#genshin love letters

[ciearcab]

beyond the distant horizon

[pachimation]

happy birthday scara!! 🥳

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

[goxjo]

⟢ ﹒ 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.

[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.

[ughscara]

sleepy nonsense featuring kabukimono :)

cw. none! this is a more ambiguous setting ( up to your heart to decide whether this is romantic or platonic ). i wrote this way past my bedtime so it's messy www

inazuma was always cold.

not that's anything new. it's common knowledge that inazuma's breeze, regardless of weather, always held onto the tender yet unforgiving chill of its winters. your breaths tangled with the wind, forming into cute little clouds before dissipating then making a return with each slow exhale against your hands that were entwined together for warmth.

ah, never forget the soft sand below your feet and the shore embracing your ankles briefly. they weren't as cold, but they sure weren't forgiving either. this was becoming a bit of a worry for the one walking beside you under the moonlight, noticing the subtle shades of sunset that seemed to coat your cheeks and tips of your fingers more.

“are you really okay? you look more cold...” kabukimono's gentle tone resounded in your ears, worried for you still. his gaze is hesitant to leave your figure, taking notice of your slightly tense shoulders. ‘is my veil not enough?’ he thought to himself, even with your haori on along with his thin veil; you still didn't appear comfortable with this weather.

he snapped himself out of his slowly growing panic at just the right time, hearing the good old,

“i'm alright, kabuki. it's not that cold.”

excuse you? ‘not that cold?’

no, absolutely not, he couldn't have that for a response. not this time. and you were a bit taken aback to see him knit his brows and purse his lips by the slightest bit... archons, not that face.

anything but kabukimono's displeased expression.

you directed your gaze to the faraway horizon, rendering him unable to see your defeated smile. all that reverberated in your ears was the faint sound of his thorough footsteps on the sand, standing right before you yet he still couldn't catch your attention like he often did. if there was anyone more stubborn than nagamasa, it was you. ( at least, your stubbornness acted up in more trivial settings like now )

“(name)?” the puppet called out with gentle reproach, well aware that the softer tone would prompt you to look at him again. and true to his hypothesis; you did. he wasn't able to suppress the soft smile that painted his face, unable to not pass up the opportunity of admiring the adorable shade of red adorning your cheeks, the tip of your nose and knuckles from the chilly weather.

unlike him.

nevertheless... he took in a subtle breath, along with a moment then uttered; “you don't have to lie to me, you know.” kabukimono practically embraced the reassurance you often exhibited tightly at that moment, even more so as he extended his arms for you. “come here.”

too gentle and warm of a soul as kabukimono was, not at all hesitating to give out the invitation just as you unhesitatingly accepted it. a step closer, then another, and another, until you found yourself shielded by his arms. the little things, like how the hem of his silken kimono occasionally grazed the edges of your legs, the fabric dancing to the chilly wind that was the tiniest bit warmer than his porcelain skin, all the more icy against yours.

but that could never quill the warmth that stemmed from this puppet's endearing actions. whatever the cold breeze gave to you, whatever the cold shore provided, was all but naught as you showered more in the comfort his embrace brought.

“do you feel better?” kabukimono murmured, and he was delighted to see you withdraw all the while appearing more relaxed now. though just as you were about to speak; trickles of rain began to pour down. how convenient.

whilst you smiled, his ecstatic giggle carried out the brief silence, his veil draping over both of you side by side while slowly but surely making haste to tatarasuna village. aware that one way or another, neither of you was going to make it back dry nor warm.

here's to another earful from toki.

[starcurtain]

Woke: Kaveh has taken over Alhaitham's study to the point that he now thinks of it as his own.

Even Woker: "Kaveh's study" is actually his old bedroom, because he doesn't need to sleep in that room anymore.

[seafumes]

LOVE LETTER.

cw: based on a rant i had in my notes😭, starts out a lil hateful in the beginning

you find a letter, tucked neatly with the stack of mail on the counter. it had your name written in cursive on it, so you open it, (obviously)

[name],

you're an idiot. you're a big idiot.

and i hate that about you.

i hate that you think you can't confide it me, i hate that you think you aren't pretty or handsome enough, i hate that you don't think you're worth it.

i hate that you chase after these people who don't treat you how you should be treated.

i hate that you think you're not worthy of love because of those people.

because i love you.

i love the way you laugh, the way you talk. the way your smile seems to radiate like the sun and shine bright even in the darkest of rooms.

i love the way you're unthinkably you, the way you dress, how you present yourself, the way you comfortably gaze at people even when you're not interested in whatever they're saying because you want them to feel heard and listened to.

i love you.

the letter wasn't signed, but you had an idea of who it was from:

AYATO, heizou, DILUC, neuvillette, wirothesely, TIGHNARI, ALHAITHAM, + your favs !!

a/n: DONT GET MAD! i'm still working on endings for my tighnari fic.. and my brain isn't coming up with any so... but yea hope u enjoyed🙏🏾🫶🏾

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[kc-art-stuff]

behind the scenes!

keep reading for details about the drawing!!

on the upper left corner is a ticket to xinyan's concert plus a signed picture, the person with the newspaper is yunning (yun jin's manager) the newspaper has a picture of yun jin, on the upper right corner there's a note from shenhe that says 慢慢吃 or eat slowly/eat well. i also put a polaroid of shenjin <3

in the background there are some yun han opera troupe members!! one dan and one sheng.

on the table, you can see the sideburns opera artists use for their costumes, the makeup yun jin is using and tianshu meat which is one of yun jin's favorite dishes. and as shenhe's note implies, she's the one who delivered the food to yun jin <3

finally, yun jin is putting on make up and i drew her as a daomadan in a pink costume which im pretty sure signifies that her character is a young warrior!!

[utahimeow]

i think wrio has a cryo vision (? I've never played lmao) and im just imagining temperature play w him ..

cw — nsfw content. minors dni. temperature play, fingering, handcuffs, nickname ‘princess’

there’s mischief swimming in wriothesley’s crystal eyes.

it’s contagious—you can’t help the giddiness that flutters in your stomach as he locks your wrists behind your back with his handcuffs. perhaps it’s nerves.

“i’m gonna try something,” he says, voice gravelly, as his massive, scarred hands spread your thighs apart. “that okay?”

you swallow hard, but you nod your head. the curiosity eats away at you, a million ideas scattering about in your head. is he gonna blindfold you? plug you up? what if he starts speaking in a weird voice? starts roleplaying?

the pad of his finger on your clit makes you suck in a sharp breath of air. he circles slowly, teases you, until you’re bucking your hips and he’s baring his fangs at you in a mean grin.

he prods at your opening where there’s an embarrassing amount of slick drooling from you already, like you’re begging for him. he slides just the very tip of his ring finger inside, no more, and you squirm, a greedy attempt to swallow more of him.

“wriothesley,” you whine. “thought you said you were gonna try something new.”

he doesn’t say anything, just quirks an eyebrow, and suddenly his finger becomes ice. he presses his entire digit inside you and you’re squealing, a shiver racking your entire body as the cold spreads like fire throughout your entire body. you try to press your thighs together but wriothesley is far stronger, and he keeps them apart.

“f-fuck,” you yelp, eyes rolling into the back of your head when he curls his icy finger upwards, making you jolt.

“how does it feel, princess? tell me.”

“c-cold,” you whimper, to which he chuckles.

he fucks his finger in and out of you slowly, letting his cold skin drag over every inch of your warm, gummy walls. it’s like torture—your stomach coils with pleasure, but you’re squirming away from his icy touch, but you want more, but it’s too cold.

wriothesley slips a second frigid finger inside you, and your moans never stop—they’re so thick and so long and so cold.

“wr-wriothesley, please,” you say, gasping as he thrusts them in and out of you with increasing vigour. “wanna cum.”

“feels that good, huh?” he teases, keeping your legs pried apart with his huge hand, never relenting despite how you rut your hips with every one of his movements.

“y-yes, ugh,” you whine, the handcuffs jingling behind your back as your lover brings you closer and closer to your climax. your essence drips down his wrist and he licks his lips at the sight, growing tight in his own pants from the way you throw your head back and writhe in pleasure.

“cum for me,” he coaxes, angling his wrist so that his fingers can sink even further inside your pussy, can press against your sweet spot even harder, can make your stomach finally erupt with white hot pleasure that has you arching your back and crying out his name with bliss.

later, when he unlocks the cuffs and takes them off your wrists, the first thing you do is smack his bare chest.

“next time, i’m gonna handcuff you and stick a hot iron up your ass. as revenge,” you bark. wriothesley bursts out laughing as he massages your wrists.

“oh yeah? look me in my eyes and tell me you didn’t like it.”

he pauses, eyes locked upon your face. he waits. and waits.

times like this make you wish you were a better liar.

[inkkill]

Still thinking about kaveh’s birthday letter ☕️

[goxjo]

! 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐟𝐭. 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞

+ cw. fem! reader, best friend! ajax, just the tip, dubcon, reader is inexperienced, implied virginity loss, prone bone, petnames (sweetie, sweetheart), 800+ words, MDNI

+ aki's note. this is part of @ficsforgaza's kinktober event. I've got another fic coming out on the 24th!! thank you so much for the request and for letting me join <3 ++ no i didn't post this by accident ;-;

+ masterlists. general ┆ genshin ┆ kinktober ┆ ffg kinktober

You’ve been awfully quiet for the first few minutes, sitting beside your best friend on the edge of your bed. He chuckles when you freeze at the slightest touch, running the back of his finger down your bare shoulder, electricity making your breath shudder and the hairs all over your body prickle.

You should do well to remember it was you who invited him to your bedroom. It was you who told him someone turned you down because you were inexperienced.

“Don’t be shy now.” He props his hands behind him, bed creaking to the shift of his weight.

Ajax doesn’t need to ask to know what you’re thinking. He can tell by the way you fidget under his playful gaze, by the way you’re unable to meet his piercing blue eyes, you’re afraid to ask him certain questions. You fear overstepping any boundaries — of whatever is appropriate for two people who for the longest time have just been friends, nothing more. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But who else are you going to rely on if not your most trusted friend? Your experiences can’t even spark a flame, let alone hold a candle to his own.

“Does it…” you finally break the silence, “hurt?”

“Only a little.” He taps his finger onto the satin sheets. “But it’s okay, take your time.”

With a deep, nervous breath you stand on your feet and let your nightgown fall to your ankles, knocking the air out of Ajax’s lungs. His stare sears your skin so hot, you can’t help but cover yourself, hands instinctively covering your breasts as you’re stripped of your clothes but not of your embarrassment.

Ajax lets out a breathy chuckle as he unbuttons his shirt, wine pink staining his cheeks, and every second passes by so torturously slow. Your eyes dart to the sands piling on top of each grain in the hourglass by your bed, and you’re unsure whether to pray they’d go faster or stop falling altogether.

“It’d be faster with your help, you know,” Ajax mutters as he works his pants.

“Sorry, it’s just— I’m about to see you naked, that’s all.”

Ajax snickers. “Well, that’s how it usually works sweetie.”

He plucks your hand from your breast making you jolt back for a second but he doesn’t budge. He gives your hand a rough squeeze before sliding it down his unzipped pants, circling your palm all over his clothed hard-on. “You’ll get used to it.”

He kisses the back of your hand before pulling you closer to him to kiss your jaw, your neck, the space between your breasts.

“On the bed, sweetheart.”

Ajax pushes down on the small of your back as you crawl up the bed. You can almost hear the smirk on his face as you expose your backside to him.

“Ah!” you squeal when he runs his thumb across your folds. “Ha-A-jax~”

“So cute and puffy,” he remarks, thumb drawing slimy circles on your clit. You whine as he keeps at teasing your clit, pinching the sensitive bud before sliding two digits into your slippery hole. Your face immediately plants onto your sheets, hands gripping tight as he stretches your pussy with his fingers.

He kneels behind you and you feel his cock spring on your ass before aligning himself at your entrance.

“N-no, wait!”

He only manages to push in with the tip of his head, soothing the small of your back as he waits for your additional instruction. His knees have your legs trapped in between as you prop yourself up with your elbows.

“I-I, can you… uhm—“ your knees straighten and Ajax follows your lead, sitting on the back of your legs with his tip still inside your pussy, “let’s stay like this.”

Ajax sighs, letting you adjust to his girth, fingernails softly grazing your ass. “Suit yourself.”

He wants to put it all in so bad. His abs tense up with every clench of your pussy, fingers digging into the fat of your ass every time you do it, and he doesn’t miss the way that makes your breath hitch and your pussy tighten up even more.

His fingers lightly trail your thigh, making their way up along the side of your stomach, stopping just beneath your breast. He figures he doesn’t have to wait long when you begin to squirm and mewl underneath him, wriggling your ass for more friction on your pussy. And god, do you feel so good and tight and slippery, he must’ve slipped.

“Oh!” you cry out, skin of your knuckles thinning with how hard you grip the sheets. Ajax stretches your walls as he bottoms out, ramming his balls onto your pussy. “Mmff! Ajax~”

“What’s that?” His cock twitches inside you when he finds your fingers have made their way to your clit.

“Move.”

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[yaekiss]

#Mailroom Open!- Hello, I would like to request a love letter for Alhaitham. NSFW and Yandere response please, and any pet names work but if you could use Habib that would be great 💖 (I hope I did this right)

_______________________

"To my favorite feeble scholar,

I hope this letter is finding you well! I have arrived safely in Fontaine and haven't known a moment of peace since I have arrived. The chaotic cocktail of getting settled into a new city, preparing for this research project, and missing home makes me yearn for the simpler times spent in Sumeru.

Especially my time spent with you.

Thats enough of my lamenting, how fare things with you back home? Have you finally shaken the title of acting Grand Sage yet? Is Kaveh being too much of a "menace"? (Also, please let him know his mother says hello and sends her best wishes to you both). Regardless, I hope you are taking care yourself. Archons know I can't ensure you are eating well while I'm nations away. I will just have to trust that you are treating yourself with the same kindness I would extend to you.

On the topic of kindness, I have a gift for you attached to this letter. I know while I am here doing my research for the next six months we won't be able to have our usual meetings at Lambad's to discuss books over good food, but I hope these books will entertain you well during my absence.

I'm eagerly counting down the days until I can see you again. I find myself thinking of you often and it is a truly vexing experience to see you on whim like I would do so before. It makes the days seem to drag on even longer, but I pray time will fly by regardless of this.

-Sincerely, your wayward scholar

[In a simply decorated box, there are three books: one is on the topic on Fontaine's hydro transportation system and infrastructure, the second is about the complexities surrounding Fontaine's judicial system, and lastly is an infamous and popular erotica anthology from Fontaine (think the Karma sutra but French)]

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Alhaitham, Alhaitham calls you "habib", lightly implied abuse of power, unhealthy possessive and obsessive relationship from Alhaitham, mentions of sex toys, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: He tipped me extra and requested me to be extra careful with the delivery so I'll hand it over to you directly instead of leaving it at your door as per usual procedure! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

There’s a knock at your door when you’re relaxing in your room, opening it shows a hotel staff member who passes you a delivery. And it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s from your beloved feeble scholar.

Alhaitham sends you a simple package, nothing too gaudy or showy, just a few accents of turquoise to denote who the sender is. It’s secure and durable, perfect for weathering long and bumpy trips. 

When you open up the package, you find a few gifts he carefully arranged so that nothing would be broken if the contents were jostled around a little too hard. Gingerly, you lift out a lacquered box which reveals a set of headphones and a music player that’s almost identical to the one he owns. It rests in its cushioned groove in the box with the colours of the device matching your favourites instead of the shades of green on his set.

There’s a small note attached to the music player, “In case you ever miss me too much, you’ll have my voice as background noise for your moping, habib.” On the back of it, he’s written something akin to a track list. Flicking through the different audio files for a quick sample, you realise there’s one for every mood. Tracks with words of encouragement (...or as encouraging as someone like Alhaitham can get), ones scolding you for overworking. There’s even a really cute one where he softly hums a love song that both of you adore, his voice low and soothing. However, the best track of all might be the one where you get to hear his grunts and moans, as if he were right next to your ear in person. The sounds are so sinful and wet, you could just picture him grinding on his dildo, trying to reach his peak. And the way he pitifully breaths out a “I c-can’t cum witho- AH! -without you!” has you yearning for him yet again.

Taking the headphones off before you get too carried away, you retrieve his letter in the package. The envelope is the one from his Grand Sage office, not that he ever really uses them for work purposes. Inside it, his reply is written on parchment, the kind that’s provided for him due to his high position once again. His handwriting is as tidy as ever, the font and formatting standardised throughout the letter. His reply reads:

“Reply for: My springtime sublimity,

I was wondering when you were going to write back to me. After all, there’s no way you would’ve forgotten me in the midst of your research or from meeting someone new, right? Regardless, you have not left my mind since your departure and I’m sure it’s the same for you too habib. 

Do let me know if the gifts are to your liking. I’ve managed to recreate my headphones and they will definitely be useful in blocking out anyone else who might be getting on your nerves or when you’re trying to focus on your research. I included my latest read in the package as well. I'd like for us to discuss our thoughts on the book, even if it’ll have to be done over pen and paper. I’m eager to hear your thoughts on it.

There’s also no reason for me to answer whether I’ve managed to resign from my title as Grand Sage, as evident from the envelope and parchment used. I simply have an unfortunate one last thing to wrap up before I can do so.

Moving on, habib, you know Kaveh is always a menace. I relayed his mother’s well wishes to him earlier and he just smiled. Now he’s locked himself in his room. I never have any idea what’s in that mind of his. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t have to drag him out before he starves. Although I must ask, since when were you privy to Kaveh’s background? I don’t recall him bringing it up around us. Habib, just how close are you to him? How close has he gotten to you? Do write back to me and explain.

Now, this is where I must thank you for your gifts. They all have proven to be succinct and informative. However, I must comment on the choice of one of the books. My, I knew you were lewd before, but to send me an erotica anthology habib? Though, I never said I minded it. I am simply inspired, that's all. Perhaps, you should come back sooner and we can try some of the positions referenced in it. In the meantime, habib, I can only pleasure myself with toys, although, they’re nothing in comparison to you. I’m addicted to you, the caress of your hands on my skin, how only you can make me shudder and cry out your name. You have me wrapped around your finger.

I crave you desperately, habib. There are so many words I could use to describe you with my extensive vocabulary, but the most fitting one would be blossoming. You’ve managed to sow all these emotions in me and now that they’re blooming, you’ll take responsibility right? I’ve always been logical but the degree of affection I feel for you is irregular, all-encompassing and ever-growing. Almost as if you’re twisting the very essence of my mind, rotting and changing me from the inside out. It matches in a way, spring being the season of rebirth.

This letter has gotten too long, I will end it off here habib. I trust you will stay safe and return in one piece unharmed. I await your reply.

May your days be peaceful,

- Alhaitham -”

Setting his letter back in the package, you pick up the book he entrusted to you. Flipping through the pages, it’s littered with markings and annotations from the scribe, he even wrote some questions for you to ponder over. “What do you think about this point?” “Why would the author write this in?” But there are a few unrelated… unsettling annotations that you probably shouldn’t dwell on for too long such as, “Do you know just how much I miss you?” or “How were you able to corrupt my reason and rationality to this extent?” These annotations were left in here for a reason, Alhaitham is a smart man, a renowned member of the Haravatat. There’s a message behind his carefully selected words, waiting for you to unearth it before it festers and decays into something even worse.

Lastly, written neatly on the inside of the back cover, is a puzzling riddle, each word written in a different ancient script. After deciphering the question, an unpleasant awareness worms its way into your mind.

It reads, “Would you still extend your same kindness to me after realising what I would do for you?”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[aviiarie]

AVIE!! I SAW THAT NOW!! YOU KNOW WHO I WANT!! Arlecchino romantic PLEASE!

😶‍🌫️

The letter is sealed in a dark red envelope, with your name written in a swooping cursive across the back. There is a slightly aromatic scent that clings to the paper, caused by the fragrant-smelling tea bags tucked into the envelope.

My dearest, It has been a while since we have spoken. I do apologize for not sending this sooner. The days have been long, as of late, and I have barely the time to breathe, let alone pick up a pen and paper. That isn't to say I haven't thought of you, however. I find my thoughts drifting to you quite often. Your eyes, are the first thing I think of. Whenever I glimpse a similar shade, your face flashes in my mind. Your voice, is the second. Every so often I hear a similar tone, and I turn, expecting you to be behind me. But alas, it never is. This trip is proving to be longer than expected, but I am expecting to be returning soon. When I come home, do boil some water so we can share some tea together. In the meantime, I have left some tea bags in this letter. It is a new flavour, I think you will enjoy it. That is enough about myself. It has been too long since I have heard from you, so please—tell me everything. Tell me about how you have been faring in my absence; the exciting, the mundane, I wish to hear everything I have missed. No matter how trivial it may be to you, I will treasure every detail. I will be awaiting your response. With love, Arlecchino

(ask game!)