sugarmapl

[sugarmapl]

been having a really hard time and having writer’s block on top of it…

just wanted to say thank you all for your patience! i’m still here and new chapters are coming <3

appreciate you :)

[sugarmapl]

i want to write xmas fics for more pairings but i also wanna get my chapter updates done ahhhh the pain of creation

[sugarmapl]

hot and cold

pairing: wrioney (lyney x wriothesley)

word count: ~2,000

xmas one shot

angst and hurt/comfort with some tension (light spoilers for 4.2)

cross-posted on ao3!

surprise! happy holidays! hope you like it <3

Summary:

Lyney isn’t ready to forgive.

Wriothesley doesn’t want to be forgiven.

Their paths cross anyway, on a snowy winter day.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

Lyney whispered the words under his breath, escaping past his frozen lips in a puff of white. Gentle snowfall cascaded around him, and the streets of Fontaine had been overridden with the stuff. The white powder crunched under his boots as he hurriedly made his way through the empty city.

Only a few other stragglers were roaming at these hours. After all, most of the people in Fontaine were spending this time with their family. They were likely bundled up in their houses, warm by the fire and enjoying fun and games in each other’s company. The magician felt a pang of jealousy every time he passed a brightly lit window and overheard the sound of laughter.

Lyney’s only family were Lynette, Freminet, and the House of the Hearth, and the House did not particularly care for holidays revolving around family. It reminded too many of them of what they had lost and of what they were currently missing.

Father was noticeably absent as well, but even in her absence, her orders were ever-present. She deemed holidays the perfect time to take care of business, as most of the country was preoccupied. That was how Lyney and his siblings had found themselves with brand new missions in place of gift boxes that morning, and why Lyney was currently freezing his butt off in the biting cold air.

He had hoped that the hydro dragon heard his soothing words and ceased the incessant snowfall, but it showed no sign of slowing even now. Perhaps Freminet’s ideals were getting to him and it was indeed a pointless effort to begin with, or maybe snowfall operated by completely different rules than the rain, and the hydro dragon wasn’t actually crying at all.

Either way, Lyney didn’t care for the snow or the cold and wanted to get out of it as quickly as possible. Even with a pyro vision, he could only do so much to keep himself warm when it was so freezing. That, and maybe a part of him welcomed the sting of bitter cold on his skin. It kept him grounded, kept him distracted, kept him in the right mindset to do what needed to be done.

Still, the snowflakes sticking to his skin and dampening his clothes were unpleasant, so he tried one last time under his breath, no matter how fruitless an endeavor it might be.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

“Maybe you should worry less about the hydro dragon and more about yourself. You’re bound to freeze to death, out here dressed like that.”

A deep voice suddenly interrupted his low rambling, startling Lyney so much that he nearly lost his footing in the slippery snow, sliding to an abrupt stop instead. He whirled around with a glare, but also a hint of surprise.

Unfortunately, it was a voice that he recognized, and also one that he had hoped to never hear again. He especially didn’t expect to hear it outside of the stuffy walls of the Fortress of Meropede.

“What are you doing here, Wriothesley?” Lyney huffed with barely-concealed disdain. He watched as his breath curled out in tendrils as he spoke, like the smoke of a dragon close to breathing out its fire.

“What, I’m not allowed above ground once in a while?” the Duke replied with his usual degree of sarcasm.

Lyney was not in the mood. His normally playful attitude was reserved for those he felt earned it, and Wriothesley had certainly lost that right after what he had done. So, Lyney didn’t even bother with the usual magician’s charm and let his ugly side out, feeling the bitterness of the cold seep into his words.

“I’d certainly prefer it that way. But if you must walk around in the light of day, at least do it far away from me.”

“Ouch!” Wriothesley proclaimed, mimicking a wound to his heart. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but your words sting. Aren’t they a bit harsh for a crowd-pleasing magician?”

“I see no crowd that needs pleasing,” Lyney snarked back, feeling his body heat up slightly just from growing agitated.

Wriothesley took a step closer with a grin. The snow seemed to reflect off of his pale irises and sparkled like glitter in his dark hair, illuminating his typically intimidating figure. All Lyney could think absentmindedly was that it looked quite pretty in the current winter landscape, like the Duke was born from the snow itself.

“Well, you are an entertainer, right? Then the least you could do is entertain me by taking my cloak. I don’t want to spend my precious time off watching a kitten freeze to death in the cold.”

As he spoke, Wriothesley had removed his heavy fur-lined cloak and held it out for Lyney to take. The magician just stared at it like it would burn him if he actually did touch it before looking back at Wriothesley with a suspicious glare.

“What do you really want?” he snapped. He was quickly losing his patience.

The Duke sighed before tossing the cloak over Lyney’s head. The blonde yelped as his vision was replaced with pure black before yanking the offending fabric off of him. Regrettably, even those few seconds felt like heavenly relief. The residual heat from Wriothesley’s own body and the warmth of the fur was enough to have Lyney craving more.

His face must have been telling, because Wriothesley snorted.

“Why are you being so stubborn? Just put it on already, then I’ll tell you what I’m doing.”

With a grumble of complaint, Lyney fixed the cloak around his shoulders and pulled it tight. The relief he felt was immediate, but he tried not to show it even as his shivering slowed to a stop.

“See? Much better, isn’t it?”

“What about yourself?” Lyney griped. “Or does the burning force of your smugness keep you warm?”

“It certainly doesn’t hurt,” the Duke jested. “But I’m a bit more suited for the cold than someone of your… stature.”

He eyed Lyney’s much smaller frame with something akin to amusement, which of course set the magician’s nerves alight once more.

“I thought you were going to explain yourself? Instead you seem rather concerned with which buttons of mine to push,” Lyney pointed out.

“Sorry, I just can’t seem to help myself. Your reaction to teasing is honestly pretty hilarious. It reminds me of a grumpy kitten,” Wriothesley replied nonchalantly, as if that were a justifiable reason.

“Well as thrilled as I am to provide you with amusement, I have more important things to be doing, so if you’ll excuse me,” the magician remarked with a swish of the cloak as he turned to leave.

However, before he could even take a step, he felt a strong hand encircling his forearm, preventing him from moving further.

“Wait, wait,” the Duke sighed, spinning Lyney back around so they were facing each other. “The real reason I approached you is to patch things up.”

“What?” Lyney questioned with a raised brow.

Wriothesley released his hold once he was sure the magician would no longer try to flee.

“Believe it or not, I don’t particularly enjoy being on bad terms with people, and I do feel bad about how things left off between us knowing what I know now,” he finally explained.

Wriothesley looked slightly guilty but refused to look away. His piercing eyes remained locked on Lyney’s own, searching for a reaction. The magician wasn’t even sure what his own expression was at the moment. He just never expected such a turn of events from the notoriously ice-cold Duke.

“So, what? You came to apologize?” the blonde asked in disbelief.

“Well, not exactly. That would require me to be sorry for my actions, which I’m not. I just want to be rid of any unnecessary hostility.”

“Is this a joke to you!?” Lyney shouted, ripping the cloak off and shoving it into Wriothesley’s chest.

“You put me and my siblings through hell that day, and you can’t even feel guilty enough to apologize!?”

Wriothesley frowned.

“I couldn’t have known then what I know now, and I still think that my actions were justified. Considering that you and your siblings were working as foreign spies under my watch, I think your punishment was actually rather light. Still, I can sympathize with your situation, and so I want to dispel any hard feelings between us. Even so, I will not grovel for forgiveness for a transgression that I don’t personally believe in.”

He took a few steps closer so that he was crowding up into Lyney’s personal space. The magician shivered, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold that was once again biting at his exposed skin or something else entirely. But he couldn’t think about that, especially not now.

“I didn’t get an apology from you either, nor do I expect one. I can recognize that we both were doing what we thought was for the best and leave it at that. No one was right or wrong,” the Duke said with finality.

The white cloud of his breath ghosted over Lyney’s face where a bright red blush was settling in. Wriothesley leaned in closer, and Lyney thought his heart was almost going to beat out of his chest. Had he finally had enough of Lyney and was going to attack? The magician was at a disadvantage at close-range.

Or was he going to do something else? Like-

No. No no no no NO.

Was the cold finally getting to his head?

POP!

The blonde was abruptly snapped back to reality as the cloak clicked into place around his shoulders and he was shrouded in warmth once again. Wriothesley straightened it out before stepping back with a cough.

“At least keep it on, even if you’re angry at me. You’re way too exposed to be out here,” he lightly scolded.

Lyney scoffed, but most of his fire had dwindled to a low simmer, embers struggling to stay alight against the icy cold.

Truthfully, Lyney could understand where Wriothesley was coming from. If the roles were reversed, Lyney was sure that he would have done the same, if not worse, had he been in the Duke’s position. He was emotional, but not stupid.

Still, that deep dark part of him, the pain of a night that he tried so many times to forget, the feeling of his siblings slipping through his fingers, the fear of never seeing Lynette again, all those things sat in the back of his mind like an ever-present fog blurring the line between what is rational.

He was angry. He was always angry. But, he finally realized, not at Wriothesley. Lyney looked to the sky and let the gentle flakes scatter on his cheeks before melting into his skin. He let out a deep breath and watched the air condense and then dissipate like the fog. He knew that he was angry with himself. He always had been.

“Now you’re even critiquing my fashion choices,” he laughed dryly.

“Oh trust me, I greatly admire your fashion choices. I’m just not so sure they’re suited for the cold,” Wriothesley commented appreciatively. And was that a hint of flirting Lyney detected?

He looked back at the Duke just to be sure and nearly regretted it. The intensity of that icy gaze was enough to set him on fire for a multitude of reasons. Suddenly, he got an idea.

“You know,” Lyney drawled out, putting to use every ounce of his charm. His gaze had turned sultry, as though he were seeing Wriothesley in a new light. “There are other ways you could keep me warm.”

The Duke faltered for only a moment in his shock before he was once again his confident, snarky self. He grinned like he had just won a prize, and Lyney was feeling ready to be unwrapped.

“I take it that means my non-apology worked?”

“Shut up and take me home already.”

He was right, the cold was a good distraction.

[sugarmapl]

sorry i’m so inactive on here these days im not good at social media stuff but i have been updating my fics!! it’s just a bit more slowly than before due to unforeseen life events !!

thanks to everyone who’s still sticking around!! <3

i’ll make your life a living hell new chapter is up now!

[sugarmapl]

listen, i’m sorry i’ve been so quiet but I LITERALLY GOT DOUBLE BRONCHITIS BACK TO BACK CAN I PLEASE CATCH A FUCKING BREAK 😭😭😭

i’m sorry 😞 more coming soon

[sugarmapl]

strings - chapter 21

sorry i’ve really been slacking on updating on here. this chapter has been up for two days already ahhh

anyway please enjoy :)

[sugarmapl]

strings - chapter 20

finally the next chapter is here!! sorry again for the wait, this one didn’t come easy but i’m happy with how it finally turned out! hope you enjoy :)

[sugarmapl]

hiii i know i don’t necessarily owe anyone an explanation as for why the next chapter of strings has been a little delayed but i want to give one anyway bc i feel bad leaving you guys in the dark after all the love and support!

the simple explanation is that basically since i’ve recovered from being sick and went back to work, they’ve asked me to work double my normal hours

i’m usually so tired by the time that i get home that i can’t write as much or as well as i would like, and i never wanna give you guys anything less than my best!

i know i don’t have a fixed upload schedule, but i always feel bad when there’s a long stretch between uploads

that being said, i hope to complete it and upload it this weekend while i have some down time. thanks for understanding and look forward to it soon! sorry for the wait :) ily <3

[sugarmapl]

strings - chapter 19: cloud strider

latest chapter is up now!! check it out: here !!

also, i just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who supports me! this fic has reached over 10,000 hits on ao3 and i’m honestly still in shock about it. i never could have imagined this level of support for anything! it means a lot to me, really.

i’ve always loved writing but i always just did it for myself. being able to share my work with you guys and having people appreciate it means the world to me. thank you so much to everyone who supports and reads ANY of my fics!

i’m so grateful for all the love and i will do my best to give it all back to you!! THANK YOU!! :) <3

[sugarmapl]

Chapter 2 up now!!!

i’ll make your life a living hell

what’s this? a new cytham fic?? and it’s a multi-chapter fic???? surprise!!

i know it’s been a long time, but i’m really excited about this one! hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Demons aren’t supposed to remember their past lives, so why does Cyno remember Alhaitham so clearly? It would be sweet if they were lovers, but they had been each other’s mortal enemies before Cyno died an early death. Well, Cyno supposed becoming a demon just made it easier to make Alhaitham’s life a living hell.

Enemies to Lovers, College/University AU, Slow Burn, Rated M

[sugarmapl]

i’ll make your life a living hell

what’s this? a new cytham fic?? and it’s a multi-chapter fic???? surprise!!

i know it’s been a long time, but i’m really excited about this one! hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Demons aren’t supposed to remember their past lives, so why does Cyno remember Alhaitham so clearly? It would be sweet if they were lovers, but they had been each other’s mortal enemies before Cyno died an early death. Well, Cyno supposed becoming a demon just made it easier to make Alhaitham’s life a living hell.

Enemies to Lovers, College/University AU, Slow Burn, Rated M

[sugarmapl]

strings - Chapter 17 “renewed”

woooo! the archive is back up and i got a new chapter of strings for you to celebrate :)

please enjoy!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45533629

[sugarmapl]

millennia (xiao birthday fic)

this is an older fic reposted from ao3 while the site is down. please enjoy!

Summary:

Xiao had already lived for millennia. But if it was for Rex Lapis, he could live a few millennia more.

{angst, hurt/comfort, fluff - rated T}

—

Another slash, and the abyss mage fell to the ground with a thud. The earth all around Xiao had already been soaked scarlet from the countless outpour of blood. He had long lost track of the time he spent fighting. There seemed to be no end to the demons and monsters that day, and the yaksha could feel the exhaustion slowly creeping its way through his bones, the karmic debt growing thicker by the moment.

He could see it manifesting in tendrils of black around him, tainting the air and the soil beneath his feet. All nearby grass and glaze lilies wilted due to their proximity to the adeptus. At the moment, he was nothing more than a beacon of destruction, a walking flag of death. He had defended Liyue against demons for centuries, but when it came to defending against his own personal demons, he was useless.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his side and looked down. He thought he had finally taken care of all the monsters in the area but apparently he was wrong. His senses had become dulled after hours of overexertion. A spear was currently plunged deep through his torso, though Xiao showed no indication of discomfort. He had long grown numb to such pain. A lone hilichurl stood behind him, looking proud of its work.

In a flash, Xiao’s polearm was summoned again and he swung it effortlessly in a graceful arc, cutting the creature’s head clean off. Its lifeless body plopped down unceremoniously as even more blood stained the ground. Xiao blinked, as if coming back to himself before yanking the spear out of his stomach and tossing it aside. Belatedly, he noted that the moon was high in the sky, though he was pretty sure the sun had just barely risen when he started.

He slumped to the ground, kneeling in the grass. The warmth of the blood beneath him seeped into his clothes but he was past the point of caring. Exhaustion had finally overtaken him. The karma flooded into every vessel in his body, and only then did Xiao cry out. Physical pain he was mostly numb to, but the crushing weight of karma tearing apart his soul from the inside was a sensation that he never quite got used to.

It burned hotter than liquid fire in his veins while his skin was simultaneously ice cold. But worst of all was the mental strain. All genres of horrible images flashed to life before Xiao’s eyes and he was powerless to stop them. He clutched at his head and screamed, but no relief came, only the brief satisfaction when blackness completely enshrouded his vision as he finally passed out.

When Xiao opened his eyes again he was in a beautiful gilded cage. His arms and legs were bound by golden chains and in his back he felt two spots of throbbing pain. There was wetness on his cheeks and Xiao realized that he was crying, salty tears pouring out like a flood as he sank to his knees. The goddess in front of him peered at him through the bars with a sneer.

“It was for your own good, little bird,” she said in a deceptively delicate voice. “We can’t have you flying away, can we?”

Xiao couldn’t even respond, too busy choking on his sobs. It wasn’t like he wanted to reply anyway. He hated that woman more than anything. She had lured him and trapped him, making him commit unspeakable acts in her name. Any innocence the young adeptus had before was lost because of her. And then she had even taken his wings, his last hope of freedom.

The goddess seemed uncaring about his lack of response, coming closer to the cage and sticking her hand through the bars. She held up something in front of his face, small and cube-like. It wobbled in her hand like it was made of jelly.

“Do you know what this is, little one?” she asked him. He shook his head.

“It’s a dream. Have you ever tasted a dream before?”

Again, he shook his head. How could a dream take such a shape? And why would he eat it?

“Go ahead and try it, I think you’ll find that you enjoy it.”

Xiao didn’t trust the woman, and tried to resist. He knew that whatever her true intentions were, they were nefarious, but he was severely lacking in strength. How could a battered and starving adeptus compare to a full-fledged god? As the gelatinous substance got closer and closer, the alluring smell invaded Xiao’s nostrils and he felt compelled to eat it.

It smelled so sweet, so appetizing. The adeptus couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten anything. But no, he had to stay strong. The goddess, having had enough, pried open his mouth with her other hand and shoved the dream inside. Then, she forced his mouth closed and ordered him to swallow it. Reluctantly, he began to chew. It was… delicious. The flavor exploded on Xiao’s tongue and he couldn’t help the satisfied moan that left him. He had completely forgotten the pain and the agony, only chasing after the chewy sweetness until it was gone.

Immediately, he craved more. He needed more. The goddess smiled down at him, a cruel twist to her lips as she said, “I told you you’d like it.”

Thus, the merciless goddess had trained Xiao to devour dreams. And the adeptus was addicted. She had Xiao eat the dreams of enemies and innocent civilians alike, sometimes leaving them mentally scarred, sometimes leaving them brain-dead. Xiao knew that it was wrong but he couldn’t disobey. And he often found that he didn’t even want to. All he wanted was more, more, more. That was how he became known as the bloodhound of an evil god.

Even when Rex Lapis rescued Xiao many years later, he couldn’t forget the taste of dreams. The Lord of Geo had to keep the little adeptus locked up until they were able to wean him off of them. He would feed Xiao bits and pieces of his own dreams until eventually, the yaksha was able to live without them again. But sometimes, and though he never told anyone he suspected that Rex Lapis knew anyway, he still craved the taste of dreams.

It was just another heavy stone in the pile of guilt that weighed constantly on Xiao’s mind. How could he crave such a horrible thing? It was selfish, and cruel, and it reminded Xiao that he was nothing more than a slaughterer at the end of the day, no matter how much the Traveler or anyone else tried to convince him otherwise.

Xiao awoke with a start, once again back in the plains of Liyue. The blood that soaked through his clothes had long grown cold. He must have fallen asleep, the memories he was forced to relive were a consequence of his karma. Though it was all in the past, the sweet taste that lingered on his tongue was very real. Xiao sighed in disappointment.

He really was a broken thing, wasn’t he? How many years had it been? And he still hadn’t changed at all. He had no idea why Rex Lapis was so intent on having him around. Why he had saved Xiao’s life so many times. It made no sense, but it seemed that since Morax had first laid eyes on Xiao, he was determined to take care of the adeptus and keep him by his side. But Xiao knew that he would only ever be damaged goods.

His stomach growled and his mouth began to water. No, no, this couldn’t be happening. Had his karma gotten so bad that he completely lacked control? Or maybe the memories had felt all too real, and Xiao thought he was back in the past. Was it the past? He didn’t know anymore. His mind was fuzzy. Maybe he was still dreaming. The pressure of karmic debt seemed to get heavier by the second.

Xiao really wished his siblings were there. No one understood his suffering like they did, and they always knew what to do. Bonanus would softly pet his hair and tell him that everything would be okay. Indarias would challenge him to a friendly duel to blow off steam. Menogias would rant about his latest outfit designs, begging that Xiao model them for him. And Bosacius would sit Xiao down with a gentle hand on his shoulder and insist they have a talk until all of Xiao’s worries were out in the open.

An emptiness echoed deep in his heart at the thought of their passing. He felt that they completed him, balancing his strengths and weaknesses in a way that was difficult to manage now that he was alone. He had tried to follow after them many times, attempting to make peace, but Rex Lapis never allowed it. The god always told Xiao that it was not yet his time. That he was still needed.

Though he disagreed, Xiao would never question his god. And so, he powered on, if only to fulfill his promise to Rex Lapis. He had tried to open up more recently, to establish new bonds and revive old ones. But moments like now, when he was struggling not to go break into the nearest mortal’s abode and devour their dreams like a glutton, he was reminded why he kept such a distance in the first place. He was not deserving of those bonds.

He stood up, vision blurry, and tried in vain to teleport back to his room at Wangshu Inn. If he could just get back and have some almond tofu, it might be enough to satisfy his cravings for the meantime. But it seemed that he didn’t have enough energy left to teleport, so he began the wobbly walk back on foot. It wasn’t too far anyway.

When he finally made it to the inn’s lobby, Verr Goldet looked up stunned from behind the desk. Xiao was sure his current appearance was less than stellar, but offered no explanation. He merely turned and headed up the stairs to his room.

“Are you alright?” the boss lady called after him once she had broken out of her shock.

“I’m fine,” Xiao said with a waved dismissal of his hand, “Just have Smiley Yanxiao send up some almond tofu, please.”

The adeptus stumbled down the hallway to his room, staggering as he tried desperately to ignore the temptation of countless sleeping patrons tucked away in their beds. He finally reached it, tumbling inside and slamming the door closed behind him. He leaned against the other side, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as his heart pounded wildly.

“Xiao,” a deep voice said, startling Xiao so much that he jumped in alarm.

His eyes shot open and he saw none other than Rex Lapis sitting on the edge of his bed. The god quickly stood up and walked over to him, examining him from head to toe.

“What happened? You’re injured,” Rex Lapis said, prodding his side.

In all honesty, Xiao had forgotten he had even been stabbed. The pressure of his karmic debt had been much more agonizing, and then the craving for dreams had nearly driven him mad. He wanted to ask what Rex Lapis was doing there, but couldn’t conjure up the words. Recently, the god had been visiting the adeptus a lot more frequently. Ever since the incident at the Chasm, he seemed extra protective of Xiao.

“What?” the adeptus asked instead, still out of it. He would normally never address his god so informally. The pounding in his head was relentless, begging for a sweet taste of ecstasy.

“Your karma…” Rex Lapis trailed off, still examining him.

Xiao attempted to move past him. “I’m fine.”

But as he went to go around the Archon, he stumbled. Rex Lapis quickly caught him, holding him close to his body. It was like instant relief. Xiao’s head cleared up and his senses returned almost immediately. The touch of a god was not to be underestimated. Merely being in Rex Lapis’ presence was enough to ease the burden of his karma temporarily.

The god gently placed Xiao on the bed before kneeling in front of him. “How do you feel now?”

“Much better, thank you,” Xiao confessed, looking to the side in embarrassment. Once again, he had inconvenienced his Archon.

“Xiao, look at me,” Rex Lapis gently guided the smaller’s cheek until the other was meeting his eyes. “There is no need to feel ashamed. I have seen you at your best and at your worst. You can always come to me if you are feeling unwell.”

“But you no longer wish to be the god of this land. I do not dare to burden you with more problems after you have already stepped down,” the adeptus said softly.

“You are never a burden to me. Even though I have retired, I will never go back on my word to protect you,” the god told him seriously. Then, he cradled Xiao’s head into his chest, holding him there.

Xiao sucked in a harsh breath. For some reason, the words and the softness of his touch brought Xiao back to over a millennia ago. When he was surrounded by adepti and gods alike, all crowding around him with joy on their faces and love in their hearts. They ate with him, laughed with him, drank with him, and gave him gifts. Xiao was but a young, nearly feral yaksha, and yet they all cared for him.

Among all who attended the occasion, only Rex Lapis and a few others remained. Xiao didn’t understand how the god had lived on even longer than he had when they both lost so much. “How do you keep going?” he asked, voice muffled in the god’s chest.

“Sometimes it is hard,” Rex Lapis confessed, “but I have my most loyal and beloved yaksha with me.”

Before he could stop himself, Xiao burst into tears. Just like he had been struggling to endure, his god had also been suffering. But he relied on Xiao, and yet Xiao had tried to take that away from him. Archons, he really was such a troublemaker. He finally realized that their reliance on one another was mutual. And for some reason, that was a great relief. He thought no one would ever understand him like his fellow yaksha did, but he was wrong.

Rex Lapis hummed softly and stroked his last remaining yaksha’s hair, just like Bonanus used to do. Xiao only cried harder. The last few millennia had been full of agonizing pain and loss, but if it was for Rex Lapis’s sake, Xiao could live for a few millennia more.

He finally calmed down after a while, and the god pulled away with a smile. “Better?” he asked.

Xiao nodded as Rex Lapis wiped the remains of his tears.

“Good. I also brought something.” The Archon walked over to the lone desk in the room and picked up a plate of food that Xiao had failed to notice earlier.

As it got closer, he realized that it was almond tofu. How did his god know that his cravings had returned? There was a lone candle sticking out of the top of the dessert, and Rex Lapis promptly lit it before handing the plate over to Xiao.

“Eat this, and if you’re still hungry, I’ll let you have a little taste of my dreams tonight,” he said with a smile, as if he wasn’t placing his entire trust in Xiao’s hands. As if he hadn’t been doing that for centuries now.

Xiao looked up at him with shining eyes, appearing uncharacteristically soft despite the dirt and grime that covered him. The Archon made a mental note to give the adeptus a bath after he was done eating.

“Thank you, My Lord,” Xiao said, bowing deeply.

“Just Zhongli is fine,” the man replied with a chuckle. “Happy Birthday, Xiao.”

The yaksha smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candle.

[sugarmapl]

bubble (cytham)

another repost from ao3 while the site is down!!

Summary:

Someone makes a pass at the General Mahamatra. Alhaitham doesn’t know why it bothers him more than it should.

{Fluff and humor, feelings realization - rated T}

—

One comment was enough to make Alhaitham annoyed. Two was enough to severely grate on his nerves. By the third comment, Alhaitham had enough.

The evening had started innocently enough. Alhaitham was meeting his friends(?), colleagues(?), acquaintances(?), at their usual after-work hangout spot. How exactly this had come to be routine for them, he had no idea. Though he’s sure Kaveh was behind it.

Regardless, he had gotten to the bar slightly earlier than the others for a change. Typically, his work as Acting Grand Sage kept him at the Akademiya until the late hours of the night, and he was usually the last of their little group to arrive. Cyno was often similar, his job as the General Mahamatra granting him little down time.

However, the General had actually taken a rare day off, so he arrived not long after Alhaitham. The two of them sat at their usual table while waiting for Kaveh and Tighnari to show up. The forest ranger had to come all the way from Avidya Forest, and who knows what Kaveh was up to at this hour. Not to mention the architect had a terrible sense of time, often disrupting Alhaitham in the middle of the night with his senseless construction projects.

And so, Alhaitham and Cyno sat in relative silence for a while. Rather than being awkward, it was actually quite comfortable. Personally, Alhaitham preferred the quiet to idle chit-chat, and Cyno appeared to be much of the same mind. At the moment, the General was shuffling through his Genius Invocation TCG deck, likely preparing to play a few rounds once the others arrived.

Alhaitham merely read a book that he had brought with him for these exact kinds of situations. It was a rather interesting in-depth analysis of puzzle-based pressure mechanisms and how they related to the ancient runes of the desert. It was penned by a respected Akademiya scholar by the name of Faruzan, and Alhaitham had to admit that her work was indeed intriguing.

However intriguing it might have been, though, it didn’t stop Alhaitham from glancing up to catch a glimpse of the General Mahamatra every few moments. Normally, he didn’t consider himself someone who was focused on outward appearances, but today seemed to be the exception.

Since the General Mahamatra refrained from working that day, he was dressed a bit more casually than how one might be used to seeing him. Cyno’s typical outfit was covered by his signature black cloak, and his headpiece was noticeably absent. In fact, the General had his long, white hair tied up into a ponytail, but his messy, short bangs still loosely framed his face. It was… pretty.

He likely wore that particular hairstyle because of the harsh heat that had battered Sumeru that day. Alhaitham wondered if he wore it that way often when he was home alone after work. Due to his hair being tied up, even more emphasis was placed upon the black choker creeping out from under Cyno’s cloak, wrapped deliciously tight around his smooth, tanned neck.

Alhaitham once again found his gaze lingering there for a bit too long. He quickly snapped out of it, clearing his throat and turning back to his book. Cyno continued to admire his cards, quite proud of the deck he had come up with, completely oblivious to the various stares he was getting. It seemed the General’s current appearance had peaked more than just Alhaitham’s interest. That’s when they heard the first remark.

“Hey sweetheart, can I buy you a drink?” a man called from his seat at the bartop.

Immediately, Alhaitham felt his mood shift for the worse. This guy really had the nerve to refer to the General Mahamatra with such a condescending term? Although, it was unlikely this man knew Cyno’s true identity, but still. Alhaitham wasn’t the most well-versed in social situations, but wasn’t calling out to someone in that way at least considered rude?

Cyno, on the other hand, didn’t appear to realize that he was the one being addressed at all initially. He was so focused on his cards that it took him a moment before he looked up in confusion. The guy at the bar was smiling at him, but the sleaziness of the offer was written all over his face. Once he understood what had happened, it only took Cyno a second to utter a quick “No thanks.” before turning back to his deck.

The man seemed put-off by the blunt rejection, frowning slightly but otherwise saying nothing. Alhaitham was even more displeased. He shouldn’t be bothered by such a trivial thing. Cyno himself wasn’t even worked up about it, so why did it annoy Alhaitham so much? Whatever. If Cyno was going to be polite and unbothered about it, he supposed he would let it go for now as well.

He turned back to his book, and the comfortable silence from before overtook their table. It was nice, being in their own little bubble like this. Too bad it was popped once again not much later. Apparently, the guy had yet to take the hint, and after stewing in the rejection for a bit, decided to try again.

“Come on, princess, don’t be such a killjoy. Join me for a drink, and I promise I can show you a good time.”

Cyno sighed with mild irritation, but otherwise remained calm. He put his cards down before turning to face the man fully.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough. I have no intention of joining you, so you may continue to enjoy the evening alone,” he responded before turning away again.

Even when dealing with such a rude dickhead, the General Mahamatra had remained calm and composed. Alhaitham, on the other hand, was internally seething, though he wasn’t sure why. The grip on his book was getting tighter and tighter, the pages wrinkling slightly under his fingers. The guy should’ve been getting under Cyno’s skin, not Alhaitham’s. Besides, it wasn’t like the General couldn’t handle himself. But every time the man opened his mouth, it made the scribe’s blood boil.

It seemed that the man at the bar was also unhappy, though for an entirely different reason. He had just been rejected not once, but twice, and pretty publicly at that. Not to mention, Cyno’s last response had included a little dig at the man, which likely bruised the guy’s ego. In retaliation, the man began turning to the patrons beside him and complaining loudly.

“Stuck up bitch. Thinks just ‘cause he’s got a pretty face, he’s hot shit. Pffft. I can find garbage like him on any street corner, probably with a tighter hole, too. Bet his is all worn out, damn slut.”

Alhaitham had to snap his book shut to keep from tearing out the pages. Or worse, hurling it at the guy’s head. Cyno was just sitting there like he hadn’t heard a thing, though there’s no way he missed it with the way the man was practically yelling. The scribe was never one to resort to violence, but even he was at his breaking point. Clearly, the civilized way wasn’t working.

“You’re not going to do anything?” Alhaitham couldn’t help but ask.

It was unlike him to get so emotional, and it was clearly seeping into his voice the way it came out strained. Thankfully, Cyno didn’t comment on it, instead thinking about his question seriously.

“What could I do? He’s probably drunk,” he answered.

“Inebriation is hardly an excuse for causing a commotion in public,” Alhaitham countered bitterly.

“True, but it would also be quite unbecoming of the General Mahamatra to engage in a petty bar fight,” Cyno reasoned.

“Petty? I would hardly call the insults being hurled your way a petty reason,” the other scoffed.

Cyno didn’t say anything for a moment, staring at Alhaitham with such intensity it made the scribe a little uneasy. His deep crimson eyes were probing his expression for something, and Alhaitham wondered what kind of face he must be making to warrant this level of attention.

“Does it bother you?” Cyno finally asked.

“Of course.”

Alhaitham had answered without thinking, the response slipping past his lips before he had time to catch it. Cyno latched onto it quickly, perking up slightly despite the horrible man still shouting disgusting things about him in the background.

“Why?”

The Acting Grand Sage wasn’t sure how to respond to that, because he didn’t even know the answer himself. Why did he care so much? Obviously, to an outsider, the pair could be considered friends, but Alhaitham had never referred to them as such. In fact, he often vehemently denied it during their usual meetups.

He had no need for friends. They only brought distractions, and clutter, and noise, if Kaveh was anything to go by. Did he feel that he and Cyno were now friends? Had they somehow developed their relationship to that point without Alhaitham realizing? No, the word “friends” didn’t sound quite right after all.

Though, it was true that he never really found himself becoming annoyed with Cyno the way he would with the others. He didn’t mind bumping into the General Mahamatra at the Akademiya, either. He also didn’t mind spending time with Cyno despite his preference for solitude, like the way they had been sitting in comfortable silence up until it was disrupted by outside forces. They were both quiet, and he enjoyed simply basking in the other’s presence while they each did their own thing. Plus, the General Mahamatra wasn't bad to look at…

Wait…

There’s no way. How had he not realized something so obvious sooner? Was Alhaitham so out of touch with his own feelings that he had allowed something as juvenile as a crush to sneak up on him? Oh no, this was bad. It had already evolved way past familiar territory. This was uncharted waters now. Since when had indifference towards Cyno grown into like, and then into caring? He didn’t even dare to think beyond that.

Subconsciously, he felt his face heat up just a tiny bit at the realization before he quickly schooled his expression. Cyno had been staring at him all the while, and Alhaitham noticed there was now a slight smirk where there was once neutrality. Still, Alhaitham being Alhaitham, he couldn’t make the conclusion of his musings obvious.

“I just think that it’s grating on the ears to listen to such idiocy. He should count himself lucky that the Akademiya does not consider stupidity a crime,” he finally answered.

“Right,” Cyno agreed, still smirking. “Though it is a shame, I am actually quite thirsty. Too bad no one less stupid has offered me a drink.”

Alhaitham cleared his throat slightly before standing up. “I was actually about to fetch myself something anyway. I suppose I could grab you one as well, if you’d like.”

“How generous. I’ll have to accept.”

Alhaitham went to grab them some drinks from the bar. However, as he ordered, he leaned in a little bit closer to whisper something to the barkeep, who nodded. Soon after, some matra arrived and quickly escorted the drunken man out of the bar for “disturbing the peace”. Cyno shot Alhaitham a knowing look from across the table, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he took a long sip out of the drink that was bought for him by the scribe.

The two fell back into their comfortable bubble. Only this time, they were engaged in a game of Genius Invocation TCG. Though hardly any words were exchanged, the General Mahamatra and the Acting Grand Sage were content. If they greatly enjoyed the time together before their other two companions arrived, no one had to know.

[sugarmapl]

bet on it (cytham)

reposting this on here for anyone who wants to read it while ao3 is down :3

Summary:

Some new recruits within the matra have come up with an interesting wager. Whoever is the first to bed the intimidating and fearsome General Mahamatra wins. Little do they know that they lost the bet before it had even begun…

{fluff and humor - rated M}

—

After the old sages were overthrown, the Akademiya itself needed a good thorough cleansing. Many of their old spies and loyal devotees needed to be weeded out in order to move forward. Cyno and Alhaitham worked closely together on that very task. Within the first few weeks of the new regime, much of the Akademiya staff had been replaced.

That included the matra, which Cyno was in charge of. He was a bit disappointed with how many of his subordinates were secretly loyal to Azar and the other old sages. It was a painstaking task sorting through them all, but eventually, he managed to rummage up a good number of new recruits to replace them. Cyno left his most trusted subordinate, Nayab, to train the newbies.

Although many of the newcomers joined the matra out of a sense of duty and justice, there were still a few that joined simply because they weren’t cut out for the rigorous academic life. The Akademiya could be extremely mentally draining, and becoming a matra was a nice way of still becoming employed by the Akademiya while enjoying greatly reduced mental strain. That being said, some of the recruits who fell under that category were not the most… properly motivated.

Unfortunately, Cyno and the other, more experienced matra couldn’t afford to be picky at the moment. They were in desperate need of the numbers since taking significant losses in the recent power struggle, so most new recruits with a fairly spotless record were accepted. Cyno figured he would just have Nayab whip them into shape and get their priorities straight.

How could he have predicted the depths of their degeneracy? The General Mahamatra was an extremely busy man, especially with the rebuilding of Sumeru’s political landscape. He hardly had time to interact with the new recruits at all. As a result, they only saw him sparingly here and there, and his reputation as a cold and intimidating senior returned in full force.

With the previous matra, and the ones who had been there a long time still knew this, Cyno had taken great pains to shed his intimidating aura by telling jokes or talking at length about Genius Invocation TCG. He had put in a lot of effort to break that ice and make the other matra feel more comfortable around him. But since there were so many newcomers, and he hardly had the time to try out these ice-breaking methods with them, Cyno felt like he was back to square one.

He complained about this very subject one day to Alhaitham as the two were meeting in the scribe’s office. “I heard all the new recruits find me difficult to approach. I wish I had more time to bond with them so that they weren’t afraid to ask questions or report back to me.”

“As long as they do their jobs, what does it matter what they think of you?” Alhaitham replied, not even pausing as he scanned over a document in his hands.

His work as Acting Grand Sage had also been tiring him out and leaving him little time to get to know the new Akademiya employees. Unlike Cyno, however, Alhaitham preferred it that way. He saw no point in forming personal connections at work. He was only concerned with clocking in, getting his work done, and clocking out. And maybe coming up with excuses to see the General Mahamatra in his office a little more frequently during the day, but nobody had to know about the last part.

“I want to be someone they can look up to. A role model of justice,” Cyno explained. “But it’s difficult to do that if you’re not well-liked.”

Alhaitham finally stopped what he was doing to glance up at the other. Cyno was perched on the edge of the scribe’s desk, seeming especially small as he swung his legs back and forth absentmindedly. Cyno was holding a document of his own, though he wasn’t even pretending to read over it anymore, turning to meet Alhaitham’s eyes.

“You put too much merit into other people’s opinions,” the scribe told him flatly.

Cyno rolled his eyes. “I forgot who I was talking to.”

Alhaitham stood up, circling the desk until he was in front of Cyno. “Besides,” he said, cupping the smaller’s cheek, “I already like you plenty enough.” With that, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the General’s lips, which Cyno reciprocated gratefully.

“That was smooth,” Cyno said after pulling away. “But I still would prefer the matras’ opinions of me to be a little bit better.”

“Fair enough,” the scribe relented. “Maybe you can spend more time with them when you get back.”

The General Mahamatra hopped off the edge of the desk, taking slow steps towards the exit. “I should get going for the desert mission now. I will probably return tomorrow or the day after, at the latest.”

“I look forward to it,” Alhaitham replied with a wink, and then Cyno was gone.

Meanwhile, Nayab was busy with the new recruits. They were having an orientation of sorts where he handed out the manuals and uniforms, and was just going over some of the matra duties when someone raised their hand.

“Yes? Question?”

“What’s the General Mahamatra like?” the recruit asked.

Some of the matra who had clearly been tuning out earlier suddenly sat up with renewed interest at the mention of the General Mahamatra. Many of them had yet to see or meet Cyno. Nayab had almost expected this, though he really wished they’d saved their questions for the end. Still, he saw no harm in answering it now.

Cyno was already somewhat of an infamous figure in Sumeru, but after rescuing the Dendro Archon and overthrowing the previous Akademiya hierarchy, he had become even more so, his renown soaring to unbelievable heights. Many saw him as a hero, but tales of his strength were often accompanied by over-exaggerated descriptions of his appearance or demeanor.

“Lord Cyno is a fantastic leader. He is the very pinnacle of justice, and he is what all of us matra strive to be like,” Nayab told them honestly.

“But what is he like? How’s his personality?” the recruit asked again, not satisfied.

“Yeah, is he really as scary and intimidating as people say?” someone else chimed in.

“Of course not,” Nayab rushed to explain. He hated when people misunderstood Cyno’s character. “He is extremely kind. Though he may seem a little tough on the outside, he has a generous heart and cares deeply for each of his subordinates.”

The crowd of young matra seemed fascinated by that response, eager to know more. They continued pressing Nayab for information, much to his dismay.

“What about his appearance?”

“I heard he was six feet tall and super jacked.”

“Can he really lift a sumpter beast with one hand?”

“Is it true he walks around half-naked?”

Nayab struggled to keep up with their questioning, tackling their curiosity one at a time.

“He is actually rather on the small side… Uhhh he is very strong, but I wouldn’t say jacked, more like lean… I wouldn’t be surprised if he could really do that…. The General Mahamatra does have an unusual choice of clothing, so he may seem a bit underdressed at times…”

Finally having enough, Nayab dismissed the recruits to continue their training tomorrow. He seriously needed a break. He appreciated the display of trust, but why did Lord Cyno leave him of all people in charge!?

That night, some of the new matra gathered at a tavern to blow off steam. They huddled around a small table, leaning in close as they discussed in hushed voices what they had learned that day.

“Do you think it’s really true? The General Mahamatra is actually tiny?” one of them asked his friends in disbelief.

“All the older matra said the same thing, so it must be,” another one answered.

“I also heard from one of my upperclassmen that he’s, like, super pretty.”

“What? No way!”

“Seriously! And some other senior scholars said the same thing!”

“Hmmm interesting,” the one at the head of the table hummed before breaking out into a smirk. “Fellas, I have an idea.”

They all turned to him with their full attention. He must have been the leader of the little pack.

“The training has been super boring so far, so whaddya say we spice things up with a little wager?”

“A wager? What kind?” the one who originally spoke first asked, though it was clear his interest was peaked.

In all honesty, the first few days of matra training always revolved around rules and regulations. While it wasn’t the most exciting of topics to discuss, it was very important in assuring the matra conducted themselves professionally and within Akademiya guidelines. Still, for recruits who were too dumb to become Akademiya scholars, they felt nothing but pent up frustration towards long lectures and required readings.

“How about we bet our first months’ salaries?” the leader proposed.

“On what?”

“Whoever bangs the General Mahamatra first wins,” he said with a sleazy grin.

“You’re crazy!” the others laughed. “Are you that desperate to get laid?”

The leader laughed along with them, but didn’t drop the idea. “And you’re not? Besides, think about the bragging rights you would have if you actually pulled it off. The hero of the Akademiya, the brave and fearless General Mahamatra, pillar of Sumeru, spreading his legs for you.”

That actually shut the others at the table up, some even clearing their throats and sitting up a little straighter.

“You’re serious?” one asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Then… count me in.”

“Me too.”

“Me too!”

One by one, the new recruits agreed to the obscene wager. They hadn’t even seen the General Mahamatra’s face with their own eyes yet, but it was enough to stoke their competitive spirits and stave off boredom for the meantime. They laughed over the topic over a few more rounds of drinks, discussing all the ways they were going to lure Cyno to their beds. All the while, they were completely oblivious to the man at the bar who was eavesdropping on their every word.

Alhaitham sighed. He only wanted to enjoy a nice post-work glass of wine, but now he also had to listen to those idiots talk about all the ways they planned to fuck his boyfriend. Of course, he knew it was never going to happen. Cyno would never go for such a thing, and he would certainly never cheat on Alhaitham.

The scribe’s only worry was that Cyno could be a bit… obtuse at times. He would often mistake flirting as friendly banter, and the scribe didn’t want Cyno’s inherent gentle nature taken advantage of or going to those matras’ heads. He would just have to keep an extra close eye on him once he got back.

The next day, Cyno returned late afternoon as promised. He looked exhausted as he trudged through the Akademiya, no doubt having spent the better part of the past day battling Eremites in the desert. His body was slightly battered and bruised, and he had the faintest of bags under his eyes. The tiredness actually softened his usually stern features, only making him appear all the more vulnerable. That was when the first of the matra decided to strike.

“Lord Cyno!” they called as they jogged up to him. The young recruit had pale blonde hair and freckled skin. He was not bad to look at at all and he knew it, which gave him an unnecessary ego boost.

He had to admit, when he saw Cyno enter the Akademiya, the General Mahamatra surpassed his expectations. Of course, he’d heard the rumors that the other was small, but he would never have guessed just how cute Cyno really was. He had beautiful long white hair and stunning red-tinted eyes. Even beat up, he couldn’t help but think the other was extremely pretty. Seeing the General in person only served to increase the young matra’s motivation to win the bet.

“Welcome back!” he continued, tone friendly. “Are you alright?”

Cyno looked at him confused for a moment before seeming to realize who he was. “You’re one of the new recruits, correct? I’m quite fine. I’m sorry to meet you in such a state,” Cyno apologized, extending his hand to shake.

The young matra excitedly took it, shaking it with enthusiasm. It seemed that Nayab was right. Cyno’s true nature was rather polite and pleasant. In that case, the bet would be a piece of cake.

“Believe me, you still look incredible,” he said with a flirty smile.

The General Mahamatra paused awkwardly, retreating his hand from the uncomfortably long handshake. There was no way the kid meant it like that, right? Cyno was probably just misunderstanding him. The other was being friendly, and it gave Cyno a chance to get closer to his new subordinates. Still, all he could muster up in response was, “Oh, uh, thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, though? Do you need help with anything? I can assist you!”

Cyno felt bad. The kid seemed so eager to please, he probably just looked up to Cyno and wanted to become a good matra. Cyno didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was just going to report back to (and possibly make out with) the Acting Grand Sage. He was about to make up something for the other to help him with so that they could bond when said Acting Grand Sage seemed to pop up out of nowhere.

“I-”

“General Mahamatra, you’re back,” Alhaitham said calmly. He strode up confidently, addressing Cyno while also completely ignoring the other matra that was standing there.

“Acting Grand Sage. Yes, I just got back,” Cyno replied, seeming to brighten up a bit.

“Excellent. I am eagerly awaiting your report. Let’s head back to my office together, shall we?” the scribe asked. Before waiting for a response, he gently circled his arm around Cyno’s shoulders and guided him away toward the elevator.

The young matra recruit stood there frozen in momentary shock. Did he just get cockblocked by the Acting Grand Sage?

The next morning, Cyno was in the library doing some research into a case he was working on. One of the new matra happened to be in there studying his manual, delighted at the appearance of the General Mahamatra. Cyno stopped in front of a particular bookshelf and began scanning the titles in search of something. The matra took the opportunity to spring into action.

“General Mahamatra, I hope I’m not bothering you,” he said as he approached.

The matra recruit was confident in his looks, much like his friend. Though, while his peer had more of the boy-next-door vibe, he was more of a tall, dark, and handsome type. He was also much taller than Cyno, and so he was sure that he had the bet in the bag.

“I’m one of the recently recruited matra, so I just wanted to introduce myself.” As he spoke, he gave a slight bow. Cyno seemed surprised at the action before waving it off.

“No need to be so formal. I’ve been meaning to get to know all the recruits better anyway,” the Mahamatra assured him with a smile.

The young recruit felt his heart skip a beat. “Great! If that’s the case, would you like to join me for some coffee?”

Cyno looked slightly apologetic. “Unfortunately, I am a bit too busy at the moment. Perhaps in the near future?” he suggested instead.

“Absolutely!”

The entire time they spoke, Cyno had never paused in his scanning of the bookcase. Finally, it seemed he found what he was looking for, but he frowned with his neck craned up. The book he needed just so happened to be on the top shelf. He reached for it half-heartedly, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to get it with his height.

The young matra was elated. It was like fate had given him the ultimate chance to make a move on the General Mahamatra. He would be his knight in shining armor, pressing close to reach the book and make Cyno’s heart flutter. Then, it was only a matter of time. Smiling to himself, the matra moved to carry out his plan, extending his arm and-

A blur of black and green suddenly appeared in a flash. A tall, handsome, silver-haired man crowded in close to Cyno and retrieved the desired book before stepping back and handing it to the tiny general. Cyno looked slightly flustered by the action, and the young matra quietly cursed the man in his head.

“Alhaitham? What are you doing here?” Cyno asked.

“I came to see what was taking you so long. We have a morning meeting, remember?” the scribe reminded him.

Wait a minute, Alhaitham!? The matra stared in awe at the man in front of him who was, allegedly, the Acting Grand Sage. He could be upset at anyone else interrupting him, but if it was Alhaitham, then it was probably for something important. But… why the hell was the guy totally ignoring him altogether!? He acted like the matra wasn’t even there! In the blink of an eye, the Acting Grand Sage had whisked the General Mahamatra away.

That same day, another incident occurred. The leader of the young recruits had come up with a plan. He heard from the other matra and older scholars that the General Mahamatra was absolutely obsessed with Genius Invocation TCG. And so, the matra had spent all of the night before putting together an impressive deck in order to challenge Cyno to a duel.

Using a shared interest, he would grow close to the General Mahamatra before eventually taking him to bed. Maybe he could even speed up the process by betting with the General on a round of the card game. The rumor was that Cyno couldn’t say no to Genius Invocation TCG, after all. And if the matra happened to cheat by hiding a few cards up his sleeve, no one would have to know.

He was all ready to set the plan into motion. He would bump into Cyno in the hallway at the Akademiya, thus spilling his TCG cards ‘by accident’. Then, after peaking Cyno’s interest, he would challenge him to a duel during which the matra would seduce the unsuspecting General. It was the perfect plan, and he expected to have the General spreading his legs by nightfall.

The matra had studied Cyno’s schedule, and knew that the other usually had a meeting with the Acting Grand Sage at that time. Then, Cyno would exit down the same hallway on the way back to his own office. The matra hid around the corner in said hallway, waiting for the tell-tale sound of Cyno’s footsteps. They were easy to identify since the General Mahamatra was almost always barefoot.

He steeled himself, then flung around the corner, only to smack into what felt like a brick wall. He hit the ground hard, spilling his TCG cards all over the marble floors. Oh well, not exactly to plan, but he could still make it work. He glanced up and saw the muscled figure of the Acting Grand Sage looming over him, looking down with an unphased expression.

The General Mahamatra was at his side, at least having the decency to look slightly concerned. “Are you alright?” Cyno asked.

No, he was definitely not alright. Why was the Acting Grand Sage built like a freight train!? He felt like he just got run over, but he had to play it off in order for the plan to work.

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” the young matra said, trying to sound guilty.

Cyno smiled at him. “It’s okay, just be careful next time,” he said gently.

Alhaitham looked unamused. “Yes, rushing around the Akademiya halls recklessly is unbecoming of a matra. If I were anyone else, they might have gotten hurt.”

What a fucking asshole! If anyone was hurt here, it was the matra he just bowled over! But the young recruit plastered on a fake smile, moving to scrape up his scattered cards off the floor. “Of course! I’m so sorry, Acting Grand Sage,” he apologized again through gritted teeth.

“Do you need help?” Cyno asked, beginning to bend down. “If you value your cards, you should keep them in a protective case. I can recommend you some-”

However, before Cyno could actually scoop up a card, Alhaitham stuck out an arm to stop him. “Let him clean up his own mess. This is a learning experience for him,” the scribe said coldly. “Let’s go.”

And then, just like that, the Acting Grand Sage and the General Mahamatra were gone. The young matra cursed Alhaitham a thousand times in his head as he picked up the last of his deck and stomped off. His fool-proof plan had been ruined.

That night, the group of matra recruits reconvened at the tavern. After talking about their various experiences, they all came to the same conclusion: they had all been cockblocked by Alhaitham. While frustrated, the leader was determined to not give up on the bet, and his passionate enthusiasm soon inspired the others. They all planned to double down on their efforts starting the following day.

A week passed by that way. Each day, the young matra recruits would do their best at attempting to seduce the General Mahamatra. But each time, their efforts were thwarted by the Acting Grand Sage. Even when the blasted scribe was busy, Cyno seemed to be assigned to some mission or another where no one would be able to see or find him. Cyno himself seemed completely oblivious to every pass at him whatsoever.

It was growing increasingly frustrating, but the matra were stubbornly determined. They were convinced that they just needed to get the General alone and he would break. Finally, on Friday, it seemed that the bet was over. Cyno came into work wearing much more clothes than usual, a black cloak covering much of his visible skin. All of the matras’ attention immediately honed in on the General Mahamatra’s neck, where the traces of a love bite could be seen just barely peeking out of his choker. Cyno was also walking with a slight limp.

Immediately, they knew the bet was over. Someone had won, now they just needed to find out who. They crowded into a secluded corner in the House of Daena, away from prying eyes and ears. Once they all had gathered, the leader clapped once to draw their attention.

“All right, fess up. Who did it?”

Silence. The matra recruits looked around at each other with accusatory glances.

“C’mon it’s obvious that somebody won the bet. He clearly got fucked last night. Don’t you wanna claim your prize?” he prodded the group.

Still, no one confessed.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t me either.”

“Nope.”

Everyone’s analytical gazes turned into ones of confusion. Why would the winner not want to own up to such a feat? Unless… it was none of them.

A sudden, slow clapping startled them as someone rounded the large pillar they were standing next to. None other than the Acting Grand Sage emerged, looking faintly amused for the first time. The matra all stood there in shock and slight fear, not knowing what to say. How would they even begin to explain themselves? Before anyone could speak up, he beat them to it.

“So, I believe you all owe me your first month’s wages, correct?”

[sugarmapl]

alright fuck it since ao3 has been down all day i will now be taking short prompts/requests and do as many as i am able to

my ask box is open and you can even send in requests anonymously if you’d like

i can’t guarantee i’ll get to them all but i will do my best

i might also repost some of my ao3 works on here if anyone wants to read them again or for the first time in the meantime

[sugarmapl]

just found out ao3 is still down…

i was really hoping it would be fixed by now T.T