Ashsirens - Paint The Town Blue

Comfort (F! Chief x Hecate )

Genre: Fluff

AO3

It is rare for the chief to get some downtime for herself these days, and back then she thought not getting some sleep after one day was hell–she did not prepare herself for an almost two-day mission without any chance of her catching some shut eyes in between. Nevertheless, the mission was a success, and even though Nightingale suggested the chief start on her report immediately, she decided of her own volition that it could wait. After all, sleep deprivation does nothing good for her brain. So she called it a day early. 

There is a small bed in a room inside her office, which served its purpose of being an alternative bedroom when the chief couldn't make it to her apartment—which is every day now. It was commissioned by Adjutant Nightingale and approved by MBCC—and while humble, it is functional enough for the chief to not complain. One flaw though, it has no clock in it yet; so she can’t tell time. Like now that the chief suddenly brought back to the land of the wakings by unknown reason, how long she had slept and what time it is now she couldn’t tell, but the light that shine in and bathed the white wall at the foot of her bed was silver and cold—so she guess it is still nighttime.

Maybe she is dehydrated, maybe it’s nature calling.

She sighs and is about to get up from her bed, but then…her leg bumps into something—there is…there is something under her blanket. And then she also realizes just how unusual the ‘shape’ of her blanket is—her legs are flat down, they definitely can’t cause this. The chief pinches the blanket; her heart is racing faster than any Syndicate gang car—well, dying fucking sucks but dying in her bed by assassination sounds rather pathetic. But just before she could decide to do anything, the thing under the blanket speaks

“Chief…” 

The black-haired chief is completely baffled when she hears the voice of a girl she would recognize under any circumstances.

“Hecate??!” Chief’s half yelling and half whispering even though no one, at this god-forsaken hour would hear. 

The older woman is now frozen as the situation in front of her is simply just absurd. Hecate is, technically, on top of her–under her cover in the dead of the night. In a way, Chief is glad that it’s the gloomy pale blue-haired girl and not someone else as she trusts that the girl wouldn’t wish for her death. Still, this is wild.  The girl under the sheet shifts her position a little, the sound of friction between Hecate’s dress and the fabric of the cover is absurdly loud in a small dark room inhabited only by two people. The black-haired chief’s skip beats and breathing becomes hard labor despite not being in any immediate danger. 

Neither of them says anything as Hecate slowly rises from her awkward position—she climbs up from sitting at Chief’s legs to now planting herself on the dark-haired woman’s stomach. Right now, the room is too dark as a thick patch of cloud covering the soft, guiding moonlight—turning both parties temporarily blind in the dark. Still, Chief can see a dark outline that is now looking at her.

“ Are you alright, Hecate? How…did you slip past the guard?”

“ I can always find my way, it’s not like you can guard the vent in your room, don’t you?” Her voice seems shaky but doesn’t sound like she is nervous—maybe she is cold. But then it struck her. Chief just remembered that she…

“Hecate…”

“Yes, Chief?” The shadowy girl crooks her head a little with that question. The moon is still very much blocked by thick clouds—she can’t see the exact expression of Hecate.

“ I…” Chief swallows her saliva out of a defense mechanism again shame before continuing with her sentence.

“ I didn’t have any clothes on…” Dark-haired struggles with her words

“ I know that. Does…that make you uncomfortable? If so, please order me to leave you alone. I surely will oblige your order,” Hecate responds with the similar tone of voice she used everywhere, but…to Chief’s trained ears; she catches the small shake in Hecate’s voice. However, the chief is never that interested in the tone of her voice but only in the things she said. She will leave if I command her to—does that imply that if the Chief doesn't, she will stay? This… has to be against some sort of rules but…

As the thoughts run all over the dark-haired woman’s head, the moon that was previously held hostage by thick clouds has become free and shining its cold but benevolent light, painting the room with glowing light and banishing the dark. Hecate’s face has become clearer although still basking in the shadow made by her as she looks down at Chief while sitting on top of her. Nothing seems to be out of place except a hint of exhaustion that seems to be prevalent in her silver eyes. 

“Hecate…? What’s wrong?” Hesitate but still curious; the dark-haired woman asks the girl on top of her who hasn't yet explained a thing to her.

“Chief…I can’t sleep…”

“ Bad dream?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But now I can’t close my eyes” She keeps her voice low. Hecate lowers her head down, now the gap between the two is only a few inches away. What…should she do in this situation? But before she could respond, the pale blue-haired girl interjects

“When we were outside on our mission, I always had difficulty sleeping. That being said, it all went away when I slept next to you,” Hecate explains, she stops to find words for her thoughts while looking into the eyes of the black-haired woman in front of her. She is looking for a reaction, approval, or vice versa to decide if she should be pressing on. The chief remains silent while her light blue eyes look right into Hecate’s. With icy eyes like that, she should have felt cold running along her spine, yet the gaze of the black-haired woman felt like a gentle sun and summer breeze. 

Hecate averts her eyes for a moment, and her body shifts to the side of the Chief—her mannerisms are unassuming but without a hint of shyness. The bed’s surface next to Chief is slightly deflated as the young woman plants herself right next. The chief’s eyes follow but she doesn’t say anything. Despite the overwhelming silence that envelops the room, both of them don’t feel suffocated under the weight of silence. Hecate situated herself right next to the Chief with her face facing against each other—silver eyes reflecting the moonlight like a mirror leading to the realm of endless dreams. 

“You can stay, but you have to be gone by the morning, understood Hecate?”

“ Is it wrong, Chief?” Hecate’s icy doe eye looks right into the older woman’s soul, seeking answers beyond words and physical matters. Why did she have to ask it that way? 

“ No, it's just…a rule, sinners have to reside in their cells at night.” The Chief answers, but she isn’t sure if she answered what Hecate asked. Suddenly, a hand takes hold of hers—the fingers intertwined with each other, the Chief doesn’t say anything when Hecate takes her hand but her eyes follow them. She is surprised to know that the ashen blue-haired girl’s palm is rough and decorated with old scars. The Chief loses her focus again, feeling the roughness of the young girl’s hand until she squeezes the Chief’s hand with it. Blue and silver eyes lock into each other once again, and at that moment–the moon is at its peak and the light shining upon the sinner’s face amplifies the silver luminescence eyes even further. Glowing eyes seem to be a trait shared by many sinners. There’s something in Hecate’s eyes that makes the Chief’s psyche shift into an unknown state; a weird, confusing turmoil. While the Chief is all over in her own head, Hecate moves herself a little closer to the black-haired woman—bit by bit, until their noses are a few inches apart, and that seems to snap the Chief back to reality. Hecate stops for a moment, looking for any kind of resistance. When she found none, she continues until they share the same breathing air. Their lips are an inch away and–

“Chief,”

“May I?” The soft and monotone voice of Hecate usually stays calm in the most stressful situation is now visibly trembling–whether it’s from anxiety or desire, the chief really has no idea. She doesn't know if this is an appropriate thing for an MBCC chief to indulge in but the warmth that radiates from Hecate makes her heart shudder. Hecate is almost always colder than the environment she exists in—but not this time, or maybe she was always warm, the chief just realizes now. 

“You may," The chief answers, giving in to the need to indulge herself in the mutual comfort of the sinner. Hecate takes immediate initiative in closing the gap between them one last time. The chief feels the lips of the girl in front of her pressing onto hers. She breathes in a scent that weirdly reminds her of a rainy day, a mountain, and flowers; it’s a cold and sweet scent she remembered from the vision of those white flowers she saw the first time she met Hecate… if remembers a scent from a dream of memories is a thing that is. The warmth of Hecate’s lips makes the Chief slightly shudder as it contrasts with the cold temperature in the room. It isn’t a deep kiss, nor is it a shallow one but it’s certainly filled with doubt and anxiety. A moment later, Hecate withdraws her presence a little further away from the black-haired woman but the sweet and cold scent is still there. Hecate looks conflicted, she is in pain and she seems pleased. She looks at peace but is also scared of something. 

“Can I… sleep with you until I get better, Chief?” 

That’s… that’s not really appropriate for someone who is the Chief to do but... 

If it would make Hecate feels better then… 

“Fine, but next time inform me ahead of time if you’re gonna be here, don’t crawl through the air-con pipe again…” the Chief says with a defeated voice. Hecate’s lips slightly form a faded smile. Completely at peace with herself now. 

The Chief owes Hecate, for what she has forced her to go through in BR0004.

This is the least she can do, for the pain, she caused the sinner.

Venti x reader headcanons

Angst + Fluff

(I can’t sleep rn and I’ve been listening to angst all night!! So enjoy!! I tried to keep this as canon as possible)

He has these cute nicknames for you, “Darling” “Love” but his most common one is “Windblume~”

Poor guy is very self conscious, he’s always thinking the body he’s in is not his and he hates it.. he wants you to love him not the nameless bard.

Please.. please don’t let him near a mirror.. he will have a breakdown right then and there. Seeing himself reminds him of the past

Gifts! Give him lots of gifts, it’ll show him you really do appreciate and love him.. in return he’ll give you hugs and kisses.. maybe even a bouquet of Cecelias <3

The thought of you not being from this world makes his heart break.. he knows you’ll leave Teyvat and him one day forever and he’s never going to forgive himself for not stopping you

Aftercare at the tavern is always important, if he’s super drunk take him home immediately, give him a warm bath and water before he goes to bed, he’ll appreciate it in the morning

If he ever sees you standing and talking to a someone, he’ll run over and jump on you like a friendly tackle. He’s very embarrassing to be around but you’d get used to it.

He absolutely loves cuddles, especially with a warm blanket when it’s cold outside. You two, sitting by a small flame. He’d love to hum you to sleep on him, it’s the best feeling ever.

Every night he goes to the huge statue of himself near the church and sit on the hands, he loves laying down on it, it reminds him of when he was a small whisp on the nameless bard’s hands. He’d love to bring you up there too, the wind and the view is gorgeous up there for sunrise.

If you ever need to find him feeling down and depressed, check windrise.. the spot by the statue feels somewhat comforting for him. Maybe because the statue ‘heals’ him..

He loves to play you songs and sing to you! If it’s private or in front of a crowd, you always get the first spot up close! He also rehearses around you once he’s comfortable with you.. your feedback is always important.

He loves absolutely everything about you, from your head to your toes, from your personality to your eyes.. he gives you compliments all day out of nowhere, it’s quite the tease sometimes but he loves your reaction. He can go on and on and ramble to strangers about you.

Even though he seemed tough on the outside, he’s quite sensitive, some comments just get to him and he can’t help but to believe them.

Nightmares are a major thing.. flashbacks to 500 year ago during the archon war frightens him.. seeing Mondstat in nothing but flames makes him horrified.

His cries are soft and quiet, you can barely hear him.. though when the time comes for him to scream and sob.. it’s like all of Teyvat can hear it through the wind.

Please comfort him, even if it’s just hugs or a simple nudge of affection.. anything to help him. He’s not used to human emotions still, especially crying so he shakes and gasps for air a lot

Dragonspine still scares him till this day, he fears that one day the protection he put over mondstat will break and Durin (the dragon created by Rhinedottir that Dvalin & him took down) will return.

Playing with his cheeks makes him blush, he’s very squishable and he loves it when you do. He ends up laughing when he sees your mocking face and he might squish yours too!

Tickles!! He’s so ticklish!! Under his arms, his waist, his neck.. anywhere gets him to laugh.

Braid his hair! He loves intimate touch like that.. he would sit on the bed beside you with his eyes shut, staring as quiet as possible while you fix his hair for him, he feels pampered and taken care of <3

He never celebrates his birthday.. he always thinks of it as the day the nameless bard died. So he doesn’t tell anyone and spends his day drinking away at the tavern..

(That’s all for now! I’ll add more later on!! :>

I’ll be making a venti angst fic soon! Stay tuned for it!!! 🤗)

Burning Hellfire

Mela x Fem! Reader

Some “nobody” seems to have taken a liking to you. Incidentally, Mela seems to have taken a hatred for them.

If you could only describe your girlfriend in two words, they would be “terrifying” and “sweet”, and not in a “she seems terrifying but is actually really nice” kind of way. “Asshole to the world sweetheart to her girl” fits her infinitely better.

That’s just how Mela is. She’s mean and rough around the edges, but sometimes her meanness comes out when she’s trying to be… not mean, like the time she threatened to beat up members of the art club when she was just trying to join them.

When she had suddenly confessed to you after skirting around her feelings for months, she had been so awkward. As any good confession starts, she started with “I’ve come here to fight you.” Her tone was serious but her body was stiff and unmoving, reflecting the extent of her nerves. “Ah-I mean, I like you and we should go on a date or something.”

So incredibly charming despite her rugged nature. Again, she’s not terrifying on the outside but completely innocent on the inside like Eri, she’s terrifying on the outside and on the inside, just as she can be sweet on both sides, as well. 

Since getting together, that sweet side is pretty much all you’ve known. Not to say she was mean to you before getting hitched, she was just pretty awkward and that led to her making false threats, one’s that lacked bite, only to backpedal after they slipped past her lips. It’s a side that isn’t unique to you, not by a long shot, but you definitely get to see it the most.

Mela is, however, still a little hesitant when expressing her feelings. Romantic relationships are clearly unfamiliar territory for her, given how she’s uncertain at times, unsure of how to navigate or proceed. It’s endearing, really. She’ll grab your hand but will do her best to avoid eye contact. She’ll give you a quick peck in public but it’s quick and sudden. She’ll envelop you in a warm hug, nuzzling deeply into your shoulder, only for her cheeks to be dusted red when pulling away.

But when she thinks that someone is getting a little too personal with you? That’s a completely different story.

Of course, it’s only natural that Mela is protective over you. Who wouldn’t take issue with someone trying to flirt with their girl? Rather, the issue is what she defines as “getting too personal”: Basically anything. 

As much as you love your girlfriend and her old Team Star buddies, sometimes you just need to talk with other people, hang out with other friends. 

Recently, you’ve found yourself talking to the same group of people after classes near the academy’s entrance. You enjoy hanging out with them, but they’re strictly school friends, the kind you don’t ever really see outside of the hallways.

After a brief discussion of the upcoming biology test, you were left talking to one of the girls in the group. She was huddled against you, shoulder to shoulder, with a textbook propped up in her hands. She was mid-ramble when she suddenly stopped talking. Her abrupt bout of nervousness would be concerning if you haven’t been through this situation before.

“Um… I think someone’s watching us…” She jostles the heavy book in one hand to rub the back of her neck with the other. You don’t even get to mutter out a response before the signature squeak of Mela’s fiery boots fills your ears. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve-” “It was great talking with you, but I’ve got to go.” You interrupt her in hopes of diffusing the situation before it even starts. “I’ll see you next class!” You hope your cheerful tone makes this poor girl feel better. You attempt to walk away from her, goading Mela to follow, but she doesn’t seem ready to budge. 

“You seem real close to MY girl.” “I-I’m sorry?” She starts shaking under the pressure.  “I don’t want to see you around her again-” “Mela!” She breaks her glare to look at you, where it softens for a moment, before turning back.

 “Look. You're lucky that MY girlfriend is here, because if she wasn’t, then I’d teach you a lesson you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. But know that if I see you getting all buddy-buddy with MY girl again, I won’t hold back.”

Mela grabs your hand and starts marching away, leaving your poor friend shaking in her metaphorical boots. You throw a whispered “sorry” over your shoulder before turning your attention back to your fuming girlfriend.

“So…” “Don’t like the way she was looking at you.” You can’t help but sigh. You love her dearly, but this jealous streak is a lot to grapple with. 

“She’s my friend, Mela. We were just talking about school work, like friends do.” “But she was looking at you funny, like she was into you! What if she started coming onto you and made you all uncomfortable?” “Whatever helps you sleep at night…”

She huffs, but doesn’t protest. She’s jealous, alright, but she’s not about to admit it. At least her blushing face is cute. The rest of the walk to her dorm room is relatively silent.

Once the door is closed, she relinquishes the hold on your hand, throwing them around your form instead. She all but collapses into you with a groan. As rough and tough as she is, she’s a softy deep down. She’ll come out swinging against the people she gets jealous over, but always needs to recharge with many cuddles and soft kisses. 

And maybe you shouldn’t reward her behavior with sweet, sweet affection, even if it does come from a good place, because she just wants to protect you from getting hurt in the same way she was a year ago, but she looks so cute when her barriers are down, a state that she won’t be in for long before reverting to normal, everyday Mela.

get isekai’d into your gacha hell but every time you meet someone who has a soul-crushing heart-wrenching tear-inducing punch in the throat backstory you give them a non contextual hug (ft. 6reeze)

SOMETHING BORROWED

things of yours they keep with them when you’re away.

kaedehara kazuha, xiao, venti, scaramouche, albedo, childe, shikanoin heizou, hu tao, nagonohara yoimiya, kamisato ayaka x gender neutral reader.

wc: almost 1.4k total.

content: fluff, mild (very very mild) angst, they miss you.

reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

KAZUHA who keeps your scrunchie on his wrist at all times. you had to temporarily go your separate ways, because of a mission you had to complete. he wanted to accompany you, and at his puppy-like eyes and worried pout, you almost caved. but alas, he had business in inazuma for the time being. seeing the poet’s crestfallen expression, your own heart already aching at the temporary distance between you, you slipped your favorite silk hair-tie on your lover’s wrist. your tender lips sealed a wind-swept promise of hearts tied: “i’ll be back soon, my love.” your reassuring smile seems to sing; “my heart is always by your side, my dove.” kazuha’s scarlet glassy gaze whispers to you in the wind. the wandering samurai smiles. he can still feel the warmth of your kiss soft against his skin.

XIAO who gently holds the petals of the now dry qingxin you once placed in his hair. the vigilant yaksha hates the idea of you having to embark alone on this journey. but it’s not like he can leave liyue unattended, that’s not what you wanted, anyway. so now the adeptus wonders, and waits. waits hoping to not hear your name calling his voice in the wind. that would mean you are in danger. no, xiao chides himself, he can’t think like that; he has to believe you will be alright. you reassured him, after all, your smile the bright crystalflies that shine upon his darkest nights. he will wait until you return, just as you always do, with only the stars for company on the nights bloodshed is all xiao knows before your arms envelop him.

VENTI who longingly eyes the (now empty) bottle of dandelion wine you gifted to him on your guys anniversary. the usual cheerful sunshine in him is dimmed by the semi-opaque stained glass of the bottle in his hands, memories of your kiss and the wind through your hair swirling like a lethal and addictive liquor. venti knows you will be safe, you are the anemo archon’s beloved; yet still, a pout draws on his sweet lips when he thinks of how you left before sunrise, only a note and a cecilia flower to keep him company in the meantime. so the windborne bard reminisces. if he closes his eyes, he can almost feel the tickle of your lips on the back of his neck. soon enough, he tells himself, teal sky eyes reflecting the rainbows the midday sun casts through the crystal bottle.

SCARAMOUCHE who doesn’t separate of your favorite plushie. you entrusted it to him before your departure, as an oath of sorts, to come back, safe, sound and soon. the wanderer’s gaze of iridic constellated hyacinths regards your plushie with fondness once more, before slipping it under his hat. it won’t be alone there, he thinks, for the doll that accompanies him everywhere is there too. and both will keep company to his once hollowed heart, now full, the previous black hole, filled with galaxies of you, your smiles and tender touches, an expanding nebula of rose-colored waking dreams. you and your affection, a universe inside of him, warm and happy; a place where birds always sing, somewhere you took him to stay. together. somewhere he can keep smiling, the tug on his lips too intense to be concealed by the midnight of half-hearted scowls. he looks up. it’s a starry night. scaramouche wonders if you are looking up at the sky too.

ALBEDO whose love for you runs so deep, he doesn’t even need a material object. the vivid image of your features is engraved in that brilliant mind of his. and to the world, he will show the gilded petals of your beauty; a new blank canvas, his realm to command, every colorful brushstroke rendering you in everlasting bloom. as flickering icy diamonds flutter to the ground, sundry hues blanket his canvas. a masterpiece in the making, the frigid howling winds upon the dragonspine mountains, the orchestra for the climax of this play. you, his muse. him, the starring role, destined to make you shine, shine, shine. because even in his memories, you will forever be bright as golden morning dew upon the most glorious sunrise. the alchemist paints. minutes tick by. your return is nearer with every new patch of ground covered in the color of chalk.

CHILDE who holds the pillow where you dream on close to his heart after sundown. ginger hair all tousled, ocean eyes devoid of the light you bring to them, his arms tighten around the pillow. oh, how you reduce the war-honed harbinger to the likes of a lovesick boy. inhaling the lingering scent of your perfume on the bed covers, ajax resigns himself to your temporary absence. he always hated when you had to go on missions by yourself. but harbinger orders are absolute, not much he can do there. turning around, childe lays on his side, his fingers tracing your cold pillow, in the same motions you always do when connecting the freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. “they are my favorite stars.” you always told him, bopping his nose. a smile lights up the warrior’s face at the thought of you. ajax hopes you can see your favorite stars again shortly.

HEIZOU who stays up late into the night, re-reading the entries penned by you in the journal where you record cases solved together. before you came around, the young detective was used to working solo, but, as if in a flash, you changed that. since you two partnered up, it is rare to see one of you without the other. that’s why, to him, it’s so hard to bear being without you, even for a short while. sighing, heizou’s emerald eyes close momentarily, his fingertips still resting over your handwriting. he closes the leather-bound book, the warmth emanating from his bedside candle, orange behind his eyelids. he wishes to feel your warmth again very soon.

HU TAO who fiddles with her new silver ring. you got it together at a stall during lantern rite, the funeral parlor director’s vivacious eyes rivaling the xiao lanterns floating in the sky. yet now, her soul lingers in the dream-like ghost of instants together. she misses you. it’s not unusual for you to be out on commissions for a while, but this time your travel will take longer. what if… no, hu tao shakes her head, she can’t think like that. she’s been keeping track of the souls entering the other world and you seem to be okay but… the director closes her igneous eyes. the coldness of the ring you got for her grounds her, rowing her spirit to sunnier shores. the sky is so blue… it seems like a good omen.

YOIMIYA whose ambarine gaze studies a particular firework note. yours. the one she produced for you the first time you set foot in her shop; the one you lit up together the night your feelings for each other were spelled out in the sky. to you, yoimiya was the sun. but even clouds can shadow the brightest of stars when its moon is not there to catch it. with a sigh, the queen of the summer festival stands up. this won’t do, yoimiya tells herself. carefully putting away the note, she steps out. the night’s air moonlit sparks grace her skin. she smiles. the moon is full, high in the sky.

AYAKA who clutches the omamori you gifted her before your trip. her gentle icy eyes focus on it. “so you don’t miss me too much.” you told her, as you put the amulet in her hands, your lips resting against her cheeks that turned the color of cherry blossoms in bloom. the shirasagi himegimi chuckles, a note caught between wistfulness and fondness. years before, ayaka would have never imagined she’d get to know someone so deeply, to call them her beloved. yet here she is, dreaming of sailing the horizon, to new lands with you. a sweet scented breeze blows by, a slight rain of satin rosy petals surrounding her. her silvery gaze casts upwards. the horizon is pink too. ayaka wishes to see a ship gliding across it very soon.