Have You Heard Of The Multiverse Theory?

“have you heard of the multiverse theory?”

akaashi looks up from his book, “what’s that my love?”

you shuffle closer to him on the couch, “it’s this whole theory about how there are multiple universes and how there are multiple versions of ourselves living in them.”

“interesting,” akaashi mumbles, closing his book to look down at you, “what do you think we’re like?”

you think for a moment, a small smile appearing on your face, “i mean i hope i’m cool,” you tell him as a small laugh leaves akaashi’s lips. “i’d want to be some kind of badass fighter who goes to fight space monsters. if not i’d love to be the ruler of a kingdom with a pretty outfit and a crown.”

“that’s,” he laughs, “very farfetched.”

“well it is farfetched here, but in other universes, it could be a whole different story,” you reason.

“very fair,” akaashi thinks, “they might have better technology for space travel than we do.”

“and they might have kingdoms that i could be an heir to,” you pout, “why does this universe have to suck so much?”

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Almost losing you

=This was a request sent to me anonymously, Hopefully this did the request justice. spoilers for the 2.7 archon quest=

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In all the years you’ve known him, you always knew he was strong. You’ve watched him fight the demons of bygone gods before after all. Being a warrior was second nature to him, and being a spear that protected Liyue from the past was his duty. But often you wonder if that was always the case, you wondered if at some point in his life.. did he have people who accompanied him?. people close enough to be family? Though you knew he walked the plains as the Sole Yaksha, the last Conqueror, you still wanted to ask but you figured you shouldn’t bother him with something so Trivial. You were his partner yes, But you knew Xiao wasn’t one to bring up the past.

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Pink

tags: SFW, GN reader, mutual pining, fluff and flirting, friends to possible lovers, implied that reader works at jujutsu high, requited unrequited love, hopeful ending

wc: 2k

“You?”

Satoru stands against the wall opposite you, shoulders relaxed and hands tucked into his pant pockets, suit jacket hooked casually through his arm. He looks handsome, he always does, but it wasn’t who you’d been expecting to pick you up.

After your date had started to go downhill you’d texted Shoko for assistance in getting out of there, and she’d quickly reassured you of your impending ride home.

She could’ve been a little more specific.

“And here I thought I’d saved you,” he drawls, a bemused smile pulling at his lips. You’re sure that had he not been wearing his blindfold, you’d see his eyebrows raised too. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet, leaning closer into your space.

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thank you, Satoru,” you say with a roll of your eyes, stepping forward into the hallway and closing the stage door behind you before starting toward the exit, “is there any particular reason that Shoko isn’t here?”

“No. I just so happened to overhear and volunteered,” he replies easily, rolling the tension out of his shoulders as his mouth curves wider into a grin.

“Out of the goodness of your heart, I’m sure”. All theatrics, you think. Deep down a proud part of you didn’t want to admit that you were relieved, and another felt defensive over his apparent need to save you from situations that you could handle perfectly well on your own. But it was easy to fall back into the familiar act, the back and forth bickering, the forced annoyance.

It was something you’d both wordlessly agreed to keep up. The daily teasing distracted the students from their own anxieties, it was familiar and gave stability, and admittedly it was fun.

It also meant you needn’t confront your own feelings about him.

You pause to undo the latch to the firedoor, having sneaked around back to avoid your date, only to have the heat of his looming body blanket you at your back. Both arms come to rest upon the door either side of your head, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see you all dressed up,” he murmurs, “is that so hard for you to believe?”

With bated breath you push the door open, running from his soft laughter where he stands beneath the frame, the cold night air an immediate shock against the heat flushing through your body.

“Just hurry up and get me home before I freeze,” you hastily throw over your shoulder, arms wrapped tight to your chest as you speed toward his car. It wasn’t hard to find, big enough for a man of his stature and just as striking.

“Don’t be like that,” he says, all melody and the intonations of a smile clear in his voice. Continuing your quick stride forward, you feel the muscles in the swell of your cheeks lift, and you’re grateful for the chance to smile where he cannot see it.

As you approach the passenger side of his car and hear the click of the door unlocking, both grateful and disappointed that he didn’t rush to open it for you. “Alright,” he huffs as he drops all his weight into the driver's seat, notably a few centimetres back in comparison to your own to accommodate his long legs. You pull the belt across your torso, clicking it into place.

“Just wait and I’ll tell you my address—”

“Already know it,” he interrupts under his breath as you speak, reaching up to hook his fingers into the fabric of his blindfold and pulling it down, other hand reaching toward your belt buckle and jostling it. You feel yourself stutter, flustered by the subtle consideration.

“You know my home address—”

“My plan was to quickly get you out of there because you were uncomfortable,” he assents as the gentle hum of the car starts, followed by the soft scuffing of gravel beneath the tires, “Shoko texted it to me on the way over”.

“I guess that makes sense,” you mumble apologetically. A minute of comfortable silence passes, and he again reaches toward the console to press one of the buttons. Then you begin to feel your seat warm up beneath your thighs.

The streets pass and along with them the street lamps, casting moving shadows across his face. Still, the light seems to gather in his eyes, warmth pooling in his expression. “So, what happened? What’re you so sour about?” he speaks again, the heel of his hand propped lazily atop the steering wheel.

You tilt your head toward the window, chewing the inside of your cheek, breathing through the throng of vines in your chest. Emotions were so physical, you thought — as real as any physiological wound could be. Guilt is heady, bitterness is sharp, it stings in your sinuses and it tightens your throat.

You were upset because nothing was working. Because it hadn’t been the man you wanted sitting across from you. Because even though you had been there to distract yourself from him, Satoru had shown up anyway.

“I’m not sour,” you mutter petulantly, entirely unconvincing. Satoru hums, a deep and amused rumble in his throat, and points toward the glove compartment by your knees.

“Take a look in there,” he says, “might be something to sweeten you up”.

With a suspicious glance, you reach forward and hook your fingers into the handle, feeling it pop unlocked once you pull. Inside is a small clear bag of what appears to be hard candy, nestled beside some documents and a phone charger.

Given the magnitude of his sweet tooth, you’d almost expected there to be more; a mountain of sweets spilling comically out into the space between your legs. You’re quickly drawn to your favourite flavour, the plastic wrapper crinkling loudly, your nose wrinkling at the sound.

There are some strawberry and yoghurt flavoured ones, small creamy coloured ovals decorated with pink swirls and soft in the middle, but not many. You’d seen him sucking on these ones a fair few times in the staff room, holding them between his wet lips and cursing whenever they slipped out into his lap. If you weren’t already aware of his affinity for chapstick you might’ve assumed that was why his mouth was always pink.

Rolling it between the pad of your finger and thumb, you hold it out for him to take. Neither the hand on the wheel or the one shaped around the gear stick moves, instead he leans and indicates playfully for you to feed it to him.

“What are you, a child?” you awkwardly clear the dryness in your throat, “eat it yourself”.

Unperturbed, he shifts the car into fourth gear before plucking the candy from your fingers, lips parting to place it on his tongue.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he murmurs, cheek hollowing as he sucks with the corner of his mouth curved into a barely there smile, “you won’t get anything if you don’t ask”.

Reaching in to take another of the strawberry and yoghurt, avoiding his sidelong glance as you sit it on your own tongue, the taste bursting along your palate. You could understand why he enjoyed them, the flavours intermingled well together.

“He kept speaking over me,” you confess, the words slightly obstructed by the sweet nestled by your gums, “and he was overly critical of the staff about the food. It was embarrassing”.

You hear him click his tongue, your eyes catching on the movement of his finger tapping restlessly against the wheel. “You know you can do far better than that,” he tells you, “clearly he didn’t, though. Otherwise he wouldn’t have taken you to that restaurant”.

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask indignantly, teeth beginning to sink into the soft middle of the candy. Satoru’s tongue swipes across his lower lip, pink, finally finished with his own and savouring the taste.

“Come on,” he bemoans with emphasis, “they don’t serve anything you like there. Even I know that”.

Huh. Well that had been… true, for the most part. But it wasn’t something you were going to make complaints about, and it’d been easy to request certain things be taken out of the food. You could live with little things like that.

The night is much clearer than usual, considering the constant light pollution emitting from the city. It’s beautiful, and a bit romantic, to see the far off stars flickering back at you. You keep your gaze locked on them as you ask, “if you’re such an expert, where would you have taken me?”

He hums a short, playful song under his breath, adjusting the rear view mirror in your peripheral, “wouldn’t you like to know?”

The aggravation that twists into your expression is difficult to miss, and it makes him laugh, the sound loosening the knots of frustration. It’s becoming exceedingly hard to navigate how he makes you feel, a constant push and pull of mild irritation and affection, made worse by the fact that he seemed to enjoy eliciting reactions out of you.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it was he was hoping to gain – what he wanted from you. Sometimes his hunger for your attention felt insatiable. Paired then with his continuous critique of the way others treated you, and of how you treated yourself, it was hard to dampen the kindling of hope in your chest.

You pluck out another sweet from the bag, arm extending across the space between you and pulling back again when he lifts a hand to take it from your grasp.

His eyes flicker from the winding road back to you, brows drawn together, his mouth jutted into a pout. Pink. You lean towards him, fingers grazing the soft plush of his lips where you press the sweet into the seam, indulging him. He blinks, and they part for you.

He appears to be fighting off a grin, jaw shifting with hollowed cheeks as he suckles. “Knew you liked me,” he says.

“The jury is still out on that one,” you murmur fondly, turning to lean back against the window, glass cool against your warm skin. The car turns into your street, beginning to slow and pull up to the curb. Disappointment blooms.

You feel for your keys as the engine cuts off, looping your fingers through the rings, other hand pulling the door handle to step out. Satoru is uncharacteristically quiet.

“Thank you again for… saving me,” you recite his earlier words, hoping it will clear the unsettling silence. He watches you awkwardly linger with distinct fondness, crossing his arms against the steering wheel and leaning his cheek atop them.

“Happy to,” he replies, “only sorry I was the one taking you home tonight”.

You snort. “He wouldn’t have been seeing my place tonight, regardless of whether or not it went well”.

He processes it, nods slowly from behind stray white bangs, and exhales a soft “good”.

Your fingers tighten around the jagged edges of your keys and you feel your pulse quicken, it ebbs through your body like the wing of a hummingbird.

“You’re not coming in either,” you mutter, amusement pulling at the corner of your mouth with the realisation that he was waiting for something. For you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he mirrors your smile, shallow crinkles forming by his eyes. You lick your lips, he follows the motion and you taste the strawberry. You wonder if he’d taste like that too.

“Night, Satoru,” you breathe. He repeats it. You feel his stare heavily on your back as you walk towards your door, glancing over your shoulder one last time to catch a glimpse of him, cheek still leant comfortably against his forearms. His hand lifts to give you a limp wave, and you feel stupidly giddy at the gesture.

He doesn’t drive away until you are in the house, and you watch through the curtains as he pulls away. Perhaps things were not as unrequited as you’d once thought.

— genshin men in a royalty au

INCLUDES : ayato ; childe ; dainsleif ; diluc ; kaeya

A/N : just some massive brainrot on royalty aus bc i love them so much and hhjhsdl

reader is gender neutral w/ you/your pronouns !!

likes & REBLOGS are appreciated if u enjoyed this !! <33

— imagine you’re in a royalty-esque au, but as like,,,, the personal guard for crown prince!diluc, who sometimes tends to take the title of “personal” a little too seriously at times (which includes, but is most definitely not limited to, keeping you in close company, even when your presence is by no means mandatory). but in spite of his sometimes overbearing need for you to be there beside him, you don’t mind his nuanced insistence; after all, it’s your sworn duty to look out for and protect the future king of mondstadt, right?

being brought up as the future heir to the throne isn’t as romanticised as he’s read his people make it out to be. constantly living on edge, wondering if there’s an assassination attempt waiting for him at the turn of a corner, anticipating a poisoned beverage from an opposer… all of these things are never depicted, and the loneliness that he’s forced to accommodate to certainly isn’t mentioned either. so when you’re hand-picked by his father as his personal guard, he’s even more agitated. it’s the perfect way to get close and get rid of him, right? but contrary to his inner fears, you never did anything of the sort, you merely trained and tended to his needs as you were instructed to. he was still skeptical, though that all changed when an assassination attempt occurred on the night he was to turn eighteen. he didn’t know how you had arrived so quickly, but in that moment all he could focus on was how ethereal the moonlight trickling in through his window made you appear. and it was after that incident he began to open up to you more, and the true nature of his feelings began to bubble within.

but if there’s one thing diluc makes sure to show in front of you it’s the countless marriage proposals he rejects, even going as far as burning the letters in a way he prays gets his message to you across. but no matter how many times he does so, you always regard him in neutrality — as though him openly rejecting marital opportunities from foreign lands had nothing to do with you. is it so hard to believe he would choose your hand to delicately hold and kiss instead? the notion pains him greatly. do you not see the way he stares so longingly? so desperately? so hopelessly??

— but even that righteous motive of protecting your homeland and future ruler takes unprecedented swerves, what with the way second prince!kaeya always seems to appear in front of you, regardless of the task you’re in the middle of. sometimes you wonder whether he just lurks around the areas you tend to frequent within the palace grounds, as him not being sighted for a day is more of a rarity than you would like (though begrudgingly you can’t deny the way his presence brings you a peace of mind within the typically monotonous days, even if his constant teasing gradually becomes more and more genuine when they most definitely shouldn’t).

though his illegitimate birth status may have been swept under the rug from the larger part of the population, it was by no means a privy matter to the old nobles of the court. kaeya had faced countless scorn and disdain, and he had expected the same disgusted look from you when you first met. but you did nothing of the sort. you merely regarded him with his royal status and paid no heed to his unbefitting background, even when he knew damn well you’re aware of it. but you carried on, minding your own business, performing your knightly duties while he couldn’t help but be drawn closer, and closer, and closer. so close he couldn’t bear to back away. and thus he began memorising your most frequented spots, betting on the odds that would allow him to encounter and approach you in a way more natural than just summoning you out of the blue.

his feelings hit him deep in the gut, the realisation of his curiosity-turned-infatuation catching him like a deer in headlights. he knows it’s forbidden — that he should crush these fleeting feelings stemmed from the sheer indifference you displayed at his birth status. he knows he should spare himself the heartache early on, so why is he showing you his secret spot in the back of the gardens? why does he insistently take the time to prepare snacks that caters to your taste when he knows you have a particularly grueling training that afternoon? just why… why does his heart seem to only grow fonder for you as the days pass, no matter whether it’s spent with you or not? deep inside kaeya knows his heart will beat so lovingly for you and you only, even if you love another.

— royal guard commander!dainsleif who always assigns you to go on patrols with him when organising the groups, regardless of whether the high frequency of it all begins to draw suspicion from his subordinates, especially when he still persists even after you’ve been promoted to be the crown prince’s personal guard. sure, you respect the man — in fact, you very well look up to him! — and you don’t mind going on patrols with him, but you’re pretty sure you’re not the only “tolerable” knight in the royal guards… (his subordinates never voice the blatantly obvious reason aloud though; not even when they’re frozen in place at their commander’s uncharacteristically soft demeanour and honey-dripping gaze when in your presence, his usual blunt and nonchalant self nowhere to be seen. well, all but a close knight by the name halfdan, at least).

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“You know, I really hope this boosts your morale.”

You sigh, a millisecond away from snapping at the infamous Captain Kaeya. “What does?”

“My bare chest.”

Pressing the dressing deeper into the wound on his thigh, you bind it tight enough to feel his muscles tense under you. “Captain, please refrain from making inappropriate jokes at this time. You nearly died.”

He’s right that his bare chest looks wonderful in the dim light in his tent, but it would look better without the fresh wounds and splattered blood from the hillichurl camp he’d just quelled. The one he went into single-handedly before someone caught on and sent a troop after their captain as backup.

“I really didn’t, my beloved healer.”

“Captain.” Perhaps reminding him of his position would help minimize his foolhardy behaviors. Perhaps it won’t. “Don’t.”

He hates that word on your lips. For weeks, he thought he’d prefer this. That he’d prefer anything but his name on your lips, because hearing you call him Kaeya - or worse, Kai - made him too giddy for comfort. Now that you’ve fulfilled his wish, he wishes there was something else you would call him besides Captain.

Will he ever be satisfied with what he has?

The silence may kill him sooner than the many wounds he sustained, so he says the first thing on his mind. He says, “Did I look hot today too?” and regrets it the moment your eyes darken.

“You looked a fool, is what you looked like,” you tell him, moving on to dressing other wounds laced across his torso. “Were you trying to die?”

“Would you have mourned me if I had?”

“Most of Mondstadt would have, yes.”

“Would you?”

“I don’t see why it matters to you what I think, Captain.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Your title?”

“You haven’t called me Captain in nearly a year.”

“No reason. Just realized that perhaps I was letting my emotions get the best of me.”

“Is this about last night?” He winces as you drop all your instruments with a loud clatter, standing up with clenched fists and thinly veiled anger in your eyes. “Hey,” he says softly. “No need for that.”

He reaches out to touch your wrist, but you firmly step back, out of his reach.

“Maybe you’re used to this, Captain, but I’m not. I know we were both drunk last night, but don’t you think you were unfair?”

“Unfair?” His eyebrows quirk in a dark kind of mirth. “I hardly think a kiss for a beautiful woman is unfair.”

Curtly, you retort with a raised eyebrow, “You kicked me out immediately afterward and told me to curl up next to Diluc.”

Kaeya laughs a little. He remembers exactly what he said. He wasn’t as drunk as you thought he was, and every word was a calculated move to push you away. “He’s your best friend, no? A safer bedmate than the absolute snake I am.”

“Kaeya!”

His name rips through the room like a knife through a veil. It jolts him out of a pained stupor with wide eyes.

“Kaeya,” you repeat, and his name hurts almost more than the mess he’s made of himself on the battlefield. “What happened? We were okay before this. What changed?”

“An excellent question from an excellent mind.”

There’s no way he’s telling you the truth. How pathetic does he have to be to admit that he’s letting Diluc get in the way of what he wants? To admit to the list of wrongs he’s committed against the man he used to call brother?

Perhaps he ought to admit to less terrifying things first. Things like - “Have I told you I heal better when you do it?”

“I am assigned to you for a reason, Captain. I am the best there is, as far as you’re concerned.”

Ah. There’s that title again.

“Right. You know my body better than anyone… in more ways than one.”

That’s not what he meant to say, but he’s never been any other way. It’s not easy to be vulnerable, especially not to you. He knows that in the depths of his person, there are things that could drive you away. Despite his recent difficult demeanor, he doesn’t want you all that far from him. It’s been said now, though, and as always, he must reap the consequences.

“We have never shared a bed, Captain, and if you would like to imply that we have…. I have other injuries to attend to. You seem to be doing well enough.”

“You’re leaving me, then?”

“Yes.” But when you finish packing your supplies and look at him again, you see the tiredness in his one uncovered eye. The acceptance of something he clearly doesn’t want to accept. “Are you…?”

“No,” he responds quickly. “No, it’s okay. Thank you for your time and care. Come find me if Diluc is an idiot and causes you problems.”

And it’s a little too final for comfort, so you turn around and stare at him a little longer, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re hiding something from me.”

“I’m hiding something from everyone, darling.”

“This is about Diluc.”

“Everything is, isn’t it? What would Mondstadt be without his tavern? Barbatos himself enjoys his liquor.”

“Fuck, Kaeya, you know what I’m trying to say.”

And something breaks in him, and he speaks faster than he knew was possible as he says, “Yes, this is about Diluc. This is about me taking away everything he’s ever cared about. This is about me being his biggest curse; this is about how you are bound to die if you stay around me for much longer. This is about how I wanted to take down as many threats to your life as I could, and that’s what I was thinking when I stormed that camp alone. This is about how I want to do at least one good thing in my life - even if that one thing is ripping out my own heart and sending it away. So thank you, again, for your time and care, but you should leave now like everyone else does, and I can return to status quo.” With that, he flops back on the shoddy mattress and throws an arm over his eyes.

Whatever you expected from him, it wasn’t that. Sitting on the bed next to him, you tug at his arm until he pulls it away to look at you. “Why are you still here?” He asks in a small, hollow voice.

“You seem to be forgetting something or deliberately not noticing. I’m fucking in love with you. Okay? So stop acting a fool because I’m already too attached to you for this kind of talk.”

“You’re what.”

“You heard me. You’re not unlovable, and the proof is that my hands shake every time I come near you. Because every time I patch you up, I calculate how far from death you are. Diluc thanks me for taking care of you every time, because as frustrated as you always are with each other, he never really stopped caring either. Do you even realize how many people ask me about your health whenever I leave your tent after healing you? Now close your eyes and sleep, loser. I’ll stay until then and continue my rounds after.”

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he curls up with his head in your lap and - for once in his life - follows directions.

the aftermath

pairing: xiao x gn!reader

cw: spoilers of the archon quest “hidden dreams in the depths,” entirely self-indulgent 🤍

the scene would be comical from an outsider’s perspective.

a human sitting alongside one of the great yaksha, dirt and bruises marring their countenances. tears run down their faces in streams as they shovel spoonfuls of a shared plate of almond tofu into their mouths. truly, comedic.

“stop crying,” xiao demands, soft.

“how can i?” you retaliate, setting your spoon down and hastily wiping your tears. “you almost… you almost…”

just the thought of losing him brings another fresh wave of tears to your eyes, and you instinctively turn away to hide them, “how dare you tell me to stop crying when you are, too.”

he can’t argue with that. xiao touches his cheek to feel the wetness there, foreign and involuntary. you had never once seen him cry despite the demons that plagued him every single day. he was always strong, always put up a protective front for you.

he would have done anything for you to get out of there alive. even at the cost of his own.

but as he looks at you now, sitting so close yet feeling so far away, he wonders if that’s what you would have even wanted in the first place. it makes him so unexplainably sad.

“i hate you,” you mutter, with no bite.

you don’t… you love him. he knows that.

xiao tentatively reaches out and grasps your shoulder. you let him slowly maneuver you so you’re facing him, and he starts to thumb at your tears.

it doesn’t help, not really. only because seeing xiao cry while doing so only makes you cry more.

“i hope you know to never make such a rash decision like that ever again,” you whisper, warbled and broken, “i don’t ever want to be in a world without you in it.”

xiao brings his forehead to meet yours, eyes closing as he basks in your warmth.

“i know,” he relents, holding your face in a gentle cradle.

heaving a sigh through your nose, you pull away from xiao and pick up the discarded plate of almond tofu. his eyes are half-lidded as you bring a spoonful to his lips. he takes it without argument, and your heart makes leaps.

you bite your lip, unable to resist the urge to lay a gentle kiss on his damp cheek.

“don’t forget it.”