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m1d-45 · 4 months ago

Text

look, don't touch

summary: a minor mishap in the lab leads to a chain of.. interesting events with the second harbinger

word count: 4.8k

-> warnings: reader is badly burned + mentioned blood + somewhat graphic description of injury, dottore + his reputation, you think you're going to die at one point (not serious, in passing, you don't)

-> gn reader (you/yours) and non-canonical segments

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 >

you weren’t an earnest follower in celestia by any means, but if they could get you out of this then you would happily spend the rest of your life devoted to being a pastor.

mostly because that’s the only way you’d live to see the light of day again, but that was besides the point.

on a good day, working for any harbinger came with a lot of challenges, but you had ended up with the most ruthless and least rational. every time you walked into the doctor’s lab, there was a healthy amount of fear that it would be your last. at least one fight was going on at any given point, trying to read their horrendous handwriting gave you a headache, the constant mood swings and volatile behavior just the tip of the iceberg. on top of that, you also had to deal with being dragged into every idea and whim they had; your technical job title was merely ‘assistant,’ but that was far too narrow a band to cover everything you did that wasn’t in the fine print.

like this. standing with your hands shoved deep into the chest of a skywatcher ruin drake, fumbling for a casing supposedly “just a little further,” if beta’s continued pressuring was anything to go by. he was standing somewhere behind you, theta on the other side of the drake trying to figure out how to pry off the thick bolts sticking out of its spine. theta you could understand. he was mostly machine himself, so it made sense he’d be the one to pull apart the touchier components, but beta? beta, fussing with the wings of the drake, doing a whole lot of nothing while you shoved your very human and non-replaceable arms into a tangled mess of gears and wiring. you’d already gotten burned once, a thick droplet of oil falling onto your wrist from above that theta apologized profusely for, and you weren’t eager to do so again.

sure, if your arms did get ripped from their sockets you’re fairly certain you’d receive prosthetics in return, but that didn’t excuse anything. just because they were capable of amazing feats of science didn’t mean you wanted to be another test subject.

“you can do it,” beta ‘encouraged,’ leaning on your shoulder and not at all making it more difficult to strain for the part he wanted. “you saw the plans.”

of course you did, you were the one that had insisted he look them over again before ripping into the machine. behind the chest plate, behind the core, straight to the back was a wide bundle of wires. in the very center was a segmented strip of chained together casings shaped vaguely like dumbbells, supposedly easy enough to pull out. what was inside? who knew. probably beta. you’d found the wiring just fine—not just fine, you’d scraped yourself along far too many gears and raw edges to be entirely intact—but there was nothing inside it. you picked out the thinner wires one by one, and while you’d succeeded in finding the structure they were supposed to be in, it was empty. yanking it up had rewarded you with a bruise on your forearm and nothing in the slot below it, so you fed it back down and prepared to pull.

“please behave yourself, beta.” theta’s voice comes from higher than it was last time, a loud bang from above you reverberating through the entire machine. you try not to think about it.

“i’m supervising-”

“i’m supposed to be supervising,” you interrupt, gripping two bars of the structure and preparing yourself. “i don’t get paid enough for this.”

you breathe, your grip tightens, and you pull with everything you have. above you, something pops, and the frame in your hands is suddenly very slack. you don’t even have a chance to feel for the capsules before something hot and burning poured on your arms, a thick oil that clung to your skin and refused to leave. beta moved quicker than you could think, grabbing your sides and practically carrying you away from the machine. the sludge was forming a wide pool on the floor now, a dark lumpy black that stretched all the way up to your elbows and made you painfully aware of that fact. beta had grabbed a roll of mechanic’s towels and roughly wiped off the excess, the drag of the napkin on raw skin making you hiss. it left a reddish residue behind, though the sight of your hands quickly blurred with tears.

“theta, we’re leaving.” beta puts one hand between your shoulders and quickly pushes you out of the project room, a sliding door opening into the upper lab. you blink out your tears as best you can, mostly relying on beta to guide you past the maze of tables and machinery. this section of the lab didn’t have a medbay since the segments allowed up here never needed one, so it meant you had to walk all the way down to the lower lab for first aid. how fun. you weren’t keen on letting this stuff stay on you for any longer than it had to, but since when was any dottore known for his safety measures?

even in your limited vision, you see more heads turn toward you than usual as the door hisses open. beta don’t stop to pay them any attention, walking you straight through to the door marked with a red cross, hand tightening in your shirt when you stumble on the slight step.

“careful,” he says, like you’d ever be in this situation of your own accord.

the faucet hisses and so do you, gritting your teeth at the pressure on your hands. you blink rapidly, struggling to find the soap before he puts it right in front of you, pressing down the top and letting it fall into your hands. your skin is bubbled and angry, shaking hands and blurred vision making it impossible to figure out where anything was. instead of doing anything remotely helpful, beta just stands at your side like the world’s worst lightpost, providing no insight and only unnerving you further with his presence. the only indication he’s not lost in some manic daydream is occasional mumbling, though that may actually be evidence the more you think about it. you’re not sure how much time passes, just running water over your skin to stave off the pain. eventually, he sighs, “fine, i’ll go,” a nonsensical statement you almost don’t notice wasn’t meant for you before he speaks a little louder.

“i need to go, but i’ll get kappa for you.”

like he wasn’t already there to see you walk in. “sure.”

he lingers, then leaves. you continue washing cold water over your skin to keep the burning at bay, knowing full well its a superficial solution. best case, you’re burned severely and are either fired for incompetence or made to work through it. worst case, whatever chemical that was made its way into your bloodstream through one of the many scrapes you got and you were about to drop dead from a heart attack any moment now. neither option was rather thrilling.

your palm can’t take much more of the water pressure, but the thought of trying to twist the valve off is equally unappealing. pain, or slightly adjacent pain: a typical day in dottore’s lab. you never thought you’d be on the receiving end.

the door doesn’t creak as it’s pushed open, but the sound of boots on the floor gives it away. who you can only assume is kappa turns off the water, blotting up the excess on your arms with a soft towel that still felt too harsh.

“i know, i know…”

you watch through blurred vision—was that the cause of your headache, or was it the stress?—as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small tin. he moves delicately, barely a whisper across your skin as he spreads the salve over your arms. soft gel pads his fingers, a cushion of translucent silicone over everything sharp edge or hard plate. you could barely pick out the seams between the layers of his hand, each of them slipping and melding together in one fluid movement. the salve leaves a cool numbness wherever it touches, your pain swiftly becoming a faint memory. you’re somewhat surprised by how quickly it works, though you probably shouldn’t be. if they could figure out delusions, they could figure out an effective topical pain reliever. he gently twists your arm just enough to see if he’s missed anywhere, not pulling any of the irritated skin. once satisfied, he makes quick work of wrapping it, white bandage spiraling up your arm faster than you can blink. he tapes it shut just below your elbow, and the process begins anew.

there’s not much else to do but watch him work. your tears are finally starting to recede enough that you can see clearer, gauging the damage on your arms. it’s… well, terrible, if you’re being frank, skin peeling and blood smearing into the pale beige salve. you're definitely going to blister, and there’s no way you’ll be able to so much as pick up a pen in this condition. hopefully prime accounts for that when he decides your next shifts, though anything you do is realistically going to hurt. you’re pretty useless like this, even as a proper supervisor you couldn’t exactly take notes. you don’t have an ancient supercomputer in your brain like kappa or theta, and even the most basic of tasks involved your hands. no matter how good kappa’s medicine, there’s no way you’ll be in well enough shape by tomorrow.

“you’re worried,” kappa says, neither a question or a statement. an explanation, maybe, but to who?

“pardon?”

he ‘looks’ up (you’re fairly certain he only does that for your benefit) though his hands don’t pause, the red diamond on his face plate pulsing faintly. like his hands, the seam between black metal and bluish silicone is so small it might as well not be there. the silence stretches for longer than you know what to do with, long enough that he finishes with your arm, wiping off his hands on the towel from before. “your shirt has holes in it,” he says like it explains anything, ‘looking’ back down to wrap your hand. you’re able to watch this time, the roll weaving around your fingers and hand before being quickly spun along your arm, perfectly taut. he cuts it with his nail and tape dispenses out of his thumb to seal the end. he lingers there for a moment, thumb pressed on your inner elbow, before finally backing away. “you should change. there’s a closet behind you that should contain a spare shirt if you’d like."

you look down, noticing that he’s right. some of the goop splashed onto your shirt, leaving a smattering of holes. the skin beneath was fine, thankfully, but he was right. definitely not lab-safe, though not many of the actual substances you worked with were safe either. you were surely under-qualified to be handling khaenri’ahn machinery.

that’s beside the point. you turn around, finding the cabinet he’s talking about easily. shirts, pants, even a spare set of shoes. they seem to be mostly for the younger segments, but you pick out a shirt your size easily enough. you check behind you, seeing kappa turned away politely, and carefully pull off your shirt. you put it aside, silently thanking whoever decided to leave the shirts unbuttoned in the cabinet. probably kappa. it’s softer than you expect it to be, smooth blue that you’d almost mistake for some sort of fine silk if you didn’t know how resilient it was. every one of the segments wore them, fire, acids, and even beta’s occasional scalpel all deflected as if they were never there. it probably would have survived the corrosive from earlier, really, which makes you a bit bitter. the buttons close easily even with your limited dexterity, leaving neither bumps nor gaps down the front because prime was too good to be caught with a straight shot to his heart. if he was worse at his job it might be easier to be upset, but you couldn’t feel anything but begrudging respect about the man that hid a tie in the cuff to keep the sleeves secure around your elbow.

not for the first time, you wish you were given your own designated set. that would mean acknowledging you as more than an assistant, though, and prime seemed to be allergic to calling you even that. it was always either your name or ‘help’ with such a specific lilt that you couldn’t even describe it, something unique to whatever thoughts bounced between the precious few marbles still left in his head.

you liked to think you were more than just a standard helper. if nothing else, then the fact that you’d been working with him for as long as you had with your sanity intact had to mean something. according to rumors of payroll records from the ninth’s workers, the longest a previous assistant had lasted was barely a week over six months, and you had survived in this lab for more than a few years without getting fired, killed, or worse.

that could always end today, though. ruin drakes were endemic to sumeru and had to be carried across half of teyvat to make it to prime’s door, let alone the time spent finding and disabling them. failing a simple task on the first day was likely a perfectly fine reason to have your head on a pike. never mind that it wasn’t your fault, that it wasn’t your idea, or that you were grossly underqualified to supervise disassembly of khaenri’ahn machinery in the first place. since when was any segment known for his rational thinking and level-headed nature? fun joke.

you pick up your discarded shirt and thumb one of the many holes with a sigh. the edges were coarse and likely would only worsen in the wash, so there goes your uniform. the least of your worries, really.

“prime wants to talk to you,” kappa starts, drawing your attention towards him. his hands are folded neatly in front of him, mechanical voice slow and almost hesitant. you never knew a segment to be unsure of himself before, though you suppose prime is as good a reason as any. “but i can tell him you need rest. i understand today has been stressful for you.”

that was one way to put it. putting off talking with prime and going back to your quarters to avoid the problem for twelve hours sounded ideal, but you weren’t a fool. if prime was asking you to see him immediately after the incident, he had something to say, and denying a harbinger was a surefire route to whatever afterlife awaited you.

“thank you, but i’ll go see him now.”

his shoulders visibly fell, but he nodded. you dropped your shirt in the trash can as you followed him out, again ignoring the various other segments scattered throughout the lab. none stopped whatever they were doing, but you could feel their eyes on you, see their blue hair twist in your periphery. they’ve probably seen injuries far worse, and yours were already covered up… it was probably kappa, really. he rarely left phi’s side for any longer than he had to.

kappa input his access code without looking. or, you could only assume he wasn’t looking; even though his head was turned toward you, it didn’t mean anything. which was worse, that he could act without looking like he was, or that he acted like he needed to look?

his finger hesitates over the enter key. “you’re nervous,” he says again, this time actually feeling like it was directed at you. you never asked about before and probably never will. “he doesn’t seem upset at you.”

you bite your tongue to keep from being mean. you know he means the best—he was literally coded to be an empathetic caretaker—but prime wasn’t known for broadcasting his heart on his bloodstained sleeves. he could seem anything he wanted and it never had to reflect what he was actually feeling.

“thanks,” you reply instead, and he nods, the door sliding upward with a hiss.

the upper lab is empty. all the equipment is still there, of course, glassware and sealed jars littering the countertops, but all of the chairs are pushed in and vacant. nobody besides you walks along the tile, and the hallways beyond this section are empty too. stretches of white floor and steel doors your only company, the fluorescent lights buzzing above you.

it’s unnerving. have you written a will yet?

you turn to the right, towards prime’s office. it looks like all the rest, with a clear plastic bin hanging next to it and a keypad below that. you knock with your entire fist, two bangs that are a little too loud on your end but likely barely audible on his. his doorway is a foot thick, a well-defined border between the harsh lighting of the hall and his deceptively welcoming office.

whoever the fatui hired as interior designer deserved a raise. a nearly black wood bookshelf covers the entire left wall, volumes packed together with remarkable efficiency. on the right, a large map takes up most of the space, notes and string marking plans you don’t try to read. shelves of files and pinned up diagrams surround it in equally dense displays. the floor is a well-buffed dark wood that clicks under his heels as he rounds his desk, silent. the pristine white papers spread across his desk are the brightest thing in the room, interrupted only by the backs of the two chairs in front of his desk. he doesn’t pull one out, nor tell you to sit, only approaching you quietly. you can’t remember the last time someone dressed business casual was intimidating, but there’s a first time for everything. his gloves are a thick mystery fabric that barely a suggest a touch on your arm, blue palms carefully following the bumps and valleys of the bandage. you raise it, letting him inspect kappa’s work wordlessly. he doesn’t comment on the shake to your hand you’re certain he can feel, and in fact doesn’t give much of any indication at all. his face is unreadable behind the mask, a detail you’ve yet to determine as a good thing or not.

“theta analyzed the substance that fell on you.” his voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard before, like he’s uncertain about breaking the silence. he doesn’t let go of your hand. “it was mostly oil, yes, but it also included a mixture of slime condensate and some sort of elemental anchor. his working theory is that when the core collapsed, the slime mixture first spilled into the oil line, then that burst. the anchor dissolved into the oil, releasing its energy, and the slime helped it stick.”

dottore has a reputation well known across the entirety of teyvat and beyond. he was irrational, heretical, setting up seemingly nonsensical lines of dominoes that led up to a crushing wave of death. he did not care, he did not feel, he held no mercy. his office was more mystifying than the abyss, and a non-zero amount of his subjects had chosen the latter rather than stay. within the fatui, within his very lab, this fog did not lift. even theta and his khaenri’ahn brain couldn’t reliably track the thoughts behind prime’s actions. that thought at least made you feel a little better, because there was no way in a thousand years that you could ever rationalize prime explaining himself to you.

“you have experienced, in essence, a severe chemical burn.” finally, he lets go, stepping back and turning away to dig through the files on his desk, the rustling sounding too loud after he spoke so.. did you dare say softly? your skin prickles where he touched and you don’t know what to feel.

he comes back with an inch-thick stack of stapled papers and a pen, holding out both. you don’t dare flip up the blank cover page yet. “you will stay with kappa and phi until you are better, and follow whatever treatment plan he prescribes. you will fill one of these out three times a day: at morning, at noon, and at night. am i understood?”

paperwork? was that all? a lot of it, certainly—was there even enough time in the day to complete three of these stacks?—but far less than you were hoping for, let alone expecting. regardless, you nod, “when would you like me to start disassembling the ruin drake?”

the silence stretches. you can feel his eyes on you and you’re certain the weight isn’t phantom, even despite the mask. you run over your words again, searching for fault and finding none. you’d hoped by presuming you’d be working again you might save some of his anger, but did he not want you to? was that something he expected you to know already? did he not want the drake disassembled at all? the delicate wiring was certainly ruined by the waterfall of whatever anchor he said fell on you, and even if theta had somehow managed to salvage it there was no way it could be up to par.

“what?”

ever a man of few words. his fangs catch the light and you regret talking more with every second that goes by. “i assume you can no longer run any of your tests on it, so-”

“when did i mention the drake?” he shakes his head and crosses his arms with a surprisingly neutral sigh. “i give you explicit instructions to stay with kappa, yet barely a moment later you’re talking like you’re going to do something else. here i thought you showed promise…”

his words hold no bite. his arms, though crossed, are not taut with anger. you liked to think you’d gotten pretty good at being able to read the various segments’ moods, but that meant you’d either severely miscalculated or prime was teasing you, and you couldn’t decide which was worse.

you were lost, and the silence was continuing for uncomfortably long. “i’ll.. go see him right away, then?”

you can’t keep your voice from tilting into a question, having wandered neck-deep into unfamiliar territory, but he blessedly doesn’t comment on it. he waves you away with a stiff nod and you half-bow before turning around, not stopping until you’re safely down the hall and in the main lab with two doors between you. you leaning against the cool wall and stare at the packet in your hands. paperwork in exchange for an indefinite time off proper work sounded more than uncharacteristic to you, especially when a prized machine was damaged in the process. you turn over the pen kept beneath your thumb, seeing the ink inside slosh around within the glass chamber. it was one of his pens, not the standard practically indestructible ones kept around the labs. maybe that was why you were thrown off, he just really lost it this time. was this the calm before the storm?

you don’t stick around to find out.

the upper lab is still empty, an eerie feeling following you as you walk past the lines of tables and equipment. all of the actual chemicals are put away, which is a little reassuring, but it’s still wrong. even if the others are out, at least theta is normally sat at his desk. you walk a little quicker.

kappa is obviously awaiting your arrival, only idly watching phi mesh together gears on the floor—isn’t that a safety hazard for someone so young?—and perking up the moment you walk in. he waves you over to him, sitting on a large couch in phi’s play area. you cross the striped tape and enter the protected space, feeling only slightly like a criminal seeking sanctuary. kappa is sitting with feet propped a small coffee table in front of him, one you set down papers and pen on before joining him.

he notices the different pen. you can tell by the way his glance turns into a stare, ‘eye’ locked onto it with a slightly brighter glow. he sits dead still, transfixed… then his chest rises in another faux breath, his attention shifting to you instead. “see? not too bad.”

“i have to complete three of those a day.”

his head tilts, smile growing. “i’m glad to see he’s finally acting in accordance in his thoughts.”

before you can even begin to dissect whatever that meant, phi calls his attention from the floor. kappa’s eye flashes as he takes his feet from the table, standing.

“forgive me, i have to go. why don’t you get started on your paperwork?”

there it is. you almost forgot he was an identical copy of the guy who made you dig through a ruin machine because ‘it’ll be good work experience.’

you settle the stack of paper on your lap, uncapping the pen and flipping away the cover page to reveal the dense form beneath. your name, easy enough, then the date below that. next was the… approximate time of injury? why had he given you an incident report? he probably slipped it in on top of the other stuff for filing purposes, though you don’t know why when he would have gotten all of that information from theta. maybe he wanted to see if you’d lie? you may have willingly signed up to work under him, but you weren’t so stupid as to lie to a harbinger.

you described what you saw as best you could while not having any sort of medical training beyond ‘blood should stay inside the body,’ then treatment from kappa. your hand was already beginning to ache a bit from having to hold the pen, but it was tolerable enough when the page was finished in less than a minute. you let it relax a bit as you flipped the page, skimming the questions. your name, of course, then the date…

you flip the first page back to double-check what you already knew. they were the same. did he think you’d run out of space? it couldn’t be a fluke, surely—was one for kappa? questions fill your head, ones you ultimately decide to shake away. whatever the case, you didn’t need to touch this page, so you moved onto the next.

the next was the same. so was the next. you used your thumb to flip through the entire stack rapidly, confirming that yes, the entire packet are one-page incident reports, what’s going on? prime’s not careless enough to make a mistake like this. maybe beta, trying to one-up his past brilliant idea by sabotaging your work, or perhaps the goop had sprayed up to theta and fried his circuits.

“uh, kappa…”

he looks up from the elaborate string of gears phi has set up, smiling. “are you done? if you are, you should come over here and see what phi’s made.”

the younger boy visibly perks up, red eyes shining. his hands tap against the floor eagerly, “would you? please?”

you pointedly look at the stack, peeling up half of it so kappa can see your dilemma, but he only laughs in response. “come, dear. let’s leave that for later.”

you hesitate, unsure. there’s no reason kappa would have to lie to you. he has a direct line to prime in his head and was probably told to make sure you stayed on task, so… if he doesn’t see a problem with it, then that must mean this is how it’s meant to be, right? carefully, you set down the stack on the coffee table, capping prime’s pen and leaving it on top. prime had, for whatever reason, given you an unexpected out.

so you take it.

#context beta is webtorre kappa is a see-through video game controller theta is fully robotic and phi is like 7 or something #genshin #genshin impact #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore segments #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #where's cig anon. they were right its been like 6 months or whatever and ive had my arc #do i like him as a person? fuck no. have i spent an embarrassing amount of time fleshing out headcanons for him? yeah.

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vonne-inc · 1 year ago

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product: yandere boss - stolen shirt.

gender neutral reader. masturbation with clothing. typical pervert stuff. (a little bit of) yandere behavior.

the day was quiet— the only sound was the clock ticking on the wall. tick, tick, tick, tick. a small reminder, one all too evident, that you weren't around. not now, at least.

even if your absence was temporary, he couldn't stand it. the growing need to see you was growing, and it was becoming unbearable. the only thing that kept him under control was knowing when you'd be back.

his body grew tense, looking at the ticking clock. five hours, nine minutes, and fifty-three seconds. it was still too long... still too much.

"sir?" his eyes snapped to the voice, his dilated pupils contracting. heels clicked against the floor, and soon, a plastic bag was set on his desk, "your lunch." staring at the bag, a familiar logo stamped on it, he quietly hummed.

as quickly as the substitute assistant came, she left. he paid no mind, focusing on the food. pulling the take-out container, his fingers skillfully opened it as he wafted in the smell. it was nothing expensive, rather cheap from a nearby restaurant. although it was special; a dish you commonly ordered.

ah, right. you.

his eyes flickered back to the clock. five hours, three minutes, and thirty-one seconds. only six minutes passed, "fuck..." he mumbled, the itching feeling growing again. his skin tingled, brows narrowed, and shoulders tensed.

pushing aside his lunch, letting it touch the end of his desk. he pulled his desk drawer out; a black, clean chest is shown into view. with a diligent motion, he grabs the key from his pocket and opens it with eager hands.

a sigh leaves his lips, pupils dilating once more as he spots the items inside. clothing, candid photos, perfumes, etcetera. all of it being yours. things to keep him managing whenever you're not around.

picking up one of the shirts he'd collected, unzipping it from its ziploc bag, he carefully takes the cloth and inhales your smell. it smelt just like you; your natural musk mixed with perfume.

the more he breathed in, his pants tightened as it showed his evident arousal. his legs spread wider, cock twitching, as his mind began to wander.

what would you do if you found him like this? force him to his knees and degrade him as he shows you how sorry he is? worshipping your sex with his mouth as he pleas for forgiveness.

would you let him bend you over his desk, fucking you with primal need? him whispering each perverted fantasy he's had of you; his assistant. praising you as he rips an orgasm from you repeatedly.

without thinking about it, his hands drag down his buttons shirt and toward his black pants. working at his belt, it falls loose as he slides his pants down— enough to free his cock.

the tip red, leaking with precum already, he begins to trace the veins of his length. his head throws back, eyes snapping shut as he continues. the stolen shirt had fallen from his grasp and hung on his lap, the smell still reaching his senses.

he reaches for it again, grasping it in his hand, while bucking his hip into the fabric. the loud groan resounded throughout his office. the act of your clothing being wrapped around his cock was enough to get him a needy mess.

his hand begins to stroke the cloth along his shaft, meeting the tip as it soaked in the precum forming. hips bucking up, digits balling into a fist around himself, he couldn't resist fucking into the shirt.

all he could imagine was what you'd look like with his cock thrusting inside of you. the way your face would contort, how your moans and gasps would sound, how stunning you would look riding him with his cum soaking your stomach and chest.

at that thought, he could feel the coil tightening. his grunts grew louder, eyes rolling into his skull. his thrusts became more erratic whilst his office chair squeaked underneath him.

ropes of white shot from his slit, soaking into the shirt and coating the end of his desk. cum hit his clothes, and he choked back a sob at the relief.

once he calmed down, he stared at the shirt in his grip that was still wrapped around his cock. before he thought about another perverted fantasy and become hard, he grabbed the ziploc and secured it back into the chest as he closed the drawer.

and while those hours without you were still unbearable, all that surrounded his thoughts was how much he couldn't wait to leave his newfound gift at your doorstep. he just knows that you'll be surprised to see your favorite shirt covered in his cum.

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l3viat8an · 1 year ago

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Another dumb headcanon XD

Solomon would get all fake offended if you called him your househusband, shaking his head and huffing out, “No, no! I am your house-wife. Get it right, MC.”

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yurislotusgarden · 1 year ago

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Wearing their Clothes, Part 2

ʚїɞ Separately! Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Part 1 for those who want to read it <3

ʚїɞ word count: 1164 (Fyodor - 329, Nikolai - 368, Sigma - 461)

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, pet names used, reader's gender is not specified in any way, probably ooc but I live for soft characters

Fyodor Dostoevsky

No matter what, you getting his ushanka won't be an accident or a surprise for this Man. He probably knew for quite a long that you wanted to try it on.

Probably would make sure that you won't get it for Some time just to tease you and see your reactions to failing.

Once he decided he had enough torturing teasing you, he would leave the ushanka on a chair or the bed, in a way that it looks like he for once, doesn't have it in the bathroom with him (Yes the rat showers even if forced) and just left it there.

So, you obviously had to take your chance and try it on.

////////////////////

"Myshka, what are you doing?"

He definitely came out faster than you anticipated. You spun around, looking like a deer caught in headlights. To say that you took off the ushanka at the speed of light would be an understatement.

"Ehm... Nothing?" A raised eyebrow.

"Nothing you say."

"Yup! Absolutely nothing! Was just looking if my eyebrows are equal!" A dumb response? Very much. Did you care? Not in the slightest, not right now.

"So my ushanka in your hand doesn't exist?" Fyodor started to walk up to you as he said that.

You threw the ushanka onto the bed in a hurry. "I don't know what are you talking about Fedya"

"Sure you don't"

Fyodor picked up the ushanka from where it lies and put it gently onto your head, fixing the few strands of hair that fell on your face. Are you hallucinating or do you see a small smile on his face?

"You look nice in it, Myshka"

“Really?”

“Of course, I wouldn't lie to you after all.”

You looked better in the ushanka than the dark-haired Man first thought, to say the least. And if he told you that you can wear it whenever you want, then no one needs to know, yeah?

Nikolai Gogol

The little shit /affectionate I swear

He probably knows you wanna steal either his hat or his cape, but wouldn't give you an opportunity to steal it just to see your reactions. It's amusing and he wants to see your emotions what can I say?

I feel like the first time wouldn't be an accident but planned by him. Casually kidnapping taking you out in winter or just a colder day without letting you get warm clothes first, resulting in shivering and being cold soon enough.

"Cold?" Came with a teasing smile from the clown. He knew what he was doing and had the audacity to tease. You swear you will hit him with something once you're back home.

"Shut up, Kolya. Why did you even bring me out here so suddenly?" Your confusion was as clear as a clean glass.

"Why, to have Some fun! Time for a quiz, dove!"

"Oh no"

You swear Nikolai loves giving you quizzes that no one but the rat Fyodor could get or guess. You could bet with the dark-haired Man in question and win the bet.

////////////////////

"And you lost once again!"

"I did" You chuckled. As much as you lose, they certainly never feel like ones. "So what happens now that I lost?" A good question as every time you lose, Nikolai manages to make the 'punishment' -his Words not yours- a different one.

"This!"

And before you realized it, you felt something heavy on your shoulders, but it also was warm. Looking at yourself, you see that Nikolai put his cloak over you, and fucking hell if you could you would just curl up in a ball and sleep, or even hibernate in this shit. The material inside is softer and warmer than you thought, no wonder he doesn't get cold.

"Your cloak?"

"Didn't you want to try it on, dove?"

"Is that why you brought me out in this weather in my pajamas?"

"Of course! How else could've I given you the honor of wearing my cloak?"

"..."

"Dove?"

"...Listen here you little shit-"

////////////////////

Next week he whined all around, whether at home or at work, all because of you not cooking his favorite cookies that you do every week.

Sigma

I had to think about what would you even steal from this Man but then I remembered this guy wears heels.

You probably wouldn't need to think of it that much, it would probably be a random idea you got when noticing that he left them somewhere. I feel like he Has a big ass room in the Sky casino, an apartment more like, so getting the heels that would be left by the door wouldn't be hard at all.

////////////////////

You have to say, that even tho the heels don't fit perfectly on your feet, you are absolutely slaying the look.

"I have to steal them more often goddamn" You mutter to yourself, looking in the mirror.

You continued to walk around a little, just for fun, the heels were more comfortable than you thought, and now your confusion about how does Sigma wears these every day and doesn't complain about feet hurting has been cleared up.

"Name? Have you seen my heels?" Fuck.

"No? Why?" From what you know he doesn't wear them after 10 pm (22), since people tend to not come to his office much after if anyone even does, so why is he searching for them at 11:30 pm (23:30)? It's almost midnight for fucks sake.

"They need me down in the Main room, but I can't find them."

"Maybe you left them somewhere else and don't remember?"

"Maybe"

You thought you were safe when you heard him walking away… until you heard him walking directly to the bedroom where you were a few minutes later.

'Shit-' You thought as you realized that and took if the heels, lightly throwing them under the bed so it looks like they were left there after being taken off by Sigma and kicked under by accident.

You went back to standing in front of the mirror just as the Man Opened the door.

"You sure you didn't see them?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"The heels are under the bed" Came the soft reply from Sigma, together with a finger pointed at the pair of shoes.

You leaned down, making it look like you didn't know.

"Oh, sorry love" To your pleasure a barely noticeable blush appeared on his cheeks due to the pet name.

"Don't worry about it" A quiet response this time. Sigma Walked over to get the heels before putting them on.

He stopped at the door before he walked out of the room and turned back to you. "I know you tried them on [name], just so you know." And casually Walked out.

You want to jump from the window. Fuck.

////////////////////

Sigma didn't mind, not at all. In fact, he bought you a matching pair of heels. It’s needless to say that this pair is one of your favorite shoes.

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated <3

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shiveringgroovy · 1 month ago

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for those drabble requests. can gender neutral reader cuddle up in fyodors ribcage all comfy like.

bonus points if it’s written in a sweet/fluffy tone despite the viscera the request implies but go crazy go stupid

Crawling into Fyodor's Ribcage!

Contents: Crawling into Fyodor's ribcage. As one does. Pairing: Fyodor/GN!reader, no y/n or physical descriptions used Warnings: Gore, body horror, unrealistic/fantasy situation, breaking bones, it's all consensual though don't even worry Notes: Anon, this has got to be the best first request ever. I love to torture my homunculi and get all up in their organs. [Coughs, the Fyovan fic]

You originally introduced the idea of "crawling into his skin" as an off-hand joke. Fyodor was experienced in the medical field, having performed fringe surgeries and operations on many people he came in contact with, perhaps even you. You could never be too sure with him, he could've very easily had you microchipped. You weren't exactly sure what he'd say to your request, but he responded by wordlessly handing you a scalpel. Shocked, you sat dumbfounded. "Are you serious?" You stammered, holding the scalpel with shaking hands. Not out of fear, no. Excitement. He nodded. "Go ahead," getting up to lay on the floor, smiling up at you. His black hair framed his face like a halo as he began unbuttoning his shirt. You knelt at his side and felt the protruding ribs under your fingertips, the rise and fall of his chest, and the beat of his heart. You wanted to be closer to that beat, those soft insides that invite you just beneath the dermis. He held your hand and guided the scalpel just above the sternum and led it down to the pelvic region, dodging the navel. The cut was sloppy due to your shaking hands and his limited vision due to positioning, but it worked. You gingerly slid your index finger past the cut, warm blood gushing from the wound like a lazy stream pooling on his abdomen. Fyodor hummed, signalling you to keep going. "It doesn't hurt, love. You don't have to be so gentle with me." He assured you with a hand on your shoulder. You felt your face burn up at his words and used both hands to seperate the cut, tearing more skin. The sound wasn't too pleasant, but the great reveal of his insides made your stomach turn with delight. You plunged your hand into his viscera with newfound vigor, it almost felt like being in a hot tub. You loved that sensation and your remaining hand joined the other. Fyodor gasped. You had been so preoccupied with his insides that you hadn't gotten a glimpse of his face for some time. His face was flushed pink and sweating, saliva trickling from the corners of his lips. It was pretty, you thought. "Doing okay?" You chuckled. Fyodor nodded. "Mhm... It feels nice. Different, but nice." His voice was wavering, struggling to keep composure, but he was clearly enjoying it. You noticed his ribs you so revered on the outside, now finally fully exposed. Hungrily, you hooked your fingers under the costal cartilage and pulled outwards, the sickening crack paired with Fyodor's pleased sigh filling your ears. Everything was exposed beautifully, the heart, lungs, liver, diaphragm... all for your eyes to drink in like fine wine. Then, an idea crossed your mind. A little voice telling you to crawl in there and cuddle up closer than anyone ever has. You nudge and adjust some organs out of your way, gently lowering yourself into his chest cavity. Your entire body was soaked in his blood, caking and cracking. The metallic smell overwhelmed both of you, hanging damp in the air like fog. You could taste the blood if you so much as opened your mouth to speak. Fyodor was still fairly quiet, save for a few gasps drawn from his bitten and bloodied lips. You rested your head on his throat, holding his heart in your hands and feeling it beat. "This is nice." You hummed, craning your neck to kiss his chin. "It is," Fyodor agreed. You two didn't get up for a long time.

End notes: "I'm in your walls!" Oh yeah??? I'm in your thoracic cavity feeling your heartbeat up close and personal. Loser. Also, I'm a horror writer and most of my stuff revolves around gore and body horror. I hope I did the fluffy part justice :P And if my anatomy and physiology teacher happens to see this, can I get extra credit or something 💯

#shiveringstraydogs #shiveringwrites #fyodor bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #fyodor/reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor bsd x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x gender neutral reader #fyodor fluff #or whatever the hell this is #whump

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the-whispers-of-death · 2 months ago

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Devil!König who, after taking over the throne from the previous king of Hell, needs to find a guard he can trust to protect him. And after a while of searching for one, he finds you: a scarred demon who has just retired from being in Hell's military.

You're quick on your feet, have enough strength to overpower most other demons. You have a natural instinct to protect people and you are battle-hardened, your senses attuned to your surroundings. You're perfect for him.

All he has to do is give you a lucrative offer and you'll fold, he's sure of it. He wants you, and he will have you.

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whyiseverynametakenpls · 7 months ago

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Bedtime story

---------------------------------------------------

Genre : fluff

Tw : none

Pairing : Luxiem x reader

Characters : Shu, Ike, Luca, Vox and you

Story : you want a bedtime story?

IKE EVELAND

---------------------------------------------------

- The first time you ask to listen to a bedtime story, he's kind of shocked. Not in a bad way though, just surprised.

-> "eh?" His eyes widened, head tilting to the side and his lips pursing. He would hum and look around your room before shrugging. "I suppose I can read you one?" As you heard him say those words you nodded happily. He chuckles at the way you nod. "Okay, okay"

Outside, he's calm and composed, but on the inside, he's going crazy. He's screaming "oh my god" and "is this really happening right now?" Multiple times in his head, really happy that you initiated something.

As he reads the story, Ike would start to become more calm, savoring the interested face you were making as he read it. In addition to that, he would most definitely smile, either from seeing your sleepy face or exited face.

- Ike would definitely be the type to read it out really slowly, instead of mimicking the emotions too much, he would definitely read with a really gentle and soft voice, which you will definitely fall asleep to.

- And sometimes, depending on the story, he will slowly pat you on the head as he looks at your happy face while listening to him.

-> Your eyes start to flutter as you fall asleep. Ike, who had been looking at the book for about a minute, looks up to you and smiles softly. "Good night darling" he says as he kisses your forehead, slowly closing the book and leaving the room, being as quiet as possible as to not wake you up.

LUCA KANESHIRO

---------------------------------------------------

- This guy is almost the complete opposite of Ike, instead of being confused, or even thinking, Luca simply agrees and runs out to get a book.

-> "you want me to read you a bedtime story? Sure!" And before you could say anything, he immediately ran out with great speed, leaving you in the dimly lighted room alone. "Eh?" You mumble, not sure on what he was going to do.

After a few seconds of being left alone, you suddenly hear quick steps going towards your room. You turned your head towards the door and immediately, Luca was Infront of you. "hi! I got you this book!" He giggles, excitedly flipping through the pages of the book.

- Even when you were the one asking for a story, he would seem to be the one more excited. The second he's Infront of you again, he opens the book and flips through the pages, showing you all the illustrations, even almost spoiling the ending for you.

- Luca would most definitely use different voices for each character, especially if he sees a blonde girl. He'd definitely start talking like Lucy with a little more flair.

- Luca would smile as he sees you laugh or chuckle at his different impressions. When he sees you laugh and smile, he's suddenly reminded of just how much he loves you and would randomly hug you.

-> "(Name), I love you very much" he says as his big arms wrap around you. You were a little surprised at the sudden confession, but still accepted his hug and hugged back. "I love you too darling" you respond, a hand behind Luca's head, patting his head.

When Luca sees you already asleep, he smiles and slowly gets up, not forgetting to quietly close the book. Before he goes out of the room, he would contemplates if he should kiss you goodnight or not, as it might wake you up.

"Ah, whatever!" He says as he kisses your forehead and slowly goes out of the room.

SHU YAMINO

---------------------------------------------------

- Shu would be surprised, but in a good way, you know? Like he's surprised that you would ask that, after all, you're quite the mature person.

- When he hears your request he would smile softly and pat your head, tell you to sit on the bed and wait.

- While you wait, he might give you a drink, like milk or anything of that sort to keep you busy while he searches for the book.

-> "while you wait, here's a glass of milk, we need you to sleep after all, we can't have you awake after all the story can we?" Shu says as he shows you a smile. You nod enthusiastically and smile back.

As you laid back on your bed, you can see him slowly walk away while scanning the room. His steps slowly fade as his silhouette also starts to disappear from your sight.

As you took a sip from your mug of milk, you can feel every drop of it warming you up and calming you a little. And slowly, you could hear shu's footsteps come back.

- When he starts reading, you're already tucked in bed, making you feel warm and cozy.

- Instead of being too in character or being really soft, I feel like shu would place somewhere in the middle, in a sense that he still "talks" as the character, but isn't as into it as Luca would be.

- He would definitely be very aware of your expressions, again, in a good way! He'd try to make sure that you enjoy your storytime as much as you can!

When he's done reading, he would slowly put the book down and try to get a good look at you, making sure you're asleep before tucking you in more and going out of the room slowly, not forgetting to close the lights.

VOX AKUMA

---------------------------------------------------

- If you ever ask for a bedtime story, Vox is definitely your to go guy. This man is happy af. If you compare this man to when he works, it's as if he's a completely different person.

- Vox would basically be screaming just from his face. He's so happy that he might just start jumping around like a small child.

-> "really!?" Vox squeals like a little girl, his eyes seemingly popping out of it's sockets. Realizing his actions, he stops and clears his throat.

"I'm sorry, I meant really? You'd let me read a story for you?" He tries to sound more professional, but from his face, anyone could clearly tell he was exited to tell the story to you.

- Vox is definitely a luca-type guy. He would be so into character that he'd always start acting like the character, even when it's not their lines.

- Sometimes though, he would stop when he hears you chuckle, snicker, or laugh at his words and gestures. Because as long as you're happy, he's happy.

- He's glad that you enjoy listening to him acting out characters and reading you lines.

- When you start to fall asleep and your eyelids start to droop, he would take a look at you and smile softly.

- And when you finally fall asleep, he's already beside your bed, his hands softly fixing the position of your blanket.

- But ofcourse, he wouldn't forget giving you a goodnight kiss before he goes out of your room. He goes near your head and places a small kiss on your forehead and smile.

"Goodnight dear, hope you have good dreams." He would say and slowly back out of the room.

<- MASTERLIST

-> trying to write hcs for now, not sure if it's better, if there is any feedback, I'd really appreciate it!!

-> THERES NO YELLOW FOR LUCA IM SORRY LUCUBS 😔😔

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poppurini · 1 year ago

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general lilia who's all tough on the outside, known for his aggressiveness in the battlefield but as soon as you're by his side- it's like everything his soldiers knew about him disappeared. he lets you do his eyeliner even when it's messy, he lets you put pink ribbons in his hair and uniform, and he giggles n smiles like you have the sun on your fingertips with the way you warm his skin.

in my delusional era you have me down bad for this man omg. also i needed to this out of my system ihaven't written ANYTHING in so long *sobs

“Y/n, darling, not here-”

the fearsome general of briar valley could only sigh and go along with your whims as you tugged him to sit down, a soft giggle escaping your lips—that he missed dearly—as you instructed the general of briar valley to sit still, your voice jokingly stern.

his hair, his wrist, his arm— you busied yourself with tying some bows onto the man with baby pink ribbons while humming a calm tune. your laugh, like melody to his ears, ring occasionally in the night when you hear his quiet grumble.

when he saw his subordinates staring at him in silence, he only waved a dismissive hand before deadpanning at baul who stood not so far away.

even though he wasn’t particularly fond of your actions, he couldn’t bring himself to reject you when you looked so happy. especially since he knows he would have to leave you for another week or so after tonight; this was the least he could provide for you as your lover. you’d catch him gaze at you with adoration, concealed by that stoic demeanour he had put up for himself as briar valley’s protector. you’d grow hot and shy when he tucks a strand of your hair away, murmuring why you don’t just put the bows on yourself instead as you’d look way cuter than him before giving you a teasing tap on the cheek with the back of his finger, his smugness evident through the quiet chuckle he had let out. some tough general he is.

++ irah i can’t do this anymore when i made that post i wasn’t asking for an ask that made me evaporate into thin air??? you could’ve kept this to yourself why involve me???? i don’t even know who l*lia is i got nothing to do with that man pls stop harassing me /j

#I’M LITERALLY GOING TO YELL #IN A 2AM QUIET ASIAN HOUSEHOLD #THE SLIPPERS ARE FLYING MY WAY ALREADT #take this…idk whatever i could churn out atm #ALL JOKES ASIDE ILYSM FOR SENDING ME THIS??????#I LOVE READING ANYTHING FROM YOU #proud of making u fall 4 da general 🤭#inbox.#lilia vanrouge x reader #gender neutral reader #vanrouge.

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missyblogs · 7 months ago

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It is I your resident fictional character lover here to populate the tags with more takes bc ya girlie has A Problem today I offer:

Sportacus and physical affection!

adapted from some writing I've been doing, based my reading of the character from some of season one, some info from a podcast episode, and a little projection on my part so shhhh -It has been said that he's a words guy but he adapts easily to other love languages and especially uses touch to communicate. If you celebrate a victory expect him to pick you up and twirl you -His skin is so soft. There is not a single greasy spot, not a single rough patch. Nuzzling him is like cuddling a baby. -Are you coping with a rough past? Do you have a body that tells on you for eating giant slices of cake every day? Good news! Sporty doesn't care. He will willingly touch your rolls, moles, stretch marks, and scars and handle them all with the upmost reverence because they're what make you you! He loves every bit o' you -He will tickle you with his mustache. This will sometimes be intentional -He is a big spoon, he LIVES for holding his partner like a cherished stuffie -Don't like making the first move or initiating contact? Not comfy leading in ballroom dance? Sportacus is a natural born leader himself who loves to woo his partner with his strength and confidence. He's especially fond of taking charge so once he's made sure this is what you want he is HOLDING that HAND and you are getting DIPPED -Do you need to make the first move or initiate contact? Not comfy following in ballroom dance? As a natural born leader, Sportacus also knows the importance of delegating responsibility. He is patient and easily adaptable and more than comfortable being the one dipped on the dance floor. He won't be taken aback if you give him the first smorch. He lu <3

-Speaking of, his partner being comfortable means the world to the hero. Expect him to pad you heavily with pillows if you wanna spend some time on floors and shift his own body to make sure you can breathe and that your ribs aren't popping and that the circulation to your arm isn't being cut off. No it does not matter how much you weigh, if you're most comfy using him as a pillow you will not hurt him. This is Sportacus we're talking about guys c'mon -Because that head is shielded by that infernal cap of his, his scalp is veeeery sensitive from the lack of contact. He will melt like putty when you run your hands through his hair -Sitting down is kinda boring... but not with you! Cuddling with his favorite person provides Sportacus with PLENTY of stimulation. He will never get tired of you he promise <3 -Emotional comfort is just as important! If you have intrusive thoughts about people who didn't touch you kindly, are afraid it might happen to you, or want to be eased into the world of physical contact due to sensory issues with someone you trust, he will reassure as many times as you need that you are safe and he will never be those people, offer arms/hands for chewing on, and take it as slow or as fast as you want. He loves you and not getting to touch your hair or smth isn't at all a dealbreaker

- Because he is very active his blood circulation is very good and he is usually warm to the touch, perfect for partners who need a lil extra! - Because he is very active, his own body is well padded and comfy. Those muscles were MADE for hugging baybey~

#lazytown #sportacus #fo x si #self insert #oc x canon #sportacus x reader #self shipping #SportaYou #self ship headcanons #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #missy talks #still no gender to this so apply whatever feels right to you #eat your heart out 'phobes this isn't for you #lowkey lowkey wonder if I should do these for other fos but like. some of them already have a lot of these so

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m1d-45 · 2 years ago

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Alright let me try this again.

What if Reader vented to Birb Xiao, not knowing that it was actually him?

They talk about their fears and frustrations, letting out all the words they've wanted to tell a person, but they have to settle for their pretty bird because no one will listen.

So Xiao is just sitting there, resting in the True Creator's hands, listening as he gets a glimpse of how they truly feel.

They say the milileth is like a raging stampede with their spears and swords. They say how the Qixing all seem so cold and unfeeling. They talk about how Zhongli genuinely terrifies them, because he acted so kind to others but was borderline cruel when hunting them.

They talk about Xiao, too, but they don't seem to have many complaints. They haven't seen him in a while, and the last time they crossed paths with him, he just... let them run. The adeptus had looked angry, but also a bit startled (and perhaps, a bit guilty?) at the sight of them. They even once overheard him leading milileth soldiers astray ("by mistake" says the creator, but Xiao knows the truth) by saying the creator had left a while ago, when really, they were still very nearby. While they say they are still a bit scared of him, they don't fear him as much as they fear the others.

All the while, Xiao sits, still as a stone. He takes in every word, every shaky breath and darting glance. He nuzzles into their hand, hoping to offer even the slightest bit of comfort.

He hopes that they continue to be unafraid of him in the future.

-Sibling Anon

he who is without sin

a/n: decided to make this one a full fic for no reason in particular (i don’t have an actual post shhhh)

word count: 1.1k

-> warnings: imposter sagau things, minor blood mention, spoilers for xiao lore, some spoilers for liyue (like names and titles of people/places)

-> gn!reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist > (has context for bird!xiao if you’re lost)

from the moment that xiao was saved, when his new name was bestowed upon him and he signed his contract with morax, xiao had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.

one to you, his creator.

a pledge to stand by your side, a clause written in by the god that forged his original contract, releasing him from his duties to liyue to serve the one that had granted him life. a permanent extra sweep to his duties, always on the lookout for the highest god above all.

however, he was not the first to find… ‘you.’

‘you’ had landed in sumeru, nested in the large tree surrounding the akademiya. ‘you’ had climbed down, introduced ‘yourself’ to the sages with a smile. everybody was quick to give ‘you’ the glory rightly the creator’s, ushering ‘you’ atop a throne of silver and gold, offerings laid at ‘your’ feet with all the haste of those deprived of the divine.

xiao may have hung back at the beginning, unwilling to allow his karma to infect ‘your’ other worshippers, but he still did his duty. he still kept ‘your’ path clear of enemies, and was the first to pick up his blade when word broke of your imposter.

and yet, when he laid eyes upon the one he was supposed to hate, he was the first to repent.

xiao took a shaking breath, crossing his arms around himself. “morax?”

the elder god turned, amber eyes soft. “what is it, xiao?”

xiao marched through dihua marsh, polearm gripped tightly in his hand. a large hilichurl camp had been reported, which while not an issue normally, was the third in the last four days.

irritation was openly displayed on his face, the anemo around him simmering with his anger. why did the abyss have to act up now, when they were on a hunt? surely even they, as infected and riddled with darkness as they were, worshipped a god? or was that the source of their evil?

he kept marching north, only turning his head at the sound of a soft gasp.

“how will i know when the creator arrives?”

morax smiled, not upset like xiao had anticipated. “don’t worry about such things. when the time comes-“

you stood on the path branching west, eyes wide. you looked nearly exactly like the ’you’ on the throne, the same cool eyes that called for your death now wide and staring at him in fear.

“-you will know.”

you turned on your heel, your armful of sunsettias tumbling to the floor, but… xiao did not chase you.

instead he brought a hand to chest, under his necklace. he pressed, feeling the still-regular beat of his heart.

he pressed, searching for the place where his karma used to be.

from the moment that xiao realized the truth, when his new duty was bestowed upon him, he had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.

one to you, his creator.

he flew down from the sky, landing in your outstretched hand. he chirped a greeting, body relaxing under your gentle touch.

“hello there, friend,” you cooed, sitting straighter under the tree. your tree, the one you kept coming back to, the one he always directed other adepti away from because it was for you, not them. not him.

you fed him as usual, but stayed strangely silent. no stories of the kindness mitachurls showed you, no update on how close or far the people searching for you had gotten, none of the usual things he looked forward to. you just… sat. watching him in your hand, an emotion he didn’t know the name of drawing your brows close.

maybe you just didn’t want to talk today? but if something was troubling you, he wanted you to share, to allow him some of the weight off your shoulders. then again, he was just a bird to you…

“do you know ganyu, pretty bird?”

xiao froze, thankful he was facing your palm so you couldn’t see his eyes widening.

“i thought i did.”

he looked up, carefully, daring to meet your eyes. this time, he could pin down what you were feeling: betrayal.

his finch heart burned.

your thumb pet over his wings, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. not now.

“i thought she was kind.”

she was, he knew firsthand. how she worried over the tianquan, fretted over her skills both with a bow and with a pen, how her and the yuheng kept each other afloat in the sea of endless work assigned to the jade chamber.

you smiled. it was bitter. “i guess i should have known better regarding the adepti.”

xiao’s heartbeat raced in his ears, something hot burning a hole in his chest. he was an adeptus, he wanted to say, he could be trusted.

but you didn’t know him as an adeptus. you knew him as your little songbird, your friend, the one you continued to risk your life for, even if you didn’t know it.

he chirped once, somber. he wanted to apologize, to take up his blade against his own king on your behalf, to walk up to the fraud’s throne and watch them bleed red.

but you didn’t need that. so he sat in your hand, leaning into your fingers, and let you speak.

as it turned out, today had been a busy day for you. you had wandered into the path of a millelith patrol, which had happened before, but not with keqing at the head of it. not when she had darted forward in a flash of lighting, electro arcing along her sword. not when she’d pulled out and blew a special whistle even as you ran, one that you couldn’t hear but could feel under your skin, taunting you as you tried to navigate the maze of bishui plain.

when you told him of ganyu’s frostflake arrows, he wanted to cry. when you described the anger in zhongli’s eyes, he started to weep.

you didn’t deserve this pain. you didn’t deserve having to outrun planet befall, you didn’t deserve to fear your life being stolen by those who should protect you at all costs- he should have been there. he was south, too far south to hear the whistle, but he should have been called.

he should have protected you.

under the shifting leaves of a sandbearer tree, your songbird cried. and you, none the wiser, continued to spell out the cause of his torment.

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