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cno-inbminor · 1 year

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repertum (pt. 2 - final)

summary: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise. // cameos from lumine and nahida // wc: ~15.1k

a/n: well, here it is! many, many thanks to @allsaiint for being my beta once again, especially for this monster. i love her to the ends of this universe. fair warning though, the smut at the end is un-beta’d so you’ll probably come across many grammatical/syntax errors. sorry, in advance.

cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, more angst (but with comfort), 3.4 spoilers, probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags: derogatory/degrading terms (slut, cocksleeve, cumslut, cockslut), referring to alhaitham as ‘sir’, size kink, twinges of dacryphilia, one (1) pussy slap, some overstimulation, light bondage (reader’s wrists get tied together), blowjob, cunnilingus, hints of reader entering subspace (dom!alhaitham, sub!reader), will add more if i remember later but i think those are the highlights lol

please read part 1 for context! | AO3 Link for better viewing if the app is being a bitch

As agreed upon you meet Lumine and Paimon on the walkway leading up to the Sanctuary. The traveling duo go inside first, as you’re sure they have much more private and serious matters to discuss. While you wait outside, you gaze over the ledge at the breathtaking view of Sumeru in the direction of the Lokapala Jungle, and its waterfalls still bright even in the darkness of dawn. Taking in everything around you— the breeze and the stars— you feel some peace in your heart knowing you have a place to call home and return to.

The doors swing open with Lumine looking a little less happy than earlier. Paimon mutters – or at least attempts to – under her breath, while a man with a wide-brimmed hat trails out after them. The traveler provides no explanation,and instead informs you that Lord Kusanali wishes to speak with you for a minute. Perhaps the time together will let you know more about this mysterious man – child? – and why he seems to have put Paimon in such a bad mood.

“Y/N,” the Dendro Archon greets you warmly. Her voice is gentle as ever and full of compassion. “Thank you for coming here. I simply wanted to see if you had everything you needed for your travels and research.”

You show her your bag with thinly-veiled enthusiasm. “Thank you for the opportunity and your consideration of my proposal. The fact that you took the time to read through it and ask me about it really means a lot to me. It was luck that the traveler happened to be heading in that direction as well.”

“She will be a good companion. Please watch over her whenever you can.”

“Of course, though I imagine she’s going to watch over me more than her,” you jest and Lord Kusanali shares your amusement. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No. May you have safe travels, and please visit whenever you return. I look forward to your findings.”

You bow with as much reverence as possible before waving goodbye to the Archon and heading out the doors. The man from earlier is nowhere to be seen, and Lumine appears more relaxed.

“Everything all good?”

“Yes! Should we head out then?”

“Very well.”

Those with Visions have always fascinated you with the way they could make their weapons appear and disappear, and materialize things in midair. Lumine does so with what appears to be a map of Teyvat, humming to herself as she pinpoints a location. She waves it away with dainty fingers and holds out her hand.

Though confused, you trust she means no ill will and Lumine grips your hand tight when you take hers.

“Teleportation is always a little rough for first timers. Just hold on and you’ll be okay.”

“Teleporta–”

You disappear in a flash of blue light. For a split, disorienting second, you see nothing, and in the next you’re greeted with a view of what appears to be part of the Mawtiyima Forest, if the luminescent treetops are any indication. Slight nausea overcomes you and your stomach does a small turn – shit, she wasn’t lying.

“Are you alright?” Lumine asks with concern, searching through her pack for a remedy..

“Do you want a cold towel?” Paimon adds on and flutters around you to search for any signs of injury.

“I think I just need to breathe for a second,” you say, collapsing against the cliffside. “And sit for a minute.”

“Take your time. We’re quite close to the border. I would’ve taken us straight into Fontaine, but since I’ve never been before, none of those teleport waypoints have been activated.”

You point towards one in front of you. “You mean these?”

“Convenient, right?”

“...very.”

Distraught, perhaps, is one way to describe Alhaitham’s current state of mind.

By all means, it makes no sense. Did he get to know you well in an alarmingly short amount of time? Sure. Did he really look forward to those initial 36 hours passing, to the point where he felt time was crawling by at a turtle’s pace? Perhaps. Was he trying to satiate a curiosity that he had never really felt before and attempting to answer a personal unknown? In some way.

The attempting-to-resign Acting Grand Sage has read his fair share of historical texts – especially conflicts driven by love and lust. A force so powerful that it could twist the minds of even the brightest and most logical – what was that like? From a young age, he was only ever introspective in an academic sense, and the scholars touted him to be a genius. But feelings, emotions, felt abstract and out of reach as he grew up. He only ever understood his lust as a byproduct of his development as explained in the textbooks. A branch of psychology mixed with biology described everything from why humans feel attraction and the need to copulate to what is deemed healthy and alluring in a potential partner, all in the name of posterity and evolution.

Alhaitham first concluded his initial draw towards you could be explained away by all of these findings.It didn’t quite fit all the checkboxes, but enough for him to deem it understandable and valid. Those checkboxes had been visited once before when he lost his virginity, but that was all there was to it. He wouldn’t be blind enough to deny that it was a pleasurable experience, but there were other, more pressing matters at hand. Yet, even after drawing his conclusion, nothing academic could help explain why his desire to be near you was so strong. The more carnal desires took a backseat to his need to pick your brain, to make you laugh, or to have you challenge him. He learned as many of your little mannerisms as possible, all the while pretending he was completely unfazed by your presence. Your different smiles, your nervous movements, your stressed looks, your interests and dislikes – he wanted to know all of them, and not so he could store it in his brain for cautionary purposes. It was all for the sake of getting to know you.

And then he became greedy.

Another sin Alhaitham didn’t quite understand before meeting you was the growing, bubbling pit of a constant want want want for you to be by his side. To have the fantasies of coveting your soul, retching on the inside at the mere thought of others seeing you the way he did you – he was starting to see why individuals were so often thrown into a fit of rage over their loved ones and why the law has separate stipulations regarding “crimes of passion.”

And even as he sits at his usual table in his usual seat (especially on days when he really doesn’t want to be in his office during work hours), sending glares to anyone who dared to approach him or even come near your seat (which was very much not your seat by any legal means), he finds himself buried in books of philosophy. Not that they are so far out of his usual reading, for they typically align with his understanding that there are universal questions that will never be answered yet should be stated, but he has never felt the need to dive deeper than the tip of the iceberg on different schools of thought. One line in particular catches his attention, however.

“Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions.”**

Moral philosophy, the area where this statement hails from, was intriguing, yet Alhaitham knew the respected experts could talk in circles for days and do their best to argue their reasoning. This particular philosopher suggests that passion is the cause for reason, for understanding why humans do the things they do. And as the word connotation suggests, there is no room to discuss whether or not this line of thought is rational. Just as passion drives reason, reason can also serve as the breeding ground for the passions.

Abstruse to several, esoteric to many, ambiguous to the masses – Alhaitham wonders if he’s found some sort of solution to his internal dilemmas. To have it all summed up in a single sentence resonates deeply with him. Simple and succinct, yet speaking volumes to the implications; finally with a deep breath.

The next day in his office, he leans and falls back into his seat, gaze focused on the domed ceiling above. He’s always hated this chair; far too grand and impractically large. One thing he doesn’t mind is the proportionate size of the desk, as he’s learned over the years that if you give him the space, he will inadvertently cover every inch of it with his materials. Even with their dwindling number of research applications, he manages to fill the voids with his own research, books laid open and aged parchment collecting dust. For being so far above the ground level of the House of Daena, it makes sense that silence is usually his sole companion, as he tends to ignore the other researchers and matra milling around. But there must have been some memo sent out because no one is there today, and no one has come up in hours.

Surprisingly, he finds the quietude and quiescence unnerving rather than welcoming, so much so he removes his treasured earpieces and places them in his lap. The white noise he’s often found bothersome is… comforting?

A distraction, perhaps, from the absence of you.

A long, heavy sigh leaves his chest as he pulls himself up and ambles over to a locked filing cabinet with all the approved research project applications. Before he became Acting Grand Sage, the remaining applications had been split between him, Lord Kusanali, and a few other individuals. First sorted by subject area and then by last name, he rifles through with an absent mind until he catches your name on a tabbed folder. Alhaitham wastes no time plucking it from the confines of the drawer and opening it, taking care to make sure the stacks of reports and research diagrams don’t spill out onto the floor. Kaveh would have a field day if he knew just how enraptured he was by the mere sight of your handwriting. He may even take him to Lord Kusanali herself for psychological treatment or interrogation because there was no way this Alhaitham was his same sarcastic, scathing, infuriating roommate – and despite the slight amusement the thought gives him, he cannot ignore the painful pull in his chest.

It’s been five weeks since you were last seen in Sumeru, and five weeks since he had knocked on your apartment door only to be greeted by your next-door neighbor, who announced you’d left early in the morning with no definitive time of return and no mention of your destination. You would be back eventually, but would it be in six days or six months? Nobody seemed to be the wiser.

He had had half a mind to reach out to Cyno and call in a special favor to track you down for his own internal peace, but he knew the request would be irrational and unnecessary. So once a week, he stops by your apartment to see if you’ve returned, and with each unsuccessful visit and your doormat collecting more and more dust, his heart sinks just a little bit lower. If he wasn’t in his current position, he’d be halfway across the desert by now (and ultimately in the complete opposite direction) under the guise of searching for ancient ruins. Merely searching for facts and truth; nothing more, nothing less.

All to say, Alhaitham wishes he had looked through this filing drawer earlier because the file on his desk contained all the answers to his questions of your whereabouts.

The relief of knowing you were safe in a nearby nation surges through every vein in his body, tension in his muscles disappearing with the rays of sunlight beating down from the stained-glass window above. He would’ve been much more concerned if you’d gone to Inazuma – even if this Captain Beidou that Lumine spoke highly of was more than adept at crossing the treacherous seas from Liyue, the mere possibility of you falling overboard or being forced to stay in the nation was still unsettling, to say the least.

Leaning his weight onto the desk, Alhaitham drinks in everything your research has to offer. There are a few mistakes and edits that could be rectified here and there, but nevertheless, it is well done. He remembers now seeing some of these papers before, as notes you had been scribbling down on some early afternoons in the cafe. Pleased isn’t enough to describe the hum in his chest when he notices some of his suggestions incorporated into your application, fondly recalling the moments when you had picked each other’s brain regarding the topic at hand. Never once did you mention that any of this had been in preparation for your big research journey, but he would be remiss not to believe recent events had served as the catalyst for your sudden departure.

“Do come back to me,” he murmurs to no one. As he lifts his head, the cosmical, automated orb— reminiscent of an Auspicious Branch— just above the elevator platform seems to mock him. It’s An inaccurate teller of time as it spins and spins in its orbit, and Alhaitham yearns for the day you return home.--

The day you return to him.

Traveling with Lumine is fascinating, to say the least.

Ignoring the fact that feeding Paimon is like feeding three grown adults, watching the Traveler gather and store every fruit and herb and loot in sight makes you wonder what kind of life she had led before all of this. The way she takes down some wayward Treasure Hoarders is a sight to see, like a well-rehearsed dance. It lends to your understanding of why the term is “martial arts” because the way Lumine maneuvers around the enemies and her sword is, very much so, an art.

But more time together means more time into probing the real reason you’ve decided to come to Fontaine with her, and for whatever reason, she is really good at getting you to spill the beans. Lumine’s heard most of your life story at this point.

“Who are you running from?” she asks one night. After checking in with the Adventurer’s Guild in Fontaine’s capital, you’ve joined Lumine in her journey around the nation to activate the rest of the teleport waypoints. You send her your sheepest look, begging with your eyes for her to not ask anymore. But you’ve skirted around this topic the last few weeks and you figure it’s time for her to know.

With a heavy breath, you set down your bowl of biryani on the grass. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“Promise.”

“...it’s Alhaitham.” The crackling of the little campfire Lumine had put together is deafening, even louder than the ripples and waves of the river crashing onto the sand in front of them.

Naturally, Paimon speaks up first, though speaking is an understatement. “Alhaitham?! You mean that– that super mean Acting Grand Sage? The know-it-all? Can’t really care less about others? Condescending?”

“That’s a pretty big word there, Paimon–” Lumine cuts in.

“Hey!”

“See?” you respond, the smile on your face small, awkward, and bittersweet. “Things happened and well… I thought it’d be better if we stopped seeing each other.”

“You were seeing each other?!!”

“Paimon, stop!” Lumine interjects and shoots the floating fairy a disapproving glare.

You really wish you had some alcohol with you right now.

“Well…”

For the next several minutes, you provide a detailed summary of how you came to meet and learn more about Alhaitham, the nature of the budding relationship, how all your insecurities came to a head on that night, and how you ended up here. Lumine remains silent when you finish explaining everything, clearly thinking through all the information and trying to find the right words to say.

“You know,” she begins, “Alhaitham may be one of the most infuriatingly logical men that I’ve ever met. And a really good actor, too. Remind me to tell you the details of what he did when we rescued Nahida.”

“...I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“I’m just saying, but I also think you know by now that Alhaitham isn’t someone who does anything that isn’t for his own benefit, in some way.”

“Again, not helping.”

“What I’m trying to say is if he just wanted to get his dick wet, I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would agree to help out in much less time.”

To which, Lumine has a point. A very good point. But still you say, “He’s super picky though, I don’t think he’d just sleep with anyone regardless.”

“Which brings me to my original point: he picked you for a reason.”

“Because I’m easy?”

Lumine flicks your forehead before you can even blink, and with a decent amount of force as well. Your resulting indignant yelp pierces the atmosphere as you rub the sore spot. “What was that for?!”

“For being unreasonable. I’m trying to say that you must be special to him, that’s all.”

“... but what if he didn’t want to see me again after sleeping together? Sure, let’s say that I am ‘special’, heavy emphasis on my air quotes right now, but I want more, an actual relationship. How do I know that’s also what his end goal is?”

“You don’t,” Lumine affirms. “But there’s no use in wading through the what-ifs. You know what you want, and I think you’re allowed to communicate that to him, regardless of what he says.”

It’s hard to come to terms with the underlying implication that you’re being something of a coward, with not a whole lot of reason to be. You’re grateful for the open water before you, its lullaby comforting with the breeze it brings. Years of academic research have made you painfully familiar with the concept of trial and error, but to apply it to human relationships? It leaves much to be undesired. Five weeks, in the grand scheme of things, are certainly nothing more than a miniscule blip of time. But in your limited life with the overhanging unknowns of the world, it was a sizable enough amount of time filled with passive rumination and downward spirals.

“You’ll figure it out when you get there. But I’m warning you, we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”

You can’t help but laugh in relief. “That is completely okay, I promise you.”

Running away might as well be your newly developed skill at this point.

A few weeks later

“I mean, I could stay with you there in Fontaine, right? You know, extra set of hands and all?”

“You’re not getting out of this.”

“Lumiiinneee,” you whine, petulant pout making itself known.

“Just talk to him – whatever happens, happens. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. But you owe it to yourself to say your piece, as well as to him for an explanation that he needs to hear. Now go.”

She all but (gently) shoves you into the Akademiya, watching over you with an encouraging wave of her hand. When you’re less than five steps away from the door into the House of Daena, you look over your shoulder once more for any signs of escape. As expected, the Lumine-shaped obstacle stands firm in her spot.

You clutch your final report to your chest, mind racing with a thousand thoughts per second, and don’t even realize you’ve already made it to the elevator platform. And once it gives a mechanical shudder and starts to go up, you want to scream and simultaneously steal a glider to jump off and land safely back on the ground level.

Is it good or bad luck that no one seems to be around? Maybe he won’t be at his desk and you can just leave the report there and fucking bolt. Maybe it’s not even Alhaitham in the Grand Sage’s chair. Maybe the man is gone altogether and is somewhere in the desert looking at ancient runes.

Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore and has forgotten about you. Maybe he told himself to let bygones be bygones, and that you were simply another scholar in the Akademiya. No one special.

Your initial hopes of his coincidental absence are dashed as you walk up the stairs. His silver hair stands out among the sea of azure and viridian, and he doesn’t even bother to look up from the stack of papers in his hand. Not that you were a bull in a china shop by any means, but the man would even notice with his eyes closed if there was a fly on the complete opposite side of the office. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest with each shaky step, and too soon, you stand in front of his sprawling desk.

“My office hours will be ending in a few minutes,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone without looking at you. You risk a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice, an all too familiar mix of gentility and sternness. “If it’s something that requires more than that length of time, come back tomorrow.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck – “I’m just, um, turning in a research report?”

At the sound of your voice, Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to amuse himself. He’d much rather not look and not be disappointed, than to do so and become reacquainted with dashed hopes. “...And the necessary cover sheet is on top? Does it have your name, project number, and corresponding title?”

“Y-Yes.”

Still perusing through the paperwork in his hands, he frees one hand to point it at a basket on his far-right corner. “Leave it there. Your advisors and I will be reviewing it within the next two weeks.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

You do as instructed, but with each second that passes without any eye contact or direct acknowledgement of your presence, you begin to wonder if he’s purposely ignoring you. Or maybe he forgot about you entirely and wrote you off as a failed pursuit. Perhaps that would be the best-case scenario and you could hole up in your apartment for the rest of… eternity. Maybe. Lumine can come and scold you later and you can take it like a champ.

But your heart, ever so fickle and occasionally diabolical, plays one last card and causes you to stop at the top of the stairs. “Have a good night,” you muster out. “Thank you, Alhaitham.”

The rustling of his papers ceases as you turn and hurry down the steps, taking extra care to not trip over your feet. Just before you can activate the elevator, a frazzled “Y/N?” is called from above. With sweaty hands, a sullen heart, and a leadened brain, you nervously orient towards the scholar inhabiting your dreams, who stands on the edge of the platform above and peers down to confirm his suspicion. His stance looks as if he had leapt over his desk and sprinted at top speed towards you.

You’re not sure how to take it all in, how to take him in – the “feeble scholar”, for once, appears as such. If possible, his cheeks seem a little more sunken in, further accentuating the sharp edges of his jawline. His hair looks mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it several times too many. The cloak around his shoulders rests askew from his sudden movements.

But his eyes—

Those seafoam irises and amber pupils pierce through your soul, but not in an inquisitive and calculating manner. In fact, it’s quite the opposite – he looks unsure, disbelieving, and hesitant. To elicit such a reaction from this man should be recorded in the most prominent historical annals, but you do have to admit it’s a bad look on him.

When you open your mouth to say something, anything, the elevator begins its descent. Any words you had are wiped from your mind, and you do everything you can to maintain this staredown. Weeks ago, you couldn’t even begin to guess what this man would be feeling based on his eyes, but now? His heart is on his sleeve, and you can’t help the green envy in your veins at the possibility that others have seen him in such a vulnerable state.The constant battle between an illusional desire to be his everything and knowing that you never could and never should be, rages on.

You’re the first to look away. Sorry, Lumine, you think, as Alhaitham’s figure disappears from view. All you’re left with is the rotating orb above, spinning and spinning until it makes you sick to your stomach. You just want to get back to your apartment and start sweeping the dirt away, to return to some sense of normalcy before all of… this appeared. You never should’ve indulged in your whimsical desires.

Alhaitham hovers in a state of shock as he watches the elevator take you back down – after weeks of catching a glimpse of who he thinks is you at the cafe, hearing your voice in his head as he scribbles away on paperwork, or dreaming of escaping his duties to find you in Fontaine, he’s not sure if he really believes you were here or if it was some effective lucid dreaming. But the sudden pull, the impulsive need to just check the cover sheet when his name left your lips, was far too strong and he had dived right in without a second thought.

And there in your handwriting, in all its glory, was your name printed neatly at the bottom. One second, he was at his desk and the next, he was at the edge of the outer office ring for confirmation.

The last few minutes of his workday have never gone slower as he paces back and forth in front of his desk. He’s doing his best to stay calm and formulate a plan, but even that has become difficult for him. There are too many extraneous factors at play, several he can’t be sure of – did you meet someone new in Fontaine? Were you going to leave again?

Did you even want to see him?

You could’ve left without another word once your research paper landed in that return basket. He would’ve been none the wiser until he physically picked up the report, which probably wouldn’t have happened for another few days, what with all the cleaning up he’s trying to do before his resignation is official. All that lost time in between would have left him even more distraught.

But the fact that you had stopped and made a point to thank him, to call him out by name, means something. Like him, it seems you are just as unsure of where the two of you stand.

And that’s all he needs to move forward.

Granted, moving forward didn’t initially involve climbing up the fire escape ladder behind your apartment building.

With a takeout bag of your favorite foods from Lambad’s Tavern, he was originally going to knock on your front door like any other individual. But before his knuckles could rap against the Adhigama wood, he thought, why not check to see if you’re even home? That would eliminate the possibility of you seeing him through the peephole and then pretending you’re not home – or worse, you opening it and then slamming it back in his face.

His unparalleled logic led him to skip the ladder and jump onto the first floor. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to climb it with one free hand – the food would’ve gotten messy with all the jostling around. He ignores the sound of laughing children as he ambles past, but allows the semblance of a grin to dawn his face when he hears, “Whoa, look at that mister!” Alhaitham looks above him as he climbs the next set of stairs, noticing a light peeking through the living room window. That’s one good sign, at least, because it means you’re home, right? He peers past the half-open curtains when he arrives at your floor. He’s just checking. Nothing suspicious or untoward. Yet all of that is scrapped— another deviation from his initial plan— when he sees you sitting on your couch, sorting through a pile of mail on your coffee table. With a mind of their own, his knuckles knock lightly against the glass and he can’t help but let a humorous snort slip out when your body jerked with a visceral startle, head whipping towards the source of your adrenaline spike.

You don’t need to verbally question his sudden appearance when it’s written all over your face. Your eyebrows are knitted and arched, mouth turned down in a slight frown, hands clenched in fists with visible tension and unease. “Alhaitham, what– I mean–”

He holds up the food behind the windowpane for you to see. “I wanted to bring you dinner since you probably don’t have anything prepared on your first night back.”

Without another word, you slide open the window, letting him clamber through as you take the bag from him. He retrieves it as you lock the window and yank the curtains together, setting it on the table away from a mound of what he presumes to be junk mail. You scramble for words and coherency as you search for clean plates and utensils, but the effort is fruitless. There’s a trapped shriek in your chest and you don’t know how to snuff it out.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for some awkward small talk here and there. He makes it a point to give you extras, whether it be a little more mint cilantro or tamarind chutney for the samosas (despite it being his favorite) or more of the lamb from the biryani. Each little morsel pushes your heart further up your throat, further sending you into a downward spiral. Why is he so kind and caring when you had essentially kicked him out last time? Why is he going out of his way to make up for a wrong he never committed?

Alhaitham basks in your company, taking in every detail of your outward appearance. You seem skinnier than before, hair just a little bit longer. A few fresh, healing cuts on your hand stand out to him and he hopes they were all accidental and not intentionally created by another human being. There’s so much he wants to say and question, but for once he cannot find the right words. Rarely has he ever felt as though he was skating on paper-thin ice with someone – years of not caring or sparing thoughts for how others might perceive him lends nothing to resolve his state of incertitude. So the only way he can currently try to communicate is through actions, hence the extra foods and your favorite parts of them, making sure you have a usable napkin at all times, refilling your cup of water when it starts to look low, and more.

With a full belly, you sigh with satisfaction, a breath that appeases Alhaitham just the slightest bit. “That was good. Thank you for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome. Was the food in Fontaine not to your taste?”

You hum in thought. “A bit bland, honestly. Not as many spices are used in their foods like they are here.”

“Ah.”

The two of you sit silently for a few moments. You’re looking anywhere and at anything but him, your knee bouncing and hands wringing together. Is he trying to let you down easy? Soften the blow? What is his end goal?

His fingers tap the table in a silent rhythm, noticing that despite the small talk, the tension in the air is still viscous. He ignores the gnawing desire to hold your hand and squeeze it tight, to graze his thumb over those scabs and kiss them. He’s not ready to leave yet, which is why he juts his chin towards the only unopened bag on the table and says, “I also brought dessert. Would you care to have some now?”

No. Yes. I don’t know. I can think of something else I want for dessert but that’s not the point right now, is what runs through your head.

“Sure. What is it? I might have something to go with it.”

“It’s baklava.”

For him to remember that baklava from Pupusa Cafe is your preferred dessert when eating your favorite dishes is even more mind-boggling in this whole situation.

You stand on shaky legs and walk towards the pantry. “Does wine sound okay?”

Alhaitham ponders your last mutual experience with alcohol, which had ended in a disaster, even if he knew full well that it wasn’t a cause by any means; an unintended catalyst. As long as neither overindulged, it would be harmless. Right?

So he nods. “That sounds good.”

You return with a corkscrew opener, two stemless wine glasses, and one of your better bottles of aged wine. Alhaitham remains silent as he takes the opener from you and drives it into the cork, hand twisting the top knob with ease. You feel shameless in the way you stare at his arms, watching his muscles flex. The veins in his hand become more visible and you can see the tension in his forearm through his arm guards, all the more when he pushes the levers closed and wiggles the cork out of its confines. He takes good care to tactfully remove the cork and place it on the table, and pours a glass for you first.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you take it from him with both hands, ignoring the way his fingers seem to linger after making contact with yours. You portion out the baklava as he pours a glass for himself and he voices his gratitude in turn.

As you nibble on the delicacy, the silence weighs heavily on your chest, both a burden and a source of comfort. “Did you find everything you needed in Fontaine for your research?” he asks, once again attempting to make some neutral conversation. Alhaitham has never been one for sweets, but he’s willing to eat it for and with you. The cafe’s baklava is one of few desserts he can handle, as it’s not as sickeningly sweet as some other places’ when they’ve added too much syrup.

You chew slowly as you think of your answer. “I think so. I feel pretty good about my report.”

“I’ll be sure to read it soon,” he responds. After all, he is a pretty quick reader, and with the dwindling number of research project applications, he can efficiently get through the other reports to make sure he reviews yours before he goes back to being the Scribe.

“You know, there’s no need to rush on my account,” you say. Honestly, that’s the last thing you need because it would confirm your worst fears and assumptions. Everything discussed with Lumine would’ve been tossed violently out the window, and you so badly don’t want it to manifest.

“...I won’t,” he assures you. Alhaitham understands your research paper needs to be treated like every other one passing through the Akademiya, especially if he is going to be one of the formal reviewers.

You feel your lungs losing air, your heart rate soaring through the roof. With a stroke of luck, your glasses of wine are finished off and the plates hold nothing but crumbs, which provides a perfect excuse for you to get up and get away.

“I’m gonna wash the dishes,” you announce, voice doing little to hide how nervous and shaky you’re feeling. It’s another miracle that you don’t drop anything on the trek from the dining table to the sink as you wonder if you’ve killed any chance of being with Alhaitham. Where was the confidence you possessed when you first met the man?

Even being mere meters away from him becomes painful. His presence alone provides a sense of security, strong and silent. The lack of warmth, the string between you two pulled taut, ignites an obdurate yearning – the very same yearning experienced when you spent days avoiding the man prior to your departure for Fontaine. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they all say, and there certainly was some merit to it.

The silence remains suffocating, in some ways, but also comforts you with its deep pressure, distracting you enough that you fail to notice Alhaitham moving around. He removes his cloak and earpieces, draping them neatly over the couch armrest before he comes to stand next to you at the sink. He grabs a towel and is ready to dry when you’re done washing the dishes. Your muscles begin to relax, that earlier frost of loneliness gradually dissipating with his presence nearby. He dries everything with the utmost care and lines them up neatly as you hand them over, and you ignore the little brushes of his fingers against yours with each relinquished plate. You can’t help but wonder if he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks because honestly, you feel like your face is on fire.

Alhaitham finishes drying off the last item – the second stemless wine glass – and turns to lean his back against the counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He waits as you rinse down the sink and passes you the towel to dry off your hands. Your timid smile leaves him hopeful that you’re not visibly shying away from him— not visibly, at least. Seconds pass, and now there is nothing left for you to do or keep yourself busy. He waits for you to gather your bearings and settle to show that you’re ready to talk about… whatever this is.

Those haunting irises suddenly meet his with an alarming amount of determination, holding steadfast and searching his for something, anything. He can’t bear to lose and look away, not that he wants to. Yet you remain quiet, and Alhaitham leans into his impulses.

With firm, sure hands, he pulls you toward his original spot and lifts you up just enough so that you’re sitting on the counter. Alhaitham plants them by your waist and bends down to be level with your gaze, which now holds hints of fear and surprise. They’re open wide, your pupils slowly dilating, and he catches a glimpse of your fingers curling around the edges of the counter. He so badly wants to cradle your face in his hands, to feel your physical presence and prove to himself that you’re really here before him. But that is intimacy he hasn’t quite been granted yet and he can’t mess this up. He must’ve done something wrong the last time he was here, and he most certainly doesn’t want to risk the same outcome again.

“I like you,” he proclaims with a resolute tone. Alhaitham has always hated beating around the bush when unnecessary, and at this point he needs it said out loud for you to know. “I have been attracted to you since the moment we met, and I used to believe that it was purely a biological response. But then I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to learn more about who you are and how your mind works. To be quite honest, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else being in my position right now. I will not hide the fact that I am selfish and want you all for myself, if you would have me.”

You are struggling so hard to keep the smile off your face, your mouth pursing while your teeth dig into the inside of your bottom lip. Three months ago, you would never have seen this coming, and you would have laughed in anyone’s face if they had suggested it.

“If you need time, I can wait. I am not always the most patient person, but for you, I am willing to do so. And–”

“I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again after having sex,” you interject and confess. The embarrassment of your thoughts and actions quickly becomes a heavy weight in your chest. Your nerves strain to get the better of you and shut you down before saying more, but you force yourself to push past them. Alhaitham provided you with honesty and transparency, and he deserves the same from you. “We had so much tension between us and I was worried that once it was all resolved, you wouldn’t feel the need to see me again.”

Alhaitham takes a moment to process your words, but he can still see the tension in your shoulders. You won’t meet his gaze as you look past him or at other parts of his body. “There’s something else, is there not?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers intertwined and fingertips applying pressure where they land. With how forthcoming he has been, you owe it to him to extend the same courtesy, despite how silly it feels now.

“I couldn’t understand why you would even like me,” you say, voice soft and barely audible in the silence. You’re unable to mask the melancholy in your tone when you remember how it felt to internally question his affections and assume the worst. A quiet chuckle slips past your lips, but it’s derisive and bittersweet. “I’m just another scholar and you— you were the Scribe and later Acting Grand Sage. I thought maybe people would accuse me of… providing sexual favors, to put it lightly, if you showed me any leniency or favoritism in my academic career.”

The back of your knuckles brush against his cheek as you lift your head up to take him in. “You could have anyone in the world and you deserve nothing but the best. So why me?”

“I would need a few all-nighters and several pieces of paper to pen down every reason why.”

His quick reasoning with all indicators of certainty – his tone, the lack of any dishonesty in his eyes, the way he holds your eye contact – takes you for a loop. You’re only able to let out a soft “oh” as you let the implications of his words swim in your brain, leaving you helpless to find a suitable response. How do you follow up on an answer like that?

When he feels your fingers slipping down his jawline, he stops it with his own to press his cheek into your palm. “If it provides you any comfort, I will no longer be the Acting Grand Sage by next week. You know how long I’ve waited for them to process and approve of my resignation. And as the Scribe… it still does not matter. People who would assume something so salacious are simply capitalizing on their own insecurities, and they do not deserve a second of your time or an ounce of room in your thoughts. I do my best to exercise fairness and reason in all matters for the Akademiya, and even as my partner you would not be safe from that.

“I’ve never shied away from telling you how things are and you know this. I can ensure you would not earn any favoritism or leniency within the boundaries of the Akademiya, should my presence be involved in your research.”

The smirk that creeps up at the corner of his lips ignites a small flame in your belly – thrill and heat and trepidation all melding together. “Now, outside of those boundaries, it’s a different matter. If I may pry once more, what is your answer?”

Liquid fire pumps from your heart and into your veins, further fueling the heat in your core. Just as it dips dangerously lower, so does your hand, and the other joins in lightly scraping your nails down his abdomen. You feel him jump beneath your touch and relish in the sound of his swallow, and how his breath hitches when your fingertips dip into the band of his pants. They tug him forward until he’s standing between your thighs, just centimeters of nothingness between you two. Even as close as he is, Alhaitham can’t help but think there’s still too much space unoccupied.

Your eyes scream, beseeching him to understand your actions and for him to respond in kind. It can only mean one thing, but he wants to hear those words. He wants it engraved in his memories for the rest of time, despite the desperation to give in and give you both what you desire and need. Alhaitham grasps your chin between his thumb and curled index finger, leaning forward closer and closer until his lips barely touch yours.

“Use your words.”

Arousal seeps through your underwear as the subdued tenor of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Wholly unfair, this man is. Devilish, demanding, teasing, controlling – but most of all, he is yours.

“Please let me have you, if you will have me,” you whisper against his lips, eyelashes fluttering closed at the faint touch.

No sooner when you are greeted by darkness does he fully slot his mouth against yours, hands gripping tightly on your hips to pull you against him. A groan slips past and into you because gods, he’s missed this so much. After nights of waking up with the ghost of your kisses, he never wants this to end and longs for a reality where time can stop and he can take his sweet, sweet time to worship every millimeter of your body with his lips, and then some. Excitement electrifies his whole body when you reciprocate his desire ounce for ounce, and even more so when you let out a pretty little whine, just for him.

When he pulls back for a chance to breathe, he doesn’t move far. “Good girl,” he praises so sweetly, the words washing over you in something akin to pride for eliciting his approval and pleasing him. Alhaitham slides the tip of his nose against yours, moving to kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, your jawline, and the pulse point on your neck. Even the slightest pressure has you tilting your head to the side, granting him permission and room to do as he pleases. Alhaitham bides his time to press whispers of kisses onto your skin until he nips a sensitive spot. A sharp inhale pierces through the kitchen when he sucks on the patch of skin caught between his teeth, taking the utmost care to break the little capillaries underneath. He wants you to experience his phantom touches on these spots in the hours when he’s away from you, a constant reminder that you are his and his alone.

Your fingers dig into Alhaitham’s silver locks, torn between pressing him further into your neck and pulling him away. “Haitham,” you plead and tug on his strands, which only prompts an even harsher abrasion from him. “Wanna kiss you.” Your voice is breathy, and you feel as if you’re on the verge of tears. Who is he to deny such a reasonable request?

Though instead, he pulls you off the counter and rushes to your bedroom with you in tow, granting your wish as soon as you enter. The back of his knees hit the foot of your bed and Alhaitham drags you with him when he sits on top of your blankets. Despite your eagerness to clamber over and straddle him, he disapproves when you attempt to exercise a modicum of control over the situation by leveraging some height over him, utilizing gravity to lean into his embrace and kisses. His palms slide up your thighs with reverence until they dig into the crevice of your hips and yank them down. To have you pressed fully against him is most certainly a blessing, and there’s no way you don’t feel his growing arousal against yours.

When he feels his bottom lip stuck between your teeth, Alhaitham smiles. It still seems you’re not fully understanding the position you’re in. Perhaps, he might need to remind you of just who exactly is succumbing to who.

You keen when his hands dip underneath your shirt to draw meaningless patterns into your waist, but also to make his mark as he holds tight enough that you think you would feel some internal bruising tomorrow. They dance higher and higher, until they meet the bottom seam of your bra, and you nearly choke with the arousal suffocating your lungs.

“Can I?” Alhaitham almost begs, but watches for any sign of hesitation.

“Yes,” you breathe back. You lift your arms up, waiting with thinning patience, and he wastes no time in following through, tossing the shirt to the side with one hand as the other busies to unhook the metal clasp of your bra. Soon enough, your upper body is bare for him to see, to touch, to love – and his breath is taken away because you are so, so beautiful; perfect breasts with hardened nipples, an empty canvas all for him. He made a mistake last time for not seeing them properly, having been too focused on the way they felt against his chest instead.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. His subsequent scoff feels derisive, sardonic, self-destructive, and his thumbs ghost over your areolas. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous – this is unfair.”

“You’re the one who’s unfair,” you retaliate with a shaky breath as you nearly tear off his shirt. One look at his muscular and toned frame, and it takes everything to stop the drool from spilling past your lips. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Be careful,” he warns, his fingers digging into the flesh just underneath your breasts. Alhaitham holds onto you as he scoots further back onto the bed, and once he deems there’s enough room, he rolls over until he’s hovering above you, panting and hair splayed and lips swollen. “I’m just a feeble scholar.”

When you roll your eyes with an excessive amount of sass, he dips down to capture your right nipple in his mouth and gives a harsh suck as punishment, satisfied when all defiance on your face morphs into pleasure. Pretty, responsive, little angel, all for him, so sweet, so delicate, so adorable when your spine arches into his mouth and continues to suspend itself as he pays his respects to your other breast. You feel your conscience become fuzzier and fuzzier, dissolving into mush as the tendrils of overstimulation begin to grow, and once again, you find yourself torn between wanting to let him continue and wanting him to stop.

He decides to grant you some mercy when you can’t help but twitch and shy away. Alhaitham’s primal desires begin to crest and wash away any rationale, desperate to keep the taste and feel of your skin between his lips and on his tongue. He doesn’t quite understand this newfound desire to nip and bite, but all he knows is that when he does, his arousal pulses and nearly threatens to break past the seam of his pants. Alhaitham moves lower, lower, ghosting past your stomach, nudging past the band of your bottoms and underwear to tug them down all the way. Those are thrown out of view and he finally, finally, gets to continue from where he last left off, taking no time to push your legs away towards your chest and give a lascivious lick up the length of your cunt. The tip of his tongue meets your clit at the end of its journey, and he firmly holds you down when your hips buck into his mouth as it circles the nub.

It’s game over when he takes it fully in his mouth.

Your hands twist themselves once more into his silver hair, expletives slipping off your tongue as you chase your high. You feel your pussy clench around nothing the higher you climb, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter. He eats you out like a man starved, enthusiasm unveiled and clear. His passion unbridled and sending you further into the clouds, you feel tears in your eyes begin to well up from sheer bliss, so sensitive and so unbelievably unprepared for everything this man was going to give you tonight. “Haitham,” you cry over and over, his name a mantra and prayer.

When he leans back, you catch a glimpse of the sheen on his chin and the way his eyes remain focused on your arousal, pupils blown. “You taste so good,” he compliments, his voice somehow having dropped an octave lower. “Could eat you out for hours. So good for me, fuck.” It’s dangerous how much you love to hear him curse, knowing that you are the reason why. The rational, feeble, well-spoken scholar, his prose extending to situations such as now, is almost reduced to such crude and filthy vocabulary.

Alhaitham would need to be blind to miss your sticky precum practically spilling from your core after what he said. It’d be a shame to let any of it go to waste, he muses, as he drags his tongue up the length of your cunt and pays attention to your clit again. He watches for every reaction, what makes you tug him closer, what makes your body twitch and convulse, what causes the shakiest exhales from your lungs, what contributes to your squeals and cries – he wants you to get a taste of just how unhinged he becomes in your presence.

Each moment of friction, so wet and slick, against your core seems to send you further and further into oblivion. Tears overflow when your heart bursts and Alhaitham doesn’t miss them – the sheen sliding down the sides of your face shines in the moonlight and he knows there is no reason to fear you’re in pain. He drinks in your moans and feels your fingers tangle further in his silver strands, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, your hips with a mind of their own as you grind against his tongue and nose to chase your release. Alhaitham pays no mind to the way his cock twitches once more in his pants or the unmistakable wet spot that’s formed from his own precum.

The coil in your abdomen wounds tighter and tighter. There is nothing on your mind but the man between your legs and your impending orgasm, one with an intensity you haven’t experienced in ages. “ ‘m close,” you gasp and meet his burning gaze. “Please, wanna cum – yes – please, sir–”

How he doesn’t cum in his pants at the title is beyond his comprehension, but the stroke to his ego is welcoming, to say the least. Alhaitham never felt any type of way when others addressed him as so, sometimes annoyed even, but from you? It is everything. A verbal indication of relinquishing your power to him, your existence at its highest vulnerability, the underlying respect, the implicit trust hidden between three letters – only has him pushing down harder against your thighs, leaving no room for you to fight. The resolve and determination to have you cum on his tongue only increases and his thoughts plunder further into hell. Cum for me, cum on my tongue, let me taste your release that I give you, so fucking addictive – his silent commands painted on your tight bundle of nerves.

With Alhaitham exercising a dizzyingly sinful strength against you, leaving you helpless and defenseless, you let yourself succumb as your heart rate increases. Your breathy warnings and pleas, the oh fuck!s, the whimpering sir!s, confessions of love on the tip of your tongue – you have one minute, moment of clarity when your body freezes, and the coil snaps.

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so hard before, reality-shattering, nerves on overdrive, your body trembling beneath his palms as you ride out the pleasure for as long as you can. The quiet scream from your lungs is inevitable as it dissolves into sobs and Alhaithm follows you when your hips buck. There’s not enough oxygen for you and you can feel the visceral clenching of your abdomen as you fight for air and some semblance of control again – but that flies out the window when, for the first time tonight, Alhaitham slides his tongue inside your quivering cunt.

Said Scribe cannot help but groan, and he wishes he’d done this earlier. To feel your creamy walls squeeze as his taste buds slide amongst them, your keening ringing in his ears, the shaking of your thighs a prisoner between his fingers, the intoxicating taste of your cum – all of it is more than he could have ever dreamed of. Right where he wants you, and all his, his, his.

The incessant tugging of his hair tells him to stop for now, as much as he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d have you cumming on his tongue for hours, his hard cock be damned. But your convulsions of overstimulation manage to generate the slightest bit of sympathy and he laments when pulling away. His eyes hone in on the way your pussy contracts around nothing, almost begging for something to fill you again. “Good girl,” he praises, tenor delicate and charming, as he rubs gentle circles on your abdomen in an attempt to ground you. There are stars in your eyes, and he waits for you to come back to him.

You barely register Alhaitham’s hand on your body as you stare up at the ceiling, brain and soul somewhat disconnected due to the high of your orgasm. So good to me, your thoughts coo. Haitham, sir, how can I show my gratitude to him?

“Y/N,” and at last, you make eye contact with him. He preens at the blissed out look on your face and moves forward until he’s lying next to you, his weight supported on one arm while the other brushes away your baby hairs. A dreamy smile graces your lips, and he can’t help but lean forward for a soft kiss. Languid, sensual, pliant – several minutes fly by as you bask in each other’s presence until the need for more begins to bloom again. Alhaitham lets out a chuckle when he feels your hand wandering down his frame until it rests on his crotch. Making out with you has kept him semi-hard, and he’s happy you’re taking the initiative. Not that you’re in control, by any means, but it’s cute that you might think so.

Your mind reels from just how big he feels beneath your palm. You can’t deny the times when you’ve sneaked glances at his crotch, his tight pants outlining a slight bulge from day to day – but you never thought your fingers would be splayed so far apart, and you just know they would struggle to meet when gripping his length. Your whines reach his ears as you fumble with the clasp above the zipper, and Alhaitham is so kind, kind enough to take over and do it for you. Seconds later, his pants and underwear join the pile of forgotten clothes, and you immediately look down at what you’ve been waiting for.

The instant pooling of saliva in your mouth is embarrassing, shame and lust spilling into your chest and through your veins. Alhaitham’s cock is so beautiful, just like the rest of him, and you’ve never wanted something in your mouth so bad. It twitches under your reverent gaze, and the tip glistens with his precum. Even the noticeable veins drawn along his length are beautiful, and his balls seem to be engorged, heavy with cum. You prove your earlier hypothesis when you hold it in your hand, and your fingers truly do not meet around the circumference. A gush of slick leaks and paints your inner thighs, your hand seemingly tiny in comparison as you slowly stroke him.

Alhaitham hisses at your touch, so cold against the heat of his cock. There’s a passing thought of wanting to keep that fawning look on your face at all times, the metaphorical hearts in your eyes with his dick in your hand. In a moment of weakness, the thought begins to spiral into darker fantasies, how to keep you hooked and dependent on him, his cock, his mouth, his touch. A flash of a daydream crosses by of him sitting in his office chair, you on your knees between his legs, his shaft bullied deep in your throat as you keep it warm for him, drool and spit spilling from the corner of your lips, so submissive and desperate for him to fuck your face–

Your thumb glosses over his frenulum and he is ripped from his reverie. At risk of cumming too quickly, he thinks of how to keep your soft hands away for now. What can he use? How can he restrict you?

Ah.

Confused whimpers follow after him when he abruptly stands up from your bed and walks over to the pile of discarded clothes. You miss the warmth of his body next to you, goosebumps from the sudden chill rising on your skin. But before you can begin to chase after him, he returns to sit on the bed and beckons for you to sit up for him.

He loves how willing you are to obey him, your eyes wide and a little awestruck as you follow his gesture – almost as if he were your puppeteer. Alhaitham holds out his hands in front of him, palms facing the ceiling, and you match the posture with intrigue painted across your face. As you wait, clarification comes to you when he reveals the patterned, teal sash that usually encompasses his hips. Slow, deliberate movements as he wraps the cloth around your wrists (in case you don’t want it because he would never force you to do anything you were uncomfortable with), indicate this uncharted territory. And when the tie is made and the knot is pulled tight, you look up at him.

“Is this okay?” He asks. When you give a mute nod, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Words, Y/N.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Yes, sir, it’s okay.”

Alhaitham watches as you lay back until your head meets the pillow, and your bound wrists lay prettily above your head. Your constrained and exposed body greets him. He sees your eyes strain to catch another glance at his cock, and the smirk on his lips is nothing but smug as he gives it a few quick pumps as a gift to you.

“Can you come here?” You plead because you know there’s no room to make any demands, and it’s his turn to be curious. Nevertheless, he resumes his original position by your side, but you shake your head. You can tell he doesn’t know what’s happening, but you are feeling shameless and powerless, at the mercy of this man, and you want him to really, really, drive that point deeper.

“Can you��straddle me? Like above my chest though?”

If this is going where Alhaitham thinks it’s going, he might just abandon the Akademiya altogether, whisk you away to his house, kick out Kaveh and have him live in your apartment instead, and keep his own doors locked for eternity. He does as you ask as he thrums in excitement, his cock weighty and leaking when you’re satisfied with where he is.

Time slows to a crawl as he watches you lift your head up with your pretty mouth open and take the tip of his cock between your glossy lips.

The tight heat is maddening, a strangled “fuck” falling off his tongue, and you push forward to take more of his length in your mouth. So dutiful and loyal, you have proven yourself, as you suck his cock with your eyes closed and moans vibrating around him. Given certain physical limitations, there’s only so much you can take in, which is where he believes it’s his time to act his part. He places a hand on the back of your skull to provide you some relief, but also to sink deeper down your throat. Naturally, you fall back until it’s just the head between your lips again, but he is right there to drag you back towards him and fill your depraved mouth.

“Look at you,” he hisses, controlling your pace. Such a good little fucktoy, no? “Who knew you would want my cock so badly? For me to sit on top and watch as you struggle to even take half of it in your mouth? I don’t think you have any idea of what you’ve started. Your lips are stretched so wide, but just wide enough for me to fit perfectly in between them, like it was made for me. Maybe that’s what it is.” His perverse thoughts run wild without any composure or filter, and he is unable to hold it in. “You were made for me and my cock, and– oh fuck – it seems like you love the idea of being my personal cocksleeve.”

Your eagerness to please him increases as you strain to take more in, his tip slipping into and catching the back of your throat. The sound of you choking on his cock rings in your ears, sending you further and further into oblivion. Every word from Alhaitham sounds true, and he’s right – right that maybe you were specifically made for him, his own blessing from the Archons, and right that you deeply, painfully, love the idea of letting him use you as he wishes. A garbled cry, followed by more sticky release dripping from your cunt, doesn’t go unnoticed when his voice sounds ragged on the word “cocksleeve.” It’s a lascivious tone of accord and approval, and your tears flow when he pulls you as far down his length as your quenched throat allows, your chained wrists resting atop your skull, and he keeps you there.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I have no objections to fully commit to being yours, your sir. But you must understand I expect the same commitment in return. This cock is yours,” Alhaitham promises, relishing in your muffled whimper of agreement. “And you are mine. My,” – a pause – “personal, depraved, slut.”

At first, he worries he might have gone too far with such a derogatory term, but they are all dashed aside when he watches your eyelids flutter closed and eyes roll into the back of your head. A long whine sends him into overdrive, and even more so when you try to fit more of his cock down your throat. Expletives slip from his tongue as he pulls you away completely, a tendril of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, your mouth still wide open while gasping for air. He sees your own tongue peek out and rest on your bottom lip, pliant and waiting for him to return.

Alhaitham lets go of your skull and watches you fall back to your pillow. He moves your tied hands above and over your head until they settle right above your belly button. The position allows him to trap your arms beneath him and move just a little further up the bed for the bottom half of his length to weigh heavily on your eager mouth. It remains open as he drags his shaft along your tongue, teasing you by slipping the head of his cock in your mouth. Your lips immediately close around it, but they are no match for when he pulls away, and you’re left empty once again.

“Truly a cockslut,” he chides as his hand takes a hold of his length and smacks it against your tongue. “You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you?” And he smirks when you nod, still beckoning, still waiting. “You’ve done well for me so far. Perhaps I should give you a gift.”

There’s little time to regain your senses when he shoves his length in until it hits the back of your throat once more and grabs onto your headboard. Just that angle gives him enough leverage to fuck your face as he pleases.

“If your mouth is this tight, I can only imagine what your cunt will feel like on my cock,” he grits out. Your brain goes numb as you take it all in, content and satisfied to please Alhaitham. You focus on making sure your teeth don’t drag against his skin, tongue swiping patterns and circles around his cock when possible. “I’ll need to take my time stretching out your tiny pussy, won’t I? Fuck, need to make it fit inside you. Isn’t that right?”

Alhaitham pretends to be dissatisfied with your moan, all garbled and thick with drool. “How many times do I need to tell you to use your words?” He teases, knowing full well there’s no way for you to form any right now. But a wicked, joyous laugh rings in your ears when he can tell you’re attempting to do it anyways. It goes straight down his dick and into his balls, and as they tighten further, he knows he’s close.

You don’t know how it’s possible for him to grow any thicker, but somehow it happens when his pace increases, and he tells you, “I’m going to cum, okay? Going to give you all my cum, make you my cumslut. You want to be my cumslut, you’re doing so well, so perfect, letting me fuck your mouth. Shit, cumming, cumming –!”

At the very last second, he pulls out and furiously pumps his cock, shifting back just in time for his cum to paint your breasts. “Fuck!” He growls and rides out the high until there’s nothing left to give you, blinding light beneath his eyelids before he snaps them open so he can watch you become covered by his release. Viscous, white ropes paint over you, some even landing on your cheek and neck. His chest heaves and his eyes remain unfocused from the fog in his brain.

That is, until he watches you swipe his cum from your neck with your fingers before it drips onto the bed, and place them in your mouth. Your sigh screams content as you lick them clean, and as far as he can tell, you’re enjoying the taste of him – as if he was the one to sate your thirst rather than the other way around. In a trance, he joins you in your meal by feeding you more with his own appendages, and his dick returns to half-mast once all the cum is visibly gone and slid down your throat.

“Thank you for your cum,” you say, your voice dreamy and euphoric. Alhaitham pulls you by your bound wrists again until you’re sitting up close enough, and buries his head into your shoulder, embedding his own kisses of gratitude into your skin. It doesn’t matter that there’s dried spit on your chin and your hair is a mess – you’re still so incredibly stunning to him.

To look into your eyes, to cradle your face in his palm, to ghost his thumb over your cheekbone, how lucky he is to be in a position to even ask you, “Was that okay?”

“Very,” you smile, unabashed and clearly happy with everything that had just happened. A small giggle slips out as well.

“Good,” he murmurs after kissing your forehead. “Would you be open to one more round? It seems I haven’t gotten enough of you.”

You see the evidence of his claims, how his cock gradually grows and rises under your watchful stare. His earlier words of needing to stretch you out before he can fuck you play in your head, and they remind you of just how wet you are. Still tied up, you scoot back away from him until you can stretch your legs out, parted to reveal what you so desperately wanted to touch as his dick was lodged in your mouth. Alhaitham’s pupils dilate and zero in on the mess between your thighs, and he chases after you to spread your legs farther.

“You became this wet from me fucking your mouth?” His fingers slide against the folds of your puffy cunt, your clit peeking out and swollen. “Tsk, all this pre gone to waste,” and you whimper when his nails barely graze that bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. There’s no resistance when he works his middle finger inside you and your breath hitches. He turns his wrist as he fingers you, creating more and more arousal coursing through your veins. Alhaitham is proud that one finger of his affects you so. You whine and reach for him with grabby hands, managing to latch onto his wrist so he can keep his appendages buried inside you. “My my,” he teases, and his fingers curl, searching and searching until his fingertip taps against the exact spot that makes your back arch.

“You’re so eager to be filled,” Alhaitham taunts as he lubes up his ring finger with your slick. You feel even tighter when it slips in with his middle finger, and he finds that spot again in no time, already having memorized where it is. “You don’t have my permission to cum yet,” he warns, a decision just made when your walls are really beginning to clench around him.

“B-but–”

A third finger joins in, cutting you off from any protesting. “You either cum on my cock or not at all,” he offers and you think it’s beyond cruel. Why can’t you cum on his fingers and his cock?

With every last thread of your existence, you stamp down the growing desire to cum again. It feels like hours have passed, your sanity barely intact, when Alhaitham hums, just loud enough to be heard amongst your moans and whines. “I’m beginning to question whether I truly am too big for you,” he contemplates out loud. “What do you think, Y/N?”

It’s so hard to answer his question when you’re using everything else inside you to not break around his fingers. The depraved squelching of your slick only adds fuel to the fire in your core, and you’re trying to think, you really are–

The friction ceases, and before you can even address it, there’s a light, punishing slap across your clit. “Fuck,” you whimper, throat dry.

“Answer my question. Do you think I might not fit inside you?”

You know what answer he’s looking for. You know he wants you to surrender to his hidden intentions, that, “It doesn’t matter,” and you swallow. “I will…make it fit.”

In turn, he removes his fingers with care, but leaves you horribly empty with the void expanding into your chest. “Do you have a condom?” Alhaitham asks while looking around your bedroom.

“The bottom drawer on the right in the bathroom.”

Your sir leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I will return soon.”

For the seconds that you try to catch your breath, to calm your beating heart, to ignore the vacuity between your legs, you realize just where you are and who you’re with. You haven’t had much of a clear mind since the second he knocked on your window, caught up in the whirlwind of your nerves and paranoia – and then to have it turned on its head where you now lay in your bed, free of any prior anxiety, and drown in your lust.

Alhaitham wanders back into your room, focused on the package in his hand. Shameless and perverse, your eyes drink in his length, bobbing with each step. Even you’re beginning to doubt your ability to take him all in, but the anticipation, the threads of excitement that you may be filled again clouds over everything else.

“Hold your legs for me,” he commands gently, and you obey once he unties the sash around your wrists. Your arms hook beneath your knees so that everything is displayed and exposed to him. He sets the condom to the side when he shuffles closer so his hips meet the bottom of your thighs. Your breath hitches when he presses his cock onto your abdomen, and it pleases both of you so much to see that his tip just about reaches your belly button. “Look at how deep it’ll be inside you,” he coos, your whine following. “But it’s okay if you can’t take it all, you can’t help it that your little cunt is so tight.”

There’s a twinge of faux disappointment in his words. As if on instinct, you shake your head in vehement disagreement. “I’ll make it fit, sir, I promise,” you gasp and pull your legs closer to you. “We have to make it fit.”

“Mmm, my eager cocksleeve,” he responds with mirth, his regales washing away the panic from your system. You wait with bated breath as he grinds the underside of his entire length against your glistening folds, purposely catching onto your clit when possible. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand the torture, becoming wetter and wetter with each glide. “The color system is okay to check in with you?”

“Yes.”

He nods and leans back so the tip of his cock is just outside your entrance. His fingers roll and stretch the condom down his length. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to tear his gaze away from your core so he can obtain your consent to start, and the determined nod he receives sets his heart aflame.

A sinful perversion enters his mind as he watches your messy cunt split open and stretch over the head of his cock. He thinks about the future and wonders when the day will be for you to be in his lap and sink down his cock with no hesitation. His thumbs spread your folds further apart so he can get a better look, his lustful illusions from many lonely nights finally coming into play. Your breathy gasp when the head pops in is alluring, and he craves more of it. That perversion echoes its lack of satisfaction, that this is not enough, and he needs it all. Pride fills his chest as you take the first few inches with no problem, trying to take deep breaths as he continues to bully his way into your pussy.

Though internally, your mind is on the verge of breaking from how thick Alhaitham is. The emptiness from earlier has long been fulfilled, and you take a look to see that he’s barely fit half oh him inside you, and you already feel so full.

You were made for me.

I was made for him, you remind yourself, rationality thrown out the window because serving Alhaitham is all that matters in this moment. He’s giving you his cock, taking his time for you, providing a subtle reminder of just who you will belong to from here on out. Alhaitham has been so kind to you, you think. The least you could do is to be his good little slut, so eager and always yearning for him.

“You’re doing so well,” Alhaitham praises, though his voice chokes. You’re terribly tight around him, so much so that he wonders if he would even be able to pull out once he’s buried all of himself inside you. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, he thinks, to have you stuck on his cock for eternity, fucked dumb with nothing on your mind but him and pleasure. His hand puts the slightest pressure on your abdomen, but it’s enough for you to break with an “oh!”

“Fuck, I can almost feel myself inside you,” he marvels. “Color?”

It takes you a few seconds to process his question. “Green,” falls off your tongue with a whimper. But the bit of hesitation is enough for Alhaitham to stop in his tracks.

“Y/N, look at me.”

A dreamy hum on your lips, your blown out eyes meet his, and he realizes how far gone you are. “We can stop, it’s okay if we do.” But that may have been the wrong thing to say because your face falls, tears prickling your eyes. “I can do it,” you sniffle. “Please, sir.”

There is no way for him to remain unaffected by the way you address him, but he ensures to take extra care for the last few inches.

“You’re doing so well, taking all of me in. You’re keeping your promise, I’m so proud of you,” Alhaitham coos. The bottom of his shaft is just a little bit thicker, and you let out a happy squeal when your cunt stretches as much as it can to accommodate him. His tip barely grazes your cervix, and through your floaty thoughts, you almost wish it was deeper. The groan from Alhaitham as he bottoms out provides you comfort. It can only mean that you’re making him feel good, and that you did manage to have him fit inside you. So pleased with yourself, your pussy clenches around him and coaxes for more, for his cum.

If Alhaitham didn’t have better control of himself, he would’ve cum right then and there. Buried deep inside you, warm velvety walls sucking him in – it’s hard to believe that this is really happening. The person he loves is in his arms, joined with him in the most intimate way known to mankind. He never wants to leave you, leave this, yet his cock begs for friction. Your adorable whine of protest as he slides out a couple inches beckons him to return, and return he does as you let out a sound of pure satisfaction.

“Loveyou,” your words slurred together and fuzzy. “Love, love your cock, please, wan’ more, please?”

Archons, how are you so perfect for him? Alhaitham sets a steady, moderate pace and focuses on you, ensuring that you’re okay and pleased. It seems there’s a permanent grin on your face, even when you gasp or scream, and he’s determined to keep it there. When you seem completely accustomed to his pace, his strokes become longer and more indulgent. “Fuck,” you cry each time he fills you up with more and more of his cock with each stroke. His thumbs rub circles into your clit and drive you closer to your peak – you don’t know if you’re ready to cum yet, or if you want this to end. You don’t, but you’re so close–!

“Such a good girl for me – your little cunny was really made for my cock. There’s no one else for me, just you, pretty girl,” he breathes, seeing the hesitation on your face as your walls clench tighter than before. “I know you’re gonna cum soon, I want to see you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Anything he asks for, you would go to great lengths to give him what he wants. So if he wants you to cum, then you have to. You nod with a pout on your face, but Alhaitham leans forward, pushing your legs back further as he reaches to kiss the pout away. “That’s my good girl, so perfect.”

He pulls out completely, but why?

Alhaithm grabs and maintains eye contact with you for two agonizing seconds, and then commands you to, “Cum for me.”

And you do just that when he slams his entire length inside you as soon as those words leave his lips.

Alhaitham basks in your scream and sobs, your body convulsing and trembling beneath him, your walls an impossible vice around his cock. He grinds against you to go as deep as he can, “fuckfuckfuck”, and a growl buried in your neck as he cums. In your high, you think you can feel the heat and its spasms of it all, passively wondering what it would feel like to have him cum inside you without a condom. Perhaps one day you’ll be granted a nice little breeding session, but that is neither here nor there.

Alhaitham plants pecks and kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders, smiling when your little giggles reach his heart. If anything, he’s just happy that everything turned out okay and didn’t end up in a disaster like last time. As he observes the serenity gracing your complexion, he cannot contain his affection any longer.

“Thank you…for having me.” I love you.

Another giggle. “I love you, too, Haitham. A lot.”

You’re kindly gifted a most adoring eskimo kiss. “I need to get you cleaned up, so I need to pull out, okay?”

The pout returns despite your agreement, and Alhaitham spends much needed time to pull out without you breaking. The devil on his shoulder protests otherwise, as it attempts to coax him into keeping you speared on his cock for the night, or more. Your whine of loss tugs at his heartstrings and feeds into his greed, and he embraces you once more to keep you grounded. Slowly, but surely, you return to your senses. Alhaitham is heavy and sweaty against you, but it’s more than you could ask for. A few taps on his shoulder are enough to tell him that you’re back on the same plane of reality with him, and he dives in to kiss you again, painting compliments and praises of how amazing you were along your lips.

Alhaitham then sweeps you off the bed, into his arms, and takes hurried steps towards the bathroom. You’re like a delicate flower with the way he places you on the toilet, and he reminds you of the importance of peeing after sex. Your privacy is granted when he leaves to remove and tie off the condom to discard it in the kitchen trash can, and later returns with a warm, wet towel. He waits until you’re back in bed and comfortable before he tenderly wipes away any excess fluids and leaves it on your nightstand before cuddling next to you. You turn towards him and burrow into his chest, content as his arms embrace you with an air of security and protection.

He mumbles something into your hair, but you’re out before you can even think to ask what he said.

When you finally come to, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well. No tiresome dreams, no sporadically waking up in the night – weeks out in the nature with Lumine had turned you into a light sleeper, and you missed this feeling of being so well-rested.

But the soreness in your thighs screams otherwise, and you wince when they refuse to cooperate. A muscular arm rests around you as if it has always belonged there. At first you question why it’s there, but then your brain decides to wake up and remind you just exactly of what transpired last night. Despite the mixture of shock and embarrassment (mainly at just how wanton you acted), you look up from where you are buried into Alhaitham’s chest. Somehow, you’re surprised to see him already awake. Well, surprised may not be the right word. But the clear adoration in his eyes is unmistakable, seizing and pulling on your heartstrings.

Alhaitham quite enjoys watching you think and process, imagining the fine-tuned gears and cogs in your brain working in overdrive. He remains silent as he smooths out some of the tangles in your hair, and he patiently waits to hear from you. You two had already experienced many hours of quietude before, so this was nothing new for him. There are very few moments in his life when he’s felt this serene and content, half-naked and you pressed against him, both drinking in each other and the light of day coming from your window. He could get used to this. He wants to get used to this.

“You’re making me breakfast in bed,” you decide with your first words of the day, grumbling with a pout on your face. “I don’t think I can walk properly.”

The former scribe arches a perfect silver brow, but the shit-eating smirk stretching along his face is anything but confusion. He knows exactly what you’re implying, and he’s quite satisfied with himself for causing such a situation. Perhaps he should do it more often.

“That I can do,” he agrees, his morning voice deep, yet full of mirth. After a quick kiss on your forehead, he rolls out of bed to do just as you command.

The growl from your stomach prevents you from calling him back because you’re cold now. A shiver runs down your spine as you tighten the blanket and sheet around you, tucking some beneath your chin in an attempt to trap whatever warmth you have left. But when you catch a hint of Alhaitham’s lingering scent, you feel yourself immediately calm down and breathe evenly. The gentle cluttering from your kitchen provides another layer of security as well.

Lost in your basking, you’re quite startled when you feel Alhaitham’s lips on your cheek, a tray in his hands with a light, yet nutritious breakfast arranged. But as you continue to lay there, he can’t help but laugh.

“Do you need help sitting up?”

“No.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

You do, in fact, need his strength to sit up comfortably against some pillows. The embarrassment hasn’t quite worn off by the time he slides back underneath the sheets to sit next to you, an arm slung over your shoulders as you eat. But in seconds, it dissipates, and is replaced with something akin to love. For you both to finally be here, together as if you two have been dating for years, is exactly the outcome you have been wishing for.

“You know,” he starts before being interrupted by a forkful of food shoved into his mouth, courtesy of you. “You’re a perfect reason why I can finally kick Kaveh out of my home.”

You swat his shoulder with your free hand. “That’s so mean!”

“He can just move in here. I’m not that heartless to leave him homeless. Is that what you think of me?”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes.”

With the hand hanging off your shoulder, his nails scrape lightly in retaliation against the skin beneath your collar bone.

“If I recall, I was pretty fair with you last night,” he murmurs into your hair. “Perhaps I need to remind you just how fair when you’re done with breakfast.”

And you’ve never finished a meal so quickly.

fin.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 13 days

Note

ngl kinda curious what happens if mc gets shipped with one of the nobles more often than the kings instead?

You know the AO3 ship popularity chart? Let's say they did one of those for the "child of Solomon" fandom.

Mod Jjok: The most popular ship with Mc for this month is... Mc x Sitri! With over 20k words in the longest running fanfiction on the ship reaching peak popularity in the middle of the month!

Dantalian: Sitri? Isn't that his majesty Satan's blood bag?

Glasylabolas: It turns out he has a name.

Paimon: I think this must be mistakeeeeen. I just recently wrote in collaboration with Astaroth a 25k words fanfic about Mc x Satan

Eligos: Oh, I mass-reported that one. I would apologise about that, but demons can't lie

Paimon: You're so sillyyyyy

Paimon: You just lost cuteness session priveledgessss

Eligos: :'(

Eligos: It was for the greater good of Tartaros

Bimet: Very noble of you, Eligos

Dantalian: Bimet! You fucking bitch, where's my MC body pillow????

Eligos: @Dantalian please take this in private we don't vibe with this negative energy here

Dantalian: Speak for yourself, I vibe with it!

Gamigin: Guys, what happened????? I was asleep, it's like 5 AM in here.

Gamigin: HOLY FUCK

Gamigin: How did Sitri of all people win????

Paimon: I mean, he's not that baaaaaaad

Gamigin: 20k words isn't even that long! How?!

Gamigin: I think we all have to come together to break the two up

Gamigin: Sitri is a common enemy and we shall stop him!

Dantalian: I'm sharpening my knife as we speak.

Gamigin: His Majesty Lucifer said I'm not allowed to leave Paradise Lost :'(

Dantalian: And?

Gamigin: And ... what?

Dantalian: He's not your dad! Even if he was, you don't have to listen to him. Do you think I listen to everything his majesty Asmodeus tells me to do? No. He may be my dad and my king, but I am in control of my own future.

Glasylabolas: Preach brother, preach

Gamigin: But I don't want to go against Lucifer's orders

Dantalian: Pussy

Glasylabolas: Pussy

Dantalian: First! Suck it old man!

Gamigin: Wait, doesn't Paimon live in the same country as Sitri?????

Gamigin: @Paimon, dearest, could you please kill Sitri for us? At least tranquillise him or something. Make sure he doesn't move anymore.

Paimon: I'm not murdering Sitri over thisssss

Paimon: I'll just ask him if it's true he's dating Mccccc

Dantalian: I think we should vote on Sitri's fate

Glasylabolas: Absolutely. I am for democracy.

Dantalian: Knife or gun death?

Glasylabolas: I prefere knife. Gun's make everything messier. How am I supposed to get arroused by a pile of guts?

Dantalian: Ask Ronové or Phenix and they'll tell you

Dantalian: I once saw Ronové remove an angel's intenstines and fucking them

Eligos: That's why nobody wants to visit Abaddon.

Dantalian: In his defence, it was kind of hot

Glasylabolas: I can imagine

Glasylabolas: I should call Ronové again...

Dantalian: He charges for one night stands now cause Abaddon lost its health care recently

Gamigin: Yeah, Morax told me about how you started getting curious about his eye hole.

Dantalian: I don't even blame Ronové for that one. I'm also curious what happens if you cum down someone's eye socket.

Paimon: Ok guyssssss

Paimon: I talked with himmmm

Paimon: It turns out that he just had a lot of black tea recently and wrote 20k words in a dayyyyy

Paimon: And a lot of people read it because Asteroth recomended it on his bloggggg

Dantalian: ah, yeah, shipping

Dantalian: Asmodeus x Mc for the win

Eligos: In your dreams

Dantalian: Yes. I do dream about that often.

Dantalian: I don't even know why y'all care so much for Mc's sex life

Dantalian: Having sex with only one partner is boring

Gamigin: Keep your shitty opinions to yourself.

Dantalian: Only if you make me

Eligos: I'm going to mass report it

Gamigin: I already did <3

Sitri: All of you are so mean

[Mod Jjok stopped comments on this post]

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb gamigin #whb paimon #whb eligos #whb glasylabolas #whb dantalian #whb bimet #whb sitri #shipper au

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dragondevinity · 8 months

Text

This one might as well be apart of my story and it’s basically guaranteed to be the case but here’s the thing…

It’s 201 years before traveler wakes up and starts his journey….

Y/n arrives at Fontaine, and you know what ends up happening? She ends up trying to adopt all the melusines, yeah let’s just say Neuvillette and Focalors weren’t very happy… here’s what went down…

Neuvillette: do you know why you’re in the court today?

Y/n: no-

Focalor: you are here because you tried to adopt the Melusines…

Y/n: true-

Focalor: and you tried to physically fight Neuvillette for custody….

Y/n: maybe-

Focalors: you are hereby banned from Fontaine for 200 years…

Neuvillette: wait she’ll be dead by then-

Focalors: yes that’s the idea-

Y/n: ‘I’m going to keep my mouth shut now’

Focalors: someone please drop this woman off at the borders!

And so y/n got banned from Fontaine for 200 years…

201 years later when Traveler is in court for some reason, y/n bursts through the fucking door…

Y/n: I’m back bitches~!

Focalors: oh fuck yes someone entertaining!

Neuvillette: oh shit she’s back…

Y/n: did you miss me~!!

Focalors: I’m really happy to see you y/n! Sorry for banning you from Fontaine for 200 years!

Y/n: it’s fine I shouldn’t have tried to adopt the Melusines, or try to fight Neuvillette…

Paimon: wAIT WHAT?!?!??!!

Traveler: first everything that’s already happened… now this shit…

Neuvillette on the verge of a panic attack: celestia please no! Just noooo!!!!

Yeah that was a day no one that witnessed it could forget, oh yeah Xiao and Venti were watching both baffled and amazed at this…

Lol that’s the whole thing! Might rewrite this at a later date when I actually get to this part of the actual story! Have a great day!

#sagau #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #neuvillette

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sinner-sunflower · 2 months

Text

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 5/?

PART 1 , PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Shirtless Luci omo

Leviathan in my head is the green and gray guy from that one picture Luci has in his workshop. The one that looks kinda like an inverted him.

I wanna say that Zestial's dialogue was put thru chatgpt cos English is not even my first language, ain't no way in hell I'm doin that manually kalsjdlka

This took me too long to write. I miss writing Belphegor's dialogues.

Likes, Reblogs, And especially Comments are soooooo appreciated <3 <3

--------------------------------------------

Lucifer's show and tell earned him looks varying from worry to disgust.

Lucifer: This is done by something ancient, as old as God himself. It was the reason for the First Heavenly War.

Asmodeus: Wait, Lucifer. Are you telling me this is Roo?!

Mammon: Bloody hell, didn't we seal that bitch for good?

Leviathan: Luci, are you sure?

Lucifer merely looks back to Belphegor.

Belphegor: Very. Although we casted a very powerful seal, her energy sometimes leaks out. Nothing major.

Beelzebub: What makes this different?

Belphegor: I.. do not have an answer to that as of now. We can attempt to cast a seal again but the power of the Sins will not be enough. We need every bit of high power Hell has.

Lucifer: I wouldn't have called you all here otherwise.

Zestial raises their hand to interject.

Zestial: Prithee, pardon, my liege. But who be this Roo thou dost mention?

Lucifer: The Root of All Evil. Don't know how it came to be in the first place. In the war, it got weakened enough for God to banish it to a dark pit that is now Hell. But after I gave humanity the fruit of knowledge... it regained power. The Sins and I barely managed to weaken it again to seal it below Sloth. We were incapacitated for a long time.

He catches his daughter's eyes.

Lucifer: It took each of us close to a century to recover.

Carmila: If I may, your majesty- us overlords cannot afford to lose our power- especially for as long as you said.

Zestial: Carmila speaketh true. Thou art the loftiest powers of hell, sin incarnate. And his majesty hath the blood of angels. If it hath drained thee so deeply, envision its effect upon a mere mortal soul.

A certain TV overlord let out indignant laugh.

Vox: Are you serious? You think we'll let ourselves lose power for this shit show?

Paimon: You would think before you badmouth your king, sinner!

Lucifer moves to sit on the table, propping up a leg to rest his elbow on. He didn't bother to button his shirt back on- these demons can use the reminder.

Lucifer: You can do whatever you want. I gave you free will, didn't I?But, do remember- death reaps from the bottom first. You are free to go as you please.

The Vees stand up first, muttering curses under their breaths.

Valentino: Ugh! I knew we shouldn't have come. A waste of fuckin-

The moth overlord was cut off by his own screams the moment he passed through the door.

At the same time, Angel Dust doubled over, hand clutching his throat as he coughed violently.

Husk and the others went closer in concern, willing Angel to breath slow while also asking him what's wrong.

Valentino stops screaming as he is held by Vox and Velvette. The Goetia's look on in curiosity while the other sinners all stood up in surprise.

Angel, still holding his throat, gasps.

Angel: No way.

Husk: Angel?? Are you okay?!

Angel let out a single chuckle that slowly turned into maniacal laughter.

Husk: Kid, you're scarin' me.

Angel: I'm free.

Husk: What?

Angel: I'm fuckin' free!

Angel continues to laugh some more while the sinner put two and two together.

Valentino: What the fuck did you do?!

The overlord shouted a the king.

Lucifer: Oh right! So that's what I forgot.

The Sins began to snicker behind their King as Valentino become even angrier. The rest of the overlords who were planning to leave as well are now rooted in place.

Velvette: You can't just do that! You said we could leave! The fuck happened to free will?!

Lucifer: And why not? You all can leave and not help. I won't stop you. But I am gonna be taking all the soul contracts you have. A small price to pay for staying in the safety of your own home while we risk our lives, no?

The lights of the hotel began to flicker as the aura around Lucifer and the Sins darken, 7 pairs of glowing menacing eyes and smiles show.

The entire room freezes, petrified at the horrifying image they are seeing in front of them.

Lucifer: Or did you forget?

The Devil grins.

Lucifer: You're in my house, bitch.

--------------------------------------------

Might not update over the weekend. Most likely Monday again!

What to look forward for in Part 5:

Satan: Even with all of us, you know it won't be enough. Unless.. Can you even find her?

Lucifer: I don't know.

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o0aj0o · 6 months

Text

Mc is so real for this

But no seriously lets talk about my husband Paimon. Ever wanted a dom mommy AND femboy? Well merry Christmas, bitch. Paimon is so far one of my favorites right next to dog boy Leraye and Bimet (the 7th Kardashian). Paimon is a bestie that'll fuck you silly and he's got crazy fashion sense (Peep the Louis V purse). He also likes blood and probably slurps tampons in his free time or some shit but thats ok we don't kinkshame here!-

Oohh nooo....

We only SOMETIMES kinkshame here. Anyways, spoiler alert, you guys have a little privacy together, as you do with every other demon in this godforsaken dimension. (No, seriously, was Solomon just getting his back blown out every hour of the day? I NEED to know. ) Anyways, without spoiling the fun of chapter 3, I won't get into it.

What makes it even better is that our sweet prince is from Gehenna, aka the ROMANTIC demon country, as told by ppyong in some sweet ch 3 lore. From what Ppyong told us, devils in Gehenna tend to be about that shit. Weddings are their fucking bread and butter. In fact, the H in Gehenna stands for 'holy matrimony'. That means Paimon is most likely willing to lock your shit down.

And i just LOVE that for us. Anyways, I'm done rambling. I'm not the type of bitch to have shit to say. Just know Paimon is better than the best of us.

#whb #what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#wbh paimon #paimon #appreciation

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gold-rhine · 1 year

Text

Sub! Ayato x Dom! gn reader

Warnings: not safe for work or minors, edging, bondage, overstimulation, slight degradation, power play, anal sex, spanking. I’m gonna mostly say “cock” for the reader, but it stands for both cock and strap, it’s just unwieldy to specify every time and I usually call strap “cock” irl anyway.

Words: 4k

A\n: repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned

Ayato is the biggest pillow princess out there. The entitlement on this one.

A connoisseur, seeks the thrill of new combinations of exciting experiences, both physical and mental, but is also a brat. Not in a usual sense of being deliberately antagonistic and difficult, it’s just that if you don’t keep him in check, he will steamroll you with sheer demanding presence, all with a pleasant little smile.

He wants to be surprised and lose control, but also has a compulsive need to plan and manipulate everything from the backstage. So he’s a handful for sure. If you’re into his kind of mind games, he can be exquisite like no one else, but he’s so high-maintenance, just energy and attention-wise, constantly testing your willpower.

“A luxury few can afford” meme, but it's on a diamond-encrusted choker.

You know how his story quest just stops dead to have a Boba Tea Interlude, where he orders tea with the weirdest ingredients and everyone around is openly disgusted? And they could’ve stopped the joke here, but no.

Ayato goes on to have a whole discussion about the nature of pleasure with Paimon, who is btw entirely out of her depth and can only master “Ugh?? Food should taste good?”

And this mf proceeds to argue that actually, things that just straightforwardly feel good are boring. And it’s better to experiment and seek out new interesting experiences that push your limits, even if they end up not feeling good. And those things that don’t feel good, but in interesting and exciting ways, are better than straightforward good-feeling.

Like, just say you’re into kink and stop confusing poor Paimon. You don’t have to give a whole ass philosophical speech about wanting exciting things that feel bad to be inflicted upon you.

And he likes obedience, sure. A nice service top who just does everything he wants entirely according to a pre-approved script is probably his comfort zone.

But you know what’s a fun thing to do with a bossy brat like him? Tease him. Throw him off his script. Wipe that mild, confident, slightly bored smile off his face and see genuine emotions. See him come undone.

Also, you know he’s so used to being indulged. The experience of being challenged, loss of control, the inability to predict what’s gonna happen next is going to feel much more exciting than a bad-tasting boba tea.

Like, his only friend outside of the circle of people actively dependent on him, like Ayaka and Thoma, is Itto, the most irreverent delinquent in the city. And sure, Ayato tries to minimize the connection in his voice line (bc he’s a fake bitch), but from Itto’s line it’s clear that they are in continuous contact. They are actively hanging out, all the while Ayato doesn’t disclose his station.

Ayato found one dude in the entire city who doesn’t know who he is and is not gonna bow down to him. In fact, he’s gonna treat him in a way that would be considered scandalously rude for a head of the commission. But they are playing Magic the Gathering at a local McDonalds while Yashiro ninjas keep the cashier at a knifepoint so he doesn’t accidentally expose who Ayato really is to Itto.

He obviously wants to be seen for something else than the social image he created when he had to become the leader of his clan. He had to be so tightly wound up and in control all the time, impeccable and untouchable, or not only him, but his closest people would pay the price. Of course he wants to be able to let go, to feel human and imperfect, but accepted with the imperfections nonetheless. He just doesn’t know how, since he’s been living in nothing but a PR performance since he was a young teen.

Unless he’s literally forced to.

Ayato is never gonna admit that he wants to be put in his place, but he will certainly enjoy it.

Specifics-wise, I'm getting strong bondage vibes. Especially rope bondage, shibari knots. Popular choice for the pillow princesses in general, and rope instead of handcuffs gives both interesting texture and flexibility, you can change it up in many ways from session to session to keep it fresh.

But honestly, that’s details. What’s important is the mind games. The power play. The exciting stakes, even if inside of play. The rollercoaster of ups and downs. The push and pull of an invisible leash will matter much more than the physical one.

He’s so casual and calm when you start tying him up, even though he’s already naked. Sometimes you tie him in his clothes ruffled, halfway undone, but today you want his bare skin. You start with his chest and shoulders, and the purple rope looks amazing against his pale flesh.

Nudity doesn’t make him vulnerable though. He stands there languid, loose and long-limbed, follows your instructions to move his hands back so you can tie them with poise and elegance, like he’s getting an expensive suit tailored. Sometimes, you’d want to break his posture, throw him on the floor and fuck him until he’s a screaming mess, and only then finish the bondage.

There are always so many options to consider with Ayato.

But today you want to play the longer prelude. You know that the slow, almost ritualistic adjusting of the ropes over his body winds him up even if he doesn’t show it.

You work on tying his hands behind his back, then move to his torso. The ropes over ribs and stomach don’t actually hold much, but by god, they look pretty, the rhombs in the center and the violet lines going across his taut muscles.

You move deliberately slowly, handling him with long practiced firmness and effectiveness, except for the fleeting moments when your fingers linger, lightly trace the lines of his body, but leave before he can even react. A stroke from his sharp collarbones to the shoulders, a flick on the pink nipples, a caress across the sculpted abs.

This is a game where you almost pretend to be professional, and he almost keeps up the indifference. It’s a shaky pyramid of glass, barely balancing on the edge, the anticipation of waiting for exactly when it’ll fall down and shatter into tiny pieces.

The fun part about this is watching his cock hardening with your every move, how it slowly grows from soft to aroused, pointing up on his stomach. He can pretend to be indifferent all he wants, you have the evidence of how much he needs this right there.

He watches you intensely, even if it’s only in half-glances, his upper body is already covered in an intricate, beautiful harness.

“Lean against the table and lift your leg, please”, you direct him to the high table beside the bed and he obeys with the same casual confidence. You tie his ankle to his thigh, moving the rope across the tender, sensitive skin of the inner thigh, and watch his cock twitch and redden. You then continue to fix his bent leg with ropes so that it’s pushed sideways and keeps his thigh open, working slow, methodical. He’s almost fully hard by the time you’re done.

“Violet really is your color,” you say casually, and slide the rope between his legs, under his balls and between his asscheeks. “Really brings out your eyes.”

His hips flinch, his cock fully erect now, but his voice is even and mild when he answers, “So nice of you to approve.”

It’s a stalemate of sorts, who is going to expose themselves first, but you have the advantage of not being naked, tied, and unable to close your legs. The chances are in your favor even against the calculating Yashiro commissioner.

You smile and lay your hand on his hipbone. He expects you to move to his dick and when you don’t, glances down and back up at your face in a politely hidden frustration.

“I’d prefer to continue this on the proper bed,” he says, still calmly, but with an insistent undercurrent in his tone, like a VIP client demanding a luxury section of the restaurant.

The fucking entitlement. Exactly what you were waiting for.

“Oh,” you smile, deceptively soft and lift your hand to stroke his sharp cheekbones. “You’d prefer the bed?”

He senses the shift in your tone, his muscles tightening, but he doesn’t flinch away. Not just entitled, but so self-assured too.

“Yes,” he answers, holding up your gaze. “I think it’d be beneficial to the both of us.”

You smile wider, from soft to mocking, “I wasn’t aware of your priorities,” your voice is calm, but when you swipe your thumb across his lips, it’s harsh, applying enough pressure to force his mouth open.

Your other hand finally grabs his cock, roughly, sending a jolt through his entire body. You stroke him and slide your fingers down between his legs, cup his balls and then move farther, to his tight hole, to show that everything he has is open to you.

“I was under the impression that you want to be fucked,” you say, looking into his eyes and he breathes out through the mouth you’re still keeping open.

You smile again and remove your hand from between his legs. “But apparently you just want the bed. Perhaps I should just leave you there alone like this.”

His eyes are stormy violet, but his body leans so receptively against you, shudders with obvious need. The tip of his cock is leaking pearly precum.

“I never said that,” he answers with strained tightness in his voice.

You sigh and lean into him, pressed close enough to feel him struggling not to arch into you, and tenderly kiss his lower lip, then the tiny mole under it.

“Then stop making demands or I’ll shut your pretty mouth.”

He looks so scandalized, it’d be funny if it wasn’t so hot. His mouth *is* really pretty, especially half-open and breathing heavily like this. It’s a challenge, almost a dare. ‘Oh, you think this is bad? Just wait for what I do next’.

You don’t tell him that, though. Why ruin a nice surprise.

You step back a little, grab him, turn him around and throw him roughly over the table, enjoying his shocked gasp. The elegant porcelain vase that was standing on the edge falls down and breaks, delicate petals of white camellias that were kept there scattering on the floor. You press your hand between Ayato’s shoulderblades, keeping him in place when he struggles to move, and hoist his tied leg up on the table, forcing him to balance on his free leg, his ass entirely exposed. He glares angrily at you over the shoulder, his cheek pressed to the table, but you just smile and arch your eyebrow expectantly, looking over him splayed like that in front of you.

It sends shivers to his core, the rough handling, demeaning exposure of being bent over the desk like a common whore, the anticipation of being used, but not knowing how exactly… But he will try to keep up the appearances even like that.

“This was an expensive vase”, he says flatly.

You lean down, still smiling, and close your hand over his dick, squeeze painfully so that he arches, his thighs shudder. “More expensive than this cock?”

“...No,” he finally lets out, strained.

“Then I can afford it,” you tell him with a smirk and watch with satisfaction an angry blush appearing on his cheeks. It’s only the beginning, though. Time to escalate.

You move away and and soon come back, catching his jaw and forcing a gag into his mouth. His indignant protests are muffled, but still loud enough.

“What’s wrong, your Highness?” you ask pleasantly, looking into his stormy eyes and stroking the exposed curve of his asscheek while he writhes in front of you. “I told you I’ll shut your mouth if you make demands, so you thought you can keep talking back at me if you don’t technically demand anything, because you’re so clever?”

You can see in his affronted glare that it’s exactly what he thought. You grin at him and slap the skin you were just caressing. He yelps, a sound choked by the gag, tries to move, but you press your hand against the back of his neck, pinning him to the table, as you keep laying blows across his ass and thighs. His flesh is so pale and tender, a true aristocrat, it turns a bright red immediately, in gorgeous contrast with the dark ropes.

When he shuts his eyes, long lashes squeezed tightly, and his grunts turn from protesting to shaky, you start alternating pain with caresses. You stroke the skin that is still stinging from a hit a second ago, slide your fingers between his legs to cup his balls, grab his painfully hard, leaking dick. The noises he makes, tiny muffled half-gasps, half-moans, are delicious. He bucks his hips as you twist the sensitive head of his cock with one hand and strike his ass with the other. This time his moan is loud, needy.

“So nice of you to approve,” you say teasingly and reach for the lube. You pour it on your fingers and press them against his hole. He tenses in anticipation, you see the muscles of his tied arms strain against the ropes. You start massaging his entrance and run your free hand over the sharp knobs on his spine.

“Relax,” you tell him softly and slide your fingers inside. Shudder runs through his body, his back arching, forehead pressed to the table and hair falling to cover his face. You lean down to kiss a small mole on the back of his shoulder, your fingers working inside of him, opening him up, hitting the sweet spot until he whimpers, his hips twitching under you. You lightly bite his shoulder and with your free hand you grab the criss-crossed ropes on his back and pull them slowly, making them taut, pressed harshly against his skin, so that he moans hoarsely, clenches around your fingers. You fuck him faster and faster, watch how the trembling turns into writhing and moans grow louder.

“Are you already close, your Highness?” you hook your fingers inside him, and he arches deliriously, exquisitely, thrusting into your hand. You can tell that he’s on the edge and you slap his ass harshly.

“Come on, cum for me then,” you tell him and drag your nails over his sensitive, stinging flesh. He comes with a long, shaky scream barely muffled by the gag, and goes limp under your hands.

You take your fingers out of his ass and gag out of his mouth, and smile, looking at his trembling form sprawled on the table.

“I’m sorry, did you say something? I didn’t quite get it.”

He coughs a little, his throat dry from screaming, breathing heavily through his mouth to regain his composure, then swallows harshly and licks his lips.

“My title is not “Highness”,” he finally says, meeting your eyes, his voice a little hoarse, but still haughty. You can’ help but smile. He couldn’t very well say he screamed because he loved how you fucked him, but there’s no one else who could be bent over the table and fucked like that, turned into a screaming, writhing mess, and then still glare at you with this dignified primness, all the while with his ass still exposed and arched up.

“Why not?” you turn him over and pull him up by the rope harness on his chest, so that he’s standing up face to face with you.

“I’m not a prince, obviously,” he says calmly, rolling his eyes just so, and you chuckle, catch his chin and trail kisses down his jawline teasingly, your body pressed flat against him.

“You are to me,” you tell him, grinning, and this earns a fond, surprised chuckle from him. You kiss his smiling mouth, and he answers eagerly back, his tongue sliding against yours, his body arching in your hands.

Ayato doesn’t really have a praise kink, but he loves to be complimented and feel special for the reasons other than his heritage or political status, especially from the people who otherwise treat him as equal. The pointed irreverence is what makes the endearment count.

“I’ll even get you to the bed, isn’t it a royalty treatment that you wanted?” you tell him, breaking the kiss, turn him and push him down, so that he falls on the bed next to the table. He lands on the mass of pillows, and grins with a smug satisfaction, a cat that’s gotten what he wanted.

It’s worth getting him to the bed for the view alone, though. He’s insanely gorgeous, sprawled on the dark silk like that, pale sculpted body against the sleek black of the sheets, managing to look both elegant and ravished, the red marks from your touch decadently obscene on his tender skin, light hair looking even better when disheveled. The temptation to just fuck him right there, wreck him immediately, roughly, is immense.

But that’s obviously what he wants. He knows how exquisite he is, the honed, cherished masterpiece, the way he looks at you from under half lowered eyelids, languorous, confident, not even as much demanding, as sure you won’t be able to resist him.

Is he worth the trouble? Gods yes. But it doesn’t mean you’ll play along to his tune.

You kneel over him, kiss his soft, expectant lips, run your hands over him greedily. You move your mouth down, to claim what’s eagerly offered to you, the arch of his neck, the slopes of his delicate collarbones, the broad chest, heavily rising as he breathes feverishly, pink nipples, hardened under your caress, sculpted abs and carved hipbones.

He’s throbbing hard when you get down there, but you don’t touch his dick. You reach for the rope and start tying his free leg in the same position, ankle to the thigh.

He groans in frustration, rolls his head back on the silken pillows, he’s breathing heavily, impatient. You kiss the line from his exposed inner thigh to the tender juncture where his leg meets the torso, and finish up the knots. He trembles under your touch, arches as much as he can, fixated as he is.

You raise from the bed and step back, admiring your handiwork. He’s splayed on the bed, thighs forced open, shoulders slightly drawn back and chest arched due to his hands being tied behind his back, his gorgeous long cock is throbbing hard, violet ropes drawn over his body like the edges on the luminous stained glass, he’s breathing feverishly from his parted, swollen mouth, silver-blue hair falling around his face like a tangled halo, his eyes a wild, delirious lavender.

You sit back in a chair and watch over him with a smile, as he struggles and finally lets out, huskily. “What are you waiting for?”

“I remember we had an agreement. I get you to the bed and leave you there by yourself,” you say, smirking, and meet his angry glare.

“You wouldn’t,” he grits out.

“Why not?”

“You wouldn’t…” he stops himself, takes a deep breath, licking his lips, realizing that saying ‘You wouldn’t dare’ could only spur you on. “What would you gain from it?”

He really thinks that fucking him is the limit of human aspirations. You smile teasingly.

“Oh, for a start, I’d enjoy immensely watching you writhe and beg desperately like a common slut, my princeling. Maybe I’ll roll you onto a pillow and tease you until you start humping it like a dog.”

His eyes widen, horrified, breath catching in his throat at the imagined humiliation. Oh, this is too good. You should absolutely do it to him. But not today. Let him stew in this thought, be both aroused when he thinks about it afterwards and appalled at his own desire, let him wait with a baited breath if you do it to him for the next few sessions, be both relieved and - secretly - a little disappointed that you don’t. Then you can spring it on him when he least expects this.

It always pays off to play the long game with Ayato.

You don’t show your decision though, sitting impassively yet, watching him squirm.

“Don’t do it,” he breezes out, looking you in the eyes, biting his lip, almost anxiously for someone always so confident as him.

“Convince me then,” you tell him with a smirk, move to sit on the edge of the bed, looming over him, but not touching.

“Please,” he manages, strained. “I’m so close. Let me finish.”

You scoff, lean down and run your thumb over his cheekbones teasingly. He trembles nonetheless, too overstimmed and wound up, raw and sensitive to every touch, his eyes hazy from desire, his breath laborious.

“Is that the best you can do? Is this your famed eloquence? If so, it’s not giving me much motivation.”

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, licks his dry lips. When he meets your eyes again, he doesn’t look necessarily calm or collected, but focused, determined, his raw hunger sharpened into a thin cutting edge.

“Please, I want you to fuck me,” he says, his voice deep, low, shameless, almost purring. “Take me, fuck me hard, wreck me, I beg of you. I am yours to use.”

You can barely restrain yourself to let him finish the sentence before you claim his mouth. You move to position yourself between his legs and slide your strap\cock into him, slowly, but forcefully, in one long thrust. He arches under you and you drink a sweet, shuddering moan from his lips. You fuck him hard, quickening the pace, gripping the ropes that are digging into his hips, and his moans turn into erratic, desperate screams, his head lolling back helplessly

You lean down to him, slide your hand into his hair and tug, forcing him to expose his throat, close your other hand over his leaking cock, feel him choke on his breath and tremble feverishly, his open, tied legs shaking.

“That’s right, come for me, baby,” you tell into his ear, his soft hair tickling your face as he leans into you. You roll your hips, cock buried deep inside him, and squeeze his dick. “Let me see you fall apart.”

He comes, crying out against your skin, trying desperately to thrust into your hand. You stroke him through it until pleasure becomes blinding as the pain and he starts trashing under you, whimpering incoherent pleas, completely unraveled.

He goes limp when you slide out of him and get to untying the ropes. You get to the knots on his upper back when he turns to you over the shoulder, catches your mouth in a softly tired, lazy kiss.

“How are you?” you ask, undoing the last knots. “Limbs didn’t fall asleep?”

“No, I’m fine,” he says mildly, but his fingers close on your forearm, asking you to stay close a little longer. You circle your arm around his shoulders in reassurance and he leans into you. You kiss his temple softly, and he smells of expensive perfume, sweat and an incoming summer rain, that didn’t yet catch you, but already echoes in the wind.

You glance down at him, because he is too quiet, and sure enough, he’s thinking. And not just thinking, his lips are pressed, eyelids half-closed, but tight around the corners, brows furrowed just so. Oh no. This is the Strategizing face.

“Ayato, don’t do your fucking deluge thing or I swear to fucking gods! No, it’s not a suitable substitute for a shower, you absolute…”

“I wasn’t going to!” he laughs with an exaggeratedly affronted look, breaking the concentration. “You made your opinion perfectly clear last time, no need to yell at me again.”

“Then what are you scheming about?”

He doesn’t try to deny that he’s scheming.

“I want you to choke me next time,” he says matter of factly.

“We’ve discussed this before. Your skin is too tender, marks are going to be too obvious.”

“I’m going to get a high-collared outfit.”

“Do they even make collars that go right under the chin?”’

“Of course they don’t,” he scoffs. “I will get one custom-ordered.”

You laugh. “Of course you will, your Highness. Is there going to be a new fashion trend in Inazuma city because the Yashiro commissioner really wants to have his pretty throat choked?”

“It’s a good look anyway, so I don’t see the problem. As a fallback option, there are some suitable paints I can get from our festival supplies. And of course, if all else fails I can always blame it on the assassination attempt.”

“I wish you were more careful about the assassins than the custom-made collars.”

“I don’t even get that many assassins these days,” he shrugs dismissively with one shoulder, the other pressed against you. “Just a few Fatui strugglers, grasping at the straws. They are bound to run out soon.”

“I still don’t know if you’ve planned this thoroughly enough,” you tease him. “What if you cause an international diplomatic incident by accusing the Fatui of trying to kill you by choking and spanking your ass?”

You catch a sharp elbow under your ribs, but it’s worth it.

#rhine writes #rhine writes filth #sub genshin #genshin smut #sub ayato #dom reader #ayato smut #ayato

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

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I have so many ideas but none of them can be put into words, all I can do is just wheeze as they come along🤣

Also remember how wordy and flowery Teyvat speech/dialogue is? ADD THAT TO THE FACT THAT TEYVAT HAS ITS OWN LANGUAGE---

Reader can understand the basic speech which is why they are so blunt (I love this idea so much 🤣) and can piece together an idea what the person is talking about.

*insert random person talking about a commission with a long ass backstory*

Traveller & Co.: *understands completely and making plans to retrieve said commission*

C!Reader: (They said they had a cart.... a bunch of hilichurls appeared... dancing?.... they want us to dance fight the hilichurls???? Dance off???)

Actual story->The person's cart got ambushed by a group of hilichurls and taunted them by dancing around it.

....... it doesnt always translate well

Also imagine Reader heaeing random names and overthinks it as a word instead of a name.

Example: Pantalone means pants in Philippine English (sorry not sorry Pantalone)

Tsaritsa??? Oh do they speak russian there??? - reader

Capitano -> captain in some countries

(I once mistake Sandrone as Sandalone and I just went "... ehh??? Standalone? Sandalone as in Sand Alone???? Sandal (Flip flops)????

Oh wait its Sandrone" ".... as in Sand and Drone??--)

-Vine Boom

VINE BOOM ANON MY BELOVED 💖❤🧡💛💚💙💜✨️✨️

Gif is me writing u anything ever:

AHFLALA FERRRALLL I STG I ALSO THOUGHT ABT THIS!! WHY U COULD ALSO BE BLUNT BC U ONLY GOT THE BASICS 💀 RIP

Man theyre written language looks so scary to learn, kinda like when I looked into trying to learn Mandarin/Japanese (and even Korean), the letters r just inherently so different i was so intimidated

And u dont even read it like left -> right like English

Omg i tried to reply to a arabic comment on my art post once, and i felt so acommplished when i finally was able to type "اشكرك (thanks)" but like, i had to put it on the OTHER SIDE OF THE TEXT BOX, LIKE ALIGN IT TO THE RIGHT INSTEAD OF HOW U KNOW ENGLISH IS INHERENTLY ALIGNED LEFT, IT WAS SO TRIPPY-

Going thru genshin life only understanding minimal words of anything anyone says is honestly how i feel like ive been playing Genshin LMAO

Those analysis videos/lore are saving a bitch's life out here

PANTALONE IS ALSO RLLY CLOSE TO SPANISH FOR PANTS I KNOW WHAT U MEANNN LOL

UR ENDLESS CONFUSION FOR SANDRONE PLEASE ANON U DIDNT EVEN GET IT RIGHT THE FIRST CORRECTION IT JUST KEPT GETTING WORSEEE 😂😭 SAME THO

That would literally be you in genshin tho, like i could easily see it being like, back to back misunderstandings 😭😭

Like u think u got it right (Oh so his name is Rex Lapis, wait what? Morax? Ok his name is Morax...?? What??? Zhongli??? WHO IS THIS MAN-)

JFC first they gotta have a whole different language (like u saw in game)

And ON TOP OF THAT THEY CAN TALK FOR 10 MIN STRAIGHT ABT THE WEATHER OR SOME SHIT??

No... just, no.

U quickly decide u like what little bits of language u could pick up so far, which just results in,

U guessed it, simple speech and short fragmented sentences (or broken Teyvatian)

U cant even bring urself to care when u give half the characters a heart attack and send the rest into laughing fits

No fucks given, they wanna make this extra hard on u by being wordy on top of a new language,

Yeah u dont care what comes out of ur mouth anymore

Also, since everybody is raised in Teyvat very few ppl dont know the language, which once again brings us back to ancient/older deities/creatures who have a more simplistic version/outdated version of modern language

Omg getting stuff mistranslated bc u cant understand it all/only keywords sounds like hell but also rlly funny

Traveler/Paimon: "Alright, yes, all is well. We will accept this comission, and depart soon."

You: "...they want us to?? Dance fight?? Hilichurls...???"

Traveler just stares at u half in pity, half trying to hide their amused smile, Paimon is giggling

The commissioner is shook bc a supposed ancient creature?? Just accepted?? Their simple commission?? And u think they want u to dance battle???

PLEASE U MISTRANSLATE THE HARBINGERS NAMES RIGHT TO THEIR FACES

Signora: "You shall rue the day you crossed the Fatui mortals!"

You: "Lady we don't care, just fight us."

(Signora just means 'Lady')

Signora: *offended gasp*

Traveler/Paimon trying to stifle laughter

Raiden Shogun jaw dropped a little

Pantalone: "What a pleasure to finally meet you traveler, and thine wonderful companions!" *little bastard smile*

You: "And it was awful to meet you, Pants."

Pantalone: 😶😧😡 "Pants?! HOW DARE YOU NOT EVEN GIVE ME THE MOST BASE RESPECT, AFTER I GREETED THEE SO KINDLY-"

Oh its so funny, everytime you talk about Childe you always phrase it like he's an actual child bc u thought everyone was just calling him a little kid for some reason (u dont know how Teyvat ages work, he could be for all you know!)

Not very long, but Vine Boom anon your brain >>>>

Ur ideas r so on point, i love them sm

That makes perfect sense why u could be talking blunt too, like an in world explanation really

For you, all the desserts🥰 🤲🍪🍨🍰🍮🧋🍦🍡

Cheers,

🌒🌊🌧Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

#vine boom anon ilysm #yall r so funny i cant keep up help #big brain anons #genshin impact #ask box open #genshin sagau #my asks #sagau #genshin sagau ideas #gender neutral reader #genshin imagines #please send asks #:)#<3 #genshin isekai #genshin god reader

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dat-bruv-person · 1 year

Text

*ೃ༄ self-aware!scara!

a/n: I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE OF YALL BITCHES JUST LIED TO ME, AND TOLD ME, "I HATE SCARAMOUCHE AND TO SHOULD HATE HIM TOO." I ENDED UP LOVING THAT NIGGA!!

gn!reader, poc!reader friendly <3

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Self-aware!Scara who had heard much about you just from chatting with Aether and Lumine when you were offline. You seemed so... nice. You loved the travellers and Paimon more than all your characters since you had spoiled them to bits with godly artifacts and had managed to permanently equip the tiny fairy to accompany you on your Genshin adventures. What kind of person were you really though? Did you manipulate them into idolising you? Were you a cruel being offline? So many questions... There was only one way to find out: he had to come home.

Now, Self-aware!Scara is a stubborn one. It took 85 pulls for him to come plus another 27 for his weapon. Goodness was that tedious... No matter, he was here. Finally! Time to see what kind of secrets you were hiding. Oh. You leveled him up to 79 and his weapon to 80; spent an ungodly amount of time and effort on him and admired his idle animation... It seemed that you were actually genuine. Wow.

Okay so... Scrap all that doubtful attitude from earlier: my guy worships you. No joke. He's such a cheeky one, and your first conversation with him went from awkward to you two gossiping like old friends with the travelers. That didn't mean he's not mean though, he is a bit rude from time to time. Self-aware!Scara runs around finding random rocks to use his ult on and crit on a beetle in Sumeru, dealing 400k. It just leaves you... puzzled. Like, why? He could've beaten the Raiden Shogun with that, but he chose to crush a bug. He's an odd one, for sure.

But he's your odd one ;)

#ainsley writes #genshin x gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x black reader #genshin x poc!reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #sagau fluff #sagau scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x gn reader #sagau x gender neutral reader #sagau x gn reader #sagau x reader

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froggowivdagudvibes · 6 months

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So uh.. venti hc:

I think venti would be claustrophobic. Like, to the point that being in like a 4×4m space would make him really quite uncomfortable. It would be fine if theres ppl there, or at least he can more or less hold it together around others to a point, but yeah.

Cuz hes the god of freedom, and- actually no that abt it. But still.

Maybe smt like this (under the cut) would be how it was discovered by the dvalin gang (yk who i mean), when they wandering around old mond before the battle with dvalin.

Imagine like:

"Heyy, look what Paimon found!" Paimon's voice echoed through a gap in the ruins, about the size of a tiny door. Her head poked out of the hole. "It's bigger inside, and look at all this stuff!!"

The traveller wandered over, curious as to what Paimon had found, and Jean and Diluc followed. Venti, however, hesitated, looking rather uneasy at the sight.

"Venti, come on - there's all kinds of old artifacts and weapons in here..." The traveller trailed off, her and Jean already in the cave with paimon. Diluc was peering in through the gap, too tall to fit.

Curiosity got the better of the bard, and he forced himself to peek inside, but to his suprise a pair of arms reached out and pulled him in.

"Look at this," the traveller said, dragging him right in then turning back to the sword she had been studying.

Everyone was captivated by the abundance of ancient relics from old mond.

But not Venti.

He couldn't move, couldn't breath.

Paimon lied -

it wasn't bigger on the inside.

The walls were closing in on him, and all he could do was stand there. But be wouldn't be standing long - his legs were about to give way under him. And he could do nothing. He was trapped.

"...Venti?" Jean's voice was faint, drowned out by his quickening pulse, echoing through his head. "Venti, are you ok??" Still no response. She was really worried now.

Diluc spoke up - "Bring him out here."

"Right, yes." She said, taking his arm and guiding him out. He stumbled, his breathing quick and shallow. The traveller and Paimon followed them out, realising the situation.

As soon as the harsh winds surrounding old Mond hit his face, his breathing steadied a little. He sat on a rock, and after a moment to realise what just happened, buried his face in in hands, half out of relief and half out of embarrassment.

"...what just happened? Are you ok?" The traveller asked him"

"I-I... I'm sorry, It– the walls - it was so small a-and the... I couldn't—"

"Hey, breath," Jean put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down, but only succeeding in making him jump slightly.

"I'm not... I'm not one for small spaces, I..."

"You're claustrophobic?" Diluc chimed in again.

"Y-yeah. Yes, right, that... that's the word." That took the traveller by suprise. They hadn't known him for long, but one thing they knew was that he really wasn't the type to forget words, or stumble over his sentences for that matter.

He took a few deep breaths and, calmer now, stood up, apologising.

He knew his reaction had only been worsened by the tense atmosphere of old Mondstadt. He had been on edge since they first stepped foot there, flashbacks of war bombarding his mind.

He insisted they move on, saying not to be concerned about him. His legs were still rather wobbly though, and the group couldn't help but worry slightly whenever he stumbled, tripping over his own feet.

Well uh i wasnt planning on writing that much but there you go. Yw. I wonder if this counts as a oneshot lol, or is it like in between a hc and a oneshot - what would that be, a onecannon? Oo wait, a HEADSHOT. Lmaoo. Bootifol.

Ok im gonna sleep bcuz i spent way to long on this and its 11 30 lol.

Au revoir bitches.

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the-ragbros-are-okay · 1 year

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!! SPOILERS FOR CARIBERT ARCHON QUEST UNDER THE CUT !!

holy. fucking. shit

okay so i did all of it in one go the SECOND the update dropped and first of all???? kaeya actually being somewhat open about his past at dawn winery and talking about sneaking off to sumeru to see if he could find anything about Khaenri'ah,,,

part of me wonders if he was trying to find his way home. that was my first thought, at least

either that or he could've just wanted to investigate the possible remnants of his homeland

also the mental image of crepus traveling to sumeru to drag kaeya back to dawn winery is SO funny omg

anyway. this confirms that as a kid, kaeya was great at hiding and going unnoticed (for a short period of time, at least)

he described it as a "short-lived adventure" as if it was just something he did for fun, but i feel like it was more of a "i don't know where my father went after leaving me here and i know i can't ask for help from anyone around me so i'm going to take matters into my own (tiny) hands and try and get home/learn about home"

also, on that note, kaeya knowing khaenri'ah is near sumeru is...interesting

honestly, just the location is interesting to me

sumeru is, for the most part, surrounded by other nations (liyue, natlan, maybe fontaine? idk i'd need to look at a map) so unless khaenri'ah is west of sumeru, it's somewhat central to the other nations and has gone completely unnoticed since it was destroyed

anyway, back to talking about kaeya

in the weinlesefest, we heard kaeya's father's voice for the first time, and it was the line about kaeya being their nations only hope. however, i guess that line doesn't really affect kaeya in the way we thought it did. while we assumed he was always being torn between mondstadt and khaenri'ah, he was actually starting to think that his father left him there for his own good

honestly, healthy mindset there, king!

anyway after that he says "A happy life sounds good to me, of course. Even if it means being cut off from... certain things."

king. hey. are you talking about being cut off from your birthplace or being disowned by diluc; you gotta give me some direction here. personally, i'm going to assume he's talking about diluc now

kaeya had a very happy life when he was with crepus and diluc, and maybe he's including other people's happiness in his definition of a happy life. he's a people pleaser--if others are happy, so am i--and he thinks diluc is happier without kaeya

also him just saying that alberich is his surname makes me :(

like. listen. i know diluc disowned him so he cant really use the surname ragnvinder. but like cmon :(

and him saying his surname is "probably" the only link to khaenri'ah he has left,,, very interesting

ALSO DAIN???? "...One Death After Noon please, Boss." YOU LITTLE SHIT???? he REALLY just went in there with "i'm going to look you in the eyes, sit at your table, and order your favorite drink from your estranged brother's tavern. just for fun, ofc" like bitch????? omg

the tension between kaeya and dain is...yeesh

anyway. kaeya is the descendant of the abyss order's founder! yippee :) and now that he knows that for sure, there's definitely going to be SOME kind of interesting thought process he has

~~~~~

okay just my thoughts on kaeya for this post but the caribert quest fucked me up omg. like.

okay :)

how am i supposed to live knowing that this man spend SO many years trying to save his son only for it to fail and for him to be buried with a lover

also i love paimon!! she cares for the traveler and it's so sweet i don't get how people don't like her :(

NOT TO MENTION THE PART WITH OUR TWIN

LIKE. WHAT WAS THAT :DDDD

#caribert #genshin impact spoilers #caribert spoilers #dainsleif quest spoilers #dainsleif #kaeya #kaeya alberich #diluc #crepus #genshin impact 3.5 spoilers #gi spoilers #literally just me ranting about the caribert quest #i did it all in one go and then once i finished i went to sleep. completely passed out #forgive any spelling errors my mind is SPINNING

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jar-of-maise · 7 months

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PLATONIC! wriothesley and lynette bff hcs

i think that wriothesly and lynette would be besties and here's why:

[NOT to be taken as a ship]

they both love tea, enough said.

the way Lyney was fretting over his siblings and the traveller and paimon were running around and one step away from a panic breakdown while... lynette was just chilling with rice lee and sigewinnie

bonds over tea making with wriothesley - they can definitely appreciate each other's dedication

sigewinnie makes sweets for lynette! lynette taste tests the sweets for her!!! Aaaaa

though, given the melusine's questionable aesthetic taste, i feel like lyney would have been a bit paranoid

"Lynette! That could have been poisoned!"

"It tasted good though."

"You need to be more careful in the future Lynette."

"it's okay Lyney, if I have to die, I would prefer dying to good desserts over everything else."

"Trust me, that's definitely not the issue here!"

probably bakes sweets and whatever with sigewinnie

but the way lynette's ears are very good? defo hears about the gossip down in the fortress

what can you do with idle gossip? share it with your best bitches

talks smack about everyone with wriothesley over tea

why judge people by yourself when you have a tea drinking buddy??

lynette slacks off a lot on work, what is she doing with her spare time? gossiping with the manager of the fortress? no way!

she's probably found a warm, dry corner in his office to sleep in though like my girl is a cat through and through

def bonds over big sister things with sigewinnie

wriothesley probably doesn't really trust her but he would probably let sigewinnie and her hang out (pls friendship guys)

btw i feel like since sigewinnie likes picking out beauty products for her friends, she's defo tried to do that with lynette - and she's relentlessly badgering rice lee about getting more lynette (AHEM) more scent friendly products for people with sensitive noses

freminet and lyney lose lynette in more ways than one while they're down at the fortress fs like they go out to work? boom lynette's gone and where do they find her? chilling with sigewinnie

wriothesley defo knows that she slacks off but doesn't care

will treat her to a free meal, maybe, but then sure she doesn't slack off for a full day

i lowkey think that he'd invite her over for tea and snacks but like with the slips of paper and lyney probably gets a heart attack everytime he sees one. my poor man got traumatised by rice lee

just lynette and wriothesley and sigewinnie being friends pls ik im delusional but i do think that they could be fdsfsdhjaslkskjgsa

#rice lee #lynette #friendships that started bc of tea #wriothesley #sigewinne #genshin 4.1 #genshin headcanons #guys this is an agenda get onto it #lyney and lynette #fontaine siblings #freminet #lynette and her love for tea #4.1 spoilers #sigewinnie is my child #you can pry it from my cold dead hands #canon because i said so

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an-otterly-adorable-being · 7 months

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Doing something a bit different from my headcanons, though this one-shot does tie back to some headcanons I did a while ago. Hope y'all enjoy!

(The Headcanon)

Tick Tock: Stolas x M!GoetiaPrince!Reader One-Shot

☆-------------------------------------------------------☆

This was fine, you were fine. Sure, you were currently waiting to see the love of your life, the prince who you were kept from for decades. This was it, your chance to finally go back to him, to finally have him back in your arms. Satan's sake, that clock in the corner was far too... loud wasn't the right word. It was normal, just making you aware of the passage of time, both present and past.

...Annoying, that was the word. Although that still didn't feel right. Disquieting? No, that wasn't it either. Stolas would probably know the word, being a little, adorable nerd. Did he still wear those adorable glasses? You hadn't seen them in any pictures during your time forced away from him, but maybe he only wore them in private? You remember when you used to wipe the tears from underneath the lenses, the looks of adoration Stolas had given you through them, and every other emotion possible in his eyes. His beautiful, mesmerizing eyes.

You were getting nervous now. Stolas was taking his time, and you wondered if maybe he wasn't interested in seeing you again. You wouldn't blame him, you didn't even try to fight back when you were "forbidden from seeing him." Yeah, Paimon would've crushed you, but you could've atleast tried. Plus, Stolas supposedly has a new man in his life. Why were you even here?

"Because you're selfish," you mumbled to yourself. You wanted Stolas to be happy, but here you are, waltzing back into his life just like the two of had waltzed before. Except this time, you were the one butting in, not Paimon. Your brain was telling you to leave, to disappear again and save you both the heartache. But your body didn't move an inch, facing the fears you wanted to cower from.

Damn, that clock was getting to you, and you still couldn't find a word to describe it! Stupid, idiotic, useless, guilt-inducing, depressing, none of them worked. It was the only thing saving your mind from tearing itself apart and it was just as frustrating as your own feelings. Stolas never would've bought something like that, the clock was definitely from Stella. And then, you started thinking about her.

That lady made your blood boil. She was a status obsessed bitch, and you hated her for it. Why did she get to be the one to be with Stolas? You were there and ready, you would've actually loved him, unlike that overgrown brat. Yeah yeah, Stolas was supposed to produce an heir and you were both guys, but still! Magoc is everywhere in Hell, there had to be something, right?

It didn't matter now, though. Stolas already went through that pain, and you couldn't even hold him as he cried. You couldn't wipe the tears away. You couldn't sing a song just well enough to soothe him. You, the man who promised to protect him with your life, couldn't be his knight in shining armor, because you were a coward!

...That's it, that clock was going to be smashed. You couldn't take it anymore, it needed to be stopped at the least. You stood up and marched to it, ready to turn it into tiny splinters. You almost didn't hear the voice behind you. Almost.

"Y/N...?"

"Stolas, I-"

"Y/N!"

Stolas had gotten stronger apparently, as he fully tackled you to the ground, knocking over everything in the way. You could see the tears falling from his eyes, as a wide grin filled his face. He held on to you tightly, and you embraced him as well, tears also forming.

"I can not believe this is real. I thought that I would never see you again."

"Yeah, this is real. So are the pieces of whatever you knocked me into sticking in my back."

"Oh goodness, let me help you up."

Ironically enough, you landed on the clock, breaking it in half, leaving you with a slight sense of satisfaction. You didn't dwell for long though, as Stolas had you sit down with him on a nearby couch.

"It's... been a while, are you-"

"Stolas, I'm so, so sorry for everything. I should have been there for you, I should have protected you, I-"

"Y/N, please, there is nothing to apologize for."

"But there is! I should've been there for you!"

"And you would've been killed by my father if you did. I...I know I can't convince you that you don't have to apologize, so I want to accept your apologies for everything."

"I don't deserve you Stolas."

"You absolutely do, alright? "

"Heh, yeah... um, I don't want to intrude into your personal business, but I saw you were with someone else, and I wanted to let you know that, even though I still love you, I don't want to interfere with your relationship."

"Ah, Blitzø. I...I do love him, but our relationship is complicated, to say the least. There is far too much to really get into, and besides, I want to spend time with you. You've always had a piece of my heart, you know."

"I know, I know. Should we do dinner maybe? Catch up then?"

"That sounds delightful. Oh, and Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you, for coming back. I've missed you."

Stolas took ahold of your hand, gently brushing your knuckles. You missed this, you really, really missed this. You and Stolas made eye-contact, and before either of you knew it, you were kissing.

#oneshot #writing #stolas x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss stolas #something a little different #fanfic #ish #not sure if it counts tbh

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water-to-drink · 1 year

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Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt6

Encased In Ice

(Summary): After your sudden alliance with the fatui, it seems your plans of vengeance are possible

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): Childe, traveler!Lumine, abyss prince!Aether, Paimon, Pulcinella, Capitano, Dottore, Pierro, Sandrone, Pantalone, The Tsarita, (the others are there they just aren’t mentioned), ??? & ???

(Warnings): Not beta read

(A/n): This took way longer than expected (writer’s block is a bitch), but it’s here. Now that I know where I want this fanfic to go hopefully y’all like what I have planned

─────────── ✧ ───────────

“DAMNIT!!!!”

The shrill voice was accompanied by the sound of a gold chalice being slammed on the marble floor

“What do you mean, there’s been no sight of them?!” Your doppelganger asked the cowering soldiers

“We’re sorry your Grace. We’ve combed through every corner and still there hasn’t been sight of them!” A nameless soldier spoke

“It’s only been a few weeks, they must be hiding somewhere!”

“We’re trying to find the imposter as best as we can-”

“Then try harder! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!!!” The almost animalistic shriek sent the soldiers scurrying out of the room like rats

The doppelganger drags their hands across their face, revealing the dark circles that started to appear due to lack of sleep caused by anxiety

“Fuck, they’re probably assembling an army. And they’re gonna come after me and take my head like I almost took theirs….” The doppelganger grab chunks of their hair and begin to pull in an attempt to alleviate their growing panic. “Uhh? Yeah, you’re right. We just need to find them before their army can go against me. We have 6 nations and their archons under our thumb. There’s no way they can face us.” The doppelganger releases the grip on their hair. “I don’t know I would do without you…”

─────────── ✧ ───────────

The trip wasn’t that bad, the only part that you didn’t care for was trying to get Aether and Childe not to kill each other. Other than that, everything’s been alright. The crew treated you nicely, you introduced them to some card games from your world and played some of them on the regular to keep occupied

And before you knew it you reached the shore of the snowy nation, Snezhnaya. A familiar man with a short stature and tall hat waved as you walked onto the dock

“Your Grace, I’m glad you arrived to outr beauty nation safely. Though I wish it was under better circumstances.” Pulcinella said

“I’m just happy that you even allow me here, it’s nice not having to worry about being hunted down.”

“I do hope you find respite in our country, your Grace.” The elderly man turned his head toward Lumine. “I see you brought… the traveler.”

“She was the first one to help me evade capture and saved my life multiple times. Without her I wouldn’t be talking to you right now and I won’t stand for any of your subordinates to harm her or her Paimon in anyway, am I clear with that?”

“Y-yes, let me lead the way, your Grace.”

The harbinger began walking and you and your party soon follow him

“Woo, you gave Paimon a scare back there! It’s almost like you were a completely different person!”

“I have to agree with her, you looked like a sergeant giving orders to new recruits.” Childe leaned in and whispered. “This might be the only time I’ve seen him scared like this!”

Pulcinella lead you to the gate of Zapolyarny Palace. The inside looked absolutely beautiful. You walked down icy blue halls that seemed to be made of ice. The walls had intricate patterns painted onto them, a wall even a mural that was too far away to decipher them. The elderly man opened two big doors and held his head high

“Behold! The Divine Creator of Teyvat!” Pulcinella announced

All of the 8 attendees stood up and watched as you entered the room. Your eyes fixed onto the person in the center

A woman stood proud, a silver crown sat on top of icy blonde hair with light blue tips framing a pale face. Her eyes were a piercing blue and looked colder than the frigid weather outside.

The cryo archon. The Tsarita herself before you

“It is an honor to be blessed by your divine presence, your Grace.” She greeted as she and the other harbingers bowed

“There’s no need for the formalities, I’m grateful that you’re all helping me. But my double doesn’t know that I’m here, I wouldn’t want to put any of you in danger.”

“Only a select few know that you are here, your Grace. We can’t risk your safety by having knowledge of your whereabouts get leaked.” Capitano explained

“We’re already working on a plan to defeat the true imposter and as we this carry out, you can stay in palace for as long as you need.” Pierro said

“Thank you, but I request something else from you.”

“Anything, just say it and we will make come into fruition.” The Tsarita promised

“I need to take part in this plan.” The Harbingers shared glances at each other unsure of what to say. “I can’t sit around knowing that my doppelganger is out there, abusing their power and making the lives of people worse.” You put your hand on your chest. “So I request that you would lend me your resources, because I want to be the one to take my doppelganger off of the throne!”

As your voice bounced off the cold walls the Harbingers all looked at you in horror

“Your Grace, we can’t let you do that in good faith. Your powers aren’t the same as they were when you last walked Teyvat.” Sandrone pleaded

“I know, but Childe told me that you have stones that are the supposed remains of the Creator.”

“We do, but we don’t know if your human form would be able to utilize the effects of these gems and not reject it completely.” Dottore tried to reason

“Bring the gem in.”

The Harbingers turned their heads towards the Tsarita. All wanting to object but can’t bring themselves to do so

“Alright… your majesty.” Pulcinella said as he tried to stead his voice. “You heard her majesty, bring the holy stone in.” He said to an attendant guarding the door

Said attendant rushed out of the room and soon came back into the room with another attendant carting in a glass case containing a glowing stone.

Once the cart was in front of you, you admired the gem. Seeing it on a screen is one thing but seeing it glow with your own two eyes, it truly looked it was something holy

“Uh you know don’t have to do this, you might get hurt really badly.” Paimon pleaded

“She’s right, we can find another way to get your hold powers back.” Lumine suggested

“Your Grace, that is one thing I agree with them on. We nor you don’t know what would happen if you touch that stone.” Aether was the last one to urge you against this idea

For a second you thought maybe it was a bad idea to connect with it, but you had to do what needs to be done

“As I said, I’m a hell of a lot more resilient than I look.” You gave the Harbingers and the twins the most reassuring smile you could muster

You turned your attention back to the gem and mentally prepared yourself. You finally expended your hand and touched the Primogem

A flash of light enveloped you and…

Nothing happened

You looked around the room to see if anything was out of place, except for the gem being gone

“D-did the Primogem vanish?” You asked mainly to yourself

“It looked as if it had fused with you.” Aether replied

“How do you feel, is there anything out of usual?” Lumine asked

“Not that different. If the rock didn’t fuse with me I would’ve assumed it didn’t work.”

“It appears to be that these ‘Primogems’ have a lot less power than what we originally believed.” Pantalone muttered to himself

“If that’s the case, then I’ll put an order on searching these gems.” The Tsarita declared

─────────── ✧ ───────────

Things at the Grand Narukami Shrine have been… tense, to say the least

Everyone is so agitated at the news of an imposter still loose somewhere. It really isn’t a desirable environment to read light novels. But the Guuji is having much more fun listening to the shrine maidens expressing their concerns about the possibility of said impostor in their humble nation

“I’m just saying, where else would that rat go than here!” The shrine maiden Nana said

“It would be very foolish on their part, the Shogun and her army would immediately drive them out!” Hotomi scoffed

“Enough of that nonsense.”

The two shrine maiden turned towards the sound of the voice and saw the Shogun walking into view

“Al-almighty Shogun, we’re honored that you visited us, is there anything we can do for you!” Hotomi stammered through

“Leave, and tell everyone you see here to do the same.” The purple haired woman said

The two women run towards the stairs scared of the wrath they might face if they stall any longer

Once seeing that the shrine was truly empty the Shogun turned towards the youkai, who was enjoying her tea

“My, my, that was a little harsh to scare them away like that.” The Kitsune mused while standing up from her seat. “Seeing you here, I would assume you have something important to tell me.”

The head shrine maiden walked towards the taller woman

“So what do you have to tell me, puppet?”

─────────── ✧ ───────────

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @transbirboi @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @kokomisimpppp @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @ventixthexanemoxarchon @bore2808 @lizzheartz @bidisasterforevermore @dxprived4-starboys @angstylittleb1tch

If anyone wants to be on the taglist then say so

─────────── ✧ ───────────

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @transbirbboi @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @kokomisimpppp @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @ventixthexanemoxarchon @bore2808 @lizzhearthz @bidisasterforevermore @dxprived4-starboys @angstylittleb1tch

#genshin fanfic #genshin sagau #genshin imposter au #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #sagau #imposter sagau #sagau lumine #sagau aether #sagau childe #sagau fatui harbingers #sagau pierro #sagau pulcinella #sagau capitano #sagau pantalone #sagau sandrone

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rhine-gold-archive · 2 years

Note

oh my god, I loved your Diluc fic! Sub!Ayato pretty please for the requests? People only seem to write him as a top :(

Sub! Ayato x Dom! gn reader

Words: 4k

A\n: wait for the filth, it’s under the cut, after the character study. And again, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, it’s just my personal interpretation of a character.