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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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.

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. 

do not disturb | wc: 2.7k

Cyno hums in contemplation, the cool water flowing over his fingers. He turns the faucet off just as he hears footsteps on tiles and takes a towel to his hair, counting the four seconds he knows it takes to get to the room.

“Cyno, I really don’t- oh,” you stop in your tracks, right on time. He doesn’t have to turn around to know you’re holding a familiar folder of papers with complaints outlined in red ink. “Sorry. I didn’t…”

“You should really learn to knock first.” He thinks it’s funny because the rooms here don’t actually have doors, just sweeping arches for the great big important spaces, and then tiny arches for less important rooms (like his apparently), and then medium-sized ones for… well other things. Kaveh was the Kshahrewar graduate, not him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. And… and…” He can just hear you bristle. You even straighten up a little judging from the faint shuffling. “And I don’t know, maybe you should put up a sign or something.”

Cyno rubs the white towel over his head slowly, finally standing up from where he’d been kneeling. “Maybe I should.” He’s seriously considering it—you always bring up good points. “Though, I thought everyone knew only my room is in this wing. You’d have to go out of your way to get here.” That and he’s just come back from an expedition. No one bothers him after those.

Thick water droplets and remnants of the desert circle around the drain. You hadn’t walked in on much. He had been rinsing off the sand grains that stuck to his arms and shoulders and were especially annoyingly weaved in his hair, but he’d also removed his armor—he didn’t typically wear much anyway so to see him with even less was probably too cruel, even by your standards.

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"Would You Still Love Me"

"If I was a worm?"

Ft. Dottore, Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche

Dottore:

"Of all the stupid things you could ask me..."

Stares judgementally at you, expecting you to revoke the question

Pinches the bridge if his nose and sighs when you don't

His scowl crumbles a little when you seem upset

"So you wouldn't love me if I suddenly turned into a worm."

Comes to the sudden realisation that if you're upset with him, you'll be less compliant...for science

C'mon, he's not gonna admit he's in it for the cuddles, not even in his head

Brings you a set of blueprints and a glass enclosure

"This is where you'd stay if you were a worm. I have three different design plans, so choose wisely because that's how your worm home will look for the rest of your life. You'll have a little worm car after four months if I haven't found a cure, however unlikely that is."

He will tell you all of his plans on what he'll do if you become a worm and you can't stop him because you started it

Your hypothetical worm situation is now fully prepared for, whether you like it or not

Wouldn't recommend because the diet he has planned for worm you doesn't look very appetising

Kazuha:

"You'd travel on my shoulder on in my pocket so I can share poetry with you."

Ruffles your hair and pinches your cheeks

If you swat him away he'll insist he was only checking if you were becoming a worm

Carries on like it was nothing after that

If you ask again he'll remind you that he'll love you regardless of what form you take

This does, unfortunately, spark some odd terms of endearment

You are now his "precious worm", "beloved wormy", "sweet wriggly", "fleshy straw", etc

They get progressively worse

But he swears it's all affectionate

"I'd love you if you became a leaf."

"That wasn't the question-"

"Every leaf has it's own tune when you play it like a flute, I wonder what yours would be."

Xiao:

Stares at you for a good while

"Why would you ever be a worm?"

You don't need to elaborate, because he'll eventually sigh and give in, intertwining his fingers with yours as he assures you he would

Still confused on why you'd be a worm though

But rest assured you would be the safest worm in the whole of Teyvat because nothing can touch you so long as Xiao is taking care of you

You're his little wormy, and he'll carry you in his palm when he's high up so you can have a nice view

Always worried he might misplace you or accidentally step on you

You've given him intrusive thoughts and now he's worried about a hypothetical that may never happen

Scaramouche:

"Would you love me if you were a worm though?"

"Scara what-"

"How do we know your worm brain has the capacity to comprehend that you're in a committed relationship with me? There's no telling whether you'll find some new worm lover who can give you that wormy connection I can't."

He's going off about how a worm couldn't possibly have any lingering feelings for a person

Mildly offended at the implication you might expect him to become a worm for you to live your worm lives together

"Me? A worm? How could you even entertain such a thought?"

You didn't, he drew his own conclusions and started overthinking

This is clearly your way of hinting that you don't feel loved enough to trust him (it's not, he is once again overthinking)

It has now been flipped on you to explain to him that you'd love him even if he became a worm because you'd adore him whether or not he loved you back

Taglist: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @lovers-on-the-eiffel @cxlrosii @miss-fantazmagoria @lychme @o91wo @lemonswriting @eowinthetraveller @ajaxstar

ᵔᴗᵔ . . taking care of him when he’s sick !

ᴖ.ᴖ . . gen!reader ⁝ wc. 1.3k ⁝ reblog

lance mcclain

“lance, wait—”

“sick snuggles!” is what you had last remember hearing him whoop before your dumb boyfriend plops on top of you.

his cheek settles on your chest, a lopsided grin stretched on his lips. he lets out a big content sigh. no pillow in space nor on earth can compare to your body, it felt right, perfect even, to cuddle with you. he bemoans your attempt to leave his grasp.

it isn’t completely out of the ordinary for him to pull a stunt like that on you. a flair for the theatrics must be encoded in the mcclain dna. still, a part of you presumed his ill state to tone it down but it didn’t, it appears to intensify.

and it left you feeling disoriented, to say the least.

the blanket he carried from his room drapes over your body and his. it nearly slaps you in the face if it were not for his quick reflexes saving you. while the moment felt heavenly to him, you sadly couldn’t say the same. you were reading a novel allura had recommended when he came waltzing into your room, demanding your attention.

he can be a lovable headache at times. knowing the ins and outs of his personality for years now, you sigh, there was no way of fleeing this. and as easy as that, you’ve come to terms and accept you were wedge into this position for god knows however long he wants.

"too late, gorgeous." lance winks, flashing you a sleazy grin. not a second later, you watch his face contort then let out the most egregious sneeze.

you cringe.

observing him, you notice he looks worse for wear. he really should be resting in his room, not here braving the chances of infecting you. hunk and coran will have a field if that ever happens, you thought, snickering to yourself as you picture butting heads over earth versus altean remedies.

your expression soon changes when you hear the man atop of you whining over his current state and how ‘un-pretty’ he feels because of it.

what.

lance didn’t actually expect a reply since he did have a habit of talking to himself out loud and yet it didn’t stop him from doing what he did next. suddenly, he stares up at you, the frown and puppy eyes combo, silently questioning you if he does appear as bad as he believes.

“no matter what you look like, or how you feel, i will love you the same.” twirling the strands of hair on his nape, your little ministration affords as a great distraction from his irrational thoughts.

“you mean it?”

“more than ever.” you firmly nod, earning a prolonged “aw!” from him topped off with a messy kiss on the cheek.

the moment was ruined after he pulls back from your touch and scowls at you. “hey… wait a minute… you didn’t answer my question! that mean i do look ugly.”

your boyfriend babbles on and on, playfully scolding you for ‘lying’ to him. you puff your cheeks; surely, he’ll tire himself out sooner or later, you note. any time now, his voice begins to slur until it becomes incoherent mumbles then emerging into low snores.

facing down your chest, you find lance already knocked out. the tiniest of smiles paints across your lips. this was the most peaceful you’ve seen him in a long while. you recently notice how the current turn of events started to take a large toll on his state of mind.

he loves to play it off, pretending it didn’t hurt him. he never takes it to heart, making light of grim situations for the sake of preserving the team’s spirit. it warms your heart to finally see him at peace; even though it might be at the expense of getting sick or a stiff neck later, he deserves it.

keith kogane

whether keith liked it or not, he had to reveal his vulnerable state if he wants to get better. his ailment wasn’t too major to place him back in the healing pod, it wasn’t too minor to brush off and leave him to his devices either. coran already gave him medicine to combat the flu he caught for pushing his body too far on the last mission.

even though it worked, the effects left him feeling loopy and speaking out of turn. thankfully, it didn’t spark up a fight, or an argument, despite he and lance getting into a short back and forth.

when asked, the other paladins were incline to help in these situations. it was only right since they are a team and it was expected they look after their own. nonetheless, keith’s stubbornness made it more grueling than it should’ve been. they would’ve plead shiro to try and change his mind but he was preoccupied recovering from his own injuries.

you were the last resort.

hunk, pidge, and lance know he has a soft spot for you. the chances of him saying no to you were low regardless of his adamant refusal to let anyone see him.

“are you still with me? …hello? keith?” using your free hand, you wave across his face to get his attention. ever since you return to his room from the kitchen area with the soup hunk prepared for him, he’s been acting out of sorts.

“i’m fine, i’m fine! you don’t need to fuss over me.” his voice sounds gruff. to his dismay, he falls into a short coughing fit a beat after he finished his sentence. your eyes bore into his unimpressed, as the tips of his ears turn pink.

he was grateful you didn’t comment on it.

you place the bowl in his hands. “here, eat this then go take your medicine; i’ll be changing your wound dressings when you’re done.”

one… two… three… you grab the spoon and press it against his lips. he was taking too long to move and the soup was getting cold. you manage to feed him a couple scoops until he takes the bowl from your hands and ate on his own. you snicker. you’ve never seen the red paladin so self-conscious before.

keith lowers his head further to avoid your watchful eyes. he didn’t want you to see the color on his cheeks.

once he was done eating, you hand him his medicine. he makes a face. you ask him if he wants you to help him with that too and your remark forces him to take it without another word. reaching for the first aid kit, you find him on the verge of dozing off. the side effects must be kicking in, you’ve got to make this quick.

“you’re pretty,” he mumbles, focusing on the feeling of your touch while you apply a slather of ointment on his arm then wrap it with fresh gauze.

were you always been this gentle? he wonders if you behave this way around the others too when they were sick or hurt. an heavy sensation weighs on his chest over the thought of you treating someone who isn’t him.

“you’re only saying that ‘cuz you’re delirious,” you argue, as you pack away the supplies.

keith shakes his head like a child persistent to prove he was telling you the truth. “no, i’m not! i’m being honest. you’re… you’re beautiful.”

silence dominates the room.

not knowing what else to say, you stand up to give him time to rest but his hand extends out to hold your wrist. you look down and find him staring at you, pleading for you to listen to what he has to say. “stay with me… please? …or until i fall asleep at least.”

you couldn’t say no to him, not when he looks at you fondly like that. with a sigh, you nod then take a seat on the side of his bed. his hand not so subtly trails down and intertwine with yours. his thumb rubs lazy circles on your skin until you felt him stop and hear light snores behind you.