Genshin X Gender Neutral Reader - Blog Posts

Destined for you?

Warnings: Probably OOC

Pairing: Ayato x gn!reader

Notes: I might make another part for this. Also it was somewhat rushed so there might be mistakes in it. Criticism is appreciated.

Celestia controls the threads of fate, weaving destiny into mortal’s lives from the birth of time.

And it seemed that they had woven it into the both of your lives.

The Kamisato clan has a history of being a noble and powerful clan. Though it’s power may have diminished over the years, it is still a respected clan in Inazuma. The two Kamisato siblings inherited their ancestor’s prowess for leading. The Shirasagi Himegimi, Kamisato Ayaka, was the model of perfection, the true ideal of nobility and elegance.

The Yashiro commissioner, Kamisato Ayato, was just as amazing, saving the Kamisato clan from the brink of disaster years ago and becoming the head of the clan at such a young age. Maintaining peace and prosperity is his duty, and according to others, whenever Kamisato Ayato was there, everyone was satisfied. You had only caught fleeting glimpses of him, but he was as handsome and graceful as the rumours had said.

And you? You were a commoner. Working as a gardener in the Kamisato clan.

Well, you couldn’t deny it wasn’t nice. Kamisato Ayaka personally took you in after you lost your Vision was taken from you. Even if you couldn’t remember anything, even if you felt hollow inside, it wasn’t all that bad. You had nice pay and was even allowed to stay at the Kamisato Estate until you got your vision back,

Still, there was a feeling of emptiness in your stomach that wouldn’t go away. You took other people’s advice, wandering around festivals, trekking around Chinju forest, even going back to Kannazuka and just walking there for hours on end till your legs ached and begged for you to stop.

Someone said to you,”Why not go up to the Grand Narukami Shrine and draw a Fortune Slip? You might get a sign that something lucky is going to happen.”

So you did just that. Though it was useless. The Vision Hunt decree would never end, if the Shogun continued to pursue her ideals of an everlasting eternity.

A shrine maiden greeted you as you passed under the last torii gate. You said hello in reply. The shrine maiden at the stall made no attempt to greet you, and just gestured to one of the boxes containing the paper slips. You put your hand in the box and withdrew it once you felt the folded paper between your fingers. It read “Great Misfortune”. Well, fate had made it clear to you that it was hopeless. You were about to throw it away when someone from behind you asked, “Bad luck?” They leaned over your shoulder. “That’s too bad. Why not hang it up on the Fortune slip hanger.Who knows, it might just change your luck!” They strolled up to the counter, pushing their hands into a box and pulling out a Fortune slip. “Aha! Finally! A Great fortune!”

They sauntered away, positively bouncing with excitement. You looked back at your slip, the words great misfortune in bold lettering. Maybe the person was right. Maybe you should hang it up. You moved to the board, finding a free space and putting it there. Well, nothing for you to do here now. So you walked back with the intention of heading back to the Kamisato estate.

The walk back wasn’t particularly long or arduous, but it was strange to see that there were no Nobushi in sight. Not even in the distance. Well, you should've been glad. Without your vision, you couldn’t summon your weapon or fight back. Still, it was strange. There wasn’t even a single hilichurl or slime roaming around.

There was something quite strange about this feeling you had felt, something you could not quite put your finger on.

The bushes rustled and suddenly a samurai came leaping out of it. Five more followed, including two Kairagi. This was it. You had nowhere to run as they circled around you, and no way to fight.

“Hah, we’ve got you surrounded. Now give us everything you own or we’ll have to shake you down ourselves!” The purple Kairgiri said. They started to close in on you, swords up and ready to strike.

“Heh, look at you. No way to defend yourself, no one to come and save you.” The red Kairgiri laughed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, if I were you.”

A voice spoke, sounding almost amused by the situation. The red Kaigiri turned around to see who the newcomer was. All of the samurai turned to see who he was. You couldn’t see who he was as the samurai blocked your view of him, but you could make out that it was a young man’s voice. The purple Kairgiri spoke again, obviously frustrated with the sudden turn of events.

“Tch, who are you? We were just in the middle of something. Leave now, and we might let you go with all of your bones intact.”

The unknown man sighed. “That would be a shame. Unfortunately, I cannot overlook you threatening one of my employees like this. As for who I am, I’m Kamisato Ayato, otherwise known as the Yashiro commissioner. If you didn’t know.”

A few samurai frantically whispered at this, obviously alarmed. One hissed to the red Kairgiri, “Boss, we should get out of here. It’s not worth it! You know what he could do!”

His boss just laughed at him. “Don’t worry. If we do harm him, then we’ll be the most feared group of samurai in the whole of Inazuma! We’ll be renowned as the strongest bandits in all of Inazuma. Besides, look at him, he doesn’t even have a blade on him. What could he do?”

The samurai pleaded with him. “But boss-”

“Enough! Unless you want to join him. Now, take this other one and watch over her. Don’t let her escape.” He redirected his attention to Kamisato Ayato. “Now, time for you to get crushed!” He charged at him with the other Kairgiri, speeding towards the commissioner. They both raised their giant swords to crash them down on the man. But in a flash, Sir Kamisato was gone.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you. If you stop now, I would arrest you quietly, and you wouldn’t have to face as many charges.”

The Kairgiri snarled, lunging towards Kamisato Ayato. Ayato smiled.

“Well, if that’s your choice.”

The samurai brought their swords over their heads, the blades roaring with fire and crackling with thunder. But before their swords could even touch him, water, thin and sharp, sliced them, leaving wounds right in their torsos. It left a fine mist in its wake, glistening in the sunlight. The twin Kairgiri gasped and stumbled.

“You! You’ll regret that!” The red Kairgiri came charging back. But the Yashiro commissioner didn’t stop smiling. And just as before, water condensed tightly came rushing at them. And again, they charged. And again, water sliced armour, then flesh. At one point, the other samurai jumped into the chaos in hope of saving their stronger companions, but they met the same fate as them. The samurai lay panting on the ground now, exhausted at what they had endured.

“Well, it seems like this is over now. I hope you don’t mind,” His smile finally faded. “Unless, of course, death would be a more preferable option for you?” The samurai couldn’t say anything, but it was obvious that they had already given up.

“Good. Now,” Sir Kamisato looked at you. “Can you go to the Kamisato estate for help? I won’t be able to take them by myself.”

You nodded, too stunned to reply. As soon as you arrived, you caught the attention of a few samurai there and told them about the fight with the Yashiro Commissioner and the bandits. When you had returned, the bandits were on the ground even now, fighting for breath.

The guards quickly arrested them and put them in handcuffs, taking them into Inazuma city. Sir Kamisato went with them, stating that ‘he would like to accompany them, lest they try to escape’. But before he went, he said this to you,

“Thank you for your help. I believe you work as a gardener in the Kamisato clan. I have a feeling we’ll meet again.”

That was your first meeting with Kamisato Ayato.

Always 🙏🥹

Like and reblog if you agree with this:

Real

Like and reblog if you agree with this:

This will live rent free in my head for the month

WoodChuck!!

MonoGeo team!(Art Only)

NSFW, GN!Reader, reader is wearing hoodie, you slept with the team because you got game, subspace mentioned

Arataki Itto's special talent!

Another MonoGeo stuff

NSFW UNDERCUT//PROCEED WITH CAUTION

MINOR DO NOT INTERACT

I GOT BUTTERFLIES OMG THIS IS AMAZING

💭 ; bury my heart out of sight (where you don't see me)

synopsis: they planted their heart in the ground, hoping feelings would subside. but they found it sprouting into the world once more (the moment they knew they were in deep but didn't speak their truth)

!! : masterlist.

word count: 2,834

pairings: albedo, itto, scaramouche, xiao x gn!reader (separate)

category: fluff, angst if you squint, modern/high school au, scenarios

warnings: mentions of bruises/injuries in xiao's part, fighting with scaramouche (not too physical)

notes: not afraid to say that the first half of some of these don't make sense- reblogs are greatly appreciated!! might write a part 2 with some other characters or a continuation if this fic does well

ALBEDO.

it was a study of character and emotions in his eyes. a study of character as in he wanted to know why your hands would lace together so nicely with his and why you’d bring a fluttering feeling to his chest when you’d smile. pages upon pages of notes were spread out on the desk, notes with his own observations and some that he’s seen on the internet before. to other’s it must’ve been a surprise to see the usually level-headed blonde so caught up in something that wasn’t a lab experiment. though when said out loud, he just smiled to himself on the inside, for he’s finally experiencing life as it is and not some sort of ship in a bottle.

“albedo?” a small hum leaves his lips, turning in his chair to greet you with a soft smile.

“you’re finally here.” he says, motioning a hand to an empty chair. you take a seat, watching as he sifts through sheets to uncover his sketchbook from beneath the mess and grabbing the pencil from behind his ear “this shouldn’t take too long and sorry again for taking up your time after school.”

“don’t worry about it. i’m in no rush to leave today.” you grin. albedo nods, suppressing the heat that started to creep up his neck. he starts with a few basic outlines on a blank page before letting himself wander and for a while, the soft dance of lead against the paper was the only thing filling the serene silence in the workspace.

“(y/n)?” you blink, tilting your head slightly as light-blue eyes scan your form. a cold hand reaches out, thumb on your chin and the others beneath as he positions your head, making sure the setting sun is hitting you just right. though he doesn’t let go, letting himself bask a little more and to take notice of your features he’s grown to adore.

albedo loves your eyes. that isn’t to say that he doesn’t love all of you, but there was something about the way you gazed at him in the hallways that made him melt. he’s noticed the adoration that pooled within your irises when he’d meet your eyes and the lingering feeling of your touch left him wanting — no — needing more. he wanted to know so badly how a simple glance could have such a great impact. though perhaps coming up to you and asking if he could draw you in the art room wasn’t the greatest way to ease his way into things.

your laugh brings him back to the present; hands gently cupping your face and noses so close they could touch if one of you decided to move.

“albedo?” his eyes trail across your face, from the structure of your brows to the crease of your eyes, before coming to a stop at your lips. temptation rang through him as your curious gaze slowly morphed into a slow understanding. he clears his throat, retracting his hands and stepping back.

“sorry about that.” his heart was beating out of his chest, and it didn’t seem to want to slow down anytime soon, especially when you laugh and give him such a big smile. the words lingered on the tip of his tongue, a simple string of sentences that ended with asking you to be his ready to be released. but instead, he holds them back, shoving them down and only letting out a weak chuckle. there’d be a time for what he wants to say, one that would be perfect and out of a dream but today was not it. he picks up his sketchbook again, rubbing the back of his neck before grabbing his pencil again.

“ah so, where were we again?”

ITTO.

“hey! wait up!” you look back to see itto running towards you, the button up underneath his sweater vest all crumpled and collar undone. it always surprises you how the teachers never seem to scold him for having his uniform all messy. though maybe they just gave up on doing so. he slings an arm around your shoulder, pressing his weight onto you as he hides under your umbrella.

“whew! glad i caught up to you in time before you left.” he grins, bag over one shoulder as his damp hair tickles your neck.

“forget your jacket again, itto?” you chuckle, adjusting the umbrella so it would cover the both of you better “if i’d known that sooner, i would’ve left faster.”

“what? me forgetting my jacket? psh noooooooo as if!” he crosses his arms “it's dangerous to walk home alone y’know so i thought i’d tag along. yeah, to be your bodyguard!

“you know i can handle myself just fine, itto.” you nudge him with your elbow playfully, a smirk on your face.

“oh c’mon!” he groaned “we live close by to each other and i don’t want to go home soaking wet! besides,” he turns his head to face you, a mischievous glint in his eye, before swiping the umbrella out of your hands and starting to jog off “i can always return this to you tomorrow!”

“wait get back here! what happened to wanting to protect me hah?!” his laugh can be heard through the pounding rain as the splash of your footsteps in the puddles only made him run faster. did he feel bad? sort of. itto knew he’d have to make it up to you somehow if you ended up getting sick because of him. apologies wouldn’t mean too much so maybe buying you your favourite snack would work instead. too lost in thought, he failed to notice how your steps have caught up to him.

“hey!” he lets out a grunt as you slap him on the back, making him trip over his own feet. sitting up and rubbing his head, he looks up at your frowning face that didn’t seem to be all too genuine.

“are you hurt?” you ask, picking up the discarded umbrella and scanning him over for any injuries. he patted himself down and gave a thumbs up.

“just my pride and ego but that’s nothing a little kiss wouldn’t fix.” you snort and hold out a hand to him. he takes your hand, fawning on the inside about how perfectly they fit together, before yanking you down to the ground with him, making you drop the one bit of covering you hand in the middle of the street once again.

“bet you weren’t expecting a surprise attack, were ya!” he grins at the sound of your laugh and responds with his own when you wrestle him into a headlock, messing his wet hair around.

“fine you win! but you owe me!” he looks up at you the best he can with his hair in his face and your arm wrapped around his head.

you’d taken off rather quickly after that, using your already soaked through bag as a makeshift umbrella, leaving him with lingering feelings. everything about this felt so right yet so wrong to where he couldn’t help but chuckle. he could only imagine what would’ve happened if he’d accidentally said anything about this. he can’t lose one of his closest friends, not just yet.

“in love with my best buddy, huh?” itto’s grip tightens on your umbrella as he slicks back his hair away from his face “i better not screw this up.”

SCARAMOUCHE.

a string of curses were muttered under his breath as he stormed down the hallway, entering the classroom and shutting the door with a bang. the teacher on duty for the day only gave a half-hearted glare at the cause of the noise as he tossed his bag by a desk. slipping into the desk not too far from yours, scaramouche groans and ruffles his hair, scowling as he sees you resting your head on the desk, arms acting as a pillow. from what he can see, you showed no care that you were stuck in detention and if anything, you appeared more relaxed.

the teacher up at the front closed their book, giving the two of you a pointed look and firm instructions to stay in your seats while they went to go take care of something. the door closed and a beat of silence passed before scaramouche stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the classroom floor. he slams his hands down on your desk, watching you slowly raise your head from your arms to face him and wearing that signature smirk that always sends a rush to his head.

“what now, scara? was the little fight we had in the hallways not enough for you?”

“why did you do it?” his frustrations only grow as you blink, giving no response back. with an angered grunt, he grabs the collar of your shirt and leans over the desk more, pressing you into the back of the seat “answer me!”

“whoa whoa! as far as i’m concerned, i don’t even know what i did besides tossing a few words around.” raising your hands in mock surrender, the smile never leaving your face “want to explain what this is all about?”

“you-” he huffs, a red tone coming to his face as he shuts his eyes “you idiot! you’re insufferable to work with!” he released his hold and threw his hands up in frustration, glaring at you.

“ouch. guess i hit a nerve there.” you rubbed the back of your head with a chuckle “but if you want me to remember then you’re going to have to say it.” he clenched a fist at your words. usually, he’d be able to take on conversations like this one with ease, able to keep a calm face while making the other crumble beneath his words. yet you somehow made him lose all cool. he groaned, cursing under his breath as he regained some of his bearings.

“you- you kissed me in the middle of an argument.” he rubbed his temples “and i want to know why.” you think for a moment, tapping your finger against your lip.

“well, the easy answer is that i just wanted to shut you up.” you give him a closed eye grin “besides from my observations you didn’t object to the action. in fact, you even kissed me back.” scaramouche’s face goes red and this time, he can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or pure anger. he walks back up to you, leaning on the desk again.

“now you listen here-“ you take his chin in your hand and press you finger to your lips in a shushing motion.

“the teacher’s coming back soon. don’t want to get in trouble for being out of your seat now, do you?” scowling, he yanks himself out of your grasp and flips you off before plopping back in his chair, mouthing to you that this isn’t over and turning his head to the door.

just as you had said, the teacher walked back in, scanning their eyes over the room to make sure nothing was out of place and nodding before sitting back at their desk and opening their book again. crossing his arms, scaramouche lets out a small tsk and looks away from how you’ve gone back to resting your head in your arms. there’s something about you that infuriates him so badly in the way that you question his every word with a teasing smile on your face. just thinking about it makes his cheeks go red (with anger of course). but even he can’t deny that the interactions light up a small bout of joy that makes his usual face start to crack at the sides. he barely registers the teacher saying it’s alright to leave now and runs a hand through his hair, disrupted from thought when you drop a note on the desk before making your way out of the room. hesitantly, he picks it up and unfolds it, grip tightening as he scans the contents.

“thanks for keeping me entertained

on our little detention date, scara

you never fail to amuse me with your antics ;)

(y/n) <3

p.s. if you wanted to be alone with me you should’ve just said so. there’s no need to start a fight in order to do so darling”

with a sigh, he shoves it in his pocket and resists the urge to slam a hand down on the table. So, you want to play the game this way, huh? fine. he’ll indulge in your actions. even if they feel like a nuisance to him.

“i’ve become stupid with this madness, haven’t i?” he mutters, pushing in the chair and walking into the empty hallway “may the best one win.”

XIAO.

he lets out a small grunt as the cloth wet with rubbing alcohol was lightly dabbed against his lower lip. the slow tick of the off-time clock cuts through the weight in the air as he stares at the concentrated look on your face. features gently twisted into a frown with your brows furrowed and the frustrated, yet understanding, look in your eyes. your hand takes his chin and turns his head, inspecting the bruise that started to form on his cheek.

“xiao-” he lightly swats your hand away, not bothering to look at you and using his hand to cover the bruise.

“leave it. i’m fine.” an uncomfortable silence rests over the two of you again. he flexes his hand absentmindedly, wincing slightly at the stiffness in his knuckles and how the reddened skin was starting to bruise as well. his eyes darted around the room, from the stool you were sitting on to the cabinets where you’d gotten the rubbing alcohol from and finally resting on the clock where it read that it was nearing 4:30. slowly moving his gaze back to you, he watched silently as you shifted in your spot, unsure of how to approach him. clenching his fist again with a quiet sigh, he reached his hand out to you, hesitating slightly as you looked at him with quizzical and unsure eyes.

“just... be quick with it.” he closed his eyes, wondering to himself why your hands that held his with so much care made him glow inside, basking in the warmth that you generated in his chest. the rest of it was done in mostly silence, the exception being the small soothing hums that would bubble in your throat whenever you felt his flinch from your grasp.

opening his eyes, xiao turned his head more to face you, watching as you wrapped his knuckles and cleaned off the remaining dirt from his fingertips. pulling his hand back once you were done, he noticed how you eyed the bruise on his face. sighing, he flicked your forehead, lips twitching at the corners as you whined and rubbed the spot. though the lightened moment was quickly snuffed out.

“why did you fight them?” the question made him freeze. “because it was natural” is what he wanted to say since it was. keeping the ones you like closely protected is something that shouldn’t have to be explained. but the way those people made his blood boil with their taunts and words felt different. he felt the way rage bubbled and spilled over into his words and how his vision slowly went red. all that because those words were directed at you. he huffed, crossing his arms.

“they ticked me off. that’s all.” you give a small smile, knowing how he wasn’t telling the full truth. standing from your seat, you placed everything back carefully, closing the cabinets and looking back at him.

“just- please be more careful next time. i worry about you, xiao.” he scoffed, trying to ignore the way his heart picked up and the red hues snaking their way up his neck.

“i’m capable of handling myself. there’s no use for your worry.” you pick up your bag, resting a hand on his shoulder lightly. xiao hated to admit it in his mind but he couldn’t help but slowly sink into your touch.

“even so, i’m always there for you, ok?” he struggles to keep in the whine that threatens to leave his throat when your hand pulls away. reaching for his own bag, he paused for a moment as he registered you saying bye for the weekend and in almost an instant, his body reacted before he could think.

“(y/n). wait” xiao grabbed your hand, stopping your movements as you faced him again with a perplexed look. he could spill everything in this one moment: finally ridding himself of this feeling in his chest for the time being. the words caught in his throat, leaving him open-mouthed with a red face. xiao shudders, everything he wants to say is right there but he just can’t.

“hmph.” he hastily let’s go and averts his eyes away from your quizzical gaze “n-never mind. sorry for keeping you so late and thanks for your help. not that i needed it.”

The Strings of Deception

The fog hung heavy over Sumeru, cloaking the landscape in a shroud of mystery. Your small cottage, nestled on the edge of a tranquil grove, had once been a sanctuary—a place where you could escape the chaos of the world and find solace among the trees and whispers of nature. But lately, an unsettling presence had settled in your mind, a creeping sensation that you were no longer alone in your secluded haven.

It had begun with the arrival of a peculiar letter, an invitation to a gathering organized by Sandrone, the elusive Harbinger known as the Marionette. The townsfolk spoke of her in hushed tones, warning of her mechanical creations that danced and moved with eerie precision. Whispers circulated that she could manipulate not only the lifeless but the living, bending them to her will with a mere flick of her wrist. Curiosity got the better of you, and against your better judgment, you accepted.

The night of the gathering, the sky above was shrouded in deep indigo, the moon a ghostly glow against the vast expanse. As you approached the destination—an abandoned mansion perched atop a hill—you felt an unsettling chill in the air, the atmosphere thick with unspoken secrets.

You stepped inside, the door creaking ominously as you entered. The grand hall was dimly lit, shadows playing against the walls. The flickering of candles cast moving patterns, resembling the delicate movements of the marionettes you had heard about. A shiver ran down your spine as you took in the room, your heart pounding in your chest.

Sandrone emerged from the shadows, her presence commanding. Clad in flowing garments adorned with intricate patterns that shimmered in the candlelight, she seemed to blend seamlessly into the ambiance of the mansion. Her porcelain skin and striking features captivated you, but there was something unsettling about her gaze, an intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul.

“Welcome, dear guest,” she purred, her voice smooth like silk. “I trust you’re ready for an evening of wonder and revelation.”

“I… I’m not sure what to expect,” you admitted, trying to keep your composure.

“Expect the unexpected,” she replied cryptically, her lips curling into a smile that held a hint of mischief. “Tonight, you will see what lies beneath the surface.”

As the evening unfolded, you were introduced to her creations—mechanical marionettes that moved with an unsettling grace, performing elaborate dances that captivated the few guests who had gathered. The air was charged with an energy that felt almost alive, and you couldn’t help but be drawn into the spectacle.

But as you watched, a nagging feeling gnawed at you, a whisper in the back of your mind that something was amiss. The marionettes, while enchanting, seemed to carry an undercurrent of menace, their movements almost too precise, too controlled. It was as if they were merely shadows of something darker lurking beneath the surface.

“Do you see their beauty?” Sandrone asked, her voice a melodic whisper in your ear as she leaned closer. “They are an extension of my will, reflections of my artistry. But they are also more than that. They hold secrets, truths that the living often overlook.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your curiosity piqued despite the growing unease in your chest.

“Life is an illusion, dear one,” she replied, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. “We are all puppets on strings, manipulated by forces we cannot comprehend. My creations remind us of that, of the fragile line between control and chaos.”

As the night progressed, the atmosphere shifted. Laughter and music faded into a low hum, and the guests seemed entranced, caught in a trance-like state. You glanced around, noticing the blank expressions on their faces. It was as though they were no longer participants but mere spectators in Sandrone’s grand design.

“Join me,” she beckoned, her hand outstretched, a marionette string appearing in the air, shimmering like silver. “Let me show you the truth of your existence.”

A shiver ran through you, an instinctive warning. “What truth?”

“That life, as you know it, is but a performance,” she murmured, her voice dipping low, almost hypnotic. “You fear the strings that bind you, yet they are what give you form, what allow you to dance.”

As you stepped forward, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, you felt an inexplicable pull, a connection that defied logic. The air crackled with tension as she grasped your hand, and in that moment, the world around you shifted.

Visions flooded your mind—images of puppets and marionettes entwined with memories of your own life, the moments you had felt manipulated by unseen forces, the times you had danced to the tune of others’ desires. The lines between reality and illusion blurred until you could no longer distinguish between the two.

“Do you see?” Sandrone’s voice echoed in your mind. “You are not the master of your own fate. We are all marionettes, controlled by the hands of fate.”

Your heart raced as the realization settled in. She was right. You had spent so long trying to escape the strings that bound you, striving for freedom, yet had never truly confronted the depths of your own manipulation.

“Join me,” she urged, her grip tightening, the marionette string weaving around you like a serpent. “Together, we can break free from these illusions, redefine our roles in this performance.”

But a flicker of defiance ignited within you. “No! I won’t be a puppet to your whims!”

With a surge of determination, you pulled away from her grasp, the string unraveling as you took a step back. The room seemed to tremble, shadows flickering like dying embers. The other guests blinked as if awakening from a dream, confusion filling their eyes.

“You dare defy me?” Sandrone’s expression darkened, a flicker of something dangerous sparking in her gaze. “You would choose the chains of reality over the freedom I offer?”

“I choose to face my own truths!” you declared, your voice steadying as you stood your ground. “I refuse to be your pawn in this twisted game!”

A silence fell over the room, tension hanging in the air like an electric current. For a moment, it felt as though the world had paused, caught between illusion and reality. The marionettes froze, their movements stilled, and for the first time, you saw Sandrone’s true self—a woman who had lost herself in her quest for control.

“Then you leave me no choice,” she said, her voice low and resonant, laced with both admiration and frustration. “If you wish to walk away, then you must sever the strings entirely.”

With a flick of her wrist, the marionettes sprang to life, their movements now more menacing, their eyes glowing with a fierce intensity. Panic surged through you, but a newfound resolve blossomed within your heart. You had come to understand the power of choice, the strength that lay in defiance.

“Stand with me!” you shouted to the other guests, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “We can break free together!”

As if awakened from a trance, the guests rallied around you, their collective strength pushing against the force of Sandrone’s control. Together, you faced her, united in your resolve to reclaim your agency.

“Enough!” Sandrone’s voice rang out, the marionettes hesitating as they sensed the shift in energy. “You think you can resist me? I am the master of this illusion!”

But the resolve in your heart burned brighter than the shadows around you. “We will not be your puppets!”

With that declaration, you and the guests reached out, intertwining your hands in a circle, a barrier of defiance against her grasp. The marionettes faltered, their movements stilled as the power of your collective will surged forward.

A blinding light erupted from your joined hands, washing over the room, and in that moment, the illusion shattered. The marionettes crumbled to the ground, lifeless and still, as Sandrone’s expression shifted from fury to realization.

“No… what have you done?” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

“We’ve broken the chains,” you said, your voice steady as the light enveloped her. “We will not dance to your tune any longer.”

In that moment, the mansion transformed, the shadows receding as the truth emerged. The once-oppressive atmosphere shifted into one of liberation, the lingering darkness replaced by the warmth of newfound freedom.

As the last vestiges of Sandrone’s control faded, she stood before you, her porcelain features softened, vulnerability shining through the remnants of her facade. “You… you have taken everything from me.”

“No, we have taken back our own lives,” you replied, a sense of empathy washing over you. “You have your own strings to cut, Sandrone. Find your own truth.”

And with that, you turned away, leaving the mansion behind. The fog began to lift, revealing a world unshackled from the chains of illusion, where each step felt like a reclaiming of agency and truth. The night was still, but it was no longer filled with the haunting echoes of manipulation.

As you made your way back to your cottage, the stars twinkled overhead, and a sense of hope blossomed within your heart. You had faced the darkness, and in doing so, had discovered the light.

The Legend of Capitano

The evening mist rolled through the quiet village of Liyue like a whispered secret, shrouding the cobblestone streets and thatched roofs in a spectral embrace. Lanterns flickered dimly, casting shadows that danced along the walls as villagers hurried home, eager to escape the encroaching darkness. Tales of a fearsome figure had spread through the town like wildfire—an enigmatic warrior known as Capitano, one of the dreaded Harbingers of the Fatui. The stories spoke of his martial prowess, of battles won and enemies vanquished, but more than that, there were whispers of something supernatural, something that sent chills down the spines of even the bravest souls.

You had come to Liyue seeking peace, a place far removed from the conflicts that plagued the rest of Teyvat. Yet, as the tales of Capitano reached your ears, it became clear that even this tranquil village was not immune to fear. The villagers spoke of shadows lurking in the woods, of a great figure clad in dark armor, and of an unseen terror that stalked the night.

It was on one such misty night that you found yourself wandering the outskirts of the village, drawn by a strange compulsion. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the moon hung high above, illuminating the path ahead with an otherworldly glow. You had always been captivated by the unknown, by the tales that stirred the imagination, and now you found yourself drawn into the very heart of one such legend.

As you ventured deeper into the woods, a sudden rustling caught your attention. Your heart raced as you turned, expecting to see a mere animal, but instead, you found yourself face-to-face with a figure draped in shadow. The imposing silhouette loomed before you, armor glinting in the moonlight, a dark helm obscuring his face. It was Capitano.

“Lost, are we?” His voice was deep, resonant, and sent a thrill of both fear and intrigue through you. There was an authority in his presence, a strength that made your pulse quicken.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. “I was... curious.”

“Curious?” He stepped closer, the light catching the edges of his armor, revealing a fierce expression beneath the shadows. “Curiosity can lead to peril, especially in these woods. Many have wandered too far and have never returned.”

There was something almost hypnotic about him, a magnetic pull that drew you in despite the warnings echoing in your mind. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your curiosity piqued even more.

He tilted his head, a glimmer of something—perhaps amusement—flashing in his eyes. “I am the guardian of these woods, or perhaps a specter, depending on who you ask. The villagers fear me, as they fear the unknown. But fear is a double-edged sword. It can protect or consume.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. You sensed a depth to him that transcended mere martial prowess—a complexity that made him both fearsome and fascinating. “Why do you stay here, then? If they fear you so?”

“Because I am bound to it,” he replied, his gaze piercing through the veil of night. “These woods have secrets that must be guarded. My duty is to ensure that those secrets remain hidden. There are forces at play that even I cannot fully comprehend.”

The tension in the air thickened, and a chill ran down your spine. You wanted to ask him what he meant, but something in his demeanor warned you to tread carefully. “But what about the villagers?” you ventured, your heart pounding. “Don’t you wish to show them you mean no harm?”

A shadow passed over his features, a flicker of sorrow mixed with determination. “They would not understand. To them, I am a monster. They see only the surface—the armor, the darkness. They do not see the burden I carry. To break that perception would require more than mere words.”

You stepped closer, feeling an inexplicable connection forming between you. “What if I could help?” you offered, your voice steadying. “What if I could show them that you’re not a monster?”

Capitano studied you for a long moment, as if weighing your resolve against the shadows that cloaked him. “It would not be easy. Fear runs deep, and once instilled, it is not easily erased. But should you choose to tread this path, you must understand the risks.”

You nodded, a surge of determination coursing through you. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Perhaps you should be,” he replied, a hint of a smile breaking through the darkness. “But bravery often lies in the face of fear, does it not?”

Over the next few days, you returned to the village, emboldened by your encounters with Capitano. Each night, you would meet him in the woods, sharing stories, learning of his past and the weight of his role as protector of the secrets hidden within. As you grew closer, you realized that beneath his fearsome exterior lay a soul burdened by duty and loneliness.

With each passing night, you formulated a plan—a way to bridge the gap between him and the villagers. You spoke of Capitano’s virtues, of his bravery, and the purpose he served, hoping to dispel the darkness that surrounded him in their eyes. But skepticism ran rampant. The villagers were too entrenched in their fears, too quick to dismiss your words as folly.

“You’re risking everything for a man you barely know,” one villager admonished. “He is nothing but a specter, a harbinger of death.”

But you couldn’t give up. You felt a connection to him that you couldn’t explain, a shared understanding of the burdens that came with their respective paths. “He is not a monster! He is protecting us from the true dangers that lurk beyond our perception!”

On the night of the harvest festival, you finally devised a plan to reveal Capitano’s true self to the villagers. You invited them to the woods, promising a spectacle that would dispel their fears once and for all. You hoped that, if they saw him not as a shadow but as a man, their perceptions might change.

As the villagers gathered, whispers of doubt filled the air. You stood before them, heart pounding in your chest. “Please, trust me! Capitano will show himself.”

With a wave of your hand, you called out to him. The silence thickened, the air electric with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the shadows, his armor gleaming under the moonlight.

Gasps echoed through the crowd. Fear was palpable, yet there was also intrigue. Capitano stood tall, imposing and formidable, yet there was a softness in his gaze as he looked at you, urging you forward.

“Fear not,” he called, his voice steady. “I am not here to bring harm. I am bound to these woods, to protect that which is sacred.”

But the villagers remained wary, their fear outweighing your efforts. “You’re a monster!” one shouted. “We know what you are!”

At that moment, you felt the weight of their fear pressing down on you, but you refused to falter. “He is not a monster! He has protected us, hidden us from true danger! You cannot let fear dictate your lives!”

Capitano stepped closer, lowering his head as if to bring his presence to their level. “Listen to your hearts,” he implored, his voice echoing in the silence. “I am but a guardian, tasked with a purpose you do not yet understand. Embrace the truth, and you shall find peace.”

Slowly, the atmosphere began to shift. Some villagers took tentative steps forward, curiosity igniting where once there had only been fear. But others remained entrenched in their distrust, their eyes darting between you and Capitano.

“Who will stand against me?” he challenged, his voice rising above the murmurs. “Who will join me in the fight against the darkness that threatens to consume us all?”

In that moment, you felt a flicker of hope. One brave villager stepped forward, heart pounding yet resolute. “I will,” they declared. “If he truly protects us, then I will stand with him.”

With that, others began to follow suit, stepping out of the shadows of their own fear. And as the realization spread through the crowd, Capitano’s presence shifted—no longer just a figure of dread, but a symbol of hope.

As the night wore on, you watched the villagers engage with Capitano, their laughter mingling with the whispers of the night. The fear that had once held them captive began to dissolve, replaced by an understanding that had once felt so distant.

In that moment, standing beside Capitano, you felt a warmth blossoming within you. Together, you had shattered the chains of fear that bound the villagers, transforming dread into camaraderie.

Yet, as you looked at him, a thought nagged at the edges of your mind. You knew that even now, the specter of fear was not entirely vanquished. But perhaps, together, you could face whatever lay ahead—whether it be darkness or light.

Capitano met your gaze, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. In that moment, you understood that legends could evolve, that they were not merely stories of fear, but of the courage it took to confront it.

And perhaps, just perhaps, the legend of Capitano would transform from one of dread into one of resilience, a tale of a guardian who stood steadfast against the night, with a heart that beat fiercely beneath the armor.

The Masque of Columbina

The air in the grand palace was thick with the scent of incense and the distant hum of whispered conversations. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the sprawling ballroom where masked guests twirled in an endless waltz. Opulence dripped from every corner—the walls gilded in gold, chandeliers sparkling with a thousand jewels, and the attendees dressed in extravagant silks and velvets, their faces hidden behind intricate masks.

It was a masquerade unlike any other, a night meant to banish the specter of death that loomed ever-present outside the palace walls. You stood at the edge of the festivities, uneasy, even though the laughter and revelry echoed around you. For beyond these walls, the Red Plague ravaged the world, an unstoppable force that devoured villages and cities, leaving only death in its wake. And yet, inside this haven, a fortress of privilege, it was as though the world had forgotten its suffering.

Your fingers tightened around the stem of the wine glass in your hand, the dark liquid inside reflecting the light like blood. No matter how much you tried to lose yourself in the grandeur of the event, you couldn’t shake the weight that pressed on your chest—the sense that something was terribly wrong, that no amount of gold or velvet could hold back the inevitable.

And then, as though your thoughts had summoned it, a figure emerged from the shadows.

She appeared at the far end of the room, as if from nowhere. At first glance, she seemed to be one of the countless revelers—a woman in a flowing gown of deep crimson, a mask obscuring her face. But there was something different about her, something that drew your gaze and refused to let go.

Her mask, unlike the others, was pale and delicate, like the face of a porcelain doll. Her eyes, though hidden beneath the shadows of her mask, seemed to gleam with an unsettling light, as if they saw through the façade of the masquerade and into the heart of every soul present. Her movements were slow, deliberate, almost like a dance—ethereal, haunting, and yet utterly hypnotic. The music swelled, and as if on cue, the other guests parted to make way for her, though they did not seem to notice her approach.

You found yourself rooted to the spot, unable to look away as she glided across the floor, closer and closer, until she stood before you.

"Why do you linger at the edge of the party, dear one?" Her voice was soft, lilting, as though she were singing rather than speaking. It sent a shiver down your spine. "Surely, on a night like this, you should be dancing?"

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way her presence seemed to fill the space around you. "I... I don’t feel much like dancing tonight."

The woman tilted her head, as if considering your words. Her lips, painted the color of blood, curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Ah, I see. You’re afraid, aren’t you?"

You stiffened. "Afraid of what?"

Her smile widened, and she leaned closer, her voice a breath against your skin. "Afraid of what waits outside these walls. The Red Plague. The death that no mask, no walls, can keep out forever."

A chill ran through you, and you took a step back. "Who are you?"

She laughed softly, the sound low and melodic. "I have many names," she said, brushing a delicate hand against her mask. "But tonight, you may call me Columbina."

The name sent a wave of unease through you. Columbina, one of the Harbingers of the Fatui, a woman shrouded in mystery and darkness. You had heard of her, of course—whispers of her ethereal beauty and her deadly power. It was said that she moved through the world like a ghost, untouched by time, untouched by the pain and suffering that gripped the rest of Teyvat.

"I didn’t realize you were... invited," you said cautiously.

Her eyes glittered behind the mask. "Invited?" She laughed again, this time louder, the sound echoing through the ballroom. "I don’t need an invitation. I go where I am needed, where I am called."

She reached out, and before you could react, her fingers brushed against your cheek, cold as ice. "And tonight, I am here for you."

Your breath caught in your throat. "For me? Why?"

Columbina’s smile softened, though it did nothing to ease the growing dread in your chest. "Because you are not like the others. You see the truth, don’t you? You know that no matter how grand this masquerade may be, no matter how many walls they build, death cannot be kept at bay."

Her words wrapped around you like a vice, tightening with every breath you took. She was right. Even now, you could feel it—the creeping, suffocating presence of something inevitable, something inescapable. The Red Plague had not yet touched the palace, but it was only a matter of time.

"That’s why they wear the masks," Columbina whispered, leaning closer still. "They think they can hide from it. But death is not so easily fooled."

Your heart pounded in your chest as she pulled away, turning her gaze to the rest of the ballroom. "Look at them," she said, gesturing to the swirling mass of dancers. "They laugh, they drink, they dance. All the while knowing that their time is running out. They are all trying to escape, but none of them will."

The room seemed to blur, the laughter and music fading into a distant hum as you stared at her. She was right—there was no escape. This masquerade, this charade of life and luxury, was nothing more than a distraction, a way to pretend that death wasn’t looming just beyond the doors.

"Come with me," Columbina said suddenly, her voice pulling you from your thoughts. She held out her hand, her eyes locking onto yours. "Let me show you the truth."

You hesitated, your mind spinning. There was something about her, something you couldn’t explain. She was terrifying, yes, but there was also a strange allure to her—a beauty intertwined with doom, as though she were both the angel of death and the one who could save you from it.

"What truth?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Her smile returned, soft and knowing. "The truth that there is no escape. That death is not the end, but a beginning. That I can give you peace, if you are willing to see it."

The weight of her words settled over you like a shroud, and for a moment, you considered it. What if she was right? What if there was something beyond the fear, beyond the endless running? What if there was a way to face the inevitable and emerge unscathed?

Before you could make a decision, the clock struck midnight.

The sound reverberated through the ballroom like a death knell, and in an instant, the atmosphere shifted. The laughter ceased, the music faltered, and the dancers froze in place. The room was silent, save for the slow, deliberate footsteps of a figure at the far end of the hall.

It was a man—tall, cloaked in black, his face hidden behind a mask the color of blood. He moved with the grace of a predator, each step purposeful and slow. And as he approached, the guests began to back away, fear etched into their faces.

Columbina watched with a smile, her eyes gleaming with a strange light. "Ah, the final guest has arrived."

You stared at the man, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something unnatural about him, something that set your teeth on edge. And then, with a sudden, sickening realization, you understood.

The Red Death had come.

The man stopped in the center of the room, his gaze sweeping over the silent crowd. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and removed his mask.

The room erupted into chaos.

Guests screamed and fled, their masks torn from their faces as they tried to escape the inevitable. But there was no escape. The doors were locked, the windows barred. And as the Red Death moved through the crowd, his touch bringing swift and terrible ends, you realized that Columbina had been right all along.

There was no escaping fate.

You turned to her, your heart racing with terror. But Columbina was calm, serene, as though she had known this would happen from the start. She met your gaze, her smile soft and haunting.

"Do you see now?" she asked quietly. "There is no need to fear. Death comes for us all. But I can offer you peace."

Her hand extended once more, and this time, you didn’t hesitate.

As you took her hand, the chaos around you seemed to fade into the background. The screams, the terror, the inevitability of the Red Death—all of it vanished, leaving only Columbina’s gentle presence beside you. She led you away from the madness, away from the fear, into the quiet stillness of the night.

And in that moment, you understood.

She had been right all along.

The Island of Sandrone

he mist hung thick over the ocean as your ship approached the remote island. Your heart raced with both anticipation and unease. This place—this isolated stretch of land, shrouded in secrecy—was known only to a select few, whispered about in hushed tones across Teyvat. The island belonged to none other than Sandrone, the Puppet Tinkerer, one of the enigmatic Harbingers of the Fatui. It was said that here, far from the eyes of the world, she conducted her experiments—pushing the boundaries of life and death, of human and machine.

You were sent by your nation’s scholars to investigate the rumors. Word had spread of Sandrone’s mechanical creations—beings who looked like people, but weren’t. Puppets that moved, thought, and acted with eerie precision. It was unclear whether they were mere machines or something far more disturbing.

As the ship docked at the desolate shore, a chill ran down your spine. The island was a bleak, inhospitable place—rocky cliffs and twisted trees bent against the ceaseless wind. But it wasn’t the landscape that unsettled you. It was the silence. No birds, no animals. Just the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the faint hum of machinery in the distance.

A small figure approached from the mist—a woman in white, flanked by two tall, mechanical beings whose joints creaked as they moved. As they drew closer, you recognized the woman from the descriptions. Sandrone.

She was younger than you expected, her delicate features framed by an elegant, yet utilitarian outfit. Her eyes were sharp, like a craftsman studying their latest creation. There was an air of cold detachment about her, as though she existed on a different plane of existence from those around her.

"Welcome," Sandrone said, her voice soft but commanding. "You’ve come to see my work, I presume."

You nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze. "I’ve heard... rumors," you said cautiously. "About what you’re doing here."

A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Rumors," she echoed, turning away from you and beckoning you to follow. "People always fear what they don’t understand. But I assure you, my work is far beyond mere gossip."

You followed her deeper into the island, the mechanical beings flanking you both like silent sentinels. The terrain shifted as you approached the center of the island—what had once been wild and untamed gave way to carefully constructed pathways and towering structures. The air buzzed with the sound of machinery, and as you looked around, you caught glimpses of Sandrone’s creations—mechanical puppets, each more intricate than the last, moving about their tasks with eerie precision.

"They look so... lifelike," you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away from them.

Sandrone glanced at you with a hint of amusement. "Lifelike, yes. But they are not alive. They are my creations, my masterpieces. Machines, nothing more."

Her words were cold, clinical. But as you continued to follow her through the winding pathways, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of unease. There was something unsettling about the way these puppets moved—something too smooth, too perfect. They walked, spoke, and gestured like humans, but their eyes were empty, devoid of any spark of life. It was as though they were merely imitating humanity.

"How did you create them?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Sandrone stopped in front of a large, glass-walled structure—her workshop, it seemed. Inside, you could see more puppets being constructed, their bodies in various stages of assembly. The sight was both fascinating and horrifying.

"The process is... complicated," Sandrone replied, her voice taking on a tone of pride. "It requires a delicate balance of mechanics and... biology."

Your stomach twisted at her words. "Biology?" you echoed, feeling a knot of dread form in your chest.

Sandrone’s smile returned, sharper this time. "Oh yes. Machines alone cannot mimic life. There are certain... qualities that must be taken from living beings. Tissue, nerve endings, sometimes even organs. Only then can they truly function as I intend."

You recoiled, the weight of her words hitting you like a blow. "You’re using... people?"

Sandrone’s gaze remained calm, unbothered by your horror. "Only those who no longer have use for their bodies. Criminals, the condemned, the forgotten. They are given new purpose in my creations. It’s a kindness, really. To transcend the limitations of human flesh, to become something greater. Isn’t that what we all desire?"

Her words chilled you to the bone. There was no remorse, no hesitation. To her, this was science, progress—nothing more. But to you, it was something far darker. The lines between life and death, between human and machine, had been blurred beyond recognition. What she was doing here on this island was unnatural, an affront to the very essence of what it meant to be alive.

"You’re playing with forces you don’t understand," you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "This... this is wrong."

Sandrone’s eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. "Wrong?" she repeated, stepping closer to you. "Tell me, what is wrong about pushing the boundaries of science? What is wrong about creating something perfect, something that transcends the frailty of human life?"

You stumbled back, your mind reeling. "But they’re not alive. They’re puppets, machines—soulless."

"Souls are irrelevant," she snapped, her calm demeanor slipping for the first time. "What matters is control. Power. Efficiency. Humanity is weak, prone to failure. My creations... they are flawless."

Her words echoed in your mind, filling you with a deep sense of dread. She wasn’t just reshaping life—she was destroying it, twisting it into something unrecognizable. And worse still, she believed she was doing the world a favor.

"What happens to the people you take?" you asked, your voice shaking.

Sandrone’s smile returned, colder than ever. "They cease to be. Their bodies become vessels for something far greater. They live on, in a sense. Isn’t that a form of immortality?"

"No," you whispered, backing away from her. "It’s a nightmare."

Sandrone watched you, her eyes gleaming with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. "A nightmare?" she repeated softly. "No, my dear. You’re mistaken. This is the future. And soon, the world will understand that. Whether they wish to or not."

You turned, your heart pounding in your chest as you fled the workshop, the sounds of the island’s machinery ringing in your ears. But as you ran, the truth of Sandrone’s words settled into your bones. There was no escaping this island, no escaping the horrors she had created.

And as the mist closed in around you, you realized with growing terror that you were already too late. You had walked into the web of a woman who saw herself as a god—and now, there was no way out.

The Banker’s Thirst

The sprawling estate of Pantalone, known far and wide as the Regrator of the Fatui, was a place of beauty and terror. Its cold, marble halls stretched endlessly, its opulence and luxury flaunting wealth and power beyond imagination. There, in the heart of Snezhnaya, it stood like a fortress, casting long, foreboding shadows over the snow-covered landscape, a symbol of untouchable dominance.

You had arrived at Pantalone's estate after weeks of correspondence. It had started innocently enough—formal letters exchanged between you, a representative of a foreign business, and the notorious banker. He had expressed interest in expanding his influence beyond the frozen borders of Snezhnaya, his ambition stretching out like an unseen force. You had been tasked with handling the negotiations on behalf of your nation, unaware of the dangerous game you were about to play.

From the moment you stepped foot onto the icy grounds of his estate, you could feel it—a sense of dread, lingering beneath the surface. The cold seemed sharper here, the air heavier with unspoken words and hidden intentions. And as you approached the grand entrance, the massive doors opened, revealing a figure that commanded attention.

Pantalone was waiting for you.

He was a man of refinement and elegance, his every move calculated and precise. His clothes were tailored to perfection, his demeanor one of quiet control. But it was his eyes that drew you in—sharp and dark, like the endless depths of the ocean. They seemed to see through you, reading every thought, every fear that flickered across your mind. His smile, polite and welcoming, held a dangerous edge, as though he were a predator preparing to devour his prey.

"Welcome," he said, his voice smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. "I trust your journey was pleasant?"

You nodded, though your heart raced in your chest. There was something unsettling about him, something that made the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. But you pushed the feeling aside, reminding yourself that you were here on business.

"The journey was long, but manageable," you replied, doing your best to match his calm demeanor. "Thank you for receiving me on such short notice, Lord Pantalone."

His smile widened slightly, though it never reached his eyes. "It is my pleasure," he said, stepping aside to let you enter. "I am always eager to meet those with... potential."

As you crossed the threshold into his home, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, heavy and penetrating. The estate was as grand as you had imagined, its walls lined with priceless art and artifacts, the very air humming with the wealth and power that Pantalone had accumulated. But there was something else here, something you couldn’t quite place. An undercurrent of darkness that seemed to seep into every corner, every shadow.

"I must commend your reputation," Pantalone continued, leading you through the labyrinthine halls. "It is not often that I find someone so... intriguing. Your letters were most informative."

There was a pause as he glanced at you, his smile still present, but colder now. "But I imagine you know that already."

You swallowed, trying to ignore the unease that twisted in your gut. "I’m here to discuss the details of our agreement," you said, hoping to steer the conversation back to the business at hand. "Your interest in expanding your operations is well-known, and I believe we can find mutual benefit in—"

"Mutual benefit," he interrupted, his voice a purr. "Yes, I’m sure you believe that." He stopped walking, turning to face you fully, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But I must ask... do you truly understand what you are dealing with? Do you know the nature of what you have stepped into?"

There was a threat in his words, subtle but unmistakable. You met his gaze, trying not to show your fear. "I understand enough to know that this partnership could be lucrative for both sides."

Pantalone chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Lucrative, yes. But there are other... considerations." He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Power, for instance. Influence. Control. These are things that cannot be measured in mere currency."

You found yourself backing up, instinctively retreating from his looming presence. But there was no escape from him. His eyes were locked onto yours, his gaze piercing, as though he could see the very essence of your being.

"You are here because I chose you," he said quietly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I have seen countless individuals come and go, each one thinking they could strike a bargain with me, that they could outwit me in some way. But none of them truly understood the nature of the game they were playing."

He reached out, brushing a gloved hand against your cheek in a gesture that was both intimate and terrifying. "You, however," he continued, his tone soft and almost tender, "are different. I can sense it in you. There is something... pure. Untapped. And I find myself drawn to it, like a moth to a flame."

You wanted to pull away, to run, but his gaze held you captive, his touch sending a strange warmth coursing through your veins. There was something about him, something otherworldly, that made it impossible to look away. His voice was like silk, wrapping around your mind, clouding your thoughts.

"I can give you what you desire," he murmured, his lips curling into a smile that was both seductive and sinister. "Wealth, power, influence—everything you could ever dream of. All you have to do is... trust me."

His words hung in the air like a dark promise, and for a moment, you considered it. The temptation was there, undeniable. To have everything you ever wanted, to rise above the constraints of your world, to be free from the limitations that had always held you back. It was an offer too good to refuse.

But there was a price.

You could see it in his eyes, the hunger that lurked beneath his calm facade. He wanted more than just a partnership, more than just an alliance. He wanted you. Your mind, your body, your soul—he wanted to possess you completely.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you whispered, though even you could hear the tremor in your voice.

Pantalone’s smile widened, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Oh, but you do," he said softly. "You know exactly what I’m talking about. And you know that there is no escaping it."

His hand moved to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze fully. "I am offering you immortality," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "A life free from the chains of time, from the decay of the mortal world. Together, we can transcend it all. You and I—eternal, unstoppable."

Your heart raced, your mind screaming at you to run, to escape before it was too late. But your body refused to move, held in place by the sheer force of his presence. There was no escape from him. No way to break free from the web he had woven around you.

"I... I can’t," you managed to say, your voice barely audible.

Pantalone’s smile faded, his expression darkening. "You can," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "And you will."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Because if you don’t... I will destroy you. And everything you hold dear."

The threat hung in the air like a blade, poised to strike. And you knew, in that moment, that you had no choice. You were trapped in his web, bound to him by forces you couldn’t understand. There was no escape from the Regrator’s grasp.

With a final, trembling breath, you nodded.

Pantalone’s smile returned, cold and triumphant. "Good," he murmured, his hand sliding down your arm in a possessive gesture. "You’ve made the right choice."

As he led you deeper into the shadows of his estate, you couldn’t help but wonder what you had just given up—and what dark fate awaited you now that you had fallen into the grasp of the Banker.

The Portrait of Innocence

The cold halls of the House of the Hearth were filled with whispers—dangerous secrets and murmurs that seemed to drift like smoke, lingering in the air long after the words had faded. It was a place of power and influence, ruled by the most cunning of the Fatui, each member carefully selected for their skill and ruthlessness. And at the center of it all was Arlecchino, the Knave.

Her reputation preceded her, a woman of cold beauty and even colder ambition. She commanded respect, fear, and devotion in equal measure. The children of the House, raised under her watchful eye, adored her as their matron, but they knew better than to cross her. Her mask of elegance and charm concealed something far more dangerous beneath, a predator lurking behind every polite smile and graceful gesture.

You had come to the House under strange circumstances—a visitor, an outsider with no ties to the Fatui. Your connection to her world was tenuous at best, and yet, you found yourself drawn into it, into her orbit. Arlecchino had taken a peculiar interest in you from the moment you met, her sharp eyes assessing, her gaze lingering on you with a calculated intensity that left you unsettled. And though you should have feared her, there was something undeniably magnetic about her presence, something that pulled you closer despite the warnings that echoed in the back of your mind.

"You are different from the others," Arlecchino had said, her voice soft yet commanding. "You don't belong here, and yet... I can see something in you. Something untouched."

Her words had left you confused and intrigued, a strange mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite place. There was something in the way she spoke to you, something in her eyes when she looked at you, that made you feel both exposed and desired. And as the days passed, you found yourself seeking her out more and more, captivated by her presence, despite the danger that seemed to radiate from her like a warning.

It was during one of these encounters that she led you to a small, dimly lit room deep within the House. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and in the center of the room stood an ornate, gilded mirror—a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its frame adorned with intricate carvings of serpents and roses. The surface of the mirror gleamed in the candlelight, reflecting the room with eerie clarity.

Arlecchino stood beside you, her hand resting lightly on your arm as she gestured toward the mirror. "Look," she said, her voice a low whisper. "Tell me what you see."

You hesitated, glancing at her before stepping closer to the mirror. For a moment, you saw nothing out of the ordinary—just your own reflection staring back at you. But then, as you looked deeper, something shifted. Your reflection began to change, subtly at first, then more noticeably. The face that stared back at you was no longer quite your own; it was a version of yourself—perfect, flawless, untouched by time or imperfection. It was the idealized image of who you could be, who you wanted to be.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Arlecchino's voice was like silk, smooth and intoxicating. "This mirror shows you not just your reflection, but the possibility of what you could become. Untouched by the world, untainted by age or hardship. Eternal beauty... eternal youth."

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the reflection, unable to tear your eyes away. It was mesmerizing, this vision of yourself—a version of you that was more than just human, more than just mortal. It was perfection, in every sense of the word.

But something about it felt wrong. You could feel it, deep in your gut—a gnawing sense of unease that tugged at the edges of your mind.

"What is this?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Arlecchino’s lips curved into a smile, but it was a smile that did not reach her eyes. "It is a gift," she said softly, stepping closer to you, her presence almost overwhelming. "A chance to escape the decay of time. To become more than you are, more than anyone else. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?"

Her words were like a poison, seeping into your thoughts, twisting your desires. You had never been one for vanity, never craved the kind of beauty that others sought so desperately. And yet, standing here in front of the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel the temptation tugging at you.

"What’s the cost?" you asked, your voice barely audible, though you already knew the answer.

Arlecchino’s smile widened, her fingers brushing lightly against your skin. "The cost is nothing... and everything," she said. "You won’t age, you won’t change. But your true self—the one that lives beneath the surface—will remain hidden, locked away in the mirror. Every sin, every vice, every cruel thought will manifest there, leaving you untouched. The reflection will bear the weight of it all."

The idea was both seductive and terrifying. Eternal youth, eternal beauty, the chance to live without consequence, without fear of time’s cruel hand. But at what cost?

You looked at her, searching for some sign of deception, but all you saw was her cool, calculating gaze. She was offering you something that most people would kill for, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something darker at play, something far more dangerous than she was letting on.

"What happens to the reflection?" you asked, your voice tight with unease.

Arlecchino’s eyes glinted with amusement, as if she had been waiting for you to ask that question. "The reflection will take on all the burdens of your soul," she said. "Every act of cruelty, every moment of weakness, will be etched into it. But you won’t have to look at it. You can live freely, without the weight of guilt or regret."

For a long moment, you were silent, your mind racing with the implications of what she was offering. Could you really live like that? Could you accept eternal youth and beauty at the cost of your soul?

"I don’t want to lose myself," you said quietly, turning away from the mirror to face her.

Arlecchino’s smile faded, her expression turning cold and unreadable. "You wouldn’t be losing yourself," she said, her voice sharp. "You would be elevating yourself. Becoming something more."

"But what would I become?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

She stepped closer to you, her hand brushing against your cheek. "You would become whatever you want to be," she whispered, her voice like a siren’s call. "Free from the chains of morality, free to live as you please, without consequence."

Her words hung in the air, thick with temptation. And for a moment, you considered it—considered what it would be like to live without fear, without pain, without the constant weight of conscience. It was a tantalizing thought, one that tugged at the darkest corners of your mind.

But deep down, you knew that it wasn’t freedom she was offering. It was enslavement—to her, to the mirror, to the reflection that would slowly consume everything you were.

"I can’t," you said, stepping back from her, your voice trembling with resolve. "I won’t."

For a moment, Arlecchino’s expression remained unchanged, her eyes cold and calculating. But then, slowly, her lips curved into a smile—a smile that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Very well," she said softly, though there was a dangerous edge to her voice. "But remember this: the world is not kind to those who reject its gifts. And beauty... beauty is the most dangerous gift of all."

With those words, she turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the room with the mirror. The reflection still lingered in the glass, watching you with eyes that were no longer your own.

And as you gazed into it, you realized that the temptation would never truly leave you. It would haunt you, just as Arlecchino would, a shadow lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for the moment when you would finally give in.

Melody of the Forgotten

The grand opera house of Sumeru City was the jewel of the nation’s artistic world, a towering edifice of stone and glass, alive with music and drama. Its stage had seen performances that transcended the mortal plane, and its corridors echoed with the whispers of stories long forgotten. You had been drawn to it from a young age, captivated by the splendor of the performances, the allure of the music, and the dream of one day performing on that hallowed stage yourself.

And now, that dream was within reach. You had been accepted into the opera’s prestigious company, your voice singled out as one with great potential, a rising star in the world of song. The opera house had become your second home, its backstage corridors a maze of opportunity and challenge.

But there was another presence in the opera house, one that the performers rarely spoke of—at least, not aloud. There were stories, rumors whispered among the stagehands and the older performers, of a phantom who haunted the opera house. He was said to be a master of disguise, a shadowy figure who could slip between worlds unseen. His moods were as tempestuous as the sea, his emotions unpredictable as the wind. He was both feared and revered, his influence felt in every corner of the grand theater.

No one had ever seen his face. And those who claimed to know more often spoke in cryptic tones, as if afraid to say too much. Some said he wore a mask, hiding some hideous deformity, while others claimed that he was a spirit—an echo of an ancient, forgotten soul who could never rest.

You had dismissed these stories at first, focusing instead on your training. But soon, you began to notice strange things—small, unsettling signs that you were not as alone as you once thought. At times, you would catch a fleeting glimpse of a figure in the wings, watching your rehearsals. Doors that had been locked would mysteriously open, and you would hear faint whispers in the corridors when you were sure you were alone. Most unnervingly, though, you began to find letters—perfectly folded pieces of parchment, slipped under your dressing room door.

The first letter had been a simple compliment: “Your voice is like the first breath of dawn—pure, yet aching with potential. Do not waste it.” It was unsigned, written in an elegant hand, but you had a suspicion it was from the phantom.

From that point on, the letters became more frequent, sometimes offering advice on your performances, other times cryptic messages that left you pondering their meaning for hours. And slowly, you began to realize that the phantom, whoever he was, had taken an interest in you—an obsession, even.

One evening, after a particularly demanding rehearsal, you lingered on the stage, watching as the candles in the chandelier flickered, casting long shadows across the empty seats. The house was quiet now, the other performers having retired for the night. You stood alone in the vast, echoing space, your heart still pounding from the intensity of your singing. You could feel eyes on you, though you saw no one.

"Why do you hide in the shadows?" you called out, your voice barely above a whisper, yet confident.

There was no immediate response, but you could sense something shifting in the air. Then, from the darkness of the wings, a figure stepped into the dim light—tall, with a slender frame and an air of theatricality about him. His face was obscured by a half-mask, covering the right side of his face, leaving only his left eye visible, cold and calculating.

It was him. The Phantom.

Or rather, Scaramouche.

He was known by many names—the Balladeer, the Wanderer, the Sixth Harbinger—but here, in the shadows of the opera house, he was the phantom. His movements were precise, his posture one of practiced elegance, as though every step was part of an unseen performance. His dark hair framed his mask, and though his lips were hidden in shadow, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you.

"You're brave," he said, his voice smooth and velvety, with a hint of danger lurking beneath. "Most would flee at the mere mention of me. But not you."

Your breath caught in your throat, but you refused to look away. "You’ve been watching me."

He tilted his head slightly, a slow, deliberate gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. "Yes," he admitted, with no hint of apology. "Your voice—it is unlike anything I’ve heard in years. Pure, yet raw. It needs... guidance."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a strange mixture of fear and fascination. Scaramouche was as much a part of the opera house as the stone pillars and velvet curtains, and now he stood before you, a living mystery wrapped in enigma and shadow.

"I don’t need your guidance," you said, though your voice trembled just slightly. "I’ve made it this far on my own."

He chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "Is that what you think? Do you believe you’ve come this far through sheer talent alone? No... you’ve had help—whether you knew it or not."

His words sent a chill through you. "What do you mean?"

Scaramouche’s visible eye gleamed with amusement, and he took a slow step closer. "I’ve been behind the scenes, pulling the strings. I have arranged for you to be noticed by the company, whispered in the ears of those in power. Without me, you would still be singing for an empty hall. You owe me... everything."

Your mind raced, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Had he been manipulating your career from the start? The realization struck you like a cold wave of fear and anger.

"I didn’t ask for your help," you said, your voice firmer now, though your heart was pounding.

He laughed again, this time with more cruelty. "No. But I gave it nonetheless. And now..." His eye darkened, his tone shifting to something far more possessive. "Now you belong to me."

The finality in his voice left no room for argument, and for the first time, you felt the weight of his obsession settle over you. You had always thought of him as a distant figure, a myth that haunted the opera house, but now, here he was—real, tangible, and far more dangerous than you had imagined.

"What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Scaramouche’s gaze lingered on you, his eye narrowing slightly as if assessing your every thought. Then, in a swift motion, he moved closer, his gloved hand reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I want your voice," he said softly, but there was a dark hunger in his tone. "I want it to sing only for me. I want to shape it, control it, make it perfect."

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, his fingers cold against your skin. "You don’t understand," he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, almost tender. "I have waited so long for something... someone... who could complete my music. I’ve seen mediocrity, incompetence, but you... you are different."

His obsession was suffocating, the intensity of his words sinking into your bones. You could feel the weight of his desire pressing down on you, and for the first time, you understood the full extent of his control.

"I’m not your puppet," you said, your voice shaking with fear and defiance.

Scaramouche’s lips curled into a cruel smile beneath his mask. "No... you’re not. You’re something far more precious. But make no mistake—you are mine."

The candlelight flickered as his words echoed in the empty opera house, and you felt the walls closing in around you. You were trapped in his web, caught between fear and fascination, between a desire to run and an inexplicable pull that kept you rooted in place.

"I can make you a star," he said, his voice turning soft, seductive. "I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Fame, fortune... all of it. All you have to do is sing for me."

You hesitated, the temptation of his offer gnawing at the edges of your resolve. There was something irresistible about his words, something that made you want to believe him, to trust him.

But deep down, you knew the truth. Scaramouche was no savior. He was a phantom, a manipulator, a creature of shadows who sought to control you for his own ends.

"You don’t control me," you said firmly, stepping back from him.

For a moment, Scaramouche’s smile faltered, his eye flashing with anger. But then, just as quickly, the mask of calm returned.

"Perhaps not yet," he said softly, though his tone carried an unmistakable threat. "But in the end, you will sing for me. Because there is no one else who understands you like I do. No one else who can bring out the true potential in your voice."

He stepped back, his form blending into the shadows once more, his presence as ghostly as ever.

"You will sing for me," he repeated, his voice lingering in the air as he disappeared into the darkness. "Sooner or later... you will."

The opera house was silent once more, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a curse. And as you stood alone on the stage, you knew that your fate was now intertwined with his, bound by the melody of his obsession.

The Abyss Within

Mondstadt had always been a city of song, of laughter, and the gentle murmur of wind-blessed freedom. It was a place of safety, a sanctuary from the chaos that roiled beyond its borders. But in the past few months, something had changed. A shadow had fallen over the city, creeping ever closer with each passing night.

It started slowly—a series of mysterious disappearances in the outskirts, rumors of strange creatures lurking in the woods. And then there were the sightings: a figure, tall and broad-shouldered, moving with inhuman speed and brutality, leaving destruction in his wake. Whispers spread through the city like wildfire, and the people of Mondstadt began to grow wary, unsure of what malevolent force was stalking the darkness.

You had heard these rumors, too, though you dismissed them at first. After all, you had your own distractions to deal with—your meetings with him.

You had met Childe, or Tartaglia as he sometimes called himself, by chance during your travels. He was charming, bright-eyed, and seemingly always one step ahead of you with his playful banter and infectious grin. You had taken a liking to him, finding his adventurous spirit and easy smile disarming. And despite the fact that he was a member of the infamous Fatui, you felt something... different in him.

Childe had become a frequent presence in your life, an unexpected friend, even as you knew there was more to him than the affable, mischievous man who walked beside you through Mondstadt’s markets and taverns. There was something dark beneath the surface, something you couldn’t quite place. But he had never shown it to you—until the night everything changed.

It was a crisp evening when you last saw Childe, sitting by the fountain in Mondstadt’s plaza, his usual confident grin plastered across his face as he waved you over. He greeted you as warmly as ever, but there was a tension to him that you couldn’t ignore. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his usual lively demeanor felt strained.

“You seem... distracted,” you said, watching him carefully as you sat down beside him.

He chuckled, though the sound was hollow. “Do I? Just a lot on my mind, I guess. The Fatui never rest, you know. But you don’t want to hear about my troubles. Let’s talk about you. How have things been? Still stirring up trouble in Mondstadt?”

His teasing tone was there, but there was an edge to it. He was hiding something. You had known Childe long enough to see when he was masking his true feelings.

“Childe... you can tell me if something’s wrong,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

For a moment, something flickered in his expression—a flash of vulnerability, of conflict. But then it was gone, replaced by that familiar cocky smile.

“Nothing’s wrong. I promise,” he said, standing up abruptly. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you. Come with me.”

You hesitated for only a second before following him, the unease in your stomach growing stronger with every step. Childe led you out of the city and into the woods beyond, his pace quick, almost hurried. The sky was darkening overhead, and the air was thick with the scent of rain.

“Where are we going?” you asked, glancing around at the shadows stretching across the path.

Childe didn’t answer right away. His shoulders were tense, his eyes focused ahead. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“There’s something you need to see,” he said, his voice lower now, more serious than you had ever heard it. “Something I haven’t told you.”

The trees grew denser as you followed him deeper into the forest. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a mix of curiosity and fear swirling in your mind. Childe had always been unpredictable, but this felt different—more dangerous.

Finally, he stopped in a small clearing, the moonlight filtering through the canopy above. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“Do you know why I joined the Fatui?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, frowning. He had never talked about it, and you had never pressed him for answers.

“I wasn’t always like this,” he continued, his eyes dark and distant. “There was a time when I was... different. But something changed me. The Abyss—”

He paused, his jaw tightening as if the mere mention of it was painful.

“I fell into it. I became something else. Something... darker.” His gaze shifted, his usual playfulness replaced with a cold intensity. “I’m not just the Childe you know. There’s another part of me. A part I can’t control.”

Your heart sank as his words began to sink in. You had always known there was more to Childe than he let on, but this was something far worse than you had imagined.

Before you could respond, Childe let out a low, humorless laugh. “I thought I could keep it hidden from you. I didn’t want you to see... him.”

“Who is ‘him’?” you asked, your voice trembling as you stepped closer.

Childe’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability you had seen before returned. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by something darker.

“You’ll see soon enough,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation.

Without warning, Childe doubled over, clutching his chest as a pained groan escaped his lips. You rushed to his side, panic flooding your veins.

“Childe!” you cried, reaching out to steady him.

But he pushed you away, stumbling back as his body began to change. His once warm, blue eyes turned cold and lifeless, glowing with an eerie orange light. His muscles tensed, his posture shifting into something more animalistic, predatory. His breath came in ragged gasps, his grin twisted into something cruel, dangerous.

“I told you...” he rasped, his voice now a guttural growl. “I’m not always the Childe you know.”

The transformation was complete. The man standing before you was no longer the charming, mischievous warrior you had come to care for. This was someone—something—else. His eyes gleamed with a sadistic hunger, and his movements were sharp, calculated, like a predator stalking its prey.

Fear seized your heart as you took a step back. This wasn’t Childe. This was the monster he had warned you about. And now, you were alone with him in the heart of the forest.

“Childe, please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. “You don’t have to do this.”

But the creature that had once been Childe only laughed, a low, chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“Childe?” he repeated mockingly, stepping closer. “That weakling? He’s always fighting me, holding me back. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m in control.”

Your pulse raced as he circled you, his eyes glinting with malice. This was no longer the man you had trusted, the man you had thought you knew. This was a nightmare brought to life.

You stumbled back, your mind racing as you searched for a way out, but he was too fast. In an instant, he was upon you, pinning you against a tree with a strength that left you breathless.

“Don’t look so scared,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “You should have known this would happen eventually. Did you really think you could get close to someone like me without seeing the truth?”

His words cut deep, the weight of his dual nature pressing down on you. You had seen glimpses of this side of him before—the ruthlessness, the bloodlust—but you had never imagined it would come to this.

As his grip tightened, you fought to keep your fear at bay. Somewhere beneath the monster that had taken control, the Childe you knew still existed. You had to believe that.

“Childe,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “I know you’re still in there. You’re stronger than this—stronger than him.”

For a moment, his cruel smile faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a snarl of frustration.

“You’re wasting your breath,” he growled, though there was a hint of something—something fragile and fleeting—in his voice. “He can’t save you now.”

But you refused to give up. “I’m not asking him to save me. I’m asking him to save you.”

His eyes widened, and for a brief, agonizing moment, the monster’s grip loosened. You saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the faint glimmer of the man you had come to care for. The two halves of Childe’s soul were at war with each other, fighting for control.

And then, with a shuddering gasp, he let you go, stumbling back as if the weight of the conflict was too much to bear. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his head as he fought against the darkness threatening to consume him.

“Go,” he rasped, his voice raw with pain. “Before I...”

You hesitated, torn between the fear that kept you rooted to the spot and the desperate hope that Childe could still be saved. But in the end, you couldn’t leave him like this. Not when he was fighting so hard to hold on to himself.

You knelt beside him, your hand resting gently on his shoulder. “You’re not alone,” you whispered, hoping your words would reach the man trapped within the monster.

For a long moment, there was only silence, the weight of the night pressing down on you both. And then, slowly, Childe’s breathing began to steady, his tense muscles relaxing as the darkness receded.

When he finally looked up at you, his eyes were blue once more, filled with a haunting mix of relief and sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I never wanted you to see that side of me.”

You smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “It’s part of who you are. And I’m not afraid of you.”

Childe looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ll always be fighting him,” he whispered. “But as long as you’re here... maybe I can win.”

The Crimson Veil

The heat of the summer had been oppressive, relentless. Your family estate, nestled deep in the forests outside Mondstadt, felt more like a gilded cage than a home, despite its grand stone halls and sweeping gardens. You had spent most of your days languishing in the shade of the great oak trees, seeking respite from the heavy air that clung to you like a second skin. The boredom of isolation was wearing on you, but your father insisted it was for your safety. Strange happenings had been reported in nearby villages—disappearances, whispers of something unnatural prowling the night. He would leave for long stretches, journeying to Mondstadt for business, leaving you in the care of the house staff.

And then, she came.

It was during one of your father’s longer absences, a warm evening bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. You were in the garden when the commotion at the front gates broke the tranquility. A carriage, drawn by horses as black as midnight, had appeared out of nowhere, thundering down the dirt path leading to the estate. The servants were quick to gather at the entrance, murmuring nervously as the door of the carriage swung open.

You watched from a distance, your curiosity piqued.

A figure emerged—tall, graceful, and draped in a flowing crimson cloak. Her presence was commanding, even from afar. The hood of her cloak shielded her face from view, but the way she moved was almost hypnotic, as though every step she took was a deliberate act of seduction.

The woman paused at the entrance, her head turning ever so slightly in your direction. Even though you couldn’t see her eyes, you felt the weight of her gaze, and a chill ran down your spine despite the warm summer air. You were frozen in place, unable to look away.

The housekeeper hurried forward, her voice trembling as she addressed the mysterious guest. “M-madam, may we help you?”

The woman’s voice was like velvet, smooth and rich, yet carrying an undercurrent of something dangerous. “I apologize for the intrusion. My carriage met with misfortune on the road, and I seek shelter for the night.”

Your father had always been generous, especially to those of noble blood, and the stranger’s attire suggested she was no common traveler. The housekeeper hesitated only a moment before nodding, gesturing for her to enter. The woman swept past her with a fluid grace, her cloak billowing behind her like a pool of blood spreading across the stone floor.

From that moment, the house was changed.

Her name was La Signora.

She revealed little of herself, offering only vague details about her background. She was a widow, she said, and had been traveling through the region on matters of personal business. Her voice was always low, measured, but it seemed to carry with it an air of authority that demanded attention. The servants were quick to obey her, drawn to her every word, though they rarely spoke in her presence.

But it was you who became the focus of her attentions.

The first time you truly spoke with her, she found you in the garden once more, reclining beneath the shade of the oak trees. She approached without a sound, her footsteps as light as a whisper on the breeze.

“I see the sun has no power over you,” she remarked, her voice almost teasing. You looked up, startled, but as soon as you met her eyes, you felt a strange sense of calm wash over you.

Her eyes—they were the color of molten amber, glowing faintly in the dim light. Her face was striking, impossibly beautiful, yet there was something unnerving about it, something inhuman. Her skin was pale, like porcelain, and her lips were painted a deep, blood-red.

“You must be our guest,” you managed, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed. “La Signora, is it?”

She smiled, and the sight of it sent a shiver through you. “Indeed. And you must be the lady of the house in your father’s absence. How fortunate for me to find such enchanting company.”

Her words were flattering, but there was an edge to them, a weight that made your heart beat faster. You had never felt anything like it—a mixture of fear and fascination, as though you were both repelled and irresistibly drawn to her at the same time.

“I’ve heard you’ve been unwell,” she continued, her gaze sweeping over you like a caress. “These warm summers can be so draining, can they not?”

You nodded, unsure of how to respond. In truth, you had felt more fatigued than usual, a strange lethargy that had settled over you ever since her arrival. But as you sat there, beneath her gaze, you found it difficult to think of anything but her.

For the rest of the evening, La Signora remained at your side, her conversation light but somehow captivating. She spoke of distant lands and forgotten places, of beauty and tragedy intertwined. She told you stories that made the hairs on your neck stand on end, though you could not say why.

And when she finally took her leave, you found yourself longing for her return, despite the growing sense of unease gnawing at the edges of your mind.

As the days passed, your relationship with La Signora deepened in ways you could not explain. She was always near, her presence a constant, magnetic force. She began visiting you in your room late at night, when the rest of the household had long since gone to bed. The first time she appeared, it was like a dream.

You had been lying in bed, half-asleep, when you heard the faint creak of your door opening. You sat up, your heart racing, but there she stood, framed in the doorway, her cloak draped loosely around her shoulders. The candlelight flickered in her eyes, casting strange shadows across her face.

“Do not be alarmed,” she whispered, her voice soft as silk. “I thought you might enjoy some company.”

You should have been frightened, should have called for the servants. But instead, you nodded, your pulse quickening with anticipation rather than fear.

La Signora approached your bedside, moving with that same eerie grace. She sat beside you, her eyes never leaving yours. Her fingers brushed against your skin—cold, so cold—and yet you did not pull away. You felt yourself sinking into her presence, as though she were drawing you into a trance.

“I can see the fatigue in your eyes,” she murmured, her fingers trailing lightly across your wrist. “You’ve been suffering, haven’t you?”

You nodded weakly, though you were no longer sure if it was the heat or her that had been draining you. Every moment in her presence left you feeling both exhilarated and exhausted, as though she were consuming something vital from you.

She leaned closer, her breath cool against your skin. “I can help you, if you’ll let me. You have but to say the word, and I will ease your suffering.”

You should have refused, should have resisted. But her voice was like a lullaby, soothing, persuasive. Before you knew it, you had whispered, “Yes.”

Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Good.”

Without another word, La Signora leaned in, her face inches from yours. For a brief, dizzying moment, you thought she might kiss you, but instead, she pressed her lips to the curve of your neck. The sensation sent a shock through your body, a strange mixture of pleasure and pain as her fangs pierced your skin.

You gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as the world seemed to spin around you. Your vision blurred, but all you could feel was her—her cold touch, her breath, the strange pull of her fangs as she drank from you.

It was over in a matter of seconds, but it left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. La Signora pulled away, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. She licked her lips, the faintest trace of blood staining them.

“You are mine now,” she whispered, her voice a soft, dangerous purr. “Do not forget that.”

You lay there, trembling, unable to speak as she rose from your bed and disappeared into the shadows.

From that night onward, La Signora’s hold on you tightened. You grew weaker by the day, your skin paling, your body frail. But every night, she returned, her presence both a curse and a balm to your growing despair. You could not escape her, and deep down, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

The villagers whispered of a sickness that had begun to spread, of young women falling ill, drained of life. But you knew the truth. It was her—La Signora. She was the cause of it all, and you were her willing victim.

Your father returned one evening, his face lined with worry as he looked upon you. He demanded to know what had happened, but you could not tell him. You could only lie there, weak and helpless, knowing that La Signora’s hold on you had grown too strong to break.

That night, she came to you again, but this time, her smile was different—sharper, crueler.

“It’s almost time,” she whispered, her voice a cold breeze against your fevered skin. “Soon, you will be mine completely, and we will be together forever.”

You wanted to resist, to fight against the dark fate she had woven for you. But as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck once more, you knew there was no escape.

You had been drawn into her web of darkness, and there was no going back.

The Clockwork Creation

The thunder roared, splitting the night in two, as jagged bolts of lightning illuminated the darkened skies above the lonely Snezhnayan lab. You stood outside the towering building, feeling your heart race with anticipation, knowing what lay within. Your hands trembled as you clutched the edges of your cloak tighter, hoping the cold night air would soothe the anxious energy surging through your veins.

It had been weeks—months, even—since you had seen him last. Il Dottore, the brilliant, enigmatic man you once knew, had withdrawn into his secret laboratory, obsessing over his latest experiment. Letters were few, and each one more cryptic than the last. His mind, once so sharp and full of purpose, seemed to unravel further with every success.

The heavy oak doors of the lab creaked open as if sensing your approach. Stepping inside, you were greeted by the harsh smell of chemicals, the scent burning in your nose. The place was darker than you remembered, the air thicker, suffocating.

You had known Dottore for years, working alongside him in pursuit of knowledge, always fascinated by his mind, his ambition. But something had changed in him. The brilliant scientist you admired had begun to twist under the weight of his obsession, pursuing power and discovery without regard for ethics or consequences.

It all started with one question that spiraled into madness: Could life be recreated?

Dottore had once confided in you his dream to conquer the boundaries of mortality, to shape life from death, to bend nature’s laws. What was once a philosophical debate had transformed into something real, something terrifying.

You swallowed hard, your footsteps echoing through the empty halls as you descended deeper into his workshop. Every corner was filled with the remnants of abandoned experiments—half-constructed automata, strange, ticking contraptions made of metal and sinew, and medical devices whose purpose you dared not imagine.

The sound of whirring gears and clanking metal grew louder as you approached the heart of the laboratory. In the center of the dimly lit room stood a towering figure—Dottore.

His back was turned to you, hunched over a large table littered with surgical tools, tubes, and vials of unknown substances. Sparks flew from the apparatus around him, filling the air with the stench of burning metal. He didn’t notice your presence at first, so consumed was he by the work before him.

“Dottore,” you called out softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of machinery.

He stiffened, then slowly turned to face you. The moment his eyes locked with yours, you knew he was no longer the man you once knew. His sharp red gaze gleamed with a feverish intensity, and a twisted smile tugged at his lips. He looked gaunt, hollow, as if sleep and sanity had long since abandoned him.

“You came,” he said, his voice low, smooth, but tinged with something unsettling. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

You took a hesitant step forward, your eyes scanning the room. On the table before him lay the culmination of his work—a creation. A body. It was large, humanoid, though something about it was grotesque in its stillness. The flesh, stitched together in patches, was pale and unnatural. Tubes connected to the figure pulsed with dark liquid, and electrodes attached to its temples sparked occasionally as Dottore worked feverishly on some unseen adjustment.

“What… what have you done?” you whispered, your throat dry as you stared at the lifeless form.

Dottore’s grin widened, his hands twitching with manic excitement. “I’ve done it. I’ve surpassed them all—Celestia, the Archons, the very laws of nature itself. I’ve created life!”

Your stomach churned at his words. “This… this isn’t life, Dottore. This is an abomination.”

His expression darkened, the once playful glint in his eyes replaced by something dangerous. “You don’t understand, do you? You never truly understood the potential. This creation—this being—is more than life. It is perfection, designed by me. It will be the first of many, a new race crafted from the brilliance of science and human ingenuity.”

You shook your head, taking a step back as the horror of it all sank in. “You’re playing with things no one should. This… this thing you’ve made—it’s not natural. You can’t just stitch together parts of the dead and call it life.”

Dottore’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you saw a flash of the man he once was. But that moment passed quickly, and the mad scientist was back, his voice dripping with condescension. “Natural? Do you think nature cares for the weak, the fragile? I’ve improved upon it. I’ve made something better. It can’t die, it can’t fail, and it will serve me as no living creature could.”

He moved closer to the table, his hands hovering above the switches and levers of the device connected to the body. The electricity in the room crackled with a strange energy, the tension thick and palpable.

“I invited you here,” Dottore said, his voice softening in an eerie imitation of warmth, “because I wanted you to witness the future. You’ve always understood me, haven’t you? You’ve been by my side for so long. I thought… you might appreciate the genius behind it.”

You stared at him, torn between the loyalty you once felt and the growing horror gnawing at your heart. He had lost himself, his brilliance consumed by ambition and madness.

“This isn’t right,” you whispered, taking another step back. “I can’t… I can’t be part of this.”

Dottore’s smile faltered, the disappointment clear in his eyes. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of hurt, but it was quickly replaced by the cold, calculating gleam you had come to fear.

“Pity,” he murmured, turning away from you. “I had hoped you would understand. But I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. When my creation awakens, the world will understand. You will understand.”

With a flourish, Dottore pulled the final lever. The room exploded with light and sound as the machinery roared to life. Lightning arced from the coils overhead, striking the body on the table with violent force. The air buzzed with raw energy as the figure convulsed, its limbs jerking in unnatural movements. The smell of burning flesh filled the room.

You watched in silent horror as the body twitched and spasmed, the once-lifeless form beginning to move with purpose. The creature opened its eyes—dull, glassy orbs staring into the void—and let out a low, guttural groan.

Dottore’s laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound of pure, manic joy. “It lives!” he shouted, his voice trembling with triumph. “I’ve done it! I’ve conquered life itself!”

The creature on the table sat up slowly, its movements stiff and jerky, like a puppet being manipulated by unseen strings. It looked around the room with blank, unfocused eyes, its mouth opening and closing as if trying to form words. But it was clear—this was no miracle of life. This was a mockery of it.

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Dottore, stop this!” you cried, your voice breaking. “This is madness!”

He turned to you, his eyes gleaming with a wild fervor. “Madness? This is brilliance! This is what humanity has been striving for all along. To become gods!”

But as the creature rose from the table, its body shaking with each movement, you saw something flicker in its eyes. Fear. Confusion. Pain. It was no god—it was a broken thing, pieced together by a man who had lost sight of what it meant to truly live.

The creature let out a low, mournful wail, its hands trembling as it looked down at its own patchwork body. For a moment, you thought you saw the smallest spark of humanity in its eyes, a brief glimmer of recognition. And then, it turned to Dottore.

The scientist stepped forward, his arms outstretched in a gesture of welcome. “You are my greatest creation,” he said softly, his voice filled with reverence. “You belong to me.”

But the creature’s face twisted into something dark, something primal. With a sudden, violent movement, it lunged at Dottore, knocking him to the ground. The two figures struggled, the sound of ripping flesh and grinding metal filling the air as Dottore’s creation fought against its maker.

You watched in horror, frozen in place as the scene unfolded. The scientist’s screams echoed through the lab, but there was nothing you could do.

In the end, Dottore’s obsession, his need to control life itself, had destroyed him.

As the creature stood over his broken body, it turned to you. For a brief moment, you thought it might attack, but instead, it simply stared. There was something in its eyes now—an understanding, perhaps. A sad, broken understanding of what it was and what it had been made to be.

And then, without a sound, it turned and lumbered out of the lab, disappearing into the cold night.

You stood there, the wind howling outside, your heart heavy with the weight of what had transpired.

Il Dottore, once the brilliant mind you admired, was gone—consumed by his own creation, a monster of his own making.

The Blackened Court

It began with a letter.

You were summoned to the far northern territories, deep in Snezhnaya, to handle an urgent matter for a prestigious client. The task seemed simple: visit an estate and help a noblewoman finalize some documents before her imminent relocation to Mondstadt. Though the instructions were vague, the pay promised was enough to make the long, dangerous journey worth it.

The letter was signed only with the name Arlecchino. A noblewoman, or so you thought.

The journey to Snezhnaya was long and arduous, the cold biting at your bones as you ventured farther into a wilderness untouched by time. Every village you passed was eerily quiet, the locals avoiding your gaze, speaking in hushed whispers whenever you mentioned your destination. You couldn't help but feel the weight of their fear, though none dared to say it outright.

By the time you arrived at the manor, high on a hill overlooking an icy expanse, the sun had already set. The grand stone building loomed over you like a tomb. Its towering spires clawed at the sky, and the air around it was thick with a sense of foreboding. Every instinct in you screamed to turn back, but duty—and the promise of gold—pushed you forward.

The heavy iron gates creaked open of their own accord as you approached, and a figure stood waiting for you on the grand staircase. She was tall, her presence commanding, even from a distance. The noblewoman’s figure was shrouded in black, her posture impossibly still.

You stepped closer, the snow crunching beneath your boots, and there she was—Arlecchino.

Her beauty was striking, but not in a way that felt comforting. Her skin was pale, almost too pale, like the marble statues of long-forgotten deities. Her hair, black as midnight, was swept back, accentuating her sharp, almost predatory features. And her eyes—her eyes were a deep crimson, glowing faintly in the dying light.

“Welcome,” she greeted, her voice soft but with an undercurrent of something darker, something ancient. “I’ve been expecting you.”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. “Lady Arlecchino, I presume?”

A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it never reached her eyes. “Indeed. Please, come inside. The night grows cold.”

There was something about the way she moved, her steps utterly silent as she led you through the grand entrance of her manor. The air inside was cold, and every shadow seemed to stretch farther than it should. The walls were lined with portraits of people you didn’t recognize—men, women, children—all staring down at you with vacant eyes. It was as though you had stepped into a place frozen in time.

The door slammed shut behind you with a resounding thud, making you jump.

Arlecchino noticed but said nothing. Instead, she led you to a lavish sitting room where a grand fire roared in the hearth. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I imagine the journey has been exhausting.”

You nodded, though you felt anything but comfortable under her unblinking gaze. You couldn’t shake the feeling that her eyes were always on you, even when you weren’t looking.

As you sat, she poured a glass of deep red wine, her movements graceful, fluid, like a shadow given form. She handed it to you, her fingers brushing yours ever so slightly. They were cold—too cold.

“To your health,” she said with that same unnerving smile.

You hesitated but took a sip, the wine thick and almost metallic on your tongue. The warmth you had hoped for never came. Instead, a strange heaviness settled in your limbs, a languid feeling of surrender washing over you. You set the glass down, your mind spinning.

“I’ve been in this manor for a very long time,” she began, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Too long, some might say. It has been… lonely.”

She moved closer, her presence suffocating as she stood before you. The firelight cast flickering shadows across her pale face, making her look almost ghostly. “I have had visitors before. Many, in fact. But none have stayed.” Her crimson eyes glinted with something dark, something hungry. “I wonder… will you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. You tried to answer, but your voice wouldn’t come. Every instinct told you to run, but your body refused to obey. It was as if the very air around her held you in place.

Arlecchino crouched before you, her cold hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to meet her gaze. “There is no need to be afraid,” she whispered, though her smile said otherwise. “You’ve come here for a reason, haven’t you? And now, you will be mine.”

Her breath was cold against your skin as she leaned closer, her lips brushing the side of your neck. The sensation sent a shiver through you, though not from the cold. It was fear—pure, primal fear. You felt her lips curve into a smile against your skin, and then, without warning, you felt the sharp sting of her fangs piercing your flesh.

The world around you seemed to spin, your vision blurring as she drank deeply, her grip on you unrelenting. Your heart pounded in your chest, but with each passing moment, the struggle became harder, your body growing weaker under her hold. And yet, there was something intoxicating about it, something that made the pain blur into pleasure.

When she finally pulled away, you collapsed back into the chair, gasping for breath, your vision swimming with darkness. She wiped a trickle of blood from her lips with the back of her hand, her eyes half-lidded in satisfaction.

“You’ll stay with me now,” she said, her voice low, intimate. “You’ll stay with me forever.”

You wanted to scream, to run, to escape this nightmare. But even as you tried to stand, your body betrayed you, sinking deeper into the chair. Arlecchino’s voice filled your mind, her presence wrapping around you like a shadow.

“There is no escape,” she whispered, her fingers brushing your hair back with a mockery of tenderness. “You belong to me now, little one.”

Your vision dimmed, and the last thing you saw was her smile, sharp and wicked, as darkness consumed you.

The days blurred into one another, time slipping through your fingers like water. The manor became your prison, its labyrinthine halls twisting and turning, always leading you back to her. You saw her in your dreams, in every shadow that danced along the walls. She was always there, watching, waiting.

Arlecchino was no mere vampire—she was a creature older than the ice that surrounded her home, an ancient being who had ruled these lands long before you were born. And now, she ruled over you.

Each night, she came to you, her cold hands brushing against your skin, her fangs sinking into your flesh, drawing life from you until you were nothing but a hollow shell of your former self. Yet, no matter how much she took, she always left just enough to keep you alive, to keep you bound to her.

You were hers. Forever.

And in the cold, eternal night of her manor, you knew you would never be free.

A Song for the Depths

Disclaimer: This fanfiction contains mature and dark themes such as kidnapping, obsession, and other potentially triggering content. Reader discretion is advised.

The waters were calm tonight, unusually serene for the coastal cliffs you’d visited in search of rare treasures washed up by the waves. Something felt off, but you couldn't pinpoint why. You stood alone on the shore, the salty breeze tugging at your clothes. The moon hung low, casting a silver glow across the black ocean that stretched endlessly before you.

You had heard the rumors—a siren, known for her beauty and cruelty, said to haunt these shores. Her name echoed like a whispered legend: La Signora. But you hadn't believed such stories. Not until you heard it.

A melody. Soft, beautiful, and impossible to resist.

It wrapped around you like a lover’s embrace, filling the night air with its alluring tones. You could feel it pull at your mind, a song that seemed to beckon you toward the water's edge. The sound grew louder, more intoxicating, until you found yourself stepping closer to the shimmering sea without thinking. The melody resonated deep within your chest, commanding you without words, and your feet moved of their own accord.

There, rising from the waves, was her.

She was breathtaking—tall, pale, and deadly. Her lips curled into a sharp, predatory smile as she sang, her voice the same irresistible melody that had led you here. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back like moonlight on water, and her crimson eyes glowed with a hunger that sent chills down your spine. But even in your fear, you couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop wanting her.

“Ah,” she purred, her voice now a low hum as the song faded. “I knew you’d come to me.”

You tried to move, tried to run, but your body was frozen in place. You could only watch as she emerged fully from the sea, her lithe form moving with otherworldly grace. The water seemed to cling to her skin as though even the ocean itself couldn't bear to let her go.

Her hand cupped your cheek, and you shivered beneath her touch, your breath catching as her nails lightly traced your skin. She leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear, her voice dripping with wicked delight.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you, little one?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but the words refused to come. You wanted to ask why, wanted to scream, but all you could do was stare into her eyes as her other hand trailed down your arm, her nails sharp enough to raise goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re mine now,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. “My sweet, sweet mate.”

Before you could protest, before you could even comprehend what was happening, La Signora’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you against her. The world around you spun as the ocean rose, swirling at her command. The next thing you knew, you were plunging beneath the waves, the cold water swallowing you whole.

You thrashed for a moment, panic taking over as the saltwater stung your eyes and filled your lungs. But then... you heard her voice again. Her song. It was clearer now, more powerful, echoing through the deep like a siren’s promise of eternity. The panic faded, replaced by an overwhelming sense of calm, of belonging. Her arms tightened around you as the ocean cradled you both, dragging you down into the depths.

La Signora's lips met yours underwater in a kiss that felt both tender and possessive. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim. The sensation of her sharp nails digging into your skin, even beneath the water, was as intoxicating as the melody still playing in your mind. She owned you, body and soul.

“You will love me,” her voice rang in your head, the words intertwining with her song. “You will be my perfect little mate.”

Time seemed to lose meaning as she took you deeper into her realm. Down, down into the abyss, where light barely reached. It was dark and cold, but her warmth surrounded you, her presence comforting in a way that scared you.

You were no longer just a visitor to this world—you were hers.

In the depths of her lair, where the sea creatures dared not approach, she laid you down on a bed of coral and seafoam, her sharp smile never faltering. Her gaze was one of obsession, hunger, and something that bordered on affection, though twisted in its own way.

“I will keep you safe,” she cooed, her fingers gently brushing over your trembling body. “You’ll never leave me, my little mate. Never.”

The air—what little there was—felt heavy around you, thick with the weight of her desire. Her song was all you could hear, all you could feel. It vibrated through your very bones, making you pliant under her touch. She moved closer, her body wrapping around yours like a serpent coiling around its prey.

Then, you felt it—something inside you, something warm and foreign, spreading through your core. Her sharp nails dug into your skin as her smile grew wider, more sinister. She watched you with rapt attention, her crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction as your body reacted to the strange sensation. It was almost too much, overwhelming and invasive, yet there was a twisted pleasure in it.

“You’ll bear my legacy,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost reverent. “You’ll carry my future, and you will love it. Just as you love me.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but still, you couldn’t resist. The bond between you and La Signora had been sealed the moment you heard her song. You were hers, bound to her by the depths of the sea and the curse of her obsession.

She leaned in once more, kissing your tear-streaked cheeks with almost gentle affection, a mockery of tenderness in her touch.

“Such a sweet little mate,” she whispered against your skin. “You’ll never escape me.”

Her voice was both a promise and a threat, the final words you heard before you were pulled under, deeper into her abyss, where you would remain—forever.

marriage

You can think of any character while reading this since genders are either not mentioned or are gender neutral.

Warnings: it's slight angsty

When you think of marriage you think of happy homes and loving families days and days of planning, love, but also the pressure of living with someone for the rest of your life. What if you both fall apart? What if you have a family by then, but you aren't in love with the person? What if just before marriage you realize you don't want this?

Who knows what will happen after marriage. The person you ended up loving left you right before the day you were promised will be the best day of your life. The person you adored and admired for being so brave and strong willed ended up leaving you behind.“This won't work out I'm afraid we'll have to end this” were your lovers. Oh, sorry ex-lover's words to you.

Those words were said as you were waiting for them to say their vows to you. It shocked you and clearly everyone around you words were whispered as your "lover" turned to leave and you didn't know what to do...

'Weren't weddings supposed to bring joy? Why was this everything but joyful' were your thoughts as the place fell silent as you watched everyone leave one by one after taking a glance at you.

Hi! May I request prompt #1 from hurt/comfort prompts with Scaramouche?

Of course anon!

Have a secret, can you keep it?

Warning's: yandere type themes, mentions of kidnapping, this prompt is slightly inspired by @merakiui's bitter sweet secret fan fiction!

Pronouns: gender neutral. 

Synopsis: getting blackmailed into staying in a relationship with etc character, being the perfect doll the perfect secret you have to keep it.

He scared you, splattered in red and a scent so prude that you felt like running away but you couldn't run. Your feet jammed to the floor as you watched your family get slaughtered by this merciless man who didn't care what you saw.

He then approached you and told you to come with him and you couldn't decline because you knew you would be killed too. In his eyes it didn't matter who it was and he just found you as a new doll to pick up and play with. “afraid?” he asked with a smile as you kept silent.

What were you supposed to respond with anyway? “I asked are you afraid?” his voice was more stern and strict, like he wanted an answer, so you nodded.

Laughter filled the room but it felt empty and mocking like he found this amusing, he stared at you and leaned down bringing his cold blood stained hands to your face and there was that smile of victory... No, it was the smile of a despicable man who found pleasure in your horror.

The next thing that happened was your vision being blurry; you didn't even realize he had injected something into your body while he leaned down to your helpless self and smiled. You woke up and looked around to see no one around the place felt cold and small and frankly, it reminded you of a closet.

Weirdly, the silence was comforting. Anything is comforting other than that man's voice; you shuddered at the thought of having to see him again, but he did kidnap you because this surely isn't your house.

Speaking of the devil, the door to the closet room opened and you saw him again as he smiled and leaned down “dolls shouldn't look broken right?” he asked, and you stayed silent. “you won't respond.. Oh well, I placed some clothes outside, go get ready and don't dare to try anything funny or I will make sure you never see the light of day” another sick smile from him. You wondered how many enemies he must have with such an attitude, probably near a thousand at least.

You did as told and dressed up for him; it felt like your soul was getting sucked out of you. It felt like that, that's for sure.

You felt like a doll, getting dressed up and playing out as if your family did not just get killed by this man you saw only once in your life, it felt as if this was a nightmare that you will never wake up from and that scared you. You were now his secret and he will keep you no matter what is said.

CW: Sumeru men bottoming for you headcanons w/Tighnari. NSFW, MINORS DNI, anal fingering, anal penetration, the word 'cock' is mentioned (this can be imagined as a strap), GN!reader, top reader, bottom character, pet names are used, the reader is called 'master' in some sections

Featuring: Tighnari

Tighnari

Asking Tighnari if he would bottom for you visibly sparks something in the Forest Watcher you hadn't expected. His brown-green eyes widen in an instant at the thought, his tail thumping on the bed behind him making you aware just how much he likes the idea.

"A-Anything for you.."

Now, if anyone is going to be a good boy for you, it is definitely Tighnari with his eager-to-please attitude. Maybe it's his puppy nature that has him on his knees for you in an instant, his tail swishing behind him in excitement.

It isn't long before the fox is on his back in your shared bed, his body flushed a pretty shade of scarlet and his head tipping back against the pillows. His lips part as your tongue ghosts over his nipple, a thin whine bouncing off the wall of your room as he arches his chest up toward your hot mouth.

"Y/N...don't tease me.."

Tighnari's nipples are so sensitive that even the gentle pass of your tongue over the hardened bud has him gasping for air, hands fisting in the sheets below the two of you. Even an Archon could be brought to their knees at the sound the poor boy lets out as you give an experimental suck. The Forest Watcher's chest shudders as he draws in a ragged breath, his whimpers high and needy the more attention you pay to them.

By the time you're finished lavishing his nipples with attention, Tighnari's cock is aching, the tip flushed and dripping precum onto his stomach. Brown-green eyes are full of want as your hands dip down to trail over his inner thighs and they tremble at your warm touch in anticipation.

"Please touch me already..."

Tighnari's back arches as your fingers trail up his cock, the pads of your fingers expertly rubbing over the tip and smearing the precum along the sensitive skin. His eyes flutter shut with a gasp as your hand fully encloses his shaft giving him a light squeeze before pumping fluidly, watching as he clenches his fists tighter to stop from touching you.

Sliding your free hand down, you comb your fingers through the soft fur on the Forest Watcher's tail before wrapping around it to give a gentle tug. Before either of you have a chance to blink, Tighnari is keening with a sharp jerk of his hips, trying to push his cock toward your hand in an attempt for more friction. Oh, how you loved to toy with his most sensitive parts.

"Ngh! Y/N..."

It isn't long before you have two fingers buried inside his gummy walls, prodding relentlessly at his prostate, and forcing him to cry out with every thrust of your fingers. His body is flushed a pretty red by now, tears of pleasure clouding his vision as his thighs begin to tremble under your ministrations. The pads of your fingers feel so good rubbing over that bundle of nerves that Tighnari feels as if his mind is melting as you increase the speed of your hand on his cock.

"M-Master" He hiccups, hands trying to find purchase on the bedsheets as the tight heat in his stomach coils tighter. "'M gonna c-cum!"

"Go on, Puppy, cum for me, it's alright." You hum out, head dipping to wrap your lips around the head of his cock, tongue grazing the underside just as the heat in Tighnari's stomach snaps.

The Forest Watcher lets out a garbled cry of your name, his hands desperately grabbing at your hair in an attempt to ground himself as his cock spurts into your waiting mouth. He tugs the soft strands until his orgasm is over and you finally retreat, giving him a moment to breathe after the intense pleasure.

Sleepy brown-green eyes begin to droop after only a few moments of relaxation showing just how much energy the orgasm took out of the hard-working fox. Settling down next to Tighnari, you tug him close to your body causing a tired smile to form on his lips.

"I love you, Y/N."

A light chuckle escapes your throat as you rub a hand over his bare back, pressing a kiss between his ears with a smile. "I love you too, Puppy. Now, let's get some rest before our patrol in the morning."

How Diluc kisses you

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Diluc (Diluc x reader)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: I didn’t really proof read this ahah

𝚃𝚢𝚙𝚎: Headcannons, fluff, drabble

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗/𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝: How Diluc kisses! This also includes your first kiss with him.

Diluc is very secretive when it comes to his the details of his personal life.

It is likely that he won’t show very much affection at all in public or where other people can see the two of you.

He is very reticent so his feelings for you might not be very apparent unless he lets you in on them.

Diluc kisses you like it is going to be the last time he is able to do it. They are often full of passion and heat, almost kissing you as if his life depends on it.

His hand often drifts to your chin, thumb gently running over the smooth skin there as he tilts your head up. As soon as the gap closes between your lips, his hand moves so that it is cradling your jaw instead. 

You can remember your first kiss vividly.

You often spent your days at the Dawn Winery, helping out wherever people would allow you....that and you always looked forward to poking your head into Diluc’s office. Most times the fiery-haired man was hard at work, filling out stacks of paper work that littered the messy desk. You always made sure to bring him meals, drinks, or even just popped in your head to make sure that he wasn’t in need of anything. Not that you were aware, but Diluc greatly appreciated the measures you went to in order to make sure he was content. 

It was sunset by the time Diluc finally finished with everything he had to do at the winery, however, he still held the title “The Darknight Hero”, so it wouldn’t be long before he slipped off into the night. You had finished making him his specialty dish ‘Once upon a time Mondstadt’ which was comprised of meat, potatoes, and cheese. The dish itself was fairly easy to cook, and you found yourself to be quite the master of whipping it up anytime you were craving it. You found yourself cooking it for Diluc once every month or so when he would stick around long enough to eat after he was done with his winery duties.

“Y/N.”

Diluc’s voice yanks you out of your thoughts, you had been so focused on plating the dish that you hadn’t heard the faint thumping of his boots as he approaches you. You whip your head around, glancing over your shoulder to see the darkly clothed man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. You couldn’t help the way a soft smile crept onto your face when you had laid eyes on him. 

“I made your special dish.” You give Diluc an answer before he can question what you are doing, picking up the plate with a hum. However, you don’t hand it over to him, simply walking up to your usual spot on the balcony outside his office. 

The both of you often shared meals out here, basking in the warm light provided by the setting sun while chatting idly about things like commissions or adventures you had gone on recently. Golden rays of the sun’s light were slowly sinking beyond the horizon, the clouds being bathed in a soft pink glow as the sun disappeared for the night. 

A comfortable silence drifts between the two of you as your eyes follow the sunset, the only sounds being the soft ‘whoosh’ of the wind, and the birds singing as they day comes to an end. Diluc is mainly focused on eating, red eyes shifting between his plate and you when you aren’t looking his way. As the breeze moves your hair around, you feel his eyes linger on you just a bit longer. The action makes you subconsciously turn your head to make eye contact with him, the fiery-haired male glancing away as he is caught, a bit if pink dusting his cheeks.

Cute.

It doesn’t take long for Diluc to finish eating, taking a sip of his grape juice before he comes to stand beside you at the railing of the balcony. Your eyes follow him over, hint of a smile gracing your lips as he leans against the railing, red hair being moved slightly with the wind.Your shoulder brushes up against Diluc’s making your cheeks redden at how close the man is standing beside you.

When did he get so close?

“I-” “Yo-” 

The both of you start talking at the same time, making a chuckle escape Diluc’s chest, nudging your shoulders together with a soft smile. “Go ahead.” he murmurs, voice as gentle as the breeze flowing around you both.

“I enjoy spending this time with you.” The sentence flows from your mouth smoothly before you can stop to think about it. It’s a true statement though, before you came to Mondstadt, you always felt as if something was missing, this lead you to always keep up your travelling in search of something that made you feel complete. 

Diluc is aware of how much you traveled before you came across Mondstadt, the thought that he was the reason you have stayed for so long made his heart flutter dangerously in his chest. As soon as the words left your mouth, you both turned to gaze at the other. Diluc’s red eyes gaze so intently into yours and you feel all the air leave your lungs as you scan over his face in question.

Your hearts begins to hammer in your chest as the darkly clothed man leans closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he moves his hand to cup your jaw. His touch is gentle, as if you’re made of the most fragile glass that would crack if he grips you too hard. The warmth of his palm licked at your skin like gentle flames making your cheeks grow scarlet in color. Diluc has known that he has liked you for weeks now, he had come to the realization after the two of you had a rather personal conversation on this very balcony under the light of the sunset. 

It isn’t long before Diluc closes the gap between your lips, your eyes slipping closed as you press closer to him. His hand, warm due to the vision he is in possession of, trails to your neck so he can pull you in closer to the kiss. His own heart is racing as if he hadn’t dreamed of doing this since the first time he realized he had feelings for you. 

When the kiss breaks your breath is coming out in little puffs, face as red as Diluc’s hair as he gaze up at the beautiful man in front of you. After only a few moments of looking at each other, a smile breaks out across the man’s face and he returns his hand to your jaw, thumb idly runnng over the soft skin. 

“Oh, how I have waited to do that...”

flower crown anon back at it again!! the response to my request was so cute... ty for writing it!! if you arent sick of me (or flowers) would it be alright to request a gn reader taking a worn-out albedo out to a flower field to rest...? maybe they say that it heals their mind hehe -- totally cool if not tho! omg this is so long-winded sorry lol

rest up, buttercup [albedo scenario]

s/o takes a tired albedo to a flower field! how will our chief alchemist react to such sweetness?

tw: none, fluffy content

albedo x gn! reader

a/n: hello again flower nonnie! ofc i'm not sick of flowers and/or you >:^^^ enjoy this long overdue scenario!💞

not proof read

a knock on the door jolts a very exhausted chief alchemist, he sighs and doesn't bother to turn around to face who he thought entered the door. "have you finished the reports, timaeus?" he rubs his temples in a sluggish manner, wincing at the migraine slowly settling in.

"hm, i didn't know 'timaeus' was an endearment, honey." you laugh. at the sound of your giggles, albedo pulls away from his hand and smiles drowsily.

wordlessly, he gets up from his desk and finds his way to you. you stick your tongue out at him as a playful gesture and he grins at this. gently, he engulfs you in a warm embrace, slightly groaning in sight discomfort when he feels a sharp pain shoot through his head. "i'm exhausted," albedo kisses your jaw.

"which is why i'm here!" you huff excitingly. your partner hums, "oh?" you're here to comfort him? you nod and kiss his forehead and he sighs in content. "i'll take that stress from your workload and throw it to the other side of teyvat." you joke, half wishing you really could.

"what do you have in mind, love?" he asks, meeting your eyes as he pulls away from your shoulder.

"follow me, honey. it'll be worth it."

and that's how you got him to lay his head on your lap, his loving gaze never faltering as he stares into yours. albedo relishes in the way you thread your fingers through his locks, "seems as though you were right, y/n." you raise an eyebrow, "right about what exactly?"

"right about throwing my stress to the other side of teyvat." you laugh at this and he chuckles as well. he feels his heart rate quicken at the sight of your broght demeanor, feeling the fluttering of his insides when you plant a kiss on his cheek.

"my, how bashful you can get at times." you tease. failing to hide his red cheeks, the alchemist decides to humor you instead.

"only you can make me feel this way, my love."

snug and warm [xiao scenario]

snuggles and cuddles with xiao featuring you as his beloved!

tw: none, fluff

xiao x gn! reader

a/n: to make up for my last xiao post lol im on mobile bc my pc's not working ;-;

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

not proof read

it was rainy, showers that ranged from light to heavy spreading throughout the day

wangshu inn really needs to fix their heating machines

you were freezing, the weather didn't only affect those stuck outside, but stuck inside as well

"achoo!" and here you were, catching the world's worst cold in a while

reaching out from your blanket, you grabbed another tissue to wipe your nose

you would have gotten up and made yourself some tea but it's way too cold for you to step out of your blankets, you wouldn't last a minute

sighing, you laid back down

and as it seems that celestia heard and adhered to your every need, the door opened and in someone went

"what happened to you?" xiao asks as he eyes you from your room's door

"take a wild guess, dearest." you sniffed

"heavens, you really ought to take better care of yourself–i'm not always here to lend a hand." he let out a 'tsk' while he takes a teabag and mug

you laugh at his remark. ironically enough, he always was there to lend a helping hand

he sets the cup of tea beside your table and you thank him

"if that is all, i have to get going." he turns to leave

"wait-" you call out to him but he already vanishes. you sigh, oh well

after a cup of warm tea to calm your cold, you take a much needed nap

nighttime rolls around and you stir in your sleep

only to feel a force behind you wrap its limbs to keep you still

"huh-" you cut yourself off with a smile unconsciously growing on your face

turning around slowly, you face your xiao, his face relaxed in deep sleep, or so you thought

stroking his cheek softly, you smiled at his otherworldly features

gods, he really is perfect

while admiring him, xiao opens his eyes and stares at yours drowsily

"oh, xiao. sorry for waking you," you apologize and he responds by pulling you closer

"don't move away.." he mumbles and buries his head into the crook of your neck, giving you a little kiss there which happily surprises you

"i won't, go back to sleep, honey." you answer and run your hands through his hair

he sighs into your neck and gives you another kiss before drifting off

morning comes by and this time, xiao awakes first

he stares at you for a while (which you would've held against him if you were conscious) before pressing small circles on your side

xiao slowly reaches out to your face and strokes it gently, taking in your beauty

to him, nothing else can rival the luminosity of your smile, not even the lanterns that decorated the night sky this lantern rite

damn, did he love you

pressing a kiss to your forehead, he pulls back to see your eyes fluttering open

"..good morning, xiao." you smile

he sure loves it when you call his name. sure, his heart melts a little when you call him all these endearments but hearing his name from you sounds like a beautiful melody he can't get enough of

he, uncharacteristically, smiles back, "good morning, y/n."

you can do it! [albedo, kaeya, childe, zhongli and diluc]

s/o has been going through a depressive episode and lacks motivation to finish their work and is getting anxiety because of it

tw: none, mentions of depression/anxiety, nothing too much. fluffy comfort <3

albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader, zhongli x gn!reader, diluc x gn!reader

a/n: self indulgent bc i'm way behind school and in the middle of a depressive episode so motivation's been lacking ;-; hope you guys are having a good week tho!

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

albedo

oh? unmotivated you say.. self depricating thoughts? intrusive ones too?

albedo was never one to mope around when he was stuck on some problem he's yet to puzzle together, but seeing you exhausted, anxious and so... dull–he desperately wants to take all your worries away

he's a bit slow, failing to realize your depressive episode for a few days. as it prolongs, he notices how you seem to talk down to yourself and give up easily

sometimes, you don't even start work at all

this is due to your anxiety, he assumes as you think you're incapable of finishing or doing the work satisfactorily enough.

pulling you into an embrace from behind as you work on the projects you've been stuck on for the past few weeks, he gently whispers into your shoulder

"darling, have you been alright recently? are you in need of assistance?" he asks

he presses a loving kiss on your neck and you stifle a chuckle

"it's that apparent, no? i've been under the weather for quite a while now.."

as you explain your reasons and all your troubles to his end, he nods and hums ever so often

"you must be feeling drained, hm? well, frankly enough, i seem to need a break myself."

"eh? albedo where-!!”

he pulls you away from your working place and carries you to the couch, laying you down gently as he smiles at you

"aside from your unmotivated self, i reckon you need reassurance for those intrusive thoughts of yours."

and that, ladies, gentlemen and folks, is how you end up cuddling with albedo until the sun sets and you fall asleep

bask in the comfort of his words as he calls you his everything and more :')) <333

kaeya

my, oh my. what's gotten into his precious little love?

he's sharp, quite easily takes notice to your frantic and dim self.

he sees you sitting outside, head in your hands and sighs leaving your lips every now and then

unbeknownst to you, he creeps behind you and presses a careful peck on the nape of your neck, causing you to flinch and look back quickly

he was about to laugh at your cuteness, but as soon as he's reminded of your troubled state, he sits beside you and takes your face into his hands

sir we're in the plaza-

"oh archons, why is my sunshine so dim these days?" he pouts

rip u probably after this

"kaeya.. well, you see-"

and as you explain your current doubts and anxieties, he strokes your cheeks softly and looks into your eyes fondly

when you're finished, he nods and presses a light kiss on your forehead, a silent promise to accompany and help you on your endeavors to face your troubles

"i'll always be here for you, my love. if there's anything i can help you with, do not hesitate to come into my arms, hm?"

"noted, mr. suave"

jkjk o r a m i

he laughs and kisses you on the edge of your mouth

"what say you we head into the tavern for a bit? you could use some relaxation, right?"

as if you had a choice other than to say yes

childe

this man would know the second it started

having a bunch of siblings has its benefits huh

when he walks into your shared room and sees you on the edge, tears brimming your eyes he sits you down on your bed

"hey, hey.. i'm here, it's alright."

as you cry in his embrace, he rocks you gently, shushing you softly in an attempt to hinder your tears

"you can tell me if you're up for it, honey. i'm never too busy for you."

"i-it's just that-"

mhm. oh? why, how dare they treat you so harshly. really? why must you have to be burdened so heavily?

he acknowledges your struggles and worries with gentle strokes and brushing through your hair

"you have it really rough, don't you? ah well, nothing we can do but-"

"childe?"

he stands up and leaves the room for a second

he comes back with food, drinks, your favorite clothing of his, a scented candle you bought and some books you have yet to finish reading

the action warms your heart as you sniffle and smile at your lover

as soon as he lays down with you, prepare to never see daylight again as he won't let go for the longest, and i mean longest time ever

"i love you, y/n. you're strong and don't let anything, not even yourself, make you think otherwise."

zhongli

dearest, must life be so unfair to you? why you out of all people?

zhongli is wise–he knows something is bothering you when it does. that being said, he isn't sure whether or not he should approach you so directly

especially if it seems like a sensitive topic

instead, in your depressive state and anxious fiddling, he calls you over to him

he pulls you into his lap as he takes your face into his hand and kisses you tenderly

"my dear, has anything been bothering you? might i offer my hand in dealing with them?"

you'd think kaeya's mr. suave then this man pops up with his broke ass

"as a matter of fact.."

as you go on and state your dealings and troubles, he listens with an almost solemn look

he looks at you with utmost affection and concern when you finish

"the terrains of life have been steep and intimidating, you have been very commendable for braving through these, my dearest."

he places his lips onto your own and strokes the back of your head lovingly

for a reserved man, zhongli easily expresses his affection for you in multitudes of ways

his kisses being one of them

after parting your lips, he peppers your face with his kisses and you laugh quietly at his ministrations

"might i suggest a quick stroll to take your mind off things?"

you agree, thinking that once you head home, you'll be back to work with a clearer mind

little did you know mr. no money in his pockets got a liiiittle surprise for you as you won't be returning to your work any time soon :DDDD

by 'surprise' i mean he's taking you out to dinner

yall nasties

diluc

diluc is a busy man, dealing with a winery and all

along with his night profession (which he has only admitted to you and the traveling duo)

you did your best to hide your troubled self and aid him in his work, but you can only hold the facade for so long before it eats you up inside

when you break, he is slightly taken aback but is quick to comfort you

he sees you shaking and situates you on his couch as he sits beside you, rubbing your back as you curl into his figure

he's very warm

"sweetheart, would you mind telling me the problem?" he asks

he waits for an answer as you're still trying to find the words

"diluc, i'm sorry for bothering you.. i know you have plenty on your schedule and-”

"y/n, you're my top priority, no matter what. my work is nothing compared to what you mean to me."

and it's true, you're really his top priority

woohoo !! :DD

when you explain your anxieties and doubts to diluc, he's very understanding and listens to you earnestly

"-and that's why i've been so.. down, let's put it."

he strokes your face and presses his forehead to your own, looking you in the eye softly

he pulls you in tighter and closer, pressing kisses to your jawline and below your ear

"thank you for expressing your troubles with me, my love. i'm sorry for not noticing earlier."

"no need, love, you're very busy and i can't thank you enough for taking the time to understand me."

he pulls away for a second and shakes his head

"again, my work is nothing compared to you. i am willing to put aside all my responsibilities for a week in order to ensure your happiness."

uh wh a t

"ah," you laugh concerned, "sure–"

"which is what we're going to be doing this week." he smiles

welp. no turning back now

enjoy ur week with the redhead you utter s i m p

⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Hold no shame

 ୨ serving size ୧ ˊ˗ 0.4k

˗ˋ ୨ nutritional facts ୧ ˊ˗ asexual,insecure,Gn!reader slight hurt comfort, fluff

˗ˋ ୨ allergy warning ୧ ˊ- insecurity & slight queerphobia 

˗ˋ ୨ Content ୧ ˊ˗ kaeya ❝cavalry captain❞

˗ˋ ୨ formula ୧ ˊ˗ headcanons

˚୨ enjoy your drink!୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

❝🌈Master list❞ 

❝ Stari Cafe™. I had so much fun writing this, thank 4 the request, late happy new years!^^ - stari ❞

♯݊↯ Kaeya is known to be quite a bold man at the least, always teasing people everywhere he goes but If that's not what you like further more if it makes you uncomfortable he immediately stops the man's a flirt not ass hole.

♯݊↯ He knows what asexuality it on a surface level never really looked too deep into it since isn't one about labels. When he finds out about you being ace he won't ask any questions, you are y/n and will always have his full acceptance!

♯݊↯ Assuming he knew about your asexuality,he would still tease you about things but obviously not in a sexual way you being  comfortable and safe is way more important than some act he puts on for the public eye.

♯݊↯ As soon and I mean as soon as he even has a hunch that your insecure about your asexuality he comforts you and does as much as he can to help you! Not in a smothering manner he knows his limits and boundaries! "Dear there's nothing wrong about you, you're perfectly fine. If anyone tells you otherwise just let me know,ok?"

♯݊↯Someone makes fun of you for your sexuality? Now that just can not do! First off all how dumb does someone have to be to make fun of the cavalry captains lover? The answer is pretty dumb.

"Asexuality isn't even a thing!"

"How about you shut your trap and pay for your drink, I'm sure everyone would love that!"

♯݊↯ never takes you to angle share, not because he doesn't think you can't protect yourself or because he doesn't like your company he'd just rather you not go there. Especially in the late hours there people there who know not a thing about boundaries and kaeya would never want you to experience such sights.

♯݊↯ he's very thankful that he won't have to keep up the whole flirty pretty boy act, it gets tiering sometimes. He's glad he can just be himself around, that he can just rest around you.

Overall he's very chill about it and respects your boundaries and everything!

Disgusting.

˗ˋ ୨ serving size ୧ ˊ˗ 0.8 k

˗ˋ ୨ nutritional facts ୧ ˊ˗ afab!reader… gn!reader … mean!albedo

˗ˋ ୨ allergy warning ୧ ˊ- Nicknames ʚbitch in heat,pain slut, lovelyɞ, slight breeding kink, fingering,degradation, gaslighting, object insertion,self-degradation, pwp,pure smut, lots of use of the word disgusting

˗ˋ ୨ Content ୧ ˊ˗ albedo ❝kreideprinz❞

˗ˋ ୨ formula ୧ ˊ˗ one-shot

˚୨ enjoy your drink!୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

❝🍰Master list❞ 

❝ Stari Cafe™. warning the following drinks are not to be consumed by anyone under the age of 14, drink responsibly, - stari ❞

   ʚAlbedo, he was the only thing you could think of right now, the urge to let him fuck you stupid was unbearable. You looked so pathetic, you knew it, he knew it, and god did you get off to it so fucking much. I mean really you’re getting off to being fucked by his paintbrush, your getting off to defiling his belongings with your fluids,stuffed and fucked with hand crafted wood, but the feeling of having your hole stuffed was so amazing. Having your vision blurred with not a thought in that pathetic little head of yours was everything that you ever wanted.

“messing up all my hard work huh? You just had to be bred right at this moment while I was painting such a lovely portrait of you, now you're here bent over my working space showing how much of a bitch in heat you really are.”

   Any answer would lead to the same outcome, and even if you answered every word would just come out in a jumble that could be considered a sentence. You had tears streaming down your face,streaming down your cheeks such a pathetic look on your face.The feeling of his paintbrush fucking you made your cunt clench even more only causing more friction any more and you spit right in half, it was too much,all too much but it felt amazing to have your body be used as nothing but a fuck toy for him,to have your holes stretched and defiled by him, it felt so fucking good. 

   Maybe because of the rough wood pounding your walls or maybe bedo’s assertive tone,everything was a blur, not a single thought could form in your head.

“You know, you really are a little pain slut aren’t you?”

  No answer, that’s all you could give right now maybe he would show a little mercy to you since he’s stuffing your hole so nice and good but no the throbbing feeling of pleasure would stop as the palm of his went around your neck, the more you should no signs of answering the tighter his grip got.

“ Look I know you're too busy whoring yourself out over my paintbrush, but i'm waiting on an answer.”

“A- ah yes albe- bedo, I’m your fu- fucking painslut! Ple- please use my filthy hole!”

“There we go, finally fucked some sense back into you lovely.”

Albedo's position of toppling over your body swiftly changes to being under you still violently thrusting the paintbrush in and out of your cunt.

"Spread yourself."

" i- h.. huh?"

"You heard me,spread yourself."

You heard him for sure but the sharp tone mixed with his shameless face distracted you a bit. How were you supposed to function when this man was pounding you? 

"God, I have to do everything my fucking self."

Quickly putting his ice cold fingers on your cunt and spreading them apart, seeing slimy strings of your lust drip from your cunt to his finger as if it were to drip right off the desk.

"You have no shame, honestly it's actually disgusting. You really get off to being treated like a fuckdoll huh?"

"A- aH fuck.. n- no!"

"No? Then what's this." 

Gliding his index finger threw your abused cunt having a slick glob of glistening liquid on his fingers now pulling them apart, demonstrating your string of fluids now running down his hands.

"No answer? That's fine I know something that would make a slut like yourself start speaking." 

Giving you near to no time to adjust and gripping your thighs pulling you closer to him, throwing the paint brush aside and inserting his ice cold fingers into your cunt. Albedo was right, you were a pain slut,you loved the feeling of having your cunt split in half, you loved the way he gave you zero time to adjust to the length of his fingers as if you were nothing but a plaything to him just to be discarded after he's had his way with you. The tightening feeling in your cunt wouldn't stop any time soon in fact it only got tighter.

"Bedo.. m' g- gonna cum A..Ah'!"

"On my desk really?Disgusting."

You can't take it anymore. His words said with such a soft voice but with such sharp meanings, his notes were on the floor and all because you couldn't control yourself over a little fingering? Disgusting.

Grocery shopping with albedo

pairing — albedo x Gn!reader

Word count — 1.1k

Summary — in the caption + modern AU + gn!reader with bad memory + established realtionship

Cw — none :))

Genre — fluff

m.masterlist

Now playing — my kind of woman - mac demarco

“I’m outside do you have everything?”

a soft notification came from your phone as you saw the text from albedo, he’s stated that he was outside your residence, better get a move on!

While you stroll down your stairs checking over if you're missing anything due to your forgetful memory, it really was a pain in the ass sometimes do you know how many trips back you had to take because you forgot something, because of that albedo developed a habit of coming with you on certain trips. well, no time to waste, sliding open the car door and taking a seat.

“Do you have everything?”

“Yes I made sure!”

“Even your credit card?”

“Shit. lemme get i-”

“No need, I was planning on paying anyway.”

“No wait, don’t tell me I forgot something important again, is it my birthday?’”

“Ahah, no it’s not your birthday, I simply just want to pay. There’s no problem is there?”

“No, not at all.”

“Great.”

The slightest smile appeared on his face, he’s the sweetest thing ever. You swear this man has no idea how much you adore him not to mention how happy he made you. His smile, his eyes down to his everything there wasn’t a thing about this man that wasn’t absolutely breathtaking. You dared to say it even the way this man looks at you was utter perfection. How he made you feel like or why you even feel like this is all a blur but you assume it to be this thing called love. Your in love, you’re in love with him.

“[name] are you ok? You’ve been staring for quite a while.”

“Nothing, it’s just you.”

“Me?”

“Yes you! Your face, your eyes everything it’s nice to just look at you.”

“I’m unaware of where that came from but thank you, I take your compliments quite dearly.”

A nice moment between both of you, you wish things could stay like this forever. It’s peaceful you like it. Not to fear though you knew somehow this wouldn’t be the end of these comforting domestic moments but it would be the end of this one seeing as you were at your destination.

“Were here.”

“I can see that I have a bad memory, not eyesight.”

“I was just checking. You never know, one day I might have to drag you to the ophthalmologist.”

“ oh please if anyone here needs glasses it’s you!”

“I’ve checked multiple times before and my vision is at an optimal standard.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night!”

Asideing the married couple bickering you two had just gone through, you stepped out of the car looking over the list but you feel something dripping on your head a liquid like substance falling on your head.

“bedo it’s raining!”

“I’m well aware, do you believe me when I say you need glasses now?”

“Nope, not at all!”

“What is my explanation not good enough for you?”

“I just don’t need glasses, we should go inside instead of standing here like weirdos”

“As you say”

Walsting over to the grocery store albedo hands you his umbrella, you didn’t say anything just giving him a soft smile in appreciation, times like this were wonderful love without interruption is such a blissful feeling and you were even more ecstatic about the fact that you were doing this with him. The clashing and rolling of the carts didn’t bother you at all it was a familiar sound Mabey even a comforting one, was it, or maybe everything like a daydream, when bedo, ’s around.

“Now that we’re here do you have the list?”

“Mhm just like you said!”

“Lovely.”

A long 34 minutes of asking albedo if you could get stuff but who was he to deny you and honestly he doesn’t mind doing this with you, maybe he even likes doing arbitrary things with you, albedo loving something other than Klee and science now that was unheard of! I mean until he met you, who knew the scientist would be in love with such random domestic activity certainly not him, but yet still these small moments with you meant everything to him.

“Albedo what do you think of eggos waffles?”

“Eggo what?”

“Eggo waffles! They’re basically just waffles.”

“If you like them we can get them.”

Walking back over to the self-serve cashier machine laying out all the stuff you bought which to a while since you had quite a bit of stuff in your cart.

“That will be $462.54!~”

Looking at the alarmingly large number on the screen you lifted your hand to grab some stuff from the shopping cart.

“Sorry bedo ill put this ba-”

A fell a sudden pressure on your wrist stops you from picking up any more items.

“What are you doing I said id pay remember?”

“Well yes I remember that’s quite a lot of money especially since non of this stuff is specifically for you”

‘Yes, it’s not for me because this is your shopping trip.”

“Will you let me pay you back after?”

“No.”

After those words, you heard a beep and a robotic voice.

“Your purchase is completed thank you for shopping!~”

“Albedo!”

“But you said you’d let me pay?”

“Yeah, not 400 usd!”

“Well, it’s not like we can reverse it now how about I drive you back now.”

‘We’re leaving already? But the air feels so cool!”

“If you want an air conditioner I can bu-”

“Nope! No more spending lets go”

Walking back over into the rain with bags and finally settling into the car. a peaceful drive home even though you and albedo go back and forth it was never serious, just another thing to love about him. The street light flashing buy as you pace by the night sky has never looked better you see things start to slow down as the street become more familiar oh you were home!

Both stepping out of the car albedo offered to help you with packing out the stuff seeing as to the sheer amount of them. carrying on with some nice meaningless conversations that you still valued all because they were with him, and he thought the same about albedo was not the talkative time talking with you was something he quite enjoyed.

“Ok that's about it, I hope you got everything you wanted”

“I did, thank you bedo I couldn’t express it enough.”

“A thank will be fine, ill be on my way now get some sleep ok [name].”

“You to albedo! By the way.”

He stopped in his tracks herring your words, a bit brought back by you holding his face so dearly and closely bringing him in for a kiss

“I love you!”

“I love you too [name].”

He cant wait for more moments with you especially ones like these.

A.n — just some bedo fluff for yall since I have a lot of angst plans>:)

✧…Please Don’t Be in Love with Someone Else : Genshin Impact : Modern AU

warnings // none!

summary // trends are fun, and it’s funny to see how your lover reacts to your silly antics.

featuring // aether, kaeya, razor, xingqui, bennett, chongyun, diluc, venti, childe, zhongli, albedo, xiao, kazuha, tohma, scaramouche, gorou, itto, ayato, dainleif

requested by // anonymous

Hii may I request how the genshin boys would react to their s/o doing the “please don’t be in love with someone else” TikTok trend? Let’s just pretend teyvat has titkok hehe. Feel free to ignore this if it’s too much <33

notes // helloooo i hope you don’t mind the format i decided to use for this and i did the more happy / funny kind of reaction to it? i tried to include as many of them as i could! if you want the more angsty version, i’d be down to make it too! anyway, for my non-tiktok peeps, here is context, i just borrowed a random video, and keep in mind that there are versions where they turn on the shower and wear like fancy clothes for dramatic effect :) sadly the video i had in mind is buried under too many favorited vids ehe

i tried including as many as i could! itto characterization is still unsteady since i just borrowed it from leaked lines from tiktok THAT I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE ARE REAL 😭

masterlists // genshin impact + tokyo revengers + haikyuu

✧ rules and guidelines ✧

✧ like // comment // reblog if you enjoyed! ✧

Keep reading

✧…Listen When I Talk : Genshin Impact

warnings // none!

summary // why he just loves listening to your voice.

featuring // Xiao, Childe, Zhongli, Albedo, Tohma, Diluc, Kaeya, Dainsleif, Aether

masterlists // genshin impact + tokyo revengers + haikyuu

✧ rules and guidelines ✧

✧ like // comment // reblog if you enjoyed! ✧

Keep reading

Holiday Special in Liyue

This was written for 2020 Christmas and decided to wait to upload it here. Be warned that characters revealed/released after December 2020 will not show up here.

Not a oneshot. Platonic!

Characters: Baizhu, Childe, Chongyun, Ganyu, Keqing, Ningguang Qiqi, Xianling, Xiao, Xingqui, Xinyan, Zhongli.

You are the traveller.

Spoiler alert: If you have not finished Farewell, Archaic Lord, I suggest you to not read this until you have done so.

Word count: 4.2k

---

The prosperous Liyue Harbor had gone for far too long with sunshine and warmth, so when the cold air of Snezhnaya decided to blow with greater extent, the people immediately seek warmth in buildings and bundling themselves with layers of clothing.

"Wow..! It's snowing in Liyue?" Paimon looks out the window of the room you were staying in, staring at the snow that fell slowly to the ground, amaze at the sight of it. "Well, it is that festive season around Teyvat," you said, smiling at the sight of your companion being so excited at such a small thing. The first snow falling was indeed a sight to see for everyone to get so hyped for the oncoming day that they were most looking forward to- the holidays.

"Oh, we should start looking for gifts, Paimon," you say, counting down the days left. "Ooh! Is it for Paimon?" Paimon asks, turning to look at you with her star-filled eyes. You laughed and shook your head. "You'll have your present too, but I'm talking about giving gifts to our friends."

"Ooh, it's fun giving gifts!" Paimon nods excitedly. You walked over to the desk in the room, pulling out a notepad and pen from its drawer. "Well, any idea what we could buy then?" You looked at your companion. "Food! If Paimon likes food, so will they," she answers. You shook your head with a smile, dismissing her idea and went to decide the gifts yourself, which took a lot of thinking to do and once you were done thinking for Zhongli's- the last person on the list- you and Paimon headed outside.

"Paimon doesn't get it, can't you just pick whatever looks expensive and give it as a gift?" Paimons hovers beside you, watching as you crouch on the sands and pick up shells. The first gift you were picking up was for Childe. He hasn't left Liyue just yet, saying that he wants to loiter around a bit before you two part for a good amount of time.

You shook your head. "Giving a gift to someone must be from the bottom of your heart to truly be special," you say, picking up a beautiful starconch shell that you think that Childe might like. "Hmph, but why that man? He's a Harbinger," Paimon states, which was something you couldn't argue so you just shrug and stood up, a beautiful shell in hand. "That's one thing down. Now, let's go to the market-- a lot of the items could be found there." And indeed were there the many things you were looking for, each gift different from the last.

"Hm? Hey, why if it isn't (Y/N)." Just ahead, in the middle of the streets, was the brunette whom you had fought not long ago. "You guys shopping?" He looks at the bags your were holding curiously, trying to get a peek inside one of them. "A, ah..!" You look towards Paimon who immediately shoved the gifts inside her infinity backpack, Childe staring quizzically at your hasty action. "Yeah, just grocery shopping," you said, partially lying since you did went and buy food for Paimon.

You gulped, seeing as his eyes revealed skepticism, but was relieved when he didn't push on. "Ah, anyway, it's a good thing that I bumped into you, actually," he says, "I was hoping to invite you to dinner for the holiday-- with Mr. Zhongli, of course."

"Hey, what about Paimon!?" Paimon asks, a bit offended at her disregard of presence. "Ah, of course you too, Paimon. I'd figured that if (Y/N) agrees, you'll come along." With that being said, Paimon agrees in your stead, so that you didn't have a say. "I'm glad to hear that. Then, I'll see you quite soon." He waves and disappears into the crowd.

You turn to look at Paimon. "I thought you didn't like Childe," you state, to which your little companion shrugs and giggles awkwardly. She just wanted the free food from the expensive restaurant that was hard for ordinary folks to get in.

And so, when the first snow on that day fell, you two were already up and ready. "Who should we go to first?" Paimon asks, to which you ponder for a quick second before answering, "To Bubu Pharmacy."

Upon arriving, you didn't see anyone at the front counter, but you know all too well by now that there is. "Hello, Qiqi." You walk closer, leaning over the counter to see the little zombie-child. "(Y/N), you are here," she says softly, cranking her head up to look at you and Paimon.

"Heya, Qiqi! What are you doing?" Paimon asks, seeing herbs beside her on the ground. Qiqi notices where she was looking and said, "Oh, Qiqi was arranging these before Dr. Baizhu comes back, but Qiqi can't reach the higher drawers." At the sight of the pouting child, you and Paimon felt pity. "Awe, Qiqi, don't worry. We'll help you," Paimon says, but when she said 'we' she meant you.

Atfter putting the herbs into their proper cabinet, Qiqi thanked you for your help. "Oh? Well, if it isn't (Y/N). Do you need anything? I doubt you came here to play with little Qiqi." Baizhu enters from the front, a warm smile on his face. You greeted the man and suddenly remembered that you came to the pharmacy with a purpose. "Oh? A present?" Baizhu repeats, seeing Paimon take two boxes from her bag. Humming, you nod and hand one of the present over to the doctor-- the one which was larger of the two.

"Would it be alright to open it now?" he asks, eyeing the box in excitement. You nodded. "Be my guess." Hearing this, Baizhu did not wait a second too long and opened it. In it, contained herbs of all sorts across Teyvat, all in their own mini boxes. You had heard of his incurable illness, and wanting to help him find the medicine, you bought many and all sorts of herbs. "Oh my, thank you, (Y/N)." The look in his eyes clearly showed warmth and love. He truly loved the present.

"You're welcome. I hope you like the things I put in there." You smiled and then knelt to the same level as Qiqi. "And this one is for you. I'm sure you'll love it." Qiqi reaches her small hands and took the gift silently and open it. Looking at what was inside, Qiqi gasps and stares up at you. "Coconut milk?" she asks and you nod. Qiqi carefully places the box and wrap her arms around your neck, saying a 'thank you'. You hug her small frame in return and the two of you soon separate. Qiqi went ahead and went to the back to open her drink, leaving you and Baizhu, him thanking you once more.

"Enjoy your holiday," Baizhu bids, seeing you walk down the long set of stairs and disappearing amongst the crowds. The next place you planned on going to was the office occupied by the Qixing. It wasn't as grand as the Jade Chamber that met its end, but regardless, it was still fancy, seeing as this was in Liyue after all.

When you opened the door, you were immediately pushed to the ground-- though not on purpose. "Ah, my apologies. I wasn't looking where I was going." It was an assistant working for the Qixing, and by the looks of her state and those within the building, you could tell that she was stressed.

"Oh, it's no big deal. Here, let's help you." You picked up a file of papers along with the female and stood up, giving her her papers. "Thank you. I'm sorry, but I must be off." She hastily leaves you on the spot, not giving you time to say anything.

"Wow, Lady Ningguang doesn't even rest on holidays," Paimon says, seeing that there was much chaos in the building. Walking further into the building, you met a familiar face, looking quite distressed. "Ganyu!" You called, drawing her to a halt midway and turning to you and Paimon. "Ah, (Y/N), what are you doing here?" she asks, setting down a brown box thag she was carrying onto a nearby table.

"It looks like you guys are quite busy, so I'll make it short. I wanted to give you guys a gift for Christmas," you say and handed her a box, to which she looks to you before taking it. "A gift? Ah, you didn't need to go to such lengths for me," she shyly says, scratching her cheek. You smiled at the adeptus. "You're my friend. Of course, I won't forget about you," you said, earning a smile from her.

"Then, I'm assuming you want to see Lady Ningguang as well?" she asks and you nod. "Well, I can take you to her, but I'm not quite sure if she would be free to have a conversation with you."

"That's fine. I didn't plan to stay long and keep her from her work," you state. Ganyu nods her head and leads you to her office where you both see her behind the desk, eyes glued on a sheet of paper. "Lady Ningguang." Ganyu lightly taps on the door's frame with her knuckles. "Someone would like to see you."

The Tianquan looks up and sees you. "Ah, (Y/N), what brings you here? It is quite nice to see you, but I'm afraid it isn't quite the appropriate time to sit down and have tea." She stands up from her seat and walks around, her stature hovering yours. Ganyu excuses herself and returns to her work. "Um, why don't you and Paimon sit down first?" She ushers the two of you to a cushioned chair as she took the one opposite of yours.

"Forgive me for my rudeness as I don't quite have the things to brew you tea and give you a snack," she says. You shook your head. "No, it's alright. We didn't plan to keep you away from your work for too long," you say. "I noticed how you don't have a lot of assistants today, although you seem to be quite busy."

"Ah, yes, I have sent home the majority of them, seeing as it is Christmas. Those who are in the building right now, do so of their own volition. It is much appreciated," she states, staring out of the open door to see one of her assistants running past the door. "Wait, so, if no one decided to help you, you would still be here doing work?"

She turns to you and smiled. "Of course. There are many things to do since the incident with a past god that if I take a break, I'm afraid that I might have more work to do," she said, seeing your face turn to disbelief. Lady Ningguang is truly one of a kind. She chuckles. "Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Anyway, what did you come here for?"

"Right! I came to give you a gift.." You took out a small, rectangular box that was beautifully wrapped and adorned with a ribbon. "Hm, for me?" She kindly takes the present and stares at it and then to you, who smiled excitedly. "May I?" she asks and you nodded. It was a two-set jaded hairpin of a dragon and pheonix. She was in awe of the present, showing you her sincere love for the gift. You admit, it was quite expensive-- the most expensive gift on your list. It hurt your wallet and soul, but upon seeing her reaction, it made you feel a little better and felt as if it was totally worth it.

"Thank you, (Y/N). I wish to give you something in return--" You cut her off, putting a hand up and shaking your head. "I didn't give you a gift and expect you would give one back," you said and smile. "I'm happy that you like them." You chatted a bit as to not make it seem a bit rude that you were there to just drop off and leave before getting up and leaving the building.

"(Y/N)?" Drawing yours and Paimon's attention to your right, you see the Yuheng of the Qixing. "What were you doing inside the office?" The female draws closer, much relaxed than when the 'death' of Rex Lapis took place.

"Keqing, I was going to look for you just now!" you greet. "Looking for me?" she repeats and you nodded. "I was going to give you a gift, but you weren't inside." You handed her a small, purple box with a single ribbon wrapping it. The girl stare at the box on surprise and looks up at you. "I don't recall ever doing anything that might make you want to give me a gift," she trailed.

You shook your head. "It's a Christmas gift," you said. "Ah, Christmas.. Yes, thank you. Although, you could just have left it to Ganyu to deliver it to me," she states. "But it wouldn't feel more meaningful if I were to do that," you said, smiling. The Yuheng smiles and thanks you once more and waved you off as you went to look for the others, going to the food street that you know one of them is bound to be at.

"Xianling, hey!" The sudden call of her name draws the little chef  to your direction. "Ah, (Y/N)!" She smiles, seeing you and Paimon draw close. "Oh? (Y/N) is here?" Another voice steps in, bringing your attention to one of the tables.

Placing the book that covered the other person's face, they greeted you with a smile. "Xingqui! And Chongyun?" You look to the side of the male and see that his dear friend was also there, greeting you with a quick 'hello'.

"Xiangling had just recently added a new menu for the holiday, so why don't the two of you come and sit down? It'll be my treat," Xingqui gestures to the two remaining seats. "Ooh, yay!" Paimon floats over to one of them, excited for the free meal.

You shook your head, smiling, and joined the three at the table. "Xiangling, I'd like to order two more of what we ordered just now," Xingqui says to the female and she nods. "You got it!" she says and dashes off to the kitchen.

"What are the two of you doing here? I doubt you came seeking for food." Xingqui turns his head away from the disappearing chef and to you. "We actually wanted to give Xiangling a present. And since that the two of you are here, it makes things easier for me since I was about to look for you guys after," you admit, drawing a curious gaze from the two, young males.

"Oh? You've gotten us presents as well? How sweet of you," Xingqui compliments, giving a close-eyed smile. "We can save the gift-giving after we have our food. That way, it feel much more special."

Xiangling returns to the front, balancing a couple of dishes wherever she could and deliver it to your table. "We have not tried the food yet, so let us enjoy it together." Xingqui smiles.

Paimon was the first to dig in, of course, and the first to feel full. Chongyun, however, couldn't quite enjoy the food and created havoc in the restaurant-- Xingqui ordered a meal with spice, not letting his friend know of it. It was always chaotic with this duo.

"Ah, I think this would be the most perfect time to hand out the presents, my liege," Xingqui says, chin resting on the back of his hands and giving you a cheeky, close-eyed smile as he ignore his dear friend running around in the back.

You eyed the bookworm and Chongyun with a semi questioning and worrying look, not sure what to say at that moment. "I'll also hold onto dear Chongyun's present for when he gets better," he adds. "A, ah.. Alright." After handing him his and Chongyun's present, you excused yourself for a bit to hand Xiangling her present. "Oh, wow! A gift for me? Thank you, (Y/N)!" The girl giggles and gave you an earnest smile.

After that, you, Paimon, Xingqui, and the crazed Chongyun stood outside of the restaurant, ready to bid goodbye and part ways. "It was truly an honour to dine with you and I extend my thanks on behalf of Chongyun," Xingqui says, re-adjusting the arm of Chongyun's around his neck. "We better be off now. Have a wonderful time." With that, the second son of some rich family, turns the opposite direction and drags his passed out friend along, disappearing from your sight.

"Who are we going to next?" Paimon asks, feeling satisfied. "Xinyan," you answered. The search for Xinyan wasn't easy, seeing as she has to move around the city to hide from the Milleliths for when she performs.

"Hey, Xinyan!" you called out when you finally found her sitting on a crate in some corner. The girl stopped whatever she was doing and looks up at you. "Oh, hey! Whatcha doin' here? You finally here to see one of my concerts?" She grins, straightening herself up. You chuckled, feeling a bit guilty. "Ah, actually, I can't do that today, sorry," you said, scratching the back of your head and averting your eyes.

"Haha, it's no big deal. I figured that you were here for somethin' else. So, what is it?" she asks, her usual grin unwavering when she asked. Knowing this, you felt a bit relieved, taking out the present meant for her. "This is for you." The girl looks af the gift with a visible expression of surprise. "For me?" she asks, slowly taking the gift from your hand. "Uh, can I open it?" She looks up from the box and to you, looking for permission.

"Well, it is yours," you say. The girl opens and the look of delight glimmer in her eyes. She looks up at you with a semi disbelief in her eyes. "No way, are you sure this is for me? It looks expensive!" And it indeed was, but it wasn't as expensive as the hairpins for Ningguang. "Of course, it's for you. Who else would it be for, if not for you?" you ask. The girl grins and smacks your back hard, causing you to cough. "Thanks for this, mate. I mean it."

"Ah, it's no problem," you hiss, trying to rub your back of the tingling pain. The girl cackles at your actions, knuckles resting on the side of her hips as she does so. "Well, since ya aren't stayin', it means that you have places to be, yeah? Then, you best be off." She pushes you along. "You can always come and see one of my performances later."

You look over your shoulder, and with a smile, you nodded. "Let's go, Paimon," you say to your friend and made your way outside the city to the inn at Dihua Marsh, hoping that the person you want to see will be there.

"Do you think he'll be here?" Paimon asks as you two took the elevator up. "Well, that is what I'm hoping for." With that said, the elevator safely reached the top and you waltz inside to find Verr Goldett behind the counter as always. "Oh? (Y/N), what brings you here?" The boss of the inn greets with a smile.

"Sorry to drop by so suddenly. I am looking for Xiao. Is he here?" you ask. She brought up a finger to her chin and look at the ceiling, thinking. "Mm, I believe he is out right now. Is something the matter?" she asks, facing you. You shook your head. "I just wanted to give him something. Is it alright if I wait for him?"

"Of course." She nods. You made your way up the stairs, Paimon trailing not too far behind, to the highest level of the inn and waited at the balcony that you two had first met. You remembered it not having the best first impression of the adeptus, but the journey certainly changed that.

"What are you doing here?" A cold, monotone voice of a man asks from behind, drawing yours and Paimon's attention.

There stood the yaksha whom you have been excited to meet, crossing his arms as he gave you the look of questioning and solid eyes. "I was waiting for you," you earnestly say. "Waiting for me? For what?" He walks closer to where you stood and rested his arms on the railing, putting all weight on it.

You took out the present, drawing the male's attention away from the scenery to you, a curious gaze as he does so. "To give you this." You outstretched your two arms that held a larger box than the others that you've given. He looks at you quite surprised, but turned to yet another confused look. "Uh, what's this?" he asks, looking from you to the box.

"Don't tell me you don't know that today is the holiday!" you say in almost disbelief. "Huh? Oh, yeah.. Is it that time of year that mortals get excited about?" he questions and you nodded happily and urge him to take the gift- to which he did. "Uh, um.. T, thank you," he utters almost in a whisper, averting his eyes to the ground and covering his mouth with a hand. You notice that his ears was slightly pink, making you chuckle.

"H, hey, what's so funny?" He snaps his head towards your shaking body as you couldn't hold the laugh. "S-sorry, it's just that.. I never thought that an adeptus could get so shy from receiving presents!" you honestly say. Hearing this, he turns his head away, his face much more red.

He clicks his tongue. "I've never received a present from anyone else other than Rex Lapis, okay?" he states, trying to hide his face. Hearing this, you stopped chuckling and stare with a soft gaze at the shy adeptus. "Well, I won't hold much of your time, and I'm sure you wouldn't want us to watch you open the present, so I'll get going now," you say, beginning to walk down the stairs with a wave.

"W, wait!" You stopped on your tracks and look over your shoulder. He turns his body to face you and took a deep breath. "Thank you.. I mean it," Xiao says, eyes still glued to the ground. You huffed a smile. "You're welcome. Happy holidays, Xiao."

"Ooh, are we going to go to the dinner with Childe and Mr. Zhongli now?" Paimon asks excitedly when the two of you got to the bottom, to which you nodded. "We can also give the gifts to them there."

"Hey, (Y/N)!" Childe waves from a far off table once you two stepped inside Luili Pavillion, standing up to greet you excitedly. "I was worried that you forgot about today," he admits, scratching the back of his head as he chuckles.

"Even if I did forget, I'm sure Paimon wouldn't forget it, seeing as you're treating us to a free meal," you laugh and turn to greet Zhongli who greets back. "It is certainly most enjoyable to dine with others on such a day," Zhongli admits, a small smile on his charming face. "The food should be here quite soon. I have ordered a special dish of Liyue that only comes once a year of this month."

"Ooh, Paimon can't wait!" she squeals in her seat. "Ah, I think it would be appropriate to give you guys your gifts now," you say and took out two gifts-- one for each of the male. "Oh? A present?" Zhongli humbly takes his gift, eyeing the box. "It is quite different from offerings," you state.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," Childe says, taking his present off of your hands. "I'm honoured to receive a gift from you." He chuckles. Soon after saying that, two waiters came to your table and placed a hefty amount of food on the table. "Ah, it's finally here! Well, dig in."

"If you should ever want anything else on the menu, please ask away," one of the waiters say. "Hoho! Paimon is sure to ask!" Paimon says and grabs her chopsticks.

The night was full of warmth and chatter, and a crying Childe who asks for a spoon and fork to eat the meal before Paimon could vacuum. What happened on that day was special and felt as if all the chaos that had now passed didn't even happen at all. You were sure to miss Liyue when you depart to Inazuma, a part of you remaining on this special day on repeat.

---

Happy holidays everyone and have a happy new year! ^♡^

~♡~