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prettyboykatsuki · 7 months

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VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human.

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf.

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest.

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate.

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves.

And looking back on your interactions he was right, Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.”

“Why would it not be important?”

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing.

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?”

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek.

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.”

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?”

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?”

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for.

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross.

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode.

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too.

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical.

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that.

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him.

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees.

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself.

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do.

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence?

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow.

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack)

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home.

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it.

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath.

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm.

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,”

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?”

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.”

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.”

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.”

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.”

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile.

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.”

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.”

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand.

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm.

“It’s okay.”

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point.

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?”

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.”

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively.

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.”

You stare at him, jaw slack.

“Right. And what else?”

He racks his brain right in front of you.

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.”

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?”

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes.

“Yes.”

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty.

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?”

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up.

“Yes. A lot.”

You nearly choke on your spit.

“A lot?”

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.”

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow.

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now.

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?”

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried.

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.”

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.”

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before.

Like he wants you.

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.”

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed.

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,”

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.”

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.”

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you.

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.”

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay”

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid.

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating. It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair.

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?”

He nods, dumbfounded.

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.”

You giggle, delighted with the outcome.

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head. He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen.

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too.

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.”

He’s quiet.

“Like pup?”

You laugh.

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.”

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you.

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart.

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you.

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be.

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,”

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.”

You nearly whimper.

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.”

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.”

A beat of silence.

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?”

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.”

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling.

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt”

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional.

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.”

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most.

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.”

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that.

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.”

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.”

“I want to see yours.”

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.”

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply.

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.”

“Want to help. Teach me.”

“...Teach you?”

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.”

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more.

“Watch,”

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest.

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard.

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.”

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice.

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.”

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt.

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit.

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den.

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them.

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar.

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears.

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.”

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you.

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath.

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face.

“Archons, just. Come here.”

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him.

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,”

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.”

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?”

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.”

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees.

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome.

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply.

“Fuck,”

“R-razor?”

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.”

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?”

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper.

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,”

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face.

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie.

Razor is starting to feel it too him.

“Inside so, ngh - hot. S-something coming, going to—”

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.”

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy.

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.”

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum.

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you.

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak.

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you.

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?”

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding.

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?”

#razor x reader #gensnhin impact x reader #razor smut #genshin impact smut #writing tag #posts this then disappears forever

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belphegorskiss · 9 months

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𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𓆩♡𓆪

he’s excited. he heard about it months before and he’s been preparing himself for the release. he insisted that you accompany him to the mall to shop for all pink outfits together (forces you to match with him as well). when it’s finally release day, he all but explodes once you get to your seats. whispers in your ear the whole time at every single scene. bought the barbie cup too (it was sixty dollars).

venti, kaveh, lyney.

scoffed when he saw all the cutesy posters and flashy promotion. looked disgruntled at everyone’s enthusiasm. dragged his feet to the theater and begrudgingly went along since he knew you wanted to see it. he expects nothing when he’s there, but finds himself pleasantly surprised by the true depth of the movie. deeply enjoys it, but is too ashamed to admit how much he did.

xiao, wanderer, diluc.

thinks little to nothing of the movie when you tell him about it. assumes it’s supposed to be targeted towards little kids so he feels surprised when you’re so enthusiastic about going. when you both actually see the movie together, he feels surprised by all the adult jokes and themes in it. you even hear him giggle a bit. overall, he thought the movie was funny. he mostly enjoyed that it made you happy.

kaeya, ayato, childe, baizhu, heizou.

doesn’t know what a barbie is. the feminist themes fly over his head a bit. but he watches it with you and he likes the colors and the way it’s shot. he thinks some parts are funny. you’re happy, so he’s happy too.

razor, bennett, chongyun.

“i’d rather watch oppenheimer,” he says. his statement is quickly rescinded when he sees how furious you look. stares at his phone for most of the movie, looking bored. until the second half of the movie plays. he watches the monologue attentively, and decides to give it a chance. he actually enjoys it and thinks the feminist themes are very relevant. cried a little bit at the end when barbie spoke with barbara.

alhaitham, dainsleif.

goes in with an open mind, choosing not to make any assumptions and not even viewing the promotional material. he goes into the cinema with absolutely zero expectations and actually has a fun time with you. he mostly watches you during the movie, paying attention to your reactions, your laughter, and how your expression shifts during the more morose scenes. when it’s over, he asks you about every scene, discussing the whole thing with you. he just loves the way your eyes light up with excitement.

kazuha, thoma, albedo, xingqiu, pantalone, zhongli.

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hardly-an-escape · 6 months

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A Close Shave | Dream/Hob | 2150 words | Rated G

tags: retired!Dream, shaving, unmitigated yearning and longing, the pining is probably mutual but you only get Hob's POV

“Been meaning to ask," Hob says. "How are you feeling about... this?"

He gestures to his chin, the stubble there, and across the table, Dream slowly puts down his spoon. Even more slowly, he raises one hand to his own chin and runs the backs of his fingers along the newly-grown layer of hair there.

It’s been a little over a month, and by now Hob is used to the speed – or rather, lack thereof – with which Dream finds it necessary to live his freshly-human life. A month, since Dream had chosen to live, and chosen to live with Hob, taking over the spare room and filling it with books and soft cardigans and snacks as he learned his own likes and dislikes as Dream-the-human.

It still feels to Hob as though there’s a minor miracle sitting across the breakfast table, now thoughtfully fondling the brand-new beard on his chin.

“Ah,” Dream says eventually. “You mean this. The hair on my face. Yes, I have noticed it.”

“I’ve never seen you with a beard before,” Hob says neutrally.

“I suppose I never felt the need to manifest one when I visited the Waking World,” Dream says. He returns most of his attention to his oatmeal. It still requires some concentration, to hold the spoon steady; to make sure it reaches his mouth without spilling. Hob watches for a moment, impressed all over again with Dream’s willingness to try.

“Does it bother you, having one now?” he asks.

“Why would it bother me? It is a part of my body, is it not?”

Hob, wisely, refrains from mentioning the other body parts and functions – the sunburn, the stubbed toe, the sensations of hunger and dizziness and nausea, the need for sleep and to relieve himself – which have bothered Dream an inordinate amount over the past four weeks.

“But do you like it?” Hob presses gently. “I mean, one of the great things about being human is that it’s pretty easy to change our looks, generally speaking. Maybe not as easy as just… manifesting. But still. You get to choose what you look like, whether it’s a beard or clean-shaven, or, or pink hair. Or anything. Infinite variety.”

Dream puts his spoon down again and brings both hands up to his face. His palms cup either side of his chin and his long, narrow fingers stroke gently, from the downy hairs peppering his cheekbones, down into the hollows of his cheeks (not quite as gaunt as they used to be, Hob notes with a swell of gratitude), and then along the line of his chin to where it ends in a devastating little point.

In the morning light, with his face framed by those artistic fingers and a look of such solemn concentration on his features, he looks like a statue; a religious icon, perhaps, contemplative and blessed. His eyes are closed and his rosebud of a mouth is very pink and very slightly open.

Hob has to dig his fingernails into his own thigh to stop himself from reaching out and running his own fingers down Dream’s cheek, or brushing his thumb along that unfairly soft-looking bottom lip.

“Hm,” Dream says finally. “I do not think I dislike the beard. But equally, I am not sure that I like it. I am not sure that my face… feels like me.”

“Well,” Hob says. “You can shave it off, if you want. See if you feel more like yourself. I can – I can help you. Obviously.”

Obviously. Obviously. He supposes it is obvious – it must be – how desperately he wants to help Dream. How abject his desire to make this fragile, human life a little more bearable, in any small way he can.

“Yes,” says Dream. “I would… like that. Thank you.”

Hob drags a kitchen chair into the bathroom. Digs out his softest hand towel and wets it with hot water before wrapping it carefully around Dream’s face and neck. He chatters idly as he gathers his supplies: random recollections about his favorite Turkish bath in London, which had gone out of business during the Great War, and the Russian steambaths and Finnish saunas he’s seen during his travels.

He doesn’t use his old straight razor much anymore, preferring a good reusable safety razor for himself when he’s going clean shaven, but he’s always found a well-honed, old-fashioned cutthroat to be more comfortable when shaving someone else. And he keeps his razors, like any tool, in good condition whether he’s using it regularly or not; the mother-of-pearl handle is clean and polished, the joint moves smoothly, and the blade gleams.

Dream watches through hooded eyes as Hob strops the razor and mixes up the suds of shaving foam. He loads up the soft bristle brush before removing the towel and making sure Dream is positioned in front of the mirror.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Hob says. “I’m going to start by just doing your neck and cheeks, clean up the edges a bit. You might like it more when it looks like an intentional beard, not just a couple weeks’ worth of shaggy growth. And if you’re still not feeling it, we’ll shave the rest. Sound okay?”

Dream nods, and Hob goes to work.

Touching Dream is – not difficult, not exactly. If anything, it’s too easy. Hob’s fingertips hunger for the soft brush of Dream’s skin, for the fluff of his dark hair, for his stubble and his slender hands and the little creases in the corners of his eyes. In those earliest mad days, when Dream hadn’t even been strong enough to walk on his own, Hob had manhandled him matter-of-factly. He’d helped him walk, and dress, and eat; taught him how the bathtub worked and washed his body, cheerfully ignoring the furious flush on Dream’s face at the indignity of needing to be cared for. They’d gotten through it.

He’s mature enough to admit to himself that he misses it, now that Dream has gained enough strength of body and mind to do it all for himself. There’s something so intimate about that contact with another person: about being needed in that particular intense way. It’s heady. The longing for it almost chokes him, sometimes, with how badly he wants it: to hoist Dream in his arms and cradle him against his chest. To wash his hair and rub him gently dry. To hold a cup of water or warm milk to those perfect lips.

But Hob, for all his faults, is trying so hard not to be an asshole these days. So he doesn’t touch Dream that way, now that it isn’t needed – now that he isn’t needed. No matter how much he might like to.

Until now.

Now, for just a moment, he lets himself indulge. Runs his hungry fingertips along the soft, vulnerable curves of Dream’s throat and the firmer lines of his jaw as he brushes on the shaving foam. Tips his head gently this way and that, revels guiltily in how biddable Dream is as he sits quietly in the chair.

Hob takes his time with the actual shaving, both out of caution (perhaps even a bit of terror, that he might inadvertently mark that precious skin) and out of a desire to linger over the experience for as long as he can get away with. Unfortunately, shaving just a person’s neck doesn’t really take that long, regardless of how carefully one does it. Within just a handful of minutes, he is carefully wiping the last spot of soap from the hollow of Dream’s throat and turning him fully toward the bathroom mirror.

“What do you think?” he asks.

Dream doesn’t answer right away. He turns his head from side to side, surveying his reflection. Then he tilts his chin up and runs his fingers down the newly-soft skin of his neck. Hob’s fingertips tingle. He knows the sensation Dream is experiencing, knows it intimately: the smoothness of the hairless skin, the slight tackiness of the moisturizer. Knows it from his own face, and from the faces of lovers over the decades, and even from poor, long-dead Robyn’s face, when he’d taught his son to shave.

He doesn’t say anything, and after a moment Dream meets his eye in the mirror.

“I think I would like to have the rest of it off,” he says. “If you would not mind…?”

“No problem,” says Hob softly.

They go through the whole ritual once more: the hot towel, mixing up the foam. Hob strops the razor again, just to be sure. This time he carefully rubs a little pre-shave oil into Dream’s beard to soften the hairs as much as possible, then covers his face with the thick foam.

“I don’t really know if the oil does much,” he admits, “but the last time I went for a proper shave at a barber’s, the bloke who did it swore by the stuff. I guess I’m a sucker for a good upsell. And it does smell nice.”

It takes much longer this time, of course. He finishes the first pass, wipes Dream’s face, lathers him again and goes for a second pass. He leaves Dream’s sideburns mostly alone, just taking them up enough to blend in with the hair falling shaggy over his ears – if Dream wants a haircut that will have to be another adventure, to a real barber or a salon, because Hob doesn’t trust himself with that kind of artistry, not where Dream is concerned.

He narrates as he goes, describing the best angle to hold the blade, how to gently pull the skin taut to avoid nicks, when to go with the grain of the hair and when to scrape against it. Reminiscing further on his favorite barbers and spas and on a broad history of facial hair and shaving. He is babbling a bit, he knows, but he tells himself it’s for educational purposes; that this kind of general knowledge could potentially serve Dream well as he navigates a new human life.

He’s certainly not talking in order to distract himself from the sensation of Dream’s skin and the soft sounds of Dream’s breath, or to stop himself from saying something much more revealing and embarrassing. Like how he wants to take care of Dream for the rest of time. Or how badly he wants to see if his skin is as soft all the way down as it is in the tender place just behind his ear. Or how fiercely grateful he is that Dream has chosen to live, to try, to be here, to sit in a kitchen chair and eat oatmeal, to sit in this bathroom and let Hob run his fingers down the line of his jaw, over and over, trying to memorize the feeling of every inch of skin he’s allowed to touch as he runs the razor over the valleys of Dream’s cheeks.

He will never run out of words to say to Dream – or words he wishes he could say – but eventually he does run out of skin to shave. At his direction, Dream leans over the sink and rinses his face with cold water, then gently pats in aftershave while Hob meticulously dries his razor and clears away the shaving tackle.

Then it’s quiet in the little bathroom for a long, long moment while Dream reexamines his face in the mirror.

“Well?” Hob says eventually, so low it’s almost a whisper. He allows himself one last touch. Drops his hand onto Dream’s shoulder and squeezes gently.

Dream makes eye contact in the mirror, and Hob is shocked by a swift bolt of recognition. Here, in front of him, is Dream – his Stranger, his centennial mystery – so different, so human, and yet, suddenly, so familiar. It could almost be 1489 again, save the electric lighting; his hair is nearly long enough, and the imperious pout is back on his lips.

And then he opens his mouth.

“Hob, I –” he trails off. Breathes. “I am me.”

Hob squeezes his shoulder again. “Of course you are.”

“No, you misunderstand. I – I recognize myself,” Dream says, unconsciously echoing Hob’s thoughts. “I see a man, and he looks like me.” He meets Hob’s eye in the mirror once again. “I – thank you.”

Dream’s eyes are, unaccountably, welling up with tears, as beautiful and delicate as the rest of him. Hob does the only thing he can think to do, which is to drop his chin to Dream’s shoulder, lay his own hairy cheek alongside Dream’s newly-smooth, freshly-scented face, wrap his arms around Dream’s bony chest, and hold him.

One of Dream’s hands comes up and wraps itself around Hob’s wrist, and they stay that way for a long time: Dream in the kitchen chair, in front of the bathroom mirror, and Hob behind him, holding him, crouched somewhat uncomfortably, but exactly where he wants to be.

---

this has been languishing in my drafts for absolute ages and I wish it hadn't taken me so ding dang long but it is what it is || this two cakes situation is inspired by @watercubebee's art and dedicated to her and @valeriianz 🎂🎂 || art, Kris's ficlet (plus part two)

read on AO3 >>>

#hello I am once again posting barely edited fics in the wee hours AS IS MY WONT #do you know how long I've had a tab open with the wikihow article on shaving with a straight razor?? it's been WEEKS #someday I will improve on my current writing speed of twelve words per day smh #my writing #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling

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birdmitosis · 5 months

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Okay, I was watching someone's VOD because I can't get enough Slay the Princess content and some people have gotten variations on routes I've never even seen before!!! I have somehow never seen the variation of The Razor where you start off with Hunted and Paranoid right away in Chapter 3, and I was not prepared for how funny Paranoid's unique dialogue lines are there.

If you choose to flirt with The Razor for your first option, while Hero and Hunted are like "I'd rather not":

(Paranoid pls) And if you choose The Look option:

(PARANOID PLS) (And I've definitely seen Hunted's line before but I always kinda forget how funny that is, too, when Hero is confused:

I think it's the matter-of-fact delivery of it, LOL) Also, after she kills you, the part with the Cheated is hilarious too because, like, usually to me it looks like he's mostly really talking to Broken, but:

And his line when Cheated suggests we start stacking Voices isn't as funny per se but I do want it as personal reference because it's interesting to me:

Final note: I am actually pretty sure that outside The Adversary's route when the Narrator flat-out admits to you that if you think something it becomes real, and The Apotheosis's route where IIRC he says something similar to you about giving her power, Paranoid is the only one of the Voices who independently lands on the concept without any leading:

(I've seen this line before, too, but I do really like that little detail.)

#i actually totally forgot about that line while writing chapter 2 despite seeing it and really liking it before #i might need to add in a small line of paranoid being like “i knew it!” LOL #slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers #the princess #the razor #voice of the paranoid #voice of the hunted #voice of the cheated #voice of the broken #i love the razor everything about her entire path is so good #one of my top favorite princesses for sure

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razorblade180 · 2 years

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Interdimensional Mom master post

Intro

Dragonslayer

White Knight

Knight Shade

Lancaster

Hope people had a good Mother’s Day

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #rwby lasting embers #rwby rosebud #rwby twin snowflakes #rwby premonition #razor writes

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elysianeclipxe · 1 year

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Genshin males as love languages

genre: fluff again

summary: ones love language is a staple to strengthening each relationship, so what exactly are their love languages? (more on giving but still receiving)

word count: 1.1k

sidenote: did i get carried away with this... maybe. oh, i changed it to receiving/giving gifts to fit the theme better. also i put the underage male characters here as well since it is not suggestive so blehh

Words of Affirmation

Words hold a special meaning to them, and they like to share that with you. It just comes to them naturally. Whether it be ‘you look absolutely amazing’, ‘I appreciate you so much’, ‘we’ll get through this’, or even ‘I love you’, they make sure to tell you these things every second of the day. Constantly wants to remind you that you have impacted their life for the better. I think it’s super romantic how they, although some are shy, put their feelings out there. They never half ass their compliments either, it comes from the bottom of their heart and they say it with so much thought and love in their eyes. THEY CAN LITERALLY MAKE YOU MELT OMGGG 😳😫 no offence but some of them come up with the weirdest phrases but it strangely works for you. Be sure to reciprocate with your own words since it helps them feel appreciated and loved too. It comes with details and a little rant on how you are in their eyes, you deserve everything and they’ll be sure to tell you that till the end. They are a modern day Romeo. The best thing is that their words stretch into the other languages.

— ALBEDO, diluc, kazuha, xingqiu, zhongli

Acts of Service

These are the people who would willingly do nice things for you to make you feel loved and to show their appreciation for you. Goes by the message “actions speak louder than words”, cause they cannot for the love of all things good say the right words, most of them anyway. They prefer to make your life easier and make you feel like fucking royalty CAUSE YOU DESERVE IT!!! You are basically the centre of their life so it is only right that they treat you as such. Depending on their abilities they can do a lot of things. The usual things they do is put away your things if you’re too tired to do so, make you a cup of coffee (or whatever) for your morning boost, offer to hold the heavy groceries, and PUT DOWN THE TOILET SEAT!!! LITERALLY THANK YOU, MARRY ME PLS 🤲💍 They just want you to know that they are there for you and you don’t have to hold the weight of everything. They are there to support you and will make sure you remember that you deserve to take it easy once in a while.

— aether, alhaitham, dainsleif, gorou, XIAO

Receiving/Giving Gifts

This is pretty straightforward, they give you gifts, big or small. The way you’re on their mind 24/7, they literally be y/n obsessed at this point. I like to think that they’re the type to constantly be in a daze and people look at them and are saying “can you think about the topic instead of you s/o for once?” These men for sure have that moneyy to treat their s/o, you are their world so yeah. They like to take their time when gift shopping for you hoping that the meaning or thought behind it gets to you. All gifts don’t have to be seen as materialistic, some of them actually make it themselves… AWWWWWWW y’all my heart cannot handle this cuteness. Handmade letters, promise rings, stuffed animals, even a food box that has your favourite foods you mentioned during your first date. Do not underestimate their ability to be romantic, cause they are so damn romantic omg. They especially love seeing you understand the meaning behind the gift and keeping it for the long run, maybe they should make you more gifts.

— AYATO, chongyun, kaeya, mika, tighnari

Quality Time

In their eyes, presence and attention are two very different things. They would much rather give you their undivided attention, and that goes for the opposite way as well. Will put anything aside just to listen to you talk for hours, loves to learn and understand you more. Will drag you along to who knows where and take a walk with you to discuss literally anything. The idea of creating special memories between you both makes his heart grow fonder. Just being one-on-one with you means so much to them, you have no idea. Will surely be the type to mark dates on their calendar and hates when dates or such are forgotten or postponed. This may just be me, but I think they love photos or paintings or certain days. It’s like a reminder of the time spent on that specific day. EYE CONTACT IS A FUCKING MUST!! They are quite attentive and participate in your convos, which is so attractive cause you know they’re listening and are putting effort in it. Even the simplest things like eating dinner with no distractions, taking a walk, or going on a road trip is enough for them.. for a while at least.

— baizhu, bennett, CYNO, heizou, thoma, wanderer

Physical Touch

Love to them is being there both emotionally and physically. They love giving even the slightest touches, it sparks that little chemistry between you two. They totally love receiving this as much as giving, this is just a really intimate thing for them. Kissers, hand holding, light touches, and especially hugs are a daily, maybe even hourly thing you receive. Their favourite sight is seeing you in their arms all relaxed and warmed up from their body heat. Definitely not the type to shy away from doing any type of pda, in fact they will love it if you lean in when they give you affection. Just lean in, okay? I promise you will see their gummy smile because of that, plus a wave of ‘need to show my love more’ will hit them. Mornings are for sure filled with kisses all over your face, the classic ‘5 more minutes’ in bed with you, and whispers of ‘I love you’ as they pull you closer to them. I WILL RUN TO THEM FOR THIS FR 😐 but also, this is a way to remind you that they are there with you.

— CHILDE, itto, kaveh, razor, venti

Ones who fit all categories

The kind who literally is the epitome of love language, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I could go on and on about them but that might make y’all want to stop reading lol. ANYWAYS, they are so sweet and think about you all the time, they love to plan future days to make some time for y’alls date, fancy or not. They just love spending any free time they have with you. Treats you no less than the best, quality treatment right here. Just saying they are the definition of boyfriend material, maybe even husband material wink wink. All the love languages apply to them tbh. They just love showering you in their love. The type to make you question if you deserve them but they’ll be the one to reassure you that what you’re thinking is totally bonkers and that they’re the one who doesn’t deserve you. AHHHHH STOP I’M GETTING JEALOUS!!! Just be sure to cherish them as much as they cherish you, with relationships comes give and take, balance is the basis. Plus, if you don’t cherish them.. I’ll gladly date them instead mwahahaha

— THOMA 😍😍 (SHOUT OUT TO ALL THE THOMA STANS)

Hopefully this helps fill y'alls dose of reading hehe <33 hope you all enjoyed reading!! thank you as well for 100 followers mwahh

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0v3rcast · 11 months

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Imagine:

You, Great Creator of Teyvat, in the life before returning to your loving creations, contract lycanthropy. Beneath the moon, your body breaks and reforms as a great beast of the hunt.

Upon returning to the world you made, that power is now within your grasp, instead of the other way around. You don't need to lock yourself in a secure place every month or desperately resist the allure of raw animal meat - you can just toggle the Mighty Awoo Form whenever you please.

The people of Teyvat don't really understand what it is about a child raised by literal wolves that has their Creator so enamored, but it's kind of something they envy.

All the money in the world means nothing, flying is a vague passing fancy, walking on water or making bonfires from nothing or summoning lightning are just kind of given a pat on the back for.

But this dog boy who isn't even fully literate is constantly being given little favors, like randomly getting steaks or a bunch of animals coming into the area his pack lives in so they don't go hungry.

Speaking of dog boys, Gorou is more than a little flustered by the fact that the Architect of Eternity favors him.

(It's the one thing he can hold over Yae Miko when she's terrorizing him, and he's all the more grateful to you for that protection.)

At some point, one of your very envious and flustered acolytes come to you and ask just what it is about the pair that has given them such favor in your eyes.

Your response is an invitation to all of your acolytes to a special room of the palace on the night of the full moon.

They're all very excited to see this room, which up until now has been off limits.

Upon entering, that excitement becomes concern because of the massive claw marks in every wall and also the heavy scent of blood and the fainter scent of rot.

Once they've gathered, and the moon has reached its apex in the sky, you reach back in your soul for the Wolf Within.

It reaches back, tail wagging a thousand miles an hour, eager and happy to be free to roam.

And you undergo the change.

They watch in something like horrified reverence as your mortal form is warped and ravaged by something from within, something making their Divine Creator into a beast.

And you stand again, the shift over, now completely towering over every other being in the room.

(Because I love Okami, I'm gonna say your holy werewolf form has the cool swirls and red outlines that Ammy does

but with a twist- instead of red, glimmering blue starlight adorns your fur, and the massive disc hovering behind you is made of perfect moonstone, connected stars softly drifting up from it, briefly forming constellations, and then vanishing.)

Razor BEAMS. The All-Maker was Lupical before, but now you're like Ultra Lupical! You are a wolf-person too, but, like, up to 11! You even have your own moon!

Gorou's smiling, his tail wagging rapidly. You know what it's like to have instincts like his, no wonder you were so considerate of his sensitivity to sound and smell, to his urges to chase- you had them all too.

Others range from 'absolutely flabbergasted' to 'weeping with jealousy' to 'a little worried why they're attracted to you being A Magical Wolf Person'.

You howl, and every other canine thing on the continent howls with you (including Razor, who is a wolf in spirit at the very least).

Andrius is having a big puppyish field day over the fact that the Celestial Packmaster is so close to his own form.

(He brags constantly to the other spirit animals of the world about how You definitely made him in Your image and gave him Razor to pass on the way of the wolf to, even if you didn't directly or indirectly do this.)

(The Adepti, for the first in probably millennia, feel their heart rates pick up in animal fear because if you so desired, they would be Back On The Menu, and no amount of running or flying would save them from the stamina of an enhanced human body mixed with the strength and speed of a divine wolf.)

You make sure your other hybrid or supernatural followers are well aware that you have nothing against them and that if you decide to go on a hunt, there's always space for them in your pack.

It becomes common for shrines to you to have guardian animals, dogs or wolves especially, and for hunters to bring your shrines the first kill they make under the light of the full moon every month.

(Maybe thanks to you 'accidentally' saying things out loud when you think you're alone, rumors start spreading that those with nonhuman traits (horns, animal ears and tails, nonhuman limbs) were descended from your favored servants or perhaps even your children.

And maybe that action means that those who've been ostracized for their nonhuman traits can live safer, happier lives, without the fear of rejection or the enmity of their neighbors.

But that's your little secret. They don't need to know.)

#genshin sagau #razor is a good boy #genshin impact x reader (platonic)#sagau #gorou is a good boy #werewolf reader #im having a good time writing these

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snekjoy · 4 months

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Sometimes I see Razor headcanons that say he has sharp teeth or fangs because he was raised by wolves and while that's adorable and I do sometimes write or draw that, I also like the idea that he has nothing like that at all.

No defining traits that point him out as a wolf. Nothing that lets him look at a mirror and see anything but a human pretending.

He longs for fangs and claws and fur, and when he runs with the pack he sometimes feels like he does have them, but at the end of the day he stares into the lake and his body stares back, stubbornly human.

His claymore weighs heavy in his hand, his iron claws, his steel fangs. He can't shake the daunting knowledge of its fakeness. He has nothing. If he were to brush his hair, put an adventurers guild uniform on, and learn how to act like a human, there'd be no difference between him and Bennett. There's nothing he can use as proof. No leverage to help himself solidify his reality. No matter how hard he wishes, or how long he wants, he'll never run with padded paws or hunt with claws and fangs, because all he has are feet, nails and teeth. All he has is a body that separates itself from how he feels- a horrifying dichotomy between boy and animal, an excruciating sense of wrong when he sees himself and feels the need to hunch, to hide, to run away on all fours and curl up in Andrius's fur and howl rather than cry, because wolves don't cry.

The tears fall anyway.

#he's so transmasc #its unreal #genshin impact #razor genshin #razor genshin impact #genshin razor #genshin impact razor #writing

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seneon · 24 days

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Hello there! I’m not sure if you finished the Mashle manga/watched the anime episodes yet. So if no, maybe Abyss x Reader where they are kind but would kill for him? If yes, then a Kaldo x Reader who always manages to make him flustered?

Only respond if you’re requests are open!🙏🏻🫶🏻❤️✨

i'll do abyss and kaldo, kaldo will be in a different fic 🫡 soz if both are too short! i seem to have lost the ability to write long fics 😭😭 here's the kaldo one.

house of lang, belonging to the souls with abilities and strong ambitions. the house where most of the students are a bit on the aggressive side, often preferring to do things their own way or with violence and the sort.

would the school be shambles when a student who is supposed to go anywhere else but lang actually exists?

a nice, kind, and caring soul. a little too soft to be in lang. perhaps very much weak. such a different personality amongst the ambitious. but who cares? it's not like you can do anything about it. the sorting unicorn determined which house you belong to, and you follow it.

what happens when an innocent soul is found guilty upon the rumoured and ongoing murders who has tried to engrave poison on the name of their one and only, abyss razor? the third year who only seemingly praises and worships abel walker all the time. he doesn't know you are quite like him, obsessed with abyss so much that he's like the abel to your abyss.

perhaps that is why you are sorted into lang. your ambitious tendencies to keep abyss and his image safe is what's more terrifying than your kindness.

#abyss razor #abyss razor x reader #mashle #mashle: magic and muscles #mashle abyss #mashle x reader #mashle x you #mashle fluff #mashle imagines #mashle magic and muscles #⋆ ❨ writing ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟

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silvervinewine · 1 year

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HOLDING THEIR HAND IN PUBLIC (w/ mondstadt gang)

immediately interlaces their fingers around your hand as they softly smile, holding you as if you are the most delicate glass they've come across. they lean into your touch, very much content.

↪ rosaria, kaeya, DILUC, albedo

they don't make any sudden movement despite their personality, instead they... look away noticibly more nervous than usual? they try to walk away as if nothing has happened, yet there is something bothering them.

↪ EULA, fischl, mona, lisa, RAZOR

looks at you and they start smiling like the sun, they lean in for a quick thoughtful kiss and they gleefully start swinging your hands as they walk with you.

↪ VENTI, BARBARA, amber

they freeze up, hands stiff, mind blank, blushing like an idiot. they look at you pointing at themselves, clearly wondering if your hands are meant for them. you nod, and they seem more upbeat than usual.

↪ BENNET, sucrose, jean, NOELLE

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solverse · 8 months

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A carol for the souls. (ii)

Quo; Give a character a song. (SAGAU)

Characters; Bennett, Fischl, Razor & Kaeya.

Notes; I really like the three as best friends and Kaeya is there as the responsible adult. This isn't a character study whatsoever, just a little self-indulgent fic.

Dics; Again, the intro is unbearably long because I can't seem to write one-shots under 1k words.

| (i) |

Ribs - Lorde

Bennett was having an amazing day! Not only that his bad luck had subsided a little for today, most of the unfortunate situations were him almost tripping over himself but gladly, his team was there to watch his back. Today was also one of the days when he was chosen by the Guide to go on an adventure.

Ever since Bennett had become a 'chosen' one, he had the opportunity and pleasure to meet different kinds of people and see tons of new places. Since he was an adventurer since he could ever walk, Bennett knew Monstadt like the back of his hand.

But never would he think he'd get a chance to see other regions as well! Monstadt was his home, the place where he knew he could return to – that was the kind of beauty Monstadt was. But the other regions held such a different aura and magnificence that Benette couldn't explain in words alone.

And what made all of that better was that he got to go with his friends. With Razor and Fischl, on their own very (miscellaneous) adventures around Tevyat! Razor and Fischl were his best friends and some of the best people he had ever known. Traveling with them to see different places, exploring, and fighting different bosses was a dream come true.

Oh, there was also Kaeya! Brother Kaeya who had been appointed as the responsible adult of the group and Bennett appreciated that sentiment, knowing that someone like Kaeya was watching their back anytime, lest any of them get into a dangerous situation.

On a simple day, they were traveling through the forest of Sumeru, after heeding the safety clause that a Forest Ranger had given them. Apparently, the ranger was someone Kaeya knew. Bennett had watched in fascination as the new green-haired girl groaned in embarrassment when she recognized the Cavalry Captain. Kaeya has a good time teasing her.

It was when they arrived at the riverside that Bennett finally noticed the eerie silence starting to settle in. Kaeya was the first to notice, followed by Razor who seemed alarmed at the sudden change in atmosphere. It seemed that the occurring background music had disappeared.

Bennett had known of this phenomenon, Barbara had told him about the random time when the Guide would start playing bizarre music. It happened to some 'chosen' ones, while some might go on their days never hearing this bizarre music.

Despite his bad luck and all, Bennett firmly believed that he has good eyes when it comes to people. It's just that Bennett sometimes overlooked his judgment so he could be friendly. But judging by his friends' reaction, only Fischl seemed experienced in this situation.

Well, that was a given since out of all of them, Fischl was one of the original and earliest 'chosen' ones, other than the Traveler. She had the guidance of the Guide more than Bennett could wish for. But don't get him wrong! He's extremely happy that one of his best friends was favored by the Guide.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard an unfamiliar sound, building up in an echo. It sounded like it was directly next to him and yet all over him too. The sound was soothing in a way that Bennett couldn't explain.

The drink you spilt all over me,

"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,

My mom and dad let me stay home,

It drives you crazy getting old,

Bennett almost jumped when the voice started singing before he calmed down. He felt embarrassed at the moment and couldn't focus on the song until a few seconds later. It was why he didn't quite catch the first few lyrics.

We can talk it so good,

We can make it so divine,

We can talk it good,

How you wish it would be all the time,

Bennett frowned and crossed his arms, even though he was giving his utmost attention, he still couldn't decipher what the lyrics meant. The music sounded really nice, it made him tingle all over his body in a good way.

The drink you spilt all over me,

"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,

My mom and dad let me stay home,

It drives you crazy getting old,

The drink you spilt all over me,

"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,

My mom and dad let me stay home,

It drives you crazy getting old,

The song repeated the lyrics again, as if giving Bennett another chance to find a meaning behind those words. But when he took a glance at Fischl, something was caught in his throat. Bennett had never seen that look on Fischl, one that told of memories and reminiscence. Without even knowing it, Bennett didn't realize how it was so different.

This dream isn't feeling sweet,

We're reeling through the midnight streets,

And I've never felt more alone,

It feels so scary getting old,

In a way, Bennett could understand it a little. Since he was a kid, Bennett had always been the 'unlucky' or 'cursed' kid that everyone stayed away from. Because if you ever get near him, you will get hurt too.

And that hurt a lot. Even as a child, hearing those words come from people who you wanted to know about, who you want to get along with, hurt a lot more than he wanted it to. Even now, Bennett couldn't bring it to ask himself if things got better now, as days passed by.

We can talk it so good,

We can make it so divine,

We can talk it good,

How you wish it would be all the time,

Looking back at all the stuff he had experienced, Bennett likes to say that they had built him into the person he is. A passionate adventure with a penchant for bad luck. It wasn't all that bad. Bennett likes to think that he was lucky in parts that others won't look at.

After all, the Unlucky-Boy was able to meet two kids who were outcasted by what society deemed unorthodox. Looking back at it, Bennett will always be grateful that his path, his fate, had crossed with Fischl and Razor.

He doesn't care much for the things others say about him, no matter how much it pained him to hear so. But Fischl and Razor was the best thing that happened to him, that's why Bennett wouldn't let anyone else say otherwise. Because of them, he felt like the luckiest person in the world.

The days of adventure they went on for the past years stayed firm and locked deep within his heart. People like to talk, they like to say. Words are powerful. The words they spout can be such a tool that made Bennett feel useless in a broken shed.

But actions are also powerful. Razor was raised by wolves his whole life, his speech manner was slower and shorter than others. Fischl had a lot of vocabulary, she spoke in a tongue-twisted manner that made anyone's head spin.

But, but– despite all of that, their actions are all so powerful to Bennett. The hold, pats, hair brushing, or simple gestures were all so powerful.

This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets,

And I've never felt more alone, feels so scary getting old,

Throughout Bennett's life, he learned that words can and will hurt sometimes. But even with that– actions can speak louder than words. So Bennett learned to not listen. He learned to see, to observe.

Because if he listened, if he heard, it would hurt him.

And Bennett thinks that it's endearing, amazing that Fischl and Razor showed their love with such simple actions. And throughout their cages of ages, Bennett learned to appreciate those gestures more and more.

And to realize that Bennett had never noticed any of that back then, it baffled him. But in a way, those little things– showed him something. Something that ached and warmed his heart. Something that made his eyes sting from the wave of sentiments crashing into him.

This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets,

And I've never felt more alone, feels so scary getting old,

Bennett sees them and they see him. That's enough to make his heart twist in the sweetest way possible because now he knew. Along with all their time of adventures and exploring, Bennett finally saw it all.

When he locked eyes with Razor's and then Fischl, Bennett didn't hide the giddy smile on his face. Razor looked confused at most, eyebrows furrowed while Fischl only deadpanned at him. And it's during those moments, Bennett saw it again.

Razor's red eyes were darker and the slim gray of his hair had also turned darker through the years. It was longer than Bennett remembered, Razor's hair was by his waist now.

Fischl seemed taller, eyes shining with a glint that Bennett recently discovered after the Archipelago event. She stood steadier and a lot more confident, not afraid to break out of her character anymore.

I want 'em back, I want 'em back,

The minds we had, the minds we had,

How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts,

Moved 'round our heads, moved 'round our heads,

I want 'em back, I want 'em back,

The minds we had, the minds we had,

It's not enough to feel the lack,

I want 'em back, I want 'em back, I want 'em,

It made Bennett a little sad as he listened to the lyrics, something echoing deep inside him as those words were sung. Truly, through his whole life, Bennett wondered if he could even experience it all again.

It might have been a bit painful, a bit reckless. But Bennett still thought back to the moment his path had crossed with Razor and Fischl. To the day when the luckiest boy was born by two unknowing hands that held onto him through all the rocky rides and all.

Something he held back with all his strength, never letting go.

And beginning that, Bennett saw all those changes.

You're the only friend I need (you're the only friend I need),

Sharing beds like little kids (sharing beds like little kids),

And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (laughing 'til our ribs get tough),

Bennett's breath hitched at that. As his eyes roamed to see his friends, the music echoing next to him, Bennett could only stare.

To this day, Bennett held the memories close and kept them deep within his heart, where no one would be able to take them away from him. Memories that kept him alive in moments when everything had gotten blurry for him to get through.

But that will never be enough (but that will never be enough),

It won't. That won't ever be enough because Razor and Fischl meant the world to him. They were his world. Maybe, maybe it was selfish of him to think that way, to preserve these memories like a glass ball when changes were inevitable in their life.

Growing up from the children they were once. Bennett wondered if he was any different from then.

You're the only friend I need (you're the only friend I need),

Sharing beds like little kids (sharing beds like little kids),

And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (laughing 'til our ribs get tough),

But that will never be enough (but that will never be enough).

Maybe it's selfish of him to want to stay with that innocence, where their ribs would hurt so much from laughing. Maybe it's selfish of him to stay in that mirage where the old days held him with a warmth that he couldn't explain as a child.

But those won't be enough. It won't be enough for them. So Bennett thinks that maybe it was fine, perhaps it was okay for him to keep holding onto these memories because they built the person he was today.

With Razor's calloused yet firm hand on his shoulder, Fischl's comforting voice echoing and Kaeya's hand brushing his hair, Bennett will cherish all of these moments.

( He wondered if they knew. Maybe that's why some needed a little bit of guidance. )

–

#I CANT STOP WRITING OVER 1k PLS GOD #anyway #genshin impact sagau #genshin fanfic #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #bennett #fischl #razor #kaeya alberich #carol #songs #genshin impact

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