#━━ ˟ ⊰ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧. // * answered.

[suiyuun]

@supportingfire: he says nothing about the state of the man when he finally returns in the dead of night: not the blood on his once pristine white suit, nor the lack of shine in lord's eyes. instead, thoma takes ayato's face in his hands and murmurs, "let's take a warm bath."

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐣𝐨𝐛   𝐢𝐬   𝐧𝐨𝐭   𝐚𝐧   𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲   𝐨𝐧𝐞.   𝐢𝐭   never   had   been,   really.   perhaps   it   was   right   to   assume   so   -   with   the   silver   spoon   that   oft   adorned   the   mouth   of   men   such   as   he,   but   the   power   that   ayato   wielded   did   not   come   without   a   price,   and   the   price   too   often   was   bloodshed.   he   was   not   a   man   yet   willing   to   delegate   all   his   dirty   work   to   the   shuumatsuban,   or   even   his   retainers.   too   often,   the   kamisato   head's   own   blade   was   all   that   would   properly   do   the   work   -   and   too   often   he   would   come   home,   his   sword   clean,   but   his   robes   splattered   in   blood.   the   crimson   always   was   stark   upon   white,   and   too   often   ruined   whatever   he   wore   -   despite   thoma's   best   efforts.

ㅤㅤㅤhe   could   only   assume   tonight   would   be   one   of   those   nights   once   more.   

ㅤㅤㅤdullness   permeates   normally   mercurial   features,   and   he   trudges   through   the   home   as   if   his   legs   are   made   of   lead.   the   hour   is   late,   the   staff   resting   except   of   course   -   thoma,   always   thoma.   ayato   cannot   even   find   it   in   himself   to   be   verbally   grateful,   as   he   meets   his   retainer   halfway   to   his   chambers,   as   the   muted   tone   of   his   gaze   locks   with   warm   verdant.   beautiful   features,   always   so   resplendent,   split   in   exhaustion   under   the   weight   of   thoma's   warm,   warm   touch.   for   a   moment,   he   lets   his   eyes   shut,   long   lashes   fluttering   upon   his   pale   countenance,   and   then   he   sighs.   

ㅤㅤㅤhands   raise,   unbloodied   from   washing   with   a   bit   of   his   own   hydro,   and   curl   delicately   about   the   housekeeper's   wrists.   periwinkle   revealed   to   the   world   again,   the   yashiro   commissioner   lets   a   fracture   of   vulnerability   show   upon   that   mask,   before   he   gives   his   lover   the   most   wane   of   smiles.   ❝   ⸻ please,   thoma.   ❞

[suiyuun]

sir why are you fine wet and dry this is a CRIME

" exceptional bone structure and a rigorous skin care routine. but it's mostly in the eyelashes and mole. "

[suiyuun]

@zhongshen: the consultant had spared no expense in his gift for the commissioner , funneling spare wages into his earnest delivery . a team of inazuman sailors hauls his gift toward the high residence , a plethora of liyuen delights : spices , teas , dried fruits , incense , silks , & more . at the head of them , one translator , delivering his message to the head of the family . thanking him for attending this year's lantern rite , & asking him to accept these tokens of liyue to recall the nation by . though , she does not read aloud the missive tucked within reams of silk , addressed to the commissioner , which contacts red - letter secrets of their more private matters . he had the sense to keep such things between them alone .

he   is   a   man   used   to   being   showered   in   splendor   -   used   to   the   finest   gifts   from   callers   and   suitors   and   political   rivals/allies   all   at   once.   ayato   is   no   stranger   to   niceties   from   foreign   lands   -   but   he   is   certainly   not   quite   prepared   for   the   near   ships   hauls   worth   of   goods   bestowed   upon   him   by   liyue's   enigmatic   funeral   parlor   consultant.   even   he   must   confess   that   the   sheer   volume   and   thoughtfulness   in   each   selection   is   enough   to   warm   the   genuinely   guarded   vestiges   of   his   heart.   it's   hard,   terribly   hard,   to   not   let   the   warmth   write   it's   way   across   handsome   features   -   not   as   digits   dip   along   bolts   of   flawless   blue   silks.   he   preferred   the   liyuen   makes   of   the   fabric   to   inazuma's   own   (the   fibers   were   stronger,   less   likely   to   tear   with   his   movements),   which   was   something   he'd   mentioned   to   zhongli   in   passing   one   night   -   nestled   warm   upon   his   chest   and   playing   with   the   fabric   of   gilded   sheets...

had   he   remembered   such   a   little   thing?

"   thank   you.   "   polite   decorum   to   the   translator,   a   smile   on   his   features,   and   ayato   sends   her   away   with   a   bit   of   food   for   the   road   before   retreating   to   his   own   quarters.   servants   bring   in   a   few   of   the   selected   goods   (he'd   look   through   the   rest   tomorrow),   and   he's   quick   to   snatch   up   the   additional   missive   before   another   could   grab   it   -   only   offering   his   employees   the   vaguest   of   smiles   before   banishing   them   away   for   the   night.   

later,   when   the   lanterns   burn   low   and   he's   retired   to   the   warm   comfort   of   his   futon,   ayato   cracks   open   the   private   letter.   he   reads   it   with   baited   breath,   drinking   in   each   word   of   zhongli's   carefully   penned   memories   of   their   encounters   as   if   he   hadn't   lived   them,   and   allowing   each   thought   to   rewrite   itself   fresh   in   his   mind.   by   the   time   he's   made   it   through   the   page   -   ayato   is   left   breathless   and   wanting,   visions   of   amber   hues   and   mountain   hewn   flesh   beneath   his   touch   dancing   upon   his   memories.   a   hand   slides   south   then,   one   he   pictures   to   be   laced   with   gold   and   the   power   of   geo   as   opposed   to   his   own,   and   when   ayato   parts   his   robe   to   feast   upon   his   memories   of   their   trysts   he   thinks   that   yes   -   the   first   thing   he'll   do   in   the   morning   is   invite   zhongli   to   inazuma   posthaste.   an   extended   stay   was   in   order.

[suiyuun]

@capitaneus: he's been stood outside the front gates like a spectre for some time now . . . it's impossible to tell from the way he stares (?) at the commissioner with a vacant face, but he'd love some tea.

a   solid   15   minutes   he's   been   there,   staring   up   at   the   harbinger   with   a   perfectly   schooled   countenance   -   regal   features   devoid   of   much   expression   apart   from   unquenchable   wariness.   one   could   say   that   was   a   natural   response,   given   the   1st   of   the   fatui   harbingers   was   loitering   on   his   lawn,   and   it   was   probably   startling   that   ayato   had   not   yet   descended   further   into   madness   -   or   at   least   drawn   his   blade   in   response   but.   

                                                              he   knew   when   he   was   outmatched.

what   did   the   captain   want   anyway?   was   this   about   the   pyro   assassin   corpse   he'd   shipped   back   to   snezhnaya   in   pieces   last   month?   it   was   only   a   matter   of   time   until   one   of   them   came   knocking,   he   supposed.   ayato   did   have   a   penchant   for...   causing   problems.

                                                                                         still,   the   captain?

the   lord   commissioner   clears   his   throat,   tugging   lightly   at   the   lapels   of   his   jacket.   he   regards   the   other   through   the   fringe   of   thick   lashes   then,   the   indigo   of   his   eyes   suddenly   glimmering   with   carefully   crafted   amusement.   

"   would   you   like   to   stay   for   dinner,   lord   harbinger?   "

[suiyuun]

give me your hand so that i may hold it in mine until the end of time.

that's so lewd. let's do it.

[suiyuun]

pls dont say fuck infront of me im PG13 only and that sounds like a bad word.

[suiyuun]

@supportingfire asked: your tits look heavy my lord mind if i hold them for you

there   is   the   unmuted   slurp   of   milk   tea,   coupled   with   the   sweaty   and   shirtless   commissioner's   satisfied   sigh   as   he   puts   away   his   training   sword.   

"   very   well,   thoma.   you   may.   "

[suiyuun]

@ksharhrewar: would ayato care for a distraction in the form of a chatty blonde

is kaveh going to complain about alhaitham the whole time?

either way the answer is yes.

[suiyuun]

@ecleips: " i have something for you to sign. " the meticulous way kaeya often went about stomping his metaphorical foot amidst inazuma's political grounds often meant bypassing certain protocols - protocols that none other than his esteemed husband could break for him. and so kaeya's habit of sweet talking him into a signature or two had become the norm. kaeya would waltz in ( more often than not donned in something alluring, or particularly pursuasive ) seat himself in ayato's lap for a brief respite of kisses and sweet nothings, lips to his neck, sensuous hand movements guiding the commissioner's hand over to some unknown document. it just so happened that today's contracts were divorce papers. " right there for me, baby. " he purred.

time   spent   in   the   clutches   of   paperwork   and   the   utter   pedantic   nonsense   that   came   with   his   position   as   the   yashiro   commissioner   is   not   so   exciting.   it   is   perhaps,   ayato's   least   favorite   part   of   his   day   -   when   he's   in   residence   proper   -   and   by   'part   of   the   day,'   it   more   or   less   means   a   solid   ten   hours   devoted   to   his   craft   of   ink   to   documents.   reading,   writing,   solving   potentially   catastrophic   issues   with   the   stroke   of   a   pen   or   brush   (depending   on   the   stationary   of   course)...   all   in   a   days   work   for   the   yashiro   commissioner,   and   it   was   hardly   unordinary   for   such   endeavors   to   be   accented   by   the   appearance   of   his   ever   so   darling   spouse   -   who   was   usually   up   to   absolutely   no   good.

this   time   was   no   different.

in   hindsight,   it   was   perhaps   inadvisable   to   have   whisked   someone   like   kaeya   alberich   into   a   marriage,   but   ayato   would   count   it   as   one   of   his   smartest   political   moves   to   date   -   if   not   his   most   entertaining.   the   only   trouble   was   that   the   cavalry   captain   was...   well,   smarter   than   him   on   the   regular.   ayato   was   a   proud   man,   it   was   true,   but   he   was   not   so   above   it   to   admit   when   he   was   bested   -   and   best   him   often   kaeya   did,   especially   when   it   involved   a   little   too   much   skin   showing   or   the   wayward   brush   of   lips   or   the   way   he   made   that   little   noise   when   ayato   bit   him   just   li-

"   mm-   "   the   commissioner   melts,   baring   his   throat   with   unfettered   eagerness.   one   hand   slides   to   steady   itself   at   kaeya's   hip,   the   other   bracing   on   his   desk   before   it   is   moved   -   pen   in   hand.   ayato's   lashes   flutter,   ice   blue   across   the   warm   tone   of   his   cheeks   and   he   can't   help   but   lick   his   lips,   much   more   interested   in   pushing   his   lover   down,   while   his   own   pelvis   angles   up.   the   pen   twitches   in   hand,   and   he   moves   his   head   just   enough   then   so   that   sweet   azure   might   meet   frosted   lilac   in   a   darkened   gaze.   something   dances   behind   ayato's   eyes   -   something   amused.   something   dangerous.   "   you   know-   "

as   he   speaks,   the   commissioner   moves,   quite   suddenly   upending   them   both   so   that   the   captain   is   instead   sprawled   upon   his   desk,   knocking   askew   countless   documents   and   books,   while   ayato   situates   himself   between   long,   svelte   legs.   "-   usually   i   am   happy   to   adhere   to   all   your   requests,   kaeya.   "   his   hand   has   drawn   to   kaeya's   chest   now,   resting   firmly   on   his   pectorals   as   he   goes   to   take   a   quick   glance   at   the   document   in   question.   for   a   moment,   there   is   stillness   -   but   the   yashiro   commissioner   is   anything   but   angry,   instead,   he   laughs,   soft   and   lilted,   before   drawing   himself   up   and   over   the   elder.   "   but   this?   "

hip   to   hip   again,   and   this   time   ayato   is   ruthless,   bearing   down   his   weight   with   clear   intent.   at   the   same   time,   his   lips   find   kaeya's   jaw,   nipping   oh-so   lightly   at   the   area   before   paying   an   almost   adoring   kiss   to   a   fading   mark   he'd   left   only   a   few   nights   before   near   his   throat.   "   why   would   you-   "   each   word,   a   bell   of   ramped   pleasure,   the   swordsmen   playing   the   body   beneath   him   like   the   well   loved   koto   in   his   chambers.   "   -   want   to   -   "   words   followed   by   kisses,   followed   by   teeth,   the   suckling   of   skin,   the   devotion   of   a   man   with   something   to   prove.   "   leave   me   ?   "

and   then   he's   on   his   knees,   between   those   mile   long   legs,   with   his   nose   pressed   to   an   inner   thigh   and   one   hand   playing   at   the   purchase   of   kaeya's   belt   buckle.   up,   he   looks   at   him,   hues   dark   with   his   lust   and   a   hint   of   possession.   mine,   they   seem   to   say,   but   ayato   is   polite   enough   to   not   voice   it   out   loud...   yet.   "   no   matter,   "   he   breathes   against   fabric,   kissing   up,   up,   and   up,   "   i'll   simply   remind   you   of   one   of   the   many   reasons   you'd   miss   me   should   we   part.   "

[suiyuun]

looking like a bottom.

oh nooooo master diluc you've caught me i'm a bottom for you oh noooooo

[suiyuun]

licking u

moans loudly

he loves himself.

[suiyuun]

You can’t escape the snake 🐍

miles   away   from   sumeru,   a   chill   lances   through   his   person   -   coupled   by   the   distinct   feeling   of   being   watched.   

                                         "   ugh...   "

[suiyuun]

FIRST

pats   him   gently   on   the   head.

                                               "   yes   thoma   you   are   first   in   my   heart.   "

[suiyuun]

valiantly attempting to defend both his toes and his tits from world's most persistent pyro vision holders.

[suiyuun]

@raeso: a hand grasps his chin, leather against the ivory of his cheek an enthralling contrast. diluc tilts ayato’s head back, their eyes meeting, a transitory flicker of yearning stifled. take what you want, he had encouraged with that saccharine lilt of his and thus diluc does. the grip he has is firm and when he kisses the commissioner it’s both demanding and hungry.

a   drag   of   cool   lapis   to   ruby,   the   bright   flush   of   his   pallor   to   the   winery   owner's   personage...   heat   and   water   vapor,   steamed   between   them   on   the   connection   of   thoughts   and   gazes   alone.   yes,   he   thinks,   as   diluc   looks   at   him   like   that.   this   is   what   he   wants,   the   unfettered   warmth   of   the   pyro   vision   user   and   his   all   consuming   passion   that   burns   like   the   same   flame   that   liked   to   destroy   his   clothing   during   their   many,   many   trysts.      take   from   me.   take,   and   take,   and   take   -   he   burns.   he   desires.   he   wants,   and   he   wants,   and   he   wants-

leather   to   flesh,   lips   to   lips,   ayato   fractures   against   him   as   he   always   does.   a   press   of   warm   lips   steals   away   his   worries,   a   brush   of   scarred   and   calloused   hands   vaporizes   them   to   nothing.   he   bends   to   diluc   like   a   tree   in   his   windhewn   city,   long   limbs   wrapping   around   him   and   his   tongue   fighting   for   purchase   in   a   battle   as   familiar   to   them   as   breathing   -   but   one   he   is   so   frequently   fond   of   losing.   kiss   after   kiss   after   kiss,   till   diluc's   hair   is   down   in   his   hands,   his   coat   half   off   and   and   his   vest   nearly   undone   and   ayato   is   nosing   against   his   ear,   murmuring   his   wants   and   pleasures   and   wanton   desires   in   a   mixture   of   common   tongue   and   inazuman.

"   i   missed   you.   "   murmured   on   the   winds   of   what   could   be   described   as   their   inferno   of   ardor   and   infatuation,   passion   dripping   from   each   syllable   -   before   ayato   sinks   his   teeth   into   diluc's   neck   in   claim.