Maybe It Was Always You

Xiao x GN Reader - Romantic - Oneshot - Fluff - SFW

Word Count: 1.2k

Note: Loved loved loved writing this, my favourite writings are always secret character analyses lol (hope you enjoy!)

Perhaps Xiao had always wanted to love you.

Maybe he could admit that whenever he looked at you from afar, something deep within him would light up at the way you smiled, and then recoil as he reminded himself that he could never allow you to smile that way for him. But that was as much as he could ever admit.

Xiao took pride in his ability to stamp out any desire, any traces of mortal consciousness in his heart that made him yearn for worldly comfort. He did not need such frivolity. He was a Yaksha for Archon's sake; a creature of battle, an instrument of war. His heart had no room for simple temptations. He had no room for his heart.

So what was the tightness in the chest he swore was hollow? How could you fill him with more air than even his vision? Maybe Xiao had always wanted to feel. Perhaps he never let himself stray too far from his position of duty because he couldn't know how. However gruelling it was to slay and strike and punish, it was almost comfortable. Xiao knew all of this well.

He knew not of how to speak to you.

"Which tea would you prefer Xiao?"

I literally haven’t posted anything in months but holy shit i doubled back to the “he had no room for his heart” line because it was so beautiful :(:( thank you for this it’s so lovely

your scent is intoxicating

...in other words, how do they smell?

Info: Characters included are Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Tighnari, Cyno, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Thoma, Ayato, and Xiao. Headcanons! That's it! Reader is GN when rarely mentioned. Reference to Tighnari's namecard.

Warnings: Mentions of blood (non-graphic), cigarettes

A/N: Just my personal headcanons, feel free to add your own thoughts!

between the pages

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: modern!au, meet-cute, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2206

✧.* a/n: sorry i haven't posted in forever teehee i had to use all of my effort to squeeze this out of my brain ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

pry your way in

sebastian (sdv) x gn reader

word count: 4.7k (oh my god)

content: mutual pining, ROMANTIC TENSION, aggressive pining on the reader’s part, do they kiss or do they not, social anxiety (can u TELL), embarrassing situations, comedy (maybe) (hopefully) (maybe you’ll get a little giggle out of this and swing your feet around), so much build up, the slowest burn you could possibly get in under 5k words

notes: oh HEY guys so i went crazy again and i don’t think i’ve ever written so much in one sitting. this is insane. look at what this game has done to me.  this is kind of a companion piece to my last sebastian fic linked HERE!!!! you can probably read this without reading the other one but idk if u want more sebastian content i encourage u to read the other one first… just saying… OK ENJOY AND THIS IS NOT BETA READ OR EDITED SO SORRY FOR ANY ERRORS OK BYE!!!!!!

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All you need to do is drop off these stupid eggs in Gus’s fridge. That’s it. In and out and then you can go home and pretend that you did not stare at Sebastian for almost an entire straight minute in the doorway of the saloon. 

He’s too busy playing pool, you think, and from the brief (many) glances you’ve taken at them, it looks like he’s pretty close to beating Sam. Your heart goes out to the blonde. One day, for sure, he’ll be able to get more than three balls in an entire game against Sebastian. 

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— YOU TOOK THE GODS ( AND MADE THEM HUMAN ).

↷ various genshin x reader

✦ synopsis : in the end, the gods were the gods and humans were human. but what is dichotomy without it's shades of grey, and what were gods without the humanity that lingers in their hearts?

# masterlist

&& . ei | raiden shogun · ( between the raging storm ; your face lingers )

& WHAT COULD SHE CALL ‘hers’ in this world? The morning glory nestled in her hair, the tatami mats of the Tenshukaken, the titles she holds are heavy with the weight of another’s memories and their tears and their love. Ei’s hands were calloused, her skin was scarred and her eyes bore none of the softness Makoto had. She was but a mirage, a similar face but different in the shape of its jaw and the slant of its eyes.

・❥・OF DEVASTATION AND IDYLLIC AFFIRMATIONS

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Character: Scaramouche

♡ — Synopsis: After all he has been through, Kunikuzushi finds it difficult to trust. However, a single push causes his indifferent façade to shatter.

♡ — Content: Scaramouche is referred to as Kunikuzushi, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending, nightmares, clingy Scara, vague spoilers for Scara’s backstory, established relationship (but it's in its early stages)

♡ — Word Count: 883

Kunikuzushi has a strange tendency of edging his way around intimacy. He has his back to you each night as you fall asleep beside each other in your shared bed, and whenever you ask to hold him, he rejects your advances without hesitation.

Sometimes his words hurt. They drive venom-coated daggers into your fragile heart with the utmost precision, never failing to make you wince as the pain of your lover’s refusal sows seeds of doubt within your mind. However, after pursuing Kunikuzushi for what feels like eons, you know better than to take his harsh remarks at face value.

“you’re pretty.”

xiao looks up at your words, staring at you blankly as if he can’t imagine those two words could ever be directed towards someone like him. he doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes and turns back to the view in front of him. he ignores the way you stare at him, so warm, so gentle, as if you view him as the most wonderful being in teyvat. he doesn’t believe it.

xiao is pretty, and he knows this. he’s an adeptus for archons sake. he’s lived with thousands of years of experiences and memories upon his shoulders. they have built this figure, with golden eyes and soft hair. he adorns the accessories with pride and cares little for how old they may be. he is well aware that there are people who stare at him in awe, whether for his looks or the simple fact that he is an adeptus, he doesn’t quite know. what he does know, is that you stare at him longer than you should. you shamelessly let your eyes trace over the outline of his face, taking in the design of his clothes and every little emotion that flickers across his features.

you’re able to read him better than most anyone else, and the thought of that scares him.

“don’t roll your eyes,” you sigh and reach for him. “just admit that you’re pretty.” you let hands trace across soft skin, drawing delicate shapes and swirls that make goosebumps erupt in their wake. he isn’t startled no, nor is he unused to your touch, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get over the fact that you are so comfortable with touching him so gently. 

when xiao looks down at his hands he sees that they are stained with blood. he can see through the gloves that he has washed over and over until they’ve started to tear at the seams. his hands are red. a bloody red and no matter how many times he scrubs his skin raw, seems to stain his skin. he wears those gloves so that he never has to see his hands.

and yet you take his hands so gently as if afraid that he might run, that he will run. you don’t try to tug his gloves off, you don’t ask for more, you simply request that he stays by your side. you call it a selfish request but he silently disagrees. because in his mind, he vows to stay at your side no matter what. sometimes he wishes you would be more selfish, because he thinks you deserve to be. you deserve all the kindness in the world, the sun, the moon, and the stars. you deserve a world where he is not bound by the memories he is unable to let go of. you deserve a world where he is just xiao, no titles, no bloodshed, just him. and he would have you. just you, all to himself to love.

you’re pretty. the words echo in his head. he looks away, how can you think a monster is “pretty?” do you not see the blood, the miasmic remains, the karma that haunts him like a cloud? you dare to call him pretty with such gentleness in your tone that it makes xiao want to run.

you’re pretty. perhaps he is. but only from a distance. because he doesn’t believe that he’ll ever deserve to be near someone as kind as you.

floral swing. (xiao, kazuha)

kazuha.

“Can’t we stay in here forever, Kazuha?” You breathed, melting into the pillow-soft cushions of a floral swing, your head pressed into the man’s legs. The swing pushed and pulled beneath you like the lull of ocean waves brushing up against the shore. Kazuha’s fingers did the same, weaving through the crisp wind that tickled your skin and stroking over your cheeks, your fluttering eyelashes. He hummed, and the sound harmonized with the chirp of nearby birds. 

“It certainly eases the mind,” The words blended pleasantly in your mind as another cool breeze washed across your face. In the traveler’s teapot,  life was devoid of tribulation. All that existed was the sun, unerringly warm against your skin, Kazuha’s fingers dripping through your hair until you were just on the precipice of blissful sleep, and—

The press of something firm against your lips, ambrosial granules flicking onto your tongue. A fruit. 

“Zaytun peaches, have you had them?” Kazuha always knew what was on your mind. His voice had to be a lullaby, and you welcomed the offering, the peach’s skin velvety against your tongue, it’s flavor sweetened by flecks of sugar. “With a sprinkle of sugar, how you like.” The follow up statement was laced with self-satisfaction, and you smiled against his fingers, chewing thoughtfully and letting your drowsy eyes flick open to gaze at his features leering over yours. The sun cast a halo around his hair, and your hand rebelliously reached for the scarlet strand nearly brushing against your nose. 

“Do you want a taste?” You murmured, watching a range of emotions flick through his ruby eyes. First: him attempting to read your intentions, your feelings. Second: confusion. Third: realization, and finally, a soft desire that burnt against his cheeks. Within a few seconds, you were wrinkling your nose at the ticklish sensation of his hair finally brushing the tip, swallowing thickly before feeling his words on your lips.

“I suppose a taste wouldn’t hurt,”

xiao.

You could only think one thing as you gazed upon the adeptus in your lap, his lashes fluttering, his cheeks flushed a soft, docile pink.

“You’re so lovely, Xiao.” You charmed, words softer than wind chimes. Xiao was favorable to compliments if you whispered them lowly and fervently. He was much like a bird that way, needing to be carried gently into affection, perhaps out of fear that something disastrous would happen if he indulged too much.

And gentle you were; it was hard to coax him into relaxation regardless, and you strived to keep his peace as long as possible.

Xiao hummed, a sign he’d heard while you leaned and pressed yet another featherlight kiss to his nose, moving leisurely to his cheekbone to plant another. His trust in you was intoxicating. Just a few months ago, and the action would’ve made him recoil. Now, however, he barely flinched when you dragged your lips to the bow of his, kissing his upper lip like a breeze. As if to soothe the action, you traced your thumb down his round cheek as you withdrew, scouring his face for any unfavorable reaction. Instead, you earned a pleased sigh, one which you echoed.

The silence enveloped your pair like a warm blanket, the cool grass between your toes, the weight of his head on your lap, the tickle of his hair against your thighs. Your seat — a cushioned floral swing — rocked back and forth, draping vines framing the scene before you, embroidered with white petals. Pressing your lips together, you smiled quaintly, eyes drooping closed at a blissful breeze wafting over your sunkissed cheeks, pretending like the sliver of time was eternal, like Xiao would never leave your side, like he’d be between your fingers until the stars fell from the sky—

The worn fabric of Xiao’s glove against your cheek pulled you from your reverie, and your eyes fluttered open as his thumb smoothed a growing wrinkle between your eyebrows.

“Are you troubled?” The somewhat archaic lilt to his speech, the concerned glow to his golden gaze: it immediately softened your disposition, and you offered a smile, plucking his fingers from your face and bringing them to your lips, adorning each one with its own kiss.

“At your side? Never?”

floral swing. (xiao, kazuha)

kazuha.

“Can’t we stay in here forever, Kazuha?” You breathed, melting into the pillow-soft cushions of a floral swing, your head pressed into the man’s legs. The swing pushed and pulled beneath you like the lull of ocean waves brushing up against the shore. Kazuha’s fingers did the same, weaving through the crisp wind that tickled your skin and stroking over your cheeks, your fluttering eyelashes. He hummed, and the sound harmonized with the chirp of nearby birds. 

“It certainly eases the mind,” The words blended pleasantly in your mind as another cool breeze washed across your face. In the traveler’s teapot,  life was devoid of tribulation. All that existed was the sun, unerringly warm against your skin, Kazuha’s fingers dripping through your hair until you were just on the precipice of blissful sleep, and—

The press of something firm against your lips, ambrosial granules flicking onto your tongue. A fruit. 

“Zaytun peaches, have you had them?” Kazuha always knew what was on your mind. His voice had to be a lullaby, and you welcomed the offering, the peach’s skin velvety against your tongue, it’s flavor sweetened by flecks of sugar. “With a sprinkle of sugar, how you like.” The follow up statement was laced with self-satisfaction, and you smiled against his fingers, chewing thoughtfully and letting your drowsy eyes flick open to gaze at his features leering over yours. The sun cast a halo around his hair, and your hand rebelliously reached for the scarlet strand nearly brushing against your nose. 

“Do you want a taste?” You murmured, watching a range of emotions flick through his ruby eyes. First: him attempting to read your intentions, your feelings. Second: confusion. Third: realization, and finally, a soft desire that burnt against his cheeks. Within a few seconds, you were wrinkling your nose at the ticklish sensation of his hair finally brushing the tip, swallowing thickly before feeling his words on your lips.

“I suppose a taste wouldn’t hurt,”

xiao.

You could only think one thing as you gazed upon the adeptus in your lap, his lashes fluttering, his cheeks flushed a soft, docile pink.

“You’re so lovely, Xiao.” You charmed, words softer than wind chimes. Xiao was favorable to compliments if you whispered them lowly and fervently. He was much like a bird that way, needing to be carried gently into affection, perhaps out of fear that something disastrous would happen if he indulged too much.

And gentle you were; it was hard to coax him into relaxation regardless, and you strived to keep his peace as long as possible.

Xiao hummed, a sign he’d heard while you leaned and pressed yet another featherlight kiss to his nose, moving leisurely to his cheekbone to plant another. His trust in you was intoxicating. Just a few months ago, and the action would’ve made him recoil. Now, however, he barely flinched when you dragged your lips to the bow of his, kissing his upper lip like a breeze. As if to soothe the action, you traced your thumb down his round cheek as you withdrew, scouring his face for any unfavorable reaction. Instead, you earned a pleased sigh, one which you echoed.

The silence enveloped your pair like a warm blanket, the cool grass between your toes, the weight of his head on your lap, the tickle of his hair against your thighs. Your seat — a cushioned floral swing — rocked back and forth, draping vines framing the scene before you, embroidered with white petals. Pressing your lips together, you smiled quaintly, eyes drooping closed at a blissful breeze wafting over your sunkissed cheeks, pretending like the sliver of time was eternal, like Xiao would never leave your side, like he’d be between your fingers until the stars fell from the sky—

The worn fabric of Xiao’s glove against your cheek pulled you from your reverie, and your eyes fluttered open as his thumb smoothed a growing wrinkle between your eyebrows.

“Are you troubled?” The somewhat archaic lilt to his speech, the concerned glow to his golden gaze: it immediately softened your disposition, and you offered a smile, plucking his fingers from your face and bringing them to your lips, adorning each one with its own kiss.

“At your side? Never?”

of flesh and bone, thunder and lightning

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader (gender-neutral) 

This oneshot will refer to Wanderer as “Scaramouche”. Feel free to replace this with the name you chose for him as you read!

Summary: Every gesture, touch and action that you share with him is something that you will always treasure. From the way his eyes securely lock onto yours, like two puzzle pieces falling into place, to the fingers that interlock with yours, like threads of an interwoven tapestry of adoration that perfectly weave together; it simply just isn’t enough. But what you always desire for are the kisses that are oh so characteristically him. You yearn for the invigorating way it nourishes and rejuvenates the ardour that blooms in your heart whenever he conveys his endearment through a loving and intimate embrace. 

Word count: 2900

Author’s Note: Happy belated White Day everyone! (I meant to post this earlier but I had a presentation and a mock exam. Sorry for the wait!)

(PS: I named Wanderer “sayang” [“love” in Bahasa Malaysia] because I couldn’t think of a name that would fully reflect his personality and what he means to me. I will always refer to him as “Scaramouche” so, I gave him a cute pet name! Though I was extremely compelled to call him baby girl. Haha, let me know what you named him!)

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