Genshin Men + Love Language

genshin men + love language

ft. kaeya, albedo, alhaitham

✽ kaeya believes his love language to be the short quips and flirty lines he throws at you more than anyone else. he does make it quite obvious how much he adores you, even through more than suggestive dialogue. however, you know for a fact it’s the little touches he never intends to grace you with: the hand on your shoulder when the tavern men glance at you, the fingers gently tucking your hair behind your ear, the way his head only ever finds your shoulder to rest upon. kaeya has the need to be engulfed in your presence in one way or another, especially if he’s feeling vulnerable. but of course, those moments for captain kaeya of the knights of favonius must be quite rare. surely…?

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I honestly can't get the image of soft! Cyno out of my head.

People are terrified to the bone whenever someone even so dares to utter his name but you, you sing it like a song and he's always listening, always admiring the sound of your voice. He sits in his office and stares blankly at the documents in front of him, his mind occupied by the thoughts of you - what were you doing, with who are you with? Do you miss him, why aren't you visiting him in his office? Ah, he gets so grumpy when he doesn't see you for a period of time, no matter how short it may be. He prowls the halls of the renowned Akademiya, his entire aura and being darker than the night itself, his eyes feel like daggers to whom ever dares to even take a single glance at him. The General Mahamantra is in a foul mood and Cyno thinks he's being subtle.

He has no idea that the students have legitimate escape routes prepared and other safety precautions in store for these dark times. No one wants to see Cyno on a good day, let alone a bad one. (But not you though, no, you never avoid him... You come to him willingly, like a cute little puppy, the thought alone just makes him want to smile.... He'll be more than happy to even give you some treats if it means you'll stay more.)

Cyno also has no clue that everyone managed to catch on that he is absolutely smitten. Those longing looks of his leave nothing to the imagination and despite his harsh words and tone, Cyno always perks up whenever someone says your name. (People are careful with this though. No one wants to get flayed alive by the General Mahamantra is they make the mistake of speaking ill of you... )

And even if you do something reckless, foolish, downright dangerous, Cyno still doesn't have the heart to be completely mad at you. One of his worst nightmares is seeing you all alone in the desert, lost and bloody, surrounded by the enemy, all of which want to end your life for good. To add salt to the wound, he can do nothing and ponder over the fact that he wasn't there to save you, to be there for you.

That's why he can get so irritated and impatient with you sometimes.

"Stay inside the city." he orders you, but you always just brush him off with a smile and a wave. Don't be so casual with him about this, please, he isn't joking around. His bleeding heart can only handle so much, he doesn't need this excess stress.

"If you aren't in the city, I won't be able to watch over you..." is what he wants to say but the words die out on his lips as he watches you go, his spear in hand and his chest aching with pain.

He can do nothing but watch and sulk from the shadows, sucking in the gentle smiles you so carelessly give to strangers as he sharpens his weapon, ready to end anything and anyone if they dare taint you.

cw: somno, yandere, dub-con

it’s been a long while since dainsleif has travelled with anybody for a prolonged length of time, much less somebody who he looks at and imagines what it would be like to kiss. he holds himself back, apart from you, knowing what he is and what he’s seen and thinking how you should never have to deal with the hideous fallout that is being beloved of the twilight sword (knowing him, loving him, he thinks, is a death sentence). but he cannot stop himself from imagining how silky soft your skin would be, if he were brave enough to strip off his gloves and touch you. how sweet the lingering taste of your lips against his would be, how warm and soft and solid and real you would be in his lap - and how tightly he would cling to you, like a raft in raging seas. 

there is no time that these feelings hit him so deeply as when you are asleep.

dain sleeps little nowadays; he does not really need to sleep to function, though he does take a few snatched naps when he feels safe enough to do so in order to recharge. but you - so solidly and normally human, so fragile and ordinary despite all of this - you require sleep, so he watches over you when you do. sometimes the two of you have a hastily constructed adventurer’s tent, and you have some semblance of shelter - sometimes you sleep straight on the ground with the stars and moon lighting your pretty face.

it’s then that dain’s mind starts to run wild with itself.

for you’re so wonderfully peaceful asleep - your chest rising and gently falling, your lashes resting against the curve of your cheeks, your lips slightly parted. the soft noises you make, sighing and mumbling, when you stir just a little and your brow creases. you’re so, so beautiful. dain can’t help himself.

he can’t help himself strip off a single glove - to caress your face and almost feel he could finally pass away there and then as he remembers how soft the skin of another human is. when you nuzzle into his palm, brush your lips sleepily across it in an echo of a kiss without waking up, he wonders if this is it and his torment has finally been brought to an end and this is celestia.

a touch turns to more - the brush of thumbs across lips, of his hand across your collarbone. he loses count of how many nights he has touched you so softly and so gently with one hand and wrapped his other gloved hand (the abyss touched one, the one that does not deserve to be bare against you) around his cock as he muffled whimpers and whines of your name into bitten lips. it’s enough, he tells himself, fiercely, as he comes over his hand and wishes he was spilling it inside of you. you would not want him. you do not deserve to be touched by filth like him–

but as nights drag on, and you sleep closer and closer to him, smile at him more, fall asleep with your head on his shoulder and a sleepy mumble of his name on your lips … dainsleif isn’t sure how long it will continue to be enough. 

ᵔᴗᵔ . . 𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗿 !

ᴖ.ᴖ . . fem! reader ⁝ wc. 1.2k ⁝ reblog

𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗲 [𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗿]

“if only you can talk…” you crouch on the ground to pet your cat. it watches you curiously. tilting its head, it meows back at you.

come as no surprise, you find a lone lavender melon waiting on your kitchen window sill. inspecting the fruit in hand, you note that it was a day early from growing ripe. whoever left it must’ve factored in the timeframe of when you’d stumble upon it.

it previously bewildered you to see them appear without fail considering it was situated on your moody companion’s claimed surface area. you were thoroughly impressed to see that you had yet to be faced with complaints of a cat attack. after all, it was rather protective of you and your home.

members of the village know what an enormous grump it is; even hissing at greetings or coos from kind strangers.

today ultimately marks the nth moment you received a little present from your supposed ‘admirer.’ frankly speaking, you beg to differ. why would an admirer leave fruit instead of flowers? it made no sense. you’re more likely to believe that it’s simply a good samaritan and nothing more.

you tried to actively gather information from your neighbors in the past. alas, it was all for naught. they couldn’t give you anything useful, it was too vague, stating he’s an unfamiliar face wandering the quaint village. placing the lavender melon in a water filled basin, you carefully wash it and place it in a bowl with other fruits you were waiting to ripen.

with that out of the way, you prepare for your travel to town. slipping on your boots, you sense the unwavering glower of your companion. you guess it wouldn’t hurt to bring it along with, you just window shopping for future purchases.

“fine… you can come along, little one,” you playfully sigh, as you boop its nose.

the hike was a blur. your mind fully distracted with thoughts of your alleged shy admirer—who he was, what he looks like and his personality, and why he was doing this. you were immediately pulled away from your daydream after you take one step into the market.

the environment was bustling to the brim with chatters of a newcomer. it was a big deal for a small community like your village. the tiniest change received much attention. and although you couldn’t discern their murmurs, you were able to catch at least two words.

eccentric wanderer.

the rumblings grow louder, inevitably seizing your attention and forcing you to follow where it comes from. to your utter shock, your feline companion meanders right under your nose. it was rubbing itself against the leg of a young man in peculiar clothing. despite its scuffed fabric, you can still tell it was made from the finest cotton in inazuma.

nonetheless, that isn’t what you focused on. your stare falls on the lavender melons in his arms. when your gaze met his own, he visibly shrinks at the attention. the poor thing looks frightened, hiding behind the veil draped over his head. your pet cat continues to purr for his affection, which raised a few brows—including yours.

he didn’t loosen up until you offer him a small grin and wave his way. his eyes widen in childlike wonder at you before red colors the tips of his ears and the apples of his fair cheeks. in the softest voice you’ve ever heard, he says,

“it appears fate has called for us to finally meet.”

𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶 [𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗼𝘀]

since your younger years, you’ve heard tales about guardian angels from the elders of your community. they tell you that each being in this life has one of their own watching over them. truthfully, you didn’t believe them. you thought it was a load of rubbish. if it were true, then what do they make of those who perished for mondstadt’s freedom?

be that as it may, it didn’t stop their taunts. the sisters from the cathedral coo that you must’ve been looked after by the anemo archon himself! the less loony, but loony regardless, tease the wind sprite must be fond of you. the first three incidents they list can be passed off as coincidences in your eyes.

it first took place on a super windy day. your freshly washed laundry was swept off the clothes line to only heaven knows where, just to return neatly folded on your doorstep the next morning. the second time it happens, you were helping amber and the traveler decorate the main square of the city tor the windblume festival.

you stand on a ladder, as you mull over on how to fasten the flora banner to the building’s exterior when you accidentally lose your footing. gasps echo the area, preparing for the worst when a strong gust of wind passes, cradling you for a graceful landing. amber dashes to where you lay and fusses over you for any injuries.

aether, on the other hand, stays a foot behind you two while he waits for instructions. a breathless chuckle escapes your lips when it clicks in his mind who saved you.

and last but not least, possibly the most significant one and what had you second-guessing yourself, it plays out on your way home one evening after a day of running errands. you were walking on the grassy road outside of springvale when you hear a few hilichurls come near your direction. you can’t explain what occurs next without sounding like you’ve gone mad.

a gust of wind breezes past your figure, rustling the bushes distances away. it snatches the attention of the behemoths and earns you a window to flee. it was hereafter you start noting every unusual encounter. though, it was a senseless chat over a bottle of dandelion wine, a tiny remark from the town bard about your woes changed your mind.

“from your story, i’d say the anemo archon is greatly fond of you, miss,” venti slurs, then downs his nth swig of the night. the warm lighting of the tavern displays his inebriated state, highlighting the redness of his cheeks.

you’ve heard it one too many times. you would’ve scoffed at him if you weren’t sincerely piqued by what he had to say. it had you resting your arms on the table and leaning in to get a better look of his face. “the anemo archon?”

“hm...” he lazily nods his head along. “did you not know that he is still one with the wind? besides, it’s typical of barbatos to grow attached to his people. have you not heard of the stories? however… i have yet to hear a tale similar to yours.”

venti shrugs. “maybe the almighty god is endeared by a fair maiden like yourself.”

you didn’t reply.

you swallow the remainder of your drink before bidding him goodbye. deep down, you didn’t accept his answer. it made no sense at all! why would an archon fawn over a mortal? it sounds absurd. you make haste to return home and piece it together yourself.

without your knowledge, the subject of what’s been on your mind was overseeing your journey back. venti releases a big sigh of relief once he senses you set foot in your cottage safe and sound.

breaking up, breaking down

pairing/s: albedo, childe, diluc, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao, venti, zhongli x gn!reader

summary: if there’s anything you can expect to be consistent in life, it’s that everything has an end. or — genshin men and how they are after you break up with them.

note: angsty in everyone’s part, but it got too lighthearted in childe’s bc i simply cannot take that ginger seriously (affectionate)

ALBEDO

There aren’t any notable changes to his routine. He’d still go about his day, working on his experiments and scribbling down notes, occasionally taking a break to sketch a pretty flower he saw or the wing pattern of a passing butterfly.

And then he finds himself drawing the outline of an eye, then a nose, then lips. Until he suddenly stops in the middle of drawing a strand of your hair blowing in the wind, your face frozen in a smile staring back at him through the canvas of his sketchbook.

It hits him then, the realization, the heart-wrenching clarity of what happened that leaves him sitting in his chair, staring at your face in paper and wondering where he went wrong.

He tries to distract himself by continuing his research, but his mind has a hard time focusing on what needs to be done. It’s agonizing, he doesn’t think he’s felt this way before, never even thought he’d ever feel such pain. In a way, he’s glad his master isn’t here to make a study of what emotional pain means to an artificial human like him.

He sees you two weeks after you broke up with him, laughing as you tried to haggle with a merchant for their wares, unaware of the charm you exude that draws people in like moths to a flame. But then your gaze moves, searching through the crowd—and Albedo should really leave now, avoid barging into your life because there simply isn’t a place for him there anymore—but he does none of that.

Your eyes meet. He doesn’t think he was imagining it when he saw yours dim for the briefest moment. (His heart hurts. Why are you looking at him like that?)

You make your way through the busy street to reach him. He tells himself he should leave, but for the first time in his life, he does what contradicts his logic and stays.

“You look good,” you tell him, something melancholic in the tone of your voice. Oh, if only you knew.

“You as well.” He wants to say more, wants to say how radiant you looked under the sun, the light hitting you in just the right way that has him itching to grab a pencil and immortalize the image in paper—but he holds his tongue. “I need to go.”

Your face falls. He wishes he wasn’t the cause of it. “Ah, right. You must be busy, as usual.” There isn’t a hint of bitterness to your voice, just resignation.

He leaves after bidding you goodbye, feeling the heat of your gaze at his back as he walked away.

CHILDE

He wants you and he will do everything in his power to have you back.

In the early days after you broke up, you won’t hear a word from him. Not a peep. You only hear passing news that dead monsters and hilichurl camps near the vicinity of your home have been utterly eradicated. Passing travelers claim how the areas were ‘strangely flooded’ even though it hasn’t rained in weeks.

Then come the gifts. From flowers to clothes to accessories to different delicacies that are all worth more than your entire life’s paycheck. And when that doesn’t work, Childe sets to work on his recruits.

You suddenly find yourself constantly being approached by a startling amount of Fatui recruits ranging from normal lackies to gunners to cicin mages, and even that one memorable time when a mirror maiden approached you in the middle of buying groceries and proceeded to buy everything in the store, saying all of it was for you.

The Fatui recruits had one thing in common: they all had nothing but praises to say for the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

“Master Childe defeated all the recruits in under ten seconds!” “Have you heard how Lord Harbinger killed twenty geovishaps and came out without a single scratch?” “I saw him buying that exact same shirt yesterday, it cost one million mora! He’s so rich!” “Lord Tartaglia has been so down lately. He keeps saying how much he misses his beloved.”

“Did you know? Even Lady Signora wept after she heard that you and Master Childe broke up.” That one, you’re certain never actually happened, and you made sure to tell that with an unimpressed look to the pyro agent who told you. As if Signora would ever cry, she’d probably throw a party for you for finally leaving Childe.

In the end, after cycling through so many recruits, he had no choice but to come to you directly.

…Which is how you woke up at six in the morning to the ground shaking and the sound of an eerily familiar laugh right outside your house.

You open your window to find Childe fighting a lawachurl right in front of your house, a ring of Fatuus surrounding and cheering him on. His smile brightens to an almost comical degree once he sees you and your bedhead squinting out from a window.

“You look so stunning today, beloved!” He steps back from an earth-shattering punch by the lawachurl. “I’ve brought you the biggest lawachurl I could find so I can show you how worthy I am of you!”

He then proceeds to—and you have to blink a few times to see if you’re not hallucinating—fist fight the lawachurl. And he’s actually winning. No vision, no weapon. Just his bare fists.

When the commotion wakes up your entire neighborhood, you have to go down there and yell at him to stop or take this fight somewhere that isn’t right in front of your house! He complies with a grin and a promise saying he’ll meet you later.

There’s something fond curling in your chest that you try and fail to smother. With an exasperated tone, you tell him that yes, you’ll find time in your busy schedule to meet him. He lights up like you just agreed to marry him and yells out rapid orders in Snezhnayan to his recruits.

“I’ll see you later!” He blows a kiss in your direction that you ignore. You turn away and walk back into your house, trying (and failing) to fight the growing smile on your face.

DILUC

It’s not evident to anyone who doesn’t know him well, but Diluc takes it close to heart and buries it among countless other regrets that have accumulated in his life. The turbulent feelings that threaten to overcome his mind at any hour of the day manifests itself in him becoming more withdrawn.

He’s gloomy, more brooding than usual, and the reason becomes apparent once the other patrons notice the lack of a certain person who usually sits by the bar during his shifts. Your usual laugh accompanied by teasing grins and playful swats at his long hair when you think no one is looking are nowhere to be seen.

One particularly drunk person had come up to him as he was wiping down the counters and asked why you weren’t there. Anyone who had been there to see the sight would tell you that he didn’t say anything, hadn’t been able to say anything. He just… stood there, hands frozen mid-motion and eyes drawn somewhere, lost in thought.

He slips up sometimes. Asks the maids to prepare a dinner for two only to stop in the middle of talking as he realizes what he just said. At breakfast, he pauses in the middle of reading his daily papers to turn his head to the right, a question on the tip of his tongue that dies when he sees the empty spot you usually occupied. It’s the pitying gazes that follow when he slips up that he hates the most.

He makes your favorite drink sometimes, on the days when he’s on shift and feeling particularly self-destructive. It stays hidden under the bar counter, hoping against hope that you’ll walk through the door and greet him with an upbeat ‘good evening!’ that makes his day all the more better. You never do.

It’s on a bright, sunny morning when he’s out overseeing the delivery of wine to the tavern that he sees you again. His heart soars for all but a second before it comes crashing down, because Diluc Ragnvindr does not deserve nice things.

You’re holding the hand of some nondescript man, grinning and laughing and emitting such a great sense of contentment that he can almost feel it from where he’s standing meters away from you.

You’re happy. It’s been months and he’s still wallowing in old hurts. You’re happy.

Did you ever smile like that when you were with him? He likes to think so, but the realistic, pessimistic thought is that you’re probably better off not being with him. You’re happy. Happier now than you were when you were with him.

Everything he’s ever loved has been hurt directly and indirectly by his hands. He turns away from the sight of you and pretends to be preoccupied with his task. Maybe it’s for the best that you left before it could happen.

KAZUHA

He tries not to take it to heart. He understands why you left, knows it before you even made the decision to leave. And in the aftermath, much like a leaf adrift in the wind, he roams about aimlessly, lost in thought.

Grief is not an emotion he’s unfamiliar with. As he sits by the cliffs overlooking the endless ocean, grief burrows its way to his chest like an old, unwelcome friend. He doesn’t fight it. He’s learned the hard way that fighting it is a losing battle, like picking at a scab, hoping that doing so will make it heal faster, yet only succeeding in worsening the wound.

Kazuha isn’t a stranger to loneliness, of letting the wind kiss his tears away as they dried on his cheeks. He is, however, unfamiliar with this new kind of ache in his chest. And only after much rumination does he conclude what it might be.

The loss of his family, the loss of his heritage, the loss of his friend, and now, the loss of his lover. A master of loss, he could almost call himself. His old friend would certainly find such a title amusing.

He finds himself writing letters to you, even with the knowledge that he’ll never be able to send them to you. It’s the thought that comforts him, the pretense that he still has someone to tell of his travels, someone to simply come home to, even when he knows he isn’t welcome anymore.

In his weakest moment, when he had too much to drink and too little self-restraint, he sends one of the letters to you. He’s forgotten whether it’s the one where he laments the loss of your presence, the one where he begs you to have him back, or the one where only three words are written, a small blot in the ink where a stray tear had fallen.

He waits, and waits, and waits a little more, staying for a whole month in the small village he’d addressed the letter from for the small, improbable event that you may have written back. He learns later on that the letter never made it to your hands. The ship it had been on had lost all its cargo to the sea, including his letter. When he heard the news, he hadn’t known whether to be relieved or lament on what could have been.

It isn’t unpleasant to see you again. Kazuha has had time to let go of his hurt, but still, the image of your nostalgia-inducing eyes leave in him a sense of loss he thought he had already settled. Your mirage smiles, “Kazuha.” Had he been a weaker man, he would have folded and swept you up in his arms.

Nobody asks why his eyes have a slight sheen to it after he forces himself to walk away from you. He stands atop the beach and lets the waves wash over his bare feet, closing his eyes and imagining what could have been had he let himself succumb to the desire of holding you one last time, even if you were merely a mirage from the past.

Truly, the golden apple archipelago is a place where dreams are made into reality.

SCARAMOUCHE

He tries to act above it all, feigning indifference as if the entire thing is just a mild inconvenience to him.

Oh, you’re leaving him? That’s fine, he doesn’t care. Do you know how many people would kill to share his bed? You were tolerable, a way to pass time. Don’t think you were anything special. You, a normal person? Don’t make him laugh. You were nothing more than a pet he kept because you entertained him. It’s good that you’re leaving, actually. It saves him the trouble of having to get rid of you.

He’s… not very kind about it all. Defensive and on guard, hackles raising with every word that comes out of his mouth. He hates every second of it, but he can’t stop because stopping is to admit defeat, it means having to acknowledge that you meant something to him after hundreds of years of loneliness. He let you in his carefully guarded walls, and now—now you’re leaving him? Abandoning him after he bared himself open to you?

You are just like her.

Scaramouche stops before he can say those last words. The red that had been threatening to overcome his vision slowly recedes, leaving a numbing sort of clarity that washes over him like the rising tides of Inazuma’s beaches. His mouth feels dry, throat closing up.

There are tears streaming down your face.

He wishes you’d do something. Hit him, yell at him, curse his name. Anything. Just… anything but this silence that hangs heavy in the air, cloying in it’s thickness and threatening to drown him with words that can never be taken back.

He doesn’t apologize, won’t ever apologize. He is a god, and not even you would make him say those damnable words. He sees the way your eyes dim in understanding as you realize the same thing, and that, perhaps, is why you turn your back to him and walk away.

He wishes he could say that he called out for you, that he grabbed your arm and made you stay, that he just… held you. Instead, he watches you leave him, face blank and a phantom ache resonating in his hollow chest. The silence after you leave feels like the night before his creator abandoned him.

He tells himself it’s fine, that you’ll come back. You always do. This is just one of many arguments that always get resolved after a day or so—except. Except, he doesn’t let himself think of any other possibility. You’ll come back. (You have to.)

The months following your absence is a blur, spikes of irritation mixed with hateful words and barbed insults directed towards anyone who so much as breathed the wrong way. His subordinates are half-contemplating desertion just to escape his wrath. They all wonder where you’ve gone. You’re usually the one who soothes the Balladeer when he’s in one of his moods, like the godsend that you are. Though none of them are brave enough to mention your name after what he did to the foolish recruit who asked of your whereabouts.

Years pass. You never did come back.

He still gets the occasional reports about you and your general wellbeing, still sends out his best soldiers to clear out any monsters who’ve settled near your home. You never find anyone else after him. It brings a strange sense of relief in him when his monthly reports on you end up without a hint of a new lover.

He tries to forget you, but even with a new heart and the ascendance to godhood, there is still a lingering sense of loss and past regrets.

XIAO

He lets you go without argument. He’s used to people leaving him, but this is… different.

The thought of you there, physically within reach yet unable to to cross the distance that separates you from him. It’s a different kind of agony from the ones that have afflicted him for millennia.

He sometimes finds himself standing by the balcony of Wangshu Inn, eyes roaming over the vast landscape of Dihua Marsh, looking for the slightest hint of your silhouette. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs always attracts his attention, anticipating your signature greeting and the smell of whatever mortal sustenance you’ve deigned to make for him to, as you once put it, let him experience the delicacies that this world has to offer.

You can’t call yourself ‘having lived a long life’ if you haven’t tried all the tasty food, Xiao!

…He misses you, though he will never admit it, perhaps not even to Rex Lapis himself.

His time—which once consisted of you, killing monsters, you again, roaming the lands for the remains of old gods, tasting whatever you cooked for him, and accompanying you so you can get home safely—is now comprised of nothing but endless slaughter. He tells himself it’s not a distraction, but it’s a thinly veiled excuse, weak even to his own ears. How low he has fallen to create such feeble excuses to justify the hurt that spreads from his chest to the tips of his fingers.

He used to pick up small things and trinkets in his time scouring the land for evil. A shiny pebble that reminded him of your eyes, a particularly large sweetflower that you would gape comically at once he showed you, qingxin flowers he plucked from the highest mountains just so he can see the way your face lights up in a smile. He still does all these things, only now, the objects are stored in a realm made in the likeness of your home, placing each one in a shelf or table that he thinks you would have arranged them in.

One time, he panics when he sees the flowers start to wilt, and in the heat of the moment, he placed adeptal power in them to ensure they will never die. To this day, he isn’t sure why he did so, only that he imagined at the time how upset you would be that they died in his care, even though he knows how unlikely it is that you will ever discover his hobby of collecting flowers and storing them in his realm.

Perhaps he hopes you’ll come back to him, so that when you do, he can see the way your eyes brighten up once he shows you everything he got for you while you were away.

It’s unlikely, he knows, but it’s nice to dream of it. He thinks his siblings would be proud to see him finally have a little hope for something.

VENTI

He spends the rest of the week in the tavern drinking as much as he can. For once, Diluc doesn’t try to reproach him for drinking what he can’t pay for.

He doesn’t exactly get drunk—can’t get drunk, more like. To a god like him, drinking a hundred barrels of Mondstadt’s finest wines won’t even be enough to get him tipsy. He is the god of freedom (and wine, he’d like to add), he can outdrink every single one of the archons and still have enough semblance to go to war. And yet…

You appear on the seventh day like a salvation, face contorted in worry when you see him slumped on the counter and one inch away from falling off the stool. It isn’t difficult to act the part of a drunken bard, pretending to sway on his feet and donning a fake intoxicated grin as he asked Charles for another glass.

The wind tells him of your arrival, but he ignores it just as he ignores the way his heart soars when the wind brings him the barest hint of your scent. He wishes you didn’t come here. He wishes he didn’t act so drunkenly. He wishes you were more heartless and ignored whoever must have tattled on him drinking Angel’s Share into bankruptcy.

You call his name. He pretends he’s asleep just so he doesn’t have to face his problems. Ha. How ironic. Will he wake up to Mondstadt destroyed by the remains of Khaenri’ah this time? He nearly did once.

He hears you sigh before he feels you bring his arm across your shoulders. You help him get off the stool, an arm around his waist to help keep him steady. The weight of Diluc’s disapproving gaze for deceiving you about his drunkenness is heavy, but he tells himself it’s alright. He just… wants to be selfish for once. If he has to act drunk to feel your arms around him again, he’ll suffer this humiliation as many times as he can.

“Venti,” you start as you walk him in the direction of your home. “I was worried, you know. Aether told me how much you’d been drinking since…” You trail off. He feels you shaking your head before continuing, “Just… don’t be so reckless with your health.” You laugh, mildly sardonic that’s directed more towards yourself than him. “Ah, what am I saying… you won’t even have any recollection of this tomorrow anyway.”

He wants to say something, but saying something means breaking this moment between you, it means revealing that he doesn’t actually need your help because once he starts speaking, the dam will break and everything will come spilling out. I’m sorry, I miss you, I love you.

The front door to your house opens. He’s gently placed down your couch, a blanket thrown over him as you thoughtfully take his shoes off for him. He feels you linger by his side, can practically hear the conflict in you.

He’s unprepared for the feeling of your warm breath on his skin, your lips hovering over his face before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, Venti.”

He leaves before the sun rises.

ZHONGLI

He only smiles, small and understanding with a hint of sorrow at the corner of his eyes.

He tells you he’ll respect your decision, but should you change your mind, he will always be here. You say it’s doubtful, he would’ve probably found someone else by then. Zhongli doesn’t correct you, only leans in and places his lips on the top of your head, as gentle as he’s always been with you, somehow managing to convey with a single gesture how high he holds you in regard.

And for the barest, infinitesimal moment, you half-contemplate the idea of staying. It’s a wishful thought. You end up leaving before you can change your mind.

He’s still as grounded as ever, but there’s a fragility to it, a certain brittleness that threatens to crumble from within him. He is the Lord of Geo, and yet he is so easily undone by you. The pain is temporary, he knows from past losses, but it doesn’t lessen the ache that resonates in his chest.

For the first time in his long life, he curses his golden memory that makes him incapable of forgetting, though that which he curses is also something he is grateful for. He can’t bear having to suffer losing the memories of your time together.

Your relationship is amiable, like that of old, awkward friends you had fallen out of touch with rather than that of old lovers. It’s what you wanted after all, this sense of normalcy. He has become such a vital part of your daily life that you simply couldn’t cut him off of your life entirely.

He doesn’t know which is worse; having to act as a mere friend when he wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and never let go, or to have no contact with you at all.

Morax is not one to ask for things, not one to plead his case to anyone. He was a selfish and proud god, a necessity that was shaped from him by the war. To love a mortal enough to leave his throne and fake his death would have been unthinkable. But that is why he is no longer Morax. He is Zhongli.

And Zhongli? He wants you. Desperately. Enough that he is willing to beg should you ask it of him.

His deceased enemies would laugh in mockery at what has become of the fearsome Morax. How low he has fallen—but it is a burden he is willing to bear. He will suffer as many humiliations as it takes to have you back.

The only issue is that you don’t want him anymore. But he is a man who finds gold where others would see stone. If he has to build his way up from friendship all over again, then it is a task he will do so gladly. As many times as it takes for you to want him back.

I Love You 'til The End of The Line; childe

childe x gn!reader

a/n: THIS EITHER SOUNDS INTERESTING OR REALLY STUPID BUT HEAR ME OUT 🧍‍♂️ (also Happy Birthday loml Ajax 🥳)

Angst! Hanahaki disease AU!

You've heard of it, never thought of it to be true until you, yourself were spitting out bloody flowers. But how could this happen? You're in a relationship.

part 2

word count: 3,105

warnings: throwing up, lotta hugging, emotional cheating

Loving Ajax hurt, but you don't regret it one bit.

Working for the Tsaritsa has made his schedule hectic, barely having any time for anything else. Despite his work schedule, you two made it work. The few weeks he'd be in town, you two would be glued to the hip. Almost always within each other's presence that no one could see one of you without seeing the other. You'd be at his house, playing with him and his younger siblings until they fell asleep and you could relax with Ajax, wrapped in blankets by the fireplace. Then the next few months, letters would be sent back and forth until the day you could hold Ajax in your arms again.

After making more than 4 years together, you and Ajax have gotten used to your long distance relationship. The excitement of being able to see each other again after way too long never faded, but now it felt...soft? Like when he's about to leave, you know you're gonna see him again. Goodbyes are replaced with an 'I'll see you soon' and when you finally hold each other again, he gives you that warm smile that says ‘I'm finally home.’ 

It was a gentle type of love. Sweet & Simple.

Maybe that's why it happened. It got boring.

With the limited time you have with your partner in Snezhnaya, you suggested visiting him while he's in Liyue. He, of course, was overjoyed with the suggestion and immediately started planning the trip, the places he'd take you, the time of year you should go, etc. 

Now came the time you were set to board the boat bound for Liyue's port. 

At first, you thought it was just some sea sickness when you first found yourself feeling dizzy and wanting to throw up, but the closer and closer you got to Liyue, it became clearer and clearer. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at the yellow tulip covered in blood you coughed up. Hanahaki disease? Impossible. You were loved back by the one you love the most. He even helped set up your whole stay in Liyue so you could see him. This revelation only made your trip worse as it made you question your relationship as flower after flower escaped your lips. How could your 4, almost 5, year long relationship end like this?

By the time you got to the port of Liyue, you started to feel pain in your lungs after every cough. You still couldn't believe it. The very thought of dying by this awful disease- heck, you don't even understand how you got it in the first place.

But you were about to find out really soon.

Ajax's open arms greeted you as you walked down the ramp from the boat, a small smile adorning his face. For a moment, you forgot about the pain in your chest and jogged into his arms. After brief greetings and a long-awaited kiss, Ajax grabs your bags and leads you through the city, explaining how Liyue Harbor is preparing for this year's Lantern Rite Festival.

As you walk hand-in-hand through the city, examining the different buildings and decorations set up, his eyes land on something. But before you could look at what he was looking at, he was already dragging you there. When he finally stopped, you found yourself in the presence of someone. 

Dressed in clothes you've never seen before, with blond hair and golden eyes, they stand before you. You've heard stories of the traveler mostly from Ajax, but stories about them have already been floating around Snezhnaya since the day they saved Mondstadt. Word travels fast, and with the addition of your partner's first-hand experience with them, you're quite overwhelmed to be standing there knowing what the traveler has been up against. And now, as Ajax introduces you to each other, his words fade into the background. They hold out their hand to you for a handshake and you freeze for a moment, before hesitantly shaking their hand. 

This doesn't go unnoticed by your partner, quickly putting his hands on your shoulders and giving them a light squeeze. "I've told them about you," he explained to the traveler before turning to you. "You don't have to be nervous. They're a great warrior, but once you get to know them, they're really down to earth. You'll get along just fine," he whispered.

And get along you did. They were very nice and you've come to learn how they're going around Teyvat to look for their sibling. And their swordsmanship- wow did they know how to handle a blade. 

When Ajax invited you to watch them spar, you noticed their abilities and strategies in trying to push the other into a corner. Despite being young, Ajax had the strength and power that really proved he deserved a spot among the Fatui Harbingers. On the other hand, the traveler was able to hold their own and push your partner back even without wielding a vision.

You noticed the thrill and admiration in the Harbinger's eyes as he continuously battles the traveler. But even after the fight, his eyes still display that same admiration for them. You had suspicions at first, especially since you've been coughing out flowers despite being with your partner, but now those suspicions are being confirmed.

The excited tone he uses when he talks about being in battle with them, inviting them when you and him were out, even asking them to meet his family in Snezhnaya. The more you noticed it, the worse your condition grew. Up to the point both of them have started to notice how easily you get tired and how often you clutch your chest when you feel your heart burn.

They've asked about it a few times but you always reassured them that it was nothing and quickly switched to a topic you all can discuss. To get their full attention away from your state, you always change the topic to something relating to fighting. As skillful fighters, both of them had a lot to say. Even Paimon joins in on the conversation, usually to brag about the traveler's greatest battles and make remarks here and there.

You'd try to get in on the conversation too, but compared to what the harbinger and the esteemed traveler had been up against, was there really something you can brag about? That thought had kept you from saying much until you were in your own bubble and they were starting to forget you were there.

Unfortunately, this happened often during your stay in Liyue which only confirmed your suspicions even more.

When Childe had some free time, he'd take you out on a date. But most of the time, it wouldn't just be you two together. If spotted by him, he'd invite the traveler with you. 

"Hey traveler! Paimon! Come join us!" or "Is that the traveler and Paimon over there? Why don't we invite them to go to Luhua Pool with us tomorrow?"

On the occasions that it was indeed you two alone, he somehow always found something that reminded him of them and never forgets to mention it to you. 

"When Teucer came to Liyue out of the blue, he and the traveler followed me out here while I was baptizing the batch of new recruits. You should've seen their confused faces when I started talking about toys!" and "The traveler keeps giving me these starconches for some reason. If I were to count them all, they've given me over a hundred of these shells!"

He's mentioned many times before that he and the traveler are friends, even working together if Childe had some work to do that the traveler could help with. But after everything that's happened so far, it doesn't take a scholar to figure out he's begun falling for someone else.

The final nail on the coffin was during Lantern Rite. He promised to take you out to watch the fireworks together. For a while you were sitting by the staircase, watching the crowd and trying to find Childe amongst them but he was nowhere to be found. He said he'd be there by sundown so you can explore the festivities before the firework show began, but it's been almost an hour since the sun had set and he was still nowhere to be found. Maybe this was a bad idea - coming out here while you're sick. You felt another yellow tulip rising in your throat and quickly went somewhere private to cough it out. 

Looking at the bloody flower petals, you realize it, indeed, was a mistake to go out and you should’ve stayed at the hotel instead. So you made it out of the area and started to head back to your hotel.

"There you are!" A familiar voice calls. Your body was frozen as he and the traveler came up to you. "Sorry we’re late. We’ve been investigating a domain and we got lost track of time while we were examining the place. At least we’re here now, where have you been? I thought we were meeting by the docks?" He puts his arm around your shoulder as you laughed it off and hurriedly made an excuse.

Much to your dismay, they lead you back to the docks where multiple stalls were lined up. You were just following to wherever stall they'd head to next and accept the items Childe bought for you. He would offer to buy the same things for the traveler but sometimes they'd refuse and he'd give it to you, even if he bought you one already. He calls it 'an extra'.

Nothing had really caught your attention and you continued to just follow them as they walked and talked until your eyes landed on an interesting stall. You were about to point it out to your companions, until you saw how deep in conversation they were.

They seem to be in their own little world, talking about anything and everything, while you are lagging behind and watching the whole scene play out. 

And all you could think was how happy he looked being with them. Talking with them, probably about the many, many things he and the traveler had in common.

He just looks… happy. With that sparkle in his eye and his smile that never seems to disappear tonight.

He is happy. You know it.

He was killing you, and he didn't even know it.

Finally, you stopped walking and watched until you lost sight of them. The tightening feeling in your chest made you feel worse, but right now, you couldn't care less. At this point, it wouldn't matter if you joined them or not, it all felt the same. Instead of catching up to them, you  explored the rest of the festival, making some souvenir purchases and taking photos even if all of it was useless. Once you felt the tightening of your chest worsen, you knew it was time to head back to your hotel, quickly.

On the final night of your stay in Liyue, you were packing up the final items in your bags. The thought of staying crossed your mind multiple times. Maybe it was pointless to pack up, seeing as your condition has taken a turn for the worst and you might not even get back home to Morepesok alive. At that point, breathing made your lungs hurt and your chest burn. Maybe you should stay and spend the rest of your nights with Childe, if you should even tell him while knowing what he'd do if you did. But you decided against it, because everything he'd do would be out of guilt. He'd deny that he's fallen out of love and would take care of you 24/7 trying to convince himself that he still loves you, only to fail.

You lost your train of thought when the sound of knocking reached your ears. Opening the door revealed Childe with a cheeky smile. "What are you doing here?" you asked. "Well, it's your last night and I wanna go on a lil' walk with you." He stepped aside and put his arm out, gesturing for you to walk out with him. You thought about it and hesitantly stepped out of your room, quickly locking it behind you before following Childe out to the streets of Liyue.

The night was cold and there were only a handful of people who were also out. Most of which were taking down the decorations of the Festival. For the most part, you both were just silently admiring the quiet streets, bumping knuckles while walking. You were too busy taking one last look at the buildings around you to see the slight smirk on Childe's face as he grabbed your pinky with his own before fully holding your hands as if you two were teenagers first discovering your love for each other.

You felt your heartbeat quicken and subconsciously take a deep breath when your cold hand was in his warm one.

He took you around the city one last time before stopping with you on the bridge atop feiyun slope. He looks out to the many boats docked at the port until his eyes land on a certain one. Curious, you peek at what he's staring at too and your eyes land on a large passenger ship, probably the one you would be taking the next morning.

He sighs before looking at you. "I wish you could stay a little longer." He pouts just a little bit and pulls you in a hug. "But that's okay. My assignment here is almost finished so I'll be back home with you, and Anton, Tonia, and Teucer--" He doesn't know, "--You said there was a new restaurant, right? We could go--" He doesn't know, "--Just a little bit longer and I'll be home again very soon--" He doesn't know. In fact, does he even realize his feelings for you are fading?

"I-I should head back." The sudden volume of your voice stops him from saying anything further and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your statement. You were quick to notice this and even quicker to explain. "I'm not quite done packing yet and I have a long trip tomorrow and the boat leaves early. You should head to your quarters now too. Now that I have a sense of how busy you are, you need your rest."

He was still confused, but he let you go for the night. "I'll come get you in the morning, okay?" You nodded your head and tightly wrapped your arm around him, to which he was surprised but still hugs back before you let go and head back to your room.

You couldn't sleep the whole night. Time being used up by packing, thinking about your relationship with Childe, whether you should stay and tell him, and throwing up more yellow tulips. Before you knew it, it was time to board the boat and head home.

You walked out of the hotel with your head hung low and your bags in your arms, practically dragging them because it felt heavier, until someone picks them up for you.

You both talk a bit during the journey to the port, discussing whatever topic comes up. When you get there, your names are called out by Paimon who flies up to you both with the traveler trailing behind. "We just wanted to see you before you go," Paimon said.

"Paimon just gets emotional and will get upset if you leave without saying goodbye." The traveler adds, making everyone chuckle while Paimon gets embarrassed. 

"Thank you." You gave them a soft smile, at least it calms you down knowing Childe is gonna be taken care of well by the traveler. 

The traveler leaves you and Childe alone, which should relieve you a little bit; however, it only makes you dread the next and probably final moments you have with him.

You both avoid each other's gazes for a little bit before he finally speaks up and glances at you, "Take care of yourself until I get there, okay?" You only give him a curt nod, still not bothering to look him in his sapphire eyes. Afraid that if he even spared a glance into them, he'd notice how scared you are.

You grabbed your bags from his hands and were about to walk away, but you stopped yourself. Screw it. You dropped your bags and pulled him in a tight hug for the last time. He hugged you back, but not as tight because he doesn't know and now, he never will.

"I-" You started but the quiver in your lip and the tears starting to blur your vision made it difficult to speak. He doesn't speak, waiting for you to do so. He probably knows that you were about to shed tears, and for that he didn't say a word. But he did pull away from the hug to hold your face in his hands and wipe some of the tears away. 

"You mean everything to me, Childe," You started, "I don't ever regret loving you." You held on to his hands that were cupping your face, pulling them away and kissing his palms. "I'm gonna miss you. A lot." You try to give him a soft smile despite your red and teary eyes.

"I'm gonna miss you too." He responds. He was about to add something further but you needed to let him know first. "I love you. Way too much."

The call for the passengers to board the ship stopped you both from continuing the conversion and now, it was time to let go. You pull his hands from your face and let them go to pick up the bags you dropped on the ground. "Have a safe trip," He says while your hands tighten their grip on your luggage. 

"Take care of yourself, Childe." You gave him one last smile and turned to painfully walk away from him and toward the boat bound for Snezhnaya.

You don't look at him the rest of the way. Once on the boat, you set your bags and find a place to settle down. Once the boat departed from the port, you completely avoid looking at Liyue Harbor. For you were too afraid.

Loving Ajax hurt, but you don't regret it one bit.

His love lies with someone else now. Although that realization and its consequences hurt you, not once did you regret making memories with him. You love him with your whole heart and you will continue to do so until your last breath.

part 2

ajsdhfjashdfjshdf idk what this was 🥴

work by milk-breadx. DO NOT COPY/REPOST/MODIFY WORKS WITHOUT PERMISSION