Fire Emblem/Genshin Impact imagines

request from anon - "oooo! Can you write something where reader gets so anxious Kaeya and Tartaglia will backstab them at some point they vomit (you dont have to put in the vomiting part if you don’t want to) and start crying when they have a nightmare where they do that? With some comfort and reassurance too?"

a/n - aww nonnie :( as someone with trust issues, this hits home way too hard LOL i hope i did your request justice! (also i'm really interested that you chose kaeya and childe for this, pretty intriguing in a good way :>) (also also additional note PFBFBT dreams are going to be in italics!)

pairings (separately!) - kaeya alberich, childe/tartaglia x gender neutral reader

word count - 3814

genre - hurt/comfort

format - drabbles

warnings - nightmares, vomiting, descriptions of betrayal, descriptions of gore, spoilers for kaeya's background, childe kills the reader in his version of the nightmare, use of petnames (darling, sweetness, dove, doll, sunshine, sweetheart, cutie, angel), NOT proofread kinda in a rush rn, subject to editing later!

summary - after a horrendous nightmare where the man you love betrays your trust, he's there (the real him), to remind you just how much he cares for you

black slime oozed from every corner and crevice of your surroundings no matter where or how far your eyes wandered. charcoal smoke rose from the ground and manifested into thick vines that had your legs and arms frozen in place. words tasted funny in your mouth, akin to the bitter flavor of spoiled milk or moldy fruit.

you'd never felt fear like this, fear so potent and so vile that you could feel every graze of adrenaline in your veins and every pound of your heart within its bony cages.

he stood in front of you, a menacing grin etched on his lips as he twirled a blade around the dents and bumps of his hands: the same hands that brushed away your tears and caressed your skin.

blood began to dribble from your nose and settled on the roof of your lips, which parted to ask him a flurry of questions only to be met with blinding silence. your voice had no ground to wander, your body felt as though it had been suspended in thick oil, and your eyes drooped with an unyielding weight that threatened your consciousness.

the dagger in his hand pointed itself to the line of blood from your nose and gently traced against your skin, collecting the irony blood onto the cool metal. your legs begged for you to run, flee far, far away from his malicious eyes and demonic smile. yet even if you wanted to, your legs remained rooted in place, seemingly bound by your affection.

the man who stood in the middle of the blackened room, examining your blood on the tip of his blade, was not the man you loved, not at all.

content utc!

→ heyhey! may I request childe with a reader who has depression, and so one day just clings onto him and sobs into his shirt about how terrible her life is and how she feels not good enough for him? thank you

more often than not, heroes are not allowed the luxury of selfishness -- one with a reputation that precedes them never has a fair shot at a free moment, after all. on even the busiest days, a helping hand is only a reflex, and the gratitude that comes with it plays like a broken record. over and over again, the same words bounce in your ears.

you just don’t know when they became not enough.

the child in you revels at being a hero, at being someone that people can look up to, someone that people cherish. but being such a figure doesn’t just mean being recognised everywhere you go, it doesn’t mean a comfortable place amongst your new peers -- the thanks you receive are twisted by a blindness few are aware of, and even fewer recognise.

because in reality, you are powerless. powerless to say no, powerless to take grateful words to heart. but most of all, you are powerless to change. the world moves on. issues are fixed, relationships are mended. but every wanton smile you share is utterly stuck in the past, in a time where everything stands still.

yet, when you’re with him, it’s hard to say you feel trapped. the smiles you share come easy, and the pieces of the past you choose to connect on seem more than performatory -- perhaps the harbinger is truly as aberrant and broken as yourself. but no matter the conditions you meet under, the cobwebbed corners of your mind see the light when his eyes meet yours, cutting through your being like a cleansing blade.

it’s why you call yourself his, why you love him so dearly; because he is the only one who does not thank you for simply being human.

overworked hands cling onto soft cotton; a gentle pull as if to remind yourself just who stands in front of you. childe’s gaze is heavy over your closed eyes, silently asking all of the questions you have always been too afraid to answer.

“what are you doing?” he asks you this carefully, neck craning in an attempt to get a better look at your face. instead, you hide your expression in the crook of your hands, reluctant to look him in the eye.

a hand comes up to cradle the back of your head -- a silent action that respects your wishes blindly.

“you act so big for a person so small,” a frown twinges at the edge of his voice. “you can’t work yourself until you have no choice but to break down.”

you don’t respond, a sob building up in your throat and blocking everything you need to say. wordlessly, you bring your hands down from his collar, allowing him to pull you flush to his chest. something cracks in you at that moment, be it a spark or anything greater. it is soft; unimaginably so. but the pool of emotion in your chest takes it and muddles it, hiding any lustre you gain beneath a murky haze.

you attempt to chide him, but your tone wavers. “you’re way too good for me.”

childe says your name with quiet reverence, pulling your head to rest on his shoulder.

“between the two of us, you are the hero that gave the villain a chance. neither of us are too special when it’s just me and you.”

you sigh against the side of his neck, arms finally going up to wrap around his torso. however, he catches you mid-action, pulling back to at last look you in the eye. his sapphire gaze catches yours with a fiery disposition, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he thumbs away a tear that persists down your cheek.

“i think i know what’s bothering you.” he nods solemnly, betraying the look of relief that passes over his face. “and i think you could stand to take a page from my book.”

you can’t help but laugh at him, at his silly ideas as you lean into his touch. “you crazy harbinger, i would be arrested if i took a page from your book.”

he nods. “you can do this easily already. refuse me, remind me that it’s your life to live.”

“childe-”

a thumb rolls over your cheek “continue.”

you thin your lips, quirking a doubtful brow. nevertheless, you nod your head. “i told you that i can’t.”

he says your name gently, reminding you, “your life is what you make of it.”

Aah, the old Vampire Dilemma lol. I've given this a bit of thought, and while I don't have any hard and fast ideas about it, here are my general headcanons-

I guess sort of a spoiler warning?? Idk man if you're reading about Seteth this long after the game's release, I feel like you either know or have been spoiled already...

- For one, he wouldn't even BEGIN to consider it until you start to show the earliest visible signs of aging. Not like wrinkles or anything- but the stuff that tends to happen in your late 20's, early 30's. A bit of grey hair, maybe a bad joint or two, that kind of thing. Seteth, by all accounts, seems like someone whose thoughts and feelings are somewhat inert, in that they're not likely to move or change without an outside force acting upon them. So he probably assumes that he'd rather you live a normal life and pass naturally, and he only starts to think otherwise when the signs of the limits of your human life and body begin to show themselves outwardly.

- There is going to be a LOT of in-depth negotiation about this point even then. Even if you insist to him that you WANT to live alongside him, even if it means watching others age and die, he's still going to make sure the conversation stays open for years so you have time to fully understand what you're asking for. He's also going to discuss it with Flayn, as having you in his life for that long means you're in HER life for that long as well.

- for the record, I think Flayn is super into the idea, but does her best to put on a calm and reasonable front about it. She wants to assure you and Seteth both that she takes this seriously and is being level-headed, but... she's just so excited at the idea of having another person to stay in her life for more than just a fraction of time.

pairing: kazuha x gn!reader genre: fluff warnings: none summary: you and kazuha watch fireworks together notes: somebody help me i have fallen for kazuha. he is just so?? lovable? this fic was inspired by the song forever after all by luke combs. look, i am not a hopeless romantic but this song gave me butterflies so this was the result <3 still getting in the groove of writing again but i hope you enjoy this! 

“Come on, Kazuha! We’ll miss it!” You say, voice filled with excitement. The man being dragged underneath the sakura trees of Amakane Island can only chuckle at you in adoration. 

“We still have time, love.” He assures you but your pace never stopped and you continued running, yanking the poor samurai.

You both stop at the small cliff that overlooks the beauty of Inazuma, sakura leaves falling on your figures. The sea dyed with aquamarine beneath the land where it stood erect, reflects the city’s glowing anticipation for the Naganohora fireworks show. The trees sway with the gentle breeze and above the plummeting pink hues, was a sky filled with stars that twinkle in silence. You breathe in the cool wind that tickles your skin, eyes closing at the sudden pause of nature that engulfs both of you. 

Kazuha stares at you with fondness. His vermillion orbs reflecting the brilliant color of love. You looked captivating underneath the glow of the moonlight. You shone brighter than the moon dust underneath you and a small smile makes his way to his lips. He squeezes your hand that was tightly interlaced with his. 

Let things be this peaceful forever. 

A small gasp escapes your lips as you heard the whirr of fireworks shooting up in the air. It’s starting! You open your eyes to see the colors of the rainbow twinkling alongside the stars that littered the night sky. The shimmers of light paint the black canvass with blooming flowers and the glow of fireflies, before ceasing to exist, as if they were never there. 

Fireworks are nothing but a fleeting beauty. But no matter how transient these things were, the people of Inazuma always stop what they are doing to marvel at the momentary radiance it sketches on the night sky; a clear contrast to their land’s name. What an irony. The people of the nation of eternity enamored with things that are temporary. 

“Y/N” Kazuha calls your name after the last firework bursts in the air. “Hmm?” You turn to him, a small smile adorning your face. 

Everything in life is temporary, so they say. Clothes, you’ll outgrow. Swords will lose their shine and will soon dull. People will come and go. Just like fireworks that sparkle with passion will soon be one with the darkness of the sky. 

But transience is what makes life beautiful and exciting no? 

Kazuha cups your cheek, while slowly leaning in, his lips connecting to yours; warmth blossoming in his chest, brighter and fervor than the fireworks that buzzed earlier. You lean in to the kiss, closing your eyes; heart swelling at his sudden gesture. Underneath the pink hues of sakura leaves, and the effervescent glow of the moon and its dust, a seal of love is shared between the two of you; a silent vow. 

A fleeting boom of fireworks; A fleeting kiss; a fleeting life. 

Sooner or later, time will take its toll.  

But to Kazuha, one thing is for sure. 

Some things last forever. 

Xiao is really good at braiding hair, I will not elaborate

HELLOOOO *falls down several sets of stairs*

THIS IS SO TRUE <3

writing a drabble for this bc it is so Powerful

• olivia (fire emblem awakening) icons •

Something has changed.

It’s only a slight change, but Baal is the goddess of eternity, and even the most imperceptible shift in the world around her does not escape her notice. Perhaps this is doubly so when it comes to you, her closest ally, her confidante, her love.

You’re distant recently. Your smiles are shaky, forced, and she has been planning to speak to you about it, but her duties as Archon and ruler of Inazuma have kept her from interacting with you long enough to properly discuss the matter.

But she has time now—she has made time, between her duties and yours, and had a dinner prepared. And so the two of you are alone, and she intends to resolve whatever is between the two of you, so the moment the two of you begin to eat, she says, “You’ve been acting strange recently.”

Your expression stays neutral, and your voice steady as you respond, “I have no idea what you mean.” Indeed, you could have fooled anyone with your demeanor.

Anyone but your lovely goddess. She takes a sip of her drink, watching over the rim as you lift the food to your mouth. She puts her glass down. “Your hands are shaking.”

You’re silent for a moment, then you smile, and it’s warm like it always was before. “Nothing gets past you, my love.”

She smiles back at you. “Now, tell me the truth.”

“I’m so tired lately. The resistance has been fighting tirelessly, and work keeps piling up.”

Baal hums, nodding slightly. “Yes, I understand that feeling well.”

“And worst of all is that I’m separated from you.” You finally look at her—really look at her, and your expression is so sad and genuine as you say, “I miss you.”

Her calculating, professional demeanor melts away, now that the root of the problem has been exposed. “Is that what this was about? I was worried I’d upset you. You need only have asked, and I would have been more than happy to give you my full attention.”

You clear your throat and glance pointedly at the servants in the room. “I think this conversation should be continued somewhere more private.”

“Yes. I think you’re right, my love.”

-

The conversation does not remain conversation for long, and that was to be expected. Baal had hoped from the beginning that whatever the matter was would be resolved and the two of you could end your night in her bedroom, something that hadn’t happened often recently.

Conversation turns to flirting turns to her lips on yours, your hands grasping desperately at her, and Baal can hardly remember what was being discussed, lost in the feeling of your touch and the warmth of your body—

Something’s wrong.

She can sense it. She doesn’t want to, not now, but then she parts from you and sees the glint of metal in the moonlight. In a flash, she seizes your wrist, her other hand ripping what you hold away from her.

A dagger.

She narrows her eyes at you, and your own are wide, terrified, staring back at her. She tries to force the ache in her chest out of her mind as she speaks. “Well, my love? Do you have an explanation for yourself?”

She wants to see anger in your eyes. Hatred. Disgust. She wants a reason to cut you down, because even if this was a shift in her world, a loss of something that should have been eternal, if you hated her, she could tell herself it was necessary. Berate herself for believing your honey-coated lies. Convince herself it would never happen again.

She sees only the same sadness from before. “Please,” you plead. “Please let me explain.”

“No.”

You don’t listen, and Baal doesn’t make an effort to stop your rambling because she wants to know. She wants so desperately to understand why. “My love—“

“Don’t call me that,” she growls, and she can hear her own heart shattering in the way her voice wavers, see it reflected in your eyes when she snaps at you.

You continue, softer this time. “You hurt so many people with this decree. People are suffering, losing parts of themselves, losing the ones they love for your vision of eternity. I didn’t want it to come to this. I tried…tried to find another way, but you’re so convinced of this mission that you’re willing to crush anyone who stands in your way.”

Through bared teeth, Baal says, “Enough. I’ve heard enough.

“I am willing to crush anyone who stands in my way. You are no exception.”

-

But you are.

Baal gave you to her guards while she decided what to do with you, what would be a suitable punishment for someone who earned her trust only to break it so completely.

And she finally settled on the only thing she could do.

She returns to you only a day later, and pretends not to care about the bruises that now litter your skin, pretends that she does not still feel the urge to embrace you, whisper to you that it would be alright. Her love for you cannot get in the way of her goal, and if you insist on standing in her way yourself, she will simply have to treat you as any other enemy of eternity.

“Baal,” you say, and she thinks you might reach for her if only your hands were free. As it is, your hands are bound and when you try to stand, a guard shoves you back to your knees. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

She stops only a few feet away, her eyes never leaving you as she holds out a hand to the guard. “Give me the vision.” The guard is quick to obey, tearing it away from your hip and hurrying to give it to Baal.

Taking the power from your vision is the easy part—she’s done it over and over again, a routine that makes it easy for her to fall into the usual steps, to forget for a moment that it’s you she’s stealing the life from this time. To forget the ache in her chest that hasn’t left since the moment your betrayal was discovered.

When all is said and done, your eyes open with a dazed expression, like you’d just woken from a slumber. You blink, and make to move when you find your arms are bound. The panic is clear in your eyes as you struggle with your bonds for a moment, then look wildly around you, taking in your surroundings. “Where am I?” Finally, your eyes settle on her. “Who are you?”

For a moment, Baal falters, and while she always knew what taking someone’s vision did to them, it was different to see it, to hear it from the lips of someone she loved, to know that she was so entangled in your ambitions and visions of your world that memories of her could not be separated from memories of your aspirations. To know that she took something so precious to you, and that she was just as significant as that.

How bittersweet, to know now that it’s too late how important she was to you. She’s taken everything from you—and in doing so, taken everything from herself.

kazuha always said that “poetry for poetry’s sake tends to lack meaning.”

there were some meaning to those words, for he himself would never go out of his way to write a haiku for the sake of writing a haiku, just as he’d never go out of his way to fish just to fish.

though, he seems to break the poetry rule when he finds himself writing about you in his small notebook that he keeps tucked in his pants pocket. in it contains small poems dedicated to you, where he describes your hair and how it prettily blows in the wind on a cool night; your eyes and how they seemed to sparkle so brightly on the day when beidou took you to inazuma; the way your face lit up when you obtained yet another element in teyvat.

it seemed he could write about you for centuries, to make sure your beauty carried through the winds in the form of maple leaves or onikabuto zipping through the air and up into the boundless sky so that even the stars will whisper of your nature to those in different worlds.

poetry for poetry’s sake lacked meaning, yes; but poetry for your sake seemed to carry more meaning than anything.

he lays draped over you, snoring quietly as his ears tickle your chin. it causes you to stir in your sleep, eyes groggily opening to see him laid out on your chest. gorou looked much too cute; you resist the urge to pet his hair.

his ears perk up as he senses you shifting, one eye opened as he checks to see if you were okay. once he sees you, awake and safe, he grins.

"you're up early," he mumbles, nuzzling closer into your neck. gorou lazily mouths against your neck, causing you to giggle. his lips were soft. "the sun hasn't risen yet, surely we could lay here for a bit longer."

"we worked hard yesterday," you yawn, scratching behind his ears. gorou whimpers, wanting more of your affection. his face feels hot against your skin. "i suppose we don't need to be the first ones at training this morning."

Omgg Anon what a blessed concept~

Sylvain understands the tragedy of noble marital politics better than most, and when news of your engagement gets out, he feels his heart drop into his stomach. It feels like a part of his own future has been gutted- a future that he had no right to even hope for. And yet, still you would come to him for a chance at real intimacy. It almost feels even more cruel than leaving you entirely to the arms of another.

But he knows he'll regret it for the rest of his life if he can't have you for his own just this once.

He's gentle with you- so tenderly, achingly gentle. He holds you close to him and kisses you deeply, as though you're truly his and his alone. And for tonight, you are.

The night can't possibly be long enough for him to pleasure you in every way he wishes he could- but damned if he's not going to try. His head dips between your thighs, his tongue thrums steadily against your most sensitive nerves- and you weave your fingers through his mop of red hair and pull him close like he always imagined you would. Like he knows he'll remember for the rest of his life.

After his tongue, his fingers spread you open, working you slowly and gently. There's not a hint of hesitation or misgiving when he asks if you're okay, of you're sure you want to continue- he means it- he wants you to love this. He's never been this caring with a lover before (all past flings were merely passing fancies after all), but it's so easy to be this way with you.

At long last, he kneels over you, and he can tell by the way you gaze back up at him that you're just waiting for him to claim you. He catches his breath, but steadies himself, and presses one last lingering kiss to your lips. Then, without another word, he very slowly enters you.

And even though it's your first time with a man, you know it will never feel like this again.

Your bodies easily fall into a natural rhythm. It starts slow- his hips push and pull like overlapping waves. You gasp out his name and his arms wrap around you more tightly, one hand snaking up your back to tangle his fingers through your hair. You moan aloud that you want more- you want him harder. He abides without question, thrusting more deeply into you.

And after a time spent in pleasured bliss together, you feel his entire body tense. He bucks into you to the hilt- once, twice, then he groans into your neck and barely pulls away, spilling his release across your inner thighs. It's hot, and there's so much of it- far more than you'd expected. Sylvain mutters an apology, but you touch a hand to his cheek and smile.

"don't apologize, Sylvain. It's you. I adore this feeling. If only..."

He gently hushes you as he lies at your side and draws you to his chest. His heart is still pounding, but he makes an admirable effort to level his voice.

"Don't think about 'if only.' I'm here now. I'm right here for you."