#dear shameless writers

[fir3ylolol]

break up, make up

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: You and Johnny didn't end your relationship on a good note. You've successfully avoided him, but what happens when you both end up at the same bar??

word count: 2.46 k

tw: Vaginal sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, afab!reader, gn pronouns, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, forgiveness, make up sex, vaginal penetration, grinding, semi-public sex, begging, mentions of cheating, making out, no spoilers, he's so pussywhipped dude, praise kink, no other canon characters, smut, shameless smut, porn with plot

a/n: I've never really written fic b4 so I hope it's not shit. Slightly inspired by 3d-wifey, they are an actually good writer

Ao3

Johnny stared daggers at you from across the room. Why did he have to show up here? It had been a couple of months since you two split up and this was the first time you’d seen each other since. All you wanted was a nice night out with friends, which was already hard enough. But there he is, just 1000 feet away.

It hadn’t been easy. You had been with him for over a year and for the most part, it was fine. Despite his career and fame, he managed to find plenty of time for you. He loved to spoil you, spend time with you, and show his love wholeheartedly. That was until he had a long shoot overseas. He promised that everything would be fine and nothing would change. After 2 long months, he finally returned. But something felt off. He didn’t hold you like he used to, spent less time at home, and you didn’t see the love in his eyes anymore. A very dramatic breakup ensued, complete with tears and screaming from both of you. You moved out and quickly lost contact. Trying to cope as article after article about him returning to his ‘playboy lifestyle’ came out, you decided that he wasn’t worth your time, that he killed the relationship because he was bored of you. And so you tried your hardest, knowing that running into him again was unlikely. He’s too busy being famous, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Because there he was, same old Johnny, in a red button-up shirt with the arms rolled up and the top two buttons undone. Black slacks straining against his thighs, expensive watch glistening in the low light of the club. And, fuck, that look on his face. You couldn’t fully read it, and you weren’t sure if you were scared or interested.

Trying not to look at him, you brush off your clothes. You want to seem cool, calm, unbothered. Something you weren’t. But you weren’t turning around again to look. You just laugh with your friends and continue to enjoy your night. Until…

“Why, hello there dear,” his familiar voice rang out in your ears. You froze, the familiarity and warmth were something you hadn’t heard in a very long time. Slowly turning, you meet his eyes, trying, and failing, to hide your nerves. But when you meet his eyes, you can’t read anything. His words are cool, calm, and suave, but his eyes? Ice cold. It made you feel worse. You manage to utter a “Hello Johnny” as he stands there, his presence looming. Your friends look to you for guidance, but you nod, letting them know you’re fine. But they take that to mean, ‘you can leave now’, because they walk away, leaving you alone with him.

The exact opposite thing of what you wanted, honestly.

But it's too late for that. You take a deep breath and look directly at him, trying to seem brave. He leans against the table, looking around before sitting down across from you. “So, why are you out tonight? Trying to find another guy to disappoint?” His words cut deep, harsh accusations that offend you. “Excuse me?” you question, leaning towards him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act innocent, we both know you’re not,” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair and looking at the crowd. You scrunch your face up in frustration, feeling the anger bubble up inside you. “You know, you’re not exactly innocent either. You leave for 2 months, you don’t talk to me once, and when you’re finally back, you treat me like shit! I honestly preferred it when you were gone, at least then I didn’t feel like complete garbage.” You try not to cry, unable to stop your eyes from watering. Your words seem to soften Johnny slightly, as he looks back and seems more awkward than angry. “What do you mean? I didn’t do that.” “WHAT?” you nearly yell, surprising yourself and him. “You came back a different person! You weren’t the man I fell in love with anymore. You were cold and cruel, just like you are now.” You reach for your bag and move to stand up and leave, but he nearly dives across the table, grabbing your arm. “Wait, wait, please don’t go. I’m sorry. Please just…let me explain.”

You slowly sit back down, shrugging out of his grip, and stare at him, waiting. He finally seems nervous, scratching the back of his neck. “I won’t beat around the bush. I thought that while I was gone, you were cheating on me.” He looks away, clearly ashamed. “I don’t know why. I didn’t have proof. I just…I’m used to people leaving a lot sooner than you, so I assumed the worst. I didn’t think I acted that poorly, but I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’ll just leave you alone now.” His head hung slightly in shame, he started to stand.

But now it's your turn to stop him, gently taking his arm and making him sit down again. You both pause, waiting for the other to speak. Quietly, you begin to laugh, your whole body shaking. You manage to get out a muffled, “We’re so stupid.” He slowly starts laughing as well, both of you absorbing the absurdity of the situation. After a bit, you both calm down, managing to speak again. You learn that he’s been cast in a new show and that the rumors spreading around have been untrue. He learns about how you’ve been, your true interest in how you are shining through.

“Hey, you look really good, you know?” He gently takes your hand and stares into your eyes. All of a sudden, the mood shifts. Reconnecting with him has reconnected something else, something you didn’t quite expect. His words rest heavily in the air, trying to gauge how you’re feeling. You look into his eyes, the kindness and care he used to show you returning. “You look good too. Better than I remember, honestly.” He laughs, touching your arm more. “I always look this good baby.”

His eyes, now half-lidded and sultry, beckon you closer. You decide to be brave, take initiative. You get up from your seat, standing next to him. Still holding his hand, you pull him up. “Yeah? Wanna show me if everything else stayed the same?” You coax him up, getting closer to him. His smile grows wider, and he stands up and wraps his arms around your waist. “Gladly, baby.” You wave to your friends, who honestly can’t tell if it’s the right thing to let you go with him, but decide to let you. If it’s a mistake, at least you’ll learn from it.

He leads you to his car, a sleek black sports car parked in the virtually empty private parking lot out back. The perks of being famous apparently include better parking. He unlocks the door, letting you sit down first. He climbs into the driver’s seat, turning his body to look at you. “So, my place or yours-” Before he can finish that thought, you reach over, grabbing his face and kissing him gently. He is clearly shocked but quickly leans into it, growing more passionate by the minute. He turns and grabs your hips, trying to get you closer to him. You didn’t realize how completely touch-starved and needy you were until right then. You pull away and take a breath, panting lightly in sync with him. Your hand travels down his chest slowly, dancing towards his crotch. You feel his breath hitch under you, lightly whimpering at the feeling.

Lightly brushing against him and teasing him further, he starts to grow needier, pleading eyes looking directly at you. “Please…please love…” he whines out. You decide to be nice, but not that nice. Slowly unzipping his fly and freeing him, he hisses at the feeling of the cool air in the car. Gently taking him into your hand, you truly forgot how big he is. You lean over, spitting onto his dick and slowly stroking him. He starts to moan lightly, flinching as you flick your wrist over the tip. “Ah-h! H-heyy…stop teasing…” he looks through his lashes, desperation evident.

Finally giving in, you lean down, taking as much of him into his mouth as you can at this angle. He gasps, leaning back and biting his finger to stop himself from being too loud. You look up, wide eyes meeting his. You lift your head, taking a deep breath. “Don’t quiet yourself. I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby.” His eyes lightly roll back at your words, moaning louder when you return to his weeping cock, keeping a quick, almost torturous, pace. He shakily reaches out to grab your head, not forcing you down, just feeling you and trying to remain stable.

You lift your head again, kissing him hard and rough. He desperately tries to keep up, lips slipping against yours messily. You take his hand, leading it down to your crotch. “Touch me, love. Please, I need it.” You rasp out, making him shiver. As he reaches into your underwear, he nearly melts at the feeling of how wet you are. His fingers gently curl into you, feeling you pulse around him hungrily. He gently pulls his hand out, looking at the slick on his fingers before shoving them in his mouth greedily. Groaning at the taste, he reaches his free hand out to grab your thighs, feeling your soft skin under his desperate touch. “Mmfph, alwaysh taste so goodf me,” he tries to speak with his fingers still in his mouth, not wanting to stop. He tries again to taste more but you stop him, to many protests.

But they quickly stop when you take you underwear off, slipping it out from under you and tossing them in the back seat. “Push your seat back,” you state casually, but you both know it’s a command. Hurriedly, he scrambles for the seat controls, moving himself as far back as possible. He looks to you, then down at himself. He pulls his pants and underwear down further, then looks to you excitedly. Carefully, you reach your right leg over him, straddling his lap. You can feel him throb against your leg, impossibly fast, and the wetness he can’t seem to stop. You pause, looking down at him. “I want to hear you say you want this before I do anything. If this is how we rekindle our relationship, it’s starting on a good note. And if not, then it’ll end on one. But I need to hear you say it.”

Quickly, he grabs at your thighs, tight grip digging into you. “Yes, yes, please. I need you. I’ve missed you so bad and, and just want to be with you right now. I need it. I need you. Please…” His desperate pleas and pathetic expression shoot to your core, you can feel yourself growing even wetter. That was all the motivation you need as you lift yourself up and grab his dick, lining it up with teasing touches against you, earning groans and gasps every time. Finally, you start to sink down, wincing. It’s been a while and Johnny is a lot to handle. But he doesn’t notice. His head is thrown back, strings of long whines, moans, and other pornstar sounds pouring from his mouth. His sounds are motivation enough as you sink down as far as possible. It’s like you knocked the wind out of him, gasps are all you get out of him for now. You take a second to adjust further.

Then, you begin to move. Hips rocking back and forth, forehead pressed into his shoulder. You speed up, bouncing on him as you basically use him. It’s not like he minds, whimpers echoing through the car, hands death gripping onto your ass as you ride him. He genuinely can’t control himself, babbling near nonsense. You can make out a few of the words he’s saying in your ear. “Love”, “s’good”, “missed this”, and “feel incredible” is about it amongst the uncontrollable moans. You can definitely tell that it's been a long time. I mean, he’s usually pretty whiny, but this takes the cake. 

He manages to get a solid couple of sentences out in his fucked out state, wrapping his arms around you like a hug. “I missed you so bad, I knew it was a mistake. No one that feels this good could be bad. I missed being yours, missed having you use me like this. I love it, I love you.” His hips jerk upwards without rhythm, desperate to get off. His words egg you on further, speeding up and absolutely shaking the car. His grip on you tightens as you can tell he’s about to cum. You whisper shakily into his ear, “Come on baby, cum for me. Be a good boy for me.” With that, he finishes with a loud cry, a death grip around you and shaking thighs. He trembles beneath you, still sensitive from the comedown. You smooth out his hair, brushing the hairs stuck to his forehead from sweat. Still fuzzyheaded, he kisses you tenderly, full of love.

You slowly climb off and get back in your seat, catching your breath. But you don’t have long, as Johnny grabs your leg and twists you. Exposing you as you lean against the car door, you barely have time to think before he dives in, eating you out with such fervor that you genuinely can’t believe he got down there that fast. After his sweet words and all that you’ve done, you’re not that far from the edge. He hasn’t forgotten all the ways to make you cum though, as he quickly gets you even closer. He rubs his nose against your clit, causing you to jump at the sensitivity. But then, his head backs up slightly, which you can’t take at this moment. You have to finish. You grab his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and fuck his face hard. He is moaning again at this point, your pleasure gets him off just as much as his own. You lose the ability to think about anything but cumming, your sole goal. Finally, you finish, your grip on him loosening. But he stays just as close, burying his face in you and lapping up your cum mixed with his.

He finally pulls away, both of you gasping for air. You are suddenly much more thankful for being parked in a more secluded area. After what feels like forever, you turn and whisper out, “Am I as good as you remember?” Turning his head, he laughs and whispers, “Better than I remembered.”

[sicklyworm]

hello your taste in characters is so cool and based i LOVE shang qinghua. i was wondering what ur thoughts r on his relationship with shen qingqiu as portrayed in the books and in canon?

i feel like even tho they have great scenes together, we don't get all that much interaction between the two so its easy to miss key details about how exactly their dynamic works.

like, in fanfiction i often find that writers tend to write shen qingqiu as like Incredibly antagonist towards shang qinghua or they're the bestest friends in the entire world and neither of those feel quite right, but otherwise getting their relationship accurate seems to be kinda tough.

Oh dear moot thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about this!

My thoughts on cannon Cumplane:

SQH and SQQ's friendship mostly stems from circumstance.

Both of them are modern men in a ancient fantasy world with little to no connection too there past lives. They both have to act out the strict standards of ancient chinese culture while on the inside both of them are brain rotted netizens.

So having another transmigrator who they can unmask with and be able to say all the shit they can't elsewhere is probably super cathartic!

They do like pestering and annoying each other in cannon. But rather than interpreting this as animosity i believe this is just another sign of them cutting loose and being more authentic than they usually can be.

Now this not to say they are ride or dies. Both of them have things they prioritize over there friendship and that's okay! They can have a good friendship without being all super loyal and dramatic about it.

Honestly it would be OCC if SQH suddenly stopped be a slimy rat bastard because he was circumstance buddies with SQQ. And with how thin SQQ's face is it would be SUPER OCC for him to declaring they were besties lol.

Also side note about SQQ being portrayed as antagonistic in fanfiction:

Many people find SQH relatable and get really defensive about his character because of that. I can easily understand someone misinterpreting there dynamic as hostile and getting super defensive and start character bashing SQQ because of that.

We all love our favorite characters but it's important to keep a level of separation in mind when writing!

Extra:

I was rereading the books to make sure my brain wasn't getting things mixed up and I realized that most of the time SQH is the one doing the pestering in cannon. Yes SQQ does go on his little tirades about PIDW but with his face being so thin and SQH being so shameless it's usually SQQ at the butt of the jokes!

[kwolz]

fem!reader, implied nsfw-ish but not explicit, soft dom / tall lilia implied, praise, lowercase intended, use of "baby", amateur writer, scrapped production

steady hums of the air conditioner rumbled quietly in the room but all you could hear was the loud and lewd sounds of skin-to-skin contact, your hips growing sore and thighs burning at the constant movement you were forced to keep up with.

panting heavily, you could hear your own voice growing even more needy as you pleaded quietly into crook of the man's shoulder, gripping the headboard behind him for dear life.

please, please please please please just–

chuckling lowly, lilia only pressed a reassuring kiss to the crown of your head, humming in approval when he hears you moan at such a simple act of affection.

“my baby can keep it up, can't she? she wants to make mister vanrouge happy, doesn't she? hm?”

the older man only let out an amused laugh with his head slightly thrown back as he listens to you whine loudly into his shoulder— he knew calling himself Mister Vanrouge had a prominent effect on his darling love and the old fae intended to abuse it as much as he wanted to.

he groans deeply into your ear after giving it a teasing lick, large hands once again coming around your bruised hips; lilia coos at your pitiful state— glassy eyes filled with tears and wet lips desperately chasing after his to which he grants your wish after making you beg a little, he liked hearing you beg.

“alright baby, you did well. let mister vanrouge take care of you, yeah?”

and with that, your body goes completely limp as you sighed in relief. arms wrapping around the man's broad shoulders and pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder as thanks before his grip on your hips signalled you to tighten your hold on him.

the man moved your body with ease even though you were straddling his lap. he lets out a shameless moan, cooing at how well you did for him and now you shall receive the reward you worked so hard for. his ever so teasing tongue darts out to lick at your sensitive neck, immediately headed for the sweet spot to further nibble and kiss at the love bites planted there.

“you gonna come, baby? gonna come for your mister vanrouge, eh? what a good girl.”

you could only nod your head frantically against his chest, pressing yourself closer and gripping on the front of his shirt, the fact that he was fully clothed in contrast to your bare body only made you feel even better and he knows it all too well.

written and posted by kwolz. copying, modifying, or reposting on any other platform are strictly prohibited.

[juniefruit]

~☆ My Masterlist ☆ ~

☆ Most Recent works:

-Immortal Rose {s}

☆ Welcome! I'm Junie (pronounced joo-nee; she/her), and I write to satiate my delusion! I am also a college student! Therefore, I write when inspiration strikes. Writing is supposed to be fun! So, I'm not going to burn myself out over something I don't even get paid for. My works will have an:

{s} for smut/mature.

[hc] for headcanons/drabbles.

*some fics don't have any indication because they are a oneshot and generally PG13.

Read at your own risk cuz I'm not your mother. No minors for the 18+ content, that's illegal!!! go watch cocomelon or something.

☆ All works are 100% mine. I will never blatantly plagiarize, paraphrase, or copy AI or any writer. I will tag who inspired me. Y'all, I barely proofread. Ain't nobody got time for that!

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Works in progress are blue!

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-artist bf hyunjin: one two [hc]

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☆ felix ☆

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☆ seungmin ☆

-detective partner seungmin [hc]

-Shoreline Serenade + optional smut chap.

shoreline serenade additional headcanons

☆ jeongin ☆

-college bf jeongin [hc]

[unhappy-last-resort]

PGR Fanfic Recommendations

Just wanted to compile a little list of my favorites.

These range from 18+, to fluff, to angst, to suggestive (smut will be labeled 18+)

Knight's Longing - Sensabo

If you know my blog, this is not a surprise at all. I think I've talked about this fic like three times on here. It's gold if it were words. This is...not really angst or fluff, more of a character study if anything.

In This Moment - Sensabo

You like Noan? You like pain? Well do I have the fic for you! This is a slight canon divergence AU that takes place around CH26 / Cradle's Parade. If you know, you know.

|18+| 2023 Kinktober, Shameless - Starry

So, I did forget to mention (and was also self conscious about my writing so I lowkey didn't want to), but the Vonnegut segment is partly responsible for the existence of Forgive Me, My God. So...thank you for inadvertently enabling me?

Bloodbath - Starry

Yandere. Roland. Blood. My favorite things. Do I need to explain more? Like probably most people who are getting into the PGR fandom on tumblr, Starry's fics where one of, if not the first fanfics I read and this was absolutely the first Yandere PGR fic I read.

Am I The Only One? - Chronoshot

To be honest, these two fics by Chronos are a little special to me. Sprial of Chronos is one of my favorite patches and it's the one where I really got into PGR so it holds a special place in my heart

Luck Had Your Name - Chronoshot

This one I love a lot. The writing and use of color really emphasizes Lee's sincerity. On that note, this person is just a very good writer and you should read their stuff beyond this!

Regret - Les

a very cute little Chrome fluff fic that I read many, many moons ago but still warms my heart.

Marks & Claims - Les

A little Noctis fluff fic, one of the few that exist in English, I believe and I still remember being excited when I first saw it.

You Don't Have To Knock Next Time You Come In - Squishy

I still love this little yandere drabble from Squishy. They were the first one who really encouraged me on my blog and those asks and interactions I still hold dear to this day.

|18+| Twilight Falls (Bloodborne AU) - enupairdepartment

I, unfortunately, have yet to play Bloodborne, but I am obsessed with its aesthetic. Have you seen some of the scenery? Or the bosses? Terrifying, elegant, beautiful, and horrifying, are some of my favorite things. Hence why I had to read this AU. The ideas and potential this has definitely kept it in the back of my mind ever since I first read it.

Side Note: This author writes primarily Character X Character ships including Camu/Roland, Lee/Liv, Lee/Vera, Bianca/Watanabe so if that's something you've been looking for, consider checking them out!

Untitled Work - Shrimp Dumpling

Shrimp is one of the lovely people who participated in my PGR Writing Game, they have some lovely little fics that are honestly just a lot of fun to read.

Cherished Dreams - Eden

Do not be fooled by the author's ominous name, this is a fluff fic! With our one and only Wanshi written very beautifully.

|18+| Yandere Alpha - Rei

Look man, I have to include this okay. Ms. Lightning McQueen herself broke into my house and threatened me to do it, it's not my fault.

That's all that will be in this post, I will probably do this again at some point, but regardless I hope you found some new writers you'll enjoy. Remember to let them know that you appreciated their fics if you do!

[therealslimshakespeare]

Dear John || Apologies

Summary: John Egan sits down to respond to the unforeseen favor of a letter from Miss Julie Jean Turner

Warning: mild, usual universe warnings

Circa: late August 1943

All writing credit to my incredible baby buddy Bri, knowing I was swamped with other chapters and having been possessed by the spirit of old romance she set out to write this, loosely based on our mutual screams in the the dms

Dear Ms. Tierney,

If strangers call you Lana Tierney and friends call you Julie Jean Turner, I do not fit in either category after the way I behaved when writing to you my letter, and as such, I’m choosing to address you respectfully. I meant every word I said, Acorn, but I was crude and unmannered in my speaking to you and a gal like you deserves better.

Fuck- there I go with that nickname.

And now I’ve written a curse. I have to wrap this up before I turn it to further shit. My intended apology to you is very real but my approach - whether in being in awe of you or asking for your forgiveness - my approach never is right.

Buck has sat me down now and he’s told me where I went wrong in the way I was so vulgar with you. I told him I must have done something right to receive such a lovely picture in response, but then I got to thinking you were most likely only doing your due diligence and making happy a man who can die any day now. Like another stop at the war bond tour.

A.C.O.R.N. - you’ve asked what it means but this letter is to be respectful and at some point on this paper I hope to get to my apology. In accordance with the respect and manners and apology that I keep referencing I can’t let you know what it stands for, doll. It’s filthy (in the best possible way) and you absolutely cannot know what it means. This is a nice letter of respect and penance so let me get to it. Forgive me Ms. Tierney for my vulgar comments and shameless drunken ramblings that in turn forced you to feel like you had to give me the time of day. I am not worthy but I will appreciate your response and kindness and loveliness well beyond the length of this godforsaken war.

Take care sweet, precious, gentlest of ladies.

Your devoted (and sober) admirer,

Maj. John Egan

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[seelestia]

A Blessed Imperfection [1/3]

(submitted by: @/hermosacolibri. all credits go to them, this work isn't mine!)

SYNOPSIS: Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and thus seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.

WARNING(S): symptoms of chronic/terminal illness, implications of mental instability, mentions of past trauma resulting to severe injury, possible triggers, panic attacks, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, etc…

CHARACTER(S):

Aether (as Traveler & Abyss Prince), Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Dainsleif

NOTE: I copy-pasted this from my Quotev so if the format turns bad, that’s why lmao. Part 2 will have the Zhongli and Ayato version I submitted with some other characters from the same nations. Part 3 will be Sumeru boys and Harbingers. I will submit them at a later date lol. Anyway, I would like to leave a shameless promo here for those interested in my writing. HERE is my Quotev. For those who wish to read about my collab story here on Tumblr, it is posted by my co-writer: @intothegenshinworld

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•

•

AETHER is like a star in the abyssal sky, constantly in sight yet far out of mortal reach. He carries the wishes of others, granting them in acts of what shall be seen as miracles or blessings. When time arrives for departure, he shoots across the cosmos with a trail of light that leaves witnesses mesmerized. Alas, he whom was born half of a whole, the name of this Traveler is forever bound to that of another—his dear sister, Lumine. Due to these same ties, he undergoes a quest across Teyvat to find her. The promise of a reunion always uttered by his lips, hopeful and eager yet never taking for granted the steps he took.

The lonely young man is at odds with the world. He could barely trust anyone after some god caused him to separate from his younger sibling. However, this humble Viator continues to treat others amiably in hopes to be treated the same way. From nation to nation, the blond adolescent sought answers from this peculiar world that felt so nostalgic yet still so foreign to him. There are trying moments of grief and frustration, but also blissful days of celebration.

Throughout this path, it was entirely unexpected for him to develop an intimate attachment.

Aether was not a stranger to bittersweet partings, as someone whom has always hopped from one world to another. For this same reason, he and Lumine try not to get too invested in any realm they visit. It was better for them as well as for everyone else that welcome them so affectionately. There must always be a particular distance to maintain, since there can be no guarantee of their stay or return. A deeper tragedy is the knowledge they can easily outlive the dwellers of any world. Witnessing the birth and death of many stars since their youth, the twins have grown rather desensitized to friendships that would not last as long as their lifespan.

That is why this separation hits them where it hurts enough to leave a scar.

Then, there was you.

As a mere mortal in a world governed by gods, you are content to live your life the best way you know. It is a lifestyle that can change at your will. One day, you can be exploring as an adventurer. The next, you are a seamstress earning your keep for the week you plan to stay with the spinsters. Every other month, you do a variety of odd jobs that you have learned throughout your lifetime. As a human, you are most hyperaware that everything can be ephemeral…

…and someday, even your soul shall be relinquished to the judgment of Celestia.

Until then, it is yours to do as you see fit.

For this reason, you felt torn by the Pyro Vision that had been bestowed upon you. While most of your peers seek the blessing of the divine gaze, you have subconsciously sought to avoid it. Many saw it as a gift but you were raised under the notion that most presents come with strings. Earning the “eye of god” meant that you are under Celestia’s watchful gaze, thus binding you to the Heavenly Principles. Their elemental blessings taunt mortals to dare reaching for the stars, and gain a place amongst the divine if they are deemed worthy of it.

Well, you personally believe that only thineself can determine one’s worth—no other, not even the gods.

Nevertheless, you move forward. Keep going on a quest without a destination, as you always do, until this fleeting life comes to its inevitable end.

Needless to say, there is one thing you genuinely did not see coming—

“I am so sorry, Miss!”

—and that was meeting your soulmate.

“It’s fine.” You replied.

Aether scrambles to collect your things while you do the same at a more relaxed pace. Your satchel had become so worn that it took a small bump to finally snap the strap. Now, all your possessions have been scattered across the ground. Fortunately, the blond stranger is a very kind and considerate young man.

Once you got everything, said stranger wasted no time apologizing profusely again.

“I should have been looking where I was walking! It was my fault.”

You tilt your head, “You could just make it up to me and we can call it even.”

His aureate eyes beamed as he nodded with an eager smile. At that moment, you wonder if he is the personification of the sun.

You smiled serenely, “I’m [Name].”

He pauses, a flicker of doubt passing through his gaze. Quick as it came, it disappeared as he smiled back—a tad softer.

“Just call me Aether.”

That day, he bought you a new satchel.

When you were younger, your parents always said that one moment is the same as a thousand—you only need one. It was a proverb that both confused and unnerved you. After they died together due to sickness, the words were haunting as you buried them before leaving your village. Every moment was cherished by you, each one unique in the best and worst of ways. However, as both you and Aether keep crossing each other’s paths after one meeting, a part of you finally thrums to life in understanding.

At one point, Aether even sought you out for a joint commission together.

“Don’t you have a travelling partner?” You asked.

He laughs sheepishly, “He’s a bit busy doing other things. Also…”

A light blush colored his cheeks, looking away as he scratched his nape lightly.

“…I wanted to spend some time with you.”

You found him cute so you agreed.

On that particular day, Aether learned something new about you. It was the little things he had been noting every time you met. The way you sometimes slur even though not a drop of alcohol can be traced from your scent, how you try so hard to keep your emotions under a certain level of control, how your eyes randomly droop even when you always look so adequately well-rested, and the pills he saw you sneak into your meals/drinks—you were ill. Perhaps, it was not the traditional ailment that left you weak and bedridden. The scariest symptom has been the occasional hallucinations that distract you, since the more vivid ones tend to set off your Vision. Anything within a meter radius is either set aflame, or rises up in temperature. It is why you always remind him to keep a certain distance whenever you tend to space out. He never prodded because you gave him the same respect of privacy by never prying into his life, even if he saw the incessant curiosity he adored about you. Still, he looks after you because he had to admit he truly grew fond of you.

Then, on your way home, you just abruptly collapsed as if your entire body went boneless.

“[Name]—!!!”

Aether caught you just in time before your head hit the ground. He checks your temperature for a fever, and then searches for some wounds you might have missed. You have a high pain tolerance, which can sometimes be a disadvantage whenever an injury goes unnoticed. There was a time a scratch almost got infected, or even when you nearly bled out because a poison prevented coagulation.

When he saw no signs, the outlander lifts you up in his arms and calls for the nearest doctor.

Thankfully, nothing was amiss and you just needed to rest while adjusting your diet.

Aether witnessed the true horror of your condition when you abruptly woke up half past midnight. He was already passed out on your bedside, sat on the ground and his head resting on his forearms. The chaise lounge would have been practical, but the blond felt the urge to be near you. At some point, he just dozed off.

On the other hand, you jolted awake with a choked gasp and widened eyes of terror. It was not due to any frightening nightmare. This is just how it always goes every time you wake up: frozen stiff, terrified, and barely breathing. Your pupils dilate as your iris moved wildly to make sense of your surroundings, pointedly ignoring the shadows manifesting into something monstrous. The candle on the nightstand was unfortunately almost fully spent, flickering to its last embers of light. With every dance, the shadows seem to get closer and slithering to get their clawed hands on you.

Alas, the candlelight spares you one last hope of salvation amidst this merciless night.

Sunshine golden hair glowed, emitting a silver halo as moonlight peeked from the half-open blinds. As much as you are able, you desperately crane your neck to see your companion. Tears blur your sight but the silhouette is unmistakable to you. His warm breath blew against your fingers, centimeters away from his lips as he breathed. Chilling goosebumps ran across your skin yet you welcomed it, hoping to regain mobility from this nightmarish paralysis. Your hand twitched, wishing to get ahold of this precious little sun—uncaring if it burns.

If you are to be like Icarus, then you would prefer an end embraced by warmth and light…

…instead of ice and darkness.

Perhaps, pyro suited you for this reason.

Your lips purse, crying in anguish to speak.

“A…Ae…A-Aether…”

To your relief, that seems to be enough to awaken the young man. However, respite is all to brief as your chest seizes up. The mere act of breathing gets difficult, and your heartbeat grew alarmingly slow as it echoed alongside the tinnitus in your ears.

Aether blinks awake, expecting the grace of morning light. Instead, he was met with your agonized gaze in a darkening room. In an instant, he snaps into full attention as he cups your face. You cannot hear him but you can guess that he must be firing questions out of concern.

“[Name], what’s wrong?! Are you in pain? What can I do? How can I help?” He exclaimed.

You gasped and hoarsely coughed.

“C-Can’t…breathe…I…”

The blond quickly thinks back to whenever Lumine experienced minor panic attacks. He assumes this is relatively similar, so he hopes his next actions will help rather than harm. Gently and carefully, he takes you into his arms. Back against the headboard, the new position situates you comfortably on his lap as one arm is secured around your waist. He takes both of your trembling hands with his free one, directing them to rest against his sternum.

“[Name],” he says softly yet firmly, “I need you to focus on me, okay? Focus for me. Hey—”

He catches your frantic gaze around the room and mindfully tilts your head back to meet his stare. They are brimming with steadfast reassurance, not at all deterred by the dark beasts. Your head rests against his shoulder, as you do as he told—closing your eyes to only relish his warmth, consume his scent, and listen to his voice.

“Breathe with me. Inhale, exhale…”

His chest rises and falls, to which you mimic the rhythm in return.

“Feel my pulse, and use it as your center.”

One hand keeps hold of his and the other seeks his heart, obeying the instructions.

The hand connected to the arm securing your back drift to your hair. At that moment, you realize that Aether’s hands are ungloved. Wandering fingers comb through your strands, calming you down with a soothing pet. Little by little, you regain movement in your limbs yet you rest limply—content.

“That’s it.” Aether whispered, “You’re doing great. Just keep repeating the exercise with me.”

“Aether…”

“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You wept and sobbed, “Aether…”

“I know.” He murmurs as he cries with you, “You’ve been so strong, [Name]. Everything’s fine. You’re not alone anymore.”

You look up, “Promise?”

He looks back, “I promise.”

The hand on his chest reaches for his white scarf as you pull him down. He obliges as his grip on you tightened, holding you close while your free hands adjust to interlace with each other.

That was the first kiss of many.

Day or night, Aether stood by you. Every battle was fought together. Every quest was finished together, sometimes with his elusive partner named Dainsleif whom was later introduced to you. On the journey to search for his sister, he even renewed his vows.

“When we find her, you can come with us.”

You smile teasingly, “I don’t have world-hopping powers.”

He narrows his eyes at you, unyieldingly headstrong and determined.

“I’ll find a way to bring you with us anyway.”

He raises your hand to his lips with a sly grin.

“You’re not getting rid of me~!”

Aether cradled you in adoration as if you were an endless summer amidst the cold loneliness of his sister’s absence. You beheld him as if he was the sun bringing life to the paradise of your evanescent mortality. The pair of you were thriving happily, hand in hand, even after discovering the truth of this world—and dictating the journey’s end.

Then, your Vision broke mysteriously, and you were condemned to an enchanted sleep.

Aether cursed the divine and all of Teyvat for it. He figured this was his price for learning the truth, but taking you will be their gravest mistake. He severes his ties with Dainsleif, whom tried to console him into taking the righteous path. He viewed you as his friend as well, and he knew you would not want this for your lover.

Now, the Abyss Prince sits by your bed—waiting in forlorn hope. His ungloved knuckles caress your cheek lovingly. You were dressed in a nightgown with abyss colors, outlined by satin ribbons of silver and gold. A crown of inteyvat rested on your head, petals scattered across your spread locks draped over silk pillows. They have grown after the past centuries but he dutifully trims them to an acceptable length.

“Your Highness,” the Abyss Herald called, “it is time.”

Aether paused. His honey gaze hardens and his aura turns cold. He breathes deeply, eyes closed to lean down and leave a chaste kiss on your brow.

“I will return shortly, my love.”

He puts on his gloves, taking leave resolutely.

Even if the sun turns black, you will both find your way back to each other. Even as the moon is painted red, goodbye shall never be an option. Every star in the sky—false or otherwise—shall bear witness to a union that even the Heavenly Principles would dare not destroy. Should this world be torn asunder, the reckoning cannot spell departure for either you or Aether. This is the eclipse that will pave the way to a new world, as the Abyss Order entails.

For if fate can only be accepted, thy vows shath be sworn by royal decree—

“You are my predestined person, the one I will always choose.”

ALBEDO discovered that there is beauty in what the heart perceives which the eyes cannot see. As an artist, he can grasp onto the concept yet is unable to truly understand it since he heavily relies upon his sight. As an alchemist, whatever eludes him may come into being by his own hands and thus enable him to attain it. The pursuit of truth is a mere matter of time and place, preordained even if hidden. As the most prized creation of Rhinedottir, he was given the task of uncovering the truth of this world for himself as a purpose in life. Even if to exist is a sin in the eyes of Celestia, he must endure and keep moving forward to reach his answers.

Amidst such dedicated research, there was little time and effort to be spared for attachments. The Chief Alchemist of Ordo Favonius finds it much too difficult to maintain. Of course, exceptions has been made throughout the years. Aside from his master, he had bonded with Alice and Klee as family. He had also made friendships with his colleagues amongst the Knights of Favonius and his subordinates, whom he taught the art of alchemy. Alas, as an artificial human created by a sinner, he feels as if he can never belong anywhere. Regardless of these bonds, the Kreideprinz feels as if a part of his heart remains hollow. 

It came to him that this place was reserved for you, the apple of his eye.

Ever since Albedo met you, a new muse began to live within his heart. People consider it as seeing the world through rosy lenses; but for him, it felt as if everything appeared clearer than facts…

…and it was beautiful.

The sun shines brighter. The wind blows cooler. The grass looks greener. Therefore, life is that much greater and sweeter. He is still in pursuit of truth, yet he felt as if the magnum opus was already in his hands—molded in the shape of you.

His only lament was that you could not see it alongside him.

You were not born blind. It happened from an act of jealousy and unkindness. Before you came to the City of Freedom, you were a noblewoman dwelling in Fontaine and worked as an artist. Much like him, you love to paint and draw but Albedo always argues that you were better at it. He had seen your works long ago, and every single piece has never failed to inspire him. It was as if each painting can bequeath aspirations, letting it blossom from the hearts of the people that view it.

Then, news spread that your entire atelier was set on fire while you were still in it…

…and then, you lost your eyes.

The Hydro Vision in your hand may have been the sole reason you even survived. Many speculated that you can never make art the same way again.

You came to Mondstadt, wishing to break free from the suffocating experience. You struggled to regain your passion, overcome your sorrows.

Then, you met Albedo; and one thing led to another.

It started when you were taking a stroll in Springvale with your guide dog, Vincent. He is a very spirited Golden Retriever, protective and responsible. You both stumble upon a young girl named Klee, whom was busy fighting a bunch of hilichurls. You opted to stand aside and calm your snarling canine friend, petting his head. When your keen hearing detected irregular breathing and racing heartbeat, you realize that the little girl was getting overwhelmed. She must have fought other hoards before your arrival, and now you hear slimes joining the fray. Thus, you order Vincent to keep his distance and engaged.

Sword unsheathed from your walking cane, you attack the ones behind Klee. Her bombs startled you when they exploded too close, but your hydro shield easily deflected any friendly fire. Vapor damage is then redirected to the monsters, tempering the girl’s mines and lasers so your skin will not be singed by the building heat. Vincent was barking wildly like a supportive cheerleader, growling whenever you get nicked or whenever the other girl yelped.

Soon, the fight was over.

The pitter-patters of tiny feet went towards you, and stopped at an arm’s length. You look down, smiling kindly yet not sheathing your blade.

“Thank you for helping Klee!” She chirped.

You chuckle, “You’re welcome.”

Vincent came running towards you, shamelessly  nuzzling your legs. He then licks Klee’s hand in his own way of befriending her, causing the girl to giggle from the ticklish sensation. She hugs him around the neck, and you can only tilt your head in amusement.

“What’s your name, Miss?”

“You may call me [Name].”

The hairs at your nape rose. Although you can see nothing else but darkness, your eyes also snapped open with a dark glower. By instinct, you swung your sword to strike whomever snuck behind you.

A resounding clang echoed in your ears, as metal struck against metal. Another sword has parried yours skillfully yet makes no move to counter.

“Brother Albedo…!” Klee exclaims.

Upon realization that this is no stranger, you swiftly disengaged with a soft apology. The gesture was returned as the man apologized for startling you. To your amazement, Vincent did not seem to be wary of this newcomer. The dog merely barked gruffly, a bit admonishing, instead of growling defensively like he always did.

“You dropped this.” Albedo said.

You hesitantly presented your hand to receive whatever he was giving. A familiar cloth is placed on your palm. You belatedly realized that it was your blindfold. It is a durable silk fabric that kept your burn scars from showing. Your disfigured face has been exposed all this time for Klee to see.

It must have been a horrifying sight—

“Your eyes are very pretty, Miss [Name]!”

Your breath hitched at the unexpected compliment, turning away shyly. As you wore the blindfold again, Klee notices Albedo smiling in awe at you. She put up her hands to cover her mouth and muffle her mischievous giggles.

“I agree.” He murmured.

You nodded, “Many thanks.”

Albedo never told you, but for him, it was love at first sight the moment his eyes met yours. There have been solitary days spent in Dragonspine where he wondered tirelessly:

Would it have been a mutual feeling if you could have seen him back then too?

From then onwards, the mysterious alchemist had turned into a close friend. He acted as a personal pillar of support in unexpected ways. The little ball of sunshine that is Klee turned into a source of lighthearted joy for you as well. They tend to visit your home in the city together, offering gifts and knick-knacks. The habitual meetings resulted into some new friends who helped you settle down in Mondstadt, especially Eula. Her own aristocratic lineage helped you two bond about a lot of things, even when she vehemently rejects hers—which is frankly for understandable reasons. You both share the sentiment that genuine nobility upholds the belief of noblesse oblige above all.

Albedo, most of all, enabled you to regain the love you thought had been lost forever with your sight.

Although life still hit hard with how you struggle to create art, your appreciation for it was reborn and you are experiencing everything all over again as something new. Regardless of the burns and scars that made you insecure, the Kreideprinz made you feel nothing less than desirable and deserving of love. Though the blankness of your gaze saddens him, and sometimes even angers him due to the injustice you were dealt—he saw beauty in all that is you, and everything that blossoms from your hands.

Just for a moment, he wanted to show you what he sees the only way he knew: to create.

Vincent guided you into Albedo’s personal art studio in Mondstadt. The canine looked more excited than you. He nipped at the alchemist's white coat, tail wagging as he sat by your feet but paid attention to your lover. Charming eyes swept between you two as if awaiting praise and treats for a job well done.

For a moment, Albedo was reminded of Klee and it made him smile. He kneels down before the dog, patting his head. After a few minutes of petting, he relinquishes the promised treat.

Vincent then ran to his corner, satisfied. Usually, he is very protective and ends up hovering next to you; but with Albedo, he knows you are safe.

You giggled amusedly.

“Sometimes,” your lover sighed, “I think he only likes me to get treats and headpats. He also only comes to me by whining to play.”

You smirked teasingly, “Sounds familiar.”

Albedo paused before giving you a scolding look, yet the twitching smile betrayed him. He was then taken aback when you presented him a small gift bag and a bouquet of cecilia flowers.

“Happy Anniversary~!” You said.

He smiles, accepting your gifts to greet you back.

“Happy Anniversary, [Name].”

Per usual greeting, Albedo takes your hands in his to let them settle. Then, you let go to just feel as they glide across his skin. He closes his eyes to relish your caresses, nuzzling when you reach his face and touched his cheeks. From there, you felt his smile and it spurned yours.

However, as the alchemist opened his eyes, he had witnessed the spark of sadness in yours.

On your first anniversary together, Albedo crafted a special gift. A wooden easel held a blank canvas, or so it seems. If not for the colorful palette and wet brushes, nobody would spare it any glance or even thought. He guides you in front of him, encasing you in his arms and pressing his chest to your back. His lips whispered instructions almost seductively, soft and sensual as he lifted your hands to move them forward.

“Go ahead.” He implored your touch.

Fingertips make contact with what seems to be a canvas, but with bumps on it that definitely felt like braille. Your brows furrowed in confusion, unable to interpret it as anything. You can decipher some sort of pattern, but nothing in the braille alphabet comes to mind that makes sense.

“Don’t think in words, love.” Albedo advised, “Imagine it as you would paint a landscape.”

He is familiar with your art technique. After all, he has always been a fan since he first purchased your work at an auction. His keen observation noticed that the colors bloom from the center. Then, multiple layers come to refine the structure and control the shades. Once the painting is complete, the basic foundations are harder to notice but details never escape Albedo. To him, it felt like he was seeing two images in a single painting: one perceived by sight, and another perceived by heart—dual masterpieces for the price of one.

You follow his words and thus you begin to deduce a work of something.

The braille patterns made you think of Mondstadt’s flower meadows, petals of cecilia and seedheads of dandelions fluttering in the breeze. An orb that seems to be the sun is raised eastward with what appeared to be outlines of birds, aflight in the cloudy horizon. There are faint marks connoting mountains in the distance, and flowing swirls that felt like wave patterns along the coast. To further understand his message, you sought the center much like how you used to paint.

Albedo detects your newfound focus, aware that an image has been imprinted upon your mind.

“[Name],” he murmured tenderly, “I need you to keep your hands on the canvas. I will guide you in this next step. Do you trust me?”

You smiled meaningfully, “Always.”

A loving caress upon your skin is accompanied by a chaste kiss on your crown.

“I cannot give you the world—”

Then, the brailles moved.

“—but I can leave a piece of it in your hands.”

You quickly realize that the brailles were not made of ordinary material. Days and nights of listening to your lover’s random alchemy ramblings allowed you to learn a thing or two. This braille painting has been constructed with special elemental crystals. From the feel of it, they respond strongly to elemental energy—particularly yours and Albedo’s combined, both currently being channeled. Depending on the crystal, it can resonate with other elements.

Beneath your hands, the patterns moved in looping motion to signify that it was animated. Furthermore, the energy that resonated from every shard is almost alive. Anemo can be felt from the swaying of the dandelions, and dendro amplified the scent of the scattered cecilia across the grassland. Even the painted sun emits a comforting warmth due to hints of pyro, as if bathing the scenery with its light. The waves along the shoreline felt moist due to hydro, which resonated strongly with you—and for a short second, you actually miss Fontaine. The mountains are the familiar cold of cryo, which then registered for you that it was likely a reference of Dragonspine.

Just from this, your mind’s eyes can almost envision the outline of a city—one founded by Barbatos.

In Albedo’s eyes, the special formula for the paint which Sucrose helped him concoct had finally revealed itself. To outsiders, the canvas is nothing more but a lumpy surface. In truth, the blind will see its true form; and when given life via elemental energy, the rest will be unveiled. To you whom once knew the colors of the world, the simple animations of the image form a kaleidoscope that provides you melancholic nostalgia. By your fingertips, it certainly felt as if Albedo had given you a piece of the world that only you can see.

For this one moment, he and you can perceive the same world.

Tears gathered in your eyes yet a heartfelt smile radiantly shone upon your face. A sob of genuine happiness wracked your throat. As your knees begin to weaken, you leaned on the man that helped you see again—

—even if only a few seconds.

Albedo also smiled in relief, fully embracing you around the shoulders in support. He let you take in the moment while he basked under the blessing of your presence.

“If there is anything else you wish to see again,” he solemnly swore, “I will be your eyes and shall piously present its sights to you.”

At his oath, you abruptly let go of the painting and turned. Cupping his face in your hands, your lips eagerly meet his. Albedo returns your passionate amor with fervor, ever delighted to please you. He wishes to someday discover the truth of this world, as his master bade him to do. His one desire is that you would be there beside him when he does.

Even if destruction came by his hand, he already knows one truth by heart—

“The beauty of this world forever pales in comparison to you.”

DILUC RAGNVINDR is an uncrowned king raised as a noble gentleman of chivalry and gallantry. From the fiery red of his hair to his stern crimson glare, he upholds his aristocratic lineage with dignity. The cumbersome title of lord dictates the gravity of his obligations to Mondstadt. Whether as a nocturnal vigilante or as master of Dawn Winery, those who dare to threaten his home will face the wrath of his flames. Sinners who refuse penance shall have their blood paint the mighty blade of his claymore, as a furious firebird sends the wicked to retribution.

As a man coveted by many, he keeps his circle small and tightly knit. An outsider’s only chance to ever earn his favor is to either make themselves useful to Mondstadt, or by earning the approval of his more compassionate wife.

That woman is none other than you.

Diluc met you as a playmate in his childhood. His father, Master Crepus, was both a close friend and trusted business partner of your parents. Like the Ragnvindrs, your family specializes in the wine industry—specifically the medicinal values that are incorporated in liquor. Although your own father is from Mondstadt, he settled down in Liyue upon marrying your mother. Secretly, you and Diluc were arranged to be married. Everything worked out well since you both actually liked each other a lot. He was a very protective yet supportive friend, while you were a tactful and encouraging listener. When Kaeya had joined the family, the three of you became quite the inseparable trio.

Then, Crepus Ragnvindr died.

Everything happened so fast. Before you knew it, your fiancé chose to disappear and left only a single note for you as goodbye. It was not even a proper farewell, at least not the kind he made sure to give you every time. Even if there was little to no sincere romance in your engagement, you both respected each other as equals. However, his final note had completely staggered you.

“Don’t wait for me.” It said.

Such a heavy message in merely four words…

You understand what he means by it. He has made a decision wherein he would prefer to not involve you, and thus opting to let you go. The contract regarding the engagement was never too binding. Crepus had assured that either of you can break it off if you both reach such a consensus. However, the former head of the Ragnvindr Clan did not just choose any girl to be paired with his son. He specifically took interest in you because he always knew—if any woman can ever match his son and heir in terms of headstrong stubbornness, it can only be you.

With the patience of a saint, you graciously accepted Diluc’s decision. However, it did not mean you would back down so easily.

Honestly, you see it as poor manners to just leave things with a note. You have to just wait in the Dawn Winery so you can give him a proper scolding upon his inevitable return. Until then, you were more than willing to manage everything else on his behalf. The servants are ecstatic to find out you meant to stay despite their young master’s wishes. Your parents are also very considerate, only ever wishing for your happiness since then and now.

Under your supervision, Dawn Winery flourished and maintained dignity after the loss of its masters. You hold the cunning and integrity of any businessman worth their salt. Adelinde, Elzer, and the entire staff can attest that you are more strict than even the late Lady Ragnvindr—wife of Master Crepus.

Kaeya never confided to you whatever caused the fallout between him and his brother. However, he seemed so relieved and touched when you did not treat him differently. If anything, you seem to dote on him even more now—like a real older sister. He thus returns your kind and loving care equally, a bout of protectiveness that rivals your absent fiancé.

Years later, tragedy struck once again.

You were mistaken as the official Lady Ragnvindr by whichever enemies Diluc had made. They aimed to lure him out by means of threatening his supposed wife, taking you hostage. Despite being Visionless, you were far from a pushover. You did not go down without a fight and worked to plan your escape.

In the end, your captors thought you to be more trouble than your worth…

…and so, they aimed to kill you.

It is only due to Kaeya’s timely arrival this instance that you did not follow Crepus.

However, you did not get out of the incident perfectly unscathed. The brutality you suffered had caused a critical and permanent injury on your spine. It is with heavy hearts that the doctors informed you of the grim situation: you can never walk again.

Diluc promptly returned to Mondstadt when Kaeya relayed the news to him via letter. He had been so devastated to realize that you almost died because of him. He wanted to protect you by letting you go, but he underestimated your resolve. In his mind, he knew the only way to truly get you far away from him is to make you hate him. Upon finding courage to visit you, he doubled down on his determination when he left you years ago. You deserve better, and the life he could give you as Lady Ragnvindr will only be a disappointment. You deserve so much better than waking up to a cold, empty bed and waiting on late nights.

He opened the door to your room in his manor, ready to break your heart so you can leave him.

However, his hardened goal fell short.

You sat by the window, as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Even confined to a wheelchair, you remain smiling so warmly. Your enchanting gaze meets his crimson pair, and he melted at the sheer adoration you bestowed upon him. Your cheeks took a rosy glow, and your smile widened—lips moving to utter words of welcoming him back home, yet he cannot hear a thing. His only thoughts revolved on how badly he wanted to kiss you right now.

Diluc missed you so much, and hence he realized that he really is a fool.

How can he ever survive if he truly broke your heart, the most precious thing you entrusted to him?

“Marry me.” He said.

Much to his surprise, you only laughed and accepted—as if you always believed he would return to you.

It was truly laughable how easily you can weaken his resolve with a mere smile.

“It took you long enough, Master Diluc~!”

You winked at him as you laughed. Despite your lighthearted cheer, the redhead can see that the years apart took a toll on you. He crossed the room in graceful strides and he saw you more vividly. The bags under your eyes did little to dull their sparkle; the hollowness of your cheeks worried him but the rosy hue amplified their glamor; and your pallor was a little too pale for his liking, yet the freckles across your nose reassured him that you get enough sun on a daily basis.

Then, he bends down to hold you close and buries his face at the crook of your neck.

Your heart skipped lightly.

Then, you hugged him back—more tightly.

Diluc said nothing as he felt his shoulder get wet, and you did not make a sound as yours trembled.

“Welcome home.” You whispered.

He grits his teeth to fight against the tears.

“I’m home.” He murmurs.

The marriage started a little awkwardly. Three years had been a long time, and you both had changed in ways that put a strain on your dynamic. However, as you both learned to trust each other the way you did as kids, everything else flowed smoothly. You relied on him as he relied on you. Thanks to your endless patience, you managed to help your dear husband in anything that troubled his heart. At times, it is only by your gentle interventions that his overprotective tendencies can be quelled. It had become norm for the people of Mondstadt to see you at a cozy corner of Angel’s Share—beside the bar, whenever your husband took a shift. Any shenanigans are put to a stop by a warning glare that seemed more scathing than any other nights. None of the patrons—drunk or otherwise—dare to start any ruckus as long as you were present in the tavern.

There is nothing that Diluc kept from you anymore, as he claimed no more secrets. Although, he was curious when you steered clear if the topic is Kaeya.

“It’s not just your secret to share.” You reasoned.

The redhead felt his love and respect for you deepen at the claim.

Now, you sat in your husband’s office. While he was busy doing paperwork, you did embroidery on a silk pillow that got torn. However, there was a stifling air in the room that bothered him.

“What is it?” Diluc asked.

You raise a brow, “What do you mean?”

He stared back knowingly, “You have been redoing the same stitch for the past half hour. That only happens when you’re distracted; and you’re only ever distracted when something is troubling you.”

The redhead leans back on his chair, dropping his quill to cross his arms.

“So,” he continued, “what is it?”

You blushed at the fact you were caught so easily, but also flattered by how he is so attentive to you.

Diluc is then worried by your prolonged hesitance, gradually standing up from his chair. He walks up to you leisurely, kneeling by your side. His gloved hands take yours, mindful of your needlework as he placed it on the table. His vibrant eyes implore you to share your burdens, waiting and encouraging.

“I lied to you.”

He frowns at your blunt confession but said nothing, tilting his head to let you continue.

“On our wedding,” you reminisced, “you asked me what I wanted most so you could provide it. I replied that there was nothing more I could ever want since you asked me to marry you for real.”

Your right hand carefully broke free from his, rising to tuck his fringe away. Your palm rests on his cheek and your husband savored it with fondness. He then recalls being ready to arrange a grandiose wedding that day, remembering how much you rambled about being like a princess in your shared childhood. As a young boy, it used to grate on his nerves; but as your fiancé, Diluc found it necessary to pay attention.

Back then, he did not question it when you asked for a simpler celebration. After all, a lot has changed between him and you—for better and for worse.

“However,” you murmured, “there was one thing I had truly wished to experience with you.”

Your eyes stray away from his, drifting towards the unfinished embroidery pillow. His own eyes follow, and he immediately understands. The picture’s basic design depicts a pair of lovers dancing under the moonlit night. A gazebo frames their silhouettes while lampgrass grew around its base structure.

A wedding dance.

Diluc looks back up to you, smiling in exasperated affection. He then leans forward, taking you into his arms as he stood up. A mild squeak escapes your lips as your own arms clung to his neck, caught off guard by his sudden movement. Your husband steps out of the room while carrying you, yet offers no explanation whatsoever. Although you felt confused, it did not stop you from relaxing in his embrace and just leaning against him.

The redhead took you to the main foyer, and headed straight towards a small library corner. He dismisses the maid stationed to clean it, leaving you both in privacy. First, you were placed on the recliner near the fireplace. Then, he walked towards the old yet pristine gramophone. It belonged to his mother, he vaguely remembers. His father told him that she always loved to collect vinyls, a bittersweet sheen of unconditional love shining in his eyes.

The young lord wonders if the two of you would also remain as in love when you get older together.

“Diluc, what is this all about—”

You trailed off as waltz music began to play.

“When my wife wishes to dance,” he says, “what kind of husband am I to refuse?”

A suave smirk on his handsome face leaves you so utterly breathless. Your heart races, bursting with an unspeakable joy to call this man yours. Captivated by the sight of him, you can only watch as he strides back to you—charming as a prince straight out of a fairy tale book. His gloved hand is presented with a chivalrous bow, his rare theatric side being shown only for you—always only for you.

“May I have this dance, Milady?” He asks.

You gape speechlessly for a minute. A part of you was reluctant. How can you possibly dance in this circumstance? Nonetheless, you trust Diluc more than anything so you accepted.

“You may.”

Diluc gives a dazzling smile at your faith in him, and gently pulls you up. He expertly places your feet on his shoes, carrying your weight as you swayed. One of your hands is on his shoulder while one of his arms is wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you close. Your respective free hands are entwined, inseparable and perfectly at ease.

The marital couple moved fluidly and gracefully. You entrusted your body completely, to be moved in this dance he led confidently. Your patience and trust are returned by his warmth and protection, cradling you in a chrysalis that hopes to let you flourish. He even dares to help you twirl, making the skirt of your dress flutter like the petals of a wild rose in bloom.

The dreamlike sequence ends as he dips you into an intimate position. Heartbeats skip in sync, never of fear but of exhilaration.

Your hands leave his, believing he would never let you fall even if you let go. His grip transferred to your back and your nape, eager to be your support. You caress his face and pull him down for a searingly passionate kiss. He indulges you wholly, taking all that you have willingly given him. Your fingers shook as they entangle with his red mane. With the ease of a man who wields a claymore, he lifts you up. Your arms held tight around his neck, tilting into a new angle to not break the kiss. The fervor is returned a hundred fold, as if Diluc wishes nothing more than to fuse his soul with yours.

You are the one who empowers his flames, igniting his heart as your chosen Ifrit.

He made a vow at the altar, and not even death can do you part anymore—

“The privilege to call you mine is an honor I cannot surrender to fate.”

KAEYA ALBERICH is someone painfully aware of the power in words, and uses it to his advantage. He is as mysterious as he is efficient at being the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius. The charisma he exudes can be as menacing as the frigid coldness of his Cryo Vision. The swiftness of his blade can be more merciful than the secrets he ruthlessly exploits. As much as he is admired by his peers, everyone can unanimously agree that his enigmatic ways leave them a little wary to trust him entirely. Nevertheless, the cunning of a flightless bird is just as deadly as the venom of a pit viper. A reluctance to comply is merely a sign to delve deeper.

In the carefree city of Mondstadt, only one has squared up to his level and defeated him—

—in every sense of the word.

You are the dainty little assistant of Lisa Minci, the resident librarian of Mondstadt. She slyly evades all attempts of divulging how and from where she met you. It is rumored she just found you sewing some of her worn books one day, and then decided that she has to have you as her assistant. The only other thing known about your relationship with her is that she can be extremely protective to the point of territorial. Similarly, nobody can fully understand the eccentricities demonstrated by the Witch of Purple Rose as much as you do. Since your employment, a peaceful synergy can be observed in the workings of the library and even the Knights of Favonius HQ.

The most notable thing about you is how you never limit your goodwill to work. Anyone you can reach is always on the receiving end of compassion. As such examples, Lisa has proudly introduced you to many of her prestigious friends. Since then, it had become a norm for them to see you.

Jean always ends up a little more relaxed with the cups of coffee you brew for her. You serve her tea as a silent insistence when it was time to rest. Albedo and Sucrose now have a habit of asking your referral in finding the best locations for any ingredients they would need. At random times, you appear around the corner to help Noelle in the most menial tasks and labors. Whenever Amber returns from her daily outriding, she would find you welcoming her by the gates with some food and water. Lastly, even Eula has begun picking you up to join her for lunch on weekends. You are the only civilian that never treats her differently, and actually seems to like her very much as a friend.

In a bout of poetic irony, the only one that seems to rarely receive your kindness was Kaeya.

Of course, you were far from unkind or cruel. You still greet him amicably every time you cross paths in the hallways or city streets. However, his shrewd gaze can detect your hesitance to interact with him for prolonged periods of time. Politely asking you about it did him no good as well. You only stared at him skeptically before shrugging, as if he should know the answer. A part of him questioned why it even bothered him so much, but perhaps it was a matter of ego. He knows himself well enough to be aware that it could be the reason he kept persisting on gaining your favor.

When Kaeya decided to tell Lisa about his situation, she had the gall to laugh at him.

“It’s because she sees right through you.”

Kaeya raises a brow, “I beg your pardon?”

Lisa smiles sharply, “My darling [Name] is an astute judge of character. It’s one of the reasons I adore her so much. Like you, she also knows her way with words. The more you talk while she listens, the more she compares the character she sees in your eyes and the persona that speaks with your lips. If they don’t match up, she will consider you to be too dangerous.”

For a moment, the Cavalry Captain felt his eyes darken defensively. A second later, they return to being detachedly bemused.

The Witch of Purple Rose catches the slip but does not comment about it. In fact, she willingly closes her eyes to let the man have his moment. However, she did continue to speak her piece.

“You’re not a bad guy,” she states, “and she knows that well. However, [Name] is the type who does not like to converse with people that refuse to respect the weight of the words they speak.”

A beaming smile is given by the librarian as she pats her colleague on his shoulder.

“Try speaking a little more honestly! It might earn you some brownie points.” She said.

Kaeya wanted to claim he is not going to bother and that he will just leave it at that. Alas, it seems he had found his match and could not resist your allure. In the end, he nodded before taking his leave.

To Lisa’s credit, her advice worked.

Obviously, Kaeya did not lay everything out in the open; but he became more sincere in his efforts to befriend you. To his pleasant surprise, you may be taciturn and reserved but it did not make you shy at all. If anything, you were quite bold for a pretty little damsel. He playfully flirted with you a few times and you were barely fazed. You even flirted back with teasing glances and fleeting touches that—he was impressed to admit—flustered him in shock. Your dollface can be deceiving as well. He had seen you pettily tattle to Lisa about patrons that give you a hard time. In turn, the mage trusts you to be the one to remind her of anyone who is late on their book returns. Thus, he watched you just peacefully sip tea while your employer terrorized the poor souls that earned her wrath with an innocent smile.

You rewarded the Cavalry Captain’s honest efforts by opening up to him a little.

It is here that Kaeya learned you were mute.

The cause was a very unfortunate birth defect when you were born prematurely. Your vocal chords did not grow correctly and almost suffocated you. The doctors were forced to remove it entirely via surgery so you can survive. Growing up, you became quite the bookworm because of this disability. You found solace in the immersion of reading the words you can never speak. It gradually turned you into a very talented scholar worthy of Lisa’s attention. Your nurturing ways with books and your preservation of comfort amidst the silence certainly gained merits.

Of course, your reserved nature did not mean you are to be underestimated.

The Witch of Purple Rose chose you as her personal assistant and sole substitute for a reason. It can be argued that you are potentially more frightening. You are the calm before the storm; and when you strike, no one ever sees it coming. Whenever hooligans think they can just steal books from the restricted section, every single one will be found hogtied and gagged on the Knights of Favonius’ doorsteps. A damsel you may appear but the only distress that can be felt is by the drunkards, who think they can harrass you without direct consequences. In fact, you made it your personal vendetta to discipline every member of Barbara’s fanclub and their stalker tendencies. A failure to comply forces them into public humiliation by wearing nun attires, and then prostrating themselves in front of Barbatos to beg for forgiveness.

Venti had an interesting view when he woke up from his nap on the statue’s hands.

The job of Cavalry Captain became that much more entertaining, and easier too.

Public ordinance is now easy to handle for all the patrolling knights, whom often need to tread lightly just to appease the common folks. Although the Acting Grandmaster would never say it outloud due to her soft nature, she was thankful for this subtle measures you have been making—especially in regards to her sister’s privacy and safety. Even the stoic Master Diluc seems to respect you since he actually makes effort to greet you more than he does any other stranger in the streets. Your drinks in Angel’s Share are discounted too, which is always a plus after a long day of work. Lisa took advantage of this perk just to tease.

As he got to know you, Kaeya finally arrived to a profoundly frightening conclusion.

He was falling in love with you.

No, he may have already fallen the moment you had turned into his newest fixation. The icy captain can recall Lisa’s words—how you judge people based on the character in their eyes, if it matches the persona that speaks. You actually looked at him and saw him with just a single glance; and when his words blurred the truth, his facade was already unraveling before your piercing gaze. You rejected him because he was denying the lost boy you see, and you embraced him when the charismatic captain found felicity in your companionship. You accepted both sides even if you knew nothing about either of them.

However, for all his clever ways in manipulating the feelings of others, Kaeya is powerless at the face of his own emotions.

Hence, the reasonable thing in his perspective is to simply run away from you.

It hurt you but it was something you also understood quite well. As mentioned, you were aware of Kaeya’s true character from the get-go. It was fine if this is really what he wants. You both lived your lives just fine when keeping your respective secrets. That should not change just because romantic feelings are now involved.

Lisa and your friends firmly believed otherwise.

Your doting older sister figure tells you one day that the elusive captain left a message. He says to meet him in Windrise, where Jean had put him on patrol for suspicious activity of the Abyss Order. In a twist of fate nobody expected, they even managed to get Diluc involved to make the information appear to be legitimate. The redhead claims he was getting sick of Kaeya's face brooding over you in Angel’s Share.

All else, as they say, was history when you were both given a chance to confront the truth together.

Now, Kaeya watches over your sleeping form on his bed—tuckered out from today’s work.

You are curled up to his chest, nuzzling his clavicle like a kitten. A delightful shiver ran through his spine every time your warm breaths hit his skin. Your left arm is draped over his waist while your right hand rested over his chest. His own arm cushions your head, bent by the elbow to poise himself up while he ran his fingers through your hair. The other one holds you close by the waist, legs intertwined so no space remains. The moonlight peeks through the curtains, basking you in afterglow that left him mesmerized every night. Leaning down, his lips tenderly kissed your brow as his embrace tightened possessively.

He grins as he felt your fingers move drowsily on his back, crumpling the blouse.

“Why are you watching me sleep?”

You drew special patterns to speak, blinking your eyes open to stare blankly at your lover.

He chuckles, bending down to give you an eskimo kiss while tracing words on your back as well.

“You look too beautiful to be true.”

You hummed in the form of a soft exhale, observing your beloved closely. Your hand leaves his back and reached up to his face, tucking his fringe behind his ear to see both of his eyes. It no longer concerns him to let you see his normally hidden eye, which flickered for a fraction of a second. He disclosed everything long ago. He has nothing else to hide, not from you at least—never again from you.

In fact, the language you were both using to silently communicate is from Khaenri'ah.

Kaeya invented the sign language of it and taught it to you. In public, people think it is just a cute secret between couples; but you knew better. There is a power in words, and Kaeya had entrusted you this in particular—a piece of his true self that only you can keep. Not even Diluc knew this much about him, as their bond of brotherhood shattered before he could make an attempt. Henceforth, you use this sign to talk with him privately and send messages only for your dear captain to decipher.

As you caressed his cheek, Kaeya sighed in perfect bliss. He leans towards your touch, turning his head to press a loving kiss on your palm. His own hand reached up to keep it in place. Delicately, his index finger traces another message on your knuckles.

“You’re not just a sweet dream, are you?”

Your eyes softened in understanding, smiling in hopes to alleviate his insecurities. Your hand directs his to your heart, much like how your other one stays above his own. Two hearts beat as one, delivering a mutual confession beknownst only to you and him.

Your lips moved and his unique eyes read them as if they held the meaning of life.

“I’m real, and I’m yours.”

Unable to help himself, Kaeya changes positions to loom over you. He pins your hands by the wrist on either sides of your head. You let him, locking eyes to wait until he regains his anchor to reality. As he straddles you, he leans down and his scarred eye glows with an unknown power. For a moment, the star in his misty blue orb sharpened into a slit. Then, his grip eventually loosens. Your arms soon take the chance to slither around his neck. You pull him down to your level, sensually slow to leave him in intense anticipation. Once he is a mere breath away, you lean up and forward.

Kaeya never fails to find sanctuary in your embrace, and salvation in your kiss. The taste of ambrosia is as addictive as the first time. He wanted more—needed more, even if it meant unequivocal demise.

One of his hands seeks one of yours, pressing against the mattress to interweave. A final message is traced as you both succumb to the passion that has waged wars since the dawn of creation.

“I love you.”

If the day of reckoning ever comes for him, the last hope of Khaenri'ah knows he does not stand alone.

Kaeya will always remember to seek out your light, and savor the hour of respite in your shadow. He holds faith in no god nor archon; but before you, he shall bend the knee in devoted worship.

This lost prince of sinners may be predestined for damnation, but he prays in your name—

“You are my northern star, the light that guides me back home.”

VENTI is a bard whose secrets are guarded by the lullabies of yesteryore and evermorrow. He holds the face of jubilant youth, yet his eyes tell a tale as old as time. While his voice mellifluously sings of tunes so spirited and free, his heart weighs heavy with the burden of an untold sacrilege. A couple thousand years can be a long time, yet the agony remains as fresh as the memories of a lucid dream. As he dons a smile that hopes to brighten the days and luminate the nights of Mondstadt, his soul belies the image of a nameless friend long gone. At times when the winds blew too coldly, he relies on the burning heat that drips down his throat—a taste so fine yet so bitter, like the freedom he idolizes.

Memories remind people what matters most, a life’s purpose to never forsake. However, more often than not, they come with the cruel regrets of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Henceforth, in tiresome days, the expense of living gets a little too much; and in sleepless nights, the weight of existing gets a little heavier.

Alas, when stars align just right, the wind will lead a pair of soulmates to find one another.

In Venti’s case, you found him.

It is actually very difficult to get him drunk, even if he acts otherwise. To be precise, he recovers quicker by getting sober minutes after he felt tipsy—and then, he would be downing another bottle. It is annoying for someone who just wants to forget his problems, but that is partially why he became accustomed to binge drinking. His rate of alcohol consumption would kill an average human, via alcohol poisoning, by the time he actually blacks out.

Amidst this cold and lonely night, the windborn bard was spared an ounce of warmth by a kind muse.

Venti woke up in a peculiar cottage that smelled of pollen and varnished wood. He heard the chirping of bluebirds, rousing him further away from his drowsy haze. A ray of sunshine peeks through the hanging cheap fabric used as curtains. He sits up, braids all messy with a very entangled bedhead.

As he stumbled out of the bedroom, the familiar sounds of Der Frühling beckoned him to the front porch. His veteran ears can attest that the notes are undoubtedly produced by a musician's hands, but a mere novice in the ways of the lyre. There was a harmonious flow in melody, yet the tone and pitch held little to no finesse in-between transitions. A sense of sheepish uncertainty distorts the song, but there was a certain charm in its dissonance.

He turns a corner, and there he saw you—

—a young dame sat upon a rickety swing, taming the bluebirds that sang for her strings.

The amused bard leaned against the doorway to watch the free show. His gleaming teal eyes stared blatantly, mesmerized by his supposed hostess. You wore an outfit that resembled his, but more modest and somewhat mismatched in color palette—an odd choice for a fellow bard. The only flashy thing about you is the Anemo Vision pinned onto your hair as it tied up your headband braid. It functioned as a hair ornament surrounded with cecilia and windwheel aster petals. A teal silk ribbon was mixed into your braid as its curled tail fluttered under your Vision ornament.

You seem to be inexperienced with the lyre, as Venti had confirmed upon seeing your performance; but you are still quite precise in your play. In theory, you hold enough knowledge to figure out which note works for a particular measure. Before he realized it, his own voice begins humming alongside the chirps of the gathered songbirds.

Alas, joining your small choir of avian creatures had startled them into flying away.

You also stiffened with a surprised jolt, practically snapping your head to look back at him. He does note that it was the birds’ exit that had shocked you, and not his soundly abrupt entrance.

“Ehe~!” Venti giggled nervously, “Sorry about that.”

You fumbled for a moment yet held the lyre firmly, careful to keep it steady. Standing up, you then walk over to him even though you shook in anxiety. Ever so tenderly, you returned his dearest Der Frühling as if handing over a precious baby.

Venti finds this heartwarming and endearing, having not met a fellow bard as considerate as you. He thus receives his lyre with gratitude, tracing its frame and plucking the strings. He marvels at the fact you even polished the instrument and retuned the strings.

“Many thanks, fellow bard~!” He chirped, “My name is Venti. May I know yours?”

You stared blankly at him for a moment, as if taking a few minutes to decipher his words. He spoke a little too quickly on purpose, patiently observing if you would prove his suspicions. As soon as you finally understood, you replied with some stutters in-between your syllables. It seemed more like a sound of uncertainty rather than a speech impediment.

“I-I am…[Name].”

A deaf virtuoso—the windborn bard believes you will make an interesting friend.

Ever since that day, Venti developed a habit of either visiting your abode or seeking you to hang out in the city. His consistent presence helped you be more comfortable in conversations. There was little to no stutters in-between your sentences now. As a bard whom prided himself in knowing all music of the past and future, the art of sign language is a helpful skill he utilized to pleasantly astound you.

The bard had never seen any mortal beam so bright when you smiled at him that day.

While you have gotten comfortable with him, Venti has also grown comfortable with you. There have been many incidents wherein his smiling mask just naturally came down around you. By your side, he felt more freedom than he has ever experienced in the past centuries. He knew it was dangerous to let this continue. The god in disguise has always been meticulously aware of his own feelings; and he was more than aware that he is falling for a mortal he will someday outlive.

However, he found you hard to resist.

Neither Venti nor Barbatos can hope to deny your profoundly unconditional love. What kind of god could reject such a heartfelt offering?

Despite your penchant for playing any available instrument, you preferred not to take center stage. In fact, your hidden knack for taming avian creatures is how you earn a daily living. Every songbird in the City of Freedom knows your tunes and can chirp them on command. This is due to your Anemo Vision, which has a unique ability that enables you to interact with the birds by means of frequency. Depending on how you control the vibrations in the breeze, they will follow like a choir does with a maestro.

You once dedicated a performance to Barbatos and the Four Winds. On that day, Venti heard his wisp brethren amongst the thousand winds croon at you in delight. He witnessed the silhouette of Vennessa’s falcon form hovering above you appraisingly, and a resounding roar can also be heard from Dvalin in his proclaimed lair. There were even the echoing howls of Andrius and his pack in Wolvendom.

This leads him to discover that your true talent lies in writing music. He had seen and read your musical compositions, grinning at every single one. With your permission, he even played a few in your home as payment for your gracious hospitality.

“You can negotiate with bards for this, you know.” He proposed, “I’m no businessman; but even I know letting other musicians play this will earn you a hefty sum of mora.”

You smiled sadly, “N-Nobody…w-would acknowledge music…composed by a deaf girl.” You confessed.

Venti turned solemn as he gazed at you. Although intimidating in its rarity, you are not perturbed by this abrupt change of mood. Your darling bard wears a mask on a daily basis that blurs truth and deceit.

You have become acquainted with them all.

He hummed playfully, “Now that just won’t do.”

You tilt your head confusedly, blinking in surprise when he suddenly takes hold of your hands.

“Ehe~!” He giggled, “Let me play…all of your music, [Name]. In fact, I’ll write…a lyrical ballad…for each of them. We’ll be the best duo…in Mondstadt!”

He had to slow down his speech a bit since he could not use his hands to help you keep up.

Thus, a new routine began for you two.

Venti kept his word. For the next few months, he only sang of the tunes you composed. A few of his regular listeners heard the slightest change in his playstyle. A part of him wished to smile bitterly as other bards and occasional playwrights praised his talent. He pettily made sure to charge thrice from them when he was requested for encores. These fools had rejected you just because of your disability yet they literally sing praises when he played your creations. Any artist worth their salt should have been able to see your potential at a glance.

Nevertheless, he ensured to always come home to you with bags full of mora whenever he plays your music in particular. You deserve nothing less than that, and he refuses to settle for anything else.

Regardless of this success, Venti recognized the melancholy in your eyes. You used to smile radiantly every time you watched him play. Your ears cannot hear the notes but you can feel the vibrations in the air. Your beguiling eyes relished the perfection of just watching Venti play to his heart’s content.

However, he was not blind to your inner turmoil and thus sought to relieve it.

“What’s wrong, Windblume?” He asked.

You hesitate, looking down at your feet. Gently, he props a finger under your chin to raise your head. A tender smile of encouragement implored you to speak your thoughts freely.

“I’m…frustrated.” You replied.

He says nothing but his smile does falter to a glaze of concern, waiting patiently to let you finish.

“I feel…so happy and grateful…when you play my songs.” You confided, “It’s finally being heard…and not just through the songbirds. People are now listening…to how it is supposed to be heard, and how I envisioned it to be played.”

Tears gather in your lovely eyes, overflowing with emotions too much for your heart. Your darling bard does not waver. He raises a hand to cup your cheek in his palm while his fingertips swept your sorrows.

“I want to…” you sobbed, “I want to hear you too!”

Venti held you protectively close, wishing more than anything else to shield you from this wild tempest of emotions. Alas, he was more than aware of the truth that the loveliest of rainbows can only come after the harshest storm. These are the feelings that must have festered for so long within you. People who can hear cruelly turn deaf to the ones whose worlds have been rendered silent. It was as if they do not deserve a voice if they knew not how it sounds. The thought infuriates the bard, reminding him of your beautiful songs discarded as nothing more than the passing chirps of songbirds.

He used his talents to let your ballads be heard.

Perhaps, he can use a different set of talents to let you hear his own?

You gripped onto Venti as if he was your lifeline, a part of you crumbling in sheer relief. He has always encouraged you to never be ashamed of what and how you feel. Whether it be deemed good or bad, all of it belonged to you. They make you human, the reason why he adores you above all. His gentle hand carded through your hair, skillful as when he plucks and strums the strings of Der Frühling. Pulling away slightly, his lips rested upon your temple and then your forehead. They stray towards your cheeks, a taste of salt from your tears.

Lastly, they hover above your own lips—centimeters apart, just a breath before they touch.

Teal eyes glow a shimmering green, both of you becoming enraptured by each other.

Venti needed you to say no more.

He takes you in his arms and spreads his wings. He delivers you to Windrise and its special tree, trusting him so wholly that you did not question him. Instead, you melted in his arms and enjoyed the warm breeze that wrapped around you like a blanket.

Once he sits you down beneath the tree, Venti sits in front of you to place one of your hands right above his heart. It beats steadily yet faintly, present yet not quite—like the wind he controls. He summons Der Frühling and smiles lovingly at you. The crystalflies illuminate his youthful features, providing a mystical glow that enthralls his dearest muse.

“Eyes on me, meine liebe.” He mouths.

Closing his eyes, he begins his private performance.

You frown, wondering what he means to prove with this. Still, you obliged his wishes and kept your eyes solely on him. Your hand remained where he placed it, right over the constant beating of his heart.

Then, you finally noticed the gathering streams of energy around yourself and your lover.

Your Anemo Vision began to glow alongside Venti’s iconic braids. The winds hummed together with him, united under his influence. It is an enchanting image, dazzling you into stunned admiration.

Then, you finally hear him—vocalizing the precious melody you dedicated to him alone. He sang of his past, his present, and his future which are now all intertwined by the whispers of you.

/Gales of song, please stay by my side/

He opens his eyes and releases his lyre. It plays as it floats, and you are mesmerized by how you can hear it all. By power of anemo, he merges your heart with his while enabling your psalm to be immortalized amongst the winds. He reaches up a hand to keep yours on his chest while its pair entangles with the other. His forehead leans on yours, gaze softening as you wept in bliss.

White feathers rained down on the landscape of green and blue. Floating lights illuminated the dark, be they stars or crystalflies. The Statue of the Seven sung in accompaniment to the intimate confessions of Barbatos—to you and for you.

/Winds of love, breathe into my life/

You can hear him so clearly—his regrets, his woes, his dreams, and his love. You hear it all through the song you composed at the thought of him, which he plays at the memory of you.

A fated parting shall occur someday, but he will love no other the way he loves you.

Therefore, with a passionate kiss, he makes you a promise—

“Come what may, you are the melody my heart will always sing.”

DAINSLEIF perseveres as a maverick shaped by his resolutions and driven by conviction. After enduring five centuries, he has earned a fair few titles as his new names. However, these remnants can never piece together his whole existence. As the Twilight Sword, there is no longer a Khaenri'ah to consider as his homeland to protect. As the Bough Keeper, there is no true grace to his purpose while burdened by a curse that shall someday rob him of his own mind and soul. In the eyes of Celestia, he is no more than a sinner doomed to a fate which can be argued as worse than death. As for the rest of the world, he is no more than a listless wanderer whom holds an obsession with stopping a disgrace known as the Abyss Order.

To honor those he had failed in his homeland, he can only move forward in the best way he knew—even if it is against those he had formerly served. Souls of the condemned hold no genuine hope of ascending to Celestia, for they amount to nothing more than heretics that do not worship any god. Therefore, for those who dare to remember, erosion will befall upon them as a final kiss of damnation. Before that day comes for him, this foolish score must be settled so he can meet his demise without regrets.

There is no genuine reward at the end of this tedious and lonesome quest. He is aware.

Nonetheless, the accursed immortal human refuses to falter under the taunt of judgment. If damnation is what shall meet him at the end of this quest, then he shall do it on his own terms. For if he must also end without his resolve, then there will truly be nothing left of him and Khaenri'ah.

There had been instances aplenty wherein the divine is likened to the flowers blossoming across Teyvat; and as a lonesome wanderer, he has grown accustomed to these tragic folklores.

The God of Dust named Guizhong left behind a quiet legacy amongst the glaze lilies. Songs which keep them abloom become tributes to her name.

The Goddess of Flowers known as Nabu Malikata had left her remnants within the padisarahs. Even if not as they were anymore, they serve as a memoir.

Godless they may have been, the glorious nation of Khaenri'ah also held pride over a particular flower—the Inteyvat. Alas, nobody but the former Twilight Sword retains the awareness to recall whom they represent the most.

“My memory has all but faded completely,” a voice murmurs piously, “but I will always remember how much she too loved these flowers.”

Dainsleif spoke not of Lumine here, although she does remind him of the one he reminisces. He dares say travelling with her had been the closest to home, a feeling of warm comfort. However, it never was the same exact happiness he sought in another—a mere ghost in his past. The lost historical relics in Sumeru speak of her as the last Eclipse Princess, whom was hailed as the Heretic Saintess. However, to him, she was the woman he dearly cherishes to this day…

…and the one he laments most for failing to protect in the bout of cataclysmic calamity.

Indeed, the Bough Keeper realizes; this accursed immortality is a fitting punishment for what Celestia deems a sinner. For he can forsake everything, but anything he has left of her will vividly linger. The doomsday of his own reckoning shall be when that too is ripped away from him.

Until then, he will dream of her. Until then, he will foolishly hope for the day they meet again.

Then, like a prayer to a nonexistent god, answers came in the ethereal form of you.

You met Dainsleif on a stormy night. In fact, he just found your cabin in the woods to seek a temporary shelter—injured and knocked unconscious. He was already half-delirious from a high fever, and it did not take a genius to know the man had a rough week. It is not out of kindness that you nursed him back to health, but due to a selfish motive to figure him out.

“Who are you?” You mumbled.

It seems he was not entirely out of it since he still managed to respond clearly.

“Dain…sleif…”

As soon as he muttered back, he eventually fell limp in your arms. For those brief seconds, there was a swelling ache upon your chest—nostalgia. A chilling tingle ran through your spine, like the touch of an invasive ghost on your skin—melancholy. Then, it spreads as smoldering heat to your veins as if to ignite your bloodstream—passion.

“Dainsleif, huh?”

The name felt like velvet on your tongue. His clothes and features were all too familiar to you—a fellow kinsman from Khaenri'ah. However, your eidetic memory never once brought you to a conclusion about this man’s identity. Regardless, your body reacts as if begging for your mind to catch up in recognition.

Even as you tended to him, nothing clicked.

“Your Highness…”

His voice weakly called, raspy and strained as if to choke it out. Your star-shaped pupils dilate as they meet his own hazy glare. His hand was reaching out to you, looking yet not truly seeing.

Alas, you made no move to truly stop him and remained awkwardly staring back.

“You’re dreaming, Sir Dainsleif.”

As if hearing his name from you brought comfort, he settles down again. His eyes start to close but now his hand found yours resting by his bedside. You recoiled yet his grip was oddly firm for a deeply ill patient. Perhaps, you can allow this until he gets some real rest.

When he recovered, Dainsleif vanished as abruptly as he barged into your life.

The next time you met again, it was your turn to be the one in need.

Dainsleif finds you in a clearing of soot and frost, holding a young man desperately. It was as if a clash of fire and ice had occurred under the rain. You look up to him, stars in your eyes shimmering with panic and sorrow. Without a word, he aids you by carrying the unconscious male and leading you back to the cabin. You made no reaction other than grasping onto his cloak tightly, like a lost child.

Despite not wishing to overstay his welcome, the Bough Keeper chose to stay for the night. You were unresponsive to him, as if your mind had shut down completely. A vague memory of a person so similar to you made Dainsleif familiar to the situation. Thus, the task of healing your patient fell to him until you could regain your composure.

“Please be well, Kaeya.” You murmured.

Dainsleif did not pry about your business, giving you the same respect you had done for his privacy. It did, however, astonish him when you took hold of his wrist and dragged him outside with you the next day.

The man named Kaeya stirred awake.

Befuddled, the former Twilight Sword kept silent as he watched from afar with you. Kaeya ate the warm meal you prepared on the table, and mixed emotions flickered in his eyes as he did. His head turned to observe everything in the cabin, searching almost as desperately as you appeared last night. Numerous dreamcatchers and embroideries decorate the walls in a contradictingly systematic manner. The more he analyzed, the more he remembered his childhood—as if your crafts gave him pieces of long forgotten memories. Then, he slowly stood up and made his way to a periwinkle dreamcatcher designed with a pavo ocellus constellation.

A single silver-blue eye gazed out the window, nearly catching your own gaze—

—but you ducked down behind the huge boulders and pulled Dainsleif with you to hide.

Kaeya got his things back and left a small note of gratitude for your care. Wordlessly, he left the cabin with the dreamcatcher now hanging on his belt—right beside his Cryo Vision. He looked back over his shoulder only once to give a bittersweet smile.

“Farewell, sis.” He whispered.

A humming zephyr delivered his message, and then he went back to Mondstadt.

Dainsleif sat down beside you for an entire hour, a mix of pity and empathy. When clarity returned to your eyes, he rose to take his leave. Once again, he was halted on his tracks by your hand grabbing onto his own gloved one.

“Hey,” you said, “do you mind if I go with you?”

Against his better judgment, the cursed immortal agreed after a minute of contemplation.

This newfound journey together has a very tedious beginning, mostly attributed to you. Everything was strange and nothing felt safe, which was expected because you both never stayed in one place. You, whom sought solace in consistency, were always forced to adapt to something new. Sleeping became a chore because you felt every small pebble and thin blade of grass pressing against you. It is by the mere thoughtfulness of your companion that you got a semblance of rest. Dainsleif always covered you in his cape and was willing to hold you soothingly, as if he knows just how to calm you down. There has been moments wherein you had tantrums, and some meltdowns that delayed some plans. Other days, you shut down completely and only wake back up to reality after a day or two.

Dainsleif was shockingly very patient with you, never berating and ready to soothe whenever you are in distress. He never once pushed you to go back. Only once, he offered to take you somewhere to settle after a very bad episode.

“No, I can’t!” You exclaimed, “I have to keep moving. I have to…keep going. Make sure…nobody finds me.”

It was unspoken that you were specifically running away from the City of Freedom, all for avoiding your your younger brother. There is a destiny that kept you both apart even when you mutually wish to be reunited. As children of Khaenri'ah, the former knight can take a guess what that sort of fate presents.

Since then, your travel companion did not question your decision anymore.

Without prompting, Dainsleif seemed used to your symptoms. It was almost eerie how he knew exactly what to say and do in every situation that involved your condition. He makes effort to prepare the same meals that you wish to have every day, and only light fruit snacks at night because you get very restless otherwise. At times he wanted to keep going, he stops himself to make camp for you first on the same evening hour before scouting ahead. He only allows himself to be gone for exactly 45 minutes, which was your limit to being alone whenever you both decide to camp out rather than checking into an inn or hotel. Whenever a wave of unease hits, he keeps a bag of materials that either lets you weave dreamcatchers or tinker an antique you scavenged in the ruins you passed. Every time your mind begins to close off, he sits down with you and holds your hands to meditate. When you need space, he keeps his distance; and when you need companionship, he keeps you close.

“How?” You ask.

Dainsleif raises a brow as he looks down at you. It was in the middle of Lantern Rite as you both watch the festivities from a nearby hill. After indulging in a few stalls, you calmed by playing with his fingers as your head rested on his lap. He knows the meaning to your one-worded inquiry, and he wonders how to answer you truthfully.

“I knew someone similar to you.” He said.

You sat up before blankly staring into his eyes, stars meeting stars. Tilting your head, a flash of curiosity brought light to your emotionless gaze.

“The princess…?” You asked.

The Bough Keeper blinked in surprise.

“You dreamed of her a lot when we first met.”

Your statement made him look away bashfully, a bit embarrassed to be reminded.

“Was she important to you?” You asked.

At this, he looks at you in the eyes. His star-shaped pupils practically gleam with an emotion you could not read—or perhaps, could not comprehend.

“She is my dearest one.” He declared.

Normal people probably would have felt jealous at that confession. He even used a present tense to show that his feelings have not wavered.

You and Dainsleif never gave a label to this peculiar relationship, but you hold a mutual understanding that it had grown to more than just friends. It was a development nurtured by meaningful exchanges and secretive affections. The sentiments are far from platonic or familial, that much is sure.

That night, when you released a lantern, you made a fleeting wish—

—not to the gods, but to the princess.

“Please look after Dainsleif.”

Meanwhile, the Twilight Sword fondly gazes upon your form. The image of your past self overlaps with the present. He recalls the ever sleepless nights of guarding you in the tower. Starlight showered upon your figure leaning by the windowframe. Delicate hands reach out to set free artificial crystalflies that glow as wisps of moonlight. A breath of laughter is echoed in the lonely room, and then he is blessed by a smile more divine than Celestia.

The memory flickers as the silver starlights are replaced by golden lanterns, and your humble self stood in place of the estranged saintess—

—but that smile remains.

Morning welcomed Dainsleif with the strange sight of you looming over him. With practiced ease, he resumes calm as he let you do as you please like it was nothing unusual. He knows of your quirks just as you are aware of his boundaries. There is mutual trust of consent that tells which actions would be acceptable anytime. He did gulp a little nervously as his drowsy eyes analyzed you. His hands twitched but he willed them to stay in place despite his inner yearning.

Disheveled, you were straddling him while still in your nightgown. Your hair was messily draped over your shoulders, creating a curtain around the blond man beneath you. A glazed veil engulfs your eyes like a dreamy countenance of a faraway reverie.

“Dain…”

“What is it, [Name]?”

“I had a dream last night.”

“A dream, you say?”

You nod, leaning down almost conspirationally yet the expression on your face remains unreadable. A gasp hitched in his throat as your lips strayed to his ear, whispering shakily—

“I remember, Dain.”

Realization struck him.

Dainsleif switches positions with you yet he receives no protest. His ungloved hands cup your face in order to meet your eyes with his own beseeching pair. You see his visage, unmasked and vulnerable, that longingly wish for your approval.

You nodded.

Dainsleif claims your lips in ardent greed, and you responded in eager devotion.

Intertwined, redamancy is bliss for the reunited knight and his only princess—

“Your heart is the only other half that can ever complete mine.”

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Hello! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to five other writers 🥰

Thanks for the nomination, Angela! 💙💜

Since I got started in 2009, I've written tons of fanfictions and I love all of them, but I will only include those I posted on AO3 because I deem the ones from before as no longer relevant (plus the old ones were in my first language lol). That means I only have Yuri!!! On Ice fanfictions on this shameless self-rec list.

Because the Hydrangeas weren't yet in Bloom - a one-shot about Japanese flower language and how it applies to Yuuri's and Viktor's gala costumes

A Song of Fiery Birds and Endless Winter - a cute little romance that explores "what if Yuuri and Viktor meet at the Olympics?" with lots of figure skating including homages to the skaters that inspired the YOI characters, and a sensible presentation of mental illnesses. It's my only non-canonical YOI fanfiction albeit still canon-verse. Ended up in an anti-rec collection because Yuuri was too fanboyish (make of that what you want).

The Instruments are in Harmony - a one-shot about the making of Yuuri's free programme

Beneath the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights - a multi-chapter narration about Viktor fighting depression and creative burnout right before he became Yuuri's coach. Although this story flopped gloriously, it's very dear to my heart not only because Vitya is but because I wrote the whole draft during a time when I contemplated stopping writing for good.

Last but not least, my special extended novelisation Can You Hear My Heartbeat, which is my love letter to Yuri!!! On Ice. Prepare yourself for flirty coaches, hanging out that's actually dating, Japanese culture, fantastic figure skating, awkward actual dates, steamy dancing lessons, explorations of sexuality, kinky!Eros and a loong summer of mutual pining.

[libradoodle1]

Our Secret | Jonerys Orgasmic October 2023

Day 4: How wet can you get? Prompt: Dirty talk

Summary: Like Cinderella, poor Dany is stuck with a wicked stepmother after her father's death. Resigned to being Cersei's servant, everything changes when her new stepdaddy Jon Snow enters her life.

A classic tale that's dirtier than the Disney version and the only Fairy Godmother here is a shameless writer ready to give them their hornier, happily ever after.

-a gift for my dear friend @qyburnsghost. It ain't DaddyAemond, but it does have some dirty stuff like cheating, age difference, and a slew of other things I'm way too embarrassed to write here. Hope you like it 😘

Read it here on AO3

@snowxstormworld

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Francis Drake Main Story

This is a rough translation. I’ll edit this if I find the time. Expect mistakes.

Would it be a betrayal to carry on this love?

Like the shore of a calm sea, it clung to my heart and shattered my feelings like a raging storm.

(I...)

I tightly grasped the fate entrusted to my hands.

With a snap, colorful fireworks burst against the clear blue sky.

Mitsuki: "Wow! Even the fireworks in the daytime are beautiful."

Napoleon: "Yeah. The weather's good, and there's a lively crowd here again today."

Petals were dancing in the air, and everyone was smiling and having a good time as the mansion's residents visited the venue of the World Expo in Paris.

Leonardo: "Some acquaintances of mine have mentioned that there are people similar to us who have visited multiple times."

Napoleon: "Makes sense. There's so much to see that visiting only once wouldn't do it justice."

Arthur: "Mitsuki, how about coming here alone with me next time? You know, like a date?"

Mitsuki: "Hmm, I'm flattered by the invitation, but I'll think about it."

Theo: "It seems that frivolous writers only focus on flirting when they come to a place like this."

Theo: "Broer, let's take some time to admire the paintings. Hmm? Broer, where are you?"

Vincent: "Theo, over here! Let's try riding the moving walkway!"

(Hehe, it's rare for everyone to go out together. They all seem excited.)

(Hmm?)

I smiled and suddenly saw a couple wearing kimonos pass by me.

(Japan, huh?)

I felt a sense of nostalgia and remembered when I first arrived in this era.

I traveled from Japan to France for a vacation in the 21st century.

During this trip, I slipped through a mysterious door I found at the Louvre Museum and time-slipped to 19th-century Paris, where I met historical figures from different countries and eras who live as vampires at a mansion I arrived at.

Napoleon: "Hey, Mitsuki. Is something wrong?"

Mitsuki: "Sorry, I was just spacing out."

Napoleon: "Geez, you're supposed to enjoy yourself today. If you just sit there, we'll leave you behind."

Mitsuki: "Wait, Napoleon!"

I smiled and hurriedly chased after Napoleon, who laughed wickedly, leaving behind a nostalgic feeling that touched my heart.

A few days later一

Mitsuki: "I'm back! Huh?"

Charles: "Welcome back, Mitsuki! Do you want to take a bath? Eat something? Or me? It's me, right?"

Faust: "Stop being so shameless, Charles."

Among the faces that greeted me when I returned from shopping were Faust and Charles.

They live in an old castle and would occasionally visit like this.

Mitsuki: "Welcome, both of you. What brings you here today?"

Faust: "We accompanied Lord Vlad for some business. I thought I'd also give the butler some medicine."

Sebastian: "Thank you as always, Faust."

At one point, Sebastian fell ill, and Faust prescribed him a special medicine.

Since then, Faust has occasionally checked on his condition, and Sebastian no longer complains of discomfort.

(He said he was just the right test subject for the new drug, but I'm glad Sebastian is feeling better.)

Charles: "I have a souvenir for you, Dazai. The teacher at the orphanage wants you to create a children's story."

Dazai: "Oh dear, I thought you were going to give me some delicious sweets, but it's about work."

Isaac: "Shouldn't you be grateful? Even a flaky person like you can at least be somewhat useful."

Dazai and Charles seemed to run into each other often in town and had become quite friendly.

I even sometimes saw Isaac getting caught up in their shenanigans.

Jean: "I thought it was noisy, but I didn't realize you guys were here."

Mozart: "*sigh* Has this mansion become a gathering place for vampires?"

Shakespeare: "*chuckles* The number of residents and visitors has increased so much. It's completely different from when I lived here."

Jean, Mozart, and Shakespeare came to the dining room.

Mitsuki: "I didn't know you were here, too, Shakespeare. By the way, I heard you have a new play."

Shakespeare: "I'm honored that you remembered. I came here to deliver the tickets."

Shakespeare: "My business here is done. Mitsuki, Vlad, and Comte are asking for you."

Shakespeare: "They have something they want to talk about."

(Talk?)

In the dark, quiet hallway lined with paintings, sculptures, and various antiques from different countries and eras, the sound of footsteps echoed.

The man making those footsteps lightly stroked the handle of the knife hanging at his waist with his fingertips and grinned.

Mitsuki: "Phew. The night breeze feels good."

I stepped out onto the balcony and enjoyed the coolness of the air that soothed my slightly flushed skin after having some alcohol.

The impromptu dinner party that was hastily organized because everyone had gathered together ended when Faust and Charles took Vlad, who had drunk too much wine and collapsed, home.

(Another fun day, thanks to everyone being here.)

As I thought this, I remembered what Comte and Vlad had told me earlier.

------------Flashback------------

Comte: "I've been checking the status of that door, but the other side is still not stable."

Vlad: "The door at my old castle is the same."

Comte: “The hallway appears as it cycles between abnormal and normal, but sometimes the time and space beyond it are distorted. I don't think I can send you back to your original world.”

Vlad: "I'm sorry, Mitsuki. The cause of the anomaly might be us."

Mitsuki: "What do you mean?"

Vlad: "That hallway connects to various eras. The fact that the space is distorted means that distortions are occurring in history and the world."

Their love for this world drove them to revive eternal flowers and transform historical figures into vampires, contradicting the laws of the world.

They explained that this action might be influencing the proper course of history, resulting in a warping of time and space.

Mitsuki: “No, I’m grateful that you’re investigating. But isn’t there danger involved in checking the door?”

Mitsuki: “Please don’t push yourself too hard. It’d hurt me if something were to happen to the two of you.”

Vlad: “Mitsuki.”

(Also...)

Mitsuki: “As I met everyone and spent all those precious days with them, I began to feel like this 19th century is another place I belong.”

Mitsuki: “Even if I can’t return to the 21st century, I think living here might be my destiny.”

(So please don’t worry about me.)

I conveyed this, and both Comte and Vlad nodded as if they understood my feelings.

---------Flashback Ends---------

(I really mean what I said back then.)

(Staying in this world is also one way of living for me.)

I’m fortunate to have food, shelter, and clothing, all thanks to the help of everyone in the mansion. But even considering that gratitude, everyone I’ve met has become incredibly important to me.

(I love this world. It’s a precious place for me, but...)

My feet were naturally heading towards that door.

(The world I used to live in is beyond that door.)

Thoughts of family, friends, and work that had become distant crossed my mind, and a hazy mist spread across my chest.

(If the door’s anomaly doesn’t get fixed, I have no other choice but to choose to live here.)

I do feel that way, but I don’t think it’s right to choose to live here just because there’s no other choice.

(If I keep having these negative thoughts, everyone will worry again.)

I shook my head to dispel the negative thoughts and turned my back to the door.

At that moment, I heard a creaking sound from behind.

(Huh?)

I turned around, and the door, which no one had touched, slowly opened before me.

Mitsuki: “Kyaah!?”

Then something flew out of the gap.

(Was that a bird just now!?)

Although I couldn’t see it clearly, a vivid red bird crossed my field of vision.

I followed it with my eyes, but suddenly my body was forcefully pulled back, and something cold touched my neck.

It was a dull, gleaming knife.

(---!?)

???: “The woman of destiny.”

I heard a whisper up close and felt a hand grab me, along with the presence of someone behind me.

Fear swelled within me at this sudden situation, and I turned around cautiously to meet the gaze of clear aquamarine eyes.

???: “Don’t move. This thing can cut through anything.”

???: “I’m not going to take anything away from you. Where is this place, and who are you?”

Mitsuki: “This is a mansion in 19th-century Paris. I’m Mitsuki, one of the residents.”

Mitsuki: “Who are you?”

I spoke the words in a trembling voice, and the man restraining me stared at me with unreadable eyes.

Drake: "I'm Francis. Francis Drake."

(Francis?)

Even though I heard the name, I had no idea who he was, so I continued to tense up.

Suddenly, the man let out a sigh, easing the tension.

Drake: "You've been trembling this whole time. Well, given the situation, I guess that's understandable."

Drake: "I suddenly ended up in a place like this, so I'm also confused as hell."

Drake: "Don't be too scared, little fawn."

For some reason, he called me that and grinned mischievously.

【 Masterlist ╎ Next Part 】

[cynical-gamer-media]

Happy 5th Anniversary to FE3H, a Game That Changed My Life

It is no exaggeration to say this game changed my life.

In 2019, pre-release, I wrote headcanons during the time about characters, friendships, romances, scenarios, AU, etc. I just decided one day to give it a go. I never imagined doing it but yeah! There were a few others who were writing headcanon lists too, and it was fun going back and forth with them. I got popular enough that people made suggestions if I could write headcanons about 'x, y, z'. It was an extremely fun time! I continued with the headcanons until late 2020.

(Alas headcanons and people suggesting ideas is a dead art unfortunately.)

I also wrote Tumblr drabbles about all manner of scenarios! The game made me rediscover my love for writing. I always enjoyed writing, but I lost that love--it was more of 'I like doing this, but I wish I could love it again'. It also made me get back into writing fanfiction. For years I thought I would not go back to those days, but I came back in full force (even 5 years on)

I wrote my very first gift fic to a headcanoner like me (it became the literal first 'Byleth Eisner & Jeralt Eisner' fic on AO3)! I literally wrote the very first 'Edelgard von Hresvelg/Dorothea Arnault' (Edelthea) fic ever on AO3!

From release date I kept writing fics. I wrote a multi-chapter fics. I wrote a smut, and I never thought I would: but funnily enough through reading FE3H AO3 smut it showed me that it can be an amazing way to flesh characters. And shameless smut is great as well!

I was never actively involved in fandom like this. I wrote fics in the past but left it at that. But I interacted with people and enjoyed it!

The very first discord I joined was based on FE3H. I didn't even know what a discord was until someone I went back and forth with invited and told me about. I never thought I would join something like that, but I did.

During 2019-2020 I received fanart for my drabbles, based on headcanons, and on fics. I had some comments say I single-handedly got them into Edelgard/Claude (Edelclaude) through my multi-chapter fic 'The Eagle and Deer Walk Parallel Paths'.

2020 I ran the very first Edelthea Week! I never imagined I would ever run a fandom event, and that I would also create a Twitter for it! I tried to run an EdeltheaNSFW Week but it failed twice, but that was a fantastic lesson: not all weeks are destined to succeed!

I participated in fan weeks, such as 'FE3H LGBT Week', 'Edelclaude Week 2020' & 'FE3H Polyship Week'. I tried out a big bang but had to step down, but I tried it!

Few months later I was invited to be a social media mod for the Edelthea Fanzine 'To a Brighter Dawn'. I said yes. I also became a writer contributor. I never imagined joining a fanzine ever, as a contributor and especially as a mod.

Not much happened fandom wise in 2021 due to stuff. I lose the will to write (in everything). BUT I put my hand up for the 'Choose to Prevail: An Adrestian Trio Fanzine' towards the end of the year and got in!

2022 and 'Fire Emblem Warriors: Three Hopes' is announced. Eventually I got back into a active fandom role, having overcome 2021. I made dear friends through our love of FE3H that year. I ran Edelthea Week again! I participated in fan weeks again! I started writing two fics that have become near and dear to me: 'Can There Still Be a Brighter Dawn?' and 'The Eagle Who Must Leave Her Nest'.

2023 kept contact with friends. I assisted a friend of mine @laminecuisine (and made a new companion) to run 'Edelgard Rarepair Week'! First time co-running something, and it was fantastic!

2024. Made new friends through FE3H, and kept old ones too. Wrote a collab fanfic with amazing friend @laminecuisine! Ran the third Edelthea Week, am co-running 'Edelgard Rarepair Week 2024', AND will co-run 'FE3H Polyship Week/Weekend 2024'.

FE3H helped me overcome obstacles throughout my life. It brought joy throughout my life. It made me get out there (safely) in the world to interact with others and make friends through some, and acquaintances with others. Throughout these years I have participated in many fan weeks, I joined discords, put my hand up for fanzines, interacted with others, and so forth.

FE3H means so much to me. It has its flaws, absolutely, and problems in the fandom, but when you curate your experiences then you can meet some of the loveliest and most open-minded people out there. I am still a fan, and will be now and forever.

Thank you FE3H: for existing, giving me the gentle nudges to get involved, for rediscovering my love of writing, and trying things I never thought I would do and enjoy.

[transsexual-dandelions]

Tagged by @iandarling and @mybrainismelted (and @em-harlsnow !! Adding this retroactively I hope tumblr gives u the notif. Goofy as hellsite) thank u !! This was very fun and i appreciate it :)

Favorite fictional character from a movie: Steve rogers or Peter Parker (I’m a bitch for marvel)

Favorite fictional character from a TV show: dean winchester, Mickey milkovich, lip Gallagher next question (honorable mention: foggy Nelson I love u ALSO grace from 911 lonestar)

Favorite fictional character of all time: dean winchester (where do u think I got the name) (honorable mention: ethoslab and bdubs)

If you could be irl friends with any three fictional characters, who?: Mickey milkovich, dean winchester, Castiel (I can’t explain it, something something similar upbringing + I want to hear cas talk about bees please and thank u)

Favorite fictional couple: destiel (sorry gallavich, I love them dearly but have u ever been gaslight by the writers. Unparalleled media experience)

Okay, you can only choose one fictional character to get stranded on and island with: hmmm tie between dean and Sam winchester (12x09 first blood i love u)

one fictional world you would hate to be a part of: dear god don’t put me in supernatural all the queer people die

One fictional world you would love to be a part of: hmmm basically there to shameless if I didn’t live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere so when in Rome !! (Honorable mention: any hermitcraft season. Except season eight. Moon big scares me)

your “HEAR ME OUT” fictional couple: destiel in the fact that it’s like. The most batshit story you could imagine. Whatever you’re expecting you’re wrong. But not the traditional hear me out. They just need many layers of explanation

And finally, something you’re looking forward to this week: I have a scholarship interview Friday!! I’m fucking terrified but I love my college campus !! All the cherry blossom trees are blooming and it’s soooo pretty

Tagging: @onthepyre @atthedugouts @lupeloto @astaraels @transmickey @jademickian @hazeisblue @especially-fuk-u and anyone else who wants to !! Also no pressure !!

[mrs-monaghan]

I came here for jikook and now I’m watching shameless for some gallavich 😂

OH MY GOD YES!!!!

See, I am a professional coach potato. I don't think you understand what that means, i don't leave the house. I sit and binge watch things when I'm off. The TV is my best friend. He he heee.. I don't do movies because they end too quickly so I prefer series and I have seen so many things in my lifetime but I have never seen anything like Shameless. (US version not the original UK one. All 10 seasons on Netflix)

It is amazing and incredible and so fucking RAW and good. It is so relatable.... real life in a nutshell. So this is the best decision you could have ever made.

And then there is Gallavich. You know how I've mentioned the amount of shows that I've seen? Well no couple gay or straight even comes close to measuring up to them. IMHO. They make you cry, they make you laugh, they make you proper invested. And it doesn't hurt that Ian looks like this

Played my Cameron Monaghan thus my name 😁

Due to politics season 7 and 8 are not the best. But dw. Season 9 n 10 are not bad. But once again due to behind the scenes politics season 1 to 7 are the really good ones. But for a Gallavich stan they might be a bit sad since Mickey is missing for seasons 6, 7 and 8 but he comes back in season 9 because we wouldn't let producers and writers breathe till they brought the actor back.

Happy watching my dear. You won't regret it. All main characters are great. You will love it.

Don't watch it with your mom unless you wanna explain why there's a dick in the pilot episode and you just started. 😂😂

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

violently smashing my two major fandoms with an F together as a form of procrastination

A question for the ages: WHICH Avatar character matches up with WHICH Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle one and WHY the fuck should anyone (besides me) care? We'll answer at least one of those questions for you tonight, dear viewers!!!!

First up

Neteyam - Leo

Eldest son, blue theme (like I could say this for all the Sullys, but shush), can do no wrong except when one of the siblings stubs a toe and then the Guilt, daddy's favorite solider who's also a huge dork (like we don't see a lot of evidence of this in canon for Neteyam but let me have this), Neteyam's Untimely End vs Leo getting treated as such a punching bag by each TMNT iteration that throwing him through a goddamn window is an established franchise staple by now.

Kiri - Donnie

A case can be made for April-Kiri parallels (particularly for psychic powers re 2012 April, my beloved, and dead mom syndrome) and also Karai-Kiri (for dead mom syndrome, how often I've mixed up their fucking names while writing), but Kiri-Donnie fits the siblings theme, so there. They're tech nerd-nature nerd solidarity, autistic Entities of unparalleled death and destruction, happy to destroy government property, younger siblings pretending to be above the Chaos while very much not, and in desperate need of a nap and a stiff drink.

Lo'ak - Raph

Rage issues. Daddy issues. Big brother issues. Relatively smol and Keenly aware of that fact. Adored by the (smart) fans, cursed by Eywa/God. Makes strong bonds with animal fwends and also collects traumatic experiences like magnets collect nails. 100% either in a fistfight or sobbing into his pillow rn. In a family living at the bottom of a fucking sewer and/or on the run from the government, still manages to feel like an odd one out. Someone needs to introduce Lo'ak to emo music, it would fuck him up so much /pos.

Tuk - Mikey

Youngest and most excitable sibling, heart of gold and jaws of steel. Optimism that remains in the face of innocence slowly being shaved away by Events. Hates being left out or left behind, committed to various Schemes and Plans with historically mixed outcomes. Has definitely either killed a man or will do so as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

Spider - Karai and April

Spider's kind of an unholy amalgamation of April's Token Human We've Shared Traumatic Experiences With journey and Karai's At Odds With Creepy Undead Father Figure And Complex Relationship With Less Creepy Father Figure (see below) arcs. Basically part of my ongoing psyops plans to Feminize That Boy (don't worry Karai-Kiri and April-Kiri parallels, I still love you). Also, Leorai/Apritello and Speteyam/Spiri (mix and match at will) have exciting interspecies and/or vaguely incestous vibes we should all strive for in our weird fanfics.

Jake - Splinter/Hamato Yoshi

Tired dads trying their best and just so happening to raise The Kids as soldiers-warriors along the way. Exciting and confusing relationships with the concept of this thing you call "death." Shameless species hoppers, even though Jake did it on purpose while TMNT writers in various iterations have to come up with increasingly more convoluted ways for it to happen to Yoshi against his will. Is not afraid of violence, especially when it comes to their homoerotically homicidal relationship with

Quaritch - Shredder

Big Bad of the story, or at least the one everybody pays attention to. The Bitch Who Refuses To Die. Unhealthy, possessive, genuinely quite creepy (/pos) obsession with sort-of-kid who ended up in his care through Unfortunate Means. Will destroy everything he remotely cares about and sit in the ashes with surprised Pichaku face before finding someone to blame. Refuses to let go of a fucking grudge, be it with aforementioned homoerotic-homicide buddy or various children.

Neytiri

Technically the best Neytiri parallel in terms of family relationships would be Tang Shen, Splinter's wife and the pseudo/actual (depending on the iteration) mother of his children. However, Tang Shen has an unfortunate history of being Dead Girled and Ghost-Momed in a way that puts her more in common with Grace or Tom Sully (rip). Still, Neytiri has a lot in common with the vengeful demon ghost version of Tang Shen that exists primarily in my head.

BONUS

Payakan - Casey Jones

Outcast from society, defender of the weak, wanted by the authorities. Combines genuinely passionate belief in justice/revenge with an equally genuine talent for wanton violence and destruction. Has an interspecies bromance with Lo'ak/Raph that puts Achilles and Patrocles to shame. Someone definitely needs to introduce Payakan to emo music, too, not to mention death metal--he'd start a band to put those Little Mermaid fuckers to shame.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Arguments? (you're all wrong btw) Only know me from one of these fandoms and have no idea what the hell I'm taking about? Hit me up in the reblogs!

[bloomdigital]

MJ Tumblr Takeover

Hey there tumblies, it's me, ya boi!

I’m MJ (he/him), a queer, overcaffeinated, perpetually exhausted, chronically online, cat- and TTRPG-obsessed, BL-loving, shameless weeb, memelord (wannabe), raging anti-capitalist chaotic word goblin and aspiring cryptid, and I AM TAKING OVER THE LONGSTORY TUMBLR! (At least for a bit.)

Born: 08/09 Height: 182 cm Blood Type: [redacted] Type: Tsundere

I’ve been working on LongStory (on and off) since 2015, but I actually started as a fan! Once upon a time I blogged about queer nerd stuff for Xtra, Canada’s longtime LGBTQ+ publication, and I stumbled on the first episode of this adorable little romantic visual novel through Twitter (RIP). I was absolutely charmed, an instant fan, this gorgeous little game that let me relive the trials and tribulations of grade school life but in a more queer and trans friendly world. It was exactly the kind of game I wanted when I was growing up in a VERY small town in the Canadian Maritimes. So when they did a call for writers I think I was physically vibrating from excitement putting together my resume and sample scene—I actually remember exactly where I was, it was one of those weird, stars-aligned, stranger than fiction moments, but that’s a story for another time!

When I joined the team, we were basically a few writers, the producer/CEO and the programmer sitting around in a room figuring stuff out. I VERY ENTHUSIASTICALLY wrote a single VERY LONG episode which—instead of making me cut it down—the project leads generously cut in two and became Episode 4: Drama and Episode 5: Make Up, and I’ve been working with the company as a writer and narrative designer since then!

LongStory’s the first game project I ever got to work on, it’s near and dear to my heart, so when I got asked to join the team on a follow-up I was once again vibrating with excitement. The company is no longer a few people sitting around in a room, it’s basically doubled to a dozen actual employees and then a bunch of part-time contributors like me, and we’re working on not one, not two, but three—okay, one of them is in very early development, but still—games, with more coming down the line! It’s like we’re a real game company or something?!

YOU MAY HAVE HEARD WE’RE DOING A KICKSTARTER! We’re taking preorders through a crowdfunding campaign to finish development on seven shiny new episodes. We would ABSOLUTELY love if you supported the campaign, with just under two weeks and little over half way to our goal we really want to make it happen!

But, long story short (har har har), we wanted to make sure you know that there is a free Steam demo that you can very much play if you haven’t already! The team, including our narrative lead and I, put so much love into this demo which, let’s be honest, is the first full episode of LongStory 2. If you play it and like it, let us know what you think! In the meantime, I’m going to be here writing about what it’s like to work on LongStory, maybe take a look at some fun new additions to LS2, share some of our favourite fanart, answer some asks… talk about the music I’m listening to… uh… share cat pictures… SO YEAH! I hope to hear from some of you over the next couple of weeks! Otherwise I’ll just be here… you know, doing my thang?

Before I go… I’m just gonna leave this here…

[69misato69]

Porcelain (Zhongli x Childe x Ayato x Thoma) ✦ 2.6k, shameless smut

archive of our own ✦ twitter

masterlist pinned on my profile !

self indulgent horny stuff. childe and thoma are bottoms, everything is consensual and agreed upon beforehand. there's some slight CNC towards the end so please refrain from reading if that's triggering to you. a little childe-centric but everyone gets decent screentime i swear

cw: overstimulation, unprotected anal sex, anal fingering, ejaculation, consensual gay sex, blowjobs, handjobs, slight praise and degradation, CNC, erotic asphyxiation, use of collars and leashes, choking and gagging, rimming, blacking out

writer's note: explicit +18 content, please view at your own risk. thank you, have fun !

"You want to touch him, no?" Zhongli purred in the harbinger's ear, hands roaming around his chest, teasing his nipples. He was fully naked on Zhongli's lap, facing Thoma who was seated on Ayato's. "May I?" Childe looked at Ayato, asking for permission as the man was fondling his housekeeper's thighs roughly. "Of course, dear." Childe shifted forward, reaching to touch Thoma's reddened skin. His hand trailed from the housekeeper's neck to his narrow, delicate shoulders. Thoma's breathing got heavier, face turning red from arousal and embarrassment that he was getting so worked up in front of everyone. He reached to take Childe's left hand into his, guiding it down to his groin. "Did I say you could touch him?" Ayato parted the melody of the two boys panting. 

Childe felt Thoma’s hand tremble on his. "My lord, I-" Thoma opened his mouth only to be immediately hushed by a harsh tug on his mullet's tail. "Did I say, you could touch him?" Ayato repeated, this time emphasizing every word harshly. "No, sir." Thoma caved in. "That's what I thought”. Ayato hummed, turning to the harbinger again. "Slap him, Childe." he ordered. Childe gasped, "Me?" Zhongli wasn't interfering up until now, but this had piqued his interest. "He's misbehaving in front of my guests. Don't you think he deserves to be punished?" Ayato's eyes shone silver, piercing Childe's baby blues, corrupting and poisoning him. He was still new to this, most of his firsts being with Zhongli over the course of the past months. The archon was very gentle with Childe, easing him into more rough stuff slowly as time progressed and had explained to him at the beginning of the night that Ayato could be a little harsh at times. 

"Do it, Ajax." Zhongli broke his silence. Childe didn't waste another second before swinging a harsh abrupt slap across Thoma's cheek at the sound of his owner. Thoma whimpered with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Again." Zhongli ordered, Childe could feel him getting hard underneath his thighs. Ayato's eyes glowed as Childe's palm landed on the housekeeper's other cheek. Thoma lifted his face to find the harbinger with a guilty look in his eyes. "Don't feel bad, Thoma's not the best at following orders. Sometimes he needs a...gentle nudge." Ayato smirked mischievously. 

Childe and Zhongli noticed the growing erection between the housekeeper's legs. "Is his mouth any good?" Ayato asked Zhongli. The archon affectionately petted Childe's hair, his eyes closed like a satisfied kitten. "Why don’t you see for yourself?" Zhongli answered, making Ayato chuckle and nod contently. Childe looked at Zhongli for his approval, getting on his knees to approach Thoma. He hesitantly licked the tip of Thoma’s cock, the drags getting more confident and passionate as the housekeeper hissed and grabbed onto Ayato’s thighs. Zhongli’s eyes were fixated on Childe, eyeing his sloppy movements, the slight tingle in his wide shoulders as he couldn’t help but grind onto Thoma’s leg. Getting more and more turned on as the blonde’s moans filled the room, Childe’s hand trailed down to stroke himself. “Hands off.” Zhongli ordered. 

He immediately retreated, bringing his wrists together behind his back so Zhongli could see. Ayato was in awe of how Childe submitted to him with no questions asked. The archon hummed and laid back, watching the harbinger with a lustful gaze as he kept sucking and grinding needily onto Thoma’s leg. Ayato watched Zhongli reach for his hardened cock, giving it light strokes while he intently watched the two. “Enjoying the show, Morax?” Zhongli smiled at the name, making his way to the bed, “Very much so.” Ayato turned the housekeeper's face towards himself, “Go and do as he says, got it pup?” Thoma lightly pushed Childe away, “Yes, my lord.” He followed Zhongli to the bed, taking off the rest of his clothes. Childe watched him leave, slightly confused. Ayato leaned forward, stopping an inch away from the harbinger’s face, “Is there a problem?” 

“No…It’s just… Won’t we go with them?” Childe asked, trying not to be rude. Ayato held his chin, “You’re mine for a little while.” He laid back on the chair, Childe’s attention shifted to the commissioner’s body, finally noticing how beautiful it was now that Thoma was off his lap. There wasn’t a single imperfection, he was toned yet so slender and agile, on the contrary to the warm tint that Zhongli’s skin had, Ayato, was porcelain. He didn’t look human, Childe couldn’t imagine him bleeding, how could he possibly have bones and veins underneath? He was torn between being terrified of touching Ayato and simultaneously feeling the strongest compulsion to do so. Suddenly he realized how long it had been since he froze in place. Ayato was waiting patiently, aware of the hold he had over Childe. He chuckled, “I don’t bite.” Childe nodded, pressing his palms on Ayato’s sides, tracing his abs, feeling his sharp hip bones, trying to rationalize his feelings as he explored the young master’s body. 

Until then he felt the urge to turn around and check up on Zhongli, but that urge had suddenly vanished. Ayato was occasionally eyeing the two, Thoma was on the archon’s lap, leaving kisses and bite marks all over his neck and torso while the brunette squeezed his thighs. His arms were slowly turning darker with faint gold lines all along his sculpted abs.  Childe dragged his tongue along Ayato’s shaft, trying to hide his excitement, he went on slowly, cherishing every inch. He began to caress his pale thighs as he picked up the pace slightly, applying more suction, eliciting light moans from Ayato’s lips. Childe could feel his face catching on fire. His voice was so nice, soft and calming, yet it felt like he was going to explode. He forced himself a bit more, going deeper and deeper in an attempt to drag more lewd sounds out of him but it wasn’t quite paying off. Childe looked up, meeting Ayato’s gaze. “If you want something, ask for it.” he said as if he read the harbinger’s mind.

Childe pulled away, wiping his saliva. “I would just…like to hear more.” he said hesitantly. Ayato leaned in, “Hear more of what?” he was keeping a straight face, enjoying himself as Childe turned redder and redder. “You…moaning.” he averted his gaze. Ayato held his chin to lift it up, “Then do better.” Childe momentarily choked on air, “I’m doing my best.” he said apologetically. “He’s way too nice to you.” Ayato whispered, an inch away from the harbinger’s face that was brimming with tears. He grabbed the back of Childe’s hair roughly and jammed deep into his throat with no warning. “I could show you things much more thrilling, you know.” Childe’s eyes widened, jaw clenching around Ayato’s cock as he slid the harbinger’s head back and forth, feeling the back of his throat with every thrust. Childe was letting out muffled screams, grabbing Ayato’s thighs so tight that his fingernails were digging into the flesh. 

Ayato pressed on the soft spot right beneath Childe’s chin, “Relax here.” The harbinger obeyed, trusting Ayato to ease his misery as he focused on Zhongli’s grunts to distract himself. The young master let out a deep moan, “There, a lot better, no?” Childe hummed, his face relaxed as the strain of Ayato’s cock became lighter, sliding much more smoothly and knocking him back into his senses. He looked up at Ayato, swirling his tongue around the shaft and latching on strongly. Ayato’s spine met the chair as his head fell back with pleasure, fingers tightening on the ginger locks. “Keep going.” Childe obeyed, slowly adjusting to the deep thrusts as tears, saliva and precum coated his face. Ayato was still glued to the chair, his moans and words of praise encouraging the harbinger. 

His jaw was almost numb, his groin was aching from the lack of attention and yet he felt like he could go on forever as long as Ayato fueled him. He picked up the pace even more, choking and gagging until the young master pushed his head all the way through, releasing warm liquid down his throat with a low “Fuck.” Childe swallowed in delight, pulling back as a thin string of saliva stayed connected between his lips and the tip of Ayato’s cock. He rested his head on the commissioner’s thigh, still out of breath. “You did well.” Ayato patted his head. Childe looked up at him, eyes half-lidded and burning bright. Ayato reached back to the wardrobe, revealing the panel of collars and leashes. “Pick one and I’ll take care of you. I imagine that’s painful.” he referred to the rock-hard erection between Childe’s thighs. 

His cheeks were flushed once again, “I pick one myself?” Ayato nodded, “Is that a problem?” Childe’s eyes widened, “No, of course not. It’s just that…he usually picks them out for me.” He turned around, seeing Thoma on Zhongli’s lap with his back turned as the archon slid him up and down harshly. “I’d like to see what you like.” Ayato caressed his shoulders. Childe hummed, he was mesmerized by the sight. Ayato got up to make space for the harbinger as he browsed through them all, settling on a thick, leather one with an adjustable chain. Some of them were fixed but these ones got tighter the more you yanked, they were Zhongli’s favorite, he had one just like it at home that had Ajax written on it. 

‘I’d like to see what you like.’ He liked whatever Zhongli liked on him. He liked dressing up in his favorite colors, he liked picking out toys he knew Zhongli enjoyed using on him, he liked being his, making him happy made Childe happier. And so, he picked out the collar confidently, Ayato raised his brows “That one’s heavy. Are you sure you can handle it?” Childe smiled, “I’m used to it.” Ayato binded it at the back of his neck and attached the leash, “Very well then.” He tugged on the chain, heading towards the bed and dragging Childe on all fours along with him. Zhongli was more laid back now, still out of breath as Thoma desperately kept fucking himself on his dick. Ayato traced his fingers along the fresh wounds on Thoma’s hips, the blood matching the dried up stains on Zhongli’s claws. He chuckled, “I keep forgetting that you have natural weapons, Morax.” 

Zhongli smirked, “You’re not doing any worse with unnatural ones.” Ayato hummed delightfully, patting on his legs so that Childe settled on his lap. Similar to how they started the night, everyone was facing each other, though Childe and Thoma had switched places. The harbinger looked at Zhongli, who was looking at him affectionately as Thoma rocked lightly on his lap. He had to take breaks as he wasn’t allowed to cum just yet. Ayato began circling around Childe’s hole with his lube-coated fingers. Childe cupped Thoma’s cheek, “You okay?” Thoma smiled, he was so exhausted and full of energy at the same time. “I’m okay, Ajax.” Zhongli tensed up for a moment, Childe didn’t really like other people using that name, but instead he leaned forward to kiss him. For some reason Thoma felt really safe to him, Ayato pushed two fingers in as Childe’s hand trailed off to the housekeeper’s cock. 

Thoma began to pick up the pace again, the two moaning into each other’s mouths, occasionally coming up for air as Ayato stretched the harbinger out thoroughly. Childe loved the feeling, as if he was sharing Thoma with Zhongli. An unspoken feral bond between the four of them. Eventually Ayato lined up at the harbinger’s entrance. “Ready?” he asked, only Zhongli noticed the evil grin on his face and what he was about to do. Childe was still passionately making out with the housekeeper and jerking him off, he mumbled a “yes” as Thoma gripped on Zhongli’s legs. With the confirmation, Ayato plunged deep inside Childe harshly, yanking the leash all the way back and fully blocking his airway. The scream he let out stayed muffled on his throat as his face turned a darker shade of red, Ayato started thrusting in and out, maintaining the depth as Thoma swirled his tongue around the harbinger’s nipples.

He looked at Zhongli with teary eyes, the archon was enchanted by his misery, his eyes were glowing amber as the gold markings shone brighter and brighter, his hand wrapped around Childe’s hardened cock as the sharp claws lightly scraped on the sensitive skin. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, Ayato loosened his grip. Childe coughed, gasping for air while trying to keep himself from releasing. He’d never felt a rush this strong, so stimulated and in an immense amount of pain. His senses were both heightened and completely dulled all at the same time. Thoma was leaving kisses all over his face and shoulders, rubbing his cheeks on his skin, soft, pink and filled with freckles like a strawberry.

“You remember how we stop, Ajax?” Zhongli asked with a hint of concern to make sure as Ayato kept brutally thrusting in and out, latching onto Childe’s hips tightly. “Yes, Master.” he breathed out in between moans. Thoma could feel Zhongli twitch inside him, one hand on his side and one hand around Childe’s dick. He was amazed at the harbinger’s stamina. “Again, please.” he pleaded. Ayato looked at the archon with a hungry gaze. Zhongli thought he was deranged at times. He would ruin someone like his Ajax. Thoma was more of a brat as far as Zhongli had observed, he fought back to Ayato and him, and he liked having his way even as a bottom. But Childe lived to serve him, so he cherished that, he was careful not to damage Ajax. But seeing him as big a mess as he was right now was awakening something inside Zhongli. 

Ayato was still looking at him, “Do it.” Upon hearing the archon’s voice, Ayato didn’t waste a second before tightening the collar once again. Muffled moans and screams dangled on the harbinger’s throat. He knew how to make it stop, and he knew he had to, but he just loved the way Zhongli looked at him. As if he wanted to fuck him senselessly and tear him to pieces. He was getting it out on Thoma, who was thoroughly enjoying it with his eyes rolled to the back of his head, loud moans escaping his lips. Just as his lungs were about to give out, Ayato let go, Childe was unable to hold himself any longer as he painted Thoma’s stomach white. “My lord…” Thoma whimpered. “Go ahead, pup.” Ayato permitted him to release. Childe looked up, then collapsed onto the housekeeper, blacking out as his body went limp. Ayato looked at the archon, “Finish, Ayato.” he growled. Thoma held the harbinger’s body still as Ayato chased his own orgasm, Zhongli grunted, releasing around the same time as the commissioner, holding onto Thoma’s waist. 

Everyone stayed in place for a while, settling down and coming out of the high. Ayato gently laid Childe on his back as Zhongli pulled out. “Hm, making a mess on our guests…That’s not very nice Thoma.” Ayato teased. Thoma pouted, then smiled again, “Can I clean him up?” he asked. “Mhm, do that and I’ll draw you a nice, warm bath.” Thoma climbed on top of Childe, licking off his own cum from the harbinger’s stomach and groin. Ayato laid on Zhongli’s chest, his silver hair scattered over the now fading gold markings while his slender fingers gently traveled over the archon’s thighs. Thoma moved down, cleaning his master’s semen leaking out of the harbinger’s hole. Zhongli’s hands were tangled in Ayato’s hair, his heartbeat finally returning to a normal pace as a wave of serenity came over him. Soon after resting, Ayato took Thoma to the bath and Zhongli took Childe in his arms, placing a loving kiss on the harbinger’s lips.