☆*:.｡Genshin Playlist Oneshots

An Eccentric's Entropy | Veritas Ratio (Star rail again SHHH)

Entropy- The measure of a degree of disorder in a substance

"Will you stop your incessant whining?" Dr. Veritas Ratio groans, "I'd have thought spending more time with me would have caused your IQ to surpass at least a vegetable." You roll your eyes and slam your new research paper down on your colleague's desk.

"If you didn't want to be surrounded by idiots, you shouldn't have decided to teach at a university. Even if Stellaron University is prestigious, you're still teaching barely adults." You sigh with faux pity. "But I guess you didn't think that far, poor Dr. Ratio." Mockingly, you pet his head, the silky locks of violet slipping through your fingers as he grabs your wrist and forces it back on the desk.

"I'm not reading your paper." He shakes his head, brows furrowed and a scoff leaves his lips. Even though he looks up at you from his desk, the way he reclines on his chair so casually makes you feel small. It has always been like this. Veritas and his obnoxious attitude driving you up the walls. A prodigy yourself, the pursuit of knowledge has never been a struggle to you. Yes, it was challenging, but that was part of the fun. The thrill of tearing apart a formula and sinking your teeth in until it churns out a set of numbers that you like. This allowed you to be the top professor at Stellaron for almost three years straight, until Veritas. Veritas, who opposes almost everything that you do, from the way you prefer to use a whiteboard and pen and him a blackboard and chalk. The way your coffee is dark and his is sweetened with milk and sugar to the point it doesn't even look like coffee anymore. You didn't have a problem with this until he published a scientific paper which had quoted your own paper published a month prior, and pointed out how it was not mathematically viable. You still remember the smirk he wore on his face when he emailed you the manuscript for peer review, the audacity of this man to ask you to proofread the very paper he dedicated hours to just to prove your own wrong!

Naturally, your response is to ask him to do the same. But not with one email, but with twenty scheduled emails every other day. Sometimes, you like to add little emojis to the subject of your emails, and other times you embed links into the email that isn't your paper, but wikihow articles. This pettieness has caused many encounters with him, some ending rather... intimately. Of course, Veritas has not proofread your paper, and you didn't expect him to, so he has no idea how much you've referenced his paper and disproved it. This degree of disorder is what drives him crazy. You sew chaos into his life as he does to yours, and as the entropy of a heating substance increases the entropy of its surroundings, so too does the tension-filled competitiveness from one of you, causes the other to maniacally lust to overpower the other.

"Come on, read it. I know you want to." You slide the paper closer to him, your hands sliding across the epoxy finish of the oak desk. "Unless... You're scared I'm right." He stares up at you with eyes the same hue of gold as the award trophies that line the shelves of his classroom, and cocks a brow. He stands up, leaning over the desk and moving his face closer to yours. His cologne almost overpowers your perfume, the musky scent of pinewood and berries he reserves for winter mixing with your vanilla scented perfume, and it sends you into overdrive.

"Oh? I think someone is too overconfident." He remarks. You've noticed that there's always something up his sleeve, something that he uses at the last minute to defeat you, but you're getting better at recognising his patterns. And the way his deep voice becomes breathier, softer, akin to a snake's sinister hiss, you understand that you've gotten under his skin.

"You don't think enough, Veritas, that's your writing skills are bare bones and your papers hard to understand."

"Shut that mouth of yours." He grits his teeth further, finally sitting on the edge of his desk and flipping over your paper. You let out a small laugh and sit at his chair. He looks down at you disapprovingly as you do so, but you pay no mind to the fact you've sat yourself down on his throne, because your paper will definitely take him down a peg or two.

"In your bibliography, you spelt 'accessed' on your third source wrong." He points out, taking a red pen from his desk and removing the cap with his teeth, circling the typo as you burn with humiliation. "Oh my, your spacing for the first page and last page are different. How irritating it must be for your readers to be accustomed to one layout and then switch to another."

"It is just spacing, Veritas."

"It's more than that, dear, people like some organisation in their scientific papers. And your way of writing is chaotic! I should have known just by your handwriting and layout in sums." He tuts, petting your head in faux pity just as you did to him seconds ago.

"Read the damn paper, Dr. Ratio." You grit your teeth, now irritated that you've dedicated hours and hours bashing him in the footnotes, researching just so he can get a taste of his own medicine, for you to be corrected on your formatting.

"Patience." There is something downright Dionysean about his voice, if it were a colour, it would be the seductive shade of red wine, and just as addictive. Addictive like the many times where you two have come too close for comfort, like the one time you two were locked in the storage closet together, and you felt his strong arms encase your body as he helped you push the door open from behind. Or this one time at a work event where he made fun of your table manners and licked ice cream on the side of your face off directly. It made you feel red hot, just like the colour of his voice, and the way he acts too hot around you, too excitable. And you wanted more. A man who is cold and not very open with others, raring to go and one up you at every turn. The dichotomy makes your head spin, and this side of him only you know wants to make you explore him more. And you know just from the way he cocks his head and slides off the desk, that he's switching from sub-zero aloofness to scorching hot opposition.

He grabs the arms of the chair you sit in to push it so far it hits the wall so you are cornered against the blackboard.

"Actually." He muses, tilting your head up and sliding your hair to one side. "I want you to read it." He whispers, breath hot against your ear. "Read it, and I'll give you," he encircles your waist with one hand, "appropriate feedback."

He hands you the manuscript, and kisses your neck softly. His other hand, now free, unzips your skirt and you gasp as his fingers venture between your legs.

"Start reading. You're good at running your mouth, aren't you? Let's see how long that attitude lasts..."

—————

A/N

Hehehehe... Also! Linked to my new story is this shameless advertising!

꧁༒☬𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓔𝓵𝔂𝓼𝓲𝓪☬༒꧂

Are you interested in otome games, murder mysteries, or even just a compelling story? Look no further!

You, dear player, play a chosen protagonist who navigates through Elysia Palace posing as royalty, but the people around you are waiting for your downfall. Once you are warned of an assassination attempt at the yearly Moonbeam Ball, you have no choice but to draw the line between friend and foe. This story will be written in chapters but it is up to the players to make choices that will impact the ending of your protagonist!

Remember, dear Traveller, that temptation is always behind you...

(If you're a fan of otome games and murder mysteries, please access the story on our server, where the options you choose will impact the ending of the protagonist! Please join, we're a bit lacking in numbers!!)

https://discord.gg/Hg9d3sKthr