from Gaza🍉 help me get my vouce to the world https://gofund.me/a25b42f8
this is a woman trying to help her and her kids out of gaza let’s get her goal of $500 to happen!
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Cosmic Funnies
$LAYYYTER

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Game of Thrones Daily
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

shark vs the universe

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

#extradirty
Three Goblin Art

roma★

Origami Around
Stranger Things
Sade Olutola

titsay
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
taylor price
Cosimo Galluzzi
AnasAbdin
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from T1
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seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

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seen from Egypt
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seen from Australia
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@bloomingchxxry
from Gaza🍉 help me get my vouce to the world https://gofund.me/a25b42f8
this is a woman trying to help her and her kids out of gaza let’s get her goal of $500 to happen!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Sorry y'all, my man still in wip bcs life got me in a chokehold💔🥀
cuddles with og zandik + segments 8 and 18
getting zandik to relax is no easy task. you have to physically pull him away from his work, steal his cane and pick him up so he can't run away. he may grumble and complain, but he does appreciate your care more than you'll ever know. once he's comfortably sat on the couch, offer him some tea and dark chocolate on the side, and watch the old man basically melt into the cushions.
he likes to rest his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat soothes him like nothing else ever could. once he's drowsy enough, you can get away with pressing kisses against every wrinkle and mole on his face. he'd usually call that meaningless affection, but now that his guard was down, he was putty in your hands.
8 and 18 were bickering again, sprinting down the hall to find zandik as fast as possible. they needed his opinion on a discussion they were having, wanting to know which one of them was right. as they ran inside the lounge room, you shushed them, gesturing to the sleeping scholar.
Portrait
Zandik's hands weren't what they used to be. You find a different way to comfort him. Established OldZandik/reader. Reader wears dresses. Inspired by a post on twitter from psychxbby about nail painting and old Zandik wanting to be useful again. On AO3 here.
It was almost done. Weeks of studies, months of pain.
His joints never cooperated anymore.
Trembling, he inhaled and exhaled slow as a single grain of sand through an hourglass before gliding the thin brush over the canvas. The brush jittered, as it always did, and he cursed in old Sumerian as he tried to scrap off the excess with his knife, leaving a scar on your dress.
HOLY FUCK THIS JS AO GOOS ARGHHH
Notes: *gestures vaguely* the Dottores are so ridiculously bad at feelings. I typed out this post earlier and then wrote this after dinner. Tags: Il dottore x reader, pure silly crack and fluff, romantic and perhaps even nsfw implications from the older segments Minors dni with me thank you
You'd been recruited to fill the role of 'assitant'. To replace a long list of people who'd tried to do the job and ended on the autopsy table.
Instead of cold blades cutting through your flesh, The Doctor had offered you something else entirely. No longer were you just an extra set of hands.
Over time, you'd become a friend, a comfort, perhaps even what some would call a lover, to various versions of one of the most feared men.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“I don’t want the future. I want the present to stand still. I want to stay here with you…”˖⋆⟢
✦ synopsis: the way to a gamers heart..is you! (in short how loser!dottore shows his love!)
✦ a/n: the fanart belongs to cosonette on tiktok which inspired this whole thing
• No idea how he bagged but he bagged regardless.
• His actual name is Zandik and his gamer tag is Dottore he was so proud of it, he told everyone to call him Dottore as a nickname. Looking back to it he is embarrassed by his young self and even more embarrassed if you decide to tease him about it.
• “Dihhtore” “Stop☹️”
• He has you saved as muffin in his phone and basically thats your go-to pet nickname! Zandik chose this because y’all met in a cafe that serves the tastiest muffins (and you’re as sweet as muffin to him)
• Both an academic and gamer/manga typa loser. He has many medical internships requests, his skills are high demand — and at the same time he is info dumping large amounts of game lore to you with lightning speed of talking.
• or random facts “Did you know that earwax is a type of sweat?”
• His room is full with educational books and manga followed by his figure collection. Its somehow messy and organised at the same time. Whenever you come over Zandik makes effort it atleast looks decent-ish
• Corniest pick up lines
• “Are you a controller? Because I can’t function without you-“ “Bro.”
• Socialising..who is that? He only goes to college, grocery shopping and the nearby cafe that I mentioned. Most dates happen in his room, if you do insist, he will go out with you but he looks like a dear caught in headlights the whole time.
• Wears glasses due to being infront of a screen for half of his existence and places them on you sometimes as an failed attempt to flirt.
• Hands always sweaty, at first Zandik was even embarrassed to hold hands with you.
• He is clingy — too clingy. This is his first relationship so he just wants you, okay? Doesn’t matter what you’re up to just stay by his side.
• For as long as he remembers, Zandik was always an outcast. No matter how smart he just couldn’t get along with his peers, which made him accustomed to hearing his name said with hatred. When you came along and said Zandik with so much love in your voice it was like the Gods finally decided to show him some grace.
• His hair is mad fluffy and Zandik wouldn’t refuse you — if you would want to pet it while he lays down on your lap (please)
• Too deep into brainrot I fear
⭑.ᐟ
"She is some kind of magic, some kind of chaos, and a little bit of poetry." ✧⋆.˚
✦ synopsis: the adventure of the youngest Hexenzirkel witch!
✦ a/n: This came to me in a dream, basically first meeting with witch reader (includes Durin, Wanderer,Dottore/Zandik/ Lohen)
You had been frantically travelling around recently, all Alices fault!
“Dearest D ,
It has been far too long since our last tea party above the Falcon Coast! I hope you are busy painting the stars somewhere wonderful and blessings to everyone with sweet dreams. I am writing to you because our beloved world is trembling again, and I need a touch of your unique mastery!
Please do come quickly things are becoming terribly interesting.
With affection,
- A.”
As the ninth Hexenzirkel member, to simply put, dreams are your specialty— wait D? You had never agreed on that code name. How simple of a thinking, a witch that can manipulate dreams has a codename of D!?
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁
𐙚Durin
The ley lines at Nod krai seemed odd, usually with your powers you could access the lost memories there easily. Hmm how weird Alice didn’t mention this—
Thud!
You turn around with a baffled expression on your face to see who had bumped into you only to come face to face with purple-haired dragon who now had a embarrassed look on his face.
Followed by a blondie?
“Well then Durin why don’t you introduce yourself to the lady you’ve been starring for the last 10 minutes?” Oh wait thats Albedo, Golds kid — you joined much much later than the other witches, but Nicole has pretty much explained everything with every single detail. Uh-huh, Durin so thats the other ones name.
“Apologies miss D, I assume aunt Alice is the reason why you’re here?”
“Well yes, but her letter was fairly short, do you mind bringing me up to speed?” You nod, looking back at Durin who was now furiously blushing under your gaze hiding behind Albedo.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁
𐙚Wanderer
As per your mage friends concern you stepped foot into Sumeru, in her first letter she hadn’t clarified anything, but in her second letter which arrived shortly after, it gave instructions to go visit Sumeru to investigate the dreams of the citizens.
Well, more like nightmare which manifested with the combined help of traumas and hidden fears. The air itself felt amiss.
Following around the scared aranaras they lead you to someone. As a Hexenzirkel member, you recognise this face Scaramouche or Wanderer to be exact— you know his true origins and his past as a Fatui Harbinger.
But the little naras are practically begging you to wake up their friend from his ill nightmare. Kneeling down to his level, you cup his cheeks soothing the nighmare right away.
Opening his eyes slowly — woah okay this wasn’t the view he was expecting he thought it was Nahida..!
“Hello there.” You spoke calmly with a gentle smile.
?
Why does he feel so giddy all of a sudden?
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁
𐙚Zandik
How mature of the other witches to play a prank on you, there was no danger, only their greedy need for your special tea.
You had always been teased about being the youngest! In a fit of irritation for being pranked like this, you miscalculated your teleportation magic and ended up in the desert. Great, truly excellent.
Looking around you saw someone— a sunburned oy with a dirty Akademiya uniform, he looked so out of place. Out of curiosity and pure goodness in your heart you decide to approach him, with the means of helping him out.
He introduced himself as Zandik coldly as if he somehow had the upper hand in this situation. Anyone else would have been annoyed, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole day.
Through the fit of giggles you tried apologising to Zandik whose face now was the color of zaytun peaches. Oh dear.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁
𐙚Lohen
Sensing your friends presence there you set out to Nod Krai. Sadly you’ve never been great with directions. You were sure you were in Nod Krai, but not where exactly.
Strolling around trying to figure out where the hell you are—you landed right in the middle of a fight. The Wild Hunt couldn’t even touch a strand of your hair no matter how matter how hard it tried, a simple feat of the so known mistress of illusions and dreams.
Analysing the situation and the state of the knight s that you’re well acquainted with, the fight is quickly resolved, a simple feat of—
“As the Vice Captain of the Fifth Company, Lohen, I am grateful for your help in need of help. Miss..?” Oh so it was Lohen who dared to interrupt your little self-love session.
“You can call me miss D.” You said offhandedly.
Not long after introducing yourself Varka arrived, a face you well recognise. Given his very extroverted personality he invited you to Favonius Keep for a drink and a meal. I mean in all honesty, who doesn’t like free stuff?
Walking back you were infront, just in case. Unbeknown to you Lohen was also supposed to be infront, but this time the view from back happened to be much more to his taste.
⭑.ᐟ
Papa me want more
“What greater gift than the love of a cat.” ⦮ ⦯ ⟆
✦ synopsis: living as a human is exhausting.. being a cat is ten times better.
✦ ft. Durin, Wanderer, Diluc, Lohen /x cat!reader/
ㅤꨄ︎Durin
Durin is still learning human interaction and often he gets exhausted by them. Or overwhelmed. He isn’t exactly quite proud of intentionally avoiding socialising.
When he was getting away from the horrors of interacting with other people because it was simply too much today, Durin stumbled upon a cat.
Not any cat, a fluffy cat!
He didn’t know when and what happened back then, but now he was back in the Knights of Favonius Headquarters cooing at the fuzzball.
As time went by Durin got more and more attached to you even if you always ended up running away from him, he knew your usual hangout spots and there wasn’t another cat in Mondstadt as fluffy as you.
Following your regular routine you had ran away from him again when the evening faded into night. This time Durin had made a headstrong decision,he was gonna follow you!
For a moment he had lost you out of sight, looking back up and seeing his feline friend that he had cuddled, kissed, caressed so much turn into a human being..
A suffocating wave of embarrassment hit him, making his heart beat rapidly.
ㅤꨄ︎ Wanderer
Wanderer has always found peace in the wilderness where no one could bother him. Getting lost in his thoughts, he heard a soft meow from the bushes behind which snapped him out of if.
He rose up coolly from his resting spot and picked up the small feline swiftly.
“What a troublemaker.” He scoffed before settling back to his resting spot, pulling you onto his lap.
There was no way Wanderer was leaving something that small and valuable out in the wilderness and that’s how you end up in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
You didn’t know which was worse, being a cuddle toy to Wanderer, or receiving amused smiles from the dendro archon herself.
On one particular night, Nahida had snatched you from his grasp — your transformation magic was getting more unstable than before and the God of Wisdom had sensed that right away.
In the morning the puppet was more irritable than the normal amount. He had looked everywhere but couldn’t find the cat anywhere.
He was at the end of his limit when he went to Nahida and heard a familiar purring but from a human with cat ears. It clicked.
The second hand embarrassment clicked too.
ㅤꨄ︎ Diluc
For a few days the maids of the Dawn Winery had been chatting about how the attic was possessed, eventually it reached Dilucs ears too. Out of sheer curiosity and to give his employees a peace of mind he went to check it out.
Much to his entertainment, instead of finding something scary he found something adorable. Diluc lifted the kitten tenderly.
After coming down from the attic, he asked Elzer to formally summon the maids to the ground floor.
Once all the staff gathered around, Diluc spoke calmly.
“I assume you are all quite informed with the attic phantom. Behold.” He said as he lifted the small animal.
There was a minute of silence before the hushed giggles came. This wasn’t usual for master Diluc, he had a reputation for being serious and efficient. Summoning his staff for this was utterly out of character for him. Who could have known that master had a soft spot for cats?
The winery had never been this livelier before and it all thanks to this tiny kitty. Master Diluc had changed too, it had been around 6 months from that incident on and much to everyones surprise he had started courting someone. The strange thing was whenever Dilucs lover would appear the kitten without a fail would disappear.
ㅤꨄ︎ Lohen
“Oh, so thats how it is?” Lohen said to the cat who bit him. In all honesty, he probably scared you with how sudden he approached you from the back. Jokingly he hoisted up you in the air.
“Air jail for bad kitties who bite.”
Your paws span in the air and you tried to get away from him with angry meows. How dare he! First he scares you now this!
“How persistent..fine.”
As soon as you hit the ground the bolted away from the man, jeez whats his deal.
The next day he had found you again and you hissed at him — very normal reaction nothing humiliating. Yep definitely lets go with that.
A habit it had had become of him to search for the endearing feline in the evening to play around with it.
That time of the day had come again, yet this time instead of his furry friend he found a human in its usual spot with awfully recognisable cat ears.
The fact that you had that type of ability was highly intoxicating to him, Lohen would not utter a single word about this encounter.
The following days he’d rub your belly more than usual, kiss your forehead and spend more time with you — he just wanted to see if he could get you to confess to this on your own with this special attack.
⭑.ᐟ
when they overhear you talk lovingly about them [genshin men]
⋗ ft. alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, dottore, flins, neuvillette, pantalone, tighnari, zhongli
⋗ ~0.3k | fluff | gn!reader
Alhaitham
It’s… honestly not even the first time this has happened to him.
There’s been plenty of instances when he overheard someone talking about him, although mostly it wasn’t the kindest words - perhaps because the person usually happened to be his roommate. Then again, a lot of what he happened to hear were also other students fawning over him, whispering their desires like that was the most important thing on their minds. Alhaitham never understood why they couldn’t just focus on their research and studies.
But with you, he lowers his gaze and listens. He doesn’t make his presence known, simply takes in your words without shaking his head, without the familiar feeling of irritation rising through him. In fact, he notices his body getting warmer. A soft, cotton-like sensation in his chest that makes him feel light.
Who's the Father??
Warnings: A lot of talk about childbirth, labor, and possibly inaccurate medical terms. Mentions of storing and freezing the placenta. Segments using swear words and being involved with the delivery (except 8, he's a minor). Segment 35 (Omega), being a little possessive and self-centered as always. No smut, but mentioned and implied nsfw.
ــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“What greater gift than the love of a cat.” ⦮ ⦯ ⟆
✦ synopsis: living as a human is exhausting.. being a cat is ten times better.
✦ ft. Durin, Wanderer, Diluc, Lohen /x cat!reader/
ㅤꨄ︎Durin
Durin is still learning human interaction and often he gets exhausted by them. Or overwhelmed. He isn’t exactly quite proud of intentionally avoiding socialising.
When he was getting away from the horrors of interacting with other people because it was simply too much today, Durin stumbled upon a cat.
Not any cat, a fluffy cat!
He didn’t know when and what happened back then, but now he was back in the Knights of Favonius Headquarters cooing at the fuzzball.
As time went by Durin got more and more attached to you even if you always ended up running away from him, he knew your usual hangout spots and there wasn’t another cat in Mondstadt as fluffy as you.
Following your regular routine you had ran away from him again when the evening faded into night. This time Durin had made a headstrong decision,he was gonna follow you!
For a moment he had lost you out of sight, looking back up and seeing his feline friend that he had cuddled, kissed, caressed so much turn into a human being..
A suffocating wave of embarrassment hit him, making his heart beat rapidly.
ㅤꨄ︎ Wanderer
Wanderer has always found peace in the wilderness where no one could bother him. Getting lost in his thoughts, he heard a soft meow from the bushes behind which snapped him out of if.
He rose up coolly from his resting spot and picked up the small feline swiftly.
“What a troublemaker.” He scoffed before settling back to his resting spot, pulling you onto his lap.
There was no way Wanderer was leaving something that small and valuable out in the wilderness and that’s how you end up in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
You didn’t know which was worse, being a cuddle toy to Wanderer, or receiving amused smiles from the dendro archon herself.
On one particular night, Nahida had snatched you from his grasp — your transformation magic was getting more unstable than before and the God of Wisdom had sensed that right away.
In the morning the puppet was more irritable than the normal amount. He had looked everywhere but couldn’t find the cat anywhere.
He was at the end of his limit when he went to Nahida and heard a familiar purring but from a human with cat ears. It clicked.
The second hand embarrassment clicked too.
ㅤꨄ︎ Diluc
For a few days the maids of the Dawn Winery had been chatting about how the attic was possessed, eventually it reached Dilucs ears too. Out of sheer curiosity and to give his employees a peace of mind he went to check it out.
Much to his entertainment, instead of finding something scary he found something adorable. Diluc lifted the kitten tenderly.
After coming down from the attic, he asked Elzer to formally summon the maids to the ground floor.
Once all the staff gathered around, Diluc spoke calmly.
“I assume you are all quite informed with the attic phantom. Behold.” He said as he lifted the small animal.
There was a minute of silence before the hushed giggles came. This wasn’t usual for master Diluc, he had a reputation for being serious and efficient. Summoning his staff for this was utterly out of character for him. Who could have known that master had a soft spot for cats?
The winery had never been this livelier before and it all thanks to this tiny kitty. Master Diluc had changed too, it had been around 6 months from that incident on and much to everyones surprise he had started courting someone. The strange thing was whenever Dilucs lover would appear the kitten without a fail would disappear.
ㅤꨄ︎ Lohen
“Oh, so thats how it is?” Lohen said to the cat who bit him. In all honesty, he probably scared you with how sudden he approached you from the back. Jokingly he hoisted up you in the air.
“Air jail for bad kitties who bite.”
Your paws span in the air and you tried to get away from him with angry meows. How dare he! First he scares you now this!
“How persistent..fine.”
As soon as you hit the ground the bolted away from the man, jeez whats his deal.
The next day he had found you again and you hissed at him — very normal reaction nothing humiliating. Yep definitely lets go with that.
A habit it had had become of him to search for the endearing feline in the evening to play around with it.
That time of the day had come again, yet this time instead of his furry friend he found a human in its usual spot with awfully recognisable cat ears.
The fact that you had that type of ability was highly intoxicating to him, Lohen would not utter a single word about this encounter.
The following days he’d rub your belly more than usual, kiss your forehead and spend more time with you — he just wanted to see if he could get you to confess to this on your own with this special attack.
⭑.ᐟ
The eight-year-old Segment was unlike any child you had ever met.
When you were in the Akademiya with Zandik, you had gathered bits and pieces from what he told you about his childhood to somewhat imagine what a little Zandik would look like. It was… difficult to envision, not because you couldn’t form a picture, but because the thought of him being hurt so deeply as a child hurt you too. But when you finally saw the slice of his child self in front of you, you quickly realized the reality was far more cruel than you could ever think of on your own.
His eyes were… empty. For someone so young, not even a glimmer of light could be seen within the redness. It would have comforted you more to see even anger or sadness, but there seemed to be nothing of the sort. And yet, it did not deter you from attempting to befriend him, despite Eight’s initial lack of interest.
He was the child, and yet you were the one wandering after him like a lost kid. The Segment would just stare at you before excusing himself. Perhaps he was confused about why you were speaking to him in such an excited tone. Perhaps he did not know how to deal with it. All he knew was that the others had told him to treat you respectfully but not to bother you, and Eighteen specifically gave him a look every time you tried to usher him closer.
But in the end, a child was a child. A child would think and behave like one no matter how much they buried themselves, and that was also true for little Eight. You had noticed Eight frequently spent his spare time writing and doodling in his notebook, although he would always shut it if you got too close, obviously still guarded around you. At least he had gotten comfortable enough to let you stay in his room. Still, it was easy to piece together what he was doing in there. So, one day you slipped him a drawing of an Aranara you had drawn yourself.
OH THATS MY SON RIGHT YHETE MY BABY BOY
What is it like dating the second Fatui Harbinger?
Synopsis - People pity you the moment they hear you are dating the Il Dottore. How terrible it must be! Little do they know, Dottore treated you like you hung the damn stars
Tags - OOC Dottore/ Golden retriever energy/ lots of praise/ Dottore and his clones are obsessed with you/ Obsessive Dottore/ But not gross obsessive
Eli note! Dottore is SUPER ooc in this, not cannon at all, so don't come for me!! This is because I played the new Archon quest...no spoilers but im sobbing. ENJOY
People feared Il Dottore.
No — fear wasn’t a strong enough word for it.
People dreaded him.
The Second Harbinger carried a reputation soaked in blood and whispered rumors, spoken carefully behind closed doors and only in hushed voices.
Mad scientist. Monster. Inhuman.
A man so brilliant that even fellow scholars regarded him with unease.
The kind of man mothers warned their children about.
The kind of man soldiers straightened for the second his footsteps echoed down a hall.
And somehow—She was dating him.
Not trapped.
Not threatened.
Dating.
6.6 SPOILERS!!
Dottore Segements/ Zandik X Reader
Reader is female but it's negligible since I don't think Dottore would actually care. Still has mentions of a womb, but Dottore is weird enough to make an artificial womb for a male, honestly.
Named myself mother bcs I have strong maternal instincts and 8 year old Zandik fucking shot me.
[Hello! I'm writing this after this post was finished, I lost the plot with the 8 year old, sorry. Short memory. Anyway,]
Imagine that you really love the OG Zandik, that in his old age he actually let someone who is poised and gentle with him care about him. His segments all have such high opinions of themselves and just don't wish to care for the old man. Work with him? Perhaps, but they were no caretakers.
That's your purpose now, and the 84 year old feels a budge in his heart. It's small, negligible, but as he gets older he wonders if maybe it wasn't the right call to reject a more human life.
Holy bro that is such a nightmare for the reader…imagine seeing your dead loved ones
✧SALVATION I
sagau | gn! reader | divine horror
Pierro prays. Dottore dissects. Scaramouche laughs until the date on the page makes him flinch.
— Focus: You, Dottore, Pantalone, Pierro, Scaramouche
— Chorus: Columbina
Part I (you are here) | Part II | Part III | Part IV
You don’t remember the fall.
Not in the way one doesn’t remember sleep, or dreams, or such. It is simply not a memory. Perhaps that was something that happened before your existence was truly completed.
There are small visions of it you get sometimes. Broken like shards of glass, in small pieces, not in sync, but painful nonetheless.
The taste of ozone, sharp and bitter on your tongue. The light—not warmth, but rupture, blinding and alive, as if the sky had torn itself open just to cast you down.
And the sound—oh, the sound—a silence so profound it could only be called divine. The hush of the world holding its breath as you pierced the heavens and shattered through the atmosphere, waiting to see if you would rise or shatter.
Mondstadt made poems and songs about it, Fontaine fawned, scholars in Sumeru almost went insane trying to make sense.
You don’t remember the impact.
Only the way the air bent around you. The way the stars flickered, then blinked out.
And then—nothing.
—
When you awaken, you are cradled in marble and silence.
Cold fingers brush your cheek.
“Is it conscious?” a voice murmurs, smooth and distant. Layered with a cool so thin it could barely conceal the excitement beneath.
Your eyes slowly find clarity, shapes resolve, then, you see blurry silhouettes of two men. One with black hair, one with blue.
Your vision focuses on the closest. White gloves. Blue braid. A smile that was stitched together with such surgical precision, it almost looked like a painting.
“I will take responsibility for the specimen,” says Dottore. Voice low and measured. “Its form is… delicate. And so very, very divine.”
You don’t respond, not trusting your voice to come out whole or your questions to get answers at all.
You close your eyes
—
Pierro visits very often.
He speaks like a priest, but watches like a soldier. He stands at your window with his hands behind his back, watching snow drift past the stained glass image of your face. For someone called “The Jester”, he is not a man of many words. He doesn’t ask you many questions. Just simple pleasantries, a few moments in your presence, then he takes his leave. He is a busy man after all.
“You fell for a reason” he tells you once. “The stars do not bend for the ordinary.”
He looks over his shoulder. “The Tsaritsa once said: ‘All who fall from grace still carry light.’”
You don’t blink. “That wasn’t what she meant.”
His breath doesn’t hitch but you can tell he visibly falters—just for a breath.
“Do you remember her?”
You don’t answer.
But in the dark of your mind, something shifts. A throne in frost. A woman wrapped in grief. A crown made not of gold, but of unbearable burden.
—
Dottore is the worst of them.
He doesn’t ask for miracles. He extracts them. Peels them meticulously from bone and breath. Manufactures meaning in glass and steel and subjects that scream beneath precise scalpels. You’re not the first he’s tried to shape into something greater. But you’re the only one who survived the fall with your divinity intact—and untouched by him.
His laboratory is filled with fragments of failed divinity: twisted shapes encased in glass, mechanical birds with wings of brass that sing your name in perfect, eerie chorus. In the center of his lab, lined with things that are wrong and living, stands your statue carved from luminous quartz, eyes forever shut.
He visits again. Of course he does. He always comes when the questions begin to rot in his skull like fruit left too long. Today, he kneels.
Not from reverence, but from something colder, sharper—curiosity slicing through restraint. His posture is carefully measured, each angle precise, as though he’s studying how proximity and position influence your subtle reactions. Studying how you respond when he places himself below your eye level.
You do not flinch. You do not move. You only watch.
That’s what he fears most.
He has cut gods open, torn secrets from the divine and lifeless tongues. But you—you—sit there in your silence like it’s a throne, and give him absolutely nothing.
And so, inevitably, he fills the void himself.
“Older than Celestia itself…” he murmurs, voice shivering on the thin line between worship and madness. His gloved hand hovers close, almost brushing your knee but never quite daring to. “Or perhaps you came after—something unprecedented. A possibility they could neither predict nor prevent.”
You do not blink. You do not smile. You do not answer.
And that is what makes him tremble.
He continues, voice turning fervent, raw at the edges. “You don’t speak because you know my understanding isn’t yet worthy. You’re waiting until I’ve ascended enough to comprehend.”
“You’re waiting for me to catch up.”
You tilt your head, just slightly. It’s the first movement you’ve made in hours.
It breaks him.
He laughs softly, almost bitterly, how his composure slips through his fingers like sand.
“Speak.” he whispers, voice strained with need, fingers flexing as if gripping invisible threads of your silence. “I said speak. Haven’t I earned at least this?”
You lower your gaze, brushing your fingertips lightly against your sleeve.
You still look at him with the same expression you’ve worn since you woke in his silver room. And still, he’s kneeling.
—
You walk slowly between the rows—pale hydrangeas, frost-thick roses, trees that bow instead of bloom. The air smells faintly of smoke and snow. You don’t look back, but you hear footsteps before they finish.
He doesn’t announce himself. Scaramouche never does.
“Finally away from your worshippers?” Scaramouche sneers, but his voice wavers slightly—an uncertainty buried beneath his bravado. He steps into the brittle sunlight. You pause and glance back at him, briefly, then look away. As if bashful. You keep walking.
That’s all the invitation he needs.
He falls into a step behind you, a pace behind, arms crossed, gaze flickering to the pale roses and the skeletal trees that do not bend, but bow before you. There’s a swagger in the way he walks, like he’s above it all. Like he’s untouched by the frost curling around the marble path. And he is, but you’ve watched him before. You know what’s performance and what’s not.
Still, you say nothing.
You pause beside a marble bench, lightly running fingers along vines of frost-laden roses. He watches your movements closely, lips twisting into something bitterly amused. You sit with slow, deliberate ease
“You know they’re obsessed with you, right?” His voice is casual, but the sharpness cuts through it like a crack in porcelain. “Even the old man. Pierro talks about you like you’re prophecy in skin. Dottore's practically redesigning the definition of 'divine intervention’. Even her.” He doesn’t say Colombina but you hear it. “They follow you like moths circling a flame”
“It’s not because of what you do,” he continues, narrowing his eyes. “It’s because you don’t do anything. You just… exist. And they bend for you.” A pause.
“It’s pathetic,” he’s looking down at you, trying to provoke a reaction. “You’re not divine, you’re just silent. And they mistake that silence for wisdom.”
He’s expecting you to respond now. A glance, a sigh, something. Yet, you give him nothing.
He huffs, looking away, jaw clenched. “You don’t even…”
You tilt your head, studying him like how he is studying you, letting the silence stretch, bend. Before you lower your gaze, you give a faint smile and it reaches your eyes.
Then, finally—soft, barely audible:
“And yet here you stand”
It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him. The words are silk—smooth, unbothered, dangerous. He freezes. For a breath, he forgets how to scowl. Then, without looking at you, he laughs once—short and dry. “So you do talk.”
You hum—just low enough to acknowledge the irony.
He hesitates. Then, from inside his coat, he pulls something small, leather-bound, worn soft at the edges— leather softened by nervous fingertips. It’s been carried too long. He holds it out, not as a gesture of peace, but something more brittle. Resentful. Curious.
A journal.
“Here,” he says. “Since you’re not saying anything. Might as well write something. Something real.”
You accept it silently, fingertips brushing against the warm leather. The leather is weathered, the clasp slightly bent. You open it with care.
The first page is empty except for a single, challenging line:
Write what they don’t want you to say.
You read it. Once. Twice.
You pick up the pen between the pages and tap the paper a few times. Thinking about what to write. Then you start.
Your fingers move with grace, tracing delicate letters— slow and deliberate. As if nervous to make any mistakes.
Scaramouche takes a step toward you.
His voice, laced with impatience breaks the fragile silence.
“I had no idea you had so much in that divine mind of yours. What are you writing now?”
Your hand pauses and you look up once again. Lazily, you turn the journal towards him. There, written neatly on the paper. Three simple words shimmer against the pale yellow paper.
03/1/████
Happy birthday, Balladeer
He flinches. His mouth opens to say something but closes again. Suddenly his eyes snap up, disbelief flashing beneath the surface of his cool facade. The mask slips.
“What?!” His voice rises, shrill. “What the hell is this supposed to be?” His voice cracks, panic threading through his usual arrogance.
You say nothing. Your silence is like snowfall: soft, white and smothering. Your knowing eyes, answers him without a sound.
Scaramouche’s eyes flicker wildly, torn between envy, confusion, and a flicker of genuine fear. His lips curl like he’s trying to laugh but there is nothing afterwards.
He suddenly spins on his heel sharply and storms away, little footsteps quick and brittle in the frozen silence.

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✮⋆˙The Abyss That Gnaws At My Heart ˙⋆✮
⭒⌒★ Yandere! khaenri'ans x Reader★⌒⭒
゜。♡𝐼𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒾𝒻...♡ 。 ゜
。꩜˚⋆Please tell me not to go, We've been here long. before, I live under your eyelids, I'll always be yours ⋆˚꩜。
Imagine Yandere Rerir... who falls in love with his nemesis after his rebirth
It's blood and bone over and over. She's been here before. Sometimes it feels like the only place she'll ever be. Rerir’s love is painful, like barbed coils ensnaring your heart. You despise him with every fibre of your body. Feel nothing but pure disgust as his lips melt onto yours, tongue slipping past your teeth to claim you. His hands rake across your flesh, leaving cuts and blood in their wake.
The wild hunt is always around you. Ambushing you wherever you may be. Seperating you from your allies. It’s in this darkness, this confusion, that Rerir appears. Toying with his little doll. Stealing forced kisses and leaving his essence marred across your body. Each scar evidence that you belong only to him. Sometimes you can still feel him opening your flesh, phantom pain that pulses with the abyssal powers of the sinner. His voice reverberates within your dreams, haunting you regardless of your state. He’s so sure you’ll surrender yourself to him wholly one day. He just has to scratch at your sanity a bit longer.
One day, you escape a wild hunt attack, only to find you now have a bizarre ring embedded on your finger. A moon with ragged spears piercing through it and a pulsing pink gen in the centre. Rerir flashes before you, pulling your wrist until you fall into his arms. “I have given you my prized possession. You now wear my heart.” He pulls you into the abyssal rip he’s made, his abyssal arms clawing at your body, pulling you deeper into the void. You scream, no one hears. Instead, it’s muffled by the sinner’s kiss.
Imagine Yandere! Surtalogi...who falls in love with a girl from another world
Imagine being a princess or just some spoiled, sheltered girl in another world. Who, for reasons unclear, Surtalogi, the great menace, the foul. falls for. Maybe you're his first contact upon entering your bizarre, beautiful planet. And rather than be frightened away by the extraterrestrial armour-clad giant in front of you, you instead begin to inquire about him. Query after query, your questions start to slither beneath his armour. Awaken dormant memories from a life left behind.
Who is he? Where did he come from? Why is he so tall and imposing? And for whatever reason, the Foul can't help but find your mannerisms cute. Out of naivety, you even try to help him find "the strongest on your plant" for him to fight. Believing it all to be an innocent hobby of his. Battle-crazed doesn’t always equal bloodthirsty, right? Oh, how naive you are. He can’t help laughing, lamenting about how easy life must be from your point of view.
Strangely, he should have destroyed your planet by now. But night after night, he comes to visit simply to bask in your sweet, innocent nature. Until one night, with tears drizzling down your gorgeous eyes, you tell your new "friend" that you are to be wed to some man whose name Surtalogi can't even bother to remember. Some hapless weakling. He tries to offer words of comfort to keep you content until your wedding day. And on such a fateful day, as you walk down the aisle. Surtologi begins his onslaught on your planet, ripping it to shreds. Destroying everyone and everything in his path. He saves a duel for your "fiancée," who is quick to cower and beg for his life, not even thinking about his bride. You stand behind him, shocked and stunned, yet still muster the ability to roll your eyes at your would-be husband. Watching as Surtalogi’s blade pierces his spine and splits his chest.
There’s a blood trail as the Foul walks down the aisle. A monster covered in abyssal energy. Prepared to claim his bride. "A wedding present, dearest," he utters while squishing your fiancée’s heart in his palm. Surtalogi slouches down. Iron claws digging into your sides as he kisses your lips. So tenderly it doesn't suit such a monster as he.
Imagine Yandere Vedrfolnir...who has fallen in love with King Irminsul’s daughter
It’s a silly crush he tries to remind himself. He should not spend so much time attempting to impress the princess with his prophecies. He should not stare at her so blatantly during court. It would not surprise him if the king ever caught him and sentenced him to enucleation. And yet still he looks at her with nothing but pure love, sickly tendrils coiling around his heart as he dreams of having you between his arms.
He sends his egale to spy on you when he’s not around. To peek through your window and watch as you partake in such mundane things. How utterly exquisite he finds you. Somedays, Vedrfolnir is over taken by a strong, strange hope. One not based on prophecies or glimpses of the future. But just hope that one day you will be his. That the kind would zealously marry off his daughter to his prophet. That Vedrfolnir can at long last hold you tenderly in his arms.
It’s been years since Vedrfolnir last saw his beloved. Five hundred to be exact. Somedays, while his crystallized body hangs in the air, moving with rhythmic momentum. He likes to think that you will find him, that you will kneel before him and join his order. He would make you his high priestess, his queen, his lover...
Imagine Yandere! Hroptatyr...who falls in love with a former student who is now a Hexenzirkel witch
He may be a prodigy, the mage of boundless knowledge. But is he not permitted to love? To long for a lover to hold in his arms. Probably not, he doesn’t think anyone would ever quite have an issue with his affection, although maybe more with his delicate, reserved personality. No, he doesn’t think anyone would deny him love...if only the man so often referred to as the wise hadn’t gone and fallen in love with a student at the very Universitas he runs. Hroptatyr longs for you from afar, always too scared to get too close. And then, when he steals the power of the abyss, he’s so certain he can have you now. And no one will dare stand in his way. Except someone, or rather something, does, Celestia itself sends its heralds to destroy Khaenri'ah, and once again, you are out of his reach.
Years later, too many for even Hroptatyr to keep track of. He finds you again. Now a powerful mage in your own right, keeping the company of dear Rhinedottir and her band of witches. My, how you’ve grown. It seems the years have been kind to you. And now he is ready, ready to finally make you his.
Imagine Yandere Dainsleif ...falling for his travel companion
Shortly after he and the traveler had parted ways, he’d come across a lone adventurer who’d been kind enough to offer him food and shelter at her camp. Only, after hearing all his wondrous tales of his adventures across Teyvat, you simply can’t let him go and beg the mysterious stranger to come traveling with you. To show you all the wonders
And for reasons unknown to even him, Dainsleif agrees. Maybe it’s the fatigue, the heart that’s broken more times than he can count. He should be all so weary of company by now, but there’s something about your presence. The friendship you offer so freely that has him eating out of the palm of your hand. Desperate for connection, for affection, for another person to simply be by his side.
After nearly a year of traveling together, of sleeping under the stars and scavenging for food out in the wild. The two of you happen upon a small village in Liyue, where you meet another man and fall in love. Of course, it hadn’t been so obvious back then. Dain still blames himself for being so naive to the signs. You’d begged him to settle down, to start a family of his own here. And yet you had never said that family would be with you. Dainsleif leaves; he still has his own plans that need fulfilling. He discards you in the village you seem to love more than him. It’s only when he sees you again, years later, that he realises he loves you. He has always loved you. Your ghost haunts him, phantom touch when he sleeps under the stars. Wishful kisses that never happened plague his daydreams. When Dainsleif thinks back to your first encounter, he blames his curse. He’d still been new to the curse of immortality and had yet to get used to its cruel longevity. He’d simply longed for a home, for someone who felt like his old friends, his brother, his travel companion. And you, wonderlust-struck, affable, you had answered that need so perfectly.
Only now that you have a husband and children, you’re a mother. And it would be all so cruel to rip you away from them...But then again, life had never been kind to him. Not when it turned his friends and brother into sinners. Not when it burned his nation to the ground. Not when it stripped him of his only companion left. And most certainly not when it gave your heart to another. No, Dainsleif decides then and there to take you back. No matter the blood he will have to spill to claim you once more. And who knows, maybe the harsh cruelty of reality will be good for you.
Imagine Yandere Rhinedottir...who falls in love with Albedo’s best friend
It is no surprise to her that her creation has developed quite a reputation in Mondstate, less so that he has blended in seamlessly with the humans, taking a few of them as close company. But it does surprise her how fast her cold, methodical heart beats when she spots you from afar. When her golden gaze falls upon you and her creation, and you collecting specimens in the cold, frozen domain of her other creations' corpses. In a way, she guesses there is some irony to this, some poetic justice she couldn't care less about. But from time to time, she can also feel Naberius’s heart race when their eyes land upon you. When they see you smile at a particular shade of a flower or the sweet taste of low-hanging fruit. She would be right to conclude that her other half is also starting to fall in love.
And maybe she is, too, in her own dark twisted way. Dreaming of tasting your flesh, your blood, your heart upon her tongue, the texture of the tender muscles between her teeth. Oh, she’s sure you would taste absolutely divine, and whatever part she takes, she knows she can so easily whip you up a new one using bioalchemy or Naberius’s powers.
Imagine Yandere! Albedo...who falls for a full-blooded Khaenri'ahn, cursed with immortality
He can not help but find little excuses to run to you with. Little alchemical miscalculation that can be regulated oh so easily if only he’d try. And yet he only wants to hear the answers from your mouth. To kneel with you in the pure ivory snow, as the frigid wind blows through your hair like windchimes. Listening to your sweet, ancient voice recount calculations and formulas from a bygone era that still withers deep within his artificial limestone bones.
“Well, back then, we used to reinforce our elixers with two parts salt to avoid deterioration and one and a half drops of liquid sulphur for elemental endurance. Oh, and we’d also... Albedo, sweetie, are you listening?”
He can not help the melancholy that wrenches his heart. He shifts ever closer to you. sly fingers reaching, trying to purloin a simple graze, desperate to feel the warmth of your body. Your gentle smile is so dotting, so utterly caring. Albedo likes to think of you as refined, having endured so, so much in your countless years alive. Having survived cataclysms and untold horrors, only to turn out so pure, so kind. So ethereally perfect. You’ve passed all the alchemical processes; you’ve reached the final stage. He can not help but look at you with the highest esteem, the grandest of wonder.
Would it be so wrong to call you mother? To rest his head on your lap and have you run your soft fingers through his hair. Would it be so wrong to imagine a life ancient and hereafter where he means the world to you. A world where you love him and care for him and would never abandon him as his creator did.
Imagine Yandere! Kaeya...wants you to be his queen
It’s hard not to offer you his heart on a silver platter. The new rookie knight enrolled in his division. You’re strong, wielding cyro with the same elegance and vigour that he does. He’d love nothing more than to freeze his fingers on your powers. Your frostbite is seeping into his veins and clawing at his heart.
“Keep this up, and you’ll be making vice-captain, one of these days,” he jokes as he watches you pull out your weapon from the seceased corpse of a hillichurl. He can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine. Masking his terror as his compatriot is slaughtered, he almost feels disgusted for wishing it were him. He imagines moaning as your blade pierces the tissue between his ribs. Pulling the blade deeper just so you’ll come closer to. Your cold lips meeting his icy ones. Frost on frost. Cryonecrosis.
Some nights, when the breeze blows through his window. When Favonius headquarters are especially dark. He likes to think that if, or maybe when, Khaenri'ah is restored. If he ever sits upon that mythical throne, then maybe you would sit by his side. Ruling as one. Protecting his homeland, his most cherished dream, alongside his beloved.
Imagine Yandere! Pierro...who falls in love with the Tsaritsa’s daughter
There should be little more than ice where his heart once grew. Hardened by the horrors he’s witnessed through his countless years. And maybe it’s just that, the pain that rattles within his bones that begins to grow so attached to you. Little ice princess, locked away within her frozen castle. Non the wiser to the terror outside her snowy domain, following in her mother’s footsteps while never seeing the grander picture the Queen Mother paints.
You’ve grown wary of his presence, you mother’s most trusted adviser, who seems to trail after you more than you mother. Who is always a heartbeat away. Who, you have reason to believe, is responsible for the disappearance and demise of any Fatui soldier that draws too close to you. There is never any blood on his hands, never any trace of death surrounding him. But the way his eyes lock upon you, possessive and obsessed, tells you the whole truth.
“You shouldn’t be wandering the halls so late, your majesty.” Even in the dead of night, he still looms. Ever present, like the snowflakes of Snezhnaya. “Am I not permitted to roam within my own castle?” you push, tone cold like icicles. “By all means, your highness roam. I simply wish to keep you safe.” You turn on your heels and walk away, but your heart drops when you hear the patter of his heavy footsteps behind you. He is always behind you, and can anyone really blame poor Pierro? After all he’s been through, all that he’s lost, can anyone in all of Teyvat and Celestia really blame him for trying to keep his beloved tsarevna safe?
Imagine Yandere! Arlecchino...who falls in love with a long-lost member of the Eclipse dynasty
It’s such a ridiculous notion to think there could ever be a restored Khaenri'ah where you and her rule side by side. Ending the war between the crimson moon and eclipse dynasties that led to her nation being destroyed in the first place. But much like the worn rabbit toy and Clervie’s necklace, Arleccino clings to this childish dream. Refusing to let it slip past her ash-worn fingers.
She looms in the shadows, following your every step. And when you know she isn’t there, can’t be there, her essence still radiates, like a flame that refuses to die out. Her sharp claws are always raking up your spine, tracing the curve of your neck. Your skin flushes under her touch, like fire and moon rays trying to melt your bones. “I love you, you know that, right?” Her lips are just as warm, ghosting over the shell of your ear. If she notices you trembling, she doesn’t care. It’s okay for her sweet little bunny to be scared of her, to tremble beneath her flames. It all pays testament to how she’ll keep you safe.
Imagine Yandere! Capitano...who falls in love with a Khaenri'an princess
He watches the blood drip from his blade, cascading rhythmically onto the crimson-marred ground. The bodies have piled up, their blood mingling like rivers pouring into the ocean. He’d gladly slay any dishonourable heathen who dares threaten you, any rogue scum who plots against you. And Thrain knows his loyalties must lie solely to the crown, to the king above all else. Yet, he knows you would sever your father’s head and hand you his crown should only you ask for it.
the youngest daughter of the Vinster king, a royal with no claim to the Eclipse throne. He had always felt this need to shield from the very first day your father introduced you at his court. That urge only grew stronger as he’d catch wayward glimpses of you sneaking around the knights' training grounds. You’re too troublesome for a bearer of the title princess. Frolicking around the gardens after dark. It’s a chore at first for the Captain to follow you around, desperate to ensure your safety. It’s his duty after all, whatever would he tell your father should you get yourself kidnapped, hurt or worse. Yet with every passing evening, his heart can not help but throb ever more desperately for his sweet, peculiar princess.
“You should teach me how to wield this thing, sir knight,” you declared one night as you hoisted up your father’s sword. Thrain is taken aback. Had you always known he was there? Slowly, he emerges from the shadows, eyes downcast. “M’lady, you shan't ever need to wield any such weapon, for my blade is ever in your service.” You smile at him so warmly and gentle. “Then at the very least you could keep me company.”
The eligible heirs of the court's nobles tend to wind up dead one by one. Any boy your father seems to choose for you to court. Is no sooner found slain in some back alley or deserted pathway. You're beginning to think you’re cursed, the castle staff whispers of dark forces that follow you around. And yet only Thrain knows the truth. He knows that no conspirators against the crown, no haughty noble heirs, no one in Khaenri'ah or above, not even Celestia itself, will ever pry you away from him.
And he would have swallowed your essence, harboured your soul within his decaying heart. Merged you inside himself, keeping his dear princess safe between the bones of his ribcage. Yet alas, the cataclysm sees to it that you slip through his fingers.
It’s only years upon years later that Capitano sees you again. Not as a phantom or a fleeting dream. But standing right before him, as the Tsaritsa introduces her daughter to her frozen court. The reminiscence stings like ice in his veins. He’s reliving the moments, choking on the bitter nostalgia. Have the heavens, so cruel and aloof, actually taken mercy upon an abhorrent khaenri'an by granting him his love once more?
He swears he’ll protect you this time. Keep you tethered to him, safe and sound. He’ll never let you leave him again. Capitano’s world stops as you stand in front of him. He melts to the ground as you present him with your hand to kiss. The warmth of your flesh upon his lips is the closest he’s felt to being alive in over five hundred years.
What are they feeding these Khaenri'an men!! Why do they all look so delicious 😭😭 and why do they all look like they'd be the perfect Yanderes! I mean, I was already down bad for Capitano and Rerir....but I think I'm also mega crashing on Surtalogi. And he's not even released yet😭😭 and let's not forget my first Genshin crush Kaeya, boy was the love of my life for so so long and then I lowkey forgot he existed 😅😅!! Also, Pierro is kinda hot too. The only one I've never really crushed on is Dainsleif idk why
I Lowkey want an x fem!reader where she seems to be very close with the males often like a romantic gestures only for her to end up being a lesbian and collecting a female harem
Mf pulling "miss steal yo girl"