SFJEROGIJRTKB IT'S SO GOOODDDD

being mistaken for a married couple [genshin men] pt.2

scaramouche, ayato, thoma

WHY DID PEOPLE LIKE PT 1 SO MUCH THANK YOU

scaramouche is ten times longer once again. ALSO KAZUHA’S GOING TO BE IN THE NEXT ONE FORGIVE ME FOR NOT PUTTING HIM ON HERE IT WAS TOO LONG

ayato

“That one’s too simple, I doubt she’d like it.”

“That’s way different from her size!”

“She’s going to go ballistic if you give her a hot pink dress for her wedding day,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Honestly, Ayato, I didn’t think you’d be this hopeless when you asked me to help pick out a wedding dress for your friend.”

“Oh? Do I seem to be an expert in this field?” he suggests, eyeing yet another atrocious dress. You contemplate blindfolding him because at this point, that might be a better option. Just as he reaches for it, you slap his hand away to which he laughs. “I really am grateful for your assistance, truly. As you can probably see.”

“Oh, I see alright-”

“Young master, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

An older man, noticeably crouched over from age approaches Ayato, offering a healthy smile despite his stature. “I haven’t seen you in ages–much less somewhere like here.”

“It’s nice to see you again,” Ayato replies, then turning to motion to you. “This is Matsukushi, an old friend of mine.”

“I worked under him for quite some time,” the old man explains, then glances at Ayato. “Though I work selling wedding dresses now, those days aren’t all too far behind me. It seems a lot has happened since I left…I didn’t realize you were engaged.”

Your jaw drops. For a few moments, you convince yourself that Ayato had gotten himself an engagement unbeknownst to you, but considering he prefers being a hermit within his work, you highly doubt such a situation. When you realize what the man is implying, you shake your head frantically. “No, no, that’s not-”

“Eventually,” he says before you finish. “But unfortunately, not for myself today. It’s for a friends’ fiancee.”

At this, you can feel yourself drop the several dresses that had been clutched in your arms, barely allowing Ayato to grab them in time. Was this a proposal? Or was he indicating the far future that had no use in pondering on now? Thoughts flood your head rapidly, making you spin. The old man however, seems to be unable to read the room and nods. “Ah, I see, my mistake. Well please do call me if you need any aid.”

And when he vanishes behind the counter, you’re left dumbfounded staring at Ayato. Sure, you’ve thought about it–daydreamed–about it countless times after the extensive period of time you’d spent with him, but never realized the weight of it in actuality. As your mind repeats his words on echo, its only snapped out of its trance when he places a cool hand on your head.

“Boring way to find out, right?” he smiles. “This one doesn’t count though, alright? When I propose, I’ll do it properly. And if you’re still unsure then, I’ll do it as much as you need me to and I’ll be as patient as you need me.”

You can’t help but go weak in the knees. As a result, you don’t hear him when he says that he does know how to pick dresses. Maybe he just wanted to spend time with you.

scaramouche

He knows anybody who’s heard of his name would never dream of him being in a relationship–much less any positive association with another human being. From his sharp tongue to his cold nature, it’s practically impossible to imagine him being close with someone else.

Yet he makes an exception for his minions. Not just any of them, no, he finds most of them unbearably stupid and bothersome. Specifically, his assistant.

You move to glance around the market. He follows you closely behind, dressed in a more civilian like attire much to his distaste, after relentless begging on your part. He sees no point in dressing so plainly when he knows most people in this foreign nation don’t even recognize his identity as a harbinger. Still, he silently observes you as you anxiously grip the bag of mora he’d given you.

“Here’s the list,” he says, tossing you a sheet of paper which you barely manage to grab. “I’m staying here. Be back in 15 minutes or I’m coming after you.”

“My lord, this list is awfully long to finish in 15 minutes.”

He knows, he wants to say. He would follow after you anyway. “Is there a problem?”

“Well, I guess we are kind of in a hurry after you blew up your office.” The harmless bite in your voice should’ve boiled his blood to no end, but he only finds himself rolling his eyes. At this, he frowns. Perhaps he was being too soft on you.

You flash a bright smile and wave as you disappear into the crowd of people. He halfheartedly shrugs in response and turns to find a decent corner of alley to stay around before your return, but his plans are interrupted much rudely.

“Hello dear. Yes, you.”

He scowls at the soft voice calling for him from another stall. Though he glares at the old woman perched in the flower shop, she only smiles, her skin wrinkling with old age. “Would you like a flower?”

“No,” he replies immediately, turning to leave, but she only lets out a soft laugh.

“I’m sure your partner over there would love it,” she says. “Our flowers are freshly picked you know. And spring’s in full bloom–you can’t get flowers any more beautiful than these.”

He wishes she’d shut up, considering that with a snap of his fingers he could order someone to pick up a thousand flowers from an entirely other region. Especially since the flowers don’t live up to his standards in the slightest. However, he quickly snaps out of his analyzation of the flowers, shaking his head. “We’re not like that. Don’t assume such a-”

“Ah, then you must already be married!” she blinks. “My apologies, I didn’t know.”

Even he’s almost at a loss of words, unsure if he should spit out foul words or simply walk away from the scene. But before he can even decide, she hands him a blue iris. “Here you are. A token of congratulations. These symbolize faith and hope.”

“We’re not-”

“My lord!” your voice tears his attention away. You bolt up to him, holding bags full of items that were certainly not on the list he’d given you. “I couldn’t help it, the groceries were 50% off, and we haven’t gone yet this week, have we? Well, if we have, we could give some to the others, and-”

“My, that looks quite heavy, are you alright?” the woman speaks up again and Scaramouche suppresses the urge to tape her mouth shut.

“Oh, yes, I’m alright, thank yo-”

“This one has what I need, right?” he snaps suddenly, taking one of the bags from you. You nod, and that’s all he needs before he’s walking off. “We’re leaving.”

“Ah, but we haven’t bought the other things on the list yet!”

He places the blue iris on top of the groceries filling your arms, close enough that you could smell its scent. “We’ll get it later. This place is full of mental commoners, and I’m seconds away from getting violent.”

You blink at the flower, opening your mouth to ask but he’s gone in an instant, disappearing into the crowd. You groan and turn to bid the woman farewell, and she laughs. “You two are such an adorable couple. You remind me of my old days.”

At this, your face heats. Unbeknownst to you, the slightest of embarrassment creeps onto his own face–not that he’d ever admit it.

thoma

“We’ll stay with you until your mommy and daddy come find you, okay?” Thoma offers to the crying child, holding out a bottle of water he carries in his pocket. You’ve always known that children love Thoma, but you didn’t know of its extent until the child calms down immediately, expression changing into a beam in mere minutes. You can’t blame the kid because even you yourself find yourself in a calmer state the second you’re in Thoma’s presence. How he does it, you’d like to know too.

Soon enough, you’re walking hand in hand with the little boy and Thoma, glancing around the city in hopes of finding a face similar to the boy’s. Unfortunately, you fail to find any despite Thoma asking around the townspeople and your constant searching. 

After a few hours, the three of you decide upon a break. When you see the child eyeing a specific food vendor, you smile and lead the way. “You’re hungry right? Some food might help all of us reenergize.”

There, the cook eyes your group up and down before turning back to his kitchen. “The family discount ended at lunch. You’ll have to pay full price if you want anything.”

You stare in shock (mostly of his rudeness) while Thoma visibly chokes on his own spit. Did he think you were married? With a child? The thought of it is bizarre, but you can’t help but think of how nice it would be. Thoma’s good at everything related to the house–cleaning, cooking, babysitting–he was practically a dream man for some people. But marriage has rarely crossed your mind so why did you feel so….This mere thought makes you look away.

The boy however, seems unfazed as he simply sits himself on one of the stools, happily swinging his legs. Seeing that it’s not the time to address the mistake, you continue to order dishes, ignoring the heat flooding your face.

Finally, when the boy’s mother comes looking for him, you pass him off happily and wave as they disappear down the street. It’s nearly sunset now as you feel Thoma take your hand. “Shall we get home, then?”

The walk back home is silent. Usually, the two of you indulge in a comfortable silence but this one has a cloud of unsaid words swirling around the two of you, leaving you obsessing over your own wishes. Eventually the silence becomes so suffocating that he clears his throat.

“Agh, now I feel bad…” he mumbles, his blond hair falling over his eyes.

You lift your head. “Huh? About what?”

“I think it made you uncomfortable,” he clarifies, sheepishly meeting your eyes. “But I was really happy when he called us a family.”

Your eyes grow wide.

He swipes at his red tinted cheeks and shakes his head. “Maybe I got ahead of myself, or something like that. If you’re not ready for it–if you’re never ready for that, I would never be upset at you. But at the same time, it would be a dream too–to be able to call myself your husband. Sorry, I naturally thought that you’d like it too and I-”

“I do!” you nearly yell, making him jump. “I do. Like it. A lot. I’d like to call you my spouse.”

The two of you stare at one another in surprise before you both laugh. His fingers tighten around yours, making your chest feel as if it’s about to explode with butterflies. It doesn’t take much to guess that he feels the same.

“Let’s talk more about this later, when we get home. I still have to make dinner, you know.”

imagine kissing them.

imagine them melting against your lips, resting in your hold. imagine their muted sigh against you, the relief that chases away the exhaustion in their limbs.

imagine their hands: wandering, careless, thoughtlessly holding your waist, your arms, your shoulders. imagine their starry eyes gently closed, their skin so beautiful under your fingers.

imagine kissing them again and again, sharing comfort and sweet nothings that turn into everything under the warm breeze and heavy moon.

-> (your fav) + KAZUHA, xiao, jean, ayaka, kuki shinobu, ningguang, KOKOMI, lisa, rosaria, SHENHE, DILUC, kaeya, CHILDE, yun jin

Strong yor strong yor

Based on this text post by @goggles-mcgee

Are we not going to talk about this

drunk

thoma

a/n: I think he's neat || if u saw that no u didn't.

He laughed. It was short, but a laugh nonetheless. It was airy and beautiful—carrying the crispness of a feathered dove's first flight. You simply gaped. How else were you to respond when witnessing such splendor? While still processing Thoma's cute giggle, his hand came up, obscuring the now uneasy and wobbly smile as his eyes stared back at yours. Ah! A smile; from nervousness or glee from your attention, you wonder? Ears red, face akin to a certain vegetable, the same airy yet now wavering voice asked: "I-is there something on my face...?" You blinked, now noticing your rude behavior. In a hurry to dispel his uneasiness, you waved your hand in front of your flustered face, dismissing his question. "Oh- No, no! It's just that- uhm..." Your conscious told you not to say it. It really tried. Yet, you looked away from his brilliantly bright verdant eyes, placing a hand on your cheek as a futile excuse to cover the embarrassment from taking over your features. "You just... you have a really pretty laugh.." You shamefully mumbled. You were absolutely steaming from bashfulness. Sputtering, confused noises tumbled out from Thoma's mouth, before he opted for a quiet "Eh?" to properly and coherently express his confusion. This scene might've been comedic if not for the appropriate context. You took his confusion as an indirect rejection, and the little confidence your low self esteem conjured up now withered away. "I'm sorry- Just ignore what I sai-"

There it was again. A short lived, ethereal laugh. It reminded you of the sun's rays cascading across the dancing leaves, swaying to the rhythm of a song unheard. It reminded you of the delicate blue waters lapping up to your ankles, before it hurried away, the tinkle of it's playful laughter heard amongst the roaring of the ocean. A sound so innocent, so indescribably intricate that you found yourself lost within it, and similarly, at a loss for words. It bubbled forth from the depths of his lungs and caused an overwhelming new warmness to blanket your skin. And again, you gaped. Although this time, his crinkled eyes met yours, face still beaming, as he said, "Well, I think your laugh is prettier." Thoma almost sounded amused. Why is that so? He said such thing with not an ounce of shame, yet with every gallon of confidence that you nearly believed him. You clasped your hands onto your face, shying away from his smile, his eyes, his everything that was meant for you. Where did his confidence come from?

He only wished you knew how your laugh jolted his heart into a sprint, how he thought of himself as undeserving to hear it. Such an angelic hymn should be reserved only for the heavens, no?

Tentatively, as to not scare you, and also in part because he wasn't sure this was the right move himself, he reached a hand out. Thoma's hand slid onto your cheek and that's when your heart rate tripled it's speed. His fingers fanned out across your cheek, tucking themselves under your chin in a gentle, fluid motion, tilting your head upwards. Your hands fell limply to your sides when you realized: You had a good view of the handsome tomato boy. And that's when he leaned in. And that's also when you stopped breathing.

Noses touching, Thoma's eyes beheld yours in such an unsure, yet adoring manner.

Shutting his eyes tightly as if he were the one in for the surprise, his soft lips pressed against yours hastily. It was fleeting. But it was like the touch of an angel.

confessions (part two)

ft. kazuha, scaramouche, thoma, ayato, itto, & dainsleif.

with gender-neutral reader.

© all rights reserved to keiffeine. reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

part one

it’s very obvious that there is something going on with KAZUHA. he seems more relaxed than he usually is, always seeming like he was in a daze. if anyone were to come up to him and strike a conversation, it was almost as though you were snapping him out of a daydream. there was always this tiny smile on his face, cheeks visibly pink. in his free time, kazuha’s writing heartfelt poems about you, every word he can’t say out loud written on paper. he later decides—this is the perfect way to confess to you. compiling all the poems he’s made into one pile and carefully tying string around the small pile of papers to keep it together, kazuha hopes that you could sense each feeling between the lines.

SCARAMOUCHE has never despised anyone so much in his life. he hated how you made him feel this way, like there were butterflies in his stomach or this awkward warmth in his chest that bloomed every time you were around. he hated how you made him feel vulnerable, like his walls were finally coming down and there was finally someone in his life he can open up to. he hated how you were just so perfect, with your stupidly perfect hair and stupidly perfect eyes. and don’t even get him started with your smile. scaramouche would rather die than admit his attraction towards you, but all of this longing he’d felt wasn’t about to go to waste. it was now or never, he tells himself. as he’s coming up to you, you can only ask yourself what seemed so urgent with the way he was walking in his stride, hands balled into fists, lips pursed in a thin line, and face red. quickly, he ushered you to the side, stammering through his confession: “y/n…i…i really, really like you. in a way that’s more than what we have right now. i really need you to tell me if you feel the same way.”

THOMA cannot wrap his head around the concept of feelings. what do you even do in this situation, he’d ask himself. it’s clear that he has something for you, because any time someone would mention your name, his face will immediately turn bright red and he’d start stuttering as he spoke. “what? y-y/n? what do you mean, haha…ha…” he confides in the kamisato siblings with these things, and they both tell him the same thing: why not write a letter of confession? so, he does, spending nearly the entire night trying to write The Perfect Letter. the next day, with his letter sealed in an envelope, thoma meets you under a large sakura tree, handing you the letter and praying to the archons that this’ll come out in his favor.

ITTO cannot keep feelings subtle even if his life depended on it. he’s very open with how he feels about you, and it’s pretty much heard around inazuma at this point. with how it’s basically become a known thing now, it eventually reached back to you, but you enjoyed seeing how oblivious itto can be. you would give him hints to show your interest, like making flirtatious comments or holding eye contact to the point where itto would start getting flustered and his gaze would falter. still, he had no clue and you were just waiting patiently for him, wanting to hear his feelings come out from his own mouth and not just from someone in inazuma who happened to hear. honestly, you couldn’t help but melt and laugh when he finally does, getting the entire arataki gang to individually hold up signs that formed a short sentence: | PLEASE | DATE | ME? | → | with itto standing by the arrow, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a special onikabuto he thought you’d especially like.

AYATO gets teased endlessly by his sister as he brought up how you made him feel a particular way that he didn’t quite understand. she still gives him sisterly advice, to just go for it and court you like how he’d been taught growing up. but, the first step to that was taking you out—and ayato didn’t know how to do that. no one has ever made him feel like this before, and he was afraid of messing up everything somehow. one way or another, he has to do it. he settles on doing it at night, with the moonlight casting over inazuma and when the ambience feels calmer, when it’s more quiet and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the world. gingerly, ayato takes your hands into his, holding them as he looked down into your eyes, saying, “y/n…you make me feel things i’ve never felt before, and you’re so…special to me. if i may, i would really love to take you on a date.”

DAINSLEIF doesn’t waste his time dwelling and doubting his feelings: he’s certain with what he feels about you and he has to tell you, because life is so short and you can only do so many things before it’s over. and with years of wandering and feeling so alone, dain’s finally found someone that’s made him feel at home, like he can forget about every terrible thing that’s happened in his past. although he’s sure, he’s nervous when he’s actually standing in front of you, staring into your eyes where it’s unclear if you’re about to accept or deny his feelings. dain clears his head swallows back the anxiety. “y/n, you’re…amazing in every single way possible, and you’ve made me feel so alive and not completely lost in the world. i would love for you to be by my side, and i want to be able to call you mine.”

genshin masterlist

navigation

he’s finally out of hoyo’s basement!!

dads with the pets they didn’t want

What they do when they have a crush on you

Characters: Nilou/Jean x gn!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: My Jean simping continues, and so does my streak of writing random things instead of my requests. I swear I'll get to them, but there are simply aren't enough requests with Jean in my inbox, so I have to do it myself /hj

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Nilou

While some might get shy, embarrassed, or sometimes more brazen around the person they liked, Nilou’s friendly behaviour didn’t change too much around you. Sure, there were times she’d say something to you without thinking it over, nearly losing her composure as a result, but those were exceptions, no the rule.

Whenever Nilou found some extra time, she liked to invite you to the great Bazaar, no matter if she had a performance and wanted you to be in the audience or simply wanted to spend time with you. From all of the places in Sumeru city, there weren’t many that could rival it in her eyes, and while the lively atmosphere was great even when on her own, with you it felt just the better.

Sometimes you’d actually buy something, but often the two of you would simply look from stall to stall while either chatting with each other or talking to the shop-owners, who were already more than used to seeing both of you around.

The moment Nilou and you had entered the Bazaar, she had began to lead you all the way to a small shop selling all kinds of pastries, sweets and other such things, and while you first thought that it must have been a new store, having never visited or even seen it before, the way Nilou and the shop-owner talked made it obvious that this wasn’t the first time she bought something from them.

“Please, feel free to pick something that you’d want, that’s on me”, Nilou offered to you, causing you to think about it for a few seconds. While you weren’t the biggest fan of pastries, the thought of not ordering anything, when she had been so excited to show the stall to you, left you with a bitter taste, causing you to pick the same thing she did, causing her order them right away.

“How does it taste?”, Nilou asked after watching you take your first bite, only for a smile to appear on her face once again when saw your subconscious smile and you told her you liked it, happy to see you happy.

Jean

While there were many people in the knights of Favonius and Mondstadt that tried to convince their acting Grandmaster to not overwork herself too much, most of their attempts failed, and the ones that succeeded only did so for a day or two max. So, when Jean actually began trying to end her work or take breaks long enough to spend a bit of time with you, people around her couldn’t help but be surprised to say the least.

Your outings wouldn’t be long, consistint of small walks through the city with maybe a shop visit or two every once and again, during which you made sure no one bothered her with unimportant requests. And while your conversations sometimes had the semblance of professionality, other times the two of you talked about whatever came to your minds.

“Even a short walk outside does wonders after sitting in an office for a few hours”, you stated out loud once the two of you returned to Jean’s office. While you had your own office with your own work waiting for you to come back, you figured that accompanying the acting Grandmaster back to her office wouldn’t ruin your schedule too much. And while you certainly planed on leaving her to work on her own after just a few minutes, that quickly changed when your eyes landed on a small novel on top of her desk.

“Ah- Lisa must have left it here the last time she paid me a visit”, Jean quickly lied once she realised you were staring at the romance novel she had read in a small break and forgot to put away before agreeing to meet you, only for the embarrassment she felt to be joined by the feeling of shame about lying to you and using her friend as a scapegoat, but at the same time she couldn’t help but fear what you’d think of her if you knew the truth.

“Oh okay, makes sense. But you should try and give it a read, I know it looks like a cheesy romance novel, but I personally thought that it’s actually pretty good”, you responded after walking over to her desk and taking the novel into your hands, only to hand it to a still red Jean.

For a few moments, Jean had no idea what to say. Your words were almost exactly the same she’d use if she had to try to convince another person to pick it up, and while she couldn’t help but feel even more embarrassed because of it, another part of her felt really happy about it.

“Thank you for the recommendation, I will give it a read if I find the time for it”, she told another white-lie, only for her heart to skip a beat when she saw your smile widen because of her.