pearlywritings

[pearlywritings]

Helloo! I enjoy reading your work so much!! Could I request Albedo + Guitar + soft smut scenario for your current event? Thank you! ‪‪❤︎ ‪‪

I've been feeling so soft for Albedo after the 5.6 Mond update... Now I kinda want him on my account...

Also thank you, love, for your kind words! I hope you'll enjoy this little piece <3

His work table

pairing: Albedo x fem!reader

prompt: random smut scenario

word count: 1.1k+ words

tw: NSFW, oral sex (fem receiving), office sex, fingering, can be seen as a kinda make-up sex

~ The Music of the Night event ~

Albedo’s work table is never a mess. The Chief Alchemist is particular with things - while his personal stuff back home can exist in creative chaos, his study at the Headquarters must be organized. If Jean summons him for an urgent report - all the documents must be set in neat stacks to be easily sorted through; if a subordinate needs a book or a research paper to check some information - it’ll be spotted right away on his bookshelves within the alphabetical order; if he needs to grab something, it’ll always be in the same place - first picked from it and then put back there.

Albedo’s work table is never a mess. But no one said anything about you being an absolute mess on his work table.

And Archons from above, you are.

The dress of light fabric is tugged down past your shoulders and chest and hiked up to your waist. The sweat is beading, the marks begin to bloom on your neck, and you know it’s going to be an embarrassment to walk back home unless you find a scarf, but right now it’s the last thing you can care about. Especially while all your brain can do is send signals to your poor trembling arms to keep your spasming body up and sitting. 

You pant and with every jolt your breasts jiggle, unrestrained by the previously tossed aside bra. Nipples are hard and still a bit wet from the time your lover paid thorough attention to them in his journey from your swollen lips to your…other lips.

On the floor, on his knees, Albedo is settled between your wide open legs and is devouring you like a man who’s devoted.

On his work desk.

In the middle of the day.

You came to him for an explanation. No, you rushed to his office the moment all the charges were dropped and you heard a passing knight say what a brilliant plan the Chief Alchemist came up with to catch an impostor. You needed to know why he kept it a secret from you. You needed to see if he was alright. You needed to do something with the unreleased tension bottled up in your body, which, as you are now aware, couldn’t be dealt with because Albedo was plotting and trying to keep you away from harm.

Which resulted in you being hoisted on his work table, door locked and walls of geo put up to isolate the sinful moans leaving your gasping mouth and squelchy sounds from between your thighs.

Your lover has gotten so good at this. Lips are on your clit and two flawlessly thin fingers are buried deep into your pussy, moving in and out in quick pumps. Albedo’s beautiful teal eyes are closed, because he already had a chance to watch you arch and writhe above him before your first orgasm - now he wants to listen. To your breathy moans, to the quiet chants of his name (he finds it cute how you are still attempting to keep your volume down, even though he’s taken all the measures), to the little whines you let out whenever he lets go of your aching clit with a unintended ‘pop!’ to turn his head and kiss your thighs.

He loves your gasp when he adds the third finger, unexpectedly, mercifully, making you so full, finally giving you just enough to clench around. His mouth returns to the bundle of nerves, but this time he lets his tongue toy with it, pressing the tip harder, licking in big strokes. 

You jolt and the heel of your shoe hits the table. Albedo suddenly thinks that if one of his hands wasn’t busy he would’ve thrown both your legs over his shoulders, trapping his own head between your soft thighs. It sends a shiver down his spine. Fuck, and if your fingers were buried into his locks–

Your second orgasm hits him as a surprise (it looks like he got a little distracted). He realizes a second too late that he must’ve curled his fingers the way they pressed into your g-spot just right and simultaneously sucked onto your clit harder than he wanted to. Yet, upon opening his eyes and gazing up at you, it doesn’t seem that you mind.

If leaning backwards while sitting on his work table with head thrown back and tongue lolling out is any indicator.

Albedo plants one more kiss on your thigh and carefully slides all three fingers out. Your exhale shudders and the man hurries to smooth his palms from your hip bones to your knees. Makes a mental note not to forget to wipe one of the thighs clean of the slick he accidentally smeared in the process.

By the time he slowly rises to his feet and leans over you, you’ve kinda come to your senses already. The first post-orgasm thing you register feeling is his palms squeezing your waist. The first thing you see is his celestial eyes. And with the last remnants of strength you lift your arms to embrace his neck and draw him closer to pull in a deep kiss.

It’s twenty minutes later when he cleans you up, hands you your panties and bra back and helps to readjust the dress. If it wasn’t for the marks on your neck, the blush still blooming on your cheeks and hair slightly disheveled, it wouldn’t be clear what had occurred behind the closed door of the Chief Alchemist’s office.

You admit you are jealous of his origins that predetermined his ability to appear so unphased.

“Can I hope that this was a foreplay for what I can await tonight?” You ask him just as he’s begun to put the walls made of geo energy down. “You know, in the form of you ‘apologizing’ to me that you promised before hoisting me onto this desk?” And you knock two times against its surface, right where you were sitting and leaking slick onto moments ago.

“Tonight is the night of the celebration, you should go and have fun with everyone” he answers softly, now done with his task and grabbing his gloves, “and it appears I’ll have to owe you one more apology, my life, but tonight I will be a little bit busy…” 

When he sees you pout, he rushes to elaborate.

“However I swear this,” he steps closer, covering your hand still resting on the table with his own, “will be picked up tomorrow’s night where we left off today. And I will join you in the city once I’m done.”

“Promise?” You look right in the eyes, and Albedo can’t help but give you one more of his rare smiles.

“I promise. Now, wait a little bit, I’ll go find Lisa and ask her to lend you one of her capes. Even if she realizes what it’s for, she’s the last person to judge.”

And, pecking your cheek quickly, he leaves you there - leaning against his work table with a raging blush and a complaint stuck in your throat.

[pearlywritings]

Okay, just gonna make a list of charas for the nsfw alphabet not to forget (and will be updating occasionally) from what people have already suggested

Oh, and those are the men I am very much willing to write for (just probably not all of them in the end. We'll see how it goes)

Capitano

Ayato x2

Diluc x6

Kaeya x4

Neuvillette x4

Jing Yuan x4

Blade x2

Sampo

Dr Ratio x3

Zhongli x3

Alhaitham

Wriothesley x3

Loucha

Sunday

[pearlywritings]

Ifa + balalaika plsplspls🙏

Actually already done 😉

Ifa - balalaika

There is an event masterlist in the event's post btw

[pearlywritings]

neuvillette + guitar please 🙏

My favorite dragon man? Always

It will feel good

pairing: Neuvillette x fem!reader

prompt: random smut scenario

word count: 1k+ words

tw: NSFW, implied rut, implied marathon fucking (kinda, it's subtle), unprotected sex, thigh-fucking, Neuvi is gaining experience

~ The Music of the Night event ~

Neuvillette bites his lower lip, fisting the ruined sheets next to your head, when the wet heat surrounding him disappears. He hears you whine into the mattress as his cock slides out of your gaping hole - your walls are so slippery with your combined fluids and his hips’ thrusts are off the beat at this point, that it's no wonder a powerful push out left you empty and him with a heavy length smacking against your thigh, smearing your juices and his pre over the glistening skin.

“I am terribly sorry,” he groans through the laboured breaths, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of your sweat-bidding neck. You try to lift your upper body onto your elbows, but with a quiet moan fall back onto your chest. You feel exhausted, but not yet satisfied.

“I-It’s okay,” gasping, you still try to concentrate the remaining strength into your legs, wiggling your hips and making his cock slap between your thighs. The man above you exhales through clenched teeth, pushing his pelvis even harder into your ass, driving his length through your labia, collecting the cum that starts to dribble out. “A-actually this–oh–feels good…”

“This..?” He cocks his head slightly to the side. You attempt to rock your body back and forth, but it’s quite hard with your legs trembling from overstrain. Neuvillette releases the sheets, but you don’t have a second to mourn the loss of his weight on top of you, as his clawed hands gently run over your hips.

“Mhm, if you just help me… Help me close my thighs…” It's a challenge to speak with your head turned to the side and cheek pressed to the bed, and your lover understands that. With a careful grasp on your shoulder and still holding your hip, Neuvillette maneuvers your bodies to a more comfortable position.

Sprawled on your back you are an image of perfection: messy hair, half-lidded eyes, body covered in sweat and his love bites… He doesn't fight the urge to indulge you when you ask him for a kiss.

His long tongue doesn't find any obstacles, easily licking into your mouth, sliding against yours. His primordially beautiful eyes seem to be glowing when he looks at you, drinking in the soft fluttering of your lashes and rosy blush dusting your cheeks…

Too entranced, he almost jolts when your fingertips gingerly trace the underside of his still weeping length.

“As I was saying…” your words are an almost breathless murmur when he breaks the kiss and leans back a little, “you can push my thighs together and slide your cock between them… It will feel very good.” 

“Oh?” There is wonder in his tone, expression turning curious, as he leans back even further, until he is sitting on his calves. Big palms with long fingers, where every blue vein can be traced with a wandering gaze under the milky skin, slowly run from their resting place on your waist down to your hips and up to your raised knees. You watch him with a smile through your lowered eyelids - the way he is figuring out the position is adorable. How he tries to softly move both your shins to one side, caresses your thighs, searching for the best place to apply pressure on, until ultimately you end up with your ankles resting on his shoulders, thighs pressed together by his hold on your knees and his cock trapped between their softness.

Neuvillette glances down. At the blooming hickies. At your clammy skin. At the whitish smudges of his spent on your lower stomach. At the head and the portion of his length that is peaking out. He swallows thickly .

“Come on, love,” you encourage him sweetly, reaching down your body and wrapping your hand loosely around his cock, pressing the thumb to the slit. Neuvillette shudders, letting out a quiet moan, thrusting forward. “Just move your hips like when you are inside me and try to slide against me. Don’t be afraid to be sloppy, it’s a learning process, after all.”

And you both are already tired. But your lover experiences the first signs of his real rut, so his stamina is currently higher than yours. He just needs one more orgasm - and you’ll get to rest properly.

Slowly nodding, the hydro dragon presses a reverent kiss to your ankle, and then starts rolling his hips. His shaft is long, so it drags deliciously against your cunt, bulging veins bumping against engorged clit, smearing his dribbling pre. The man closes his eyes, focusing on sensations, on how plush you are, how even in such a position your juices wet him, how your thumb adds pressure and pleasure, how the temperature slightly changes when his soaked cock disappears between your legs and then gets exposed to the air of the room…

It’s no surprise he cums so fast, covering your hand with white and panting heavily. With a satisfied and victorious smile you watch him finally go soft; his head hangs low, bangs drenched in sweat and stuck to his forehead and cheeks, shoulders rise and fall with laboured breaths, while his long fingers leave your knees and slip lower, brushing the tips of the claws against your flushed skin and sending goosebumps running. Your previously pressed together legs slightly part.

Warmth fills your ribcage, when your lover lets your shins slide down his shoulders, falling in the crooks of his elbows and being carefully lowered onto the mattress; and then he puts his palm next to your side, leaning forward, and slumping his form onto yours, burying his face in your neck. You happily welcome his weight, wiping the cum-covered hand against the already ruined sheets, before gingerly wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Tired?” The question is filled with sympathy and Neuvillette lets a rumbling sound out of his throat, pressing his nose even closer to your pulse.

“Rather pleasantly fatigued,” you can feel his lips shape into a smile, and can’t help but grin too, starting to draw shapes with the tip of your finger on his lower back. “And you were right as always, my love.”

“Hm? About what, dear?”

“It indeed felt very good,” he pauses, as if pondering on something. You think you can guess his next words.

He’d definitely love to try it again.

[pearlywritings]

thank you as always for your writing it's always a delight to read🫶🫶

Thank you, kind anon 🤧🤧💜💜

[pearlywritings]

Decided to organize all the requests into a written list, and from what I see you guys are mainly into:

1) cuteness aggression

2) soulmate au

3) balls/masquerades

Just an interesting observation 🤭

[pearlywritings]

Who said the night was over?

pairing: Alhaitham, Childe, Gallagher, Ifa, Jing Yuan, Kamisato Ayato, Phainon (seperately) x fem!reader

prompt: morning after 😏

word count: 4.2k+ words in total

tw: NSFW, nudity, hints of sex in the shower, hints of public intimacy, oral (female recieving), consensual (!) somnophilia, implied breeding, cockwarming

~ The Music of the Night event ~

gathered all the requests down here! also, yes to the anon who requested Ayato, i'd be glad to put you down as either of these two emojis! (why not both though?)

Alhaitham

With Alhaitham’s dislike for early mornings, it’s an often occurrence for you to wake up while he is still in bed with you. Today, however, blindly feeling the spot next to you with a patting hand makes your sleep-heavy mind aware that your husband is gone. But the sheets and the pillow are still carrying the warmth of his body, so he couldn’t have been absent for long. 

Satisfied with the thought that he might’ve gone to the toilet and that your alarm clock hasn’t rung yet, you steal your lover’s pillow to hug it close to your chest and settle back into the mattress to catch some more minutes of sleep, especially after the busy night you two had. And also before you have to face the reality in which you have a teaching job.

When the alarm goes off, however, and you shut it down with a dissatisfied yawn, the other side of the bed appears to be empty, with the only difference being its coldness.

Huh, how strange.

But you don’t have time to question the lack of the man in your shared bed. Just as you are sitting up and tugging your askew-sitting sleepwear in all the right places, the door to the room opens, and your half-dressed lover steps in with a tray balanced on his open palm. Delicious smell of food and coffee fills the air and your nose, making you sniff the taunting aroma with a blissful smile.

“Coffee and breakfast in bed? My, aren’t you romantic this morning,” you tease, but when you finally meet his eyes, the discontent etched into his handsome features cuts your already-prepared teasing short. There is a furrow between his brows and a scowl tugging on his lips, when he closes the door and walks further into your shared space. “Habibi? What’s up?”

“Our dear roommate is ‘up’,” he huffs, putting the tray on the space between his and your halves of the bed and carefully climbs onto it. Your eyes widen.

“Kaveh? But wasn’t he staying over at Cyno’s tonight?” Suddenly your whole body is crawling with dread. If the architect was here the whole night when he definitely heard you two-

“He was,” Alhaitham says sharply, grabbing his mug of coffee and taking a gulp to calm his already spiked nerves. “But apparently he forgot to grab some things to bring to the meeting with the client this morning, and came back earlier to finish it, waking me up in the process. I’m actually surprised how you didn’t jolt awake when he dropped the pile of scrolls he was carrying from his room to the living room.”

“I had no idea…” you murmur, still a bit shaken from your initial thoughts, but willing yourself to focus on something else - for example those delicious-looking pita pockets. “But that’s a total bummer then.”

“Oh for sure,” the Scribe rolls his eyes, picking one of the filled breads too. “Though it’s surprising to hear this from you - you like Kaveh.”

“Yes, I like Kaveh,” you sigh, scooting closer to your husband, leaning your shoulder to his. “But I don’t like him very much right now.”

Alhaitham actually stops chewing and stares at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Had hopes for the morning sex before I have to get up and ready to deal with the students,” you grumble, grabbing your drink and taking a sip, “but it’s fine, I’ll manage.”

“...I can kick him out if you want to–”

“No!” you grab his wrist, even though he hasn’t moved yet. “No need, it’s fine, really. Tonight was more than enough.”

“Clearly not, if you are still feeling needy, habibti,” Alhaitham’s arm slithers behind your back and settles on the hip. He leans his cheek onto the top of your head. “I have an idea. Let’s finish our food and then we can fuck in the bathroom. The running water should mask the sounds– if you are quiet enough,” he wears a smirk, though hides it in your hair with a kiss. “Even if you are not - it’s our house, we can do whatever we want.”

...Well, not looking Kaveh in the eyes for a week it is then.

Childe

Do not look the Fatui Agents in the eyes, do not look the Fatui Agents in the eyes, hold your head high and proud as you walk down the hall of the Eleventh Harbinger’s capital residence, and try not to think about the burning marks hidden under the layers of warm clothes and how evident the limp in your steps would’ve been, had Tartaglia not offered you his elbow to latch onto.

The mask, gifted by the Lord Pulcinella, is covering the upper half of your face - just for good measure, even though the soldiers are trained to not ask questions or gossip. The black furred coat you arrived in is replaced by a pretty azure one, perfectly matching the lapis pools of the man by your side. You look like a refined noble from a long-running bloodline, so it’s hard to imagine you are to be interrogated for the business you could possibly have with one of the Harbingers.

Finally, the exit from the manor. The morning chill is biting at your cheeks and chin, and with it, your worries are swept away. The purely white snow is crunching under your boots as you are descending down the wide-stepped staircase. Then, led by your partner all the way through the alley caged between well-taken-care-of pines from both sides, you walk right to the carriage, waiting in front of the gates.

You are truly exhaling in relief only once you two are settled inside, and the coachman whistled, flicked his whip and the horses started off.

“Phew, now I understand your struggle at keeping your identity a secret,” you say in a low tone. You don’t doubt the people who work for Tartaglia, but being too careful never hurts.

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” his big hand slides out of the mitten and covers your gloved ones, resting in your lap in a tight lock. “I am so proud of you, my sneaky little mouse.”

You can’t help but giggle, gazing at him from behind your mask, eyes sparkling with joy.

“Thank you! Oh, I am so excited to see the capital! I am so happy you got half a day off to spend time with me.”

“You better believe this feeling is mutual,” the gingerhead smiles widely, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You practically melt, reciprocating the affection, and wiggle your hands from under his palm to cup both his cheeks. It was probably a mistake to leave his own limbs unguarded - because the moment your attention got occupied, his fingers went wandering.

It’s warm inside the carriage, and it soon becomes a little bit suffocating - the fervor with which Ajax is devouring your mouth, stealing one kiss after another, is enough to rival the furnace’s flames. You notice too late when all the clasps of your fur coat come undone, and your lover pushes it down your shoulders. It’s only once he breaks one of the scorching kisses, staring at you with hooded eyes, burning cheeks and swollen lips, the understanding dawns on you.

“Ajax, wait–!” You whisper-scream at him, trying to dodge a new wave of kisses. “We are not doing this in the carriage!”

The young man promptly stops, closing his mouth and staring into your eyes. He has the audacity to be pouting! After igniting a wild fire in your chest!

“But why not?” He murmurs dejectedly, settling both his palms on your waist. “It is a lengthy ride and I hoped to make up for the rushed awakening. Feels like after the night of passion I owe you an equally affectionate morning.”

That’s true, in order to enjoy the little ‘journey’ to its fullest with your lover, you two woke up at an ungodly hour and made quite a haste to get ready. Which significantly shortened your usual morning routine. Ah, you can admit now that it was a bit disappointing.

“Fine…” You sigh, sliding your arms back around his neck, much to the ginger’s delight. “But nothing that can alarm the people outside.”

He is nodding like crazy, before diving back in, and you just hope that you hold enough power over your partner to stop him when he goes too far.

Gallagher 

Standing before the mirror in nothing but panties, you cannot mask your horror. Bright, almost angry-looking hickies and bite marks are littering the expanse of your neck, shoulders, chest and– oh shit, thighs!?

Your lover, with only his sweatpants thrown on, returns from the balcony after finishing the first cigarette of the day, scratching his stomach and yawning when you jump on him with a punch to his shoulder. The yawn is cut mid-action and with a strange noise of a strangled cat the man looks at you. His thick brows fly up in confusion.

“Watcha doing, pretty thing? Is it one of your playful fights to get us both tangled in the sheets?”

“‘Tangled in the sheets’ my ass!” You throw your arms in the air. “Look at me, Gallagher!”

Vermillion eyes observe your face for a few seconds longer before casting their gaze down. Understanding immediately appears on his face along with a smirk. A quiet appreciative whistle makes your cheeks heat up and arms cross over your breasts right after.

“‘Tangled in sheets’ is what left me in such a state! Damn, Gal, I know I joke a lot about it, but maybe you’re really a dog? I’m all bitten like a pack attacked me!”

“And yet all of these belong to just one mutt,” he releases a low chuckle, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, pressing your almost naked body flash to his barely covered one. You have half a mind to punch him again, but when he starts kissing your cheek and temple, you squint with a pout and plant your hands onto his pecs, trying to shove him off.

“Go shave!”

“Don’t remember you complaining when this face was between your prettily marked thig-” you butt his chest with your head, wrapping your own arms around his wide frame. Gallagher hisses when you dig your nails into his back. “Careful, kitty, you are not the only one covered in the reminders of last night.”

“Like I care,” you mutter, but nevertheless put your palms flatly. The kiss is pressed to your shoulder right after, yet this time you do not complain about his stubble.

“You are cooking breakfast by the way.”

“Oh? And what will my beautiful girlfriend do?”

“Spend who knows how much time in the bathroom trying to cover with a concealer the damage you caused. Thighs are alright, chest is too, but my NECK!”

“Never looked better,” Gallagher says seriously and before you could retort, crouches and grabs you under the knees. With a horrified shriek you are thrown over his strong shoulder, and are patted on the ass three times.

“Atta girl. Now let’s go and take a shower. We can talk there about how pretty your neck is and have you give me some more hickies as well. And then we’ll discuss the breakfast part.”

You are fucked.

Ifa

The mouth-watering smell is what makes you leave the warm bed, throw on the first thing you grabbed from the chair and leave the bedroom. Led by the delicious aroma you tiptoe to the kitchen of Ifa’s house, and find the man himself standing in front of the phlogiston-fueled stove. You should’ve guessed that the vet, dressed in nothing but pants, apron over his bare chest and with his signature hat gone (probably still lying somewhere in the bedroom…) is the reason for your awakening. 

You can’t help but lean on the doorframe and stare: at his back, at the way his shoulders roll when strong arms move, at the way that pretty tattoo circles his neck in a zig-zag pattern, at those soft, white with a tint of light mint hair, which are still the definition of a “bed head”... Oh, and not to forget that fine ass of his that looks so good in those pan–

“Good morning, sunshine,” a mirth-filled greeting shakes you out of the dreamy stupor, and you have to shake your head to chase it away.

When you look at your lover again, Ifa is bringing two plates to the table and gives you a cheeky smile. You mirror it with one of your own, stepping into the kitchen and skipping right into his arms.

The man doesn’t waste a second, leaning down the moment your arms wrap around his neck and capturing your lips in a morning kiss. You giggle softly at his eagerness, relishing in the moment.

“Good morning to you too, love,” you murmur between kisses and immediately squeal when he turns your body around, cups his palms under your ass and lifts you onto the counter. “Ifa!”

“Damn, babe, you look good in my shirt.”

Ah, so it was his. To your defense, you were so focused on the smell of the breakfast that you really didn’t care what you wore in your boyfriend’s house.

“And it looks like it stayed unbuttoned just to the point of you losing your patience last night and dragging it over my head.”

You notice how his gaze slips down your body, and have to also look. Oh... The shirt is open and barely covering your breasts, giving your lover a perfect view of all the marks he’s decorated your skin with. As the blush is rapidly creeping up your cheeks, you grab the hems, closing them. 

Ifa laughs, flexing his grip on your hips and dragging you closer to the edge of the table. As he presses his pelvis into you and puts his mouth on your neck, you can feel the outline of his semi-hard cock through the pants. 

You need some form of distraction. Urgently.

“And where is–mmm–where is my feathered baby?

“Cacucu?” The way his breath fans over your cheek makes you shiver and try to close your thighs. To no avail, of course. “Probably went outside for the night. Have you forgotten the last time we had sex? You moaned so loudly, the poor guy burst into the bedroom thinking you were being hurt.”

“Ifaaaa!”

So much for the distraction.

Jing Yuan

Even through the veil of sleep, you feel your body ache in a pleasant languor. You also feel a gentle, almost intangible caress on your cheek, which travels down, slowly, following the length of your neck and then the line of your arm. Goosebumps appear in its wake and you can’t help but shiver, jerking your shoulder.

There is a quiet, affectionate chuckle next to you, and the touch returns to your cheek, brought by a thumb that starts rubbing circles on your skin.

Something in the back of your mind tells you to summon the willpower to fight the clinging sleep and join the world of the awake. It’s so hard though - the lovely scent of the fresh bedding and the softness of the mattress and the pillow seem to make your eyelids heavier and body - more indolent.

But then the thumb gently swipes across your lips, dipping between. Instinctively you bite, and a hitch in breath in front of you is finally enough to tear you away from the sleep’s clutches.

It's hazy and you have to blink a couple of times. The display must be amusing to the disrupter of your dream, since he is chuckling again, and the sound is rich and warm and totally belongs to your husband.

“Good moooorning,” you drawl around his thumb, eventually releasing it and giving the pad a sweet kiss. Jing Yuan hums, reaching both hands to your waist to tug your bare body close to his, and kisses your forehead.

“Good morning to you as well, my love,” you smile blissfully at his response, throwing your arms around his neck and one leg over his hip. Your husband gets the hint and rolls onto his back, effectively moving you on top of him.

As you use his shoulders to lift your upper body, his wide palms slide down to your ass, kneading the supple flesh. You giggle, looking down at him with a half-lidded gaze, and the general has the images of last night flashing before his eyes. More specifically the ones where you pushed him onto the bed and straddled his thighs like a queen claimed the throne.

He can feel his cock stir. You can feel it too, right under you.

“Oh?” There is a smirk on your pretty lips. “Does my lion have something to tell me?”

“Hmm… I suppose he has,” Jing Yuan smiles, letting go off one of your cheeks and softly grabbing at your tit instead, working a quiet mewl from the back of your throat. “I propose you a few courses of action, my dear, and you can pick, agreed?”

“Sounds intriguing,” you can feel your own arousal gathering in the form of slick. “What options do I have?”

“First: we get up, dress up and go have breakfast,” by the way you grimace at that, Jing Yuan laughs. “Second: we stay in bed for a little bit longer and let the night’s love-making proceed.”

“And what if I chose the second option?” You shift so his cock is right between your labia petals and roll your hips to smear the juices all over his length. The man groans, palming at your breast.

“Then you can choose either the oral way of doing things or penetration.”

Something - maybe it's the way he hungrily looks at you - tells you that the answer is ‘both’. And you are all too happy to respond in kind.

Kamisato Ayato

Mornings at the Kamisato Estate were always quiet. Despite numerous retainers that took care of the mansion’s inside and outside, the early hours of the day were filled with serenity and a warm breeze entering the room through the window, slightly cracked open.

You are shielded from the little ray of sunshine that's peeked into the bedroom and began its travel across your lover’s body, yet are still coaxed from the dreamland by the soft calls of your name.

“My darling wife, be so kind and grace me with your lovely gaze,” one of the murmurs is against your hair, ghosting across your temple. “I know you hate it when I leave the bed without you, but the duty always calls,” you huff through your slowly dissipating sleep, inching even closer to the warm body behind you, tucking your head under Ayato’s chin, much to his amusement. “Come now, my beloved. If you keep squirming and pressing yourself to me like this, I won’t have any choice but to pick up from where we stopped last night.”

Last night… Ah, right, last night. The first time in two weeks when Ayato managed to clear his schedule for the evening completely. The marvelous moment spent together, which he started with gifting  you a new skilfully sewn attire, proceeded at the restaurant and a night stroll and ended with your bodies tangled in the sheets.

The last night, when your husband got determined to cum inside as many times as his body allowed it, all because you teased and were handsy with him when no one saw. Because you put your hand onto his chest and whispered into his ear, like it was some well-guarded secret, that you were ovulating and would love to try for a child again.

The head of the Kamisato clan cannot deny his wife many things. Well, not for long at least, if his own teasing and edging is anything to come by. But he knows that everything is worth it, when with an exhausted but absolutely satisfied exhale she settles with her back against his chest, his cock plunged into her pussy and an arm wrapped around her middle, as the two of you drift off to sleep.

And wake up the next morning, positioned in the same embrace.

Ayato’s breath hitches when you clench around him unconsciously.

“My precious jewel,” he tries again, not losing hope to perform the morning routine together, “we should really get up, before one of our retainers comes storming through the doors, worried that we are still absent.”

“Not my problem you usually get your ass up at the crack of the dawn,” you finally groan, voice thick with sleep, and surely hoarse from all that moaning he railed out of you. “I’m exhausted, Ayato, let me sleep.”

“Exhausted? My, you say it like you weren’t the one jumping my bones the moment the bedroom door closed yesterday,” your husband hums, using his free hand to move your hair to the side. When he presses a lingering kiss to the back of your neck and rolls his hips, you arch slightly, letting out a quiet moan.

“Well, I was horny and I am not sorry for it,” huffing you try to settle on the bed with the full intention of falling back asleep. But the hand that slips between your thighs and presses on your pelvis to move you flash against him, suddenly makes you hyper aware of his hardening cock still resting between your walls.

“W-wait, Ayato,” you gulp, snapping your eyes open and trying to turn your head to look back at him. You do not like the way his eyes squint and lips pull into a knowing smile. “Didn’t you say that ‘duty always calls’?”

“Oh, so you were listening,” his smile gets wider and fox-like eyes even more cunning, as the pads of his index and middle finger press into your clit. It makes you throw your head back on the pillow with a mewl. “But we’ll discuss your lack of response later. Now my duty is my wife and it calls for giving her a few more ‘tries’.”

Phainon

Your morning begins with a wanton moan and an arched back. Your thoughts are a bunch of incoherent sparks of conscience, running through your head and incapable of forming a thing, but your body knows to try and close your legs and hands gripping the pillow and sheets.

Something stops you from slamming your thighs close, there is a strong grip on them, forcing them open and holding in place. And there is blinding pleasure, coursing through your body, tightening the knot in your stomach and hardening your nipples, that got exposed to the morning breeze with the blanket’s and shirt’s absence.

You have to blink and forcefully rub at your eyes with a trembling hand to finally chase away the sleep and see the ceiling of your bedroom. Your and Phainon’s bedroom.

A new surge of pleasure makes you moan louder, and your hand shoots down, grabbing the messy locks of your lover and pressing his head harder into your pussy. This time the moan is not yours, vibrating against your clit and driving you insane. There is slurping and needy whines, as well as a hot heavy tongue sliding between your labia and pressing against the tight numb.

Just one suck and you are gone, letting the knot in your abdomen snap and body go lax with a breathless plea of his name.

“Phainon…”

Your lover perks up, unlatching his mouth from your poor loins, and, feeling your grip on his white locks lessen, lifts himself on his elbows.

“Good morning, princess,” he says cheerfully, and when you find strength to glance down at him, it gets hard to believe that this man was just eating your pussy out seconds ago.

“M-morning…” you rasp out, still shaken by the orgasm. “What w-was that?”

The way he cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy makes a warm feeling bloom in your chest. How can a man be both this cute and indescribably lewd? It’s like the two images can’t exist together.

“Oh, you mean this?” He points at his mouth first and then between your legs and suddenly you want to kick him in the ribs. “You see… After we had sex yesterday, - which was the first time after so long, - the yearning seemed to become…more prominent, and I–” you notice the red tinting his cheeks and his gaze avoiding yours, “I had a wet dream.”

Your eyes widen at the admission, mouth going slack.

“You had a wet dream? About us?”

He nods, almost shyly. The mattress sinks when he pushes himself up, and a moment later he is resting on his side next to you, supporting his head with one hand and putting the other on your stomach.

“I woke up hot and needy,” he murmurs, lovingly rubbing your belly. “And I remembered how you told me you’d like one day an experience of being woken up by oral. So…”

So instead of being mean and shaking you out of sleep just to fuck, he decided to bring you pleasure by fulfilling your little fantasy, not even hoping you’d reciprocate upon arising. 

Which leaves him hard and leaking still. Which, in turn, makes you smile and reach out for his face to drag your beloved in the morning kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and turning your still aroused body to his, being trapped into the embrace of two strong arms.

How can you not reciprocate?

author's note: fun fact, but Childe's part was actually written with my A birthday surprise fic in thought hehe~

[pearlywritings]

Anaxa wants something to be written about him so badly that he:

1) came on 25th pull after Castorice

2) his signature weapon came on 15th pull after Castorice's weapon

3) decided to E6 Moze, and within 70 or so pulls also got E1 Anaxa

Now I REALLY have to cook something for him

[pearlywritings]

Blade + the erhu, please and thank you!

(Miss pearly, is that another reference to the phantom of the opera? Just asking)

Crazy but this prompt was asked for Blade twice! And once again - yep, that's the reference! (hopefully you all are not fed up with me yet--) On side note - it's been always a challenge to write for this man and every single time I pray that I didn't fuck up his character,,,,,,,

Always there

pairing: Blade x reader

prompt: "I will wait for you"

word count: 812 words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

The ever-sullen Stellaron Hunter has always had a hard time understanding your reasons to stay by his side. It isn't obnoxious clinging or following him wherever he goes, or even intentional lingering in the shadows nearby like you are some kind of a stalker.

No, it is none of that. You are just… there.

Obviously you are always there - working for Elio at the base as the Hunter’s personal chef quite literally predestines it. Blade doesn't remember the details, but it had probably something to do with Kafka and her complaints about Silver Wolf’s eating routine. And his. And the fact you poisoned someone to the point of royally pissing the IPC, which put “Wanted” posters across the universe with your face on them and landed you in the care of Destiny's Slave.

What he means is…you are strangely there for him.

You notice the dishes he takes liking in (despite him dodging all your questions) and cook him those when you think he looks especially gloomy. Every time he departs on a mission, somehow you manage to send him off with a packed meal - either you slip it into his luggage, or pass it on through his assigned partner or simply distract with conversation and thrust the container right into his hands. Lately, as you two got closer, you also started adding self-made sedatives and sleeping medicine to his meals. Did he try to kill you for that? No, but he did suggest adding poison next time.

Which you never did.

Why did his sleep get better?

Of course, you’ve grown to be caring towards every member of the crew - making Kafka her favorites whenever she had a shitty day, gently but sternly forcing Silver Wolf to eat properly, coming up with ways to feed Firefly delicious food too and letting her help in the kitchen, and managing to fulfil wild requests Elio sometimes has.

But Blade feels like he is special to you. Even if it took him half a year to admit it to himself.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me,” you once told him, as you were stirring the pot and Blade came to the kitchen to hide from the girls who, led by Kafka, wanted to mess with him. Too focused on wrapping clean bandages around the fingers of his left hand, the man didn’t let the thought sink at first, but once he did, he said nothing.

Something told him these were not the words you said to everyone.

Why did they bring him an allusive sense of peace?

Later on he started spending time with you - in training. Being a chef and knowing your way with the knife is good, but, as you reasonably noted, you are a part of the Stellaron Hunters now. It’ll never hurt to learn to defend yourself. 

Blade has never been known to be gentle. No matter if you are a sword master or a newbie - he’d go hard on you anyway, putting you through a hell of a routine. He was honestly thinking you would’ve soon realized that such harsh treatment wasn’t for you and turned to one of the female members. However, every day he’s at the base, you come. You whine and huff from exhaustion, but don’t complain. You listen carefully to his instructions whenever he stops the fight to give them (and he does so rarely, preferring the learning through the ‘life or death’ combat). You lie on the floor of the training area every single time the training ends, look up at him holding his sword and boring his red-hot coals of the eyes into you, and promise with a shaky smile, that ‘ten more minutes, a shower, and I’ll go make us an after-workout snack’.

Usually it’s more than ten minutes. Occasionally he has to carry your body to the showers, and you go limp on his shoulder on purpose. He quite often waits for you after he’s done with his own clean up. He rarely misses your cooking afterwards.

When did he start standing close to you as you cook, looming over you, staring at your hands over your shoulder?

He also doesn’t know how you two ended up sharing a living space, a bed even. Once, twice, a week, a month… At some point he just accepted it as a part of his life now. After all, you are not making it worse.

He is sane enough to be honest with himself - it got a little bit better.

You kiss his scars and run your fingers through his hair to calm him.

He lets you.

You are not clingy though.

He turned out to be one.

“I want you to see me as the place where you can always return to.”

He…bitterly laughs, but doesn’t say anything against.

“I will be waiting for you.”

…

He chooses to believe you.

[pearlywritings]

Hi!! Can I request Dan Heng + Euphonium BUTTT, the reader is the one who's correct 🤭

Took a bit longer, but it was fun to write for him hehe

Overdid it

pairing: Dan Heng x reader

prompt: "I hate to say it, but I told you so"

word count: 1.4+ words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

His head is splitting. It feels like he was hit with a giant hammer, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his head was cracked in halves. But he can’t even check - his whole body seems to weigh a tonne, and attempts to lift an arm only makes the overall ache worse.

The eyelids are heavy too and it feels like a total bother to even move his eyes behind them. At this point Dan Heng isn’t quite sure if he is sleeping or is hanging somewhere on the brink between obviously needed sleep and torturous reality. He doesn’t want to be sure. He doesn’t even want to think.

His mind, however, is restless. There are numbers running through it, and who’s to say whether they are a part of some data or they define how many mugs of coffee he’s had in the last few days. Last few days..? And for what reason, he’s turned to such foolish means–

Realization hits him like another blow of a hammer and jade green eyes snap open. The headache immediately intensifies and the man hisses, shutting his eyes and knitting his brows in distress; the head sinks deeper in the pillow.

Wait a moment. It doesn’t feel like his pillow.

Groaning and with laboured breaths, Dan Heng raises himself on an elbow. He forces his hand up to press the heel of it into his forehead. The world around spins.

It’s only on the will’s effort that he manages to sit somewhat straight. Running the palm down his face, the male makes attempts to regulate his breathing. The hand ends up pressed to his chest. It takes some time, but eventually he manages.

His eyes hurt and are so tired, but Dan Heng is conscious enough to take in to his surroundings. In the darkness of the room, - your room, - he makes out the familiar silhouettes of the furniture: the desk with currently turned off PC and the chair over which you almost had to fight Stelle because it was comfortable; the wardrobe with mirror sliding doors, the shelves where you displayed mementos from various trailblazing missions, the walls decorated to your tastes, the bed he’s currently half-sitting half-lying on… And the nightstand with a singular source of dim light in the whole room.

It is kind of a nightlight, but instead of the lamp there is a plastic screen inserted in a wooden base which is filled with colored lights. Totally March 7th’s gift, and he saw you draw on it with a special white marker regularly to have a highlighted image. 

Right now he could swear there is something written and he has to lean to the nightstand and squint to read.

In your pretty handwriting it says: “Take the pill and drink the whole glass. If you want me to come, press onto the bracelet. Love you <3”

There is indeed a glass of water and a pill next to the lamp, as well as a long-distance touch bracelet - one of the pair you got together during the visit to the planet Dan Heng can’t make his brain remember right now. His heart skips a beat, touched by your care, and a small smile graces his lips.

The pill slides down his throat and is quickly rushed by the cool water. The man doesn’t realize he’s chugged down it all in less than a couple of seconds. He feels like really could use more.

Next he picks the bracelet. It’s designed simply and has a moon ornament on the touch panel (yours has sun), but at the moment this little thing feels like the most sacred link between you and him. It’s not often when the vidyadhara allows himself to feel vulnerable, but he is exhausted beyond comparison, so if the press to the rising moon will bring you to him right now, he’ll gladly take it.

He lets out a trembling breath when you send him the same gentle signal.

Ten or a little bit more minutes pass, but he finally hears footsteps nearing the room. With anticipation the man watches the cabin door slide open, lifting his hand to shield the eyes from the bright light seeping into the room from the hall. It is gone as soon as it’s appeared however, and Dan Heng has the pleasure of seeing you.

You are standing there, closing the door behind you and balancing a tray on your one hand. Dressed in a robe over your casual homewear, you are an image of comfort, and your boyfriend wants nothing more than to have you close to him. He thinks he catches the glimpse of the bracelet when your other hand joins its twin and he glances down at his own, still clutched between his long slim fingers. Ah, he’s forgotten to put it back on the nightstand.

“How are you feeling, love?”

Your voice shocks him. Sounds tend to worsen his headache when it’s there - after all, all his inhuman senses are sharper. Yet your soft worried murmur of a question doesn’t aggravate it further. Maybe the pill has already kicked in.

“I…” He swallows, testing the vowel on his tongue, feeling his throat being hoarse. He feels like shit, but he is too polite to speak such unsightly truth. So he does something else - says another truth. “I overdid it.”

He sees how you tilt your head, studying him. Your gaze, scanning his face, his slouched form, brings a strange sense of embarrassment to him. He must be looking horrendously.

“You know, Dan Heng…’ You say slowly, stepping closer and putting the tray onto the nightstand, carefully nudging the night lamp and a mug further. “I hate to say it, but I told you so. Many times.”

Your lover downcasts his eyes. He knows you are not criticizing him, but softly scolding, yet it makes his stomach flip. He made you worry about him. That’s probably worse than you being wholeheartedly mad at him.

The mattress dips under your weight as you sit down, reaching for his face. The man leans into the touch instantly, closing his blood-shot eyes. Your palm is so warm… How can a simple caress bring a sense of tranquility? It will never be clear to him.

“I apologize, my love,” you softly murmur, shifting closer to him, ”I know you are not yet comfortable to sleep somewhere that is not the archive, but I couldn’t let you lie on a barely covered floor. So I made Mister Yang and Sunday carry you to my room.”

“Mhm…” he slightly nods, head still heavy, and accepts your fingers sliding between his, resting in his lap. He hears you sigh. It means there will be a lecture.

“Seriously though, when will you start taking better care of yourself? And I’m not speaking about your questionable choice of bed,” your words hold no malice and the tone is more puzzled than exasperated. “You are not a machine, you know. You do not have to rush. No one expects you to finish a week-worth of research task in a da-” you cut yourself when his forehead rests onto your shoulder. He tightens his hold on your hand.

“‘m sorry. I’ll do better. Promise.”

Your gaze softens. It is a rare sight - seeing Dan Heng like this. Raw emotion and lack of restraint is not what your boyfriend usually is. Moreso, he really looks like he needs a break - desperately.

So you decide to drop the conversation until he feels much better.

“I believe you,” a lingering press of your lips to the top of his head along with your other hand enveloping the lock of his and yours, and you can swear there are pleased dragon noises vibrating in his chest. Sometimes you almost forget he can do that. “I also brought you tea, if you’d like to. And a jug of water. Do you want anything?”

Tea, not coffee. Is he capable of loving you more?

“Can you…stay?”

Just stay with him… That would be enough.

“Stay? Of course, I wasn't planning on leaving. But are you sure you don’t want to drink something?” 

“No,” he shakes his head against your shoulder, his own dropping, “feel sleepy.”

“Must be the pill finally working at its fullest. I'll sit with you, alright?”

It doesn’t take much time to get him to lie back down and adjust the blanket. Once you settle next to him to be able to monitor his condition, with your back leaned against a pillow and the headboard underneath, Dan Heng moves impossibly close to you. His hand ends up wrapped around your thigh and his face - pressed to it. You are so warm and soft. 

He wants to be warm and soft too.

And as your fingers thread through the short black strands, gentle strokes bring him to sleep, letting the anxious mind rest, and the iron-heavy body float.

[pearlywritings]

Watch me read through all those Anaxa requests in my inbox for the event, falling to my knees and punching the floor, because I haven't even touched the new story quest

I am 50/50 about the man (at this exact moment, it can change). Like on one hand he is worse than Alhaitham (i love him) when it comes to being an all-knowing sarcastic wimp (BUT THAT'S INTERESTING IN THE SENSE OF EXPLORING CHARACTER AND WRITING ABOUT HIM). On the other hand... Good lord, just because of his mask alone I can fold

Yeah if you haven't noticed of whom my current event is heavily inspired by - a masked guy (who is also a genius in his sphere)

Design-wise? Totally my type🤤

Character-wise? We'll see. But either way it's going to be an experience to write for him!

[pearlywritings]

Balalaika ifa 👉👈

That was so much fun to write! And I can't wait for my man to be playable (am I back into my simping era???)

Chill, dude

pairing: Ifa x reader

prompt: cuteness aggression

word count: 1.1+ words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

“Oh dear! Oh dear!”

“How can you be so adorable!?” You cry out, bouncing the small body of the peach-feathered Qucusaurus between your palms, rubbing your nose against his beak. It takes all of your will-power to be gentle, to the point you are vibrating, and buzzing, and an ugly squeal is stuck in the back of your throat. “You are the softest, you are the prettiest, you are the babiest, you are the cutest, I literally want to eat you!”

Cacucu chirps, happily bobbing to match your energetic tossing of his form within your hands’ grasp. The ball-shaped saurian flaps his wings, quite enjoying all the attention you are giving him at the moment - he loves it when you visit him and his human companion, and always basks in your peculiar kind of affection. It feels like attacking, and had it been anyone else, Cacucu would’ve already angrily pecked them whenever he could’ve reached. You, however, do all that squeezing, face-pressing into him, pretending to want to mouth at him and many more weirdly kind things with such care and a ton of compliments, that the saurian can’t help but preen.

“Wow, bro! You a real one, bro! I like you, bro!”

“Aaawwwwmhmheheenamwahmwahmwah!”

The sounds of smooching join the bird twittering, making the lounge room in the veterinarian’s house even more vibrant than before. The Qucusaurus just accepts his fate to be smothered, even if not really kissed, falling backwards against your palms and tucking his legs close to his body. 

“I could honestly eat you! Why snack-shaped if not edible?? Oh! Oh! Or I could put you in my pocket and bring you everywhere with m-”

“Chill, dude.”

You abruptly shut up, staring down at the quite content feathered baby in your hands. The saurian only blinks up at you and then turns his head towards the room’s entrance. You follow his example.

There, leaning on the doorframe, with arms crossed and the signature hat pushed off to rest on his back, stands Ifa. A knowing smile appears on his chapped lips, when he takes in the scene before him, looking from you to Cacucu and back.

Meanwhile you are staring at him incredulously, eyes slightly widened and mouth ajar. What did he just say?

“...did you just call me dude?”

“No way, bro!” The saurian seems to be on your side, jumping up on his feet and taking off in the air above your palms. This little show of support makes you feel justified, and now you are crossing your own arms, huffing in displeasure.

“Ifa, really? Me? Your partner? The love of your life?”

The white-haired male raises his brow, the corner of his mouth lifts too. His laid-off attitude is accentuated even more with the way he tilts his head and crosses one leg, still supporting the wall with his shoulder. Moreso there is a challenging look now in his eyes, boring into you with charming curiosity. Damn your lover for looking so effortlessly sexy!

But wait. You can totally make it his problem and also get your revenge.

Sure, pouring all your hardly-concealed love and adoration on Cacucu was nice and all, but there are still limits set by his small and fragile body. With a tall, toned man, however, you can stop holding back and even tackle him to the ground if you wanted to!

Oh-ho-ho, now you have a real case of cuteness aggression.

You quickly exchange looks with your soon-to-become partner-in-crime and need but a second to see that he is in complete agreement with you.

“Cacucu, get him.”

“Woah, woah, wait-”

Ifa bolts into the room obliquely when you jump towards him with the Qucusaurus swooping down from air. Grabbing the doorframe, you turn sharply, quickly locating your boyfriend, who’s just hopped over the backrest of the sofa and is now staring at you from behind the impromptu barricade.

“When I catch you, Ifa,” you threaten him, and your fingers twitch. You must squeeze this man.

“Okay, alright, babe, I was wrong,” the man puts one hand in front of him in a conciliatory gesture and uses the other to put the hat back on his head, simultaneously dodging his saurian companion’s aerial attacks.

“Too late, bro,” you grin rapaciously, slowly inching towards the two, and, once the vet is distracted, throw yourself at him full force, making you both fall onto the sofa, with him underneath you.

“Too late, bro, too late, bro!” Cacucu cheerfully repeats, flapping his wings above you.

The man squeezes his eyes shut from the impact his back makes with the cushions, and his arm instinctively flies to wrap around your waist. That’s his first mistake, because his embrace provokes the surge of affection on your part, and you wiggle your arms under his back. The air is knocked out of the man, when your hold tightens.

His second mistake is being hot once disheveled, with the hat falling over his forehead and the shirt opening wider due to two buttons undone, and you don’t deny yourself desire to latch onto his skin.

Ifa groans when he feels your teeth ghosting over his collarbones, lifting his free hand to adjust his hat and finally popping one eye open. His cheeks puff with air from held back laughter, when he sees how you rub your nose between his pecs with funny noises, mumbling something about wanting to bite him. He gasps when you indeed lightly bite him.

“Babe, chill, it’s still early in the afternoon.”

“It’s never too early to bother your boyfriend,” you snicker into his chest, scratching the small of his back with your nails, close to the sides. The man jolts and throws his head back with a sharp intake of breath.

“Archons, you are a menace.”

You hum happily and decide to have mercy, wiggling both arms from under his body. In a few seconds you are already straddling his thighs, reaching for his hat and taking it off. Cacucu, about whom you almost forgot, swoops down, latching his claws onto the brim, and zooms out of the room.

“Welp, good luck to me getting it back, I guess,” Ifa laughs, settling his palms on your hips, drawing circles with his thumbs. His gaze is warm when he looks up at you, and an eye-crinkling smile graces his handsome features.

“You’ll manage,” rolling your eyes, you cup his cheeks and bring your face closer, bumping your nose against his. “Besides… I like it when you are hatless. It means I can do… this!”

Somehow your fingers are in his hair already and you start messing with light mint locks, peppering his face with kisses.

And Ifa?

Ifa turns into a puddle underneath you.

[pearlywritings]

The Music of the Night event masterlist

Event post

Balalaika - Ifa

Biwa - Childe

Erhu - Blade

Flute - Alhaitham, Childe, Gallagher, Ifa, Jing Yuan, Kamisato Ayato, Phainon

Guitar - Neuvillette Albedo

Ocarina - Jiaoqiu

Euphonium - Dan Heng

Xylophone - Alhaitham

[pearlywritings]

hello! i came from the music of the night event and would like to request childe + biwa (exes), if possible.

thank you :)

Hi-hi! I haven't written something angsty in a while, so this one's not very long. Hopefully, it's still good,,,

Is goodbye really an adieu?

pairing: Childe x reader

prompt: exes

word count: 675 words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

Tartaglia is one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, respected and feared, known to be a fine warrior.

Childe is a reckless fella, who wears a smile that rarely reaches his sparkless stormy blue eyes, and is good at getting his way no matter the means.

Ajax hates being vulnerable.

And yet, he is clinging to you in utter desperation, fingers digging into your waist through the heavy sheepskin coat, his whole body pinning yours against the pine tree. The kisses he steals from you are open-mouthed and suffocate him. He gasps and pants heavy clouds of steam into this frosty morning, but still dives back, beckoned by your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and lets you mold your lips with his. It feels like torture when he thinks of coming back, of loading the wood onto his shoulders, letting you take the axe and leaving this grove. When you choke out his name, burying your face into his scarf and fingers - into the ginger hair, something in the man breaks, but he can only hold you, biting his lip to blood not to let your own name spill from it.

He’s done this to himself. He’s the one to blame for the heartache he gets every damn time he visits his family in his hometown. He’s the one who broke up with you after years of being in a relationship.

Truly, you could say you separated on amicable terms. He couldn’t keep giving you false hope and he found the strength to tell you that. He never excused it as him just being young and dumb. He spoke to you with raw honesty. 

He was too busy. He was always too far away. He was getting more and more emotionally constipated. But most importantly, climbing the ranks and making more and more enemies, he couldn’t let anyone put a target on you. The thought of you losing your life scared Ajax more than the idea of him losing you.

And you? Lips pursed and quivering, tears trembling on your lashes and hands fisted - you were the image of the heart breaking. And yet you understood. You understood, you smiled through your tears and only wished him to be safe. Even with your chest being torn open by his proposition, you still worried for his well-being.

You both are truly the same.

That’s why he loved you.

He still does.

When he’s in the capital or in a far away nation on a mission, the ache gets better. Sometimes he can live a day without a single thought about you. When he visits Morepesok though?

He somehow always finds his way back to you.

And despite everything, for some reason, you still welcome him.

He is well aware that his own lack of restraint is what doesn’t help the situation. But his family unintentionally makes the yearning so much worse.

To them you'll always be the best. The prettiest, the wittiest, the most hardworking and the most loving and loved one. You are already a part of the family in their minds - you are that dear and is always happily awaited for a visit. His mom still keeps the photos where you are together and asks him occasionally if someday you’ll reunite. His father can only give him a knowing look, and Ajax can almost feel the weight of it physically. And his siblings still hang out with you quite often, and it's not like he will ever forbid them. They adore you, which is mutual, and he just loves them too much. Even if their stories about you sometimes make his very being bleed, he still keeps every letter.

To return to where he once left. To the pain. To the pieces of two broken hearts. To the pools of such familiar eyes. To the warm embrace that feels like home. To you.

You haunt him. He knows you are not even trying.

Maybe he is just weak. Maybe that’s the reason he said a ‘goodbye’. Maybe he was always hoping to ‘see you again later’.

[pearlywritings]

hello! i adore you're writings! may i request alhaitham + xylophone from your event? thank you!

thank you for your kind words, dear anon <3

It's a secret... but from just one person

pairing: Alhaitham x fem!reader

prompt: secret relationship

word count: 1.2k+ words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

“No, can you believe it!? She told me– ME, her best friend, that whoever she is dating is none of my concern!”

“It seems peculiar to me that you, a possessor of such a bright mind, as rumors have it, can’t wrap your head around the fact that she indeed doesn’t owe you any explanation.” “You–!”

Alhaitham, without taking his crystal-shaped irises from the book in hand, tilts to the left, when an eraser flies in his direction. It hits the backseat of the sofa and falls onto the cushions near him, jumping two times before stilling. The architect, sitting cross-legged on a daybed near a huge stained glass window, fists an outstretched hand, cursing under his breath for missing.

“Of course you, with an emotional capacity of a fork, wouldn't understand me! How can I not be concerned? What if she doesn’t say anything because she feels threatened??”

“By your pushing? Oh, undoubtedly.”

“Or what if she worries that her ‘boyfriend’,” he shows quotation marks with his fingers, a scowl tugging on his mouth, “will get jealous because she has a guy for her best friend?” Alhaitham glances up from his book, giving Kaveh such a skeptical look, it makes the blonde want to throw a pencil at the Scribe too.

He actually contemplates on the thought for a little while, but decides that, on second thought, it would’ve been a waste: while he had two more erasers nearby, he took just one pencil with him. So he chooses to bury his nose back into the blueprints on the board he propped in front of him.

“Why am I even telling you all of this…”

“What a coincidence,” the ashen-haired man returns to his book and turns the page, “I’ve been asking myself the very same question.”

After that the silence settles in the room - busy with their respective tasks, two men no longer converse. The only sounds heard are the rustling of the pages and big sheets of paper, with a pencil scribbling and the architect occasionally groaning when something doesn’t appear to be according to his vision.

Kaveh truly can’t help it - you are very dear to him, the biggest support he’s ever had in his life, and a person he’s grown to care about like as if you were his little sister. Obviously he’s going to be concerned when you tell him nothing about a man you’ve chosen as your lover. There is absolutely no reason for you to withhold a piece of such important information from him, unless there is something awful going on, right?

He wants to know so badly, yet he can’t have you distancing yourself from him; as much as he doesn't want to admit it, his sarcastic neighbour has a point - should he put more pressure on you, it can result in a saddening ending.

So, as it seems, for now he can only guess and grumble, until you are ready to tell him.

About an hour later Alhaitham closes the book and puts it on the armrest. Kaveh ignores him when he stands up and leaves the lounge room, glancing up only when the man reappears in different clothes, with hair combed (though the Khashrevar graduate hardly sees the difference with how randomly cut his locks look) and a touch of perfume. Kaveh gives him a suspicious look.

“Is there an event I am not aware of?”

“You could say that. But it's the one where you are not invited to.”

“Okay…” the blonde says slowly, lowering the board with his blueprints. “Since when do you willingly attend events? Moreso dress up for them?”

“None of your concern, dear senior,” Alhaitham smirks, and something in the quirk of the lips and the haughty tone irks Kaveh more than ever before. It's as if the Scribe conveyed some veiled message, some important information addressed to the architect specifically.

But before he can ask anything, the other man is out of the front door.

Oh, you can definitely believe it. You’ve been witness to your boyfriend’s and best friend’s verbal skirmish way too many times, you can almost predict what taunt one of them is going to respond with next. So, when Alhaitham gives you a recap of their afternoon’s conversation, you are not surprised, not in the slightest.

“You two are so childish,” you roll your eyes, putting a vase with a bouquet of fresh, blooming viparyas onto the dining table. A soft smile graces your lips as you cup one of the flowers delicately, cradling its beautiful blossom.

“Should I remind you that it was your idea to keep our relationship a secret from Kaveh?” Your lover joins your side and nestles your back into his chest, both of his big palms resting on your waist. Your smile grows wider and gaze turns borderline dreamy, as you lean into him more, grazing the knuckles of his left hand with your fingertips.

“I was worried he’d be even more disgruntled at you,” you sigh, dropping your arm to your side. “He tends to be overprotective of me. I know, I know, you two can be civil and even amicable with each other, but Kaveh is emotional.”

“Just say ‘hysterical’, habibti, no need to hide behind the words,” the man behind you says monotonously, and you half-heartedly slap the back of his hand. The smirk he hides in your hair as he leans to kiss your temple tells you he is half-serious himself.

“Maybe you are right though,” you hum, welcoming his arms to wrap around your middle and putting your own atop of his. He starts slowly swaying from side to side. “It wasn’t my brightest idea. He’s stressing you, he’s stressing himself and soon he’ll most likely start stressing me, if I don’t reveal to him the mysterious character of my dear boyfriend. I am actually quite surprised he hasn’t figured it out yet or that someone from our friend’s circle said nothing to him.”

“I suspect they all found it hilarious,” Alhaitham offers an explanation, turning around with you still being in his hold, to check on the oven. “Or challenging. It’s keeping a secret from just one person after all and seeing for how long it can go on.”

“Mhm, I think you are right,” you chuckle, gleefully patting his forearms, tapping the rhythm known only to you. “But the joke has lasted long enough, let’s tell Kaveh. We can invite him to dinner where I can officially introduce you as my boyfriend!”

“He’s going to lose his marbles. And what happened to ‘I don't want him to be pissy at you’?”

“That’s not how I phrased that,” the man gives you a ‘sorry not sorry’ kind of look, and you can’t help but think that for all his restraint and wisdom, your beloved can really be impossibly childish. “Besides, I know you can handle that, look at all that muscle,” and you squeeze his thick upper arm. You earn yourself a blank expression as a response.

“If Kaveh arranges the ‘how well you know your lover’ quiz for me, and there is a question ‘why, in your opinion, your partner fell in love with you in the first place?’, I am telling him you are enamored with my arms.”

“Well, you’ll answer one question correctly at least,” snickering, your turn in his embrace to throw your arms around his neck and smooch him on the cheek. He shakes his head with an exasperated sigh, but nevertheless leans down, to ghost his lips across your forehead.

“I’ll answer all of them correctly.”

“Hehe, I’ll hold you to that, habibi.”

[pearlywritings]

Jiaoqiu with Ocarina (maybe with 2-3 kids)

guess who got carried away with the length on the very first fic...

Hide-and-Seek

pairing: Jiaoqiu x fem!foxian!reader

prompt: spending time with kids

word count: 1.5k+ words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

The house is quiet. Suspiciously quiet, if Jiaoqiu is being honest with himself. His big ears move, hearing strained to catch the tiniest rustle, a whisper of breath and maybe even a wildly beating heart, full of excitement.

The foxian cautiously moves from his spot in the kitchen, from where the little game has started, palm pressed to the counter until he reaches the doorframe. Gripping the wood with his clawed hand, the man turns his head from side to side, trying to detect any movement in the living room. His ear twitches and he inhales through the nose, sniffing the air. Hm, it seems like no one’s here.

Slowly crossing the room, a hand always gliding either the backrest of the furniture or finding the surface of the wall, Jiaoqiu walks out into the hallway, stopping close to the door frame again. His fingertips slide lower, catching the little horizontal scratches, and the pink-furred foxian smiles.

’Ah, they grow so quickly.’

He still remembers two tiny bundles, only minutes old and wailing, being passed into his arms, and one more was pressed close to your chest. Nowadays three  little vixens start to display wonders of disguise, testing their skills and encouraging their dad to improve his own reactions and instinctual senses.

And is there a better game for that than hide-and-seek?

His next destination is the first-floor bathroom. Soft mat muffles his steps, as he walks in and takes a second to remember his surroundings. To the left should be the toilet, which means the vanity is to the right and the bath must be ahead of him- hm?

Instead of the bath tube’s edge, his fingers touch a curtain. Who closes the curtain if there is no one taking a bath?

The rings rattle against the metal bar when the man yanks back the fabric. He hears a hitch in breath, and slowly, almost menacingly, bends over the edge, face turned right to the insides of the bath. He must look either very funny right now or quite terrifying, he thinks. 

A second passes, then five, then ten. With his eyes shut close, Jiaoqiu still seems to look right into the opponent’s soul, surely making them nervous. 

“Well, well, it looks like I found yooouuu,” he finally sing-songs, and lowers his face further, sniffing the air again. His tail swishes in content. “Come on, little bay leaf, let's get you out of here.”

The bearer of the nickname - the youngest of the triplets, - lets out the breath she was holding and huffs in annoyance, uncurling from around her tail. Sitting up, she lifts her arms, making sure to touch her dad’s shoulders.

“This was too fast! Please say you didn't find me first!”

“Don't want to disappoint you, dear, but…” an amused grin tugs on his lips as she groans. He straightens up, lifting the girl in his arms, and she immediately wraps her limbs around his body. “Next time you decide to hide in the bathroom, don't replace things, namely the curtain.”

“I thought the additional cover wouldn't hurt…” she mutters, and he chuckles, kissing the top of her head.

They leave the bathroom together. His daughter clings to him and he needs only one hand to support her body against his. The other tightly grips the railing as he ascends the stairs to the second floor.

Next room he visits is so intimately familiar to him that he could put it on the same pedestal as the kitchen. Your shared bedroom. And sure enough he hears rustling from the bed when he walks in, and a moment later your voice graces his ears with its usual lovely lilt.

“Hi, beloved. Nice to see you too, baby.”

“Mom!” The young foxian in his arms twists around.

“She is waving at me,” you comment for your husband, and he nods, rearranging his hold on the girl.

“Thank you, darling. Do you mind if I leave her with you while I am searching for the other two?”

“Not at all! Give me my baby! I am making grabby motions with my hands by the way.”

Snorting, he makes exactly four steps to the foot of the bed and, gently grabbing his daughter’s sides, detaches her from his body and settles on the mattress. Giggling, she must be quickly crawling to you, because soon enough he hears smooching sounds and an exaggerated ‘mom, stoooooop’.

But as he is about to turn around and continue his search, something strange draws his attention back to the bed. He is supposed to sense the vitals of two (not counting him) people in the room. Then why is there definitely the third… His sharp senses can't be fooling him, right?

Hm, he'll let it slide for now. He was planning to join you once finished either way.

Jiaoqiu can hardly mask a smirk, when, stepping out into the hallway, his suspicions are proved by a quiet cheer of his other daughter and your rushed hush. Teamwork, huh? Tsk, tsk, how unfair.

Searching the second bathroom and the kids’ rooms appeared to be futile. His son is nowhere to be found, which isn't surprising - he's always been a bit more creative than his sisters. The healer still remembers the spiced chicken the boy tried to make - the connoisseur himself nearly teared up from the scorching mix- wait, spice?

To the best of his ability, Jiaoqiu hurries downstairs, through the living room and into the kitchen. His hand effortlessly finds the handle of the door to the storage room and yanks it open. Immediately the combined smell of all kinds of seasoning and dried herbs hits his nose and throws him off a little. If the boy has truly hidden inside, then that's some clever thinking. And quite reckless too.

Sniffing is pointless in a space like that, so the foxian can only strain his ears and fumble with his outstretched arms. The room is not that big, so typically it shouldn’t take too much time wandering around. But the man makes one circle, then one more, and on the fourth examination round with all the shelves patted upon and beneath, there seems to be no sign of his child.

And then he hears that. A tiny muffled sneeze somewhere above him. Above?

Jiaoqiu lifts his head, turning it from side to side. Everything from the top shelves was moved to the lower ones, so he could reach for anything he needed with a raised hand without utilising the ladder- Wait.

It takes half a minute to locate the set of bars, leaned against the wall. Sliding his palm up, the man almost has to stand on his tip toes, but it’s definitely worth it, as he soon touches the fur of a fluffy tail, successfully finding the cunning little fella who climbed all the way to the top shelf.

“Got you,” he muses, taking a step back. The next moment, however, the tone of his voice shifts to concern. “Are you alright, son? You are not feeling lightheaded, are you?”

Realizing that he’s really been caught and correctly indentified, the boy quickly climbs down the stairs and grabs his father’s hand, leading him out of the spice-filled room.

“I have a mask on!” He proudly declares, when Jiaoqiu closes the door. A light caress of the child’s cheek indeed confirms the boy’s words - he is wearing one of his father’s medical masks. When did he sneak it from his stocks, the healer wonders, hooking his finger under the rubber band, taking the surely soaked with breath a spice particles material off. “And I also had a wet cloth with me to wipe my face and nose from time to time.”

“It’s good to know that you are prudent,” Jiaoqiu sighs, rubbing his forehead. “And I admit, your hiding space is…creative, although it almost gave me some gray hairs. Promise me not to stay long in this room, alright? We wouldn’t want to cause you some respiratory complications.”

“I just wanted to mask my scent-” the boy falls silent when he sees his dad’s furrowed eyebrows. “Okay, I understood, dad, and I promise.”

“Good, and I believe you’ll keep it, little one. Now,” he claps his hand together, the frown gone as fast as it appeared, “go wash your face and hands, and better change clothes too. And while you're at it, I’ll go and get your sister from under her mother’s tail.”

“Wait, I am not the last one you found!?” His son gasps in disbelief and Jiaoqiu can only imagine the gobsmacked expression he is wearing. Oh, it must be priceless.

“Yes and no,” he smiles slyly, taking his small hand and tagging him to the exit of the kitchen. “Come on, the sooner you clean up, the sooner we all can cuddle.”

As the two go separate ways in the hallway - the boy heading to the bathroom and the man upstairs once again, - the foxian can’t help but hum a simple melody, thinking how lucky he is to have such a perky family.

[pearlywritings]

To the anon with Blade request who asked if this new event is another reference to the Phantom of the Opera, YES IT IS.

I'VE BEEN FIXATED ON IT FOR LONGER THAN I CAN REMEMBER