#genshin impact letters

[pachimation]

happy birthday scara!! 🥳

can’t wait to see what you’ll do this year!

[kindrehd]

things never change

[peatchoune]

"Perhaps were I to see you in the waking world, I would find the answer"

[the-last-butter]

I hope his birthday gift this year is an Intervention god bless

[xrux]

⟢ ﹒ cw. afab! reader, nudity, established relationship, cock worship-y, graphic depictions of a penis lol, how to say ily without saying ily, soff dick loving hours, idk it just feels intimate, implied pussyjob, 18+ only, minors do not interact

❝ thinking about diluc coming out of the shower, and seeing his flaccid dick for the first time ❞

⟢ ﹒ ♡ ﹒ ⟢ ﹒ ♡ ﹒ ⟢ ﹒ ♡ ﹒ ⟢ ﹒ ♡ ﹒ ⟢ ﹒

he uses a towel to dry his red locks, his bangs damp, sticking to his forehead. you shuffle in bed, lying down on your stomach, granting yourself a better view of your partner. your eyes follow the trail of droplets dripping down his body, still steamy and wet from the hot shower he just took. your eyes immediately lock onto the area below his waist, jaw nearly dropping to the floor upon seeing his soft dick for the first time.

a prominent vein on the side of his cock disappears at the base. even down there, he knows how to keep himself clean, maroon pubes neatly and regularly trimmed. you pride yourself at the thought of bagging such a well kept man.

he’s hung even when he’s not hard. his cock is so heavy it drags its sways from the slight movement of his hips.

“it’s payment upfront, you know,” diluc mutters, feeling your stare prickle at his skin.

“c’mere then. need to get my money’s worth.”

he lets his towel drop to the floor, rushing to prop himself up on the edge of the bed. he crouches down to your level and you feel his eagerness in the way he captures your mouth.

after you discard your own clothes, he has you straddling him while he sits on the bed, headboard now damp from his wet locks.

you use your own slick to lube up his dick, riding his soft length with your own puffy folds until his fully erect cock rides up to your ass.

“there he is,” you tease. “world-class boner, ladies and gentlemen.”

[scruus]

★ [ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐦 𝐈 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞? ]

✎ : sub kaveh x dom gn reader notes: handjob(Kaveh receiving), dacryphilia, dirty talk, begging, wholesome at the end so porn with plot, reader being a simp because this is very much a self insert.

author talks: WE ARE SO BACK YALL (gang signs 🤟). It took me so long to get back into my writing space again and am happy am back.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ favorite - isabel larosa

Kaveh was seated in front of you, dressed in the costume of a veiled dancer of the medieval century. And coincidentally so, the costume was similar to a fanart you had seen a few weeks before of the character Link from the game, Legend of Zelda. Who is currently your new obsession.

He didn’t need much help with the costume because his features and hair were an almost exact copy of that blonde twink but what shocked you was the bare torso with only chains of jewellery hanging and they added a shimmering sheen. It was like his body was a painted canvas and the gold chains coupled with small studded gems were the sheen to the final art form.

That darning pretty face was covered with a thin red veil and his arms had puffed sleeves which were lonely with no other garment around. The flowing skirt beneath his abdomen were like broad drapes spaced evenly, letting you have a peek at his milky white thighs and red thong.

Thong?!, your eyes widened with complete shock. How did I not notice that!

Upon looking at his shy face for answers, you realized it would be futile with the way he was avoiding your gaze, his eyes almost burning a hole into the carpet. However, mischief was a trait that was quite comfortable under your skin and all the more torturing for your lover.

“Kaveh….”, his body jerked at your voice, ears changing color from nude to red while he sat shyly. “Where did you get that thong?”, his jaw clenched while his hands formed into fists holding tightly at his skirt, feeling the warm shame rise in his body as he now switched his seating position to hide the underwear from you.

He grumbled quiet messes of words but you failed to hear it. The idea that whatever force had made him dress up like this was so enticing to you. You obviously knew he liked to cosplay a few characters here and there and you loved seeing him dress up. But never had you ever witnessed him in such a scandalous costume, that too of video game character he is supposed to ‘hate’.

“Kaveh…I asked you some-"

“UGH! I BOUGHT IT FROM A LINGERIE SITE!”, he shouted, rushing to bury his heating face in his hands, praying that the ground just opens up and swallows him whole and let him at mercy.

The urge to laugh was almost hurting your chest but you had to resist the temptation. In defense, you bit your bottom lip but Kaveh knew better. He sighed dejectedly, “you can laugh…”, as he looked at you.

You shook your head in response, “no no am not laughing I am just curious”. Although partly lying, it was true. The question of why he had done this was eating at you since whenever you suggested him an even mildly spicy outfit, he would straight up shut you out. Hot-headed much. So what caused this change?

“About what?”, he groaned with a frustrated pout on his face, hoping this entire ordeal just ends and he stops sitting like some guilty criminal.

“….. why Link?”, Link was one of your favourite characters but very much despised by your boyfriend. He used to complain about him at every chance he could get and you would just laugh at his pettiness. Playing the game? he would grumble about his character design. See his merch somewhere? Talk shit about the price and quality. And all the times you brought him up during lunch or dinner when the fangirling hit too hard, you could see his eyes almost roll into the back of his head.

In conclusion, he HATED that twink.

Kaveh decided to remain silent and aloof. Pupils darting around the room while his fingers fiddled with each other. It was a question he feared you would ask. He could lie or make up something random but would catch on quick. And the fact that you would probably accept his lie and not push him for the real answer hurt him more because your affection for him reaches heights.

“Honey I-“

“You liked him”, he replied softly.

“Huh?”

“….you liked him alot and I hated it”

You wish you could jump on him and grab that puffed, angry face of his which had the most adorable pout ever and kiss him hard. The kind of kiss that makes him forget his name and a little weak in the knees. The one that make him begging for more like a shameless whore.

A glow sparked on your face as you smiled at him. Directing your fingers at him, you patted your lap in an attempt to make him sit on your lap. Kaveh obliged, which was rather shocking because he usually turned a blind eye to your doting acts. It would either be you running after him to make him comply or his neediness for you overpowering his attitude.

Looks like today was the latter.

He straddled your lap, eyes still avoiding your own yet both bodies radiating the heat of need. “Were you jealous?”, your tone was delicate and sincere which led Kaveh to lose his guard. He slowly nodded his head before looking down at you. The sapphire red eyes of his being all so lovely and that gorgeous face of his beaming a dark red.

“Do you think I link Link more than you?”, you asked while your fingers trailed up and down his spine, sparking little goosebumps on his skin. Kaveh already knew the answer but his own insecurities resulted in the surety of his doubt. He refused to answer.

“Well then, would you be happy if I show my love for you?”, the question was straight and simple, even wholesome, one would say. However, Kaveh’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as if noticing something more sinister was hidden between your words .

“How about I bend you over and fuck you in this costume”, your one hand treaded through his messy hair as the whispers made his tummy churn while the other groped his butt.

“Or better….I’ll raw dog you in front of our mirror-“, so sultry and hot, that was how you sounded right now, “and you can see how we both look like when you take my strap deep inside”. Kaveh pursed his lips in, swallowing whatever saliva was remnant on his mouth because the heat was starting to rush down to his dick and it was suddenly difficult to breathe normally.

The visual imagery of what you would look like, the expressions your face would contort to and the suggestion of what a ruined mess he would look under you got him all dizzy and aching.

Your hand suddenly slipped inside his skirt, grabbing his growing boner which was covered with the red thong. His body jerked upwards, stunned by the touch. “What are you-a-ah?”, a moan escaped from his lips and he was appalled at his own reaction. What the fuck are you doing?

“What? Didn’t you dress up all nice and cute for me?”, you leaned in forward with a grin on your face, lips just a few shaky breaths apart from his. Wrapping your hand around his stiff dick, you slowly rubbed it making sure your eyes never lost the sight of his own. His pale body was now adapting a reddish color, like his entire body had decided to reject his morales and act according to your will.

“I-I don’t kn-“, a strangled moan was heard when you squeezed your palm around his dick.

“Didn't you wear this slutty thong for easy access?”, Kaveh’s inner voice was screeching at him with how you sounded right now, “so that I can pull it to the side and slide myself in for a quickie?”. The implication of your words were making it so difficult for any rationale thoughts inside his head and that too with your soft palm working around his shaft, he suddenly felt all weak.

“Ah look at you, getting all excited just from a few words”, you merely chuckled and his dick twitched in your hand. Kaveh started unconsciously bucking in your palms. “F-fuck fuck…”, he bit down on his lip stifling those whorish noises to which he received a harsh smack on his ass. Eyes widening in surprise as a gasp slipped from his throat.

It stings, he thinks. It stings so why is it that his cock is rock hard? Why is the painful stimulation driving all his blood down to his already burning core? And instead of despising it, why does he want more? He blinked rapidly trying to keep the newly bloomed tears at bay. He is whining like a pathetic slut, he can’t start crying too!

“I want to hear your voice Kaveh”, a stern command from you got to his head and he whimpered and squirmed under your gaze. “Do. Not. Be. A. Brat”, eyes scanning his burning face which so evidently revealed the desperation surging inside him. His hips grinding into your hand, chasing after the addictive feeling while heat started pooling between your legs.

“s’ good…feels good”, his moans sputtered easily as his mind slipped into a subspace. Kaveh stared at your face with adoration and he croaked his begs for a kiss. Oh they look so soft, he thinks wanting to press his lips against your own so bad all the while he ruts into your hand like was so beautifully pitiful.

You pulled him in by the back of his head and his arms wrapped around your neck. He nibbled at your lips hastily just so your tongues could intertwine, resembling an earnest puppy. He was losing himself. Needy whines of your lover, that were poorly muffled by your lips, were filling up the room and god was it intoxicating.

You fastened the pace of your hand on his weeping cock and he sobbed curses. It was adorable the way he trembled in your grasp all the while his throbbing dick sent flutters of zaps down his body. Shit he was close.

“uhn~c-close close mmh”, he was blabbering like a kid, like he didn’t know what ‘sentences’ are and that almost made you kiss him into a puddle again. But no. You wanted to hear him. Hear his words out aloud, no matter how shameless and humiliating they are. You wanted to hear him beg.

“Slow dow-ough s-slow please!”, his nerves were burning. That brain of his had already turned to mush and he had thrown away whatever dignity he had left the moment you decided to jerk him off. Mouth wide open, panting, as tears started to trickle down and he clenched your shirt for dear life. He feared the orgasm would make him pass out.

“Should I stop?”, you teased and that just made him whine. He wanted to cum so bad and if you paused even for a mere second, he would start wailing. Looks like he has really being reduced to a crying slut.

“No! No ungh~!”, he cried out, both your sweaty foreheads rested against another as his gaze fixated on the way his dripping cock was moving in and out of your pretty hands. It was so obscene but fuck did it feel good. The way your hands moved at a brutal rhythm and his head sported a swollen reddish-pink color, it was legit a scene from a porno.

“Cum for me then”, you huffed, feeling the heat spread under your skin, fire dancing on your nerves. And as if waiting for your command, Kaveh dug his nails in your shoulders before sputtering all over your top. The white liquid sticking to your trousers as you continued to massage his high off making his dick throb cutely. Kaveh felt his toes curl and there was a loss of voice in his throat for a few seconds. His hips spasming during the release while his entire body arched into you.

Shaking gasps and trembling moans left his mouth as the aftershocks still waved through his body. He swear he could almost see his vision turn dark before collapsing on you, body immediately going limp. His nose took in the scent of your perfume to which his strained muscles responded by relaxing. Time had seemed to halt and the only sounds that could be heard was Kaveh’s slumbering sighs and the soft caress of your fingers on his back.

“I love you, you do know that right?”, you finally spoke up, trying to soothe any dilemma in his mind even the act you two commited just now but what you received from him was a soft boyish laugh. The same one that made you fall head over heels when you first met him in the bar.

“I know….I just….I was jealous”, he traced shapes on your chest, avoiding your gaze once again because he knew he was blushing and the last thing he wanted to see right now was your smirk. Well he was wrong about it. You had never looked so lovesick with that grin on your face, like an absolute fool whose entirety revolves around their blonde, hot headed, bashful lover.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him in close and cuddling and it made his eyes feel heavy. Just before they shut down, he mumbled in a hushed tone, “I love you too”.

And there you sat, still and looking like a bright red tomato as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest.

Shit, you thought, I am so cooked.

[the-system-mailbox]

hhh dearr fisch n barbz and razz

i miss youu guyz

hmmmm

like really really moss you

like j wish u guys were here :(

fromm ur fav person ever benniee

(source is genshinn impactt)

.

[sleepzsharkz]

Take better care of yourself instead.

[risustravelogue]

reposting because the initial post didn't show up on tags smh. thanks holly for pointing out the issue with dividers… but here I am using them again anyway lmaooo

edit: it's the tags. I said "horny" in tags LMAO-

fem!reader. he calls you "girl."

I mean. I mean yeah.

just imagine...

pussydrunk alhaitham, working the magic with his precise tongue slipping in and out of your entrance, and once in a while, he gives a sloppy suckling to your clit.

he drinks you until you lose control from the orgasms he puts you through… then he pulls back and chuckles, slapping his thick, hard cock against your pussy. he pushes his swollen, leaking cockhead against your wet, puffy clit, once- twice-

then he slams his hips against yours, sheathing the whole length of his cock with your slippery walls in one thrust as he groans in pleasure beside your ear.

you feel his broad, sculpted chest against you, his whole body shaking from his own actions.

yet he thrusts his hips forward again,

and again,

and again,

until finally he spills his seed into your ready womb, pulling your body tight against him as he cums.

"that's my girl," he whispers, peppering your skin with kisses. satisfied, he buries his face to the side of your neck, inhaling your scent with every breath he takes, his cock still buried inside you.

"I love you," he mumbles as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

"mm," you reply, giving your lover's hand a gentle squeeze. you feel him smile against your skin.

-ah, if only we can spend every night like this.

© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖

the gorgeous mdni banner template by @/cafekitsune 💙

[alexithykia]

minors & ageless blogs dni. | wriothesley x fem!reader.

cw. ooc wrio? more common than u thinkies, so so so self indulgent, riding, semi-public sex, is this a breeding kink? /ref (wrap it b4 tappin it plz), daddy kink (ofc…), belly bulgeeee !! praise + petnames (good girl, baby)

notes. fixin’ the layout tmrw ew… oh excuse it not bein proofread yet too !! | tagging @yingsreverie bc dis came 2 my mind aftr ur post earlier n’ wrio babiez stick together ♡

“that’s it,” his voice is low, a heavy timbre that rumbles from his chest as his hot breath tickles the back of your neck, “that’s a good girl.”

there’s the embarrassing wet squelch of your bodies colliding as you give your first hesitant bounce on his lap. your legs straddle him, feeling his chest press against your back as he presses loving kisses to your shoulder blades. you’ve barely began your ministrations and yet your legs are crumbling beneath you, quivering as you raise your hips to slam them back down again.

“takin’ me so well tonight, huh?” WRIOTHESLEY chuckles, a large palm sliding from your waist upwards, following the curve of your side before he cups your breast in his hand, “so fuckin’ tight baby.”

secret meetings like this in his office were nothing new between the two of you. plenty of times had you found yourself visiting for a mere cup of tea shared in the company of your partner and yet ending up tucked underneath his mahogany desk, your pretty lipgloss coated lips wrapped around his length and a calloused hand buried in your hair.

numerous times had visitors questioned wriothesley’s questionably sized desk chair and wriothesley always uttered the same excuses with that coy grin of his; it was for comfortability, of course but you knew the truth - it meant that your body could fit snugly on his lap for a multitude of purposes.

“daddy—” there’s the faintest reflection of crystalline tears in the corner of your eyes when your hips slap down onto his, his tip pressing to your spongey spot like it has done thousands of times before. wriothesley knew your body well, after all, “s-so full—”

you’re babbling and it’s barely coherent, much to wriothesley’s amusement as his spare hand wanders over your belly, pressing hard onto the bulge that comes with every bounce of your smaller body. he clicks his tongue, his hand idly squeezing your breast before it returns to your waist and helps guide you. you’re losing your pace, faltering as you arch back against his broad chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you cry out.

“you’re doing such a good job, baby, you know that?” he groans close to your ear, feeling the way your walls tighten in response to his words. your hands blindly fumble to find his arms, his hands, any of him so that you can claw at his pale skin, leaving pretty red marks as you try to find purchase.

there’s a fluttering in your tummy that can only mean one thing, drawing out more harmonious moans from your swollen lips as wriothesley’s fingers trace over your sensitive clit, giving an exceptionally sharp thrust, “makin’ such a mess… gonna have to finish inside…”

it only takes a few powerful thrusts, wriothesley’s strong grip almost bruising your waist as he holds you down on his lap, his cock bottoming out as it twitches, filling your womb with hot, sticky seed as your walls clamp and milk him dry for what he’s worth. there’s a breathy chuckle from your partner, your overstimulated body shuddering as you finally relax back against him. your legs ache, spent once again from another simple “visit” to your boyfriend’s office.

© anaxiphikia 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[hismourningflower]

「 scary dog privileges | kiss (don't tell!) event 」 blade & cyno x gn!reader | fluff, established relationships | event entry. ↳ ohhh zenith~ (@lovingluxury), i'm your secret admirer for this year's kiss (don't tell!) event !! you get my very first attempt at blade, i'm so sorry but i'm so glad i got to practise him !! happy valentines my lovely, i hope this year treats you how you deserve it !! ↳ shoutout to my oc chrysalis for being on my mind for the entirety of blade’s part

the jade's guidelines | genshin m.list | honkai m.list | kiss (don't tell!) m.list

BLADE calls falling for you "a mistake," one that he made quite boldly. nonetheless, he only ever grumbles this under his breath and never actually aloud - he can't bear to see that faint grimace of hurt on your face. no matter how many times he says he doesn't care, he quite clearly does.

it's a well known fact that's not into all of the lovey dovey romance stuff you rope him into with a wide smile on your face, tugging his calloused hands in the direction of another pretty scenic backdrop for a couple selfie or when you place matching items into his rough palms. behind closed doors, he finds the pads of his fingertips tracing over the photo or item with some 'annoying' sense of longing.

blade is scary to a lot of people. he knows he is, it's unmistakeable when people cower at the sight of him. their eyes shrink in fear, lips trembling when they can barely stutter out words in his presence. this is precisely why he loves to loom behind you, even when you're unaware of him being there - in his defence, he's quite quiet when he tries - because the mere sight of him scares people off. you want to scold him but you're thankful for this newfound privilege when you're stuck in uncomfortable situations, regardless you know that blade wouldn't bat an eyelid and would simply ignore you.

he undeniably has a soft spot for you - this "mistake" of his. the other stellaron hunters pick up on it fairly quick, smug looks on their faces as they share glances every time the two of you are together around them. blade wasn't sure you'd get along with the stellaron hunters at all, can you blame him? they're an organisation that isn't exactly in anyone's good books. yet you seem to bond well with kafka and silver wolf... what a shame for him. unfortunately, this means he's prone to hearing silver wolf and kafka taunt him about this little soft spot of his; "what's wrong bladie? you're going soft," kafka chides with a sly grin, only to hear a disapproving grunt from the tall man.

in private, blade's personality doesn't change all that much. he's still grumbly, his scary demeanour hanging over his head like a guillotine thanks to his mara but there's a slight shift in his behaviour. he likes to lay with you, not that he'd ever admit that (aeons forbid if he did, he'd never hear the end of it.) in fact, it's his favourite thing to do, especially after a stressful mission.

when things get tough and the mara hurts just a tad too much, blade will always find a comfort in laying his head gently on your chest or your lap, regardless of what you're doing just so that you run your hands through his dark hair. just so he can feel the tips of your fingers rub against his scalp, feel the way you braid little - or big - braids into his long hair. he stays silent as you comb through his black locks, brushing out every tangle so gently he barely feels it.

he may claim that getting too close to you was "a mistake" but by the aeons, he knows damn well that he's lying to himself.

CYNO didn't intend to fall for you. it had been a mere accident but he'd never let the words 'mistake' fall from his lips, celestia forbid he even uttered 'accident' either. tighnari unfortunately had heard him say 'blessing' a tad too many times, however.

the general mahamatra... plenty of people in sumeru are relatively scared of him. why wouldn't they be? he's obsessed with his work, heavily devoted to his job of chasing down criminals and enforcing justice. even if they don't fear him, people most certainly know cyno - whether it be his name, his looks, his accomplishments or merely his rank title. despite this scary demeanour everyone sees when he's working, cyno really isn't as scary as people make out him to be.

cyno is incredibly self aware of people's thoughts and words about him. he knows damn well that people find him scary - that's the whole point of his comedy act and awful jokes he throws out without a second thought, his facial expression still as stern as ever as if he doesn't even find his own jokes funny. he tries not to let it affect him, in fact he's adapted; he'll use it to protect you.

don't get him wrong, he's perfectly capable at protecting you without instilling fear into the people bothering you but combat is tedious and you've scolded him many times for attempting to use hermanubis on some poor soul who rubbed him the wrong way. what's more better than looming like a threat, red eyes piercing into their very soul until they take the hint? sometimes he doesn't even need to go that far - the sight of him sends people running, they're not particularly looking for trouble with the general mahamatra after all.

despite trying to figure out how people work so he can soften the aura around him when people get too tense in his presence, cyno doesn't completely understand the lovey dovey things you rope him into. he understands to an extent, picking up the things you love the most so that he can do when you least expect it; he understands that it means a lot to you and that's all he cares about. you.

and undeniably so, he's ten times less 'scary' in private. kaveh and tighnari can't help but taunt him when he's brushing his tanned thumb over your knuckles, pressing slightly chapped lips to your skin in delicate kisses - what do you mean that's the general mahamatra? they'll grin but secretly, they're happy that cyno has someone that brings this side of him out.

one of cyno's favourite things to do outside of catching criminals so that they may face their judgement for their crimes (other than tcg...) is cook for you. when i say cook, i mean actual meals and not the rations he eats while he's out in the scorching desert or deep in the apam woods on dirt paths that have been worn into the grass from centuries of people walking through. he loves it, the idea of being able to provide something to you that he knows you enjoy and honestly, he's not a bad cook. however, you regret introducing him to non-native sumeru recipes when he mutters "wanna hear a joke about pizza?" oh no. even if you say no, he'll be quick to add "nevermind, it's too cheesy."

you're quite literally the most important thing to him other than work and if he has to use means he's not fond of just to protect that loving comfort you shelter his cracked heart with, then so be it.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[omertasmoon]

A drop of ink, a blot spread across time

(Vintage au)

Plot summary: It was 1950s when pen pals were popular and almost everyone had one! You used to have a handful of them but the camaraderie between you and them faded as you got older. One day, you found a newspaper on your late great-grandpa's shelves in his bedroom. Excitedly, you flipped the papers to get to a specific page and bingo! There was a section for the addresses of people who are looking for a pen-friend much like yourself. After randomly choosing, you sent out your first letter and he replied back! However, you noticed something weird in the photo he sent...

Crds to @drinkthesky for the divider!

Men I deem fit: Alhaitham, Albedo, Imbibitor Lunae/Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Diluc, Zhongli, Venti, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Sunday.

(Fck alphabetical order, I can't do that sh*t)

The amber glow of the afternoon sun bathed the room as the open windows situated at the opposite of the door allowed sunlight streams to enter the room as its panes quivered in hushed symphony due to the beckoning of the hot air. If you moved closer to the windows, you could see dust particles illuminated by the natural light. Even after the passing of your great-grandfather, the bookish scent of his cologne still lingers in his bedroom along with his possessions which were either coated with a thin layer of dust or covered with a big white cloth.

The wooden floor creaked beneath you as you walked towards his bookshelves in hopes of finding pieces of classical literature and maybe learn a thing or two from it. You delicately traced your index finger through the long vertical rows of books, leaving a trail of dust on the pads of your digit. As you peruse through countless novels only to be unsatisfied until you saw a newspaper at the edge of the shelf, untouched by the dust that plagues the rest.

'How strange...' you thought to yourself as you rubbed your thumb and index finger against the surface of the paper to determine its texture: it was sandy and rough, definitely ancient but the format was similar to the ones your dad reads in the morning so it must be a freshly produced newspaper, albeit printed in a different quality of paper.

Or so you thought...

The newspapers in your hands gave you a glimmer of hope; it was an opportunity to find a pen friend! You used to have a few ones but stopped writing to them either because they used too much colloquial words or they had at least twenty spelling mistakes in each sentence which gave you a migraine whilst trying to make out if your correspondent was writing in a foreign language or not. But this time, maybe you could hit the jackpot and find an actually nice pen-pal. Excitedly, you flipped through the papers and stopped at the specific page which had a list of names along with their addresses under the bold heading:

'Pen-friends! Make new friends around the world!'

Your eyes scanned across the list of names, allowing your intuition to guess the personality of that stranger based on their names alone. But then, a specific name caught your eye- it was uncommon which was the main reason it stood out from the rest of the names which probably were taken from 'Top 10 best names for children of this year'. You took a closer look of the address below that person's name and turned out, both of you lived in the same area! A surge of enthusiasm rippled throughout your body and immediately tucked the newspaper into the inside pocket of your coat.

~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~

The curtains of your living room slowly opened as you peeked your head out and pressed your face against the glass. A day had passed after you had sent your very first letter and heck, you even went a mile far by sending a photograph of your two cats to make a memorable first impression. Then- just like you had anticipated- the postman on his bike suddenly came into view and halted his vehicle by your mail-box and placed a letter inside. You clutched the folds of the curtains unable to contain the happiness blossoming inside you. As soon as the postman disappeared out of your eyesight, you rushed outside to take the letter out of the mailbox. The first thing that greeted your eyes was the immaculate handwriting and the scent emitted from the paper.

'How sweet of him...' you thought as you continued reading the letter in your mind. The paragraphs were neatly organized and made of outdated vocabulary that you wouldn't understand had you not taken an interest in classic literature. You could tell this man practiced utmost eloquence just by his letter alone. Overall, he wrote a few things about himself and asked you about your hobbies, what you like and blablabla.

But then, something struck within you concerning with the photograph he sent and notes written behind it:

"The construction of the mall is making my ears bleed. I cannot stand the constant sounds of the drills and other sounds coming from it. I daresay, you must be experiencing the same disturbance as we are only one street apart from each other. Perhaps we should plan to meet up after the mall opens. What do you think of it?"

The more you stared at the photograph and the note, the more confused you became. The picture showed the mall with the same as the one down the street but it was still in construction according to the photo. 'Huh?' A frown stretched across your face. That specific mall had been going on more nearly a century now to the point that the community had been urging the government to shut it down in order to build a more innovative one. Didn't it finish construction like a hundred years ago? But his photo told a whole new different story.

Suspicions rose inside of you as a spiral of questions revolved around your head- you found it difficult to process it. Not missing a beat, you hurried to your room to find that newspaper you took from your late great-grandfather's shelf. You mumbled in frustration when you couldn't find it; you swore you left it either on the desk or on the bed. Finally, you found it under the bed and oh my...

The letter was published a century back in time which meant that...

"T-The man I just sent a letter...was from the past...." The newspaper dropped from your hands. Your letter had ripped its way out of the fabric of time and went into the mailbox of a man who lived in the same area as you but different time period. He was in the past, you were in the future.

Still, a part of you felt curious about the interaction between two people of different dimensions. So you decided to reply back to his letter. What could go wrong...right?

To people who are more knowledgeable in time travel or parallel universes, pls don't attack me, I know what I wrote may or may not make sense for some of you but pls don't mind me 😭😭😭

And also, not proofread because I wrote this around midnight and I'm literally on the verge of dozing off- (Ik I have such healthy sleep cycles and I have to wake up at 6 am yayyy!! Sleep-deprived-students-core😘🙆🤗)

[catcze]

NO BC LISTEN.

WIRO REACTING TO HIS CRUSH/LOVER WEARING A SUIT. LIKE IT FITS THEIR FRAME SO PERFECTLY AND SNUGLY AND WDYM “WHY IS HE LOOKING” OFC HE’S LOOKING LIKE HELLO???

I can’t tell if he would shameless let his eyes roam or would avoid looking at them KDIDKSKSK WIRO BRAINROT IS SO REALL

KAJNSDSA BROOO OMG okokokok something along the lines but 👀

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

You're fiddling with the cuffs of your suit as you exit the changing room, a frown on your face. You're nervous— of course you are! It's not often that you're invited to a high-profile, black-tie event like this, and you'd rather not stick out like a sore thumb.

Wriothesley, who sits comfortably in a plush armchair, has been invited before though. But time and time again he's turned down the invites with some of the most ludicrous excuses. 'A monster is attacking the fortress' is one of his most used ones, closely followed by 'a bird shat on the shoulder of my suit.' But you wonder why he's accepted this time, despite his distaste for the limelight. Well, you shrug, pocketing the thought for later. At least you won't be going alone.

"What do you think?" You pose the question to him, still frowning as you look down at yourself. Did you look okay? Was the fit alright? Did this color wash you out? You had splurged on this (well. Wriothesley splurged on this, technically. He had said it's a gift) and had the suit custom-done, so it should fit your measurements to an exact, but... you frown, not able to shake off the nerves.

And it doesn't help that Wriothesley hasn't said anything since you've stepped out, either. Merely stares at you, eyes roaming your figure. Even at your question, he acts like he hadn't even heard it. Does the suit look that bad?

"Wrio?"

That seems to reach him, and he blinks, finally registering that he's been staring at you— and that you've begun to stare back.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, it looks nice on you. The tailor did a very good job," he says, glancing away, hoping you don't see the red tinge to his cheeks or his ears.

"Really?" You ask, evaluating yourself in the mirror with a frown. "I don't know. I feel like I look like a mess."

"if you look like a mess, then I dread to think what I look like," he says, glancing at you for a second, getting an eyeful of you in that damn good suit, and feels his mouth dry up again. Wriothesley turns his eyes to the corner of the room, finding the fake palm plant there incredibly interesting. Barely more interesting than you. In that very flattering suit. It emphasizes your body very well, he thinks. Makes him see just enough of you while still leaving some to the imagination. And the color you chose for it... red and black, to match what he'll wear, you said. He sighs, troubled, because just the mere memory of it has his heart racing and his palms sweating.

You keep criticizing your reflection for a while longer, and it takes just enough time for Wriothesley to work up the self-control to look your way. "You look good," he says at last. Then clears his throat. His face feels hot. "Better than good, even. You don't have anything to worry about, I promise."

It placates you, because you finally give your own reflection a rest. You back away from the mirror, humming. "If you say so. Thank you, Wrio," you tell him, flashing him a small, shy smile just before you back up into the changing room once more to take it off.

Once you're out of the vicinity, Wriothesley drops his head into his palms, groaning softly.

if he's this much of a mess around you at a fitting, he wonders how much of a fool he could make himself at the actual event.

[lovely-rubeum]

affirming word.

your first argument with al haitham is one you are sure you’ll never forget. not because of his piercing words and the cold way he stares back at you, but because of his desperate reassurance. the soft way he held you as apologies were uttered, and the gentle way he cared for every tear you shed.

a/n: waah this is my first fic on this account !! cheers ^^

w/c: ~1.5k

warnings: not proof read (im lazy my bad) mentions of arguments, insecurities. hurt/comfort

al haitham has been in maybe, one relationship before this one, you gather. there’s a certain coarseness to the way he approaches love and being in love with you that bleeds with lack of experience. it is not a slight against him, in fact, you’d consider it the furthest from that. you are honored to have been so cherished by someone who claims to not have time for trivial things. if al haitham is good at one thing, beyond mathematics or research or memorization, it is making you feel like you are not and will never be “trivial” to him. he remembers every date, he recalls every small detail, and he does everything he can, even in his busy schedule to make time for you. because you are the one he chose, and you are beyond his preconceptions about the usefulness and reason for “falling in love,” or other trifling activities.

so, when he calls you just that -- useless and pointless and trivial, it stings. and it stings for more than an hour, after the silence has settled in your shared living space and dinner has gone cold. it stings every time he looks at you, unable to control his cold and calculating frustration. even by the time said frustration is no longer directed at you but at himself for getting caught up -- for the escalation to petty insults rather than progress towards a natural solution. even as you both stand up and say you’re sorry for hurting each other and promise to listen and care. you are still left stinging. you ache all over, even as you lie in bed with him, his warm arms pulling your form close as you both whisper declarations of retreat, compromise, and love. you close your eyes and take in his scent, woody, almost a bit musky and just a twinge reminiscent of a well kept library. you would find solace here, but you cannot help but ache. your eyes sting with salt and self-admonishment as you sleep, feeling as though the two of you are left further apart than you were before.

it’s been several days now. the sounds of the bustling streets and the near silence of the akademia’s halls do nothing to comfort your still stirring heart. you see al haitham every day, you tell him you love him every day (because you do, and you’ll be damned before the aftermath of a finished argument tells you that you do not). he echoes the same, but still you think

trivial? were you nothing but pointless and foolish? did your beloved boyfriend, in times of distress, think of you as the very things he swore not to make you feel you were? it hurts to feel distant from him, but you’re sure he hasn’t noticed. in fact, you think it’s better that he hasn’t noticed. he’s a busy, busy man. and, really, he shouldn't be worried about something as frivolous as the way you feel about a pain that’s passed silently for days. you’ll get over it, because you’ve already talked and you love him and that should be enough.

but you forget, that al haitham, while not a fool, is foolishly in love with you. he is a man that gets what he needs and what he wants and when there are obstacles in his path he devises clear plans to avoid them. the only thing he would readily admit to making mistakes over is you. you and your smile that lights up his entire world, you and the way you care for him and challenge his mind in the most electrifying way. you who holds him as he sinks into the depths of his mind, and you who promises him eternity, irrational as that may be. so when you distance yourself, drowning in your own hurt, al haitham is planning. your wounds are like aching scars on his back. prickling with pain and a reminder of his failing, not to himself, but his failing to provide you with the world as you deserve. he sits in his office, stiff and cautious. what on earth could it be that has sent you away from him? what sort of thorns have coated your heart and how should he cut through them to get to you? 

you don’t think much of it, when you’re called into al haitham’s office today. you expect nothing more than an update about his findings. you’ll walk in, say hello, chat for a time until you realize you’ve veered off course and then you’ll depart with timid “i love you”s and you’ll stare into the silence as you hope for the short moment to lift your heart the way it had before it was wounded. you do not expect to see him staring anxiously at the door as you enter. you do not expect him to run a hand through his pretty gray hair and quietly ask you a question.

“could you lock the door?” you do, but you’re holding your breath. dread floods your veins and you cannot help but feel intimidated as he stands and approaches you. in an attempt to flee from your racing mind and heart, you change the subject.

“hi, dear. did you need something? i should have given you the report from—” you’re silenced by the worried look on his face. it’s a foreign expression, one where his shining, always focused eyes dart around you with a mixture of something like fear and hurt, and one where his built arms hang awkwardly at his sides as he figures out what to say first.

“there’s something wrong,” he starts. your breath hitches and you’re forced to break eye contact. al haitham frowns. “please don’t do that. please look at me.” the plea hurts your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to do just that. you try to wave it off.

“there’s nothing—” but the shake in your voice betrays you. he waits for you to open up. for you to take the first step, because your comfort is his priority, but you can tell with the tension in the air that he will cut through if you do not. al haitham gets what he needs, and what he needs more than life is your happiness. you’re sure of that now, as you look back at his expression, endlessly full of concern for you. you can’t bring yourself to lie anymore. “okay, maybe there is something.”

“may i inquire?” he says it so timidly you’d think he’s another person. you can’t stop yourself from sighing. 

“i just… it’s stupid. i don’t think it’s worth making a big deal. i’ll be over it soon.” the deadpan look on his face says otherwise.

“you have been… apart from your usual self. for longer than three nights. i’m worried about you.” al haitham’s admission is shaking, but resolute. his soothing voice quakes just the slightest bit, but he refuses to back down. you cave at his look, just as you always do.

“i‘m just… still hurt. over what you said, when we argued? i didn’t want you to feel bad since we already moved on from the problem but i keep thinking about it and hearing it in my head. you called me trivial.” al haitham pauses, as if recounting the event. you continue. “i know you probably didn’t mean it, but i can’t help but think that maybe…”

“stop,” he says with a gentleness reserved only for you. he places his hands gently on your shoulders while silently asking for permission in his gaze to pull you close. you nod, and suddenly his hand is patting the back of your head softly, as if you’re the most cherished being in the universe itself.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you feel your eyes welling up with tears as he holds you close and admits fault. he pulls away slightly, but only to dry your tears with his thumb.

“you are everything to me. and it was only foolish of me to have allowed things to progress to this point. i would move mountains and slay the worst of foes just to see you happy. i have taken away part of your smile, even for a second. and for that i am so sorry.”

there is a tenderness in his eyes. you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful expression if you tried, and it is then that you realize he is not used to wearing this expression. he is clumsy in the way he squeezes you, and although he is intelligent, he is also inept in maintaining his usual aloofness as he reassures you that you will never be a waste of his time. it is then too, that you notice the fear squandering his composure as he promises to love you for what may be the millionth time.

you relax and while you cry in his arms, you allow al haitham’s affirming word into your heart, never to be shaken again.

[cspcrashing]

⚖️: it's been a year since, hasn't it ? … time moves fast.

🌱: is that your way of saying you can't get enough of my company ?

⚖️: heh. do you need my attention this badly ?

🌱: how can i, when you spoil me so ?

… sleep, general. we will still be here tomorrow.

[dottcre]

FYCKING HIS CLONE INFRONT OF HIM not before tying him up, naturally. one of his clones getting slammed up and down your dick as it weeps, tongue out eyes crossed from how good you feel inside him. yanking the clone by his hair and spitting in his mouth, all while glaring at the squirmig, tied up dottore infront of you before going,

" maybe if you werent such a little brat earlier you could've been him. " as the clone shoots another load of cum on his chest, primettore is SEETHING maybe if he Was patient enough to not tease you mid harbingers meeting he Wouldve been in his clones position.

next meeting everyone sees dottore being late to the meeting for the first time ever walking with limp legs 😋😋 yummy

I DIDNT ANSWER THIS ASK YET?!?!?!?!? WHEN THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT FOR 2 WEEKS??? unbelievable. also marking this as a fic because it got so long !!

contains : sub!dottore (both his clone and primettore), fucking his clone in front of him, dacryphilia, begging, typical jealous and possessive dottore, harddom!reader, implied killing out of jealousy, ur dick can be a dick or a strap

dottore was practically feral and seething as he watched your expression contort with pleasure. you glanced at him from time to time, a shit-eating grin on your face as you fucked his clone stupid right before his eyes. “f-fuck!! more please! m-more,” it whimpered, and you laughed. dottore bit his lip harshly to stop the growl that threatened to escape. if he demanded things of you like this, you wouldn’t let him cum for two weeks. he knew it was just to make him mad, and god, it was fucking working. you indulged the clone as you pressed your lips to its, practically shoving your tongue down its throat before flipping it over, slamming it down onto the cold, metal surface of dottore’s work table.

“show this bitch how good you feel, baby,” you cooed, making the clone look at his creator by tugging on his hair harshly. the clone did as it was told, looking up at him through teary, lust-filled eyes. “yea, you do what you’re told, hmm?” you sneered, glaring at dottore. “unlike some impatient brat i know.” you shifted your positions, propping the clone up as he came with a whimper, his cum shooting all over dottore’s chest and mask.

before you could process what happened, dottore had broken the restraints he was put in, and his clone was on the floor, motionless. he’d thrown off his mask too, red eyes glaring into yours. “i’m the only one you’ll fuck,” he spat. “no one else.” with fervor you’ve never seen before, he kissed you, deep, rough and desperate. you moaned as you reached for his blue button up shirt, ripping the buttons open as you shoved him over, though gentler than you did with the clone. you were going to fuck him alright, and you’d be sure that everyone’ll learn that he’s your whore by the end of the night.

the next day, of course, dottore not only slept in but limped as he walked around, yet no one dared to ask what happened to him. well, if it wasn’t apparent enough by the marks on his neck, the whorish moans coming from his room would’ve revealled it anyway.