#I need a bow character that is not Amber | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lumosou · 10 days ago

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୨୧ — Breathing After the Ashes. 𖦹 , ✿ + ꕤ

ꕤ — Character(s) ; Harry J. Potter x Fem!Reader

ꕤ — Synopsis + Wc ; In the quiet after the storm, Harry learns to feel again—through stolen touches, whispered truths, and the solace of you. Together, you find warmth in the wreckage, and a reason to hold on. 7.9k

ꕤ — Discretion ; 18+ MDNI! angsty feelings alllll around, some fluff but mostly angstyish, the smut is so gentle and soft!!!!! mostly healing sex between reader & harry, they both need therapy.. penetrative sex! kisses as well 🫡

ꕤ — A/n ; this fic is lowkey my child but i also lowkey hate it! wtf! the pacing is kinda awkward and also repetitive bc this is genuinely the longest thing i’ve ever written and idk how to deal w it, bare with me i promise ill get better as i go 😭 i do hope u guys enjoy it somewhat!! reblogs and feedback are so so appreciated 🫶🏻

; masterlist.

The Great Hall wasn’t the same anymore. The enchanted ceiling still glowed with its usual charm, painted in amber hues that mirrored the late summer sunset, but the light felt muted somehow, swallowed by a weight too stubborn to dissipate. It hung in the air like smoke from a dying fire—bitter, clinging, impossible to outrun.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, the hum of voices around him blurring into an indistinct murmur. His eyes stayed fixed on his plate, laden with food he didn’t remember serving himself: roast chicken, mashed potatoes, a gleaming crescent of gravy. None of it tempted him. The thought of eating made his stomach twist uncomfortably, a dull ache that spread through his chest.

The war was over. Voldemort was gone, his name no longer a curse. This was supposed to be the part where relief set in, where everything hurt a little less. Instead, Harry felt as though he was still wading through the rubble, shoulders bowed under the crushing weight of those who hadn’t made it. Colin Creevey. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Their names were a mantra he couldn’t stop repeating in his head, their faces seared into his mind’s eye.

His grip on the fork tightened until it dug into his palm, the bite of metal a thin distraction.

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was a soft thread that tugged him out of his spiral. He looked up, startled, to find her hand brushing against his arm. Concern clouded her features, her brows knitting together. “You don’t have to stay here. If it’s too much, you can—”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, sharper than he meant to. The words came out like a reflex, cutting her off mid-sentence. Hermione flinched, pulling back her hand, and for a fleeting moment, guilt gnawed at him. But he shoved it down. He didn’t want her worry, her pity. He didn’t want any of it.

Ron shifted beside him, chewing on a hunk of bread like it was his way out of the tension. He didn’t speak, though Harry could feel the sideways glance he shot him. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until Harry let out a slow, controlled breath and placed his fork on the plate. The metallic clang rang louder than it should’ve, making him wince.

The scrape of his chair against the floor cut through the noise of the hall as he stood abruptly. “I need some air,” he muttered, already turning away.

He didn’t wait for Hermione to protest or Ron to offer some half-hearted comment to fill the space. His feet carried him toward the door, away from the low hum of conversation and clinking dishes. Toward the one place in all of Hogwarts where the noise couldn’t follow. Where he could finally, maybe, breathe.

─────────────

The Astronomy Tower had always been Harry’s escape. Perched high above the rest of the castle, it was the only place where the world felt distant enough to bear. The sprawling grounds stretched out below him, bathed in the purples and blues of dusk, and for a brief moment, the sight eased the tension coiled in his chest. He leaned heavily against the stone railing, its chill biting through his sleeves, and the wind making his already wild hair even messier. It carried the sharp, clean scent of freshly cut grass, grounding him in the present even as his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

The sound of footsteps startled him—not loud, but enough to break the fragile stillness he’d sought. He turned sharply, hand brushing the wand tucked in his pocket, only to pause when a voice cut through the quiet.

“Are you hiding too?” you asked, lingering near the top of the stairs. The dim light softened your features, but it didn’t quite mask the curiosity behind your words. There was no malice in your tone, only a quiet humor that made his shoulders drop slightly.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Harry said automatically, though even to his ears, the denial sounded weak.

You tilted your head, unconvinced. A faint smile ghosted across your lips, but your eyes remained guarded, unreadable. “Right. You’re just conveniently up here, avoiding everyone, the same way I am.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his fingers brushing the edge of the railing. He didn’t respond, unsure how to defend himself—or if he even wanted to. There was something about the way you stood there, hands loosely at your sides, your voice soft but steady, that caught him off guard. It wasn’t pity or prying curiosity, just… understanding. Like you could see the weight pressing down on him and felt no need to ask what it was. Like maybe you carried some of it yourself.

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking back to the horizon. “I guess you’re not.. wrong.’’

You stepped closer with quiet purpose, each movement deliberate, as though gauging the fragile equilibrium of Harry’s silence. He didn’t flinch or shift away, didn’t so much as glance at you. His gaze stayed locked on the horizon, but you could feel the weight of his awareness, the way the air between you seemed to hold its breath. When you finally stopped beside him at the railing, the stillness wasn’t stifling. It was tentative, balanced, as though it might shatter if either of you spoke too loudly.

“It doesn’t feel like the same place, does it?” Your voice was soft, your eyes fixed on the horizon as the last threads of sunlight dissolved into the hills. The sky deepened into shades of indigo and amber, blurring the edges of the world.

Harry nodded, though the motion felt stiff, half-hearted. “No,” he said, but the word came out hollow, too small to carry the weight behind it.

You leaned forward on the railing, fingers brushing the cool stone. “It’s strange,” you murmured, more to the sky than to him. “You think coming back will fix things, like the castle will just… feel the same. Like being here should make it easier. But it doesn’t. It’s all still different.”

Harry turned his head slightly, his gaze catching yours out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t mean to linger, but your words struck something raw, something he hadn’t managed to put into words. You’d said it so simply, yet it was exactly what had been clawing at him for months.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s not the same.”

Your eyes flicked to him, your expression unreadable. “And neither are you.”

The observation hit like a hex, sharper than you’d probably meant it to. Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists against the stone. “Nobody is,” he said, his voice low and edged with a bitterness he didn’t entirely mean to direct at you.

But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t back away or apologize for the truth in your words. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, a flicker of understanding softening your tone. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” you said, your voice gentler now. “War changes people. It has to.”

He wanted to argue, to say something sharp and deflective, but the words caught in his throat. Because you weren’t wrong. He wasn’t the same person who had fought his way out of the Chamber of Secrets or stood in front of the Mirror of Erised. He wasn’t sure who he was now—just that he wasn’t enough.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. Not heavy, not empty, but something quieter, more bearable. Your arm brushed his lightly as you leaned forward on the railing, the contact fleeting yet somehow electric. He stiffened, his pulse jolting unexpectedly, and he waited for you to pull away. But you didn’t.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you said after a moment, your voice low, steady. “I just thought you might not want to be alone. Sometimes it helps.”

He swallowed, his throat dry, and tried to muster some kind of response. He wanted to tell you he didn’t need anyone, that he was fine—had always been fine—on his own. But the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because they weren’t true.

“Thanks,” he said eventually, his voice barely audible, as though saying it too loudly might break whatever fragile thing had settled between you.

Your lips curved into the faintest smile, one that felt less like triumph and more like an offering. You leaned back against the railing, gaze lifting to the stars beginning to scatter across the night sky. They blinked faintly in the deepening dark, small points of light that somehow didn’t feel so far away.

For the first time in weeks—months, maybe—Harry let the tension in his chest ease just a little. The world still felt impossibly heavy, but next to you, it didn’t feel so crushing.

Maybe you were right. Maybe not being alone did help.

─────────────

The two of you stayed there, side by side, the silence between you settling into something quieter, more natural. Harry’s hands curled around the cold stone of the railing, the familiar feel grounding him as his eyes traced the lines of the grounds below. The weight on his chest hadn’t vanished, not completely, but your presence dulled its sharp edges, made it something he could carry, if only for a little while.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Your voice cut through the stillness—not loud, not accusing, just curious.

Harry turned his head toward you, startled by the observation. But you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze stayed on the horizon, your features lit faintly by the glow of the rising stars.

He shrugged, the motion small, self-contained. “Guess I don’t have much to say.”

You hummed softly, the sound low and thoughtful, almost like you were agreeing with him. “Sometimes it’s easier that way,” you murmured. “Less to explain.”

His grip on the railing tightened, knuckles pressing white against the stone. He wanted to ask how you could say something like that, how you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking when he hadn’t even said it aloud. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Some part of him was afraid that asking might shatter whatever strange, fragile understanding hung between you.

“Not everyone sees it that way,” he muttered instead. “Most people just want me to talk. Like if I say something, it’ll fix everything.”

You turned your head then, and he felt your gaze settle on him—steady, unflinching, impossible to avoid. “They probably think it’ll make them feel better,” you said, your voice calm but edged with certainty.

Harry blinked, the words landing harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it like that before, but of course, you were right. People didn’t just want him to be okay—they needed it. They needed Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, to be fine so they could tell themselves that things might still go back to the way they were.

“But it’s not about them,” you added, your tone softening just slightly, as though you’d noticed the way his jaw tightened. “It’s about you.”

The words struck something deep, loosening a knot he hadn’t realized had been pulling him taut all day. He turned to look at you fully now, his gaze searching your face for something he couldn’t name. But you weren’t watching him like everyone else did. There was no pity in your expression, no awkwardness. Just quiet understanding.

“Why are you up here?” he asked, the question spilling out before he had time to think better of it. He didn’t want to talk about himself anymore, didn’t want to keep peeling open wounds that hadn’t even begun to heal.

You hesitated, just for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to answer. Then your lips quirked into a faint smile—tired, almost self-deprecating. “Guess I needed to get away too. Being around people all the time… it’s exhausting.”

He nodded slowly. That, at least, he didn’t need explained. The noise, the questions, the endless parade of looks that didn’t ask but expected—it was suffocating. Up here, though, the castle below felt distant enough to forget, just for a little while.

“It’s different up here,” he said after a pause, though he wasn’t sure he’d meant to say it out loud.

You glanced at him again, your expression softer now, as though something in his words had shifted the space between you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he added quietly, surprising himself with the honesty of it.

You blinked, tilting your head like you hadn’t expected it either. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the tension in his chest eased, just a fraction. Whatever warmth flickered there wasn’t tied to the war or his title or anything he’d done to save the world. It wasn’t about being Harry Potter. It was just you.

You gave him a small, knowing smile, and for a moment, the weight of everything slipped from Harry’s shoulders. The ghosts quieted, the endless expectations faded, and the hollow ache that lived in his chest dulled just enough. Up here, with you beside him, the rest of the world felt far away, like it couldn’t reach him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said lightly, leaning back against the railing, arms folding across your chest. The breeze stirred your hair, the faint scent of pine and earth clinging to it, and Harry found himself watching the way the dim light softened your features.

“The Boy Who Lived doesn’t strike me as someone who needs anyone.”

Harry’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, but the warmth of it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that what people think?”

You tilted your head, considering. “People think all sorts of things about you. Half of it’s probably rubbish.”

That drew a soft laugh from him, low and unexpected. The sound sat strangely in his chest, but it didn’t feel unwelcome. “You’re probably right.”

You glanced at him then, head tilted, your gaze curious but not intrusive. It wasn’t the sharp, prying look he was used to, the one that demanded answers or apologies or pieces of him he didn’t have to give. Instead, it was quieter, like you were searching for something without expecting him to offer it. Harry shifted under the weight of it, his fingers curling tighter around the railing, but before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Sometimes I think people forget you’re just… human.”

The words caught him off guard, sinking into him like a stone dropped into water. You didn’t say it with pity or reverence—just a soft kind of honesty that made his breath catch. It was like you weren’t talking to Harry Potter, the Chosen One, but just Harry, the boy standing beside you on a cold, quiet night.

For a moment, he couldn’t respond. The silence between you stretched, filled with a thousand things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. “Sometimes I forget that too,” he said finally, the confession slipping out before he could stop it. His voice was barely audible, and yet it felt louder than anything he’d said in months. “It’s like… if I’m not fighting or fixing something, I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.”

You turned to face him fully now, your expression soft but steady. “Maybe you don’t have to figure that out right now,” you said. “Maybe it’s okay to just… be.”

The simplicity of it stunned him. Just be. As though it were that easy. As though he could strip himself of everything he carried and exist without purpose or expectation. Harry’s grip on the railing tightened. “I don’t know if I even know how to do that anymore.”

“Maybe you don’t have to do it alone.”

The words hung in the air between you, weightless and heavy all at once. Harry’s gaze lifted to meet yours, his heart stumbling in his chest. You weren’t looking at him the way most people did, like he was a puzzle to solve or a hero to rely on. You were looking at him like he was… enough.

He swallowed, his throat dry. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, but there was something in your eyes—something faintly sad and yet unwavering. “Because I think you need it.”

The knot in his chest twisted, a sharp ache he hadn’t felt in years threatening to rise to the surface. He blinked hard, pushing it back, refusing to let it crack him open. Not here. Not now.

His hand moved almost without thinking, brushing against yours where it rested on the stone. It was a light touch, tentative and fleeting, but enough to send a jolt through him. He froze, half expecting you to pull away, to retreat the way everyone else eventually did.

But you didn’t.

The touch lingered, delicate and unspoken, neither of you pulling away. It wasn’t an accident, nor was it intentional in a way that required words. It just was, the kind of quiet moment Harry didn’t know how to name—simple, yet heavy with meaning. His gaze dropped to your hand, where your fingers just barely grazed his, and something unfamiliar stirred in him, warm and disorienting.

“I’m not used to this,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. The night breeze nearly carried them away, but you heard him.

You turned your head, curiosity softening your expression. “Used to what?”

“Someone just… being here.” He let out a dry laugh, short and humorless, as if mocking himself. “Most people either avoid me or expect something.”

Your fingers shifted, brushing his more firmly, the subtle movement grounding him. “I don’t expect anything, Harry.”

His name, spoken so gently, without expectation or weight—it shouldn’t have struck him the way it did. But it lodged in his chest, the simplicity of it making his stomach twist. You weren’t trying to be anything other than honest, and somehow that made it worse.

He looked at you then, really looked at you. The moonlight played across your features, softening the edges, casting faint shadows against your skin. Your gaze met his and didn’t waver, holding steady in a way that made his chest tighten. There was something solid about you, something he couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either. An anchor, maybe, in a world that had only ever felt like chaos.

“I don’t know how to…” The sentence faltered, crumbling before it could finish. Harry shook his head slightly, as if that might hide his frustration. How to what, exactly? Let someone in? Say what he was feeling? Be himself again?

“You don’t have to explain anything,” you said, like you could read his mind. Your voice was low, steady, but kind. “I meant it. You don’t have to do this alone. Whatever this is.”

A lump rose in his throat, the kind that tightened every word into silence, but he nodded, managing a quiet, “Thanks.” It felt small, inadequate, but you didn’t seem to mind. You just gave him a smile—small but warm, like the kind of light you don’t notice until it chases away the dark.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence wrapped around you, not heavy or cold, but something softer now. Warm, even. Harry let himself sink into it, his shoulders easing, his usual tension slipping away bit by bit. He glanced down at the grounds, the glow of the castle windows below casting long, soft shadows over the grass.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” you asked suddenly, your voice breaking the quiet but not shattering it.

Harry blinked, caught off guard. “Leaving Hogwarts?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just… walking away. Starting over somewhere far from all of this.”

He hesitated, the idea catching him in a way he wasn’t expecting. The thought of leaving everything—this castle, its whispers, the weight of who he was supposed to be—was both terrifying and strangely tempting. To go somewhere he could just be Harry, without the war, without the name, without the constant pull of the past.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, the word quiet but honest. “But… I don’t think I could. I don’t know who I’d be without all of this.”

You nodded, like you understood. “Maybe that’s something you figure out with time.”

There was no judgment in your voice, just patience, and that startled him more than the question itself. Harry turned to look at you, searching your face for something he couldn’t name. You weren’t pushing him. You weren’t rushing him to have answers he didn’t have. And somehow, that made him ache.

“What about you?” he asked, the words coming out before he could stop them. “Would you leave?”

Your smile was faint, wistful, like the question had passed through you a thousand times already. “I think about it. But I always come back to the same answer.” You paused, your gaze slipping to the horizon. “I don’t think running away fixes anything.”

He nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

You laughed softly, and the sound caught him by surprise. It wasn’t loud, but it was real, and it made something in his chest ease. “Only probably?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile finally breaking through. “Fine. You’re definitely right.”

“There you go,” you teased, your tone lighter now. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

It was strange how the conversation shifted, how the tension between you melted into something easier. Lighter. For the first time in longer than he could remember, Harry felt himself relax into the moment, his guard lowering just enough to let the night and your presence settle over him. For once, the weight on his shoulders didn’t feel so crushing. For once, the world outside the two of you could wait.

─────────────

The hours blurred together, the sky above deepening into a velvety indigo scattered with stars. The castle had fallen silent, the faint hum of voices and clatter of dishes from the Great Hall fading into memory. You hadn’t moved far from him, and Harry found himself noticing—really noticing—how the quiet didn’t feel oppressive anymore. It wasn’t heavy or suffocating. It was just… there. And for the first time in what felt like forever, it was bearable.

When you turned to him, your gaze was steady, searching but not invasive. “Do you think you’ll ever feel normal again?”

The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t laced with pity or weighed down with expectation—it was just honest. Simple. It twisted something inside him all the same. Harry swallowed hard, the knot in his chest pulling tighter.

“I don’t know what normal is,” he admitted, his voice low, like he was confessing something fragile to the night itself. “Maybe I.. never really did.”

You nodded, like that answer didn’t surprise you. Like it wasn’t the wrong one. “I think a lot of us feel that way.”

You didn’t push, didn’t prod for more, and that—more than anything—made him want to keep going.

“When it ended…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping to his hands on the railing. They looked unfamiliar, scarred and pale against the stone. “I thought it would stop. The hurt. I thought I’d feel relieved.” His jaw tightened, and the next words slipped out like they had been waiting for years. “But it didn’t. And now I don’t know if it ever will.”

The admission hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. Harry’s fingers curled against the railing, the cold bite of the stone grounding him. He didn’t look at you—he couldn’t. He didn’t know what he’d see in your eyes, and some part of him was afraid of it.

“You lost so much,” you said softly, your voice steady but laced with something achingly gentle. “It’s okay to feel like that. No one expects you to just move on.”

Harry let out a hollow laugh, bitter and quiet. “Everyone expects me to be fine. To be Harry Potter, the one who saved everyone.” He gestured vaguely to himself, his voice cracking under the weight of it. “They don’t want to see this. Whatever this is.”

“I do,” you said, your voice unwavering.

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the air clean out of him. His head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours. There was no hesitation in your expression, no doubt. Just quiet sincerity, so clear and certain it left him breathless.

“Why?” The question fell from his lips before he could stop it.

You shrugged, a faint, bittersweet smile curving your lips. “Because… you’re more than what everyone sees. And because I think you deserve someone who doesn’t just want the shiny bits of you.”

Harry stared at you, his chest tightening painfully. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to process something so simple yet staggering. No one had ever said anything like that to him before—at least, not in a way that felt this real.

The air between you shifted, heavier now, like it was carrying something unspoken, something fragile but undeniable. You weren’t touching, but Harry could still feel the warmth of you beside him, like a presence he didn’t want to lose. His heart pounded harder, the sound of it loud in his ears.

“I don’t think I deserve it,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

Your brows knit together, a flicker of sadness crossing your face, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stepped closer, close enough that he could see the faint curve of your lashes, the soft press of your lips. “I think you do.”

Harry inhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the railing as you moved into his space. His pulse thundered, and his mind raced with the weight of the moment, with how close you were, with the quiet pull of something he wasn’t sure he had the strength to reach for.

“I don’t want to screw this up,” he whispered, the words raw and fractured.

“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady but kind. “But you don’t have to decide anything right now.”

His eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and he felt something shift in him—like a thread unraveling after being pulled too tight for too long. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing yours again.

This time, you didn’t just let the touch linger. You let your fingers twine with his, warm and certain, the weight of it enough to crack the walls he’d been holding up for so long.

Harry’s breath hitched as your fingers laced with his, the touch so simple yet carrying the weight of something he didn’t quite know how to name. It sent a ripple through him—a warmth that started in his chest and spread outward, leaving a faint ache in its wake. His grip tightened slightly, hesitant but sure, and he drew in a shaky breath, trying to ground himself in the moment.

You didn’t push him, didn’t say a word. You just stayed there, steady and close, your thumb brushing softly over the back of his hand. The stars above blurred into the edges of his vision, the castle fading into shadow. The world narrowed until it was only you, your touch, and the quiet hum of something unspoken between you.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice low and uneven. His green eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable in a way that made his chest feel both too tight and too open. “I don’t know how to let myself… feel like this.”

You didn’t flinch or pull back. Instead, you gave him a small, steady smile, your free hand lifting, hovering just near his arm, a silent question. “You don’t have to know how. You just have to let it happen.”

Harry exhaled, shaky and raw, but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing yours. His heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else, but for once, he didn’t care. He was tired of holding himself together, of keeping everyone out, of pretending he didn’t need this.

And then, almost instinctively, he closed the space between you.

The kiss was gentle, hesitant, like he was afraid of breaking something fragile. Or maybe breaking himself. But the moment your hand slid to his cheek, grounding him, something inside him unraveled. He pressed deeper into the kiss, his other hand rising to rest lightly at your waist. It wasn’t desperate or hurried—it was slow, deliberate, filled with everything he couldn’t put into words.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, pulling him closer, and Harry felt something crack open in his chest. It wasn’t pain, but a kind of aching relief, as though he’d been holding his breath for years and was finally allowed to exhale. For the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t drowning.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the cool night air, Harry didn’t go far. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his hand still at your waist, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric as though afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“Sorry,” he murmured, though there was no regret in his voice, only uncertainty. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted, your voice soft but certain. Your hand slid down to rest over his chest, where his heart still raced beneath your touch. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A quiet laugh slipped from him, more a sigh than anything else. “I’m not used to this.”

“Neither am I,” you admitted, your fingers tracing small, absent shapes against the fabric of his shirt. “But.. I think we’re allowed to have this. Even after everything.”

Your words settled deep in his chest, heavy and grounding in a way that didn’t feel like a burden. He didn’t know if he fully believed you—not yet—but for the first time, he wanted to. He wanted to let himself try, to let himself have this, even if it scared him.

“Stay,” he said quietly, the word barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a question. It was a plea.

Your lips curved into a small, tender smile, and you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

─────────────

The space between you thrummed with tension, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but electric, alive with everything unspoken. Harry’s hand lingered at your waist, the tips of his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt, hesitant but wanting. His other hand gripped the railing behind you, steadying himself as he leaned in, his lips hovering just shy of yours. Your heart pounded, loud enough to drown out the quiet of the night.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted closer, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt, clutching the soft cotton as though it might keep you tethered. His breath ghosted over your lips, warm and uneven, and when he kissed you again, it was different this time—no hesitation, no doubt.

It started slow, the way it had before, soft and searching. But when you pressed closer, your body molding against his, something inside him gave way. The kiss deepened, shifting into something more urgent, more unrestrained, as if the careful control he had been holding onto had finally slipped. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, nothing else existed but the heat between you.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers trailing over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. He felt so solid beneath your palms, so real, and yet the way he kissed you was anything but careful. Your hands found his shoulders, clutching tightly as he kissed you harder, his need for you palpable. One of his hands left the railing to thread through your hair, his fingers tangling there with a kind of reverence that sent a shiver down your spine.

The rough stone at your back was cool, grounding, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Harry’s body pressed against yours. He seemed to be everywhere at once, overwhelming in the best way.

“Is this okay?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and unsteady.

You nodded quickly, your breath catching as he kissed you again, more certain this time. “Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. Your fingers slid to the nape of his neck, brushing against the soft, slightly damp strands of his hair. “More than okay.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips left yours, trailing down along your jaw, slow and deliberate. When he reached the curve of your neck, the heat of his breath against your skin sent a spark shooting through you, and you couldn’t stop the quiet sound that escaped your lips.

The noise seemed to break something in him. His hand slid lower, from your waist to your hip, his thumb grazing the bare skin just above the waistband of your jeans. His name slipped from your lips without thinking, and Harry groaned softly, the sound reverberating against your throat. He pressed you more firmly against the railing, his body bracketing yours as though he wanted to block out the rest of the world.

His mouth continued its path along the line of your throat, slow and reverent, stopping just above the collar of your shirt. Every kiss left a trail of fire in its wake, every touch pulling you deeper into him.

“Tell me if—” he started, his voice hoarse and uneven, but you cut him off, your hands gripping his shirt to pull him back up to kiss you again. This time, you were the one who deepened it, letting him feel the weight of everything you couldn’t say. He responded instantly, his hands roaming over your waist, your hips, your back, as though trying to memorize the shape of you.

You broke the kiss only when you couldn’t breathe, your forehead resting against his as you whispered, “Not here.”

Harry froze for a moment, his breath heavy against your lips, his eyes locked on yours. They were dark, intense, filled with something raw and vulnerable. You half-expected him to hesitate, but instead, he nodded, his hand sliding down to find yours. His grip was warm, firm, and steady, like it was the only thing anchoring him.

“Come on,” he said quietly, his voice low and sure.

You didn’t need to ask where. You just followed, your hand in his, trusting him completely.

─────────────

Harry led you through the castle’s dim corridors, his hand steady in yours. The silence wasn’t awkward—it buzzed with anticipation, each step echoing softly against the stone walls. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you in the moment, though the occasional brush of his thumb against your skin sent a quiet thrill through you, making it harder to focus on anything but him.

He didn’t tell you where he was taking you, and you didn’t ask. You trusted him completely.

When he stopped, it was outside an empty classroom near the Charms corridor. The door creaked softly as he pushed it open, revealing a quiet space bathed in silvery moonlight pouring through tall, arched windows. The room was unremarkable, desks and chairs pushed to the sides, but it felt secluded—safe. A haven away from the weight of everything outside.

Harry let go of your hand only to close the door behind you, locking it with a flick of his wand. The soft click echoed in the stillness, and your pulse quickened as he turned back to face you. His gaze met yours, sharp and intense, and for a moment, you felt frozen under the weight of it.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low, almost uncertain.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you stepped forward, your hands finding the front of his shirt again, pulling him down into a kiss that left no room for doubt. His lips met yours hungrily, and his hands found your waist, anchoring you against him. This time, there was no hesitation in the way he held you, his touch firm but reverent, like he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

The kiss deepened quickly, the tension that had simmered between you all night spilling over like floodwaters. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours like he couldn’t bear even a breath of space between you. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward, and he broke the kiss only long enough to let you pull it over his head, the fabric falling to the floor.

Your gaze drifted over his chest, tracing the faint scars etched across his skin, each one a reminder of everything he’d endured. The moonlight highlighted every line, every curve of muscle, and for a moment, he looked vulnerable—unsure. His chest rose and fell quickly, his nerves evident, but you didn’t let him linger there.

Your fingers brushed over his scars, soft and deliberate, and you leaned in to kiss him again. He melted into it, his hesitance replaced by a quiet urgency as his hands slid to your hips. His lips left yours to trail down your jaw, finding your neck, his kisses slow and infused with something akin to hunger. The heat of his mouth against your skin made you shiver, your breath catching as his fingers found the hem of your shirt and lifted it.

You raised your arms to let him pull it off, and when he stepped back just slightly, his gaze lingered on you in the moonlight, reverent and full of something raw that made warmth bloom low in your stomach.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed to say it aloud.

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, his hands wandering your sides and back, like he was mapping every inch of you. You barely noticed the edge of a desk pressing into the backs of your thighs as he guided you backward, his movements growing bolder with each passing moment.

Your fingers drifted down his chest, following the ridges of his muscles until they found the waistband of his jeans. You worked the button free, and Harry let out a low groan, his forehead dropping to yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained, his green eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart stumble.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of nerves and desire coursing through you. “I want this. I want you.”

Something in his expression shifted, the raw emotion behind his gaze making your chest ache. He kissed you again, slower this time, as though he was trying to pour every unsaid word, every feeling he couldn’t name, into the press of his lips.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you onto the desk with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the warmth of him against you making your breath hitch. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered sound felt all-consuming, pulling you deeper into him.

The world outside disappeared. There was no war, no expectations, no fear. Just Harry—the feel of his hands, the heat of his mouth, the quiet way he murmured your name like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight you both carried didn’t matter. In this moment, there was nothing but the two of you, and that was enough.

Harry’s hands gripped your thighs firmly, his touch grounding and electric all at once. His kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he’d been holding back for far too long. The edge of the desk pressed into your back, but the slight discomfort melted away beneath the heat of his body pressing against yours. Everything about him—his hands, his lips, the low, ragged sounds he made—consumed you entirely.

Your fingers worked at the top of his jeans, fumbling slightly in your haste. Harry groaned softly against your mouth as you finally managed to pull them down, his breath hitching sharply when your hands slipped below the waistband of his boxers brushing against the heated skin just above his throbbing length. His hips jerked slightly at the contact, and the sound that escaped his lips was low and guttural, sending a rush of heat spiraling through you.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. His green eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, and filled with something raw that made your pulse stutter. His hands slid to your hips, fingers brushing against the hem of your jeans. “Can I?” he asked, his voice low and rough, barely steady.

“Please,” you breathed, lifting your hips to help him.

His gaze stayed locked on you as he slid your jeans down, the fabric brushing against your skin in a way that left you shivering. The look in his eyes made your breath catch—a mixture of reverence and want, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His hands trembled slightly as he tossed the jeans aside, and the way his gaze raked over you, slow and deliberate, made warmth bloom low in your stomach.

“You’re…” He trailed off, his words faltering as his eyes met yours again. He didn’t need to finish the sentence; the intensity in his expression said everything his voice couldn’t.

You reached for him, pulling him closer until his bare chest pressed against yours. The heat of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and when his hands slid back to your thighs, parting them just slightly, you gasped quietly. His lips found yours again, slower this time, deeper. Each kiss was deliberate, filled with a need that made your whole body tremble.

One of his hands slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your underwear. The touch was tentative at first, testing, but when a soft moan slipped from your lips, his confidence grew. His fingers pressed more firmly, tracing the heat of you through the fabric, and you arched into his touch instinctively, the sensation overwhelming.

“God, you’re so—” Harry broke off with a groan, his free hand gripping your thigh tightly as you rolled your hips against his hand. His breathing was unsteady now, ragged and uneven. “You’re perfect.”

The words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your pulse race. You reached for him, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, finally pulling the restrictive barrier between the two of you down. His forehead dropped to your shoulder as your hand wrapped around him, the heat and weight of him making your own breath falter. He let out a strangled moan, his hips rocking instinctively into your touch.

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice tight, like he was holding on to the last threads of control. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands trembling as they moved to your waist. “I want to—can I—”

You nodded quickly, your cheeks warm, reaching for him again to help guide his length inside you. The desk creaked faintly as he stepped closer, his hands finding your hips as he lined himself up with you. He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the world stilled.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice softer this time, steady but full of emotion.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice sure despite the nerves and anticipation rushing through you. “I want this, Harry. I want you—all of you.”

That was all he needed.

Harry leaned in, his lips finding yours again as he pushed forward, slow and purposeful. The initial stretch made you tense, your fingers instinctively tightening against his shoulders. But then his breath brushed warm against your cheek, and the soft, shaky sound he let out as he slid deeper sent a ripple through you, easing the tension and replacing it with something else entirely—something that left you breathless.

“You okay?” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. His voice was tight, laced with restraint, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

“Yes,” you whispered, your nails digging lightly into his skin as your body adjusted to him. “Just… don’t stop.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded, his hands trembling slightly where they gripped your waist. He started to move, his hips rolling in a slow, achingly delicious rhythm that made your breath catch. Each motion sent a wave of heat building steadily through you, your body arching instinctively toward his as though you couldn’t get close enough.

“God,” he groaned, the sound rough and raw as it left him. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly to meet his thrusts, and the shift made you gasp. Your head fell back against the desk as the new angle sent a spark shooting through you. “You feel so—”

The rest of his words broke off into a low curse, his lips finding your neck again as his movements quickened. The world beyond the room ceased to exist—the only things that mattered were the soft creak of the desk beneath you, the heat of his body against yours, and the quiet, desperate noises that escaped him with every thrust.

Your hips tilted to meet his rhythm, and the friction left you dizzy, sparks lighting beneath your skin. Your hands slid into his hair, tangling in the messy strands as his face buried in the curve of your shoulder. His breath was hot against your skin, and each groan that escaped his lips sent a shiver coursing down your spine, your body arching into his as the pressure low in your belly coiled tighter.

“Harry,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, raw and unrestrained. His response was a groan that seemed to echo through you, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his touch almost possessive as he pulled you closer.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, the words rough against your skin, reverent and awed. His voice broke slightly as he added, “I—I can’t…”

“Don’t hold back,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure. Your hands slid down his back, clutching at his waist to anchor yourself. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

For a brief moment, his pace faltered, his forehead pressing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment. And then he kissed you again, hard and desperate, his lips crashing into yours as though he needed you more than air. His rhythm grew uneven, each thrust deeper, more precise, until the tension inside you snapped.

The wave that crashed over you left you trembling, your body shuddering in his arms as the heat and intensity overwhelmed you. His name slipped from your lips again, barely audible, as you clung to him.

Moments later, Harry followed, his movements faltering as he buried himself in you one final time. A low, guttural sound escaped his lips as he trembled against you, his forehead dropping to yours. His breaths came fast and ragged, his chest heaving as he held you close, his hands gripping your hips as though afraid to let go.

For a long time, neither of you moved. The room was silent except for the soft hum of your breathing, the faint rustle of fabric as Harry shifted, wrapping his arms more securely around you. He pulled you close, his body still trembling faintly, and you rested your head against his shoulder, your fingers tracing aimless patterns across his back.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice hoarse but filled with quiet concern.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you tilted your head just enough to brush a kiss against his neck. “More than okay,” you whispered.

Harry let out a quiet laugh, low and warm, his arms tightening around you. “Me too,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your temple.

Finally, for what seemed like an eternity. Everything felt right, it felt okay. Like harry could just..exist again.

﹙@ 𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘀𝗼𝘂 ﹚

#☆.— 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗳 #harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry james potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter smut #harry james potter x reader smut #.1𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 🤍

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mtchee · 6 months ago

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An Honour to be in a Harem!? - [Genshin Impact SAGAU] | MDNI | GN AFAB 18+

blurb:

The concept of all these gorgeous people bowing before you is hard to grasp, but it's even worse to think that they'd actually offer themselves to you as a love interest. So obviously, you brush them off and decline, retorting that just because you're their supposed Creator doesn't mean they should feel as though they had to subject themselves to your unwanted affection. After all, who were you really, to compare to them? Unfortunately (or fortunately, actually) they seem quite boggled at your output. Ah! It all makes sense now! Their dearly Beloved is the shy type! Worry not, your Grace! Your dearest acolytes are more than happy to bask in any sort of attention you decide to share! Rest assured, they'll take care of all your needs~

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, kind of a sequel?, afab bodied, you are dearly beloved and longed for <3, realistically if this happened i would rather die of a heart attack, lots of love and affection!!, mdni, spicy content, swearing, smut, overstim, manhandling, voyeurism, squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, sub [name], use of terms cunny cunt pussy tit breasts, help i'm embarassed i wrote this omfg who am i, would u believe me if i said this is my first smut

| masterlist | genshin impact collection |

< prev. - amab! ver. - next. > [afab] [amab]

[3.0k]

What is this bullshit.

You can't help but just blink at the Archon knelt at your feet, his head bowed low. When you emit a shocked squeak he looks up at you, amber eyes latching onto your flustered expression.

Your gaze darts around the few others surrounding your throne--you only really sit in it when the people of teyvat line up for personal prayers and blessings, or when someone tells you to. Otherwise, you avoid sitting in it.

Venti, Ei, Al-haitham, Ayato, Ningguang, Jean, Furina, Neuvillette, and Tartaglia stand past Zhongli who is knelt before you.

You force a polite smile and let out a nervous laugh, "Aha, um... d-dont.. you don't have to do that. Really."

"Do not misunderstand, Beloved," The geo Archon stands to his full height, and you feel small despite the grandness of your seat, "it truly would be my--our, utmost honour." He places a hand over his heart and bows lowly by the waist. The others follow in tandem, and you panic.

"No! Really," Although all your fanfic dreams were coming true, knowing that these are now very much real people and not just characters put you on edge. They all have their own lives to live, their own goals and ambitions, likes and dislikes, preferences and attractions that you certainly didn't and never would attain.

At first, the idea is flustering and the offer makes you feel giddy, but looking into it, you feel bad. They see you as their All-Maker, who are you to make them miserable?

"You don't need to do that. I-I know there's that rumour going around, but really, I'm fine by myself."

"Your Grace," Ei steps forwards with a tiny furrow in her thin brows, "please, it would be our honour--"

"You know what would really be an honour," Your heart stings slightly, but you straighten up on your throne and give your audience a reassuring smile, "is if you went out on your own to seek who you actually love, to find a partner you'll be happy to spend your time with--to love on your own accord. That, would be an honour, I'd say."

You're not oblivious to how everyone reels back at your words, a mixture of shock, fear, and disbelief covering their features sported by prominent frowns.

Al-haitham is the one to break the tense silence that freezes the room.

"Beloved," His eyes flicker over you, thought and theories wiring around his ever working mind, "are we unsatisfactory?"

You blanch, "Gah! No! Oh my--it's nothing like that!" You can't help but feel flushed under the intensity of their eyes.

"It's just, you need to not see me as a duty."

You address them calmly, forcing your fluttering feelings down to school your face passively.

"You need to focus on yourselves, and your own lives. I'm not here to come between that."

Their silent stares are unnerving, and Venti and Furina share a look with hidden smiles while Jean steps forward with a respecful bow.

"Of course, your Grace."

"F-Fuck..!"

Embarassed tears sting your eyeline while you hold your breath, desperately trying to get ahold of yourself.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your pretty eyes roll to the back of your head and a loud moan is forced out of you each time Ayato's fat cock plunges in and out of your sloppy cunt.

He sits leant against the finest silken pillows with your naked back pressed against his bare, toned chest, an arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other sweetly fondles with one of your spit laden breasts.

Thoma lay stomach down on the soft doona, face buried dutifully between your quivering thighs which he holds apart with surprising strength. He tongues at your swollen clit fervently, and you cry out in humiliation when your slick gushes from your slit and onto the expensive fabric below.

"G-nngh!" You clench your eyes shut at the embarassingly loud noise of skin slapping against skin and the lewd sucks of Thoma's mouth and the squelching of your pussy, "a-ah..! Ah! Ah!"

The Kamisato Commisioner lets out a low moan by your ear, feeling your hot and gummy walls squeeze down on his cock deliciously.

"Remember-- hng! R-Remember to breathe, my beloved."

He gently squishes the enticing softness of your tit, bucking up into you abruptly when you let out a squeal as he pinches your nipple.

"M-Mm~ my dearest," Thoma moans onto your slickened pearl, and you just about explode at the burst of electric pleasure that shoots up your spine, "you taste.. divine..~!"

Your heart thrums at the messy sight of him, his lips, chin and cheeks covered in your honey thick slick with half lidded eyes locked onto your expressions. You let out a needy moan when you notice him desperately grinding his naked hips into the bedding for release.

A now all too familiar searing pleasure suddenly coils in the utmost depth of your body, and you scream at the sheer ferocity of it.

"C-Can't! I can't!"

You buck your hips away from Ayato's throbbing length and bump into Thoma's chin, but they only follow you--the commisioner's arm moving from your waist to your hips, locking you in place while Thoma's grip moves from your thighs to the underside of your knees, opening you up and forcibly holding you still.

You dig your nails into Ayato's arm, your other hand fruitlessly shoving at the housekeeper's head to push him away.

The pleasure becomes piercing, and you choke on a sob as your gushing cunny just goes squelch, squelch, squelch with every thrust you have to take. His cock feels so dangerously good, and you fear your clit might bleed from its continuous onslaught of pleasure.

Thoma's tongue licks at the opening of your slit and the base of his lord's cock, and Ayato curses lowly, his grip tightening.

You feel something thick and heavy and hot spurt inside you, though the pounding doesn't let up and the near painful coil violently pops inside you, and you shriek in tandem with the burst of watery clear fluid that squirts from your throbbing cunny.

Your face burns hot with humiliation, and you can only muffle your embarassed moans into the fabric of the couch.

Naked and vulnerable, you're bent ass up and face down over Al-haitham's lap with his dominant hand knuckle deep in your wet pussy.

Maybe, just maybe you might've been able to handle this amicably, but not with Kaveh walking in and berating the Akademia Scribe turned Grand Sage on his pleasure skills.

With your ass held high and knees spread, your leaking cunt is on display for the genius architect while his roommate fingers you ruthlessly, constantly prodding and rubbing that special squishy spot inside you that renders you immobile.

"H-Hah.. mmngh! Ah..."

You can do nothing but take it and drool on the couch while they squabble above you as though you're not there.

"--Y-You brute! That's our beloved and you're treating them like that!?"

"I'd say our Creator quite likes it."

You stifle a screech when Al-haitham takes his other hand and spreads your ass open to prove his argument to Kaveh.

"See?" He takes out his fingers and spreads them apart, watching your hot slick string apart, "and here too." You sob loudly as he gently prods your pussy lips apart to stare down your red, throbbing clit.

Kaveh's face flushes at the lewd display, and he gulps while setting his suitcase down off to the side before approaching.

"A-And?"

"[name] has cum thrice already."

Kaveh's brow twitches, "Were you not going to clean them up?!"

Al-haitham huffs indifferently despite the miniscule tint of pink arousal across his cheeks, "I'll leave that to you."

The blond hmphs at him before cooing at you softly, praising you with your title and demeanour.

"Our beloved," He caresses your back, and you shiver pleasantly at the tingle it stimulates, "you've been so good, haven't you? Done so well..."

He hushes you gently as he moves closer behind you, kneeling at the couch's edge, face level with your puffy cunny. Al-haitham remains quiet this time around, his non-slick covered hand patting your head lovingly.

"It's okay~ I'll take good care of you now, I'll clean you up all nice, alright?"

You only whine when he sinks his tongue into your pussy, lapping up your spilled juices and nipping at your reddened bud. Your body trembles with an absentminded moan when he sucks on your sore little clit, and he emits a noise of suprise as a new abundance of syrup leaks from your opening.

Al-haitham quirks up a brow, "Four times, now."

"Mercy! M-Mercy..!" You cry out.

"Oh," Lisa tuts demeaningly, "no, no, no dear one~ You see, you didn't quite seem to believe our intentions true when we offered ourselves to you. So it only seems right that we prove it, yes?"

You can't squirm away from Eula's mouth, her strength baffling as she keeps you stood still against the Grand Master's desk with ease. Amber mouths at the mounds of your breasts, obessed with how soft the fat of them are.

You whimper loudly when Eula curls her two fingers into your front wall, clenching down on her and nearly screaming when she thrusts them into you punishingly.

Jean can't help but watch in stunned silence of you, your voice and body ethereal. She can't wait to get a taste of her own as you shudder and gasp.

It was bad enough when Venti had his way with you earlier under Vanessa's tree, simultaneously teasing you and giving you everything you wanted.

He ran his mouth with words that were both endearingly sweet and pure debauchery, controlling the winds to graze at your hardened nipples with ghost like touches that left you spasming and breathless.

He'd shown you his choice of belonging to you through the intimate thrusts of his hips and sloppy, loving kisses across your body--he'd then guided you back to the gates of Mondstadt with the help of the wind to keep you balanced.

You cry when a thin zap of purple shocks your pulsing clit, cumming instantly while Eula's tongue soothes over it with the help of her cryo ability. Your lewd honey drips down your leg and onto the floor, and the blue haired girl sneers at the waste of it.

A whimper escapes you when Amber nips at your soft tit a little too harshly, and she murmurs a timid apology, looking up at you reverently before continuing.

"P-Please..!" You hate how they've all been able to make you cry with pleasure, as though they always knew just what they were doing to you, "it..-it hurts now..! A-Aaahhh..."

You let out a long, breathy whine as you cum again, tears steaming down your cheeks as the gentle wave of bliss washes over you. You almost miss Acting Grand Master Jean calling for someone to enter after a knock on the door.

Humiliation of your state causes you to flush and shut your teary eyes as Kaeya walks in, gaze latching onto you immediately.

He closes the door behind him, humming lowly at the sight.

His eye glints in dirty interest, a grin creeping up his lips at the sound of your whimpers and sloppy cunt.

"Oh? It's our turn already?"

"Kaeya! You're just in time," Lisa grins mischieviously, "I believe our dearly beloved is ready for something... thicker, now." She smiles as though her filthy implication were a casual statement of time.

You hate being the centre of attention, but fuck does it feel good. You hate feeling so vulnerable, but good god do they take care of you.

Maybe, just maybe you could allow yourself to indulge in their affections...

Nope.

Hate. You hate, hate, hate, hate hate it.

You whimper quietly, head bowed to hide your face from the prying eyes of the others seated around you.

You're back in the lands of Inazuma, in the very same place you were last time the picnic was set up. It was much more lavish this time around, based in the early evening with a gorgeous ocean view, lights strung up in the trees and scattered atop a few stable rocks.

The blankets laid down were much thicker this time, and the pillows larger and fluffier. The sunset paints the horizon gold and pink which fades into a rich purple and, eventually, the glimmering darkness of night.

You sit in Zhongli's lap, a spare blanket covering your bare lower half as you squirm on his throbbing cock. You could feel his other drooling pre-cum against your lower back.

The others had been coaxing you to eat your share of the platter, Navia and Wriothesly feeding you small portions since you were too shy to do so yourself.

Though ashamed and bashful, you can't help but clench and throb, and you fluster when Zhongli lets out a small groan from behind you.

Navia places a comforting hand on your covered knee.

"Beloved Creator, are you alright?" Her voice is soft, loving.

You swallow sharply, shoulders hunched and tense nervously from those watching.

"Your Grace?" You glance over at Diluc who huffs with a small blush of his own, "we'll take care of you."

Your cunt throbs, and Zhongli thrusts into you.

You yelp at the sudden motion, straightening up instinctively to balance yourself only for your most devoted to thrust into you again, and again, and again. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you seated, and the blanket slowly slips from your lap from the movement.

"A-Ah! Zhon--aahhh!"

Squelch, plap, slap, his fat cock hits the textured roof of your squishy insides and sends an overwhelming shock of pleasure through you. Throwing your head back with a lewd moan, both your embarassment and arousal increase tenfold at the sight of your most shameless worshippers touching themselves at the sight of you.

Others swallow roughly, barely holding themselves back with a single thread of dignity. Those of them watch with eyes that burn your body into memory, and the intensity both frightens and arouses you.

The better of them murmur and coo praises at you, causing your stomach to flutter and your pussy to gush.

You pant loudly when Ayato softly intructs you to breathe, and you squeal when Tartaglia reachs out to play with your pretty clit while rubbing his neglected cock.

"Pl..ease..! Hah..!"

You feel a pair of lips on your neck and whine, whimpering shamefully when Neuvillette starts whispering sweet praise into your ear, sucking on your skin softly. You white knuckle the thick blanket by your forcefully opened legs and clench your eyes shut in humiliation.

Your cunny starts to tingle with sparks of pleasure that strike your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you flush at the feeling of your sex juices trailing from your slit to your ass, soiling Zhongli's clothed lap and the pillows and fabric below.

"Hng! Cumming! AH!" You shriek, thrashing in their hold, "c-cumming! H-Help, 'm cumming-- oohhh~ Ohh~"

That weird prickly feeling coils in your tummy again, and you let out a lewd and bratty whine when they don't let up on their touching.

"S-Slow! PLEASE! F-Fuck! Feels funn-y~!"

When you slap at Childe's hand, your own are quickly restrained by Kazuha who simply smiles with red cheeks and mutters to you flowery reassurances.

The sound of your pussy is loud, it's noisy, and filthy. You emit a desperate, pleading wail, not knowing if your subconscious is trying to beg them to stop or to stay.

Saliva pools in your mouth then begins to hang open as your starry eyes roll into the back of your head, chest heaving.

Your thighs tremble and your fingers twitch--Kazuha intertwines them with his own, and you lock onto the comforting hold.

"G-Good!" You can't stop yourself from babbling, "m-makes me feel soOo goood~!"

"Oh, sweet one~" Yae Miko giggles.

"You understand that we choose you now, yes?" Ningguang hums with a teasing quip. Her eyes torn between your adorably lewd features and your swollen, glistening cunt.

"Relax, beloved. It's only us, your most faithful~"

"Mm, don't hold back, dearest."

"Can you moan for us, beloved? You sound just delicious when you moan!"

"Are you gonna cum for us?"

"It's not fair how they got a taste of you first~!"

"Hng..! A-ah, hah!"

"Oh-oh! Beloved, calm down, you're alright. Just let it happen.."

"Do you feel good, your Grace?"

"--c-cumming- cumming! Cumming..!"

A white hot blaze of heat crashes over you, and your ears ring as your body trembles in utter bliss. Your slick pussy squeezes and gushes with your lewd honey, and as your abused little pearl sears with an almost painful pleasure, your body squirts out your most powerful orgasm that soaks the blankets and the people surrounding.

Pleasure caused tears leave hot stains on your face, and your head lulls to the side tiredly. Your chest heaves for breath as you come down from your high, and it takes a few moments before the ringing finally stops and you can hear again.

Doting whispers and coos are the first thing you process, followed by something thick and hot leaking out of your stretched and now empty hole.

A hand caresses your head as many others touch on you innocently, checking in on you and taking care of you.

Someone holds a glass to your lips, and someone else helps you lean forwards to sip.

You startle at the feeling of a soft mouth coming to gingerly lick and suck at your sore pussy, and you let out a delirious whine.

Another acolyte hushes you gently, kissing you softly before another joins in peppering kisses all over your tired face to distract you from the one cleaning you up between your legs.

You still feel light headed from the embarassment of it all, but you've latched onto the pleasant tingling you feel when they look at you so adoringly--more lovingly than just in reverence.

No, actually.

You don't hate this at all.

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zhongrin · 1 year ago

Text

𒆙 the warrior god

part 1/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

𖧷 tags ┈ gn!reader, young boyfailure morax (well, not exactly, but you see traces of it if you squint-), pining (both ways), fluff, slight gore, major character death

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝓏ealousness was a quality that, most of the time, would not come to you unless you were in a very high spirit, all due to your cautious and shy nature. besides, would it not be unbecoming for a mortal such as yourself, to derive so much excitement over a deity you were not supposed to serve?

…. well, alright, one could say that technically, you were - though not exactly directly.

no, you were lady guizhong’s closest confidant despite being a mortal. so much so that people would sometimes refer to you as her priest/ess. it was an unofficial title that normally you would have prided yourself in, but right now, it was the very source of your dilemma.

but could anyone really blame yourself? surely any mortals would get at least a little bit excited when the apple of their eye’s birthday was right around the corner? shouldn’t one appreciate such occasions even more now, as the archon war was escalating? you could die tomorrow, so you might as well live to the fullest today, assuming it would be your last, right?

“uhm… m-my lord?“ you inwardly cursed the very lips that uttered the embarrassing stammer, but you braved yourself to look up at him, and immediately you were lost in those pools of amber eyes.

somehow, you could always spot something in his eyes - an abstract emotion you couldn’t describe nor comprehend, ever since the first time he laid his sight on you. perhaps it was an unfathomable emotion only gods could feel, just like how they would act outside mortals’ rationality; just like the very first time he met you and gifted you smooth and shiny pebbles with the prettiest patterns, along with other minerals that glittered and shimmered just like the cor lapis lining his back.

you heard the soft call of your name, and you realized you had been caught staring. ogling. at the close companion of the very god you were serving.

oh celestia swallow me whole.

“ah! oh- my- my sincere apologies, how could i dare- please forgive this foolish mortal’s ill manners!” you apologized profusely, body bent in a deep bow, frazzled mind half contemplating to grovel onto the ground to hide your burning face.

“please, there is no need to be so apologetic when you’ve done no offense,” he said, and though you could not hear it from his voice, had you looked up that very moment, you would have seen the slightest pink dusting his cheeks. “ahem… what is it that you require? is everything alright? if anything is inconveniencing you, i will make sure they’re taken care of.”

“your dedication to the people and your duties are as admirable as ever, my lord… we’re all always thankful of your tireless work in maintaining the people amidst these tumultuous times.”

“oh,” the benign expression slipped a little from his face, giving way to a brighter blush and a wider smile. his chest puffed like a proud sandhill crane, the deity cleared his throat, “of course. it’s my duty, after all. but your apt observation and kind words are appreciated.”

“… and… well… if this mortal may be excused for yet another impertinent action…,” you inhaled deeply before presenting the box you had been clutching to your chest towards the wide-eyed deity, “w-will you please accept this humble offering?”

“….. for… me?” the cluelessness in his voice was far too endearing, it tugged your heartstrings almost painfully. the gold of his fingers pulsing as he slowly reached out to grasp the box as if it was the most fragile glass that could shatter with the slightest push.

“yes- well- this time, unlike the previous years, you couldn’t have any banquets, so i thought- uhm- you know- i just…. wanted to wish you a happy birthday….”

oh celestia swallow me whole NOW.

his fingers, despite glowing with the power of geo, shook slightly as he unlocked the latch of the box with the most care you had ever seen someone muster to open such a simple contraption. you then heard his breath hitch at the sight of a golden hair clip, perfectly matching the pattern of his outfit, sitting on top of a velvet cushion.

“….,” your lord was silent for far too long, and you decided if celestia did not answer your call, you would instead dive headfirst into your blankets back home to wallow in shame.

“then!!! i must uh- prepare some tea for madam guizhong! so if you’ll excuse me-”

“thank you.”

“— i- huh…… y-yes?”

“thank you for your thoughtfulness."

“…... oh… but of course… you’re welcome… my lord…”

the warrior god- no… your protector god was as good-hearted as he was good-looking, there was no doubt about that. anyone could look at him and they would've felt their hearts flutter when they saw his magnificent form. but there was no mistaking the giddy and smitten feeling flooding your chest as he directed such a genuine, joyful smile to you.

i love you.

…. and as the foreseen war raged the very next day - as you felt the arrows sinking into your vitals and your life essence soak into the trembling cracking breaking ground, you clutched the stone pendant within your hands as your eyes slowly fluttered shut.

you had no regrets.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #rin writes #∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

End Game 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: have a great friday, dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Maris Street. You rarely go that way. It’s near the core of the town, closer to the west end where green hedges and white picket fences cordon off the suburban elite from the commoners like you. It suits him, doesn’t it? You assume this is what he’s used to.

The venom roils in your gut as you approach Oxford Drive. You stop before the sleek grey exterior. The black trims and large golden moniker in all caps add to the extravagant effect. Flowers boxes stand outside the windows that glow amber with rich ambience from within. The nicest place you ever went was the Korean Barbecue your dorm mate dragged you to; this is well beyond that.

You take a breath and look down at yourself. You’re still wearing the black jeans and plain tee you sport for your job. Former job. Your beat-up sneakers perfectly match your thrifted aesthetic and the purse strap twisted around your hand and wrist frays as if to assure everyone that you don’t belong.

You go to the front door and pull it open. You step inside to the low drone of stringy music and the subtle clink of glasses amid the low murmur of voices. You chew your lip as you approach the tall round desk where the hostess stands over the open reservation book, like some mystical keeper of scrolls. How very Skyrim of her.

She gives you a look, one you expect. You sniff and cross your arms, the strap of your purse further straining your circulation. You exhale and peek over at the dining room.

“Hi, I um...” your cheeks pinch as you find it difficult to speak. “I’m meeting someone.”

“You are?" Her skepticism drips from her voice, “are you certain they’re... here?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if he made a reservation or whatever. Obviously, I’m not a regular,” you snipe back. You’re too exasperated to hold back. You don’t need her judging you too. “Older, beard, uh, tall... Andy Barber. Is he in the book?”

She flutters her pretty lashes and looks down. You watch her. She’s a few years older than you. Tall, balayaged hair, slender, perfectly bowed lips. What about her? Or someone like her? Why wouldn’t he want that instead? Why is he bothering you?

“Barber,” she nods, “yes, he’s here.”

She seems surprised by that. She steps out from behind the desk and tells you to follow. You obey. You have to. This is all just pulling teeth. He has you toothless already.

You keep your head down as you trail behind her. You only look up as you sense a figure on the other side of her. Andy stands as you approach and you nearly choke. You want so bad to just turn around and run away.

A line deepens in his forehead and disappears. He smiles as the hostess waves you forward. He comes around to pull out the other chair before you can. You retract your arm and barely withhold your frustration. Can’t he understand you want nothing from him?

You sit stiff and fix your bag in your lap, slowly unwinding the strap from your wrist. The hostess promises a server will be with you soon and struts away. You stare at the table cloth and as Andy sits, darkening the edge of your vision, you turn to glare at the far wall.

You feel even more demeaned sitting there in your jeans in tea among the crystal and tall-stemmed lilies. The tinkle of the soft woodwind music makes your head buzz yet the smell of the food teases your empty stomach. Your eyes drift to a group of older women, laughing over wine, a symbol of what you’ll never be. Happy. Free.

“Thanks for meeting me. I guess you’ve never been here before,” Andy begins.

You shake your head and flick your eyes to the ceiling. You grit down on his words. Why is he acting like this is normal?

“Nice place, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you snap and look at him directly, nearly growling in his face, “very nice. Upscale. Well above me.”

You cross your arms and sit back, your purse strap still loosely clinging to your wrist. His chest rises and he exhales through his nose. He leans forward and his cheek ticks.

“I brought you here for dinner, so we could talk, get to know each other--”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” you insist, almost teary-eyed from your rage. You don’t like being angry. You’ve never been very good at and more times, you end up blubbering. “Kara, my friend--”

He tilts his chin up and sets his gaze firmly on you, “we’ll get to that.”

“No, now,” you hiss.

He huffs through his nose. He looks around, silently chewing his agitation. He sits up and replaces that manufactured smile as a server approaches.

“Good evening, can I get you started with drinks?” He asks, his dark shirt finely pressed and buttoned to the very top.

“No thank--” you begin.

“We’ll take a bottle of cabernet,” Andy interjects, “for the table. Oh, and could we get some fresh bread. This has been sitting out.”

The server acquiesces and takes the basket as Andy hands over the wine menu. You barely keep from rolling your eyes. You’re not here to eat and drink and be merry. Kara is quite possibly behind bars.

You glare at him and wait. The server leaves as you keep your arms folded, fingers clamped tightly. He looks at you as if there’s nothing wrong. As if this is all normal.

“I want to know what’s going to happen to Kara. You said you can help--”

“I can,” he says casually, “so let’s have a nice dinner and then I’ll do just that.”

“But she’s--”

“They’ll have her in holding, question her, then they’ll have to figure out charges, yada, yada,” he explains, “don’t worry, I’ll give them a call after, tell them my client is invoking her right to an attorney.”

Your chest thumps and your ears ring. He’s so confident. He already knows you can’t say no. Not to him or this dinner. You have to sit there and celebrate his victory that came with your defeat. It’s not right. It’s... it’s... deranged.

“Why?” You croak.

“Why?” He shakes his head.

“Why are you doing this? Why me? Why not someone... someone you can relate to? Someone your age?”

“Why you? You’re perfect, sweetheart. Perfect for me,” he coos, “come on, we get along. We did. I know I messed things up but it can’t change that we had fun. We did, didn’t we?”

You swallow and shrug. Those nights you stayed up and mined or raced or whatever, they were fun, they were nights you look forward to. But every single one was a lie.

“Sure, but... what if I’d lied to you? What if I wasn’t me? What if I was some guy in a basement--”

“You weren’t.”

“But what if--”

“I know you weren’t.”

“How could you know--”

“I just did. You’re so genuine, so... kind, that can’t be fake,” he insists.

You sink down, slumping your shoulders, and look away. What can you do? You’re exactly where you never wanted to be. With less options. With none.

“What do you want from me?” Your dry mouth crackles around your words.

He’s quiet as the server returns. He sits back and you lift your chin as you watch the server uncork the bottle. He pours the wine and Andy asks for a few more minutes with the menu. Again, you have no appetite.

When you’re alone again, Andy takes a breath and shifts in his chair. He brings his hands together, pinching his left ring finger as if he’s missing something. He quickly pulls his hands apart.

“You. That’s all I want,” he breathes.

You stare at him. You don’t understand. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to. If you keep denying it, it might not be the very idea that makes your skin crawl.

He reaches for his glass of wine and holds it out. You stare at it, then look him in the face. You can’t wipe the horror from your face.

“Cheers to us, sweetheart,” he says, “me and you.”

You shake your head as he waits. Slowly you take the glass before you and raise it. He clinks the crystal between you.

“It’s the first day of the rest of our lives,” he declares, “we can both build the home we always wanted. Together.”

🎮

Andy pays the bill as you wallow in futility. This is it. Your life is over. All because of one mistake. All because you trusted the wrong person.

He stands first and you follow. He grabs the to-go box of the food you barely touched. You’re in such a fog, you can barely think. He gestures you towards the door as he nudges you with the box. You hug your purse to your stomach and walk between the tables.

The cool night air wakes you up. As you come to the sidewalk, you stop. You turn back to him and wet your mouth, a hint of wine on your tongue.

“Call. Right now,” your voice shakes.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” He inclines his head as if he doesn’t understand.

“The police. Call. You said you would help Kara,” you insist.

His brow arches and he nods. He holds out the container and you take it stiffly, letting your purse dangle from your shoulder. He pulls out his phone as he stares at you. Finally, he looks down and scrolls. He clears his throat before he puts it to his ear.

“Hi, yes, this is Andy Barber, I’m an attorney for a woman in your custody. Yes, I do.” You listen to the piecemeal conversation, “name is Kara Orascio. Yes, she won’t be talking to the police any longer. That’s correct.” He pauses and listens intently, “I’m out of town but I can be there tomorrow. Sure.”

He hangs up as his eyes cling to you still.

“So, looks like we need to pack,” he says.

“What?” You utter.

“Don’t you want to see your friend?” He challenges.

“Well, yes, but I thought you--”

“I’m not coming back here again. So, you’re coming. We’ll deal with your friend’s charges then we’ll go home.”

You blink, “home?”

“Sure, sweetheart, I got it all ready for you,” he turns down the sidewalk and takes your hand.

You have the urge to rip your hand out of his. You want to tell him not to touch you. You want to scream and run away. You don’t because you want to save Kara more.

“I meant what I said before. I can get you into school down there,” he guides you along, “you’ll like it. It's close to Boston. Place called Nelson. You ever been to Massachusetts?”

“Hm, no, didn’t travel much.”

“That’s okay. We can do some of that too. Still got lots of summer left. We could go somewhere sunny,” he drawls, “you know, it gets gloomy in the fall so we may as well enjoy it while we can.”

“Sure,” you murmur.

Your feet are heavy, your head too, every part of you just wants to give up. Haven’t you? Isn’t that what this is? You surrender.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He stops and lets go of you, fishing around in his pocket.

“I’m...” your vision narrows in; just like the moment you first met him. As Andy. As the real him. As the twisted man you just sold your soul to. “...tired.”

“Aw, yeah, well, it’s been a long few days. For both of us. You wanna come back to my hotel. The bed’s really cozy and the tub is deep. You could relax for the night before we gotta get on the road,” he offers.

You shake your head, “n-no,” you stutter. The last thing you want to do is be alone behind closed doors with him. “You said... pack. I should... do that.”

“Ah, I did. Alright, I’ll take you to your grandma’s. I’ll have to come early so we can get to your friend.”

“Right,” you agree coarsely.

“Trust me. I know how to handle cops,” he chuckles and pulls out his keys, unlocking the car right beside you. He opens the door and steps back, “I’ll call ahead. Get us a room as there too. I guess you’re going to want to catch up with your friend while we’re there. Might be a while before you see her again.”

You wince and look at him. A while. You look around at the street lights. You’re not unhappy. Leaving this place doesn’t matter to you but leaving Kara, possibly forever, that’s a knife in the chest. But forever is easier if you know she’s okay. If you know she doesn’t pay for your stupidity.

You nod and get in the car. You can’t speak. If you even try, you’ll bawl. The end is there, you feel it closing you in with the car door.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #end game #defending jacob

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gloryy-vs · 2 years ago

Note

Omg can I pleaseeeee request overprotective neteyam keeping the creeps away from his girl?

I just want a protective bf😭

yes. you’re just like me fr 🤭

characters: neteyam x reader

ratings: sfw, fluffy, protective/possessive neteyam

Eye On It

Neteyams hand was firmly placed on your lower back, his fingers pressing down harder each time a wandering eye from another Na’vi found its way to your frame. He was extremely gentle with you, always tending to your needs no matter the situation, but when it came to other people he grew protective and almost aggressive towards them if they had anything negative to say about you, or anything inappropriate.

You two sat next to each other amongst other Na’vi, everyone taking time during the feast that usually occurred during eclipse. You were thoroughly enjoying your platter of berries and ripened fruit, but the 8 foot man next to you seemed to be on edge. You side eyed him, seeing he held a forest fruit in his other hand that wasn’t on you. Neteyam didn’t even take a bit of it yet, his amber eyes were trained on something across for you. Your eyes darted to the direction, seeing two boys nervously eating, avoiding all eye contact with you and instead bowing their heads every time they looked up and still say Neteyam staring into their soul.

The boy to the left looked up and you locked eyes with him for a second too long, and he smiled out of embarrassment. You gave him an awkward smile, and felt Neteyams hand instantly leave your lower back. He stood up, inconspicuously marching towards the group, his braids swaying with each step. The two boys stood up defensively, dropping their fruits and raising their arms up. Neteyam shoved the one that looked at you, his face filled with anger. “Back. Off.” Your own eyes widened in shock, not knowing how to process the aggression radiating from your mate. You could tell the other Na’vi people noticed, and heard their whispers consisting of, ‘They finally got what was coming to them.’ Or a, ‘Those skxawngs disrespected her again, didn’t they?’ Nobody seemed to bat an eye at Neteyams outburst, they thought it was well deserved.

Your mate walked back after he forced the group of young boys to leave, and he took his seat next to you, finally eating his share of food. “Nete, my love. What was the meaning of that?” You said, your accent thick as you leaned into him. Your eyes were glazed in confusion, he turned his head to you. “All month, they have been giving you the rudest, most disgusting gestures I’ve seen.” He scrunched his nose up, agitated at the mere thought. “Tonight was the last straw for them. They won’t bother you again..” Neteyam turned his head back to his food, taking a few more bites. You sat there, your arms dropping down as you began to recall ever seeing them. “My love, I don’t recall them-” He cut you off.

“Behind your back. All of it. They mimicked crude and sexual gestures, stared at the way you walked ahead of me. I tell them off and they would continue every other day. Don’t worry about it, you’re safe with me.” He said. You figured he wouldn’t want to go into more detail, and you’re glad he didn’t let it go unnoticed. You scooted closer to Neteyam, letting your thigh touch his while your head dropped down to his shoulder. He sighed contently, tearing off some of his food for you, feeding it to you while feeding himself. His head rested on top of yours, glad he could finally keep you safe and away from scoundrels like them.

#avatar neteyam #avatar way of water #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar jake #avatar loak #neteyam #neteyam x you

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fantasticarcadefan · 2 months ago

Text

The Stream

Part 2: Detainment.

Warning: OOC, inaccurate character representation, possible inaccurate workplace representation, Imposter SAGAU,

The searing pain in your right elbow seemed to grow weaker as you prepared to run from Amber and try to dodge her arrows, but it wouldn't do you any good in the long run. Her eyes, usually filled with kindness and innocence back when you were back on earth, were filled with distaste and possibly bloodlust, ready to be released if you made a wrong move.

"I know what you're thinking,"

She says, her bow still cocked at you, now with a new arrow.

"There's nowhere left for you to run. We can do this the easy way, or slightly harder way. So do us both a favor and just surrender. It's best for you to face divine judgment imposter."

She says. Which brings up another question for you. What does she mean imposter? As far as you knew, there was no one else in Teyvat that bore your face, nor was there anything said in the game about copying people's faces. But then again, you aren't sure what to ask without the risk of being shot to death.

You decided to go ahead and follow her in an attempt to not get shot.

"Alright, I'll go with you. I don't want any trouble"

You say. Cause you don't know what chances you have against Amber, since she, like just about all of the characters now that you think of it, is a lot more athletic and skilled in combat than you.

"You've already caused a lot of it, false god. Now, turn around and hands in your back or I'll have to kill you here." She threatens, pulling out a piece of rope.

This isn't the Amber that you've known before. In the game, you saw her as a kind soul, always trying to help the people of Mondstadt as an outrider. But now, she's a ruthless soldier, ready to kill given a chance.

'What happened to you Amber?' You ask yourself, feeling your hands be tied up.

Amber comes back into view, bow still drawn. "Good. Follow me, or I'll have to put a few holes into you." She says,using her right hand, pulling out the arrow in your shoulder.

You grunt, trying to muffle the pain when you see an oddity. On the arrow she just pulled out was a blood, surrounding a drop of golden fluid, before she shook it off, with it landing on her arm sleeve, she started walking, with you tailing behind.

'Certainly more professional than those SAGAU imposter fanfics with everyone trying to kill the reader on sight' you think, following close behind as you reminisce of the old days before your arrival, back when this was a game.

As you keep walking, you came across several other NPC'S, mostly adventurers or civilians giving you distasteful, disapproving, or downright hateful glares, with a few knights joining Amber in escorting you.

As you keep walking, you partly hear the sounds of battle farther away from your location, likely forces from the knights battling against the monsters here.'Hopefully they'll allow me to stay with them if needed.' You thought to yourself, hopeful on them accepting you if you escape.

Approaching the bridge heading into Mondstadt, you somehow activate element sight, or something reminiscent of it. Slowing your pace, attempting to make use of this ability to see what it does.

Taking a look around, you notice that the knights seem to be completely covered in this red energy, reminiscent of a storm. The same could be said for the other NPCs you see except for Amber, who seems to be mostly covered in this red storm, but it seems to be slowly pushed back by this golden hue, currently occupying most of her lower arm and with it slowly expanding.

"Get a move on!" One of the knights yells, hitting you on the back with the butt of his sword, disengaging your elemental sight. Grunting from the pain, you return to your original pace, entering the city surrounded by them, with Amber in the lead.

Entering the city, you couldn't help but stare in awe at it. Mondstadt was one of the first places you wanted to travel to if you could, following in the footsteps of the traveller. Had it not been for the escorts surrounding you, you would've wandered into the city, forgetting of your detainment.

As you continue to approach the Knights of Favonious headquarters, people bagan to crowd around your group, calling specifically you names, making threats to you, and harassing you.

Arriving at the entrance of the Headquarters with the mob surrounding, you catch sight of Jean, with Lisa tailing and for a moment, an ember of hope grows, seeing the two. But upon seeing her face with it being the same emotions as the crowd, the ember of hope greatly dimmed.

"So this is the imposter that we were warned about?" Jean asks Amber, with Lisa looking over you critically.

"Yes Jean. Same appearance, no sign of their gifts, and red blood as well." She says, but something in your mind, whether it's you being delusional or not, tells you that she's not fully confident of her response.

"Good. We'll take it from here." Jean says, before walking over to you, stopping Infront of you.

"By the order of the Knight of Favonious and the creator, you're under arrest." She says before looking at two of the knights behind you. "Take them to the holding cells in the Headquarters. Their grace would want them alive for their judgement"

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

"Anything else that we know about this player?" Robert asked, watching as the imposter, as the NPCS called them, try to call out to them, seeking reason only to fall on deaf ears.

"Only one thing." Cody Rhyil, one of the developers replied "The system is showing that this account is streaming. From where it's streaming to, that's being looked into." He finishes, looking back at Robert.

Robert, still holding the laptop with it showing Chang in his office, with the others bringing it to their own development offices and reporting the same thing.

'How is it that these events are happening across all versions?' Robert wondered, unsure of what to do. Regardless of the game version, whether it was an old or unreleased version,

It was eventually Chang who spoke up. "Continue observation of the world. There's not much that we can likely do on our end, but get me in touch with your social media manager." He says,taking a deep breath.

"Whoever is doing this may be the streamer. Have them make an announcement, asking about any current streams showing off versions of Teyvat."

"But why wouldn't they try to contact us if they had the game at their control?" Amala Rosil, an intern who recently joined asked.

"Why, we don't know." Robert says, answering for Chang. "Whether or not this is so they want to see us burn because they see this as a game, or for revenge, we have to know." He finishes, looking back at the group.

"For now, keep up observations and try to delete the code of this creator. And if you're unable too, find a pattern in where their code goes." He finishes.

Immediately afterwards, the office day resumes, with everyone returning back to their current tasks, with Robert not being any different and making his way back to his office, closing the door behind him, setting down and plugging in the laptop.

"I believe this is a good place to stop this meeting." Chang says, looking back at the rest of the chat room.

"I'm going to be contacting your social media manager as well as Liu about what we've found out. Expect contact with the other development teams, for we're dealing with the unknown, and need to be ready for what may happen next."

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

"So we're seeing a live SAGAU stream, yeah?" Jason asked.

"That's pretty obvious." Replied Rebecca.

The stream had been a shock to them, with it showing Mondstadt personifying distrust, possibly the distrust that's been shown to the Fatui directed at them.

And there was the topic of the elemental sight they used, which showed the knights around this imposter covered in a red cloud like cover, and the Amber's cover being repelled by a golden one.

"So could we assume that we're likely seeing this from the eyes of the creator, yeah?" Jasmine asked, trying to confirm the details they knew.

"Possibly, but we don't know about their look alike, so we'll have to take that into consideration." Jacob replies.

Ever since they found this channel, it had been awfully a lot like those AI show streams, those that had written by an AI chatbot and had a scene played by another.

The only differences between this and those were those voices sounding more natural compared to an AI voice generator and it not accepting donations despite the icons being there, notepad being opened and the line, "The Gatekeeper has yet to arrive", being the only response in the same text that was shown to modders and the donation being refunded.

All in all, the group came to the conclusion that this was related to the SAGAU themed lore that Mihoyo claims wasn't supposed to be there. As to why they haven't responded to this, who knows? They did say they were conducting an internal investigation into the SAGAU related lore.

As they were going over their findings, a buzz rang from each of their phones. Jacob picked his up, and saw it was from the official Genshin and Mihoyo accounts on Twitter.

"We got something!" Jacob yelled, getting their attention. "We got news about the crash !"

"Then read what it says!" Jasmine yelled, curious to know, opening up Twitter.

Taking a deep breath, Jacob read the message that was sent.

"Greetings Travellers! We'd like to apologize for the lack of contact between us in regards to the sudden shutdown of Genshin Impact's servers.

We believe this to be the result of a cyber attack, but we have no idea who's responsible due to nobody claiming responsibility for it. In addition, all developer versions of Genshin Impact seem to be acting on their own and all changes we make to the game aren't saved.

However, progress has been made recently, and the situation here shows relative similarities to the SAGAU imposter trope, where the reader is brought into Teyvat and hunted down by the game's characters, being accused of being an imposter of their maker. We are still trying to identify who's who.

In addition, the one being hunted, has been identified as a player by the system, and is apparently streaming. We ask you to post any streams in your retweets.

For those that find the stream, you'll be rewarded greatly with high amounts of in-game rewards. One of these will include 500 wishes, for both limited and permanent character runs. If you found it with others, we will give you each half of the original amount. We're also giving away 100 wishes to up to four friends of your choosing, which you could ask for upon us contacting you

We thank you greatly for your patience as we try to resolve the situation, and may fate smile widely upon you!

-The Genshin Impact Development team.

"Five h-hundred, wishes??!"Jasmine yelled, shocked at the amount available.

"And half for each person involved!" Jacob shouted, rereading the other part of the rewards.

"That's so much!" Jason yelled, completely shocked at the amount available.

"Is the situation that bad there?" Olivia pondered, questioning the high reward available to those that had information about the stream.

"Must be, if they're offering that much in wishes." Jason replies.

"Should we call Y/N, hopefully they've seen the announcement." Olivia asks, wondering if they should call their friend."

"Maybe not." Jason said. "They sometimes pull all nighters for more than one day, and they tend to lack a filter" He explained

"True." She replied, remembering how vocal they could be on their opinions due to a lack of sleep.

"We could mention them in as a friend for the One hundred wishes." Jasmine offers. "We don't know when they'll be awake."

"True, that sounds like a good plan. And the rest of you?" Jason asks, checking with the group.

"Yeah, it couldn't hurt." Jacob agree.

"Sure. Sounds good to me." Olivia agrees, confirming the group's next move."

"Alright. I'll send the stream and mention you guys as helpers." Jason says, opening a new tab on his PC and typing in the Twitter URL. Once loaded, he went to the main Genshin Account and retweeted the post, adding the link to the stream, and mentioning the group as helpers, and @'ing the main account before posting it.

"Alright, that's done." Jason says, with the group celebrating at the prospect of the high amount of wishes they'll be gaining.

Once they calmed down, Jacob asked a question. "So what do we do now?" He asked, unsure of what they wanted to do.

"Let's keep watching this stream, I'm curious to see where this goes." Olivia said, wanting to see where it went.

A round of agreement sounded from the group, confirming their goals.

"Then let's see what happens next." Jason says, turning back to the stream, where it showed someone in what they're assuming to be either a holding cell, or the Mondstadt jail.

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

Greetings Readers!

Sorry for not posting in a while, been having writers block with other ideas floating up.

I'm gonna try to get some of these out soon, drop a building on me on where to improve.

Below is the taglist. I'm gonna make a separate post asking if you want to be added to it.

| @valeriele3 @bunniotomia |

#genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #cult au #fanfic #self aware genshin #ocs #imposter sagau

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velarisnightsky444 · 3 months ago

Text

Scorched Shadows: Part 10

Eris x AzrielsSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up.

cw: mentions of child abuse

a/n: ik, ik, main character who plays piano and loved the symphony, how original. but i genuinely didn't put the pieces together until after i thought this up.

Series Masterlist

Part 9 || Part 11(upcoming)

»»————-　♔　————-««

Year: 19 since fic began Year: 15 Under the Mountain

Attending a ball was the last thing on your mind. Especially after what had happened at the last one you'd attended.

There was one tonight, and you'd decided you wouldn't go. Rhys wouldn't be there, anyway. Seeing Rhys was the only reason you ever attended Amarantha's festivities. Even if you couldn't always speak with him, just a glimpse of him made it worth it.

Things had been tense between you and Eris in the last five years. Of course, fights were something you were both used to. You were always fighting.

But no matter how intense the fights got, it never ended the fling between the two of you.

So, of course, you were currently on your way to his bedroom. He was a nice distraction; that was all he was. Why you couldn't find a nice distraction with any other male, you weren't sure. You and Eris had nearly two decades of history. That made things easier. Knowing that neither of you owed the other anything.

When you arrived, you found his bedroom empty. You huffed, checking the clock on the wall. He said he'd be back by now.

So you plopped down on his bed, breathing in the scent of him, then scolding yourself when you realized you were savoring it.

The door opened, and you sat up to greet him, freezing only when your eyes met those of a female.

The Lady of Autumn stood in the doorway, her russet eyes wide. Her red hair was almost lifeless as it fell down her shoulders. She was much too thin, her face gaunt.

You flushed a deep red, scrambling from Eris's bed.

"Oh, dear, I apologize," she said quietly, her voice meeker than you expected. "I was looking for my son."

"No, my Lady, I'm sorry," you stammered, bowing your head to her. "This . . . this isn't what it looks like, I was just looking for him, I'm so sorry--"

"No need for that," she assured you, a slight smile on her lips. It looked out of place for her. "I will come back later."

Just as she was making to leave, Eris came strolling into the room. He seemed almost carefree; that is, until he took in the view before him. His amber eyes flitted from you to his mother, then back.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shooting you a look before turning to his mother.

"Mother, I--"

"I don't want to know, Eris," she said to her son. "We'll talk about it later."

"Don't tell--"

"I won't." With that, she was gone.

You loosed a breath of relief, collapsing headfirst onto his bed. He closed the door behind him, making a point to lock it.

"That was humiliating," you grumbled into his pillow.

"Agreed," he said, sitting beside you. "But she won't tell anybody."

"Does she know that we're--" you trailed off, usually not speaking the word 'mate' out loud.

"No," he admitted. "Nobody knows."

"I haven't told anybody, either," you said.

"I figured," he scoffed. "Your brothers would've strung me up by now if they knew." You couldn't quite disagree.

"Well, I think the mood has officially been ruined," you declared, sitting up and making to leave.

"Wait," he said. You froze, turning your attention to him. "The ball tonight. Come with me."

"No," you scoffed.

"Why not?" he mused. "I have nobody to go with. Might as well be you."

"I'm flattered," you glared.

"Besides, Amarantha is hosting a meeting with the High Lords during the ball," he reminded you. "Your brother and my father won't be there."

"Your brothers."

"Will be too drunk to see straight," he assured you. "The ballroom beside it will be empty. We would still be able to hear the music. Then, we'd be alone."

"Why do you want to go with me so badly?" you demanded.

"Old times sake," he shrugged. "Who knows, maybe dancing together again will reverse the mating bond." You snorted.

"Fine," you sighed. "But only because I miss music and dance."

"We'll meet at 8."

»»————-　♔　————-««

You couldn't believe how nervous you were as you got ready. Rhys had supplied you with some money, so you bought a new ballgown from the seamstress that lived in the room beside yours.

Night Court colors. A deep violet gown with a flowing skirt and a tight, strapless, bodice. One that showed off your breasts in a way you knew would drive Eris mad.

Mostly, you were looking forward to hearing the orchestra. You loved music. You always had.

When you were very little, you'd once broken away from Azriel during your time out of the cell.

You had run amuck around the house until you found yourself in a room. It looked unused, white sheets covering the furniture. But on a side table, there was a symphonia.

You hadn't known what it was at the time, so you'd messed with it until it began playing music. You had gasped, sitting beside it and listening.

By the time your hour was up, Azriel had found you. He'd scolded you for going upstairs as he dragged you back to the cell. The upstairs was strictly forbidden for the both of you.

But you did it again. Nearly every day for months, you found yourself in that room, listening to the music.

Until the day your stepmother had found you. The lashings she had bestowed upon you, plus the beating you had gotten from your father, had been severe enough to keep you from going upstairs ever again.

Azriel saw how upset you were to have lost the music. He began singing to you to calm you down, and it helped.

After you both moved to Windhaven, your new family had a hard time connecting with you. You were shy, and you didn't speak. So they all went to Azriel for advice. He had told them you loved music, jokes, and stories.

Selene told you stories, and you loved them. Especially the ones about her and your mother, from when they were girls together.

Cassian made it his mission to make you laugh everyday after his training. He told you jokes, and delighted in hearing your laughter.

Selene also taught you to play the piano. There was a small one in the sitting room. And you loved listening to her play, as well.

Over the years, you became a very skilled pianist. Your brothers always said you should've made a career out of it, but you didn't want it to become a job. You loved it simply for the art.

And every time you went to Velaris, Selene took all of you to the symphony. From the first time, when you were seven, you fell in love. It became your favorite thing to do.

But after she had died, all of you struggled to go back. It wasn't until decades after her death that you all decided she would've wanted you to attend, to enjoy it for her.

So now, every year on the day she died, you would all attend the symphony in her memory. And the orchestra always dedicated the music to her on that specific night.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had lost weight, just as everyone had under here. We were kept from starvation, but Amarantha made sure none of us were well fed. She only supplied food at her parties.

Your skin was paler, though still dark due to your Illyrian heritage. You hadn't felt the sun in ages.

Despite that, you looked beautiful in your dress. Your hair was curled, your makeup simple.

You looked just like your mother when your hair was curled. You missed her so dearly. You hoped Azriel was visiting her regularly, and you hoped she wasn't too worried about you.

Thoughts of your mother kept you distracted from the nerves as you strolled through the corridors, to the ballroom.

You fidgeted with your scarred hands, trying not to chew on your lower lip and ruin your red lipstick.

You carefully snuck over to the empty ballroom, beside the one that was buzzing with life and music. You were good at blending into the shadows, so nobody noticed when you slipped into the other room.

Eris was already there, looking fine in his maroon suit. He turned, his amber eyes meeting yours. The breath loosed from your throat at the sight of him. He was so incredibly handsome. It still shocked you.

You could hear the music playing from the other room. You closed your eyes for a moment, indulging in the notes. The beauty of music was always enough to relax you.

Eris had his hand out to you when opened your eyes. You curtsied, taking it.

"You clean up nice," he commented.

You rolled your eyes, placing you other hand on his shoulder as his went to your waist. And you began to dance.

"Wish I could say the same of you," you lied.

"Is that why your heart skipped a beat when you saw me?" he taunted you. "Interesting."

"You're a prick," you mumbled. He only grinned, spinning you.

Eris was a excellent dancer. You were able to keep up with him, but your skill paled in comparison.

"Where did you learn to dance properly?" he asked you.

"What?" you demanded, making a sour face.

"I wouldn't think a bastard would be taught to dance," he explained. You only glared.

"Rhysand taught me," you admitted. "When I was ten."

Selene had gotten you a symphonia of your own, and with it, Rhys taught you to dance. He saw how jealous you were of him going off to important High Lord balls. So he taught you.

He had been thirteen, but tall for his age. And you had been ten, and small for yours. So you stood on his feet, reaching up to hold onto him.

As you got older, he began taking you as his date to every ball. It was one of the reasons he had taken you to the masquerade with him.

He knew you thought badly of yourself, being so low born. So he did his best to make you feel special.

He was never embarrassed about bringing his little sister as his date, even after he became High Lord. He said he loved seeing your face light up, and it always did when you walked into the ball on his arm.

"He taught you well," he complimented. "You dance just fine for a bastard."

"You don't need to follow up a compliment with a insult every time," you said to him, exasperated.

"I'm a cruel bastard, remember?" he scoffed. "What else would you expect?"

"Despite what I may have said five years ago," you began. "I do not believe you are as cruel as you pretend to be."

"You don't?" he hummed.

"Rhysand wears a mask," you said. "Everyone think him cruel. But he isn't. I think it's the same with you."

"Why would you possibly think that?"

"You invited me here tonight," you shrugged. "You've been a prick, but never cruel to me. You respect my boundaries in bed. You treat your mother well. You didn't turn me in when you found me spying in your court."

"We made a bargain," he reminded you.

"Even without the bargain, looking back, I doubt you would've turned me in," you mused. "I didn't know it back then, but now . . . "

"You think you know me now," he scoffed.

"Yes, I do," you confirmed. "Don't think this means anything. I still despise you, Vanserra."

"I would be concerned if you didn't," he stated, dipping you.

This time, no bond snapped as you stared up in his eyes. But that bond in your chest sang.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @a-court-of-mischief-and-madness @sourapplex @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @i-know-i-can @mp-littlebit @paintedbyshadows @kristijenner19 @kitsunetori @lorosette @bookwormysblog

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

»»————-　♔　————-««

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luvteyams · 11 months ago

Text

NATURE FEELS

Characters: Neteyam Sully (26) x Fem Omaticaya Reader (22)

Warnings: Smutttttt

Authors Note: Listen to Frank Ocean- Nature Feels to get the vibe, I wrote with this song playing in the background at 2am

Synopsis: A wet dream keeps you up at night and Neteyam is always there to help you out

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The night was cool at this time, silence blanketing high camp as you laid within your bundle of blankets. Your tent was especially quiet as you laid awake in the dead of the night. The only accompanying sound being the harsh thump of your heart against your chest and the small stream that trickled down through the cracks of High Camp.

Many hours had passed since you bid him farewell, in need of a true bath and a coma like sleep. Your tired bones ached as you tossed and turned, your body burning in the same places he had kissed and caressed all day.

“My love…yawne…pls”, he begged as you pushed and pressed against him within the clearing of the flowering meadow.

The slick sweat from earlier today building once again as you touched yourself to the memory of him. Him all over you, at the bottom of your toes, at the center of the inside of your thighs, up towards your navel, and at the very tips of your slightly swollen breasts. His fingers pressing against your bud softly, contrasting the harsh feel of roots pressing into your back.

In the bright glow of day, the sun warm against both your skin, Neteyam had prodded, persuading you to leave High Camp for a bit of fun. His amber eyes pressing yours to look at him, his strong arms pulling you flush against him so he could whisper softly into your ear. The heat of his breath against your ear, “ you know, I’ve been meaning to fuck you in the garden”, he rasped. A small giggle filling the space between you both as you pictured him atop you in the place you first met.

Many moons ago you had found yourself kneeled within the growing foliage, plucking through the fragrant plants, many usable for the healing pastes the Tsahik had requested. That day too was a blistering heat that left you slick with sweat and against your better judgement had led you to the clearing with a deep pond. Your legs splashing against the water, cooling your skin being your only priority. You had missed the gasp leaving the future Olo’eyktan’s lips, his large bow in hand as he caught fish for the day. He was quiet, a silent presence that had gone unnoticed until you rolled yourself over onto your stomach. His large body coming into view as you pressed yourself further into the grass.

Eyes wide, you could feel your bones jolt, startling your heart as you took in his taller form. He was now a bit closer, and you jolted up standing in front of him.

“I-i’m so sorry Neteyam”, a formal greeting stumbling from your hands as you rushed to leave. He was quick to grasp your wrist pulling you back into the clearing. His gentle hand was warm against your own now, pulling you to the spot he had been fishing.

“Would you maybe want to help me catch some fish?”, his confident voice sounded out into the clearing, his smile bright as he persuaded you. He was sweet in all forms and had captured your beating heart, taking it for his own. And well you had unknowingly always had his, him only waiting for the perfect moment to position and take aim.

That day had now been a distant memory until his sweet lips pressed against your own and so you obliged because fun with Neteyam almost always meant tired limbs, swollen lips, slick skin, and euphoria in the Garden.

You sighed, your fingers now rough against your bud, pressing to get yourself close to where he had you much faster. The soft covers, caressing every part of your exposed skin, your sleep mat scratching against your toes. Long sighs slip past your lips, quiet but deliberate as you worked yourself up.

Your accumulating slick was a pungent smell in the air as it trickled down, begging you to touch your most intimate place and you did, slipping two fingers between the soft folds and pumping into yourself at a desperately slow pace.

Neteyam made a habit of teasing you and although you lacked patience in most things in life, he was something you could wait for. He always took care of you, whispering sweet nothings as you begged and pleaded, and then mercilessly giving you exactly what you wanted as you keeled over into oblivion.

You knew you could hold out much longer with just your own touch and so your other hand began to rub and pinch against your bud in tandem with the now steady pump of your fingers.

Your desperate sighs had become deliberate moans that slipped past your lips before you could hold them and you could faintly hear his voice, “you sound so beautiful ma yawne. My sweet girl, we’re almost there”, he’d muttered and you called out to him in the silence of your tent as you did out in the ample space of the Garden.

His name being the only words that you could form through your hoarse throat.

You were so very close, your body pleading with your hands to be his, he would have you there by now, spasming against his body as your third orgasm was pulled from you, your measly fingers now not being enough to push you over the edge, even once.

As your fingers worked faster, quite harshly against your walls, so close to that spongy dip, shuttering breaths pushing past your lips, your voice softly began to beg and plead for Neteyam.

He was much farther away, across High Camp, in his family tent that sat almost at the heart of the cavern, right next to the healing hut for the Tsahik. Your tent being on the outskirts, hidden from view for most and only visible to the ikrans that fly past.

In due time you both planned to move him into the tent, weaving together new space to forge the home you’d share until you both parted to Eywa, except your time had recently been spent catching up on teachings in the healing hut, and Neteyam taking on the overflowing needs of The People.

He gave himself entirely to The People when he was in their presence, but he always gave his everything and more when he was just with you.

You could smell him now, his lingering scent of sunkissed grass and tree bark waft from his blanket pushed far off to the side of the hut. Your now sporadic body edging over to any sense of comfort, and as your long limbs began to spread apart, uncoiling, desperately looking for a new angle, you could still feel the way his hands gripped roughly against your hips, crescent moons sinking deep into your skin, forever claiming your body as his.

Your body had bounced , slamming down back into his hips, melodic slaps snapping through the songs of nature nearby. His body jolting up into yours as you both chased each others high. His groans sounded out, against your ear as he pressed you fully against his chest.

“I need you… more, please..just a little more”, you gasped pressing your swollen lips against his, pulling his bottom lip until it snapped back into place.

That set his pace to a harsh pound, barreling up into your burning hips as a sore ache began to form on the underside of your thighs. Your body sobbed as you both reached your peak together, crying out to each other for more.

The shade of the cherry tree above you cooled your heated skin as your palpitating heart synced to a slow rhythm with his. The soft grass below danced across your toes as the cool breeze whisked through the bright garden.

His heavy breathes above you steadied and you could feel his strong arms tighten, pulling you flush against him.

“How did that feel my love”, he’d whispered, your sensitive ears flicking against the warm gusts of air.

You all but whined back, the scratchy part of your throat refusing to cooperate as you tried to respond. Always a bit whiny after cumming, you couldn’t help but sag into his strong arms, head tucked between his moist neck and purple bruised collarbone.

A sly smile appearing as you began to skim your lips against the protruding bone, spontaneous kisses and slight sucks, causing the purple bruises to double in size.

Soft moans glided from his lips, his callused hands gliding down your back, a harsh grip onto your ass as the other made its way to your front for another round of fun.

That sudden burn that coiled like a tightly wound bow had come again. The ache of your fingers spurring you on, faster, deeper, until you were spasming harshly, arched back high in the air as you pushed your body over the edge. You were delirious now, stuttering moans slipping unceremoniously from your lips as your fingers twitched, pushing against your walls.

Your bleary unfocused eyes, crossed as you peaked, your head lolling over to face the door of your hut as the flap slid open. A cold gust of air had pushed past the incoming figure and it further stimulated your soaked core and peaked nipples.

Your sharp gasps pierced the now deep silence, your chest rising and falling harshly as you aimed to catch your breath.

His deep voice reached your dazed ears a moment later causing a soft whine to seep from your pursed lips “my sweet sweet girl, you didn’t get enough today”. His sharp canines peeked from his smiling lips and his body naturally bowed into a crouch as if he was stalking his prey.

Large hands began to trace your legs, a mind numbingly slow pace that made them shake harshly against his light touch. He was so close to your core, grasping onto your thighs with a vice grip, pulling your eyes to meet his eyes.

Amber eyes piercing your own as you began to beg. Another desperate whine “Ma teyam pls, I-i need it, I n-need you-u”, soft whimpers slipping from your lips as you clawed at your now damp hair.

You could barely focus in on your surroundings, hands twisting against the bunched covers beneath you. He was hovering over your entire body, slotting your legs up against the top of his thighs, folding you in half.

“I know babygirl…” he muttered softly against your fluttering ears. You could feel your tail wrap tightly around his thigh, holding him in place against your slick skin.

Soft nips of his canines dug harshly into your neck and you moaned at the sensual sting that persisted after as he kissed down, nipping against your chest.

“I won’t make you wait long, love. I’ll give you what you need, but first… “ he whispered against your lips, devouring the very breath pressing to escape.

He was kissing down your chest, a soft suckle on one of your nipples before he was shifting down past your navel. Soft, wet kisses, paired with dark purple bruises from earlier todays fun.

“just a little taste”, he whined, sniffing the strong air of your cunt right in front of him. Animalistic grunts sounded out into the air as he took your supple form in.

Your long body glowed pink in the dark night , warm to the touch and a slight sheen from your sweat and the accumulating slick of your arousal.

He was slow, teasing you once again as feather light kisses pressed against your light pink folds. The urge to shift your legs, holding him against your core had you slowly casing his freshly braided hair in. But he was strong, his grip tightening against your wet thighs, pushing you wide open for him to admire.

“Be patient yawne , I got you”, he mumbled, resuming his soft exploration of kisses against your folds, your pulsing bud, and your desperate hole that twitched with need.

“Fingers, Ma teyam!! I need you…NOW”, you sobbed, your hoarse voice clashing against the nights silence. You needed him desperately, your aching hips twitching against his flat tongue licks.

He was entranced now, pleasing you with his tongue, setting a teasing pace against your sweet spot. You could feel the burn of his bright eyes watching you. Your supple breasts rising with shaky breaths, pebbled nipples hard as he pinched and rubbed against them.

He felt everywhere, hot against your skin, burning within your core. Sticky fingers now lovingly pressing against your overstimulated bud.

You were wrecked, a jumbled mind that desperately wanted release, but was already far too gone over the cliff to handle the euphoria.

Teetering off the new edge, Neteyam was making love to your core, slurping up your cum as you shook harshly against his form. Your incessant sobs barreled out of you at the same pace his long fingers pumped against your gummy walls.

Neteyam couldn’t focus, your plea for him to stop pushing him to give more. He couldn’t stop, he wanted you to whine for him, weakly run away as you did within the garden. He needed you to be drunk off him and only him.

“you’re gonna look so pretty with my cum leaking from you”, he rasped. Forcing himself from your core, his hot breaths dancing against your center, causing you to whine from the overstimulating pleasure again.

You were pudding in his hands, molding yourself to the floor as he flipped you over to your front. This was your favorite position to have him, second only to facing him, chest to chest as he moaned loving phrases into your lips, neck, and chest.

Your pliable form moved wherever he desired, your plump ass being pushed into the air, spreading yourself for him to see in the seemingly bright glow of the moon.

You could feel his warmth leave you, a tiny whimper escaping as you inch your body back to contact. He could only admire your gorgeous form so open for him. Your glossed eyes watched him, shaking your ass in a sensual sway, calling him back to you.

“your gorgeous, yawne”, “I can’t wait to have you, fully”, “ oh eywa I need you “, he was delirious now, mumbling into your scattered braids all his inner thoughts. He couldn’t wait till you were his. In every form that nature intended, that Eywa would bless, so he could have a direct stream to your thoughts and you to his. He could give you everything, his babies, him, naturally.

You could feel him, large and warm, pressed roughly against your core. Gliding between your folds as you moaned, gripping harshly for the scattered remains of your disheveled bedding. Pressing your bruised chest into your rough sleep mat for grounding.

“Nete- ahh baby”, you gasped as you felt him push slowly.

Your body tossed, restless as he wrestled against your tight walls, pulsing against his own urgent need to be deep within you.

Delirious pleasure hit when he began to thrust roughly against your body, jerking you harshly against the ground as he had against the cherry tree in the garden.

He couldn’t wait, the powerful need to give in to your eyes silent pleas to give you his cum, over and over again.

“this feels like our first time all over again” you gasped. Within that same garden, he had been soft at first, a little lost in the act, nervous even. But eager to please and a quick leaner. He had become desperate to get you to cum and by the end of it, your were drunk off him, his mouth, his dick, everything.

His breath was stifling as he hid within your neck, his freshly done braids tangling within your own.

“ooooo over. and. over. again”, he moaned into you. He couldn’t believe that he had you. He had you whenever he needed you, and whenever you sauntered over to him, naturally claiming him for the taking, you’d have him.

He was barreling over the edge now, your head craned back as you pressed back into his hard chest. Your tightly wound body working in tandem with his tempo, milking his coming climax to the very edge of his breaking point.

Your begging sounded out between harsh gasps “ Nete- tey…ah….ahh…oouu ”, your voice drifted, succumbing to your own pleasure first.

His abdomen tightened, hips deliriously pumping into you as you reached back stroking the base of his kuru. Whimpers floating out his lips, and into your skin as you squeezed against him. His heaven was cracking as the familiar coil wound to its breaking point. The collapse causing his rhythm to stutter and spasm recklessly in you, his body weight pressing heavily against your own heated form.

Coming down from both your highs, you could feel his harsh breaths beating against your shoulder. His hard body pressing further into you as he slumped over on top of you.

And as usual he was the first to speak.

“Tell me h-how my nature feels.”

Authors Note: I really hope you enjoyed this, I finished this Drabble first and was so excited to post it but didn’t want smut to be my first story post. Hopefully it’s not to confusing that she floats in and out of the present. Overall I really enjoyed writing it and hope you all like it too. Let me know😉

#neteyam smut #neteyam sully #avatar series #Neteyam #avatar smut #neteyam x omaticaya reader #navi x reader #navi smut #neteyam x fem reader #navi avatar smut

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msbarrybeeson · 5 months ago

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Princess and Her Matra | Cyno X (F) Reader (Part I) (Royal AU)

Story Premise: You were the Princess of Setekh, ruling over a flourishing kingdom among dry deserts alongside your Father. You found yourself stuck in a dilemma when you were forced to give your hand in marriage, in return for the Avidyan Prince of the Forests to rescue your kingdom. Your heart was set solely on your bodyguard, Cyno the General Mahamatra. But suspicion arose around the Prince's motives, perhaps you found a way to your true love after all.

Summary: You and your General Mahamatra slipped into the Royal Garden following a discussion upon your arranged marriage.

Relationship: (Bodyguard) Cyno X (Desert Princess) Female Reader

Characters: General Mahamatra Cyno.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1220

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five

➵ ➵ ➵

The King spoke to his council. All while you observed, the only thing you could really do.

In the throne room were two towering seats, decked in gold and colorful gems. At least one of them were. The smaller one, occupied by you, was more plain.

All of the King's messengers stood in front of the steps, organized like as if there was an elongated table.

"My King," bowed one man, "I for one believe not in entrusting Princess (Name) to the Prince of Avidya. They do not trust us, evident by closing off flowing streams from their forests. They mean to dry us until we die of thirst! How can we trust them to not forsaken the Setekh?"

The old King combed through his beard. A long sigh escaped his lips. "I do not. But I cannot allow my people to suffer from dehydration any longer. The only natural source is the spring that resides in the center."

You winced, hearing the discussion. You never liked grave topics. Your eyes shifted to a guard standing on the side by the sandstone pillars.

His amber hues lit up upon eye-contact, only a little but it was there. You gave him an exasperated smile, leaning your head on your hand. He simply huffed, the corners of his own lips twitching up.

"My King, with all due respect, does it not appear suspicious? What would the Avidyan Prince truly want from this arrangement? Surely, 'a wife for the Prince' is too simple and illogical of a reason for them to suddenly want to repair relations after years of distrust."

"I heard you." The King only raised his palm to stop. "But my decision is final: my daughter will be married to this Prince in two weeks' time. If the case of betrayal ever arrived, I trust my General and the Matra will handle our guests swiftly." The old King sent a nod.

Cyno blinked away from your eyes to return one to your Father.

"Hold on–." You furrowed your brows.

"(Name)." The King's voice became stern. "I understand your reservations, my child. However, I expect you to–."

"Place the Setekh above myself, I am well aware." Your shoulders dropped while curling up your fists. "I cannot believe this," you scoffed. You found yourself tapping harshly on your throne's armrest. "I shall be in the Royal Garden instead, Father."

The King's eyes saddened and sighed. You quickly stood and stormed right out of the throne room. The council, distracted by plans for the upcoming engagement, did not notice your hasty disappearance.

Of course, there had been one man.

The General Mahamatra trailed you from behind, holding a partisan. He wore a Hermanubis headdress, a shape of a jackal, signifying his high ranking and head of the Setekhan Military's Royal Branch, the Matra. His face adorn in red powder marks, while his uniform dressed in black and gold. A lot of his skin, he left bare, for the desert heat never took kindly to those covered.

"Leave me alone, General."

The young man raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I cannot do that, Your Highness."

"I need time to myself, General."

No word.

"That is an order from your Princess," you scowled, pausing in your tracks to face the General Mahamatra.

"My King's one order is to guard you at any time. I'm afraid his word overshadows yours, Your Highness."

You only frowned and turned away to continue striding.

Suddenly, a polearm swung in front of you, halting you.

"You were feet away just moments ago."

"I wouldn't have been your bodyguard if I am not quick on my 'feet.'" He smirked. You tried to hold a deadpanned expression, but your lips cracked into a small smile the longer your eyes held contact. You waved him off. "Sometimes I do not know what to do with you."

You gazed down and frowned again. "Of course, even if I do, you would not listen to me while Father is here, would you." You pushed Cyno's partisan aside, making his playfulness falter. "Hold on–." He sighed. "I don't truly mean that, Your Highness." He jogged up to stay beside you. "Your word is my command. I always intend myself to protect you, regardless of the circumstances."

"Mm."

"You're aware I would never betray you, honest."

"Mm."

"Not for my King himself."

"Mm."

Cyno sulked, nearly lagging behind you.

It felt uncharacteristic of the Mahamatra, but you remembered the kind of person he became when a card game showed up here and there. An entire other person, you thought. Truth be told: you gave into his– you admit– endearing behavior. "Enough of that, my General." Your hand traced along his jaw as you hastened your stroll past. "Hurry along."

A glint gleamed in his eyes. You did not glance back at him, yet you already regretted that.

"What's the matter? Is a 'hurry-cane' arriving?"

"It's the Setekh. Hurricanes only appear in the Avidya."

"What?" Cyno huffed. "You don't understand? The joke is–."

"Shush-shush-shush." Your finger landed on his lips before he could continue. "I assure you time and time again, General: jokes are only clever when you leave the explanations out."

You and the General reached the greenhouse, a wide glass dome inhabited by many desert plants and color-popping flowers. A few butterflies in golden-like wings flew by. You smiled upon the sight, taking in how the light hit each plant just right.

You sighed. "I only wonder what will become of this place once I marry." The thoughts ran in your head. For all you could imagine, you may move to the Avidya, making this your final chance of seeing desert wildlife. Or the Avidya could be plotting the downfall of the Setekh with your marriage, leaving the beauties alone to die.

Your eyes caught a withered goldpoppy, brown and shriveled. You stepped forth, hands gently caressing its petals. A faint glow could be seen before the flower returned to its youth.

"General," you called. Immediately, he stood by your side. He tried to meet your eyes, but you only paid attention to the poppy. "Would you.. still protect me, even when I'm married off into another kingdom?"

He gave it a second, glancing from the poppy to your face. "Cyno," he spoke in a gentler tone. Much different from his serious usual.

Your eyes flickered to his, being caught off guard.

"I told you to call me 'Cyno,' Your Highness." He gathered your hands and lifted them to his lips, placing a kiss. "In the same way as how I assured you of my intentions to protect you, no matter what."

You blinked.

In the silent moments that passed, a rosy blush crept his face. The General Mahamatra himself turned away in embarrassment, clearing up his throat.

Your eyes softened.

"Thank you, Cyno." In contrast, you reacted with a sheepish smile. "With the wedding arriving in two weeks, I doubt my Father would be happy to hear or see this, but perhaps behind closed doors," your voice trailed off.

He creased his brows. "'See–?'"

On your toes, you pulled Cyno's head and crashed your lips into his. His eyes widened in shock. For someone as stoic and straight-faced as him, someone who was an intimidating general, the General Mahamatra had an easy time becoming awfully flustered.

"You can also call me, (Name)."

#reader insert #cyno x reader #cyno x y/n #genshin cyno #cyno #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #sumeru #fanficton #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin x reader

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razorblade180 · 4 months ago

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While I love Amber dearly as she is, I got curious - if you could upgrade or entirely change her kit to put her on a five-star level (or alternatively, as strong as she could be in the lore of how you view your Genshin playthrough, with all her training and seniority), how would you do it?

I feel like somewhere on this blog I’ve talked about a supportive Amber before but the second half of your question is thought provoking in a new way.

What sucks is in a lot of way, Lyney really took main mechanics of Amber.💀

For the sake of keeping her identity, the bow stays. I’m thinking unique enhanced charge shots that are the size of one of Tighnari’s burst arrows. What makes them special is not only would the size make it easier to hit enemies close together, but the arrow is piercing. We’ll call them Scouting Arrows

Rework her skill to be a better Baron Bunny that has a stronger taunt and doesn’t get flung away to create more opportunities to hit multiple enemies. By either using the skill or hitting more than one enemy with a single arrow, the time to charge the next arrow essentially doesn’t exist at all; that way it creates a sharpshooter style of combat I think an Outrider would be an expert at.

Her burst would be a reference to the WEBTOON and let’s call it Flaming Vanguard; she’d create a pyro shield and lose her enhanced charges, but gain an infusion on her normal attack arrows for a short time that are weaker than charge shots obviously but stronger than normal arrows. Her skill would also temporarily changes to a scatter shot of flaming rocks in front of her. (I’m never getting over that)

When the burst state ends, if the shield wasn’t already destroyed, it will vanish and Amber gains a single free enhanced shot with a multiplier that’s higher than her other enhanced shots called Outrider’s Arrow; her cooldown on her next Barron Bunny is also reduced. Cause, y’know…

She can keep her gliding passive. As for her second passive, considering Ganyu exists, I think it would reasonable for Amber to gain a crit dmg bonus whenever facing multiple enemies, but gain a crit rate buff instead when there’s only one. That somewhat helps compensate for the fact in boss fights she wouldn’t have the opportunity to sharpshoot as often since there’s only one enemy to hit.

So in essence, a mid to long range DPS with a core play style that shows her proficiency in archery as well as her job as Outrider; with an elemental burst that shows her personality by Amber being able to temporarily rush into the frontline when other party members need help.

I’m feeling silly right now so I suppose I’ll think of constellations.

C1 Team Player- When Flaming Vanguard state ends, the rest of the party gains an atk buff based on total atk

C2 Double Trouble- Two charges of Barron Bunny and Scatter Shot! (I know she has that in game, and honestly it’s too good to not have that in this hypothetical)

C3 Outrider, the One and Only- Normal attack talent increase

C4 Survival Expert- Scatter Shot and normal attacks performed in Flaming Vanguard independently grant a certain amount of pyro damage bonus up to a certain amount. The bonus ends after firing an Outrider Arrow.

C5 Favonious Hardwork- Talent level on burst increases. (This would effect shield absorption and Outrider Arrow conversion multiplier since it’s already getting the benefit of increased dmg from leveling charge attacks)

C6 A Granddaughter’s Oath- Shooting a Barron Bunny will now automatically detonates it. Deploying a Barron Bunny instantly gains one Outrider Arrow. Upon detonation, gain another Outrider Arrow.

Unintentionally this kit has not only made Mondstadt’s god of wind one of her best teammates in mob situations, but her and Collei would do well in a burning team alongside characters like, Sucrose, Emilie, and even reverse melt Kaeya. Not my intention in the slightest but hey, that works out pretty well in a satisfying way.

By the way can you tell that after nearly four years Amber is still easily one of my favorite characters?

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #gi amber #ask me stuff

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missmoonfrost · 9 months ago

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Extra number - a wolfstar AU

I tried to write a microfic for today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt performer AU - it ended up over 1300 words = not a microfic at all. Enjoy!

Sirius was getting ready to head for makeup when the director came in.

"Paul's ill. Thankfully we've got a backup for his part. There's no time for you to repeat the whole thing together, I'm afraid. I hope it won't be too much of a problem."

Well, Sirius wasn't happy about it. But he was a professional, he'd make it work.

"He'll be here any minute so you can at least go over the duet and -"

The door opened again.

"Ah! Here he is. I believe you've worked with Mr Lupin before?"

Oh. Him. Mr prim and proper, all facade. Mr "I'll shagg you in the bathroom, then not even walk too close if there's the slightest chance of a camera". He had thought he had left those heart-wrecking months hoping there would ever be something more behind him in New York.

"Yeah, we've met", he admitted wryly.

Remus gave him a crooked smile. Sirius reluctantly shook his outstretched hand. His big, warm, and pleasantly steady hand. Met his inviting amber eyes and broadening smile. Nope. He was never falling for that again.

They really had a very short time to repeat. And Remus called them done early, wanting plenty of time in makeup.

"Are you really that worried about your looks?" Sirius mocked even though he'd seen the scars before. He knew Remus always wore long sleeves and high collars when they weren't covered up neatly. Of course, it took ages.

"If you don't care about your appearance, why the piercings? Why the hairstyling?" he replied calmly.

"Different thing. Different reason."

"What do you know about my reasons?"

"I’m well aware of how desperate you are to not let anyone see the slightest crack in your perfect facade."

Sirius left before he could reply. They could not get into an argument now. He had to stay focused.

When Sirius went on stage the thoughts of Remus were stored away where they didn't hinder him from opening the show as big and bold as always.

The second part was mostly Remus'. He did it well with only a few mistakes that the audience hardly noticed, despite his minimal time to prepare. He was nothing if not a good performer. On and off stage, that was.

For the third part, they worked together. Remus was taller than Paul, and Sirius had to take slightly longer steps to keep up, but it was alarmingly easy to fall into the same rhythm. Sirius remained focused, remained in character. It worked until the duet. Remus' eyes had him losing his stage persona and craving him for himself.

He might regret it later, but he was a professional and the audience deserved that he did his best. To deliver feeling you needed to feel. So, he looked into Remus' playful eyes again and let himself yearn. The passion in his voice came effortlessly.

They locked hands and bowed to the applause, as expected. They walked out, still hand in hand, and Remus' thumb brushed his knuckles. They hugged behind the curtain, as colleagues might. The sudden closeness so soon after the adrenalin still broke Sirius' resolve. His breath stuck in his throat as he breathed in the familiar scent. He needed him closer. His hands moved up his back under his shirt. His lips hungrily pressed against his. Until they disappeared, Remus quickly pulled back, leaving Sirius struggling to reorient himself. Right, they were still backstage.

"That was amazing!" The director handed them each a glass of champagne.

"Maybe we should team up again?" Remus said looking directly at him with a wanting expression that sent shivers down Sirius' spine. His body betrayed him again. He knew he had fallen too easily.

"Are you sure that would fit your image?" he asked icily.

The look of hurt in Remus' eyes shouldn't make his heart ache. It should be just what that bastard deserved.

"As if you don't have an image?!" Remus put the glass back in the confused director’s hands and took a step forward. "Wild and crazy. On the front page with a new conquest every week", he mocked.

"If people wanna interpret a kiss on the cheek as me having slept with someone that’s on them." The director hastily excused himself and Sirius dared to add "At least I'm open with my sexuality."

Remus pursed his lips furiously.

"What? Are you jealous?"

"Is that so hard to imagine? I thought we had something special."

"So did I, until you didn't want to be seen with me in daylight!"

Remus looked at the floor. When no replay came, Sirius quickly gathered his things and stormed out. He spent a very lonely night at the hotel room, and the next day ignoring phone calls and texts from both Remus ("I just want to talk" - bullshit) and the director (he would be working with Mr Lupin this evening as well, a thousand apologies).

That evening he met a very quiet and subdued Remus in makeup. When the girl asked to start on his arms, he refused.

Sirius looked up "What are you doing?"

"Apparently being open is very important to you."

The pain in his voice made Sirius' heart ache again. "I don't want to bully you into doing anything. Just don't think you can use me as... just don’t use me."

Remus smiled meekly and tried to sound reassuring "I know. This is for the best."

Despite everything, Sirius melted. It was true that he didn't know Remus' reasons for keeping his scars hidden, but he recognised fear when he saw it. He pressed Remus' hand. "Look, don't do anything rushed. Don't do anything you don't want to do."

"I've had plenty of time to think. After New York... I really missed you. And I've realised that for things to work out, I need to do this."

Five minutes before the start, he borrowed a microphone.

"Good evening, everyone. The show is about to start. But first: story time!"

"Those of you sitting close can see that I have scars on my arms and neck. They are 15 years old. You've never seen them, because I've always covered them up. But not anymore. Today I want to tell you what happened."

"Once upon a time, when I was a young aspiring singer, I met a bloke in a bar. We caught a liking for each other and headed home together. Holding hands. Kissing. We ran into a gang that..." he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands for a second, "didn’t share our view of love. I woke up in the hospital."

Sirius held his breath.

"My friend didn't wake up at all."

The audience was dead silent.

"Respecting everyone is the most important message I could give you. But what I really wanted to talk about today is meeting your fears. You see, the problem with being gay and not letting anyone know is you get very limited. There's a lot of things you can’t do. Like asking your crush out, for one thing."

He stage whispered to the audience: "Guess who my new crush is?"

The crowd murmured excitedly.

"The very handsome, very talented Sirius Black."

The audience cheered and whistled.

Remus stage whispered again: "Do you think he'll say yes if I ask for a kiss?"

The audience cheered again. He was an excellent performer. But Sirius caught the tremble in his voice.

The director pushed Sirius on stage. He slowly walked up to Remus, meeting wide honest eyes.

"I had no idea" he whispered apologetically.

"How could you? I never told anyone." Remus' fingertips gingerly brushed his cheek. He reached forward, raised on his tiptoes, and smiled as their lips pressed together. Soft, lovingly, unrushed.

The audience went crazy.

That show Sirius made a few embarrassingly basic mistakes. But the audience probably forgave him, they got an extra number at the beginning after all.

More importantly, he and Remus left holding hands and didn't let go of each other until Sirius pushed him down on his hotel bed.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius × remus #wolfstar performer au

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archonadeptus · 2 years ago

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Hi ^^ ok so I got a spark of inspo and I want to get this out before I forget, Genshin x Creator! Y/n (GN) angst thing. Idea is that Creator y/n has a nightmare where their body is almost not their own and they're forced to watch themself kill all of their beloveds, then go to pov the Genshin characters and they have to watch y/n thrashing around saying little "no.."'s and "stop.."s while the Genshin characters are trying to wake them up and stop their suffering, :insert something with ur incredible imagination:, and then they finally wake up with a gasp and tears falling down their face and they hug the nearest character (say like Tighnari or someone else you choose ❤️) and then they just sob their heart out saying "I'm sorry...." Over and over again until they get comforted, then they tell the Genshin characters (I'm leaving the character choosing to you) what the nightmare was abt and then at the end they breakout crying all over again, then one big group hug later y/n is happy (but still very sorry and regretful) and it goes to fluff cuz I can't handle having my heart shattered, with y/n being a bit more clingy. The end. And ofc you don't have to do this req but it was an idea that I got just after reading one on your other fics, anywho have a good day/night/whatever the heck and take care of yourself, imma go cry bc this idea already shattered my heart thinking abt it. 🙂

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I appreciate it so much~♡ I absolutely love this idea, I love Angst and comfort so much!! I truly hope that this is everything you were looking for. I hope I shatter all of your hearts and mend them again at the end with all of the fluff! Enjoy, lovelies.♡

Edit A/N: I got a little excited and carried away I'm so sorry it's so long omg.

Characters: Tighnari, Kazuha, Wanderer, Xiao, Zhongli

Warnings: A lot of Angst within the first section. Main character deaths (in the form of a dream), upsetting scenes, mention of a character ending their own life. A lot of comfort at the end!~ (The Angst is just a dream!)

Control.

Sitting upon your throne carefully crafted by only the most glorious chunks of cor lapis and most vibrant of flowers always felt a little too much for you. Yes, you had embraced being the creator long ago, but it still felt a little too much. The way everybody would bow to you, some even looking a little afraid. Why in Teyvat would any of your own creations fear you? Then again, why were you even in your throne room to begin with? This was reserved for occasions where your beloved acolytes had assured you that your presence specifically on the throne was important, you just had to address Teyvat from your rightful place. As far as you knew, there were no emergencies that needed tending to and nobody had told you to come here.

"Tell me, what makes you think I adore you all?" Who said that? Wait, that's your voice echoing off the marble walls. Why… Why do you sound so angry? Why is your voice void of any love? Silence fell upon the room, the pressure of the air seeming to thicken. "I do require a reply, that was in no way rhetorical." Your eyes narrowed, deep golden eyes glaring down at five of your acolytes beneath you, bowing lowly on the floor. You weren't controlling your own voice, nor were you controlling your own body. Why is this happening? They all look so afraid.

"M-my divine." Zhongli spoke first, daring to lift his amber hues to meet your own. "You created us. Everything is made with nothing but your own hands and abilities. Do you not love what you have created?-"

"Shut it, Morax." Your voice was so heavy in the air, the floors lightly rumbling with an ever-growing rage. "I did not ask for a rant, just a simple reply. And did I hear you questioning me?" You stood rather abruptly, Zhonglis eyes meeting the floor once again. You summoned a weapon made of nothing but pure golden swirls, you placed the tip beneath Zhonglis chin and lifted his gaze upward to meet yours again. "I simply detest you. My most loyal acolyte? What a lie." Kazuha seemed to slowly lift his gentle tear filled gaze up, his soft doe eyes meeting your own.

"B-beloved, he didn't mean it in the way you think. We truly adore you… But please…" The sword you now wielded left Zhongli causing his gaze to move away to the floor again, it now lifted up Kazuha's gaze to meet your own.

"Beloved?" You spat out, glaring down at him. "And you too dare to question my judgement?" He slowly shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly to try and will away his pretty tears threatening to spill down his dusted cheeks.

"I-im sorry, your grace." A smirk painted itself on your lips before you knelt down a little before him.

"Let me tell you a little secret, my dearest wandering samurai. You know your beloved Tomo?" His eyes immediately filled with love and pain at the mention of the fallens name. "I had so much fun controlling his fate, you know. His obsession with the Musou no Hitotachi was such a good plan. Do you know why I led your beloved to death?" He was trying to muffle his own sobs with his hands pressed against his mouth. You… You led Tomo to death? "Because I grew bored of him. I didn't want to play with him anymore. But my goodness, seeing you watch him die certainly was a treat. I mean, look at what it did for your character development!" Why were you telling lies? This wasn't you, why can't you stop yourself? "Do you want to know what he was saying before your arrival? He was begging me to spare him for longer, just so he could say goodbye to you. To ensure you were okay." You scoffed at this, "He didn't trust that you were safe with me." Kazuhas sobs now escaped his lips as his broken stare met your own. "Ah, but maybe he was correct. I'm bored of you too, Kaedehara Kazuha. Tell me now, how badly do you wish to see him again?"

"N-no please… T-this isn't you. S-stop, I beg of you, I'll do anything." Rolling your eyes you stood,

"Your begging no longer amuses me, Kazuha. Do you desire to see what Tomo saw upon his death? Let me show you…" Before he could even cry out his love for you and his apologies, you preformed the divine punishment upon him. Though this time, it was all golden. His body lay before you, your other acolytes whimpering at the sight.

"Now, Xiao my darling." He seemed the calmest of them all, his eternal suffering allowing him to mask his emotions easily. That now though was boring to you, you wanted to see him break. "You're nothing but loyal to me, right?" Your hand gently cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing against his skin in soothing circles. He nodded eagerly, eyes on your own.

"Yes, your grace."

"Would you do anything I ask of you, beloved?" Once again, another gentle nod as his faze softened at your touch.

"Yes, your grace."

"Good boy." With a smile, you gave him his Jade Spear again, standing with him. "Kill Morax."

"Y-your grace?" Zhonglis head snapped up at your words before gazing at Xiao with the Jade spear he once gifted him.

"You heard me, darling. Kill him, he's a traitor. Did you hear how he questioned me? Did you hear his lack of faith?" Xiao's hands gripped harder onto the spear before his eyes met Zhonglis again.

"Child, you must." He sighed, lowering his head. "It is what our creator desires. I deserve this punishment…" Xiao raised the spear as you smiled brightly, stepping back.

"Any last words, Rex Lapis?" Zhongli knelt on his knees, gazing up at Xiao.

"It was an honour to fight beside you, to raise you, and die by your hands my Adeptus. You are my strongest warrior, and you shall always shine like gold within my memories. Even during death." Xiao shook, eyes finally filling with tears. Did he… have to do this? Did he have to kill him… n-no. There must be another way for him. Immediately he lowered his spear and fell down to the ground before your throne once you sat back upon it.

"Your grace, please. Spare him, let me die in his place"

"Oh how boring. I would have thought you'd at least inflicted some damage. Not even offering Tighnari over there as a substitute? Or Wanderer? No?" Rolling your eyes you hummed. "Very well. Put on a show for me." Xiao simply nodded, Zhongli however stood and began to rush over to Xiao.

"No!" Golden chains soon shoved him to the ground. "You cannot make him do this! This is unjust, your grace." His eyes shone as he struggled against the ever strengthening chains.

"Unjust?" You smirked, "I see now that I sit before Rex Lapis and not Zhongli. Only the God of contracts would have the will of stone to dare question his creator." He growled lowly, golden markings forming upon his skin.

"Do not lay a hand upon him." You giggled, throwing your head back in glee against your throne.

"Me? Lay a hand upon him? No, no. I think you'll find yourself quite mistaken there, Morax. For he shall kill himself." Without another word needed from you, Xiao did just as you had said. He laid there before your throne, body weak as he whined and reached for you within his final moments. At this, you simply smacked his hand away and sighed. Zhongli was screaming with rage at this point, nothing but agony filling his body. Wanderer and Tighnari simply sat there and watched it all.

"H-how could you kill off your own acolytes like this?"

"Ah look who's finally decided to join this wonderful discussion of ours~ If another word leaves your lips, I too shall end you Tighnari. I'm not interested in you right now…" Your golden eyes drifted over to wanderer. "I'm interested in him."

You knew Wanderer was panicking, all of the memories about being abandoned, tortured and broken replaying in his head. You were watching his memories and his thoughts, they made the real you scream in upset. Surely all of this wasn't happening right now?

"My dear Wanderer." His doe eyes gazed at you longingly. Ah, so this wasn't Wanderer. This was your beloved Kunikuzushi, before you got bored and put him through suffering so all of his love and loyalty would belong to you. "My darling Kuni… You love me, don't you?"

"Y-yes my divine." You smiled brightly, moving over to him and removing his hat to pat his head.

"Good boy. How will you prove your love to me, Kuni?" He scrunched his eyebrows in thought, it was almost beyond adorable.

"However you see fit. You have all of me, my Divine." You smiled brightly before humming again.

"Then perish just for me? Just like Xiao?" He simply nodded almost like he was in a trance.

"Yes, my divine."

No. No. No. No! No!

"NO MORE!" Your eyes snapped open as you threw yourself up into a sitting position, out of it and seeming to be in a half awake dream state. You were pushing whoever was around you away, whilst simultaneously trying to pull them closer.

"What's going on? Your grace, wake up now." Wanderer sighed whilst trying to hold you still to prevent you from hurting yourself in your panic.

"Hey, hey!" Was that Wanderer? "Calm it down love… Wake up." You began to scream, the dream still feeling so real. Tears rapidly rolled down your face as firm hands gripped onto your shoulders. "Hey! Fox boy! Get here now!" In any other circumstance, if you were fully awake, you would have giggled at Wanderers words. But not now, not when you killed them all. Not when you forced Tighnari and Zhongli to witness such brutal deaths.

"Seriously?! 'Wake up now?' That's all you could think of saying? I tried that already!" He growled lowly as he struggled to keep you calm, your cries and screaming tearing at what heart he wished he had.

"Our divine can hear our voices, that will keep them grounded onto something and saying 'wake up' just proves to them they're in a dream." Tighnari snapped lightly whilst fumbling in his bag before pulling out an orb filled with plants. "Hold them still!"

"What does it look like I'm trying to do? I'm not just sitting here for my own amusement." He spoke harshly to others, but his lips moved by your ear as he whispered. "Shh, I've got you. Everythings alright now, I'm here, I've got you. Love… Come back to me." At his gentle tone, your screams lessened into light whimpers. This prompted Tighnari to place the orb beneath your nose, and once the sharp smell of several herbs filled your senses your eyes snapped open.

"KAZUHA!" You panted, starting to cry again hiding within Wanderers arms. "X-xiao! Wanderer- What have I done?!" Tighnari immediately moved the orb away, tucking it back into his bag as he cupped your cheeks so you looked at him. Wanderer was a little taken aback at the possessive feeling within him especially after hearing you call his name like that. He'd never seen you look so helpless, almost like the way he once was when he was known as Kunikuzushi. Tighnari offered you the most reassuring smile he could,

"Hey there my Lotus, we've got you now. You're here darling, you're away from that place." Your whimpers shattered his heart, yet due to calling his name you didn't see Xiao rapidly approaching.

"Get away from them! What happened?" He moved to push them away to check to ensure you were alright, but Wanderer just shoved him away with his leg as he continued to hold you.

"Watch yourself little Adeptus, don't take what isn't yours." Xiao opened his mouth to say something more before Zhongli cut them off once walking into the room.

"Do not upset our Divine any further, your rage is distressing them." Xiao gazed at your tear stained face, but once your shaky hand reached up to his cheek curiosity filled his mind from your words.

"You're alive…"

"Yes, I am alive." He responded quickly, confused as to why you were asking. His debt didn't affect him whilst you were there, why would he be dead? Your head turned to see Wanderer holding you safely in his arms.

"Wanderer… My Kuni - you're alive too." Your eyes trailed around the room to try and find Kazuha. Where was he? Did you actually kill him whilst that horrible nightmare possessed your body? "Kazuha. Where is Kazuha?" You immediately stood up despite shaking, it felt like your body was still gaining its rightful strength after your dream. As you heard once in a previous life, all dreams pass a realm of reality. You tried to move forward, only for Xiao to hold you safely as you fell a little. Zhongli placed his hand upon your back,

"Tighnari, please go and get the samurai. I believe this is the only way we can calm them." Tighnari nodded before giving you one last look before leaving to quickly go and find Kazuha. He was always wandering your serenitea pot lands at this time, he wouldn't be too hard to track down. They soon moved you back down to sit upon the sofa again trying to keep your attention on them and not on the nightmare.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." Your tone was filled with nothing but heartbreak, your tears rolling down your flushed cheeks once again. "I'm sorry, please forgive me. Please don't hate me, I don't think I can bear it." Your soft sobs and begging flickered panic within your acolytes' hearts. Their own creator was begging them… This felt so wrong.

A bang from the main door made you jump whilst the others summoned their weapons to protect you, Wanderer standing in front of you to shield you with himself.

"Your grace!" The sound of Kazuha's voice made you sob out in relief as you pushed past to bring him into your arms, fist clinging onto Xiao's clothes as you held him.

"You're alive. You're both alive - you're okay." Taking a shaky breath in between your sobs you continued to cry out apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm so truly sorry." Falling to your knees, the wandering samurai and adeptus followed your lead and dropped to their knees with you to bring you into their warm embrace.

"My beloved divine, I am here now. I'm so sorry I'm late, dearest. I won't leave your side now okay?" You nodded against his warmth, hiccuping as after a while your sobs slowed.

"I killed you. I killed you Kazuha, fed you dreadful lies then killed you." Taking a jagged breath inward, your eyes met Xiaos. "You ended your own life due to my words in return for me sparing Morax. I- … I then went to kill Wanderer the same way as Xiao before waking. I forced Tighnari to watch all of it, I was so horrid I couldn't control my own body. Please, forgive me." A cup of cold water was soon brought to your lips by Tighnari as both anemo users held you closer. Softly sniffling, you began to drink slowly before coughing a little.

"Gentle, your grace. Do not rush…" Xiao gazed at you sorrowfully before looking downwards.

"No, you do not need to be forgiven. I do. If I was here, I would have destroyed the dream before it dared to even look upon you."

"Xiao," Zhongli began, his hand upon Xiao's head with a gentle smile. "Not now. This wasn't your fault, nor was it our divines. Bad dreams happen, I've seen my fair share during my lifetime. Many were brutal from the archon war." He sighed lightly, placing his hand carefully upon your cheek trying to comfort you. "But you see, dearest, they are a manifestation of our worst thoughts. Something that you would never do turns into something so real. We are all okay now, my divine, we're all here." His touch grounded you even more as he slowly lifted your now fragile form up and into his arms before getting you comfortable back on the sofa. Wanderer was sitting beside you, hand fiddling with the divine material of your clothing. Your gentle voice was but a whisper, but it made him practically melt.

"Please, hold me?" You didn't have to ask twice. You were immediately against his chest, safe and warm. A warm hand upon your back making soothing circles. Sure, you couldn't feel any heartbeat to ground you, but he was trying by channelling power through his vision to slowly bring it to life to mimic a heartbeat.

"Your grace, you can tuck your hands into my tail. You seem chilly… And don't worry, that was a case of a night terror and sleep paralysis. I've got little herbs to ensure that won't happen to you again." He paused, smiling as you held onto his tail. A light giggle escaped your lips as Xiao moved over to dry your tears. "We know we're safe with you, just like you know you're safe with us."

"What're you looking at, grandpa? They're safe with me, they don't need any extra. Move aside." Wanderer smirked before sticking his tongue out at Zhongli causing the archon to sigh. Though he buried his head against your neck as you held onto him hiding into his warmth with only a gentle whisper to be shared between you both. "I'm not going anywhere, yeah? I won't abandon you, and you won't abandon me. I've got you, I'll keep you safe." He pressed a gentle fleeting kiss to your shoulder before Tighnari took the place beside you, his tail soon brushing against your hand.

"Such a thing won't happen again." Xiao stated a matter of factly, crossing his arms against his chest. He'd be keeping a closer eye on your dreams now, so do not fret.

"And even if it did…" Kazuha's voice soon joined in, leaning over the sofa to fiddle with your strands of hair. Oh how you melted his heart, creator. "We will forever be here to pull you out of the world of dreams. They shall never hold onto you forever, but we shall do so."

"I agree with Kazuha, your grace. Forgive our selfishness, but you cannot get rid of us so easily. We shall forever be here with you and we won't ever lose you. As, my beloved, you shine like gold to us and us alone."

You're safe with them now, and believe me when I say you don't leave their arms for a long while. They never complain about this of course as this is all they want. You.♡

You have the control, your grace. Nothing like that will ever occur unless you desire so.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact creator #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #tighnari x reader #wanderer x reader #kazuha x reader #sagau #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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mtchee · 6 months ago

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An Honour to be in a Harem!? - [Genshin Impact SAGAU] | MDNI | GN AMAB 18+

blurb:

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, kind of a sequel?, amab bodied, you are dearly beloved and longed for <3, realistically if this happened i would rather die of a heart attack, lots of love and affection!!, mdni, spicy content, swearing, smut, overstim, manhandling, voyeurism, fingering, blowjob, sub [name], use of terms cock shaft penis tit, help i'm embarassed i wrote this omfg who am i, would u believe me if i said this is my first smut

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