hcbnkdf

Latest Posts by hcbnkdf

Mafia prey

Genre: 18+, just pure smut

Cw: Mafia!Minho x Agent!FemReader, soft(ish) dom minho, unprotected sex, swearing, oral (f+m receiving), spanking, interrogation, slight voyeurism, praise, ownership, slight sadism masochism stuff going on

Wc: 5.6k

Summary: Lee Minho, second in command to the most dangerous organised crime network in Korea, knew you had something to hide, and he planned to figure out exactly what was so off about you

AN: save me mafia minho save me, mafia aus are my fav fav fav fav fav fav fav I LOVE MINHO IN SUITS I'm losing my mind

If anything was a sight to behold, it was Lee fucking Minho. Classy, charming, dangerous- he was everything you'd expect of someone who could kill you in more ways than one. And if seduction was part of his arsenal then you'd just gone and fallen for it hadn't you?

Your oxygen deprived lungs didn't seem to care that you weren't breathing, it was like he was a poison that your body welcomed on- gave in on its own. Just kneeled down and practically said fucking take me. Pathetic, you were an overseas agent for fucks sake- not some.. some hormonal teenager.

He'd seen right through you. You were his prey.

As good as he was, you'd been interrogated enough to spot underlying questions, to deprive your answers of evidential information- he wouldn't get anything out of you like this. He'd have to try harder.

He smiled, pushing his thumb under your chin to close your mouth after he pulled away from your lips- stepping backwards into his suite and leaving you stood in the doorway.

Minho peeled his coat off of himself and shrugged it onto a passing chair as he kept walking. He hadn't made any effort to get anything out of you so far, he already knew this wasn't enough.

Part of you wanted to know how far he'd go, what he'd be willing to do for what he wanted.

A lot of you wanted to know how far he'd go.

Two can play at this game Mr Lee.

He took a sip of a glass of wine he swiped off of the table as he went past, easily undoing the buttons of his waistcoat with his other hand- gesturing his head for you to join him.

The man chuckled, pulling at the fastening of his tie as you sauntered forward, eyes on the way you moved in that dress. "Silver looks good on you."

"Yeah?" You asked, unwraveling the silk scarf from around your neck- about to drop it on the floor until he held out his palm.

"Definitely," he smirked, twirling it around both of his wrists before draping it behind you, suddenly pulling taut on the fabric to force your body against his.

"Well you certainly belong in a suit." You coyly trailed your fingers from his sternum to the bottom of his chin, featherlight touches as you danced under his jaw, reaching to the back of his neck into his hair.

He tilted his head back, letting you run your tongue over his exposed skin- kissing from his throat to his collarbone. "You won't get whatever you're trying to get out of me," you whispered into him, "I'm smarter than that Mr Lee."

"Please, call me Minho," he hummed, using the satin wrap to flip your back onto his chest.

He pulled the scarf back up your torso, slowly reaching your chest before it jumped onto your neck- tugging your head backwards onto his shoulder. The mafioso immediately took the opportunity to nip at your skin, passing one end of the fabric into your hand so he could hold your hip.

"What makes you think I want something out of you?" He asked softly, sucking obnoxious little marks into anywhere he could reach. "Hiding something from the Mafia?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"As a matter of fact I would," he chuckled, releasing you from his grip to pull you along. You twirled and span with the silk, letting Minho catch the small of your back as you fell backwards into him.

His puckish grin had your knees weak, you felt like prey in his arms.

His.. everything, fuck, it wasn't supposed to feel like this. You weren't supposed to get butterflies from the way he held you, from the way his lips grazed yours, from the low hums he was letting out as he kissed you. None of it.

"Mm," you murmured between breaths, grabbing fists of his hair in an attempt to draw him even closer to you.

He pulled the both of you back up, taking the last remaining steps until your calves hit the soft duvet before collapsing down on it together- easily holding himself above you. You bit your lip into a smile.

"Would you mind if I took this dress off of you?" He asked, running a finger under the hem of the front.

"Not at all, Mr Lee."

"What did I say?" He purred, leaning down into your ear. "That's Minho, to you."

"Alright, Minho," you breathed, his tone shuddering down your spine in a very obvious display of arousal.

"Lean up for me." He said, curling his arm underneath you so that he could slowly peel down the zip of your dress. "Perfect."

The lower it moved, the more Minho could reach his head down the front- running his tongue through the middle of your breasts until he finally pulled the dress down your legs.

Gently your back touched the bed again, and he stood straight- a coy smile on his lips as he admired your body before turning to hold up the dress.

You pressed into your elbows, watching him amble over to the open wardrobe- finding a coat hanger to slip into the arms. "What are you doing?"

"Can't crease such a pretty thing," he spoke softly, the words weren't even about you.. but fuck did they make your heart pump.

"Do you keep all your partners waiting like this?"

He chuckled, hanging the dress onto the pole before he started strolling back to you. "You think I do this often?"

"There's no way you don't," you scoffed, letting his body trap you in place- a hand either side of you, breath hitching when his knee pushed between your legs. "You're just too good."

"Believe it or not I don't sleep with people as an interrogation method on a regular basis," he laughed, dancing his fingers down the sides of your torso. "I can usually get it out sooner."

"And what if you don't get anything at all," you asked, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, "what will you do with me then?"

You slid the fabric off of his shoulders, trailing your nails over his soft skin- admiring his lean physique with awe. Hooking a finger under his choker, you pulled him down, letting your breath mix with his as your mouths hovered millimetres between eachothers.

"You belong to me until the morning beautiful.."

Fuck.

"..I'll get what I want."

Fuck.

He waited for you to push up, trying to connect your lips before he placed his index finger over your mouth, a satisfied smirk donning his features.

Standing again, he inched his hands down to your legs- a firm grip on your thighs as he pulled your body so that your hips were aligned with the edge of the mattress and slipped your underwear off.

Minho pryed your legs apart, wrenching a gasp from your throat with the unexpected action while he put them over his shoulders.

He slid onto his knees, the grin on his face with the eye contact was making your stomach swirl, and the feel of his raspy voice on the skin of your thighs as he kissed closer and closer. You were so wrapped up in the feel of him you didn't even realise he was speaking until he stopped.

"Mr- Minho?" You asked, leaning onto your elbows- faced with him already alert and looking up at you.

"Aren't you paying attention?" He taunted jokingly, and you bashfully shook your head. "I said is it okay for me to keep going?"

"Yeah," you breathed, "yeah of course."

He only smiled, bright eyes narrowing in on your reaction as his thumb drew gentle circles over your clit.

Your head fell back with a gasp, basking in the feel of his gentle pleasure with your eyes shut- you didn't get to see him dip between your legs and draw a long flat line through your pussy with his tongue. He ripped a moan from your throat, your shoulders pushing your back into a small arch as you breathed in.

"I saw you," he nipped at your thigh. "I saw you watching us."

Your job was to infiltrate, to gain their trust, eventually with the long term goal of shutting down their operation. But for now you were just supposed to relay information. Your bosses told you not to push it, this was the first big event you were properly attending- the mafia wouldn't know you.

They'd be wary, so of course you should've kept a low profile. You should've gradually worked your way up, and you tried, but Lee Minho.. fuck, nothing escaped his gaze apparently.

"Why shouldn't I watch someone as h-handsome as you?"

You just wanted to identify them, get a face for your names.

Just the inner circle.

Christopher Bang, the young leader of the mafia- not to be underestimated. You hadn't seen him nor his bodyguard Changbin make an appearance.

You'd seen Hyunjin and Jisung, the weapons operatives, and you were pretty sure that you could identify Felix by his strikingly blue hair despite his high mafia status.

No more than that, because you didn't get very far before Lee Minho caught your attention. He was watching you back.

You'd been warned about him, second in command, he liked to meddle.

He chuckled, "don't play dumb, I want to know why you're here."

You released a shaky breath as he went back to licking and sucking your clit- giving you time to mull over his statement. Your whole operation would be blown if he knew why you were here.

Would it be the worst thing in the world?

He already knows you're not to be trusted. He already knows you've got something to hide.

He smirked into your skin when your hips bucked into his fingers as he slowly slid two into you- shallowly teasing you by going no further than the first knuckle.

You moaned breathlessly, spurring him to give you more but he didn't. Of course he didn't. His tongue only traced around your clit, never getting close enough for any release- but keeping you on your toes with the sensation.

What he was waiting for was obvious.

"I'm supposed to infiltrate," you whispered ashamedly- struck by how easy it was for him to coax that out of you.

"Good girl," he hummed approvingly, pushing his fingers deep inside and stroking against that spot inside you as your reward.

Oh fuck, he couldn't call you that could he? That's cheating.

"Minho," you breathed, the end of his name breaking off into a whimper as his teeth closed around your clit teasingly- soothing the slight pain by sucking and making your legs tremble around his head.

"Why are you infiltrating the mafia, pretty thing?"

His ministrations slowed down again and you knew he was expecting another answer but you couldn't give him any more.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

"No? Can't say?" He spoke gently, "tell you what, I'll talk, and you nod if you hear something that sounds familiar, alright?"

He didn't give you a second to process the statement before he flicked your clit, gaining a shocked gasp that he took as affirmation instead.

"Judging by your accent, you're not from around here, hm?"

You nodded, and he started to pump his long fingers in and out of you faster again.

"You're from overseas." He said to himself- not needing your affirmative to connect the dots.

Lee Minho was smart, you're sure just by nodding at his statements he could deduce your entire act but you couldn't bring yourself to care when he was knuckle deep inside you.

You'd known that he would be trouble even before you arrived in Korea.

Then when you caught him paying acute attention to what you were doing across the hall you knew something was up. You dipped away, needing to get out of his line of sight, so you shuffled yourself through groups of people you didn't recognise until you had a different view of the inner circle.

He was no longer there.

Your heart dropped as you quickly scanned the faces of the people around you, waiting for him to pounce, for him to expose everything.

"Now I'm guessing this whole thing has something to do with the expansion rumours?"

You nodded again, and he tapped your thigh twice approvingly.

"And.. you need to find out if they're more than just rumours, yes?"

You nodded vigorously once more, your hands struggling to find a place to ground you- fighting to ball up the covers within your fists as Minho's fingers pulled your closer and closer towards your orgasm.

"M-Minho.." you whimpered, bordering on asking him nicely to just keep going. "Please."

You didn't know whether he felt you were giving him enough information for you to cum yet. You didn't know whether he would stop or not.

You certainly didn't expect your first interaction with the man to be watching in shock as he took your hand gently in his, pressing your knuckles to his lips gently after he had emerged with a smirk from the crowds behind you.

"Why don't I know you?" He asked, and you foolishly thought for a second that he didn't know a thing. That he was just intrigued by you.

Wrong, of course. You knew you shouldn't have let him seduce you, couldn't let him get his claws in you. But his sweet words and charisma lowered your inhibitions quicker than you'd thought was possible and he'd roped you up to his room in no time like a snake wrapping around its prey.

"I'm not sure who'd be bold enough to send an agent undercover, though.." he hummed more to himself this time. "Do you need to cum yet? I expect you to ask permission."

"Yes, yeah, fuck.. please, can I cum?"

He smiled at your clear submission to him and resumed rubbing circles over your clit.

Your hands tangled in his hair, feeling a little out of place tugging on such a dangerous man like you had no regard for your life- but he only chuckled and rubbed you faster.

"Cum for me, sweetheart, show me you can follow orders."

Your orgasm washed over you gradually but rapidly- prolonged by the fact that Minho didn't stop after you'd finished whispering 'thank you's and waited until your legs were trembling against his head with overstimulation before he pulled away.

You gently pulled him up on the bed by his hair, gasping when you felt his bulge press into you- hot and heavy, and with no shame as he smiled.

"Want to thank me properly?"

You nodded, softly pressing him down into the bed where you had just been, sitting on his thick thighs as you undid the fly on his suit pants.

You pulled them down enough for you to reach his boxers and let his cock spring free. Swallowing hard, your eyes drank in the size of him- wondering how you were going to fit that.. anywhere?

Minho grinned, telling you to go ahead with a flick of his wrist.

And who were you to keep him waiting?

Your hand gingerly wrapped around the bottom of his shaft, failing to keep your eyes off his pretty pink tip as it leaked beads of precum with every stroke. Your thumb swiped over the top and used it to reduce the friction.

Minho groaned at the feel of your soft hand around him. You looked up, choking down a gasp as you watched him sucking your juices off of his fingers.

"Use your mouth," he hummed, softly releasing shaky breaths with his eyes closed.

You nodded, not that he would see, and slid further down his legs so that your mouth was just above his cock. You let a dribble of spit fall down onto his tip and amplifyied the lude sound of your hand stroking him, biting your lip and wondering if he really expected you to fit this all in your mouth.

Did he?

You licked a stripe from the base all the way up, working around to try and cover all of him at once so to distract him from the fact you weren't going to be able to suck him off properly.

Your free hand fondled with his balls as you swirled your tongue around his tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum and humming softly.

You repeated the steps and licked a little lower, pointing your tongue and tracing a vein on the underside of his cock that made him drawl out a long groan and buck his hips. You smiled, using more of your spit to lube up your hand before you swirled around once and, closing your lips around his tip and sucking hard.

"Fuck," he groaned, opening his eyes to fix a lazy gaze on you.

Minho watched, catching his bottom lip in between his two rows of teeth, collecting the hair that was falling into your face in a makeshift bun that he held on top of your head in a fist.

His hips canted up in time with your hand, absentmindedly pushing your mouth down further onto his cock- moaning under his breath that he was close, until you suddenly stopped.

A line of saliva connected you to his tip, and when you looked up he met your eyes with a hardened icy stare.

You quickly climbed up his body, placing an apologetic and somewhat frantic kiss on his jaw, eager to get him inside of you.

And eager for him to not look at you like he was ready to show you the violent side of his mafia reputation.

"Want you to cum inside," you muttered, bracing your hands over his broad chest and positioning your entrance over him. "I can't get pregnant."

He almost growled under his breath as he reached down to fist his cock, the other hand moving from your hair to hold your jaw in an unrelenting grip- forcing you to look and watch as he placed his tip inside of you.

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut- ready for him.

"Open your eyes."

And your eyes were wide open.

You didn't want to mess with him when he sounded like that, mad and horny and angry that you edged him. But god was it fucking hot.

He bucked his hips up, grabbing hold on your waist and shoving you down all in one- bottoming straight out in your pussy.

You were convinced he might've hit your cervix.

"Minho! Wait, s-slow down!"

The mans nails dug deep into your sides, branding you like you were his property and making you hiss out. He set an unrelenting pace and relished in the sounds of your screams.

"You need to fucking tell me who you work for."

How could you even concentrate on that when he was hitting every spot and more inside of you?

Thinking about work?

You could barely think about anything other than his thick cock splitting you in half.

He slapped your ass hard, ripping a squeal from your throat.

When you still didn't answer he started a torturous rite of striking the same spot with his large, unforgiving hand after every thrust of his hips. How he was religiously getting the same spot escaped you- all you could think about was how it hurt.

It hurt so good.

Tears began to spill from your eyes and you couldn't even consider wiping them away before they dripped onto his skin.

Minho scoffed. "You know how to make it stop."

The hand pinning your body to his snaked down to toy with your clit- leaving you to bounce on your own but you didn't dare disrupt his rythym. It was so fucking good.

It was all so fucking good, the pain mixing into pleasure, the pleasure so white hot it could've been mistaken for pain.

"M-Min.. cum.. need to cum!"

"Tell me, and I'll let you."

You shook your head vigorously, falling forwards to splay your hands over his broad chest. Your hair blurred your view of him, and his fingers rubbing over your clit faster than any human should possibly be able to blurred everything.

Fuck, fuck.

Your nails dug into his skin and your teeth crushed your bottom lip as you felt the familiar feeling of your limbs starting to tense up.

"Please, please, p-please," you started to mutter like a mantra, begging him to let you off this once.

He didn't, of course, and when both of his hands cruelly held you stationary in the air to let your bubbling orgasm drift away you struggled against his grip, but you were obviously no match for his strength.

You choked out a sob, the only advantage of the situation being the fog in your mind clearing because of your ruined climax.

This was getting too close. He was getting too close.

Suddenly he pushed up, holding you against him with one hand as he carried you over to the floor in front of the mirror.

"Lean down" he barked, "on your knees."

And so you did, looking through at how small you looked against him right now. The mafioso folded over you, pressing your shoulders down further to the floor so that your ass reached further in the air, you instinctively went to lay your head on the floor but he gently tugged your hair up.

"Make sure you're watching" he smirked. "I want you to see how good I could make you feel if you told me."

Satisfied that your head wasn't going to drop as soon as he let go, Minho snaked his arms around your torso. He pinched your nipples, twisting and tugging as he slowly pushed his cock inside of you.

He seemed hell bent on drawing this one out. You assumed he was a hard and fast type of guy by how erratically he was driving his hips into you earlier- even being underneath it was quite impressive how he took over your body. But currently, he only smiled into your neck, gently biting down on my skin as he took it nice and slow with his thrusts, pausing every time he bottomed out to draw out whines and moans by playing with the hard nubs on either side of your chest.

You rocked your hips on his dick, urging him to just keep fucking going instead of teasing you like this. Having already came and being so close, he knew that it wouldn't take much to get you there again, and now he was just playing with you- finding it amusing how he's keeping you on edge as he gets off so fucking slowly.

"Stop it Minho," you commanded, but he only chuckled- thrusting up quickly to make you moan but only once, taking a nipple in his fingers and twisting to work mewls out of your throat as he repeated the motion with both hands. "Please."

"Why should I?"

"I'm so c-close! Fuck, stop playing with m-!"

Minho slipped his fingers in your mouth, telling you to suck and he'd start moving again. So you did, you sucked on his fingers like it was the only thing you were made for- groaning into them as he progressively started sliding in and out again tantalisingly slowly. But it was over as soon as it started, your string of cusswords directed towards him only made him smile teasingly as he kept lapping at the skin on your neck.

Taking out his fingers, he thanked you, gliding the saliva over your sensitive chest, curling them around your nipples again as he rolled them between his fingers. Oh god did it feel amazing, he sure was good at this, too bad he's such a fucking tease.

"I bet I can make you cum just by doing this, I wouldn't even have to move."

"Oh shit, Minho, please.."

Even the suggestion made you want to beg him for something.

Everytime you tried to roll your hips or lean back into him, just to get any sort of friction- the brunette thrust forward with so much vigour that it knocked the energy out of you each time.

Forcing you to hold your quivering body still as he fucked you at his own pace.

"So.." he started, "are you gonna tell me who you work for?"

He loved watching how desperate you were for him to move, how desperate you were for just another inch of his cock- it fueled his ego to no extent. He locked eyes with you in the mirror, smirking as he worked you under his long fingers, his own orgasm building up from being inside you as you clenched around him.

The way your mouth hung open, scared to respond because your mind was too hazy, you didn't want to reveal anything else- it drove him crazy.

"I can do this forever." He smiled.

"Don't Minho, please, I-"

"Can't take it?"

"It's too much- ah."

"Is it now?" He hummed, faking an understanding look. "Come on, I know you want that pussy destroyed baby, I can do that if you just tell me."

Your face lit up in a reddish colour and you ducked your head to take his eyes off of your face but he only chuckled, tugging your head back up by the hair.

"Tell me who you work for," he said, malice dropping from every word.

"I- I can't!"

"Fine," he said, tauntingly pulling himself out until only the tip remained inside of you. "Last chance?"

Oh how you wanted to fucking go down on that dick right now, cream all over it until he painted your insides white.

"I can't fucking tell you anything."

He tutted disappointedly, holding his length in his hands and starting to run his hand along it. You whined at the absence of him, you'd prefer to be a god damn cockwarmer than having to watch him get himself off and just stay here with this stupid ache.

"Min-"

He interupted with a brute smack across your ass in the same position as before- one that you're sure will have turnt a very angry red mark into a hand shaped bruise by the morning. "Ah ah, no moving, you had your chance"

Oh shit, that was hot-

"I'm gonna cum all over your back and if you haven't told me by then.. I'll leave you like this"

Your lips were tightly sewn shut, but the longer it went the more you started to believe him. Would he seriously leave you? After getting you all worked up like this?

But oh fuck if he looked good doing anything it was this. Somehow the sight of it was.. it was really sexy. His flushed cheeks and parted lips, the knowing eye contact as he watched you watch him through the mirror. That way his eyes ran across your body- it didn't take long until his strokes became uneven- his chest flying up and down with each breath.

"Fuck! Fuck!" You whined, just as he came, spouting his orgasm all over your back and ass. "Rosario!"

He crouched, running his finger along where you were silently pleading for attention, and then placing it on his lips as he sucked it.

"Did you get wetter after watching me jerk off? You're so unbelievable, so naughty."

"Can't you just fucking stick your cock in me now," you moaned, trying to come off commanding- but probably failing. "I did what you wanted."

"Mmm, it was a little too close for my liking, I should really make you beg for it.."

He ran his tip through your folds, still wet with his cum- making you sigh with relief at even that amount of stimulation. You were past the point of caring now, you just wanted him to fuck you until you cried and if you had to beg him so be it.

"Please let me have your cock Minho I- I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I'm sorry! I just need you inside of me, I want you to fuck me properly, fuck me into the floor, fuck me until I can't walk! Shit, please M-Min-ah!"

He pushed slowly inside of you, both hands on your hips as he went until his were touching yours. "Did I say stop?"

"S-sorry, fuck you feel so good in me.. f-fuck, fuck rougher! Pull my hair, please would you go faster Minho!"

He chuckled, entertaining your requests and making you scream in pleasure as he finally rammed himself into you so hard that you could barely hear any moans over the clashing of your hips together.

He grabbed fistfuls of your hair, calling you all types of pretty names in praise as the other hand squeezed your ass so hard you thought it was going to bruise. "Give me your wrists," he ordered, noticing you kept slipping due to lack of anything to grip.

As soon as you folded them behind you he had both arms in his hold, so easily wrapping his hands around yours. He tugged, hard. So hard in fact that you were forced off of the floor, the mirror revealing your bouncing chest- much to the man's delight.

He bottomed out inside of you with each thrust, hitting every spot with so much force that you knew your orgasm was about to be amazing.

"Oh, f-fuck.. Minho, fuck!" you breathed, "I'm about to-"

"Yeah?" He smirked breathlessly, "sh-shit, me too."

Finally that knot inside of you broke, undoing quicker than before, making you scream his name in pleasure, tears running down your cheeks as your thighs quivered. This night immediately took the title of the best fucking sex you've ever had, and if it wasn't for him hauling you up by the wrists you probably would have collapsed.

The sight made Minho follow soon after, filling you to the brim with his cum as he groaned and hung his head over. The thrusts becoming slower and slower until he pulled out, flopping down next to you.

You reached over to slap his chest, mumbling fuck you's and saying there was no need to be so mean. He caught your hand, kissing your knuckles with a small laugh, tugging you into his arms and almost cradling you.

"You okay?" He asked, his thumbs gently caressing your skin while he stood up, slowly shuffling to the bed and sitting you on the edge.

You figured since this was a glorified hotel room and he was literally filthy rich he'd have no problem not actually staying in the room he'd bought for the night. "Are you going now?"

"Why would I leave?"

Instead, he checked what he could see of your body without having to move you too much, soft touches to any marks that he'd left, little hums of sympathy when he brushed over all the bruises on your thighs.

"You got what you wanted didn't you," you mumbled, droopy eyes as he lifted the duvet out from underneath you.

"I did, but I think I might keep you," he whispered into your hair, the shock of him placing a tender kiss on your head making you raise your head to look at him.

"You'll work for us."

He couldn't be serious.

..Could he?

Minho climbed in besides you, easily pulling your body back into his arms.

"As a double agent?"

The mafioso nodded in return to your question. One of his hands ran soothingly up and down your thigh, the cold sensation of his rings making you shiver.

You leant back down onto his chest, the rise and fall of the warm body below you offering you a small sense of comfort amidst the situation that you'd just gotten yourself in.

"I'll be the only one that knows, so it's safer for you."

You nodded absentmindedly.

You couldn't say no. He was second in command of the most dangerous Korean organised crime network, you couldn't say no to him.

Besides, he should've already killed you for your confessions.

You should be thanking the stars that he wanted to keep you, make you work for him.

"You report everything to me, every single detail."

You nodded.

"You're mine now." He spoke gruffly in your ear, the actual realisation that he was a very, very dangerous man making your mouth dry up. "I own you."

He must've felt your heart quicken in your chest because he bumped your head back up with his shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

His contradictory actions were giving you whiplash.

"You're not too bad Minho," you mumbled.

"It's still Mr Lee, unless we're alone."

You nodded, watching his smile break into a grin that he pressed into your cheek with a kiss.

He was glad that he found himself a pet who could follow orders.

You yawned and got comfortable on his chest, the way he played with your hair soothing your distress.

You'd just gone and fallen for it hadn't you.

Always the Artist, Never the Muse

PAIRING: Hyunjin x male!reader

WARNING: Lots of Angst, boyxboy (bxb), school!au, rejection, reader has a girlfriend, reader uses jagi/jagiya on their girlfriend, told more from Hyunjin's point of view, reader's point of view is majority of the time with their girlfriend

SUMMARY: Hyunjin has a crush on you but you never seem to look his way. He always paints you and sketches you. But he's scared to approach you because he believes that you'll make fun of him for liking you so he likes you from a distance. Even though he knows that you have a girlfriend.

WORD COUNT: 2,843

A/N:

.°•○>><<○•°. = POV switch

`○°.• ✿ •.°○` = Timeskip

I might write a female version! Let me know if you'd like that too! This is based off of a poem I read on tiktok. It just screamed Hyunjin when I read it so I wrote about it!

You always saw a boy in your class stare at you. Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin. He was the boy that won that art competition in your class last year. You won't lie, his art was amazing but what was weird was him constantly staring at you. That was weird. Something about him was just-

"Hey lover!" Your girlfriend called out as you turned and smiled. "Hey jagi." You said, kissing her on the cheek.

You turned and looked back to Hyunjin, the boy was gone. You wondered where the peculiar boy went. You sighed but enjoyed your time with your girlfriend.

.°•○>><<○•°.

Hyunjin was hiding behind the wall by the classroom door trying not to let his heart break and at the same time jump out of his chest.

He was hurt that you kissed your girlfriend but then again, it was your girlfriend. There's nothing he could do to stop it. He sighed, hoping that he could be in your girlfriend's shoes.

At the same time, he was smiling knowing that you looked at him and noticed him.

`○°.• ✿ •.°○`

A few weeks passed since the incident and Hyunjin still wasn't over it. He still couldn't believe it. As he was spacing out while walking he bumped into you.

"Ah, I'm so sorry." He said as he bowed an apology. "Don't worry about it." You said smiling as Hyunjin realized who it was. He realized a little too late after he lifted his head. He blushed in embarrassment and scratched his neck nervously.

"Hey, you're Hwang Hyunjin right? The guy that won the art contest right?" You asked as Hyunjin nodded bashfully. "Awh, that's amazing. Your art is amazing as well. Maybe you can paint me one day." You said, half joking and half serious. However, Hyunjin liked you so much that he already could draw you from just memory.

"My girlfriend is planning to run for the one art competition coming up for scholarship." Hyunjin was hurt to hear you mention your girlfriend, but his petty side spoke up and said, "What art contest? I think I might've signed up too." You chuckled, "I think it was called KNUA? Korea National University of Arts." He said as Hyunjin let out his fakest giggle.

"I'm going there too! What a coincidence." He lied as you stood there he was flattered, and you guys traded numbers.

Later that same day, he went to go sign his name, read the details, and go get his materials.

.°•○>><<○•°.

After the conversation with Hyunjin you went back to your girlfriend. You smiled at her as you saw her painting. You silently crept behind her as you hugged her from the back.

"Hey jagi, I got what you needed." You said as she smiled and hugged you. "Thank you so much!" She said, you chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Anything for you lover." You told her.

`○°.• ✿ •.°○`

There was approximately a week and a half left until the showcase. You were supporting your girlfriend as she was almost finished. You smiled as she looked happy with her piece.

"What do you think so far jagi?" She asked as you looked at the painting. It was with two people hugging, laying down. While in what seems to be an unfinished painted casket. "Why a casket?" You asked as she smiled. "I'm taking the marriage vow, 'till death do us part' literally." She said as you nodded your head. "You're so smart." You told her as you admired it. "I don't get art but that was really smart." She giggled at that.

"I need more paint, can you go get me some from the store?" She asked as you nodded, kissing her head and leaving to the art store.

You practically had the directions memorized by how much your girlfriend went there.

As you walked in, you saw Hyunjin in the store and walked over to him. "Hey Hyunnie," You said, "I didn't know you shopped here too." As you finished your sentence he jumped. "Oh, it's just you..." He said, taking a sigh. "Of course, who else would it be Hyunnie." You told him as he turned around and turned his slightly downwards. "Did you just call me 'Hyunnie'?" He asked as you nodded.

"Woah, you have so many feminine features." You told him, moving his hair out of his face to look at his face. "Your eyelashes are so long, your hair is silky smooth, not to mention your lips are amazing, they are plump and full." You admired as he pulled back. "Thank you..." He thanked softly as you smiled.

"Only a week and a half left. How's your painting?" You asked as he stood frozen in place. "I-It's done, just gotta add a few more details." He said, his voice stuttering in the beginning. "Are you okay Hyunnie what's up with the stutters. "It's nothing. I'm gonna go pay. I'll see you whenever y/nnie..." He said as he got in line.

.°•○>><<○•°.

After he paid for his stuff, he walked home blushing like crazy, thinking about the situation. You gave him a nickname. That alone made Hyunjin blush. What made him blush even more was that you had touched his hair and his face. That drove him wild.

He didn’t know what to do. He felt awkward and didn’t know how to reply. He hid his face all the way home. He saw your car as you rolled down your window.

"Hey, it's kind of hot, you want a ride home? I have the ac cranked up." You offered as he nodded and sat in the back seat. "Hey, I'm not your uber, I'm your friend, come sit next me in the passenger seat." He nodded and sat in the passenger seat.

While Hyunjin sat and buckled his seatbelt you put your phone on the phone stand on your car. "What's your address?" You asked, he told you his address as you smiled and put on his gps. "Feel free to play music." You said as Hyunjin nodded.

He put on his favorite song, i hate to admit by Bangchan.

You smiled as you sang along to the song. Hyunjin was surprised as you sang. "You know this song?" He asked as you nodded. "This song helped me through my hardest times. When my mother passed. I felt really alone because I never met my father and losing the only other parental figure in my life hurt." You told him. He felt bad and tried reaching for your hand but he restrained himself and took his hand back.

"I'm sorry to hear that y/nnie..." He said as you chuckled, "Don't be, I know my mother would've loved to be with me right now. She still is but spiritually." He said, grabbing the photo in his visor mirror. "She would've loved Jiah." He said as Hyunjin felt his heart break. "How did you meet Jiah?" He asked as you smiled. "She had sprained her ankle during a class field trip. I had merely helped her and took her to the closest medical tent. She was grateful and offered me coffee. What became a mutual hang out became another, and another, then a date, then another date, then another, and soon we ended up dating. I asked her out, and she agreed."

Hyunjin nodded at the story, not knowing that the truth would hurt this badly.

"She was the highlight of my life." You said as Hyunjin bit his lower lip trying to ignore the watery eyes. "So why do you listen to this song Hyunnie?" You asked as he looked at you. "Similar to you. It helps me out and calms me down. It makes me understand that," He stopped his words as he sighed, "It makes me understand that I'm never going to have the one I want. I will only be on the side but never in frame." He said looking forward.

You sighed. "I know how that feels but hey, you're a catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you Hyunjin."

As you said that, he caught himself smiling slightly. The way his name rolled off your tongue just made the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

You pulled up to a house. "This your house?" You asked as he looked outside. "Yeah, this is it." He said unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his things. "Thank you y/nnie..." He silently thanked as you smiled. "Anytime Hyunnie."

As you went inside, he saw you drive off as he walked slowly, then he fell to the floor. Sobbing. He knew that he would never have a chance with you, but hearing how much you love your girlfriend just made his heart hurt in a way unimaginable. As he cried, his painting sat on the easel. Waiting to be showcased and finished.

.°•○>><<○•°.

You arrived back at your place, where your girlfriend was peacefully painting. Finishing the last few touches.

"Looks great jagiya." You said as she turned. "Y/n!" She exclaimed, hugging you close and tight. "I missed you." She said calmly this time as you smiled. "I missed you too." You said as she looked up at you. "What took you so long?" She asked, pulling you to the couch to sit. "I saw Hyunjin and dropped him off at home." You told her as she beamed and smiled. "I always thought Hyunjin was amazing! I always admired his art. I think I would've left you for him if he gave me a chance." She teased as you made a noise of surprise. "I'm just kidding jagi! I'm kidding! You know I love you too much for that!" She said. You hugged her close just then, "Good!" You said jokingly as she giggled. "Let me gooo! I need to finish!" She sang out as you tickled her. "Not a chance." You said while she laughed.

After calming down, she finished her painting. "All done! Now I need to write a title and the explanation on paper to have it exhibited and sign my name on it once it's dry." She said as you looked confused. "Why do you have to do all that?" You asked as she giggled. "So it's, professional jagi." She told you as she went to the kitchen. "What do you want to eat? Dinner is on me tonight." She said as you covered your mouth. "No offense jagi... but you're better off painting..." You teased. "Why you little... fine! Then you can starve!" She said. "I'm kidding! Jagi! Jiah!" You said chasing after her.

`○°.• ✿ •.°○`

It was the night before the exhibition. Your girlfriend loaded everything in your car as she smiled. "You ready for tomorrow?" You asked as she nodded. "So ready!" She replied as you took her inside to sleep.

.°•○>><<○•°.

Hyunjin had just finished writing the explanation. He smiled sadly at his piece. If any other person saw him, they'd think Hyunjin was unhappy or sad about his piece. Truth be told, it was because of the piece that he was sad. Hyunjin loaded everything in his car and slept, ready for the exhibition tomorrow.

Hyunjin got up, washed his face, brushed his teeth, did his skincare, ate, applied a lip balm, packed his bag and left. Ready for the exhibition.

When he got there he saw other students from his school with fabulous pieces. They didn't cover theirs like Hyunjin did but he knew that his painting was special to him.

He had seen you and Jiah together. You kissed Jiah and wished her good luck. That. Had hurt. He saw Jiah's painting. It was beautiful but again, nothing could compare to how special his painting was.

After all the contestants, Jiah was second to last and Hyunjin was last.

"Now welcome up on the stage, Miss Kim Jiah!" They called out as she walked up, placing her painting on the easel. "Hello everyone! I'm Kim Jiah. My painting is titled 'Till Death Do Us Part'. The reason I chose this is because, ironically, enough. My boyfriend and I plan to get married after high school. I know it's super sickening, but listen to me. The reason why I chose this is because I don't know what I would do without him. I really do value my loved ones. My role model in my life was always my father because he swore to my mother this vow when they got married. My mother cheated on him, and yet he forgave her and ended up being with her even when she was pregnant with another child that wasn't his. He loved her. He really did. Then the accident came. My mother was barely clinging to life, and my father told the doctors to take anything they needed from him to save her. Unfortunately, my half-sister passed, and that same day, I lost both my parents. I remember my mother telling my father she was pregnant with another child who wasn't his, and all he did was hold her hand and told her, 'I'll never stop loving you. I forgive you. Remember our vows. Till death do us part.' Thank you for listening.' She said as the audience erupted in applause.

The announcer then stepped onto the stage, "Thank you so much for that Miss Kim with your painting and your story of the origin of that painting. Now, welcome onto the stage, our previous winner of last year, Hwang Hyunjin!" As Hyunjin stepped onto the stage, the audience clapped and cheered. Hyunjin placed his covered painting on the easel. "Hello, as some of you may know. My name is Hwang Hyunjin." He said looking for you in the audience. Once he locked eyes with you, he knew that this was going to be a scary yet relieving explanation. "My painting is called, 'Always the Artist, Never the Muse.'" He said as he unveiled the painting, it was the most beautiful painting of a man. A man similar looking to you. "The reason why I painted this man is because this is the man that I love." He admitted as the audience murmured. "I know what you guys are thinking, but just listen. I've loved this man for so long. Since my grade school years. I watched him grow and become amazing. However, I know that he would never see me like that. I say that because he has someone who he holds dear to him already. I'm honestly jealous. I wish I could be that close to his heart as she is. Whenever I see them, my heart breaks knowing that I could've been the one in his arms. I know that sounds selfish. But I couldn't ask for someone more or even close to perfect as him. He is just the most amazing person you'll know. He and I just got closer recently and all I feel is my heart jumping out at my chest whenever I talk to him. But whenever he looks at me with those eyes, it's because he's not looking at me, he's looking behind me. Those eyes are just for me to see that it's a sight that will never belong to me. so I decided to capture that loving look he gives to his girlfriend, because I am always the artist, never the muse. Thank you for taking the time to listen to me." He said as he looked at you. Who just stood there shocked. As the audience roared in applause and cheers as some cried. Hyunjin bowed, took his painting, and went off the stage taking a sigh of relief as the other contestants congratulated him for coming out to the world.

After all the art pieces were exhibited. Hyunjin sat by his piece, as he felt another person sit next to him. He looked, and it was you.

"Hey." You said. "Hey." Hyunjin replied as you started, "Look-" Hyunjin cut you off, "I know don't worry y/n. I know you don't love me or see me that way." He said as you sighed. "It's not just that. But, Jiah isn't comfortable with me being friends with you when we are both aware that you have feelings for me. I'm sorry Hyunjin." You said dryly as you stood up. "I'm glad I could be here to support you at least." You said, walking away.

Before Hyunjin could cry they called all the contestants on stage.

"Votes are in and now the student winning the scholarship is..." Everything went in one ear out the other, Hyunjin could've cared less, because he lost someone important to him that's what Hyunjin considered a tragedy to all. "Hwang Hyunjin! Our infamous winner from the year before as well!" The announcer said, as Hyunjin was given an envelope of acceptance to KNUA. Hyunjin didn't care. He had lost the person most important to him. It was more important than this stupid acceptance paper. To him, you were the world.

He fell to the floor in tears because he knew that him being with you would never happen. Only in his dreams, because he is always the artist, never the muse.

INTP and Friends

How in the ever loving fuck do you make friends as an INTP? I am fully aware that being an INTP has little to do with my lack of social/ friend making skills but I need something to blame my ineptitude on. I tried blaming it on my zodiac sign. I’m a Sagittarius so that didn’t work. 

I need an INTP adoption agency to hand out my resume to people willing to adopt a stray. “Looking for a shadow creature of a friend that will only text you back every other blue moon but still wants to be included in everything you do? Would you like a friend who’s just kind ~there~?”

Adopt your INTP today*

*No refunds or take backs. It’s for life.

Of Flowers and Death~ -Hanahaki AU

fem! reader x Zhongli, Zhongli x Guizhong, implied Zhongli x Lumine

warnings:- angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, graphic descriptions of blood and violence. (lemme know if i missed anything) length-2.8k words a/n:- Mmm yes my favorite oneshot till date. stay till the end for that juicy angst haha (i have been writing for over two hours everything hurts but its worth it) Likes comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, and do check out my childe smau too!

Edit:- there is a sequel now- Regret, Guilt, Anguish

masterlist

“Oh..” you murmured in less than a whisper. You were hidden behind a few rocks; you had come to meet Morax, the god of Liyue, but your dearest friend, Guizhong, was already there with him, and it looked like they were having a moment. You couldn’t help but want to listen in, because after all it was Morax who you had loved for most of your life.

You were a foreigner to Liyue; you came from Inazuma. But you weren’t any ordinary Inazuman. You were the third and youngest of the Raiden sisters, who ruled over Inazuma itself. No one other than the archons knew about your existence, because Ei and Makoto kept you a secret, protected. Although not many knew, there had indeed been a few attempts on the lives of the Raiden sisters, and this was what they wanted to protect you from.

After you had a few centuries of battle experience and training under your bag, you were allowed to explore the world. You were not tied down with the duties of ruling Inazuma. Naturally, you attracted the attention of the gods, each one of them remarking on how you inherited all the characteristic features of the Raidens.

Only the heavens above knew how you managed to become the best friend of one of the major gods, and that too Morax. But he was the reason you chose to settle down in Liyue. As time passed, your feelings for Morax, also called Zhongli by his friends, also grew more than platonic.

Now see, you knew Morax was something of a blockhead when it came to feelings. So you didn’t think much when Morax kept sending you mixed signals. You both were immortal gods after all, you had all the time in the world. You continued to hopelessly fool yourself, thinking that just perhaps, there was a chance of him loving you back.

Then came the goddess of Dust, Guizhong. A minor goddess she was, but a wonderful one. It didn’t take her too long to make her way into everyone’s hearts, including yours and Zhongli’s. While you both quickly grew into fast friends, there was just one thing that constantly irked you. Just one. It was the way she quickly grew so incredibly close to Zhongli.’

You knew that Guizhong fancied Zhongli; she confessed it to you yourself. You were forced to merely plaster a fake smile upon your face and laugh her words off.

That brought you to this day: watching Guizhong confess to Zhongli. And the amount of heartbreaking anguish when Zhongli accepted with a smile, pulling her in close, after having remained oblivious to all your advances over the decades…. It was just… You couldn’t handle it. It was too much.

You quietly sneaked away as soon as possible. And then.. And then came the coughs and the bloodstained petals. Being from Inazuma, you knew all about it of course. Hanahaki. Needless to say, you were horrified. Since that day, you somewhat avoided the duo on the pretext of the ongoing Archon War. It was here that you showed your true battle prowess as a Raiden. You alone decimated entire armies of the enemies, leaving not even ashes.

The war went on for months. You lost many allies in fighting to ensure that Makoto and Morax got seats in the Seven. Till sundown you fought without relent, showing that even a beauty can be dangerous. At night, you gave your fallen comrades the proper, respectful  farewell they deserved. By now, only the last few contenders for the heavenly thrones were left. The last opponent for Morax was the ocean god, Osial, in Guyun Stone Forest, and his followers. Recognising the serious threat he posed, you did agree to team up with Morax to eliminate him. The path for Morax to become an archon would then become clear. Through experience, you both knew that you two together were a formidable force. 

The battle was a long and exhausting one. You both started at sunrise, and barely managed to subdue him by sundown, having understood that even with their combined power, they would not be able to kill Osial. You both went back to your makeshift camp, looking forward to just resting for the night. Thank the gods you had very few coughing fits during the battle.

And yet, the moment you stepped past the protected borders, you felt that familiar eerie chill that crept up your spine. The heavy silence that hung ominously, the one that meant something was dreadfully, terribly wrong. And you were right. You took in the scene. The five Yakshas of Liyue were present, and they seemed to be sealing some sort of hexagonal structure, which was suspended above a figure. And the figure…

Was Guizhong.

Any dislike you harboured towards the Goddess of Dust disappeared as you laid your eyes upon the figure that had been turned to stone. The first and utmost thought in your mind was that something was wrong with your second best friend. Evidently Morax had come to the same conclusion. He let out a strangled sound as you both ran towards what remained of Guizhong. As you both gingerly touched her as if she was made of glass instead of stone, you knew. It was clear- Guizhong was no more.

Despite your stormy emotions, it seemed you were capable of only letting out a few tears. Morax seemed to be physically incapable of crying, yet his emotions were plainly displayed on his face for all to see. 

That night, you stayed with Morax, doing your best to comfort him, despite needing comfort yourself. Neither of you had any more tears to shed. 

That night, Morax has emerged as one of the Seven with your help, but you both lost Guizhong along the way.

~◈~

2 millenia had passed since the Archon War, and it left its scars on everyone. However, you could be lying if you said that you didn’t feel relieved that Guizhong was out of the way. You also felt guilty for feeling like that. But it was rather funny, how you managed to survive with your hanahaki for 2000 years, while most died within a few months. You supposed the reason was that Morax, who now completely lived as the mortal Zhongli in the Harbor, was seriously the absolute master at giving out mixed signals. He often unknowingly did things that lovers did, giving you hope. Yet that hope gets squashed a few days later, and the cycle continues. In all honesty, the hanahaki wasn’t really a big problem, more like a chronic disease that you had come to accept as a part of your life.

You knew that while Zhongli had mostly recovered by now, he still irrationally blamed himself for Guizhong’s death. You often told him to move on, yet he never said anything. You could see how opposed he was to the idea though. That’s why it was a surprise when he invited you to his office in the funeral parlor right after you returned from Inazuma. You could see on his face that there was something that pleased him. He first enquired about your travels and stuff, then said, “[name], do you remember how you’ve always told me to move on?” “Oh yes. Have you been thinking about that?” “Indeed. Although Guizhong will always have a special place in my heart, I believe that I am now ready to mingle again. I realised recently… that I have feelings for someone new.” 

You couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement you felt on hearing those words.Was this finally it? “That’s great Zhongli! Who is it?” “Do you know the Traveler, Lumine? It’s her. I met her a while back, when you were out on your travels. I love her so much.” He proceeded to tell you all about Lumine. He was lovestruck and you could see that. With every word he spoke, you felt your heart drop more into your stomach. You were doomed. Utterly doomed.

All this time, you’d just been deluding yourself, lying to yourself. He had never loved you, and he never would. You were struggling to keep your easy smile glued to your face as yet again, you felt something rise up your throat. You politely managed to excuse yourself, your voice coming out all scratchy and raw. Once you walked out of his cabin, you sprinted towards the confines of your home. By the time you locked yourself in, some petals had already escaped and blood was smeared across your palm. 

You were hunched over the sink, which was already full of flowers and blood within a few minutes. It hurt. Everything did, both your body and your broken heart. You knew your impending death was near, because never had your hanahaki been this severe. You couldn’t undergo the surgery because Zhongli was a massive part of your life, and simply forgetting about him would raise a barrage of questions. Plus, you still loved Zhongli too much to forget about him, despite the fact that somewhere deep down, you always knew that he’d never love you back.

~◈~

Your time was very close. The past few days had been spent isolated into the confines of your home, claiming to be exhausted from your latest journey whenever someone came to visit. Funnily enough, today was the day when Zhongli’s former love, and your former best friend, Guizhong, had died. In short, her death anniversary. Seemed it would be yours too.

You usually avoided visiting Guizhong’s memorial and burial site, which was in an isolated cave near Liyue Harbour. However today you thought it was fitting for you to pay your respects to her for the last time. And so, you dragged yourself out in the early morning, before sunrise. You left before anyone could see you, before he could see you.

By the time you are at your destination, your condition has significantly worsened due to the physical strain. It’s all you can do to respectfully place the flowers beside her memorial and lean against the wall. You began to speak to no one in particular in a cracked voice. “Hey Gui…? I hope.. You are at.. Peace… Just know that… I’ve never… hated you.. You’ve always been my.. Best friend.”

“How lucky you were… to be loved by Zhongli.”

Your throat choked up, not because of emotion, but because of another bout of bloody flowers. Not wanting to die there because he would see you, you got yourself out and into another deserted cave just beside. Not the best, but you had no choice. You had merely left a few petals at the entrance of both caves and a faint trail of blood in between.

By now, you had fallen to the ground in searing agony as flower after bloodstained flower forced its way out of your raw throat. You were lying on a bed of the flowers you yourself had coughed out.

How long it had been, you did not know. Perhaps minutes, perhaps hours. You started coughing again, not a moment’s respite. Your life force was almost completely drained. Any moment now.. You would be free.

It was then that you heard a horrified voice ring through the silence. “[Name]!”

~◈~ 

Zhongli was up at sunrise. Despite his new love, his mood was somber- it was Guizhong’s death anniversary. He had every intention to continue visiting her memorial. As usual, he sought you out. There was a rare chance that if you were in the mood, you would accompany him to pay respects to Guizhong. Yet when he knocked at your door several times and received no response, he chose to leave you alone, despite being slightly worried. You usually did respond at the very least, but he was sure you were alright,

He stopped short in front of the cave which housed Guizhong’s memorial. There was a fresh bouquet of Glaze lilies. But who brought them here? Especially since this place was practically unheard of. He took a few quick steps forward and kneeled down to inspect the bouquet. His heart lurched.

Attached to the bouquet was a small note that said, ‘To my dearest best friend, Guizhong.’ There was no name, but he recognised the handwriting well enough. [name] had already been here. Without him? Was there a reason?

His eyes were drawn to something else too. Relatively new footprints in the soil. And blood.

Blood?

His heavy footsteps echoed in the cave as he quickly walked out, following the faint trail of footprints, blood and petals. They were leading him to a nearby cave. His heart rate accelerated as he heard heavy coughing.  And behold the sight that awaited him- an utterly pretty bed of flowers and petals stained in a blood red, and someone coughing while lying on it.

“[Name]!” He cried out, completely horrified.

You curled into yourself even more on hearing his voice. All you wanted was to die in peace, why did he have to make things more difficult? Why did he have to come here? The flowers started choking and constricting your throat on their way up, ever more unrelenting, fueled by the appearance of the one who caused them. It was so hard to breathe… Just a bit more…

You felt yourself being gently lifted into someone’s strong and warm embrace. You weakly met Zhongli’s eyes, which were full of panic. You’d only seen him lose his composure like this once before, his fear more than evident on his face. “[name]- I- What happened? Please, tell me! I- I can’t lose you too!” He exclaimed frantically, feeling your life ebb away second by second, with each cough that released blood and Glaze lilies.

Your throat constricted even more, making it excessively hard to breathe. You just wanted to rest, It was all you could do to force a few broken words from your raw throat.

“...Hana..haki…” That was all Zhongli needed to know to understand. His pupils dilated in fear even more. “Who.. Who is it who made you suffer this way?” Zhongli whispered, unable to take in your completely broken state. You didn’t respond for a few moments, feeling your eyelids shut. You forced them open, not wanting to leave him hanging. “Always.. Loved you.. Always will… Be happy.. For me.. Okay? That is my last wish.” You weakly tried to reach a hand towards Zhongli, who instantly grasped it tightly in hsi, and pressed it against his face, as the realisation hit him like a truck. “What..?” He whispered softly.

Your eyes started to droop again, and you gave in, feeling nothing but qa soft ringing in your ears as your senses dulled. “[name], no, please don’t leave me!” Zhongli cried out in panic, grief and anguish, seeing you slip away from him. You simply let a small smile rest on his face as you whispered, “Just.. sleeping.. Tired.” Unable to accept your fate, he whispered, “Sleep well then, my dearest.”

But you never lived to hear that.

Because then you moved no more.

Was fate trying to mock him with [name] dying in his arms, in front of him, on the same day as Guizhong’s death? You were always there for him, always there with him, until you weren’t. And never in his immortal life was Zhongli able to forgive himself for this, knowing that he was the reason you were dead.

mm yes now hows that huh? gonna disappear for a few days now haha

Prompt #441

“It’s just a dance. What are you afraid of?”

If my body could sprak; "eat" by blythe baird // ocean voung // pinterest // ? // @ibvyache // holly warburton // @star-eaters @antidecay // @chenchenwrites on twitter // domenico fiasella // hum, hum by mary oliver

romantic subtext? thats just text

Why do I feel like you're nvr gonna read all this....?

@unluckyxxxxxxx

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL TO END UP WITH YOU

swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover. and you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me, and at every table, i'll save you a seat, lover

relationship is a thing that is hard to understand, more so to maintain. but perhaps, being willing to sacrifice and truly show love for each other may just be the answer to the so-called complicated thing known as "relationship".

sfw, no warnings, just pure fluff. this is a repost from my old account── starring. kamisato ayato, xiao, and childe

ayato makes time for you despite his busy schedule. it is something that most people consider as bare-minimum, but ayato is different. as the head of the kamisato clan, there are lots of meetings he needs to attend to, stacks of papers he needs to sign and review as soon as possible. ayato making time for you means you're special.

even if it's just a minute or an hour, he won't really mind. as long as you'll be able to spend atleast some hours of the day with each other, it is more than enough.

xiao comes whenever you call for him. it's not like he doesn't when there are people in danger. but xiao specifically comes to you, with or without any threat and danger. need some hugs? call out his name. you need to go somewhere to pick flowers, call him! he actually won't mind. in fact, he loves it.

mortal life is fleeting and it can be gone in a blink of an eye, so xiao is not one to complain whenever you call him for whatever reason you may have.

childe comes home to you in one piece. a harbinger, a very dangerous job. childe-tartaglia never backs down from any battle, as he always takes any opportunity he has to make himself stronger. loving someone like childe is not an easy task, for you are always worried for his well-being. it's not that you don't trust him and his skills, but he is too reckless and no one knows what might happen to him one day.

he might be a guy who looks for trouble wherever he goes, but he's serious that he fights to make himself stronger. childe wants to be stronger, so he'd be able to protect his family, to protect you, always.

© hitsdifrent 2023 please do not repost on other sites.

@unluckyxxxxxxx

JUST FOR THE WEEKEND.

summary: visiting your first love from your hometown is always difficult, especially when you both know you won’t be around for long. featuring arataki itto, thoma, and kaveh.

contains: 1.9k words. hurt no comfort. childhood friends to almost lovers.

a/n: i quoted lyrics from tis the damn season by taylor swift :) this honestly hurt to write, as a girl who thinks about hometowns and nostalgia very often

Sleep in half the day, just for old times sake. I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.

“Y/N, I got you a farewell gift!” Itto calls out happily. The familiar voice is like music to your ears. Returning home after so long was always interesting; especially since your usual trips frequented less and less as the time went on. But either way, you would come and go. And every time, Itto would be there to greet you with a smile. Leaving your hometown was hard. Leaving him was worse. But a small town in Inazuma couldn’t bring your dreams to life. However, Mondstadt could.

Itto can’t help but feel helpless whenever you return, only for you to leave again. He wanted you to chase your dreams, but he’d just wish he’d be there for that too. Or maybe he wished you’d find a way to stay. No matter what, Itto was there, and your feelings for each other were too. But he knew you’d eventually leave - who was he to hold you back? He remembers the last night before you left. Hushed whispers and pinky promises under the stars, making you swear to visit him as much as you could. “Of course I will, you’re my best friend.” was your response. The two of you knew it was more than that, but speaking up wouldn’t have made the goodbye easier.

You smile at Itto’s enthusiasm. “Oh yeah?” Your voice has a teasing edge.

He grins back, pulling out a small gift box from behind his back. He plops himself next to you, handing you the box. You open it with a screen-worthy smile, gently pulling out the necklace inside. The chain glimmered under the sunset, the pendant shimmering in the dim light. You look closely at the engraved words. “For old times sake.” it read. You feel your eyes sting with tears, facing away from him. You blink rapidly to hold them back, clutching the necklace. “Thank you, Itto.” You choke out. Your back faces him, but you can feel the melancholy coming from his form. Silence emerges between the two of you, apart from your slight sniffles.

“…Did you ever wish you never left?” Itto’s mood is a complete 180. The two of you were now back to back, unable to see the other’s expression.

“What do you mean?” Your voice is quiet. You know damn well what he meant.

“Like, Inazuma.” He says. “Did you ever regret moving away from here? From…” He hesitates for a moment. “…From me? Or us, if we ever even had something like that.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you regret it. How could you not? Sure, your career might be booming in Mondstadt, but what’s the point of stability with no satisfaction? With no him? Leaving all you had ever known and loved for an opportunity in Mondstadt. Besides, even if things became official, who said you guys would last? You knee you’d be busy. You couldn’t have been there for him like a proper partner. If you could go back in time, you’d turn down every opportunity if it meant you could be next to him. With him. But you couldn’t dump all of that on him now.

He sighed, taking your silence as an answer. You’ve never heard him so dejected before. “It’s okay. I hope Mondstadt is doing you well.” You feel the tears begin to build up again, but you can’t stop them this time. They fall freely, like rain in the night sky. He begins to speak again. “I think we could’ve worked out, you know.”

But that’s what stings the most. He was there. In some other universe, the two of you were happy, the whole time.

So I’ll go back to L.A, and the so-called friends who’ll write books about me if I ever make it. And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking.

Thoma’s arms are locked around you, caging you in as if you’d disappear forever if he dared to loosen his grip. His bedroom is silent, save for the occasional hitched breath or soft sniffle. It was your first visit to Inazuma ever since the Vision Hunt was over, and Inazuma was open again. You left not long before the initial shutdown, and you were unable to return home, finding refuge in Liyue instead. You rebuilt your life in the land of Geo, becoming a successful writer. Liyue became your home, and your time in Inazuma slowly faded from memory. But there was one thing about Inazuma that you would never forget; Thoma. How could you forget him, your first everything. Your first kiss, your first date, the first boy to give you flowers.

Above all, he was also your first heartbreak. The pain of being away from him felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. But as time went on, you learned to live apart. You learned to be away from him, but being in his arms again makes you feel like you’re right back at square one.

“I have to go, Thoma.” You whisper. “I have to get back home.”

“You are home.” He chuckles lightly. “This is our home.” He gestures to the space around the two of you.

You sigh shakily. “No, Thoma,” You try to get the words out. “Liyue. I need to get back to my home in Liyue.” Your eyes refuse to meet his own.

His heart shatters in an instant as the realization hits him like a boulder. This isn’t your home anymore. He wasn’t your home anymore. To Thoma, nothing screams home more than you did. Your hair, your scent, your touch. Everything about you felt like home. You were his home, but he wasn’t yours anymore. His hold on you loosens.

“Right.” He murmurs. His arms drop slightly, but they’re still wrapped around you. “Liyue.”

You reach over to remove his hands from your frame, gently grasping his wrists. Once you’re fully out of his grip, you take a step back. The space between the two of you feels like the ocean separating your respective nations. Your respective homes. The silence is deafening. Your eyes direct themselves to the floor.

“I really think you’ll change the world someday, just like you dreamed of.” His comment is sudden, but the solemn edge to his voice makes it obvious that he’s been thinking about it for a while. You glance over at him. His eyes are downcast, deep in thought. “And I’ll cheer you on the entire time.”

That comment floored you. Your tears ran freely across your cheeks, creating rivers of salt. “Thank you…” Were the only words you could choke out. The two of you sat in silence for a while, but the setting sun told you that it was over. It’s time to go.

You make your way to his door, and he seems to catch on, following behind you. “Think of me while you make history, okay?” He lets out a sad laugh. You turn to face him one last time. A wry smile etched itself onto his face. You hug him one last time. You hug him so tightly it almost seems like you’re trying to commit his body to memory. He squeezes back. His lips brush against your ear.

“Have a safe trip home.”

And the heart I know I’m breaking is my own. To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever known.

“The Akademiya is running wild over Y/N’s return.” Alhaitham mumbled, flipping the page of his book. Kaveh freezes for a moment. The pair were in the Akademiya library, each doing a personal activity. Kaveh sets his pen down, rolling up his latest project without a word. Alhaitham’s eyes look up from his book, veiled sympathy in his look. “Do you think you’ll greet them?”

Kaveh sighs softly. “I don’t know. It’s been a while.” And he was right. It’s been over a year since you graduated from the Akademiya. Beloved and idolized by so many scholars, you made the choice to leave Sumeru in hopes of traveling the world. You made the choice to leave him. Kaveh, your childhood best friend, the boy next door. The boy who saw all your worst times. The boy who cushioned every fall and lifted you up again. The boy who adored you, but was far too afraid to bring it up. The boy who loved you endlessly, even as he watched you leave, unknowing that you felt the same.

He doesn’t even get the time to fully ponder Alhaitham’s question before he notices a figure begin to near in the corner of his eye. “Kaveh,” A voice says. He didn’t need to fully look up to know it was you. Alhaitham’s eyes flicker between the two of you before he ultimately decides to take his leave, muttering a quick goodbye. Having no choice but to face you, he turns his head to look up at you from his seated position.

“Hey.” His voice is meek, as if he was afraid to overstep. You notice his awkwardness, deciding to take the seat across from him. The silence is almost painful. Anyone could tell that the tension between the two of you was so thick it could’ve been cut with a blade. “How Liyue?” He asks, finally mustering the courage.

You hum, grateful for the long awaited conversation prompt. “It’s pretty great. I got to learn a lot of things.” He sees the way your eyes have a certain shine when talking about this foreign region. It stings him to see how he used to see that shine in your eyes back in your Akademiya days. Back when you weren’t so far away. You smile softly as you retell a brief recap of your Liyue adventures.

“I’m glad.” He says. “I’m happy that you got to do what you dreamed of.” His timid smile throws you off, and you realize that the once lived familiarity between the two of you is long gone. And you know that things like that can’t just snap back after a year of each other’s absence. The silence returns. You feel as if you’re suffocating.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You whisper.

He flinches. “Tell you what?” He’s nervous, and you can tell by the way his eyes dart back and forth anxiously.

“That you loved me.” Your eyes are like storms as you look at him. Not the thunder bringing storms, but the kind with the heavy rain where the ‘pitter-patter’ keeps you up all night. He was taken aback. Was he that obvious? Were you really able to tell? “I already know, Kaveh.” A sad smile etches itself onto your face.

“Yeah, I did.” He finally responds. You’re the one who flinches this time. Not because he admitted to it with little to no resistance, but because of his choice of words. Did. Not that he does. Past tense, did. He did love you. He loved you in the past, but he doesn’t right now. You freeze up, immediately going silent.

He takes note of your discomfort and stands up, beginning to pack up his things. “Sorry, Y/N.” He apologizes. “I have… some things to work on.” You’re silent the entire time. He carries his things into his arms before looking back down at your sitting form. He opens his mouth to speak once more. He hesitates. His mouth closes. He turns around without a word, his figure slowly but surely disappearing from your line of vision.

You sit and watch him leave, the same way he did for you.

@unluckyxxxxxxx

from me, the moon

Pairing: Jing Yuan x Reader Warnings: hanahaki, angst!, implies happy ending though dw i'm not feeling THAT cruel tonight, mentions of death (no actual death) Word Count: ~2.4k A/N: spirit waking up from a nap after a midterm: omg hanahaki with jing yuan!!

To you, the sun,

You feel it before you realize it has struck you. That feeling in your chest that has begun to blossom when you're in the presence of the Jing Yuan. You become acutely aware of the way your heart thunders when he's near, the way you quiet down when he laughs to hear him, and the horrifying realization that yes, you are in love with him.

I would like to apologize in advance.

But honestly, who isn't? Who wouldn't fall in love with such a gentle soul dedicated to protecting those he loves. The sacrifices he's made for the Xianzhou Luofu are found in the warm smiles, greetings, and gifts that he receives from the people. He's effortlessly handsome, with his hair pulled back, but not enough to keep some of his hair from falling in front of his eyes. It feels like a privilege to get a glimpse of those eyes of his, pools of melted gold that soften when they fall upon those who hold a special place in his heart. you wonder what it would be like to be on the receiving end of such a look.

In the privacy of your own home, you allow yourself a moment of indulgence, to live in the fantasy of walking at his side, listening to the hum that builds from his chest as he nods along to what you would say. You imagine what it would be like to trace your hands along his skin, to cup his cheeks and turn him to face you so you can memorize his features. you wonder what it would feel like to feel his hands wander, if he could be as gentle with you as the way he holds the birds that seem to gravitate towards him.

I’m sure you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But I’ve made my bed, and it’s my time to lie in it.

Flower petals, splattered with droplets of blood, make their appearance for the first time that day.

I’m sorry.

An ancient curse, is what Bailu calls it, fixing you with a concerned stare. You can only laugh dryly at your luck, of course it would be you to have come down with some ancient curse that has caused you to cough out petals. You keep it to yourself, cradle half-bloodied flowers in your hands as you make excuses as to why you can’t join your friends for lunch, or why you can’t spend a morning to spar or play chess with the General. The less they know the better. (Right?)

Individual petals become clumps, and the clumps become half-made flowers. And by the time that the ever-attentive general decides to confront you about the sudden change in your behaviour, you're close to coughing out full flowers.

"Are you alright?" Jing Yuan asks as you sit across from him, cup of tea in your hands as you sit with your eyes closed, reveling in the warmth of your drink and that of his presence. "I haven't seen you around much. you're not avoiding me, are you?" Despite the chuckle that falls from his lips as he finishes speaking, you can still hear the hints of worry that he fails to hide. You suppose that's the result of knowing him for so long, the result of loving him for so long.

I wish I had the courage to admit it to you in person. 

"I wouldn't be here if I was avoiding you," you hum, opening your eyes to meet his. Your chest tightens when you see the concern in his eyes seem to melt away. The last thing you want is to worry him, and you hope that your attempt at banter will at least deter him for the meanwhile. but Jing Yuan is quiet, more so than usual. He spends longer studying you, making you squirm under his watchful gaze until you chide him for thinking too much.

"Well, I can tell something's on your mind, Strale for your thoughts?" he wants to know what's going on in your mind. He's not stupid, and is far too attentive to the way you seem to keep yourself at bay, holding your tongue and sipping tea as if it would keep you from speaking.

Funny how you called me the bravest you knew, and yet the one time when I should have come clean, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

"I think I might be stricken with mara." Out of the corner of your eyes you see him stiffen. You look down at the steam that curls from your cup, caressing your face as if knowing that the man next to you wouldn't do the same. 

Forceful laughter is pushed from his lips. “Don’t play jokes on me, dear. Have you come down with a cold? I know some of the Cloud Knights are out sick because of some bug that has gone around. You must have caught it when we sparred with them.” Your silence gnaws at Jing Yuan, and he can feel anxiety bubbling in his chest. It begins to grow when you turn away from him to take a breath. He watches, almost in slow motion, as you set your cup aside and look at him.

Thank you, Jing Yuan, for being my friend.

There is acceptance in your eyes, and Jing Yuan’s mouth goes dry. “Are you certain? Have you been diagnosed by a doctor? I can call for my doctor, I’m sure it’s not mara-struck—”

“Jing Yuan. There’s no other explanation,” neither of you can tell if the softness of your tone is an attempt to comfort yourself or him. His palms feel sweaty, the lump in his throat lodged so that words fail to come forth. He doesn’t like the way you say his name like this. It doesn’t roll off your tongue the way it usually does, and he finds himself grasping at anything to urge you to tell him that you might be wrong.

His desk becomes stacked with papers and reports about the mara-struck. The archivists watch as he spends longer nights conducting research, hair slipping from its hold as for the first time in years, the great General of the Xianzhou Luofu begins to lose a grasp on his composure. He calls upon Fu Xuan to divine what she can, and yet the grimace on her face paired with her admittance that the future is too foggy for her to divine makes his heart drop. 

I have loved you longer than you could imagine. Thank you for allowing me to be at your side for as long as I did. I will treasure these memories forever, no matter where I am.

He finds himself alone in his room, head in his hands as he sits at his desk. Your medical reports, handed to him by your own hands, are missing something. There’s something you’re hiding from him and he needs to know what it is. For the first time, he begins to doubt the words you’ve said to him. You’ve had no reason to lie to him thus far, so why does it feel like you’re trying to hide something serious.

He lets the anxiety fester before finally, Yanqing is the one who forces him to his feet to find the only doctor he hadn’t visited yet. Jing Yuan watches as Yanqing lets his own worries and fears come spilling out and he realizes how much your condition has affected others. He chides himself for selfishly thinking that he was the only one trying to find a cure for your illness. 

“They’re growing weaker,” Yanqing bites the inside of his cheek. “I went to visit them but I didn’t see any signs of Mara on their skin. But the Vidyadhara doctor, Bailu, was there. She gave me this letter and asked me to give it to you. She left in a hurry, but maybe we can ask her about them, right General?” There’s hope in the boy’s tone as if he too, was trying to grasp at anything to make sense of sudden fall to this illness. So clearly, a visit to the energetic doctor is next.

By this time, I’m sure you’ve uncovered the truth. The extent of my lies can only extend so far. I’m sure Bailu has spoken to you already. Be kind to her, will you?

“Mara? No, who told you that? That’s ridiculous, have you seen them? Didn’t they tell you?” Bailu stares up at him, unimpressed. “It’s Hanahaki. Surely you’ve heard of it, well, perhaps you haven’t. There’s no recorded cure. They told you all this, right?”

“They told me it was Mara,” Jing Yuan feels like he’s out of breath. He isn’t sure what to feel, the mix of emotions closing in on him. He wants to be upset with you and yet he can’t understand why you had been so bent on lying to his face. Not just him, but to Yanqing, to Yukong, to everyone else for the sake of what?

“It’s an ancient curse,” Bailu shakes her head.

Ancient curse. The words ring in his head. He figures the expressions on his and Yanqing’s faces are enough to give away their confusion. And he can only feel his chest tighten and tighten as he listens to Bailu explain the first time you came to her, tears building in the corner of your eyes, hands cupped to your chest and flecks of blood splattered on your palms. He listens as Bailu explains how you begged her not to say anything, that you would be the one to admit the truth. He listens as he hears of how your condition seemed to grow worse, day by day. He reads the medical reports that the Vidyadhara solemnly gives him and becomes acutely aware of his own shaky breath. He recognizes the days when you had gone to visit him, indulged in his requests to soak up the warmth of the sun as he put aside his work or to share stories over tea and a game of chess. The same days that you visited him are the same days that you came to Bailu.

Please, my dear, don’t blame yourself for my own faults. You have been nothing but supportive, caring, and kind. There is nothing more that I can ask of you other than you take care of yourself, please?

Jing Yuan knows loss better than anyone. He has faced loss in his own family and has watched as close friends and comrades have lost their lives on the battlefield. He knows of sacrifice, of that gut wrenching feeling when you are faced with the hard truth. He knows the feeling of defeat when he fights his master, initially hesitant in his blows before he gives into fate. The sight of his master’s thankful smile, a last moment of clarity breaks his heart. He knows of all these heartbreaking feelings, the same ones that have built up his walls, guarded his heart thus far and led him to become the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu. The scars that litter his body are a result of hundreds of years of training, of hard-won battles and choking defeats, so really, there is nothing that can shake his resolve after all that he's been through. He isn’t sure what’s worse: how easily he believed your lies, or the reality of this sickness that you’ve come down with. 

I’m sure all will be well. Don’t forget about me or I’ll haunt your dreams! (Stop falling asleep while you’re at work okay?)

He wants to yell, to go back in time and push harder for you to tell him the truth. He curses this long life that he has been cursed with. Because your time is fleeting, so quickly slipping from his grasp and he will live longer to live. He hates to imagine what it might be like when—

Visit me one last time, please?

He indulges in your request, shedding all armour and weapons at the door. He visits you with nothing but his jumble of emotions. To bring you flowers as a get-well-soon gift would be too cruel. But perhaps it’s more cruel for you to invite him over.

He hates the way you smile at him so warmly, that knowing look in your eyes prying through ivy ridden gates into his mind. You know what he wants to say, and when he sits down at your bedside and wraps his hand around yours, you squeeze gently.

“I’m sorry,” his voice breaks. You look at him curiously, about to tell him to stop apologizing, that he has nothing, and will never have anything to apologize for when it comes to you. But you stop when you catch sight of his eyes, watery golden pools that beg you to stay. He can’t get the words out but in the silence, there is more than enough said.

All my love.

(I love you, he thinks to himself. He closes his eyes and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss that he hopes will say enough. He doesn’t catch the way your eyes start to clear up and the way you gasp softly.)

From me, the moon.

———

To you, the sun,

I would like to apologize in advance. I’m sure you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But I’ve made my bed, and it’s my time to lie in it. I’m sorry. I wish I had the courage to admit it to you in person. Funny how you called me the bravest you knew, and yet the one time when I should have come clean, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Thank you, Jing Yuan, for being my friend. I have loved you longer than you could imagine. Thank you for allowing me to be at your side for as long as I did. I will treasure these memories forever, no matter where I am. By this time, I’m sure you’ve uncovered the truth. The extent of my lies can only extend so far. I’m sure Bailu has spoken to you already. Be kind to her, will you? Please, my dear, don’t blame yourself for my own faults. You have been nothing but supportive, caring, and kind. There is nothing more that I can ask of you other than you take care of yourself, please? I’m sure all will be well. Don’t forget about me or I’ll haunt your dreams! (Stop falling asleep while you’re at work okay?) Visit me one last time, please?

All my love.

From me, the moon.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: ok it's eepy time again for spirit bc i have to start working on my finals now :(

Tonight, I'm numb.

Floating on my bed,

Alone,

Breathing,

Silent,

Skin buzzing for warmth,

Eyes loving the moon,

Then, a thought of you passed by.

– Rune

@unluckyxxxxxxx

“And there is nothing between us but rain. Then there is nothing between us at all.”

— Beth Revis

“My alone feels so good. I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude.”

— Warsan Shire

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

visions

BLOODY MARY | OSIAL & MORAX

pairings: morax x fem!reader, osial x fem!reader

summary: caught between the rivalry of two gods, you, a priestess of osial, are sent to the newly founded liyue harbor during a festival honoring their deceased to add another body for the people to celebrate and mourn—none other than their god himself, morax.

genre: archon war au

warnings: fem!reader, reader is a priestess of osial, reader used as a pawn between osial and morax, heavy power imbalance so could be read as dubcon (gods vs mortal), reader wears a dress, sacrilege + desecration of the dead??? (osial fucks reader in his own temple on a throne that he built from the bones of old gods), osial is manipulative trying to get reader to agree to kill morax, mentions of breeding, outdoor sex (morax), semi-public sex (osial & morax), biting (osial & morax), morax grabs reader by the neck but not enoughto hurt, unprotected sex (osial & morax)

notes: god this wasn’t supposed to have any osial in it but i saw a fanart that @/galair made friday night and it consumed my mind body and soul. no monsterfucking or tentacles this time 💔 i’m not confident enough in writing that yet, perhaps next time — this is long, and i had a lot of fun writing it, so as always reblogs for boost are appreciated

tags: @tweris @mxnjiros @hanmas @dxlucs @7rkx @albedophoria @manjiroscum @festive @suyacho @niicevibe @alucrds @dynalite @tokyometronetwork

wordcount: 9.2k

The sand of the beach of the Guyun Forest was cool beneath your feet, you kept your breath steady as you waited for the telltale sign from Osial of what today would bring--storms or clear skies, still waters or rapid currents, would it be a day at sea for the people of Guyun Forest? Or would it be a day locked to the land? 

The sun broke slowly over the distant horizon, casting a glow over the unusually calm waters--the God of the vast sea of clouds was in a good mood today, you realized, today would be a productive day at sea. 

You lingered, an eerie feeling sweeping over you just for a moment--as if you should wait for something. But nothing happened, the sea remained still, the sun steadily rising in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing against your skin and ruffling your dress. You exhaled, turning away to make your way back to the temple so you could give up your offerings, to give thanks for a merciful day at last. 

The storms had been overwhelming for the past two weeks, a declaration of anger, war even, against the god who had risen to power south of Mount Tianheng in Osial’s territory--Morax, the God of Geo, the only god remaining in the nearby territory that could rival Osial for power, surpass him, even. 

You pushed the thought from your head--it was sacrilege, heresy to doubt Osial’s strength. He had proven his power time and time again in his war to conquer the Sea of Clouds and its shore--a war that he had won with ease all the while protecting the people of Guyun Forest, ensuring that they did not get caught up in the conflict between the gods. 

But you couldn’t help the nerves that crept through you--the reminder of the stone lances that towered into the sky on the borders of the Guili Plains, weapons of war that had slain gods and destroyed towns. Osial was strong, you had to remind yourself again.

But-

Your thoughts paused as you felt the waters creep so far into the shore that it swept beneath your feet, gentle and slow, as if trying to get your attention. You turned your head over your shoulder, breath drawing sharp as you recognized the figure that had appeared standing waist-deep in the water, watching you carefully.

Osial emerged from the water, expression lax and deep blue hair tumbling past his shoulders down to his waist. You swore that no air reached your lungs, gaze averting down to the ground at the sight of him. You knelt down, the sand damp and sticking to your knees.

You didn’t dare look up even as he approached, not until he was standing right in front of you, fingers grazing your chin before his grip tightened, tilting your head up and forcing you to look at him. 

“Lord Osial,” your voice came out as little over a breath, wavering--you wondered if he had felt your doubts, sensed your lack of faith, but Osial was a prideful god and he did not seem to be angry. Looks are deceptive, you thought to yourself, the sea can look calm while the rip currents beneath could drown the strongest swimmer, and Osial is the epitome of the sea. 

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing it, and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling--it took all of your self-control to force your eyes back open, looking up at him through your lashes. Osial had an ethereal sort of beauty about him, ever-bored and unimpressed, eyes that reflected the deepest parts of the sea, his skin was smooth to the touch and his nails were sharp, weapons in itself, but he was always gentle with you… at least in situations like this. 

“You do not think I can defeat Morax,” your world stilled as he finally addressed you, words so soft-spoken that you barely even heard him. His touch was gentle, and his words were soft, but he was angry--the blues of his eyes swirled like a vortex forming deep in the sea. 

“My L-” you tried to explain yourself but you faltered under his gaze, lips parting and closing as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation for your doubt--lying to Osial would do nothing but draw his ire further. To wound his pride and then to lie to his face as if he wouldn’t know… It was like asking for the sea to swallow you whole. 

“Come.”

Osial’s hand dropped from your face and you felt cold as he swept past you to walk toward his temple. You didn’t move for a second, staring ahead at the open sea as you processed his words before you scrambled to your feet, following behind him. No thoughts were running through your head as you followed the god into his temple--the air was damp, cool enough to have you shivering, but Osial paid no mind, his body immune to the weaknesses mortals dealt with. 

He paused as the two of you entered a large room, an altar situated in the center where you made your offerings, a large throne made of an odd material that you had never quite been able to figure out was. 

Osial didn’t speak for a moment, shifting to stand behind you, chest pressed against your back. You let out a shaky puff of air when you felt his hands come to your biceps, holding you in place and forcing you to look forward toward the throne. His fingers were long and lithe, smoothing against your bare skin.

“Do you know what this place was before it became my temple?” Osial’s lips brushed your ear as he spoke, breath warm and so dizzying that you could barely bring yourself to answer.

“Yes,” you breathed out, trying to hold yourself steady, stop your knees from giving out. “It was your seat of power before the war began, and during the beginning of it.”

Osial hummed, pleased with your answer, and your head buzzed at the thought of satisfying the god, a light-headed feeling that had your knees weak. Osial did not pull away though, evidently not finished with his questioning. “Do you think I am a kind god, priestess?” 

You froze, head spinning at the question--was it a trick? Would he be insulted if you called him kind? Would he be insulted if you called him cruel? How do you respond?

“You are kind to your followers, Lord Osial,” you said softly, trying desperately to hide the anxiety you felt over whether or not your answer would anger him. 

Osial made a noise in the back of his throat, akin to a laugh. “Good answer,” he said quietly, and you wondered if that had been a test--if it had, you had a feeling that you passed, relaxing under his touch. 

But only for a second, because in an instant, Osial was gone. Instead of standing behind you, he was now in front of you, lounging back on the pale throne, watching you carefully. Your breath caught as he leaned forward, robes hanging off his shoulders loosely, fingers interlocked between his knees. 

“Do you think I won the war for the sea through diplomatic means?” The amusement that might have begun to form in Osial’s tone was gone, replaced by something cold that had a shiver running down your side. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to answer.

You shook your head, throat spasming as you tried to force the words from your throat. “No,” you finally said. “I don’t.”

“Do you know what this throne is made of?” 

Your mouth dried, confusion flooding your system as your gaze dragged down to the throne he was sitting on before you looked back up at him. He was waiting for a response, expression closed off and unfriendly. You shook your head but Osial only tilted his head to the side, waiting for you to voice your answer out loud.

“I don’t,” you said, voice hoarse.

“I built this throne out of the bones of the old gods I slaughtered at the beginning of the war,” your ears rang as he spoke--his voice smooth and silken, calm as if he hadn’t desecrated the bodies of gods after killing them. You stared at him, processing the words slowly, waiting for him to continue but he did not. “Morax encroached on my territory. The land south of Mount Tianheng was rightfully mine, I killed the former God of the Sea and piked his head on the Chihu Rock.”

You didn’t speak, even if you wanted to speak, you weren’t sure what you would say. 

“And yet you still think I’ll fall to Morax,” Osial murmured, observing you. You shook your head, opening your mouth to deny the accusation but Osial’s expression left no room for argument. “You do. You don’t think I can sense what my priestess is thinking?”

My, he said it so fondly, in a way that made you feel warm despite the cool air within the temple.

“Come,” another order--your body moved on autopilot as you made your way toward him, the stone of the temple was cold beneath your feet and only got colder as you drew closer to Osial, to the throne.

You paused right in front of him, wondering if you should kneel or bow your head but Osial spoke again before you could.

“I said come,” his voice was sharper and your brows furrowed as you tried to figure out what he meant. He had leaned back in his throne again and it only took him glancing down at his lap once for you to realize what he meant. Your lips parted in shock, fingers trembling at your sides--your teeth scraped against your tongue, a warm feeling building in your lower stomach as you realized what exactly he wanted. 

Your body itched to move forward but you hesitated, and you wouldn’t have if he hadn’t just told you what the throne he was sitting on was made of. On the throne made of… there was a lump in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow, be it from anxiety or the prospect of what was to come 

Osial watched you, eyes lidded and heavy, expression not having shifted once from the cool indifference. You took in a deep breath, legs shaking beneath you as you moved forward. Your face burned in embarrassment, chest tight and not even daring to breathe as you shifted onto his lap. You were careful not to touch him, not until he explicitly gave you permission to, but your thighs were tense and trembling on either side of his, your nails dug into the arms of the throne, trying to keep yourself steady. 

Osial hummed and at once, something pressed against your back, knocking you off balance. Your hands flat against his chest as you fell forward against him. Your heart was erratic, face pressed against his shoulder and body flush to his--you could feel him pressed up against your thigh, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, you could already feel his gaze on you. 

“Look at me,” he said and yet again, your body betrayed you, head tilting up so you could look at him. 

Up close, Osial was even more ethereal--his eyes a mirror of the sea, skin nearly glowing against the morning sun shining through the large windows of the temple, his hair felt neatly on either side of his face down to his hips, you were careful not to accidentally pull it when you shifted. Beneath his thin robes, his body was littered with battle scars you had become well acquainted with. Even covered, you knew you’d be able to trace each and every one.

“Why is it that you doubt me?” he asked, but you couldn’t even hope to speak as his hands trailed up and down your thighs before slipping between them. You bit back a whimper as his fingers dipped between your folds. You should be embarrassed at how wet you were already but Osial was pleased, you could tell that much from the glint that had appeared in his eyes.

“I-I do not doubt you, Lo-” you tried to say but you faltered when his grip on one of your thighs tightened, just enough to silence you. 

“Do not lie to me, priestess,” he said, and there was a thick feeling in your throat that made you incapable of pushing out any words. Priestess, he called you, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if Osial even knew your name--you adored him, he was your god, your lover, but what were you to him? 

Nothing, a voice whispered in your head, a tool, a pet.

He favored you enough to lay with you, you wanted to argue, lips parting in a silent moan as you felt the tip of Osial’s cock slip against your cunt. And he lay with you not just once or twice, he came back frequently enough so that there was never a time his marks weren’t decorating your body, bruises from where his fingers gripped just a bit too hard, bite marks from his sharpened teeth and nails. 

Osial was a kind god to his followers but he was a cruel lover, albeit unintentionally, you liked to believe. You figured all gods were to their mortal lovers—unaware of their limits, apathetic to them, focused on their own pleasure and release. 

“You worry for me… what would you prefer then?” Osial’s tone took on a mocking lilt, nipping at the underside of your jaw as you panted, nails clawing at his loose robes as he held your hips to bring you down on his cock. Tears stung your eyes as you tried to get used to the feeling of him filling you up. This wasn’t the first time you had laid with the god, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last, but you swore every time he pushed himself into you felt like the first--you could never get used to it. “Bear my children? Give me half-gods to fight at my side?”

A long whine escaped your lips, body shaking as Osial’s nails dug into your waist, surely drawing blood, grinding you down on his cock. He was deep, too deep inside of you, your head felt fuzzy and you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of his cock stretching you out. 

“Is that what you want?” You weren’t entirely sure what he was asking. Want, want, you wanted him, you wanted him fully and completely, in every possible way. “... or would you rather something else?”

You tilted your head back as Osial’s lips trailed down your neck, leisurely and meticulous. Your nails dug into his biceps but Osial didn’t seem to care, more focused on rolling your hips against his, fucking you at a slow, agonizing pace. You couldn’t help but notice even in your half-fucked out state that Osial was being more careful than usual--his teeth were not marking up your neck as they usually did. 

“Would you rather that you, yourself, be the one to kill Morax?” 

You jolted at his words, like a splash of cold water. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you pulled back to ask what he meant but you didn’t get the chance. Instead, Osial brought you down hard on his cock and your eyes knocked back as you felt his tip brush so deep inside you that it felt like your body was on fire, splitting open on his cock.

One of his hands slipped behind your head, fisting your hair and tilting your head back down to face him. His eyes were lit up with something you couldn’t quite place in your haze, searching yours as he looked up at you. His lips brushed yours, breath hot and dizzying as it mingled with your own, “Is that what you want? You want to become a god-slayer, priestess?”

He spoke your title with a sort of reverence that had you crying out, nails dragging red lines against his arms, back arching and body spasming in his hold as you came all over his cock. He didn’t stop after you finished to give you a second to recuperate, he never did. Instead, he brought you down faster, harder. The lewd, slapping sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of your cunt echoed throughout his temple--if any of the other priestesses came by the temple to give offerings to Osial, they would know very well what was happening within there before they even laid eyes on their god fucking his high priestess. 

His grip on your hair tightened again to make you look down at him and your body was all but limp in his hold already--he had never taken you in this position before, always preferring to take you from behind, and somehow everything felt more intense, overwhelming in a way that your body couldn’t handle. 

“Some say that if a mortal is to kill a god, they can take his place,” Osial breathed out, lips dragging from the corner of yours down to your jaw, to the spot behind your ear that always had you weak. “Is that what you want? To stand at my side as my goddess? To rule over the sea and land together?”

You sobbed, not even fully processing his words as you nodded, you wanted more but you weren’t even sure if you could handle more. Osial’s hands felt as if they were everywhere, sliding up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts, flicking over your nipples. His lips dipped down from the crook of your neck to your collarbone, tongue tracing the crevice, teeth grazing the bone.

Your vision flashed dark--you were cumming again, you realized, you weren’t even sure if you had stopped cumming to begin with, the feeling of Osial’s cock was simply too much. You could feel his breath against your skin, hot, heavy, the telltale sign that he was close, the closest thing you would get to a warning. 

You could barely hear the low grunt that caught in the back of his throat as he grinded his hips up into you, eyes rolling back as his cock twitched inside of you. You felt warm, full, too warm and too full as he spilled his cum deep inside of you, biting down hard on your shoulder. His sharp teeth dug into the scar on your shoulder that he had left the first time he had laid with you--a way to mark you as his and his alone. 

You were still trying to recover from your high when you felt Osial shift beneath you, you shivered at the feeling of his cock moving inside of you, biting back a whimper, walls fluttering around him, sensitive from your orgasms.

Your eyes were still shut even as Osial cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch before you let your eyes flutter back open, eyes meeting his--they were dark, a sort of emotion swirling beneath them that was unsettling. Your eyes trailed down between your bodies, faltering when you noticed that he was holding something, a dagger

“What is this?” you asked quietly, eyes tracing the blade that Osial was twirling in his hand--it was made of an odd material, one that looked suspiciously like the throne beneath the two of you. You looked up at the god questioningly, when he didn’t respond right away. He was studying you and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. 

“The bones of the dead gods of the sea,” Osial explained after a moment. “The power to kill a god.”

---

“In two weeks' time, there will be a festival in the newly founded Liyue to honor Morax’s fallen adeptus, Skybracer.”

Liyue Harbor was larger than you expected. Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth as you looked around--you had known it was big, you could see it lit up at night from the southernmost island in the Guyun Forest, but it was different seeing it in person. The buildings were twice as tall as the houses in Guyun and the streets were bustling in a sort of way that had you anxious. There were too many people and too little room.

“Morax will be at the festival--surrounded by his own people and the adepti, he will let his guard down. I knew him well enough before the war to know this.”

Let his guard down, you thought to yourself, eyes drifting around the streets, following up to where the crowds grew denser, soldiers lining the streets leading up to where Morax sat upon his throne watching the celebrations below, the adepti scattered around the general area on high alert. 

A resentful feeling grew in you at the sight of Morax, lounging back on the throne donning a white hooded robe. The people traversing the streets were forced to walk around you as you stared at the god from a distance. He looked bored, apathetic even, as his gaze drew across the streets--exuding a sort of arrogance that only a god could so casually. 

“You will have to find a way to get him alone.”

Alone. Reality was beginning to set in on you, the chatter and music around you becoming a distant hum, muted compared to your heartbeat pounding in your ears--a city of five-thousand people and over a dozen adepti, and you had been sent to slay their god on the night they commemorate their fallen comrade. 

Had you been handed a death sentence?

Did it matter?

The logical part of your brain held up a weak argument when confronted with the rest of you, loyal to Osial, willing to lay down your life at just a single command. He was your god, and if he wanted you to die for him, then so be it. But he did not ask you to die, he asked you to kill his enemy, he asked you to live, to take Morax’s godhood and stand by his side for the rest of eternity.

Take his godhood, a myth, no one knows if it’s true. If you succeed, you’ll be stoned to death by the people of Liyue for killing their god.

If you succeed. You did not want to know what fate waited for you at Morax’s hands if you failed. 

A brutal god, ruthless and violent, Morax was the reason that the war had escalated so severely in southern Teyvat. By the time news reached the Guyun Forest of the battle that laid waste to the Guili Assembly, ravaging the plains and slaying the Goddess of Dust, Morax had already settled his people into the shores of Osial’s territory and gone off to wage war against the remaining gods of the land. 

It was he who forced Osial’s hand, choosing to settle in his lands rather than those of one of the slain gods. The Sea of Clouds and the land of Liyue could have been two separate territories, ruled by two separate gods but Morax chose the one area that would draw the ire of Osial--a tyrant and warmonger he was, but Morax was no fool, he knew exactly what he was doing when settled his people in Osial’s territory. 

A particularly loud cheer pulled you from your thoughts, bringing you back to awareness. You let out a breath, trying to quell the spiraling resentment and anger--but your heart leapt in your throat when you noticed that Morax’s gaze was no longer absently wandering his people.

Was he looking…

Amber eyes were trained steadily in your direction, a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

… at you?

You swore that you could see his lips curl up into a smirk, even at this distance, but before you could figure out if it was just a figment of your imagination, it was gone--replaced by the lethargic expression that had painted his face before. 

You wrote it off as your mind playing tricks on you, nerves over what you were here to do getting to your head. Shaken, you turned away, intent on going to find a stand to distract yourself with until you could figure out how to conjure an opportunity to separate Morax from the crowds of people and his adepti. 

---

“You are not from here.”

You hesitated as you took the last bite of the rice bun you were eating, swallowing it as you stared ahead, deciding whether or not you should turn around to face the man that had spoken to you. 

Should you lie? Claim that you had come with the settlers from the Guili Assembly--there would be no way for them to prove you weren’t but… maybe it would be better to claim to be a refugee from the west, the Tianqiu Valley civilization, or even further west, where your ancestors hailed from--the Hypostyle Desert of Sumeru. 

You let out a breath, having come to a decision as you turned around to face whoever approached you. As you turned, you noticed distantly that all of the Liyue residents who had been near you had backed away, and the street was now suspiciously quiet.

Frowning and with an answer on the tip of your tongue, the words died as your eyes fell upon a familiar white robe, the gold decorations glittering underneath the lights of the lanterns. Your gaze drew up from the long white robe, eyes meeting empty amber ones that peered down at you in a way that had your blood running cold. 

Your mouth dried, your throat tightened. Bow, you told yourself, bow, you must bow. But your body wouldn’t cooperate, the thought of kneeling to any god other than your own made you feel sick to your stomach. You tried to force your knees to buckle but they were locked, your own body damning you. 

“Where are you from?” Morax’s voice was a low drawl, as if he were amused by the situation, and once again resentment brewed as you stared at the man. You couldn’t help but notice how the people did not seem shocked at the sight of Morax walking among them, you wondered if it was a common occurrence. 

“The west,” you finally said, voice tenser than you meant for it to be, not as respectful as it should have been--but Morax did not look incensed, even if his people were agape at your tone. “Tianqiu Valley.”

“A follower of Khienar,” Morax noted. “How fascinating.”

You wondered if you had spoken wrong but Morax did not appear to be suspicious of you. As if he could read the question on your face, wondering why it was fascinating to him, he continued. “Liyue Harbor does not often host outsiders these days,” he said. “Come.”

Morax did not wait for you to agree or disagree, and your throat closed up at the order--not quite finding the God of Geo’s words as appealing to follow as Osial’s. He walked ahead, and you hated that you knew you had to follow otherwise you would garner even more suspicion, and you hated that he knew you knew you had to follow and it was exactly why he didn’t wait to see if you would. 

The arrogance of gods-

The arrogance of gods. Your world stilled as your thoughts spun, was this the opportunity-

You didn’t have the chance to dwell on the thought, you were losing sight of Morax and all you could do was rush after him--not that it was difficult, the crowds of people had parted at his arrival, making way for him to go as he pleased.

As you caught up to him, you tried to make sense of what was happening--he sought you out, was it really because he could tell that you weren’t native to Liyue Harbor or the Guili Assembly? Or was it something else? Did he know who you were, what you were sent-

“Have you tried the slow-cooked bamboo soup at the Wangshu Stand?” Morax asked suddenly, your brows furrowed as you stared at his back--his back, the knife holstered to your thigh burned, screaming at you to take the opportunity now, kill the tyrant in front of all of his people, damn your own fate, you were ready for their stones. But just as your hand twitched at your side, Morax turned his head over his shoulder to look at you. 

… what?

You couldn’t even find the words to speak as you stared at Morax, barely even having processed his words--too lost in your own thoughts, at the opportunity in front of you. Bamboo soup at a stand--did you try it?

“I did not get the chance,” you finally said, and you hated how hoarse your voice sounded. Your eyes drifted around the streets, the way people whispered, stares adoring and wide-eyed. They loved him, a tyrant and warmonger, they were all just as ba-

Morax hummed, looking ahead again, “Pity. I fear the stand is closed now. It is my favorite. They attempted to show me how to make it but alas I find myself a poor chef.”

Was this a joke? You wanted to ask, but you couldn’t force the words out. He was leading you somewhere—up a stone staircase, and you could only follow numbly behind him.

Of course, they loved him, vengeful over what happened at the Guili Assembly, the death of their goddess--they wanted to exact the same fate onto every other people of Liyue so they hail the warmonger and tyrant as their hero. 

“I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to a mortal from another civilization since the war broke out,” he said, and you swore--you swore--that he must know exactly who you were, how you felt, what you came to do and he was playing with you, taunting you.

“I wonder why,” you couldn’t help the spite that slipped from your mouth, the resentment simply too intense for you to bite back. Morax only looked back at you again, an odd expression on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher--not angry, but not amused. It was as if he had been waiting for you to say something like that, as if you had played right into his game. 

He didn’t say anything else as you followed him up the stairs, away from the crowds of people, the chatter and cheering growing distant with each step you took. It was warmer on the mainland than it was on the Guyun Forest isles, the seabreeze not quite as strong--even as he led you up the side of Mount Tianheng, you stayed warm. 

A part of you wondered if he was bringing you up there to kill you, spare his people the gory sight of your death--although you had a feeling that if they knew you were a priestess of Osial, they would drink and dance to the sight. 

You wanted to ask where he was taking you, but you didn’t want to continue to test your luck, you were stuck between a rock and a hard place not knowing whether or not he knew who you were already. Every action you took made you anxious that he would figure it out if he hadn’t already.

Morax came to a step half-way up the side of Mount Tianheng--a pretty, flattened area with a few benches and a small koi pond. Alone, you recognized, you were alone with him. He had brought you somewhere where the two of you were alone. 

“You will have to find a way to get him alone and only then will have the chance to drive the dagger through his heart.”

Osial’s words rang through your ears as Morax moved to stand on the edge of the mountain by the railing, looking down over Liyue Harbor. He looked over at you, eyes lidded and lashes brushing his cheek--he was waiting for you to join him at the ledge.

You did, albeit reluctantly. Your hands were wrapped around the stone railing tight, as if that would do anything to save you if Morax decided to kill you.

“Speak freely,” Morax said, and your head snapped toward him, eyeing him suspiciously, not trusting a word he said.

“So you can have my tongue for speaking out of line?” you questioned, Morax’s amber eyes glittered in an obscenely beautiful way as he looked down at you, amusement painted across his face.

“Speak freely,” he repeated, an order this time, as he turned to face you. “I want to hear the opinion of someone who is not my own people.”

You stared at him, trying to figure out if this was some sort of trap, but gods were impossible to read--their faces masks indiscernible by the average mortal--though you had a distinct feeling that if you refused, it would anger him more than if you said how you truly felt. 

“You are a warmonger,” you finally said--you could no longer look at him, instead looking down at the harbor, afraid that you would be smited just as the gods who dared stand against him were. Your knuckles tight around the railing, body tense as you waited for his reaction.

“I seek order,” Morax responded after a moment, and you thought that his answer incensed you more than admission to being a warmonger.

“You seek order through war. You are a tyrant,” your voice grew sharper in your anger, taking a tone that would ordinarily be a death sentence from a god, but Morax only leaned back against the railing, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at you. 

The amusement that had been shining in his eyes was gone, replaced by a more serious expression, but he did not appear to be angry.

“I do not wish for dominion over Liyue but I cannot continue to watch the common people suffer,” Morax responded after a moment. A cool breeze danced your skin, trying to quell your rising anger but you couldn’t hold back the scoff that bubbled at your lips. 

“You do not wish for dominion yet you seek out any god that can rival you to kill them,” you shot back at him. “The-”

Your words died when you felt two lithe fingers grab your chin, turning your head to the side to force you to look at him. All of the air whooshed from your lungs as you stared up at him, catching the mirthful look in his eyes, the way his lips were pulled up in an unkind smile. 

“Let us make one thing clear,” Morax murmured. “There is no god that can rival me.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, taken aback by the arrogance--was it arrogance? Or just confidence--not even Osial dared to imply his enemies were weak, a sort of insult that brought bad tidings to its speaker. Morax’s hand dropped from your chin but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Continue,” he said off-handedly, your lips parted to speak but you could barely even remember where you were heading with your comment--you couldn’t even remember what had you said to make him say that, you were completely thrown off. 

… seek out any god that can rival you to kill them, you remembered. Ah, that was it. 

“The common people will suffer whether you kill their gods or not,” you said, and Morax made a noise in the back of his throat, one of acknowledgment as he processed your words. You let yourself look at him again--he was looking back out at the harbor again and your breath almost caught at the sight of the lanterns below reflecting in his eyes, the way his skin glowed beneath the moonlight. Morax had a different sort of beauty about him than Osial, somehow warmer, not as sharp, but far more deadly.

“Can you deny that they will be safer once the wars between gods end?” Morax questioned.

“Your people will be safer,” you responded. “What of the rest of us?” 

“You will become my people,” Morax said off-handedly. 

“I would rather die,” you countered too quickly to process your own words.

Morax turned his head to look at you again, amused by your words. “How familiar,” he said softly, almost too soft to pick up but you didn’t get the chance to question it before he was talking again. “You say you come from Tianqiu Valley, daughter of Khienar?” 

You hesitated, only for a second, but you knew he picked up on it. “Yes,” you said. 

Morax pushed away from the railing, walking behind you--slow, lax, deceivingly so. You wanted to turn around to face him but your body wouldn’t cooperate, your fight or flight instincts failing you as you froze up. You felt distinctly like a deer being hunted by a lion, cornered and unable to bring itself to try to flee. 

You could hear every step as he paced back and forth behind you, the sound of his white robe dragging against the stone was soft but grating against your ears. You stared ahead, gaze trained on the southern islands of the Guyun Forest in the distance, barely visible in the dark.

Osial was out there, you tried to calm yourself, but the thought was only a distant comfort--he was too far to do anything, you were at the mercy of his enemy, at the mercy of Morax. Your pulse thrummed in your ears as Morax came to a stop behind you, you could feel his chest against your back and the nearness of him had you feeling light-headed.

He leaned down. Morax’s nose brushed the crook of your neck, he inhaled deeply, breath hot and heavy against your neck. You felt dizzy, your mind felt slow. “I can smell your god on you, priestess.”

Your heart leapt to your throat, eyes widening as your hazed out mind processed his words. You scrambled, reaching for the knife you had hidden in your inner thigh, but Morax was faster, stronger. 

Your hand flew to his wrist as he grabbed you by the throat to hold you still—not hard enough to choke you or bruise you, but enough pressure that you knew it was a warning. 

Try anything and I’ll crush your neck.

Your mouth was dry as Morax parted your legs, knocking your thighs apart with his knee before reaching between your legs to grab the dagger. An unwelcome, dreadful realization swept over you as Morax’s lips twisted into an amused smirk at the weapon.

“Did you really think this would be able to kill me?” Morax’s voice was low and mocking. “Perhaps a lesser god like Osial would be weak to the properties of our marrow, but it would be little more than a tickle to me.”

His arrogance made your stomach churn, and any little hope you might have had left was swept away as he tossed away the dagger, watching it clatter against the stone before sinking into the pond.

“I knew who you were and what you had planned the moment you stepped foot in my city,” Morax leaned in close, lips nearly brushing yours as he spoke. “Your god sent you to die, priestess.”

“He wouldn’t-“ you tried to protest, talk back even though you knew it wasn’t in your best interest to argue against the god. But you were going to die anyway, you realized, and you figured how else to spend your last moments than defending the god you had devoted your life to.

“But he did,” Morax murmured, a sort of faux-sympathy in his tone that made your skin crawl. “He knew I would know who you were. He knew I would play along. He knew I would be insulted enough over the situation to seek him out on his territory to fight him. He used you to try to turn the uneven tides in his favor by setting up a battle on his home ground.”

You tried to shake your head again, tears stinging at your eyes. “No,” you said, “He-”

“What did he promise you?” Morax was mocking you, he was still mocking you, you could see the mirth clear in his eyes. Your lips trembled as your nails dug into his wrist, the pads of his fingers pressing just a bit harder against the sides of your neck as he waited for you to respond. “The old wives’ tale of taking a god’s place after killing him?” 

You took in a breath, sharp and shaky, choking back a sob. You couldn’t hold back the tears, cheeks wet as they spilled over. 

“He did,” Your reaction was confirmation enough for the god, who brought his free hand to your face, thumb wiping away the tears that escaped. You hated how gentle he was being because you knew you wouldn’t live to see the daybreak. “How gullible. If such a thing were true, the King of Sal Terrae would be the new God of Salt, and I would have countless domains.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, and you tried to look away but he didn’t let you--the grip on your neck held you steady, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Do you see now? Osial is so threatened by the idea of me he would send his priestess to certain death just at the slightest prospect for a chance…” he trailed off, eyes flickering down to your shoulder. “His lover, even?”

Your breath caught as the fingers brushing away your tears trailed down your neck, grazing your skin before coming to trace the scar on your shoulder, the mark left behind by Osial. You let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut.

Morax speaks the truth, the more logical side of yourself was arguing again, a newfound strength against the rest of you, blindly loyal and devoted to Osial. Osial knew what fate waited for you in Liyue Harbor and he still convinced you to go. 

But-

There are no ‘buts’, he sent you to die, are you ready to die?

You should be, there should be no question about it--there wasn’t earlier, you knew that there was a good chance you would die being sent to Liyue Harbor when you first arrived, so why now were you faltering in front of Morax? Questioning your faith?

“I don’t want to die,” it slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself--your voice shook, little over a breath as you spoke, the tears were building again and you were struggling to hold them back. 

The hand circling your neck slid up to cup your cheek in a manner similar to the way Osial would, and despite Morax’s hand feeling foreign and unfamiliar, you still leaned into it, desperate for any sort of comfort even if it was in the hands of the god who would kill you. 

“You don’t have to,” Morax said, and your eyes widened, searching the amber of Morax’s for any sign that he was being honest. “His lands, his people, his crown, I’ll show that coward of a god that everything that is his will soon be mine,” he murmured, and you could barely process his words as his thumb ran along your bottom lip. “... starting with you.”

Starting with… you?

You tried to understand what he was saying but his words went in one ear out the other, it wasn’t until he leaned in close, tilting your face up toward him that it slowly began to register. His lips brushed yours, “What is your name, priestess?”

Had Osial ever asked you that? You assumed he knew because of who he was but… he had never asked, nor had he ever used it. It was always ‘priestess’.

And you told him, voice hoarse and shaky, waiting for him to do something. He repeated your name, voice low, a soft drawl that had heat pooling in your lower stomach because of the sheer idea of a god saying your name like that. 

You thought you should say something, anything, instead of standing there but Morax didn’t give you the opportunity. You let out a noise of surprise as he dipped his head down, lips brushing yours before he pressed them together more firmly. Your hands curled around his forearm and bicep, eyes fluttering shut as Morax’s hand pressed against the small of your back, holding your body flush to his.

The robe did little to hide the way his body felt against yours, you could feel each and every crevice and contour of his abdomen, the way his muscles rippled as he shifted you away from the railing to lay you back on one of the stone benches. He followed you down, body sliding on top of yours as he deepened the kiss.

Osial rarely kissed you, a part of you couldn’t help but note as your lips parted for Morax when you felt his lips prod open yours. The most Osial kissed you was when he let his lips brush yours when he leaned in close to talk to you. This was a new feeling for you, overwhelming--you had never kissed someone before, not like this. 

Morax’s biceps flexed as he held himself steady above you, you hated how a whimper escaped you when Morax pulled back to kiss down your jaw. It was different, you couldn’t help but compare, it felt more intimate. 

Your body was trembling and your head already felt a bit fuzzy just from his kisses. One of his hands slid between your bodies, between your legs. You gasped as his fingers grazed your panties, grazing the damp silk, the slick that had started pooling as soon as Morax had come in close proximity to you.

You could feel his lips pull up into a thin smile against your shoulder, a low huff of laughter that had a whine building in the back of your throat. 

“I am the warmonger, and yet your god is the one who built a shrine of his defeated enemies,” Morax’s teeth pressed lightly over Osial’s scar and you couldn’t stop the way your entire body shivered at the feeling. “Perhaps I should slay him on his throne, grind his bones to dust until it melds with the rest and take the throne as my own too, hm?”

Your only response was a moan, looking up at him through your lashes, eyes lidded as his fingers slipped beneath your panties--soft circles over your clit, slow and meticulous, your thighs were shaking, trying to grind your hips up against his hand but Morax kept at the slow pace, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch, aching and begging for more. 

“Is that what you want?” Morax asked. “After I take you, his priestess, his lover… you want me to go to the Guyun Forest and finish this?” 

What did he say? Go to Guyun Forest and…

Your heart lurched, eyes widening--finish this? As in… kill Osial?

You couldn’t linger on the thought because Morax was spreading your legs, slipping down your panties and pulling off his robes and your dress. Your mouth dried at the sight, panting as your gaze drifted over his body shamelessly. Morax had a body free of any scars—a distinct contrast to the battle-scarred body of Osial’s that you were used to. The thought made your throat tight, realizing that maybe Morax had no scars simply because there was no god he fought that was strong enough to lay a blow on him.

“Let us make one thing clear. There are no gods that can rival me.”

Would Osial even stand a chance?

He sent you to die. 

But you loved him, you’d always love him, he was your god and-

If you loved him, would you be sleeping with his enemy? The one you were sent to kill?

Morax’s fingers trailed down your body, between your breasts, down to your navel, your skin burned everywhere he touched. It was hard to think straight beneath his touch, remember whose you were with Morax above you, replacing Osial’s marks and touches with his own. 

“Perhaps I should bring you back to him,” Morax said, and you gasped, head tilted back against the stone as you felt his tip press against your entrance. He leaned forward, cupping the back of your head and lifting it off the bench and tilting it down so you were looking down between your bodies. Your breath caught, eyes wide and throat thick at the sight of his cock--he was bigger than Osial, would it even fit? you wanted to ask but just as you tried to voice your concerns, Morax shifted his hips forward, pushing the tip of his cock inside of you at a pace that had you on the verge of tears. “Take you on his throne, on the altar you give up offerings to him… force him to watch.”

You wanted to squeeze your eyes shut, toss your head back against the bench, but Morax kept you steady and you just couldn’t draw your eyes from where the two of you were connected.

“S’not gonna fit,” you gasped, the burn was too much, leaving you hot and light-headed, he’d barely even pushed the tip in and you were certain you were on the verge of passing out. Morax ignored you, one hand grabbing your hip hard while he continued to push into you. Tears spilled over your eyes, a sob bubbling at your lips as he stretched you out, not giving you time to adjust to the size of him.

By the time he had pushed himself fully inside you, you swore you were going to split open, your entire body tense and trembling and you tried to brace yourself for the inevitable thrust of his hips as he chased his own pleasure--gods were cruel lovers, even if it was sometimes unintentional. 

But it never came. Instead, Morax leaned forward, body hovering over yours as he wiped away your tears, again, he kept himself still inside you, waiting for you to calm down. And you thought it ironic, really, as you focused your gaze on his face, realizing that the barbarous Morax was treating you more gently than your own god ever did. 

He rolled his slips slowly, cautiously, even, eyes tracing your face as he watched to make sure you were ready for him to move. It really didn’t take long for the painful burn to shift into a more pleasurable one, each roll of his hips had you trembling but this time in a way that had you eager for more. 

It wasn’t until your hips bucked up that he let out a huff of amusement, tongue darting out to lick the stray tear rolling down your cheek before he drew his hips back and snapped them up into yours. You barely bit back a moan of his name, but he reached out to grab your cheeks, squeezing them together to get your attention

“I want to hear you,” he said, voice rough before he let go of your face, reaching down to grab one of your thighs to push it up against your chest--a new angle, deeper, Osial had never taken you in this position before, he usually preferred to take you from behind, fisting your hair as his hips snapped against your ass.

Morax pressed his lips to yours, messily, teeth nearly clashing before he kissed down your neck. The feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your cunt had you dizzy, clawing at his back for more, one leg wrapped around his waist while the other tensed in his hand. 

“Feels s’good,” you cried out, writhing beneath him at the brutal pace, each thrust had his tip brushing up against your cervix, your entire body was burning, walls spasming and fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper every time he drew his hips back. Your jaw was slack as he shifted into a kneeling position, somehow hitting inside you deeper, harder, faster with every buck of his hips, impossibly so. “I’m gonna cum.” your voice was slurred, and your vision was blurry, you weren’t even sure if he could understand you. “I’m gonna-”

“Say my name,” Morax groaned. “Loud enough for your god to hear.”

“Morax,” you sobbed, loud--you were loud, and the sound of the two of you was loud, sloppy, messy, you wondered if his people could hear their god defiling you from the streets below. “Mo-”

Your cry of his name cut off as Morax bit down hard over the mark that Osial had left, hard enough to draw blood. Your back arched against the bench, chest pressed to his as you came all over his cock at the feeling of his teeth digging deep into your skin.

Low grunts into your neck, hips rutting into yours at a pace that had your eyes rolling back, drool pooling at the corner of your lips--he didn’t stop after you had cum and it was too much for you to handle, your vision was getting spottier and spottier with every thrust, you couldn’t hold his arms to brace yourself anymore, limp beneath him, letting the god use your body to chase his own high. 

And use you he did, strong enough to hold you in place while fucking his cock deep into you, teeth still buried in your shoulder over Osial’s scar, as if he were trying to remove the very idea of him from your body and replace it with himself. He came deep inside you, filling you up and then fucking you still, fucking his cum back into you every time a bit of it leaked out. 

You could barely stay conscious, you weren’t even sure if you were fully conscious. You weren’t sure how long he continued to fuck his cum back into you, you weren’t sure how many times you had cum, you weren’t sure of much of anything besides the feeling of his cock stretching you out and his cum warm and thick, stuffing you full. 

Morax’s kisses were wet and messy, lips stained with your blood as he dragged them from your shoulder back up to your neck until he pressed his nose against the side of your head, panting heavy, lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “You’re mine now--my priestess, my lover, mine…. How about we go show that god exactly what he lost?”

Don’t Go.

A/N: SLAY. I think I like scaramouche idk 🤔 but it was sorta late and I just thought of this. It’s short so! Also I take request from any genshin character. Please send request i must have ideas 🤞

Pairing:Scaramouche x G/N!Reader

Warning:blood, death, angst.

He hated you, that part was obvious. He hated the way you smiled, or even called him sweet names. But no matter how times you tried to make him open up, he just wouldn’t budge. There were times where he would show just a tiny bit of vulnerability, but it would quickly fade away when he realizes. He was practically the definition of stubbornness, but that still didn’t stop you. You didn’t care how long it would take, you were convinced that he was just scared and he needed time. You ignored his insults, his nasty comments, everything. Actually, you didn’t even hear them. You just blocked them out with a smile. That stupid smile that he always hated. Why did you keep trying? He clearly showed signs of not cooperating, and yet you just continue to try. He despises the way you say I love you in that sweet voice of yours, or how you giggle at anything, and even hugging him. Those emotions are just gonna get in the way of his plans. And yet, he finds himself falling in love harder and harder every time. Even if you’re close to him on accident, he feels his face heat up and his hands becoming clammy and sweaty. And your scent just makes his head dizzy, and your eyes outshining the brightest light. When you excitingly call his name when you notice his huge hat, or his flashy clothing. You didn’t notice how his insults turned into soft sweet nothings, or how his nasty comments became one where he merely calls you beautiful under his breath. Or have you noticed how he would secretly go to your room to admire your sleeping and peaceful face, happy by the fact that you’re alive and well. Or when he gently holds your hand while you’re having a nightmare, saying that he is right here with you. But he always makes sure to leave when he knows you will wake up soon. He swore he would never allow himself to be filled with such filth, but if you were this pure then, maybe instead of filth, it would be something warm, magical. He really felt like a lovesick puppy.

So, why did things end up this way? He told you to stay away. He said that he doesn’t want you to be involved and that you should get the hell out, but you did pick up his stubbornness. “…what?” Is what he breathed out when he suddenly saw blood oozing out on his arm, a body twitching and the person coughing out blood and weakly calling his name. Aether watched as Scaramouche’s bloody hand from the other side of the body was twitching and shaking. Scaramouche slowly moved his gaze and to his horror, his instincts were true. It’s you. You were staring at him with wide eyes and your mouth dripping with blood. He slowly pulled his bloody arm off of you, and you instantly fell forward on his body. Scaramouche gently held you and felt his throat being clogged and burning. He didn’t know what to say or do, but he felt so dizzy when the smell of iron filled his nostrils and your blood soaking his clothes. “You must be kidding…” he says, his mouth forming into a sickening grin and his clean hand gripping your hair tightly. He forcefully lifted your head so that you were now facing him, but his grin faded away when he saw your eyes. Half lidded and empty. There was no life In those eyes. He doesn’t even see the shine that he loved so much. “Hey…what is this?” He question, but he already knows the answer. He tried shaking you, hell, even slapping you, but you wouldn’t even budge. He tried to cover the hole in your chest that he made, and he couldn’t stop the uncontrollable shaking in his hand. The traveler only watched in confusion when Scaramouche only begged you to wake up or else he’ll get angry. For someone being part of the Fatui and hurting a lot of people, it was surprising that he was almost on the verge of crying over a simple human.

“W-Wait, this has to work! You never heard me say it right? I-I’ll say it, okay?” No response. Scaramouche kneeled down and held your body close to his chest, making you feel his rapid heartbeat. He gulped loudly and slowly moved a strand of hair out of your pale face, and he took a deep breath. “I love you! I loved you, I’ve always loved you! I love you, I love you, I love you!!” He cries out, but you don’t move an inch. What was he hoping for? He practically ripped your heart out. But that still didn’t make him give up. “I love you, I love you!” He repeats, and he continues until he runs our breath and the realization slowly sinking in. He killed you. He hurt you. He’s no longer gonna see that smile of yours, or your laugh, or your hugs. You’re completely gone from this life. You didn’t even say goodbye. Scaramouche couldn’t hold in the tears that were spilling out, and he slowly leaned down to your face to place his forehead with yours, his tears staining your cheek and some mixing in with the blood that was still wet. He no longer cared about being a god, or killing the traveler. All he wants is for you to come back alive and tell him it’s all a prank, a stupid prank to see if he truly cared about you. He needs to hear that annoying voice of yours say “Just kidding!” Or maybe even an “I love you too”. He wants to feel your warmth again. Can’t he just be happy for once? He’ll stop everything if it means you’ll be awake in his arms again. Why are you so cruel?

“Don’t go, please…”

Jane Austen, Emma

Sufjan Stevens, Futile Devices

Virginia Woolf, The Letters of Virginia Woolf

Hozier, Shrike

Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

Sierra DeMulder, Your Love Finds Its Way Back

Nizar Qabbani

“What I feel for you can’t be conveyed in phrasal combinations; It either screams out loud or stays painfully silent but I promise — it beats words. It beats worlds.”

Katherine Mansfield

This is all i have the energy to draw lately

3.2 epilogue 👀

(the beginning of scara domestication arc))

“ehe! this is for you, don’t be sad now~”

Imagine if fatui Scaramouche ever got to encounter Albedo

The parallel and contrast between them is insane—Albedo yearning for the very thing that happened to “ruin” Scaramouche’s life is *chefs kiss* (I also wanted to draw scaramouche letting everything out and crying and breaking down)

romantic subtext? thats just text

If my body could sprak; "eat" by blythe baird // ocean voung // pinterest // ? // @ibvyache // holly warburton // @star-eaters @antidecay // @chenchenwrites on twitter // domenico fiasella // hum, hum by mary oliver

kinktober day 1:

electro-play (punishment) w/ scaramouche~

you were called by one of the akademiya sages, their tone quite urgent, expecting your presence to be held by their future god at once. you had no choice but to comply to it. as one of the akademiya scribes; you knew things. hell you were also completely aware why you were being called.

truth be told, you and scaramouche had a deal. you had to watch the traveller, watch where they were with keen eyes and report everything directly to him. somehow you decided that you didn’t want to do that. you just wanted to focus on your life and not being a bloody pawn.

unfortunately for you, the call-out came quickly, and now you stayed there in his chamber, watching him walk predatorily towards you. you were seated on his table. “i suggest, spread your legs,” he mused, watching you quiver under his touch. he said he suggests, but the tone had nothing more but orders.

you nodded, complying and spreading your legs for him, leaning back with your hands on the table. a heavy sigh escaped you as you felt his eyes wander all over your form. “what did i said you should do?” scara was amused. a hand caressing your thigh and you felt careful zaps of his quirk on your inner thigh, it caused your senses to heighten, sending tingles onto your clit immediately.

the next movement was of his finger, staying stationary on your clit as he held your face with one hand, making sure your flustered form meets his gaze. “i said, something. didn’t i?”

another zap shot right on your clit as you whimpered, tears brimming into your eyes. “baladeer. i-”

you were already feeling painfully close to your orgasm because of his administrations on your now electrified, and sensitive clit. “imagine if i were to actually use my vision here. what a wonderful way to die; yes?” he laughed, while your lip quivered. as amazing as it felt, you couldn’t remove the possibility of the fact that if you would’ve angered him more. you would’ve been electrofied to execution.

“i’m sorry— i just thought my knowledge isn’t growing and i—”

“sssh~” scara’s touched ensured another tingle on your clit. pushing you off the edge immediately. your wet cunt convulsed and throbbed as you orgasmed, gasping and sweating as you felt a slightly powerful shock stem onto your clit.

“AHH-” you shrieked, tearing up with a wobbly lip.

“how— very, defiant. you orgasm without my permission after not following my orders?” scara was smirking, raising a brow and leaning in, kissing your neck until he bruised it with a prominent hickey.

“seems like it would take a while to teach you an appropriate lesson, my pet,”

like you were written for me (ii)

summary: in which i read a lot of pretty things that remind me of a lot of genshin impact characters (back by popular demand, tysm for the support! you all own my heart).

featuring: albedo, childe, dainsleif, diluc, itto, kaeya x gn!reader (seperately)

cw: mentions of childe's real name

personal favorites: childe, dainsleif

a/n: i'm sorry for being mia!! school is killing me slowly hard. also,,, sorry for always giving kaeya angst. i don't even mean to, it's just so fitting for him. T^T ALSO! this is x gn!reader but please let me know if they are any pronouns slips that i may have missed :) enjoy loves!! <3

albedo k. — "from the base of her neck, to the arch of her eyelids, her beauty made a slave of me." adonis.

the air was unsettled as you posed against the rocky perch; a faint breeze working rosiness into your cheeks and goosebumps up your arms. to your back was the ocean blue and to your front was the white of your lover's hair.

albedo sat neatly in the green of the earth, his paintbrush dancing colors across the white canvas in front of him. painting was his passion, and you, his muse. like a true daughter of mnemosyne, you were an endless source of inspiration for him, a constant tickling of his senses and thoughts. he felt like a prisoner, the way your soul captured his own.

but just like he never thought of himself a genius, neither did you consider yourself a model. he almost found it funny, how you could spew praise but never take it. he loved that humble character of yours, but he also wanted to rid you of it. even if for only a moment, he wanted to see you fall for the sight of your image, like he did with each waking moment.

the belly of his brush maneuvered around the portrait, it's bristles staining the linen as it went. various pigments were quick to flood the piece, and it's whiteness soon drowned in the care of it. albedo delicately traced your features into the art, loving the way the brush spiraled over each curve and drifted over every detail. from the base of your neck, to the arch of your eyelids, your beauty made a slave of him.

"albedo, can i finally see it?" your eyes pointed to the eisel.

his lips curved into a soft smile, pleased by your eagerness. he extended his hand towards you, saying, "come here, love."

childe — "that's the trouble with loving a wild thing: you're always left watching the door." edith pattou.

you laid sprawled underneath the covers of your shared bed, cheek pressing against the pillow. though your body sat still, your eyes danced at the door.

ajax was always a busy man—that simply came with his job of being a harbinger. thus, most nights consisted of you under the covers, curtains sheltering you from the moonlight, awaiting his return. most nights, that return never came. but some nights, nights like this one, a certain red-haired loverboy would finally walk through the wooden entryway and join you in your reverie.

his arms were quick to consume you, gently wrapping around your torso. his head found a home in your neck, the tops of his hair pressing against your nose. his affections were typically more dominating, for he much preferred your head to be cradled by his chest, but the fatigue from his work kept him from caring. beggers can't be choosers, as they say.

and it's not as if he could claim to be uncomfortable either, the layering of your bodies was the warmth he needed on any cold snezhnayan night.

ah, snezhnaya. the land of his hearth and home that oddly seperated him from you, his strength and stay. he originally joined the fatui to quench his thirst for battle, to provide a wealth of challenges to test his might; but, it would seem the greatest challenge now was fighting on the battlefield knowing what waited for him at home. though he was still very much enamoured by the feel of his hand clutched around a weapon, the affection he harbored for you grew by the minute.

because who, even a battle-hungry tool like himself, could resist the care of an angel on earth? the warmth of your smile, the softness of your touch? even now, as you both lie together, eyes lightly lidded and minds half-asleep, he finds his self-control depleted and his senses consumed by you. and, though he'd never admit it, he preferred it this way. despite considering himself a weapon, he'd rather fall ill with your love than die by the blade of the enemy.

as you laid there entangled, you both wanted nothing more than to be frozen in time—snuggled so close you shared a heartbeat. but this world was a cruel one, and dreams didn't always come true. a ringing noise from the corner of the bedroom demanded your lover's attention, and he groggily got up to heed it's call. in no more than a minute, ajax's tired expression was off his face and his boots were on his feet. before setting off, he took your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of it, saying, "sorry, love. i'll be home soon."

and then he was gone, out the door in which he came. you were gutted, but it wasn't a new feeling. to be honest, this recurring sentiment kept you company longer than childe did. but you guessed that was just the trouble with loving a wild thing: you were always left watching the door, waiting for him to walk back through it.

dainsleif — "in the crooks of your body, i find my religion." sappho.

dainsleif was never a holy man, the word itself left a bad taste in his mouth. recently, however, he has found himself following someone like the apostles trailed the lord: you.

how he went from avoiding archons to making one out of you, he had no idea. for all he knew now was the sound of your voice and the way honey escaped your lips; the feel of his fingers between your hair and how he wouldn't mind getting tangled in it; the abyss that was your eyes and drowning in the depth of them.

not that he would ever want you to know that's how he felt. after the despair of his nation and the loss of his mortality, he doesn't want to lift you up only to make you fall. he knows the pain of that feeling all too well. so while you said "hello" like an invitation, he said "goodbye" like a promise. but just as the gods broke their promises, so did he.

the twillight sword, named for his victories in battle, moved so gently as he pressed his body closer to your own. he was a dichotomy of sorts, his own personal paradox, with his person splintered into the roughness of his past and the softness of his future. he slipped an arm around your lower back and brought his other arm to rest over your head against the stone behind you, effectively trapping you between himself and a statue of the seven.

even with the close proximity, the blonde moved nearer still, and his pale hair could practically frame your own face.

"this seems rather sacreligious, does it not?" you breathed.

he gave a quick, indifferent glance to the anemo archon's statue pressing against your back. "i won't ask for his forgiveness. if anything, he would have to beg for mine." his words echoed in your ear and you could swear they were laced with poison.

"so you don't worship a god?"

he merely nodded in negation.

"what if i wanted you to worship me?"

"i would."

"you would?"

"yes," he held your body tighter, your gaze more intensely. "for in the crooks of your body, i find my religion."

in a final push against the stone diety, the knight closed the space between your lips; and, though he had never seen the inside of a church, his kiss was like a desperate prayer; fealty poured from his lips and your knees weakened with the taste of it. he kissed you like his life depended on it, like it was the only means by which he could achieve salvation.

his body consumed you—all you could sense was him. his scent tickled your nose; he smelled like sin. his taste flooded your mouth; he tasted like paradise. he was a cursed child of heaven and hell, and you wanted all of him.

diluc r. — "i could start fires with what i feel for you." david ramirez.

the hour hand was parallel and darkness consumed the sky. you didn't normally venture out this late, but you were struggling to sleep and desperately needed something besides laying open-eyed in bed to occupy your time. besides, the latern clutched in your left hand kept your vision dependable and your breathing even. did you really have anything to worry about?

yes. a lot of things, actually.

just after a few peaceful minutes alone, you heard crunching coming from behind, it's volume increasing in intensity as the seconds passed you by. it was a group of hilichurls beginning to trail you with their torches ablaze. you inwardly cursed yourself for your rash decisions and lack of preparedness and began your flee away from your pursuers. your heart beat acclerated with each step you took, the pads of your feet were stained with dirt and battered by tiny, loose branches.

you kept your face mostly forwards, only looking back to track your lead on them. but, as if it were someone's dying wish, your toes rammed into the edge of a rock portruding out from the ground and your face high-fived the earth.

with your unexpected (but not surprising) fall, you found yourself surrounded by a gang of fire-wielding hilichurls, all thirsting for blood. your blood, to be specific.

sighing in defeat, you slid your eyelids close and anticipated your end. or at least, a pain of some kind. but that feeling never came. hesistantly, you blinked your eyes open to find a man dressed in black swinging an enflamed claymore at your foes. with this man's sheer might, you kind of felt sorry for the little creatures, even though they tried to kill you mere moments ago. when the figure finished ridding the area of the hilichurls, the moonlight revealed his features as he turned to face you.

your mouth formed an "o" as you chuckled sheepishly, "um, thank you, diluc."

your relationship with the wine tycoon was...complicated. it could perhaps be best described as lot's of actions left undone and lots of words left unsaid.

his anger was tangible as he half-screamed, "why in teyvat are you out in the middle of the woods so late?"

"i couldn't sleep," your voice was barely audible.

though his anger was suffocating, you saw something else in his features besides fury. was it longing? desire? whatever it was, it looked alien on him.

silence was quick to consume the air between you, awkward glances and tense facial expressions the only communication ensuing. only with this quiet did you realize how close you were to him—so close you could cup his jaw with your palm. eventually, your mouth grew an itch that you needed to scratch. gathering confidence, you finally spoke.

"why are you looking at me like that?" your question was a whisper.

"like what?"

"like there's a flame behind your eyes."

"because i could start fires with what i feel for you." his reply was an oath.

he leaned in, lips touching lips, and all time seemed to stop. no longer did you hear the ticking of the clock, all that remained now was the beating of your heart and his. his kiss was heated in the way that made your toes curl and warm in the way that touched your heart at the same time.

he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, asking, "and who wants to see the person they love mauled to death in the woods?"

as he brought his lips back to yours, you could feel his tounge slip into your mouth, a gentle yet insistent intrusion, and your body melted into his. you ran your fingers through his crimson hair, silently begging for more.

you were already so close—the pads of his fingers pressing desperately into your back, your legs wrapped around his torso, your scents mixing into a new genre of fragerence—but you wanted more. more, more, more.

itto a. — "his arms became a set of parentheses bracketing the sweetest secret phrase." christina lauren, love and other words

itto reminded you of the time old saying, a bull in a china shop. he was the notoriously clumsy harbinger of misfortune; but, while everyone else thought that to be a deal breaker, you found it to be an endearing part of the "arataki the-one-and-oni itto" package. some of your fondest memories with him were a product of his blundering behavior. one such memory was your first kiss:

waves rocked the wood beneathed your feet. you and itto had been taking a relaxing day trip on the ocean, simply cruising across the waves in each other's company. with the gentle dea breeze caressing your face and the sun's rays warming your skin, it was the most pacific day. until your lover spotted some fish, that is. with the weather as perfect as it was, it was not surprising that the purple-colored fish came out to play, their forms become visible as the neared the sea's surface. itto, his big arms and all, started paddling his palms through the water, thrashing about in an attempt to catch one.

"what in teyvat-" he couldn't see your face, but he could hear the smile in your voice.

"listen, you won't be laughing like that later when i catch you a new pet!"

looking back, he was kind of right—you certainly weren't laughing when this oaf of an oni fell overboard into the water and exclaimed, "help! i can't swim!" despite your shock, you curved your body over the helm of your small, shared boat and attempted to lug himback onboard. you didn't think you could do it, but, albeit arms straining, you managed to fish him out.

despite this feat, you soon realized that you can take an oni out of the water but you can't take the water out of an oni. since his eyes were still lidded even after slapping his face with the force of a thousand suns, you made an emergency decision: positioning yourself over his body, you pressed your lips to his, making your air his air. now, this wasn't as romantic as it sounds—you performed some wild chest compressions immediately afterwards. to your surprise, your rough first-aid skills did the job. itto's lashes slowly parted, revealing those two red eyes you adored so much.

between coughs, your lover exclaimed, "yo, i just had the coolest dream! we we're crusing on a boat and then some fish surfaced the water and then i tried to catch one and then i fell in-" his voice trailed when he saw the pair of humor and concern dancing in your eyes.

"i wasn't dreaming?"

"no."

"i almost drowned?"

"yes."

"you kissed me?"

"it's called CPR, you perv."

"well, could ya' do it again?"

laughing, you folded over the oni, your chest coming to rest on his. hands cupping his cheeks, you pressed a light and playful kiss against his lips. he moved his hands up to your shoulder blades and his arms thus became a set of parenthesis bracketing the sweetest phrase: you. fully trapped in itto's arms, your light pecks grew deeper with each passing second, leaving you breathless when you finally parted.

noticing your dazed expression, he gave you a smug smirk, saying, "told ya' you wouldn't be laughing later."

...you threw him back off the boat.

kaeya a. — "if you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you." andrea gibson, lord of the butterflies.

a knock on the door stirred you from your slumber. flinging the duvet cover off your body, you wobbled towards to the front door of your mondstadt apartment. with a twist of your hand, the wooden entryway creaked open and revealed a pair of estranged brothers. the red-head stood steadily, acting as a pillar for his younger, highly intoxicated yet somehow concious brother.

"would you take him?"

"why would i not?"

you and diluc gently exchanged the fumbling calvary captain, muttering quiet "goodnights" as you went. kaeya's weight shifted onto to your shoulders and you helped maneuver him to a seat at your kitchen table as the older brother took his leave. your fingers held his chin, forcing his face to look at yours. your eyes searched his face, spotting beads of sweat framing his abnormally pale face. knowing he was in need of water, you swiped your index and middle finger through the air, conjuring a stream of water with your hydro vision. you slowly funnelled the adam's ale into his mouth, letting him swallow every drop.

"would you like something to eat? some toast maybe?" you questioned him softly.

he shook his head in negation, but his eyes betrayed him. you knew he wanted something to munch on, so you turned to prepare him some toast; but, it would appear that even his inebriated reflexes were faster than your sober ones. his hands jumped to your waist, holding you in place between his legs. "you don't have to do that. you should go back to bed," he began, his voice hoarse. "i'll be-"

"fine?" you scoffed. "kaeya, you can't lie and expect me to not notice. diluc of all people just dropped you off on my doorstep like a lost kitten. no, you are not fine. yes, i am getting you some food."

"but you shouldn't have to work yourself up over someone like me."

"someone like you?"

"someone self-destructive and sardonic. a glutton, a gimmick. an intolerable individual."

you gave him a tender smile, "well, you must not be too drunk if you can articulate all those fancy words," you pushed the hair out of his eyes before pressing on. "darling, if you are self-destrutive, let me piece you back together. if you are a glutton, let me give you more to take. if you are a gimmick, let me see the real you. if you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you."

holding his stare, your words echoed through the room. you only hoped it had echoed in his mind too.

begrudgingly, kaeya dropped his hands, allowing you to retrieve something from the kitchen behind you. you topped some sourdough with bananas and honey, serving them on a ceramic plate. you sat with him as he had, using your melody to distract him from the voice inside his head. the conversation was a simple as "is the food okay" and "how was your day," but you could see the tension leave his shoulders with every word that left your lips.

with his last bite, his nerves finally calmed. you prayed this peace would never leave him.

-> likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! <3

You can’t hurt an overthinker, they already seen it coming you’re just proving them right

— 𝐈’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐢𝐢

✦ breeding their beloved god (yandere sagau!) feat. itto, diluc, scaramouche, ayato

✦ warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact

✦ disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, everything is consensual, religious/cult themes breeding kink, creampies, yandere tendencies,  monsterfucking adjacent (itto), size kink (itto), cumflation (itto), dick piercing (itto), semi-public (diluc and ayato), power play (scaramouche), cockwarming (scaramouche), sadist (scaramouche), kinda hate sex (scaramouche), bath sex (ayato), dumbification (ayato), overstimulation (ayato), implied degradation (ayato and scaramouche), unedited

Itto is probably the acolyte that most recently discovered you. Growing up, he wasn’t all that interested in the Creator, after all—what Creator would have people throw beans at him of all things? It wasn’t until recently, seeing your face in person when the Shogun introduced you to her land, that he realized he had been wrong this whole time and he will do nothing to stop atoning for his prior disbelief.

Whenever he would see you out, he managed to find you thanks to the rest of the Arataki clan, regardless of which high official you were with. This has granted many enemies he knows of, like Sara, to enemies he doesn’t realize like Ayato. Still, telling jokes and eating his favorite snacks with you is what he absolutely lives for. He is your obedient oni willing to go to jail time and time again if that means he can see your smile.

He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, cock pulsating and throbbing as he gulps to try to soothe his dry throat when your legs are splayed out to him—in the shabby, crackling shack he calls his home. He continuously swirls his tongue in his mouth, etching every sweet taste of your cunt in your memories before finally trying to push the tip of his cock inside of you.

Itto feared you would despise the inhuman curves and ridges of his cock, but you simply grabbed onto the sheets of the futon as he struggled to push his fat cock inside of you. He tries kissing every tear that drips from your eyes, feeling his stretch you out further and further as he pushes his way inside of you—the bulb of his length firmly nudging against your cervix wishing nothing more to push even further inside—body shivering from the cold metal from his Prince Albert piercing.

And even though he can’t fit, you’re shocked to feel your legs hooked on his arms as he proceeded to jam his cock inside of you over and over sharp teeth gazing over your neck. Even the oni teared up feeling your insides cave in, squeezing tight against his ridged cock. He can finally repent for being a disbeliever as you cry out his name repeatedly feeling him graze over the most sensitive parts inside of you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling his heavy balls empty themselves inside of you, a thick river of cum already beginning to stream down onto the damaged wood. Setting you down, he could only laugh patting the bulge in your belly—pressing it down to watch more of his cum drooling out of you.

Maybe if you accept his repentance, onis could truly be loved as you do him.

Diluc was motionless when he realized you were his beloved God. He remembered going to church with his father when he was young, hearing the gospel and the glories you brought to them. Those stories were the only thing giving him hope, like a lone flame in his life of darkness once he lost his loved ones. And here you are, confused, and oh so innocent from the atrocities of this world.

He was the one you would stay with at Dawn Winery as he made it a mission to make you feel like absolute royalty—the uncrowned King of Mondstadt wouldn’t have it any other way. Some of his favorite things to do were listen to your day as the two of you ate dinner. Hearing your stories of exploring the manor and asking about his past, always made the usually brudish man smile…that is until he began hearing that others, like that bard and his cursed brother, visit you.

He hated how quiet he would get after that, sipping his grape juice and pondering how he could deter anyone from ruining the sanctuary he’s made here with you, the heaven that he rightfully deserves after years of suffering. 

Dinners became much more interesting when his fingers plunged inside of you, as your body lay out on the luxurious grand table. His digits exited out of you, coated with your slick before he unbuckled his pants and pressed his tip along your folds—slowly entering inside of you. His eyes could only widen in delight as you pulled him closer to you, your legs wrapped around his hips to bring him closer and cock plunging itself inside of you. 

He didn’t care if his staff saw. He didn’t care if his regional God even walked in. All he cared about was connecting your soft lips against his, rutting into you like a madman and savoring the heaven you had given him. 

He could hear your muffled moans against your lips as his hands woved themselves with yours, placing them high above you on the table. He continuously ground himself against your aching clit, feeling your gummy walls flutter themselves against him. Even as his hips bucked, hot cum spurting out inside of you, he finally parted your lips—a string of saliva connecting you two—before brushing his lips against your nape. 

Please let him have more time in Eden, with his beloved. That’s all he asks for.

Why should he worship you, the Creator when all of his life has been suffering? Seeing you in person rattled the puppet, his body trembling in anger. Why are you looking at him in adoration? Weren’t you the reason why he could never have a heart, why one of your devolved followers, Raiden Ei abandoned him like a toy? As much as he hated to admit it, he so desperately wanted that look of want that you gave him.

Still, Scaramouche tried to avoid you left and right, but he always managed to come back eventually. He tried pushing you away with yours instead but seeing tears threaten your eyes was enough for him to succumb and apologize, holding you tight in his arms. He hated you…but he loved and craved you. How did this make sense? Maybe he was truly a faulty creation.

From this point on, Scaramouche began to travel with you claiming he was simply “protecting the creator” in an attempt to understand his feelings for you further. He couldn’t help but be irked seeing everyone worship and praise you or even seduce you. Wasn’t his feelings for you enough? Couldn’t you just be satisfied with that?

The frown on his face always curved into a smirk as you clung tightly to him, cock buried inside of you as the Ballader mockingly patted your back. Something was so thrilling to have the object of everyone’s admiration struggle not to cum by his orders. He could only shush you with a cruel smirk, feeling your inside clutch and try sucking him in further.

He pinched your cheek, causing a whine to erupt from you before snapping his hips up causing you to yelp. It was so utterly adorable to him, watching your lip quiver as he ground you against him trying to encourage him to finally plow inside of you. He chuckled, hand weaving around to pitch your throbbing clit instead, pulling on it as you cried out for him again before rubbing tender circles on it as your slick stained his fingers.

Suffer a little more, before he’s ready for you. It’s what you deserve for what you put himself through. Come on, tell him that he’s your favorite little doll already.

It was mere child’s play to convince the Shogun to let you stay at the Kamisato residence, after all, he and his little sister had proven time and time again how loyal they were to you. There was something about walking you through the halls of his estate, your timid smile trying to convince him there was a mistake about you being God was enough to almost let his inner mind slip just how cute and small you were to him.

Ayato knows better, studying who the Creator was and how to best serve them, but he couldn’t help but want to test theorize for himself—test if you were truly worthy of his worship. Seeing you pass every trial with a determined smile, made his heart truly flutter in adoration. He, out of everyone, knew it would be a matter of time before you got a concubine from the endless list of your devoted followers. So he was determined to be the one to seduce you first. 

It was rather easy getting you flustered. Simple touches here and there. Leaning in close to see if you’d finally close the gap between you two. Things were much slower than he would’ve liked, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. Even as he sits in the hot spring baths, all he could do is sigh continuously strategizing before he heard the doors open.

Everyone knows this is the time the lord takes his bath, it’s in his schedule. When lavender eyes made your gaze, his lips could only curl up into a smirk. He would finally reap the benefits of this long political game he had set out to win.

Having yourself pinned against him, the warm, very shallow swatters of the bath—clit burning in overstimulation for his fingers continuously toying with it no matter how many times your body came in pleasure. His cock thrust inside of you rapidly, your legs propped up on his wide shoulders letting him rut even deeper inside of you.

He couldn’t help whispering how it was unbecoming of a god to cave into their lust as you did, but he would continue worshipping you despite your falls feeling your walls tighten, and back arch as you came yet again from him. Finally letting a groan out and cum inside of you, cock pulsating inside of you as it finally became to soften. 

A dark chuckle escaped him, pressing his thumb against your glossy lips, wiping the drool threatening to drip down. 

Aww how cute. It seems his precious God forgot their name.

#genshin #fanart

cover for Harbinger Trio zine! you can check it out of their twitter @HabingerTrio !

DATING APP HCS - AYATO

PAIRING: AYATO X FEM READER

WARNING: SMUT, DOM/LITTLE DYNAMICS

If you are an Ayato fan, do yourself a favour and read it. Even if you aren’t, you still better do it. Just saying :> Ayato is the best daddy material and I just had to write it. Smut, smut, smut and lots of Daddy Ayato taking care of his baby. You might want to find yourself a sugar daddy right after reading it, but don’t hold me accountable for it.

You’ve been mulling over the option of getting yourself a sugar daddy for quite some time now. You are just a broke Creative Writing major who can barely afford to pay the bills, not to mention the awfully high college fees.

All in all, you also can’t deny the fact that your sexual frustration has already reached sky-high levels, leaving you mostly annoyed and miserable. What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you cute enough? Maybe you’re just too clingy. You’ve heard it often enough to actually start believing it.

So, after the stage of initial doubt has passed, you find yourself seated on the sofa with a phone in your hand. You’ve done your research thoroughly. You know how terrible people can get online so you made sure to pick the safest dating site the Internet has to offer. Your anxiety soars high after you finally hit the save button and lean back to take a look at the profile you’ve created.

Coming to think of it, you’ve always been a little bit… different? 

Your parents spoiled you rotten and brought you up inside of a protective bubble that guarded you against the cruelty of others and the world. It always felt like a little bit too much for your vulnerable side that very often took control of everything that happened in your life. From a very young age, you shunned the company of other kids, preferring to spend your time in solitude, immersed in your fantasy world of dolls and pastel plushies. 

That bubble was just an illusion, though. You had no choice but to come up against some very harsh realities after you decided to move out of your parents’ secure haven. You wanted to pursue your dreams of becoming a writer and finally be able to look at yourself in the mirror without feeling like a failure. 

Thus, if there is anything that you’re sure of in your life at this point; it must be:

1) You are Broke (with capital B!), but most certainly, you are not going to ask your parents to save your ass yet again.

2) You will go to any lengths to graduate from this university and make your family proud.

3) You are done with the permanent HORNY status. The prospects of having somebody else to look out for you as well as deal with the f.o.r.e.v.e.r wet panties issue is too good to let it fall between the cracks without giving it a chance first.

With your hopes high, you began browsing different profiles of strangers who hinted at being interested in providing for a Little. These were, however, mostly old and yucky-looking men. It took but a few minutes to realise that the idea of getting yourself a sugar daddy, no matter how pleasing it seems, will be more difficult than you had initially thought it would. Are you being too picky? Perhaps. But, you can’t bring yourself to EVER let a creep like that touch you! The mere thought triggers a gag reflex, and your body shudders as if attacked by thousands of sleazy slimes.

So, just when you are about to call it a day and go to bed to sulk over the fact that your pathetic ass can’t even find anybody to have sex with you, let alone pay you for it, your bulging in shock eyes almost pop out of your head.

„Holy shit!” 

You rise to your feet and then; have to immediately sit back down because of the growing excitement causing the world around to spin.

This man is fucking flawless. Pastel hair? Elegant and charming smile? He doesn’t even look like he is anywhere near his 30s. Your mouth melts as if you haven’t eaten for days, and now there is a delicious looking cake served on a silver plate right in front of your eyes. Absurd. Why would a man of his calibre even want to pay anybody to have sex with him? Shouldn’t it be the other way round? Heck, you would surely pay him if your wallet was anything thicker than a tissue. 

You swipe right.

And then your mood drops.

„Oh, I’m such a tool.”

Aha, why are you getting so excited? You pinch those burning cheeks hard enough to bring yourself down a peg or two. Why would he, the walking perfection of lavender and baby-blue Celestial being, ever become interested in YOU of all the people who’d be ready to bounce on his dick if he just as much as spared them a glance? 

The profile name says AyatoDaddy. You wonder what his real name is. The site won’t let you see any personal details unless you match with someone. You were cautious enough to keep your name private and decided to stick to an alias of sorts. If they want to know your name they will need to ask. DUH.

Like an idiot, you spring to your feet yet again when the sound of the notification startles the shit out of you. 

My oh my oh my

The screen lights up, and your heart gallops with the speed of a herd of feral horses.

A match? A new match?

And a message from… Kamisato Ayato.

You put your phone away, pacing around the room like a tiger trapped in a cage to gather your thoughts. It takes you precious minutes before you finally are ready to pick up the device again.

From: Kamisato Ayato

Hi, pretty girl. I saw your profile and simply couldn’t resist texting you. How come such a cute little doll like you doesn’t have anyone to look after her? Well, no matter. It seems to be my lucky day. I’ll gladly take care of you, Little One.

Keep reading