#rxse4u

pairing: zima, medicine pocket x gn!reader [sep.] note: fluff a/n: changing the book holds to request bc i just realise it's actually confusing, but thanks for the request, sweetheart! wc: 0.5k

зима [zima] wasn't really one for emotions. he preferred to keep them to himself and go on and about with his life. but, when you chose to make an appearance in his life, he had to change his way of thinking. it wasn't a secret that his eyes would follow you whenever you passed by, silently wishing you would come over and ask about his day. if he was honest with himself, he wasn't scared to talk to you. he just wished it was easier to express his feelings. yet, he realised he couldn't let that stop him from talking to you. so, zima follows behind you for a while, waiting for a moment to talk to you. once he sees his chance he trots over, tapping you on your shoulder as his chickadee ruffles its feathers. his heart swells with warmth when his eyes meet yours, and for a moment he thinks he's about to pass out. but he holds onto himself, hopefully for a while. “hey, could you... look at my poem...?” his words come out better than expected, and he's even prouder of himself when you accept his proposition. he hands you a page, it's littered with words like how snow stains the rooftop of houses. you grasp it a bit tighter, as if the words would fall off in a single breath. your eyes run over the page, and something ticks you as peculiar. the words seemed to always relate back to you. whether it was your eye colour, the texture of your hair, or even your choice of fashion. your eyebrows knit together, the poem seems as if it was written for you. zima stands patiently, watching your expression as you read his poem. it isn't until you reach the bottom of the page, you take notice of the smallest print you've ever seen. and if you squinted, just the slightest bit, you could make out your name with a heart beside it.

Зима [zima] stood quietly off to the side, eyes scanning the milky snow for something he could focus on. you were chatting with a vendor, laughing softly as you guys talked over the prices and other things. though, zima tried not to let it bother him, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling you preferred the vendor's company over his. his chickadee ruffles its feathers, turning away from your direction and choosing to peck at zima's coat. irritated, zima grumbles, exhaling a long breath that crystallises into a trail of fog in the air. he watches as it dissipates, silently wishing the same thing could happen to the man you were talking to right now. his gaze falls back down to the ground, and he crouches down, deciding to write in the fresh fallen shimmer. forgetting that he had been writing on paper a few hours before, ink from his gloves stains the snow. a dark trail following his pointer finger as he prints letters in the snow. he rubs his eyes after a while, a yawn leaving his throat as a small shiver runs down his spine. your conversation with the vendor must have ended by now, no? although, zima doesn't bother to look, too engrossed in his snowy creation. he doesn't notice when you stroll over to him, kneeling down beside him in the snow and ruffling his hair. zima's gaze meets yours, fatigue pooling behind those silver depths. his lips turn into a pout when you withdraw your hand, missing the warmth you provided momentarily. his chickadee seems to brighten up once it recognises you, flying over to rest on your shoulder and nuzzle your neck. a gentle laugh escapes your lips, as you run your fingers lightly over the bird, returning its affection. zima remains silent, rather wiping the excess snow off his glove. zima wanted to question you on why you had spent so long with that man, you two seemed to be talking as if your lives depended on it. why, it had made his stomach twist, his fists clenching so hard his nails would have pierced his palm if not for his gloves. it wasn't until your hand rested over his did he notice how unsettled he was. zima sighs heavily, his eyes falling down to the snow where his small work of art was. you follow his gaze, grinning when you see what he's drawn. in the snow, he had clumsily drawn a heart with your name etched inside of it. as if he had never even attempted to draw the heart and just perfected the way he printed your name. it causes you to almost chuckle, but you're afraid he might take it the wrong way. nevertheless, you appreciated the effort he had put in. so you remove one of your gloves, writing his name in the snow and drawing a heart around it as well. it took a while for zima to realise his heart speeding up, placing a hand over his chest as if in fear you could hear it.  zima's envy for the vendor had dissolved into thin air, leaving him wondering why he had felt that way in the first place. as he stood up, zima wiped off the excess snow off his scarf that had collected from it brushing the ground. you followed suit, getting up and putting your glove back on. zima paused, lazily scanning you, until his hands gently cupped your cheeks. drawing you closer, your lips meet his in a heartfelt kiss. putting in all the energy he had left in his weary, ridden body, before pulling away.

pairing: Il Dottore, Pantalone, Childe x f!reader [sep.] note: not proof read, mention of syringe/needle a/n: trying to get into more genshin content, and decided to reuse an old hc with different characters wv: 0.8k

Il Dottore liked your clingy side. A lot. This sick individual always enjoyed knowing he had someone who wanted to be near him 24/7. It gave him a sense of pride. Another useless swell in his ego that he clearly didn't need. Although, he also liked your clingy side because he wasn't one to let his lover go with just anyone. So you would often spend your days watching as he experimented. Even sometimes helping him as an experiment.

Dottore would have you snug on his lap. Your head cradled to his chest as he rubbed your back in small circles. You had been failing to get sleep lately, and he put together something for you to be able to fall asleep better. He knew you didn't like needles, so he always tilted your head the other way whenever he would pick it up. Slowly, he would place the syringe over your arm. Making sure to be to hum softly as he injected it into your skin, so you wouldn't pay attention to the little prick. It was done in just a second. You had thought it had never happened in the first place. But the effects say otherwise. They kicked in really fast. Causing your eyes to get drowsy as a yawn escapes your throat. Dottore's humming was doing a big favour in aiding the drug. So he wasn't surprised to feel when he felt your body finally drop against his, your shallow breathing emitting into the air. A small smile crossed his face, hidden behind his mask, as he picked you up. Holding you in his arms bridal style, as he ventured off to your room. “Sleep well, love.”

Pantalone didn't just enjoy your clingy side, he thought it was necessary. What else would he do when he needed a soft warmth after a long day, something plush to cuddle, or rather someone. He wasn't ashamed to admit such. He wanted you to know he needed you. Every day was nonstop kisses and cuddles, he wasn't afraid to show affection, but he would prefer to keep it private with you. On the days, he did arrive back to you. Tired and stressed, yet, maintaining a smile, he just had to pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arms snug around your waist as you blinked back slumber from your eyes.

“How was your day...?” you mumbled, staring up at him with those adorable doe eyes of yours. He let out an audible sigh, pulling you closer to him and mumbling a “tiring” in response. You nodded, understandably so. Even though you wanted to kiss his fatigue away, you were exhausted as well. And, you couldn't help but fall asleep. Your features soften as you fall into a dreamland. Pantalone was confused, not realising you had fallen asleep but choosing not to comment on it. Pantalone runs a hand through your hair, melting at the feeling as his eyes flutter close. You were his everything. His all. His one and only. As long as you were in his arms, he would be content. All he knows is if he's dreaming, he's 100% sure he doesn't want to wake up.

Childe was always the energetic one. Often, he needed you to bring him back down to his senses. Always wanting to challenge others, and get into useless fights. It was even worse when those fights were over you, it made you cringe whenever you had to patch him up, purposely not being careful as you stitched his wounds. It wasn't that you weren't grateful for him, but you just didn't know how you were going to carry this bundle of excitement waiting to burst for your entire life. Okay, now that you realise it, the idea actually doesn't sound so bad. Come on? Some sunshine in your life is something everyone needed. And for you, that sunshine was Childe. This man who clearly hadn't grown out of his childhood yet, finally happy he found someone he could share this side of him with.

Pairings: Blade, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, & Welt x gn!reader Note: Kisses, hugging, hair pulling, name calling. A/N: I just realised I'm really bad at writing the little notes, if I forgot something, do tell. <3 + Pls correct me if you see a grammar mistake, I won't be offended. + I feel like Welt & Dan Heng have such a poor sense of humour, to the point where it's sad. Word count: 1.0k

Blade adores your defiance, finding your foolish antics absolutely lovable. He couldn't help but roll his eyes dramatically when you scrunched up your nose, shaking your head as you rambled off your crazy thoughts. Your points wouldn't even make sense, just pure nonsense, and he loved it. Talking to you was like conversing with a brick wall, well, a brick wall with a loud mouth. You would rarely ever admit you were wrong, even when you clearly were. But that just made Blade admire you more. Your crossed arms and defiant stance was definitely enough for him to want to teach you a lesson on obedience. "So... you're telling me that the wind broke your necklace?" he raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing your story but wanting you to entertain him further, as he leans back into the chair, indifferent eyes gazing into yours. You nod eagerly, your hand idly reaching up to where your broken necklace would be resting, now absent from your neck. "Well, yeah. I was trying to put it on while walking, and it fell, but I hadn't noticed quick enough and stepped on it. But technically, the wind did cause me to make it fall. So like..." Blade can't help but let out a disappointed sigh as he shook his head slowly, unable to believe your attempt to avoid responsibility. He pulls you closer, resting your head on his chest as he tugs on your hair lightly. "You're an idiot, you know…?" You can't help but laugh softly, scrunching your nose as he tugs on your hair and letting a smile slowly creep onto your face. "Aw, c'mon. I'm your idiot. You know you love it."

Jing Yuan seems to find his love pouring out on your body rather than your qualities. Not that he doesn't love those too, he's just a more touchy-feel type of guy. If you're plus size, he'd litter kisses all over your curves, whispering sweet nothing's about how he loves every part of you. Or even if you were taller than him, he would pick you up and sling you over his shoulder. Letting you know that you may have beaten him in height, but most likely not in strength. He would never stop showing his love for your body. During the night, especially the nights after a day of working so long, he would climb in bed with you, making you sit in between his legs as he littered kisses along your neck, running his hands over your soft body, caressing your skin and only laughing softly as you whine in his arms. "Shh... I love you, you know?" he would whisper, his warm breath lingering on your neck as his lips kept their relentless assault on your sensitive skin, trailing downwards towards your collarbone. His hands massaging your hips, implying he wanted to probably hear more than just your whines tonight.

Dan Heng seems to like your hands the most. Never really stopping you when you wanted to touch or massage him. The slightest brush from your hands was enough to send his thoughts spiralling down a hole, a very dirty one at that. He'd adore them any way they are, whether your skin was softer than babies, or even calloused like his. He wouldn't mind either, for one elicited his admiration for your innocence, and the other showed years of hard work done that he couldn't help but love with his whole heart. Your touch was like a drug, especially when you would ask him to compare the sizes of your hands. He would most likely tease you for your hands being smaller than his, or admit defeat if they were bigger, either way he loved them regardless of size or feeling. The fact that they belonged to you was enough to make his heart melt. "Dan Heng, stop moving your head or else I'm going to tie you up." you muttered, running your hands through his hair as you washed it for him. He let out a groan and reluctantly stilled his movements as you massaged the shampoo into his scalp, his mind going crazy from your touch. He grumbled, trying his hardest not to grab you and kiss you right there and then, despite the possibility of getting the shampoo in his eyes. (which he hated) "My hair better be shiny when you're done, or else." he stares ahead as you roll your eyes, continuing washing his hair for him to help him relax.

Pairings: Gepard, Dan Heng, Luocha, Welt x gn!reader Note: fluff, mention of a small cut. A/N: not my usual writing because I rushed when I did this since I normally try and write something every three days whether I post it or now. sorry about that, but enjoy! Word count: 1.0k

Gepard would have been sitting beside you in the late evening, both of you admiring the reflective milky white snow that covered Belobog. It was something you two would often do, just enjoying the cold weather and even sometimes teasing each other if one of you started to shiver. The sky begins to paint a splash of colours as the sun makes its descent towards the horizon. Providing a sense of nostalgia as you wait for that small flash of green light to appear. Yet it didn't occur to you that maybe it wasn't the best idea to drink warm milk before you came outside and stayed up so late last night. Your eyelids start to feel heavy, and you decide to close your eyes a bit, but end up keeping them shut for too long. It isn't long until your body falls limp, and you lean over as your head falls in Gepard's lap. He flinches when he feels your warmth come in contact with his body, and his cheeks immediately change to a light pink. His gloved hands stay at his sides for a while, unsure of what to do with them, until he reaches out, using his fingers to trace patterns on your cheek. He doesn't know if he should wake you up so you can see the sunset with him, or to keep you asleep. He decides on the latter, thinking you probably need the extra rest. He leans over, pressing a kiss to your cheek while his body continues burning up from your touch despite the cold that surrounds you two.

Dan Heng often tried his hardest to spend time with you, even if it meant spending time in the passenger cabin where his room was located. Reading his book in silence as you laid in between his legs, staring out of the window aimlessly.

The view always captured your attention, drawing you in like a moth to a light bulb, but whenever Dan Heng started to read out loud, it always stole your attention away from the window. His smooth voice was melodious to your ears, rendering you helpless as your eyes started to flutter close. Your head soon dropped, your body going slack. He hadn't noticed at first, and continued to read, but when he realised you hadn't moved for a while, his eyes drifted down to your sleeping form. Albeit, he didn't take it lightly. Panic etched into his face when he couldn't hear your breath, a result of your shallow breathing, so he immediately resorted to trying to shake you awake. Throwing the book to the ground as his full attention was now focused on you. When you woke up, he couldn't help but wrap his arms around your shoulders. You couldn't help but feel surprised when he did so, not expecting his sudden display of affection. “What─ Did something happen while I was asleep?” you mumble, rubbing your eyes to adjust to the light. That's when Dan Heng registers that you weren't in fact passed out or dead, and he can't help as a soft laugh escapes his lips. He doesn't bother to answer and just hugs you tighter. Happy that he hadn't lost you.

Luocha finds himself relaxing in your presence. Well, he often seems relaxed anywhere, to say the least, but not as much so when it comes to you. He can't help but always roll his eyes when you come to him with the smallest cut on your hand, insisting on him to heal you. Although your fake concern does amuse him. He can never say he doesn't enjoy how you will purposely sit in his lap and play with the buttons on his turtleneck or twirl his hair in between your fingers while he tends to your injuries. Your eyes always end up finding his green ones, and you can't help but get lost in them. Paired with his comforting demeanour and soft hands that brush over yours when he's running a finger over the small cut, you can't help but faint in his arms. He's a bit surprised, yet it doesn't show on his face. He assumes you may have just been tired, and cradles you to his chest, his blond hair falling over your body and tickling your neck momentarily. He's not one for social ques and doesn't really understand why your body flinches at the feeling, he's confused now, not knowing if you're faking being asleep or if it's something else. He shrugs it off, and plants a kiss on your forehead, just content to be with you.

pairings: himeko, kafka, march 7th x gn!reader note: kisses, teasing, hair pulling a/n: Ik... same idea as last but yk I can't leave my lesbians and straight men in the dark >< Pray for me bc Kafka has got me in a choke hold 🧎

Himeko treasures your hair so much, never passing an opportunity to touch or play with it when you're near her. She's a sucker for it, especially when you would style or cut it. Sending a small shiver down her spine when you would walk by with a new hairdo. It was a sight she would definitely pay to see. She doesn't mind when it comes to work, she would most definitely pause and save it for later just to reach out and feel the texture of your hair, loving the smell of the faint shampoo staining the roots, or the scent of the Cantu you put in just a while before, it made her whole body tremble in endearment.

Even now, as you lie down with your face pressed into a pillow, you don't expect to feel Himeko's dark red hair fall over your neck as she peers over you. She reaches out and pulls lightly at your hair, not wanting to hurt you if you have any knots, but also wanting to just bury her hands in its soft warmth. You lift your head and grumble, but don't pull away as her hands entertain themselves in the strands of your hair. “Himeko...” you mumbled, shifting slightly as you pulled her in to lay down beside you. You wrapped your arms around her, nuzzling your head in her neck and planting small kisses along her skin as she laughed softly. “Sorry, you just have such pretty hair, take responsibility.” she whispers back, still keeping her grip on your hair strands as she breathes in its sweet aroma, her eyes fluttering shut as she falls asleep to the soft sound of your breathing.

Kafka loves your clumsiness, you're so stupid it makes her heart swell as she watches your dumb decisions end up with (sometimes terrible) consequences. It didn't take much for you to hear her low yet mesmerizing laugh when you did something stupid, whether in your daily routine or not. Yet, one thing she didn't know, was that you often purposely did it just for her attention. But... she doesn't need to know that. Not when you get lost in those hypnotic eyes, watching her red wine hair bounce as her shoulders shook from laughing so much. It made your heart race whenever your name rolled off her tongue, she was just perfect. Especially on missions Elio sent you two on, her steps graceful and hips swaying, forcing you to have to draw your eyes away, so she wouldn't catch you staring. Albeit, that didn't prevent you from falling flat on your face after tripping over your own feet. She turned her head, eyes focusing on your body before a small smirk crawled on her face. She made her way over, yet didn't offer a hand to you as she cooed in mock comfort. “Are you alright, sweetheart? Or did you get lost listening to the voices in your head?” You roll your eyes as you push yourself up and off the ground, dusting off your body as you pout. “Yes, I'm fine. And for your information, the only voice in my head is yours from last ni-” you're cut off when her eyes narrow, signalling you to be quiet. She lets out a disappointed sigh before turning around, walking away and leaving you with only the sound of her heels getting fainter in the distance. “Wait, no, I was just joking. Come on!” you squawk out in a meek attempt before scurrying after her to apologize, so she doesn't end up giving you the silent treatment for the rest of the day.

March 7th adores your face. It literally takes up a majority of her camera roll. Whether it's you stuffing your cheeks with food, or pouting as she snapped a photo of how you looked with make-up that appeared to be done by (her) a five year old. March didn't mind it, because her camera was supposed to be filled with memories anyway, she didn't specify what those memories had to be... March loves all the features of your face, whether it's chubby or slim, rough or soft. She's almost like Dan Heng, adoring it no matter what. Even if you would try to hide your face, her dainty hands would pull yours away, and she would whisper how much she loves seeing it every day. Not even giving you a chance to blurt out any insecurities because her compliments would cause your breath to hitch in your throat. In the morning, while March laid her head against your chest, snoring softly as if she was in wonderland, her hand instinctively reached up to rest on your face. You couldn't help but let a smile grace your lips as you rested your hand on top of hers, rubbing a finger lightly over her knuckles. Your eyes gazed over her face, her short pink hair sticking to her face and her mouth slightly agape as she drooled on your chest. Gosh, she's such an angel. You're about to shake her awake but notice her camera attached near her hip. A cruel thought crosses your mind as you reach out to take it, grinning mischievously. It's only a few hours later until a small laugh escapes her lips as you hear March whining about who took a picture of her drooling in her sleep.

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜

Pairing: Arlecchino x f!reader Note: Angst(?), attacking, proposal A/N: Hey, sweetheart! This is my first request actually, and I really hope it suits your interest. I've been on and off Tumblr for a few days so I apologise if you had to wait a while. Word count: 1.4k

The worry was starting to set in. It stabbed at your heart like a knife, but the only problem was, the pain just never went away. Arlecchino was arriving home late every day, hands tainted with the souls and lives of others. But, when they reached out to pull you closer to her, you forgot about all she had done. She had always been the more reserved one of the two of you. Keeping to herself, with details of her work rarely reaching your ears. But, you didn't really need to hear about it from her. The voices of others told you enough. Whispers and murmurs through the streets, clouding the air with a tinge of fear. Arlecchino's name could be heard through it all. You had nagged her about it. Constant reminders you didn't enjoy her line of work, her lifestyle. Still, she would shrug you off each time. Acting as if you were nothing more than a pest. You just wanted some peace. To not have to fear for Arlecchino's life whenever she stepped foot outside. Except, she didn't care much. She just wanted you to accept this was her life. And she couldn't just drop everything behind. However, you decided to nag her about it one last time.

Night falls, marking yet another day when Arlecchino arrives home late. You fiddle with your earring, the one Arlecchino gave you that she originally used to wear on her left ear. It was something you do often when you miss her. Remembering she still had the other earring on her right ear, “To remember we're still together, even when we're far apart.” she had said, you thought it was silly at the time but now you rely on it more than ever. The house has a deafening silence, with the sound of a lock turning erupting through it. In walks Arlecchino, no sight of emotion behind her eyes, but you can tell she's tired. You've been with her long enough to assess her demeanour, as did she with you. The moment your gazes meet, she lets out a long sigh. “What's bothering you, dear?” Arlecchino strolls towards you, taking your face in her hands. You know you can't hide how you feel. You're aware you're nagging her, but you just let the words slip your tongue. “Arlecchino, please. You know that I don't like that you still work for the Fatui. Could you just consider─” Your voice falls upon deaf ears when Arlecchino's hands fall from your face, her lips turning into the slightest of scowls. “I believe we already talked about this, dear. I can't drop everything behind. You know that already.” “But, Arlecchino─” “No! What part of that do you not understand, dear? Do I have to struggle with you like this because you can't listen to me?” You can't really argue with her there, your gaze drops to the ground, you don't want to have to meet those piercing eyes. The same eyes that used to follow you with admiration, now contain a flash of annoyance behind them. Arlecchino sucked in a sharp breath, before turning on her heels, making a beeline straight back towards the same door she entered. But, her stride falters for a moment when she hears a small sob leaving your lips. It tugged on her heart, making her feel guilty for not listening to you. Yet, she wasn't going to admit that. She was too proud. So, you were left alone. Enveloped in darkness, tears staining your cheeks with only the moon casting any light in your life. Was this how it would always be from now on?

Days, weeks, months passed and Arlecchino still refused to leave the Fatui. She wasn't one to do something without reason, but that bothered you. Weren't you a reason for her to do so? Didn't she care about the restless nights you spent in agony waiting to hear her come back home? It was wearing you down slowly, like chains tied to your feet that you couldn't get rid of. A burden that was heavy on your shoulders, gradually weighing you down. You walk down the snow stricken paths in Snezhnaya, the cold biting your skin harshly as shivers run down your spine. Maybe you should have worn extra layers. You trudge through the snow, eyes set ahead on your small journey. You bring your hands to your face, cupping your mouth and blowing on them. The gloves don't provide much warmth or protection, a useless piece of cloth that barely protects you from the uncaring cold. Most of your attention is set on warming yourself up until a whisper rushes past your ears. “Is that woman associated with The Knave?” you shuddered, all the warmth leaving your body at that question. Out of the corner of your eye, you see two people in black coats. They stand out too well against the milky white snow, not making any effort to hide their presence. You slow down, just enough to still have distance but be able to hear their conversation. “Doesn't the Knave wear those exact earrings?” your hand instinctively reaches up to feel the earring. Outlining the shape carefully, it was these times you often missed the feeling of Arlecchino by your side. You assumed these people were attentive, most likely adversaries of Arlecchino. Dragging behind wasn't the best idea, so you lengthen your strides, wanting to be as far away as possible. But, your heart fills with fear when you hear a shout. “Hey!” You don't look back, your feet take off in a quick sprint, but it's hard navigating through the snow. You have to shield your eyes with your hand to avoid being blinded by the light reflecting off of the snow. It isn't long before you lose your balance, your shoe getting caught on some snow that hardened over time. Falling face first, you quickly pushed yourself back on your knees. But, a strong kick to your back knocked all the wind out of your lungs. It wasn't long before you noticed the same two people in front of you. One has their hand wrapped tightly around the handle of a knife, already painted with the blood of a previous victim. Tears prick your eyes, blurring your vision slowly. You know you can't defend yourself, so you place your arms over your head, instinctively trying to make some shield between you and them. And you wait. Trembling as the cruel cold picks at your skin, as you wonder whether today will be your last day or not. But, that doesn't scare you the most. It's the silence that follows pursuit. The same silence you had become accustomed to when Arlecchino didn't arrive home, the same silence you would receive when you tried to voice your concerns. The same silence that haunted your head, an endless void of worry and distraught. You lift your head up slowly, your quivering arms falling from your head. You're met with Arlecchino's cold gaze, staring down at you, eyes pooling with worry. Your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes scanning the place before catching two figures darting off quickly into the curtains of snow. Arlecchino must have scared them off, you realise. But, she hasn't made a move to comfort you. Or even say anything. She's the first to break eye contact, her piercing red eyes falling down to her hand. Her grip is tight on a small red velvet box. She kneels in front of you, her other hand reaches out for yours. She flicks open the red box, revealing a ring. A ring of promise, a promise for the future and a promise to listen to you more. She slips the cool metal onto your glove, it fits well, surprisingly. Your hand still trembles in hers, and she can't help but bring it up to her mouth. Her lips plant a soft kiss on the textile, hoping to soothe your fears.