Ii. To The Enduring Emperor: Mercy, Mercy. | Yan Zhongli X Reader

― YANDERE! GENSHIN ACADEMY AU. pt one | two | three | four

⇢ scaramouche, thoma, arataki itto, gorou / gn! reader

introducing! this academy has plenty of cultures mashing together, and what would it be without inazuma? hailing from the land of eternity, three eccentric characters join their fellow inazuman kazuha as well as your mentally unstable harem to fight for your heart. some of them… don’t exactly mesh well, but their goal for your heart to be theirs eternally are the same!

warning! yandere, obsessive & possessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, delusional behavior, scaramouche is here do i really need to explain it to u, mentions of violence, brief mention of collaring 

author’s note! i refuse to make scara anything else but the dirty lil grime boy that he is. he goes absolutely fucking feral, that man. killed off my teppei. lil shit im gonna punt u so hard once u become playable. Make sure u die next to signora and childe you fuckin shit. /holds up this 4’11 sonovabitch/ /immediately chucks him into the pacific/ mihoyo if his voicelines aren’t him cussing out traveler and bitching about every little thing im suing for false advertisement

— SADISTIC TYPE. scaramouche | 散兵

[ “hmph, lowly little thing. and what do you think you’re staring at?” ]

⇢ scara (derogatory). no redeeming qualities. pure fucking evil. he’s been a constant thorn in your side ever since you entered the academy and has been that way since forever. what sort of prestigious academy allows a no-name rat like you to enter, hm? it takes all of your willpower to not throw a punch at his face.

⇢ he’s not arrogant for nothing. although the two of you are in the same year, he’s completely in another level of his own. he can throw down the strongest of people in your school, is the top student in your level, plays multiple traditional instruments, and has abilities super-fucking-incomprehensible that you stop to think if he really is human. if only he’d keep his mouth shut, then his graded behavior wouldn’t drag him down.

⇢ when you’re seatmates… god, it’s just pure torture. scaramouche doesn’t need to listen to whatever these plebeian teachers have to offer, but he needs the attendance or else his big sisters ei and makoto will berate him at home and he’s too tired to put up with their shit. he likes poking you with the sharp end of his compass, or if long enough, will tug on your hair to annoy you. actually fuck that, he will pull on your hair no matter what the length.

⇢ if you talk back, archons, you’re in for a time. there is nothing he hates more than being embarrassed. he’s already had enough of being compared to with his third-year sisters who are oh so divine and elegant and charming and fucking bullshit. makoto he can slightly put up with, but ei? oh how he’d love to see her destroyed. everything he’s worked so hard for was natural talent for ei, and every time he had caught up to her she ascended levels he thought was unreachable. but destroying her was too big of a plan, so you’re here, under his hands, as his little stress ball.

⇢ how delightful :) he just barges into your home unannounced, playing the part of an agreeable young man and wearing a pleasant smile on his lips for your family. he watches in quiet amusement as you squirm uncomfortably on the sofa while they fawn over your supposed ‘boyfriend’ and how you shouldn’t let such a handsome man go. once the two of you are alone in your bedroom, the smug smirk on his face is hard to miss.

⇢ “you hear that?” he croons, taking your hands in his and pressing a kiss against your knuckles, as if mocking you with his gentlemanly play. “they say i’m your boyfriend.” the way he manhandles you next, how he makes you crawl and tug you by your collar, is so far from the act he was playing, but he still smiled at you innocently as he ground the heel of your shoe into your stomach.

⇢ what a cute little toy you are, really.

[ “now, now, no need to be so frustrated. you should be charmed to be mistaken as my lover.” ]

Keep reading

In the middle of the storm

Summary: A storm, a hard landing, an unexpected company and many feelings exposed.

A/N: English is not my first language. Sorry for mistakes. Valyrian isn't my language either. Just a detail, although the events of Storm's End happened here in this story, Lucerys is still alive. Because I want it to be and period hahaha have fun!!

Warnings: nsfw, f!reader, reader is a year older than jacaerys, velaryon/strong reader, sex, targcest, aemond very possessive, pet names, dirty talk, some soft feelings ❤️🥰

"Lykirī, ñuhys raqiros." (Calm down, my friend.) You whispered to your dragon, feeling Merax's annoyed snore shake your body gently. An amused laugh leaves your lips as Merax struggles to do as you've asked. You've been gliding beneath the clouds for a while now, the vastness of the night sky your only company. But Merax felt something, he could see and feel much better than you the clouds getting thick and thunder rumbling in the distance, he smelled a strong storm approaching and he was getting agitated trying to somehow warn you about it.

The two of you were coming from a visit to the Riverlands, looking for allies for the Black's. You came back with good news, which was very rare these days. Your spirit was positively uplifted. After many disappointments, finally some good news to give you some hope. You had the support of a great house now, with resources and numbers that would certainly make a difference in the face of a possible clash.

As your brother Jacaerys had said, dragons were decidedly more convincing than ravens sending messages. Merax, with all his size and sturdiness, made a pretty obvious point in his silent threat that things wouldn't end well if the answer was no. And besides, of course you were prepared to offer your own hand in marriage as an offer of alliance, as ridiculous and oppressive as that sounded to you. But a war was about to break out, you couldn't afford to believe that sacrifices weren't necessary. You were willing to do that, if it meant the Lord of Riverrun's support. You'd sell yourself like cattle if you had to, willing to do anything to ensure your mother's victory. His acceptance was all the motivation the other Lords of the Riverlands needed to also swear their loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra again, as they had done years ago when the then King Viserys Targaryen named her his rightful heir.

Yes, you were engaged now, but it could be worse. Your fiancé wasn't nasty as you knew many were. Indeed, Lord Tully was a good-looking young man; tall, auburn hair, beautiful blue eyes. He also had status as a well-recognized house and a great education. And he had treated you very well during the short time you were in Riverrun for the negotiations.

It wasn't the wedding you had dreamed of for yourself. But it could be much worse, you knew.

You felt the wind abruptly getting stronger at the same time as raindrops began to fall hard on your face, pulling you out of your thoughts. Merax growled and shook off his head. You knew your dragon well enough to know he was upset that you hadn't heeded his warnings sooner. "Ziry iksos separ daomikydoso, Merax. Īlon jahor sagon sȳz." (It's just rain, Merax. We'll be fine.) You said at the same time that lightning whizzed right next to both of you, making you jump in fright. Merax roared louder, shaking his black scales in annoyance.

Merax was very protective of you. From the first flight, both formed a strong bond that surprised many. Merax was a full-grown dragon, strong and terrifying. He was not afraid of rain and lightning, not least because there was nothing to fear, since he himself was a force of nature. But he wanted to protect you, he knew you were different from him obviously. Even if Targaryen blood ran through your veins and made you tougher than others, you were still human. And therefore susceptible to disease and disaster which, for a dragon like Merax, wouldn't be a problem. Whenever you both flew in conditions similar to this, he would get irritated and annoyed. You knew he would fly home in that angry, mumbling state. And there was still a long way to go to Dragonstone, you thought with a snort, it would be an irritating journey.

"Nyke tepagon bē, ao uēpa zaldrizes!" (I give up, you old dragon!) Merax seemed to be pleased with your giving up, though he growled at the nickname. You laughed feeling your hair stick to your rain-soaked face. "Ivestragī's jikagon ilagon, Merax!" (To the ground, Merax!) He wasted no time and obeyed you, shrinking his gigantic wings as he descended fast. You spread your arms, trusting the straps around your body so you could enjoy the freezing rain hitting your face harder on the way down, the strength of the wind against you making you let out an excited yelp knowing no one but Merax could hear. It's been a long time since you felt like this, so free. The obligations and pressures of a war knocking at your doors left everyone tense and with no time for fun. But, heavens, you missed it.

Merax spread its wings again as you both neared the ground, and you turned your attention to where you were going. The rain was very heavy, as was the fog, but when you finally managed to see the ground, you realized that you were under a field of crops. Merax continued gliding along the ground for a while until he reached an area with a large lake, some rocks and mountains around it. His huge paws touched the muddy ground once, twice, three times until he finally dug his claws into the ground to stop. You looked around for where you could take shelter and saw that farther away was a ramshackle shack, clearly abandoned. But it had a semi-decent roof, which would serve to quell the storm until it was safe to fly again. At first you were irritated at the thought of stopping the trip for a silly drizzle, but with the gale shaking your body on top of Merax, the torrential rain that was falling now and the thunder and lightning bursting in your ears louder and louder, you agreed to yourself - with a frown on your face - that Merax was right.

But your dragon wasn't relaxed like you thought he would be when you decided to give in and do his bidding. He looked even more tense now, in fact. Wings outstretched, slightly crouched posture and sharp teeth bared in a menacing snarl as he stared up at the sky. He was ready to fight. But what was it here that posed a threat to a terrifying dragon like Merax?

You could barely see a hand in front of you with the rain pouring down the way it was, but even so you brushed your soaked hair out of your eyes and tried very hard to see what threatened Merax.

At first you didn't notice anything. The only sounds you could hear were the rain falling in full force and Merax's growl below your body. But then a familiar roar sounded above your head, a fierce roar that had you straightening your body in Merax's cell, alert.

Vhagar.

You knew it was her, having heard that roar again before. After your aunt's funeral, after your uncle, Aemond, to claim Vhagar and lose his eye for it. You heard her roar when her rider was wounded, and you never forgot it. It was the same roar as now. And if Vhagar was here, so was Aemond. You haven't seen him since the family dinner fiasco where he humiliated you and your brothers. You had nothing against Aemond, in fact you had defended him when you both were children and your brothers along with his brother made cruel jokes with him. But clearly his uncle was no longer the boy he was before, the intentions of his heart being completely unknown to you at this point. Lucerys recounted a cruel pursuit when he was at Storm's End seeking the support of Lord Borros Baratheon. Thank the gods your brother had managed to escape along with Arrax, but it had been close.

You didn't know what Aemond wanted, or even what he was capable of, and even though neither the Blacks nor the Greens had made a violent move against each other yet, you couldn't help but puff your chest out in preparation. What if Aemond decided to do to you what he did to Lucerys? A cruel and malicious pursuit. Merax was a full-grown dragon, much older than you, perhaps he had even battled another dragon before. You couldn't tell. He hadn't had a fitter for many years before you claimed him for yourself. Until then he was considered a wild dragon, without an owner. But anyway since you became his rider, the two of you hadn't fought another dragon directly before. Much less one of Vhagar's size and experience. You knew that in strength you both wouldn't win, as Merax was smaller than her. But maybe if you kept your cool and a objective strategy, you could escape just like Arrax and Lucerys.

How the hell did Aemond know you were here? You didn't even know you'd be here!

Through the haze of the heavy curtain of rain Vhagar crossed above you, much closer this time. Merax roared aloud in defiance and turned his large body to match her movements.

"Lykirī, Merax." You said in a firm tone, trying to calm your dragon who was starting to act on instinct in the face of the possible threat. You knew you couldn't ask him to fly now, the weather wouldn't favor you. You had no option but to wait for Aemond and Vhagar's first move and then act accordingly.

With a loud thud that shook the earth below you, Vhagar landed. Her giant body oozing rivers of water as she shook her head and her wings with a roar. Merax was restless, not knowing exactly what that meant, but deducing that he was hostile. His paws propelled him forward instinctively, though you again said "Lykirī". But he ignored your request - for the first time - and continued on his way to Vhagar, growling and spreading his wings in defiance.

This was too bad.

Aemond's blond head popped out from behind Vhagar's neck and you could see that he was holding tightly to the ropes that connected her body, pulling on them as he shouted a "Dohaerās, Vhagar". He was trying to control her. So he didn't want to fight. It was just two dragons acting on instinct.

This spurred you to action and before Merax approached Vhagar to the point of no return you also firmly gripped the ropes near the cell, lifting your body a little to gain momentum and shouted as sternly as you could: "DOHAERĀS, MERAX!" He hesitated, wanting to continue walking, but confused by your determination to deny him that. "KELĪTĪS!" You ordered him to a stop with a strong tug on the ropes. Your resolve being tested by the dragon, you knew.

Obviously annoyed and still angry, Merax roared but stopped his advance towards the other dragon. Aemond also having succeeded in taming Vhagar, looked at you soaked in his cell.

"But what the hell do you think you're doing, Aemond? You know you shouldn't approach a full-grown dragon like that! Are you wanting to start the war today?!" You shouted from above Merax to Aemond, trying to control your heart that was beating desperately at the possibility of a fight between the two dragons.

Aemond didn't answer you, instead descending from Vhagar with all the mastery and grace that only a Prince and Rider of his level would have. Even if though he looked like a drowned cat. You watched him turn his back on you and walk across the muddy earth towards the run-down shack.

You stared at him open-mouthed, not understanding anything about this situation.

"Are you going to keep screaming like an animal at slaughter or are you going to seek shelter from this storm, niece?" He spoke loudly over the noise of the rain without stopping his walk. Merax seriously torn between facing Vhagar to the death or facing Aemond, fearful he might offer you harm.

"Nyke'll sagon sȳz, nyke kivio. Sagon sȳz naejot se gevie riñnykeā toliot konīr." (I'll be fine, I promise. Be kind to the beautiful Lady over there.) You said fondly, nodding in Vhagar's direction as you smoothed Merax's hard scales. Somehow Vhagar heard your words and growled at you. You widened your eyes and left as quickly as possible, almost running towards the shack. Far be it from you to want to be the target of Grandma Vhagar's wrath.

You entered the house, which had no door or window, both broken into and decaying on the floor. Large piles of hay scattered across the decrepit floor. Streams of rainwater seeping through the wood of the ceiling and the corners of the walls to the floor. It was all crap. But it kept most of the rain outside, and that in itself was a mercy.

Aemond stood by the broken window, no longer wearing his heavy black coat and leather shirt, wearing only a long-sleeved shirt. Hands clasped behind him, posture perfectly upright looking at the gale outside, water still dripping from his hair and clothes. You stood there in the doorway, eyeing him suspiciously, the one-room house being too small to house all the strangeness that had formed around you both over the years. You didn't trust him. He insulted you more than once by calling you a bastard. He almost killed your brother. He was your rival.

"Are you going in or are you going to keep staring at me until the storm passes?" He grumbled without looking at you. Your bored voice unnerved you. You huffed and walked into the house. The sound of the wind on the boards making the house creak in a frightening way, as well as the flashes of lightning.

You walked in circles around the room, feeling soaked to the bone and shivering. Your boots soaked in water, your thick shirt half red and half black weighing your body so wet and your riding pants clinging to your skin in an irritating way, as well as the gloves on your hands.

You were smart, you'd read enough books to know that keeping your clothes wet on your body in this cold weather wasn't going to end well for you. Chills disease being, in most cases, fatal for those who catch it. And it all starts with a cold. You were one step away from entering a war, you couldn't afford to die from a damn cold.

You knew what to do.

But where could you muster the courage to take off your clothes while standing right in front of your slightly psychotic-leaning uncle?

You stood there debating the options, whether it would be better to work up the courage to do what you knew needed to be done or whether it was better to risk catching a disease and dying, when Aemond turned to you.

"I can hear your teeth chattering even over the roar of the storm, child." He said with a cocky smile, not unclasping his hands behind his body.

Child? You two were almost the same age!

"As if you weren't freezing after that storm too, you idiot!" You screamed, offended and embarrassed, trying to control your jaw quivering in the cold.

He just shrugged.

You felt your body shivering more and more, the cold of your clothes getting deeper into your skin as time passed.

"Take it off." he said, suddenly impatient, taking you by surprise.

"N-no!" You responded too quickly to be considered natural. Yes, you knew it had to be done. But hearing the command from his mouth made you irritated and embarrassed.

Aemond sighed, as if the whole situation was beyond him, as if he didn't deserve to be here with you.

"Come on girl. You and I both know it needs to be done. Let's get this over with." He grumbled walking towards you, as if he was going to take off your clothes himself. Your eyes widened like plates and your cheeks heated up when you realized that.

"I do it alone!" Your desperate words left your lips before he could get any closer.

Gathering courage, you undid the click of the chain that held your sodden cloak around your neck, hanging the fabric over one of the many old boards propped up against the wall. Then you bent down and removed your boots and gloves. Never once did you dare lift your eyes to Aemond, or else you would lose your nerve. Being in his presence for some reason made your heart race and your body tingle in a way it shouldn't have. Your fingers were shaking — you told yourself it was just the cold — as you unbuttoned the long-sleeved shirt, slowly pulling it off his shoulders.

God, why was he still standing right there watching everything?

And more importantly, why weren't you yelling at him about it?

You were feeling overwhelmed with emotions, none of which you should be feeling.

With a final sigh you finished pulling the heavy shirt over your arms, and without stopping to think too much, you pulled your pants down too, leaving only a thin, loose shirt that reached mid-thigh. Your arms instantly crossed in front of your breasts as you remembered that the shirt was also wet and therefore transparent. You wouldn't take that shirt off, even if it meant your death. But stark naked in front of Aemond you wouldn't be. In your peripheral vision you noticed him shifting from one foot to the other, looking impatient. You could have sworn you saw him reach out, but he quickly forced her back behind the body.

You didn't have time to think about the bizarre strangeness of the situation, as he quickly turned around and picked up a pile of hay, placing it in the center of the room, gathering some sticks and rubbing them together trying to generate a spark . Understanding what he was going to do, you felt yourself relax a little, the thought of warming up a bit being very welcome at this point. Targaryen blood or not, the cold was more than you could bear.

Soon you found yourself watching with totally unexpected fascination the mesmerizing way in which Aemond's large hands - thickly veined, you couldn't help noticing - twirled the sticks deftly over the dry hay. The way he gently blew to help sparks turn to flame. The way he seemed to do it easily, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. He gave you a tranquility and control of the situation that left you not knowing what to think.

A flame finally appeared among the hay and Aemond quickly surrounded it with the palm of his hand to keep the wind from blowing it out. He gathered more hay until that flame was higher, then put some sticks and wood chips he found on the ground to make the flame last longer.

You standing around the whole time watching in awe.

When the fire was strong enough to sustain itself, Aemond stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. Just like that.

You haven't had the time or mental preparation to see Aemond's sculpted chest and muscled abs to perfection. His skin glistened with the wetness of the rain against the fire's flames, creating a mesmerizing shadow. White hair clinging to shoulders and chest. He bent down to take off his boots - by divine mercy he left his pants in place - then stood up and turned his back on you. You gasped when you realized he was taking off his eye patch. He gathered his long hair in his hands and wrung out any excess water. Then he put the eye patch back in place and turned to you again.

Still not speaking, he sat down against the wall, facing the fire. You didn't know what to do, the roar of the storm still loud outside preventing you from leaving, but the awkwardness of being practically naked with Aemond in this abandoned cabin also didn't let you relax.

You should have stayed one more day in Riverrun.

"Sit down before you freeze in that position, niece." Aemond grunted, leaning his head against the wall and closing his violet eye. "Come here by my side and warm up." His words could have been interpreted as concern for you if he hadn't said it so bored. But he was right, you would really end up freezing like that. With your arms still covering your breasts, you moved closer until you crouched down and sat next to him, keeping a safe distance of course.

You stood there in total silence for a long time, long enough for you to feel your hair starting to dry. He still has his eyes closed - maybe even sleeping - and you're staring at the flames slowly consuming the pieces of wood. You had the urge to go see Merax many times during this period, but you held back. He was a full-grown dragon, he knew his way around much better than you.

Hearing the creaking of wood between the flames you glanced sideways at your unwanted companion, watching the adam's apple rise and fall slowly as he swallowed once, his hair a bit disheveled now as it began to dry without the aid of a brush, his arms supported on both bent knees. Oh, the defined muscles of his arms, firm forearms with prominent veins.

You really needed to go.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond would also stare at you when you weren't paying attention, watching the way you hugged your knees to your chest, the way you rested your head on them as you stared into the flames. Your half-dry hair rebels around your face, your eyes reflecting the fire's flames, your smooth skin flushed...

There was a tension between the two of you, and that tension increased with every second you were trapped in this cabin.

You turned your head again to look at him, but this time you found him with his eye open, already looking at you. The shock of seeing his violet eye glowing with the firelight was so great that you sighed and couldn't take your eyes off it.

"What were you doing in the Riverlands?" He asked slowly, not taking his eye off yours.

You knew this moment would come. Two rivals trapped under the same roof without trying to get information from each other? It was impossible to remain like this for long.

"You know very well what I went to do, uncle." You said lifting your chin in defiance.

"Hmm." He said still very calm, looking you up and down, making you feel uneasy. "I was planning to pay a visit to the Riverlands myself soon." His voice sounded superb, as if he knew he had more to offer than you. It irritated you.

"I find it difficult for Lord Tully to consider a better offer than marrying his eldest son to a Targaryen, his grandchildren will have dragons and his son will be King consort once I am Queen, as I am in the line of succession to the Iron Throne." You said it loud and clear, daring him to retort.

In fact you never boasted about being in the line of succession to the throne. You were, unfortunately, a year older than Jacaerys, being your mother's rightful heir and therefore next in line. But unlike your brother, you didn't want to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You never made a point of reminding anyone of that. But the pleasure of finally getting a thrill out of Aemond, seeing his pupil dilate at your words and his jaw tense, made it worth using your ace up your sleeve.

"Are you engaged to the Tully boy?" He repeated his words slowly, as if he was struggling to keep calm.

You didn't think that would be the part he would fixate on. The question of who would sit on the Iron Throne was the point you imagined your two discussion would focus on.

"First of all, he's not a boy. Lord Edward Tully is a man. And yes, I'm engaged to him. Not that it concerns you, dear uncle." You said the last part muttering, turning your attention to the flames of the bonfire.

"You're fighting to be the fucking Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and you intend to have a scum of Tully for a husband? Is that serious?!" He looked angry, his words carrying a weight that left you shivering and alert.

"What does it matter to you who will be my husband, Aemond?" You said standing up, which he responded by standing up too. His height intimidated you, but you would never let him see it. "This is war, in case you haven't noticed! We need allies. I know even you understand that, since your visit to Storm's End wasn't just to offer pompous words to Lord Borros, or to threaten my brother in a stupid pursuit, I suppose." In your rage you forgot the indecency of your clothes and dropped your hands in front of your body, only realizing it when Aemond lowered his heated gaze to your breasts.

You tried to cross your arms again, but he was faster. Aemond took you by the arm and shoved you hard into the wall, your head banging uncomfortably on the weathered wood. But you didn't have time to think about that because Aemond's tall, hot body was soon on top of yours, pinning you down. The heat of his bare chest against you, one of his hands resting on the wall beside your face, the other cupping your chin. His face coming too close to yours, too close.

You feared what he would do to you now. You were at a disadvantage here, your dagger still stuck in your pants, now drying away from you. Your recklessness in letting your guard down near the enemy could cost you dearly.

His chest pressed your body even closer to the wall, the two of you so close it would be hard for even a hair to get between you. His mouth went to your ear, his hand still gripping your jaw tightly.

"You're shaking so much, princess." He said slowly against the sensitive skin of your ear, the soft brush of his lips and hot breath sending an intense shiver through your body. You had no answer to his statement. "humm" he let out an amused growl against your neck as he dragged his nose along your skin. "You know, a princess like you deserves better than a shitty marriage to a miserable lord." He said before licking your neck, making you sigh and instinctively recoil at the unexpected sensation. This was so wrong.

"I don't understand… Why do you care so much about this? Why now?" Your fragile voice leaving your throat as you felt him leave a mark on your skin. Your hands went to his shoulders, feeling his skin tight and warm. Your intention was to push him away from you, but Aemond chose that moment to push a knee between your legs, which made you cling to him instead of pushing. He forced you to spread your legs to accommodate his between yours. Even though you had every reason in the world to refuse, you found yourself leaving.

"You've always been a fierce little thing, haven't you? Always speaking your mind and chasing what you want." He lifted his head from your neck to stare at you, even as his knee pressed against the sensitive spot between your legs, the damp fabric of his pants rubbing against your most intimate area. "But not with me. You've always treated me well, even defending me when I needed to." He caressed your nose with his, thumb circling your cheek. "I will not let any lord take what was always rightfully mine." The last words whispered into your mouth before he pulled your into his.

You knew this was wrong, he was a threat to you and your family. He was arrogant and stubborn. Your brother had almost died because of him. He thought you were nothing but a bastard.

You knew all this. And yet, you found yourself responding to the kiss.

Aemond's slightly chapped lips touched yours with purpose, after all he wasn't one for subtlety. His mouth devoured yours hungrily, forcing you to part your lips for air, and at that moment his tongue invaded your mouth. You stood on tiptoe to facilitate the kiss, one hand holding his neck and the other going to the back of his head, where you grabbed some of the damp hair and tugged. The hoarse groan he released into your mouth electrified you, left you hungry for more. You could barely breathe, the way he licked your mouth, encouraging your tongue to dance with his, making you dizzy with need.

Heavens, the frustrated experience of kissing the baker's son definitely didn't compare to this.

Aemond's big hands went under your shirt, gripping your waist and forcing your body to rub against his leg, nearly making you straddle his thigh. You pulled away from the kiss and slammed your head against the wood behind you, closing your eyes and moaning as you felt your clit brush hard against the rough fabric of his pants. Almost to the point of hurting, but it only served to turn you on even more.

You ran your hands over his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles and watching him shiver as you dragged your nails across his abdomen. His forehead pressed against yours, his violet gaze never leaving yours as he breathed faster. Grinning mischievously you continued your hand down until you touched the big bulge inside his pants, closing your hand around it. Aemond growled into your lips as you gasped in surprise at the size of him.

He suddenly pushed his way between your bodies to unbutton his pants and pull his cock out, always looking at you. Grabbing your buttocks he pulled your body up until you wrapped your legs around him. You moaned loudly as you felt him drag his hard cock against your soaking pussy, up and down, dragging hot skin against your clit.

"I want to hear you moan my name, love. Say who's making you feel good." His voice was husky and slurred as he kissed your ear.

"A-Aemond..." You sighed, moaning each time you felt the hot head of his cock nudging your sensitive clit. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over your head, leaving your breasts visible to him.

"Look at this love, and you want me to accept that this is going to belong to another man?" He growled and lowered his head to lick your nipple, holding it in his mouth and swirling his tongue. You tried to move your hips faster, but Aemond had an iron grip on you, forcing you to accept what he gave.

"Aemond, please more…more…" You begged, tugging at the root of his hair, trying to get him to look at you. He released your breasts and looked at you, his violet iris being almost entirely dark with need.

"Look at this, love, look at our bodies together, where they belong…" He whispered, forcing you to look at where his cock rose and fell against your intimacy. "Fuck baby, you're so wet. It must be fucking heaven inside you." He growled without taking his eyes from the junction of your bodies, just like you. The eroticism of the situation making you cringe in need around nothing.

"But I won't." He said and you felt euphoric, desperate to think he would deny you that. "I'm not going to take your virginity in a ramshackle tent, baby. No, I'm going to fuck you for the first time in a bed, damn, how the spoiled fucking princess you are deserves to be fucked." He continued to rub his cock into you, making you clench your legs in anticipation of the coming orgasm, your moans getting louder. Your arousal was such that his cock slid easily between your folds. "So be a good girl and come on my cock right here, now, love." He said continuously slamming his cock into your clit, sending you straight into a spiral of pleasure. Your needy moan sounded loud in the cabin as your body shook, your pussy contracting rhythmically with nothing inside, your hands gripping Aemond's hair tightly.

He laughed breathlessly, ecstatic to see your fall and allowing himself to fall too. Thick, white cords of come painted the skin of your belly, running down to your pussy as he moaned hoarsely. Aemond smeared as much of his seed as he could on your body, the knowledge that you were going to go home with his dry cum under your clothes driving him crazy.

Your legs were still shaking as he sat on the floor with you still on his lap, your mouths meeting in a wet, slow kiss. Your bodies now wet with sweat instead of rainwater.

You leaned your forehead against his, trying to control your ragged breathing. Aemond kissing the contours of her jaw and neck with a caress you'd never expect from him.

The whole experience had been surreal for you. The fact that you'd been trapped in an abandoned cabin with your uncle, argued, and that argument had led to the two of you committing such a blatant act of obscenity, horrified you now. But at the same time you were ecstatic to have done the craziest thing of your life. You were always a rule breaker, there was no denying it.

But the war between the family was still going on, you knew. This interaction between the two of you could go nowhere.

"What are you thinking, princess?" Aemond saw your expression change, he knew you were trapped in your own emotions. His big hand cupped your face and pulled your lips down for a gentle kiss.

"That doesn't change a thing, Aemond. I'm still going to marry Edward Tully, I hope you know that." You said, trying to convince not him but yourself too.

Aemond frowned, his expression suddenly dark. But he soon masked it with a sly, wicked smile.

"That's what we'll see, niece."

Think of Me | Yan!Venti x Reader x Yan!Diluc Opera AU

Summary: Master Diluc, the infamous composer, has been the Opera's greatest star for years now, being a favorite among the elite, as well as your devoted teacher. Nevertheless, Venti's growing popularity among the masses garners your attention.

Credits: This series is heavily inspired by Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera”, as well as Bernard Rose’s “The Devil’s Violinist”. This short fic is part of the Opera AU series. Warnings: General Dark and Yandere themes, implied stalking

“She may not remember me, but I remember her” ― "The Phantom of the Opera".

You had heard about the joyful bard that enraptured the public's attention. Known to play in the lesser of stages, as some would call them: places such as taverns, bars, and busy streets. He seemed to dislike and criticize the pretentiousness that surrounded the Opera you worked in, to the point of refusing to lend any of his compositions to be adapted to the greatest stage of all.

You met him while running your usual errands outside the Opera, a few weeks after your debut, joining the multitude comprised of people of all standings who gathered around the small plaza to listen to him play the lyre and, just like them, became instantly fascinated by his whimsical style.

He dressed... extravagantly. His clothes were mismatched and had patches from different materials, which you found endearing and sort of charming. The only thing of value he seemed to carry was his lyre and the small hat that sat on the floor to collect tips, which was filled to the brim.

After apparently recognizing you, the mysterious bard asked you to join him for a very popular love song, the type that your Maestro would think of as too mundane and corny, making you hesitate for a minute before you ended up agreeing after some pressure in the guise of encouragement from the audience.

To your surprise, never in your entire career had you had that much fun singing. His music reflected in many ways the nature you had long before Master Diluc discovered you. It had a lively, effervescent joyfulness to it. It had no need for perfection, nor the dark exigency that you had become used to with Master Diluc's complicated pieces. Its simplicity felt right and freeing, and it brought you to happier times when you practiced for the choir try-outs as a child. The melody felt like a memory, which in turn felt like home.

His gaze rested on you for the entire performance, with a strange understanding, as if he knew you from a time past and this was the culmination of a long-awaited reunion. The same type of longing look a foreigner makes after hearing someone speak the same language as them.

The melodious last note is mixed with the loud cheer from the audience, which had doubled during the song. You raise your hand over your lips as you let a small giggle escape them, slightly surprised and amused by how you'd lost yourself in the performance.

Seeking the gaze of the bard, you are, for a moment, slightly taken aback.

By what, exactly? It was hard to pin down, as his eyes had an eerie and slightly unsettling quality of grim delight, of somber joyfulness…if such words could ever be used to describe the same thing. But it gave you the feeling that, despite the triviality of this moment, something had occurred.

The cheering stops abruptly, promptly followed by startled gasps that draw your attention. The audience in front of you begins to divide into a clear line, and your heart stops at the sight of your Maestro. Your smile died down instantly.

In unconscious response to the coldness of Master Diluc's gaze, you lower your eyelids and bow your head, surveying his dark profile in secret from beneath your lashes. Silence reigned, as fascination settled in among the crowd. He had a certain quality that created a conception of him as a being with a superior understanding of everything beautiful and solemn, the one and only authority when it came to music. You yourself were tightly enmeshed by it and felt in debt to your beloved Maestro, who had miraculously condescended to favor you over the rest.

The air condensed as he approached, his slow steps matching the slow thick strokes of your heartbeat. People started to feel the awkward tension, but the young bard stood unbothered by him, a charming smile illuminating his face. They exchanged some common courtesies, and even vaguer compliments, but you could barely pay any attention to them.

Your whole perception of your surroundings was hazy at best, barely making up something along the lines of: "Maestro Diluc! I borrowed your little songbird for a tune, I'm sure you don't mind" and "You heard about me, Sir? I'm flattered!", which sounded... almost like mocking, but Master Diluc tilted his head anyways, which seemed to lift the tension for a moment.

After a short indication, you wrap your arm around his, ready to leave the small, sunny plaza for his somber candlelit kingdom. Just before you start walking, the bard gently takes your hand, raising it up to his lips.

"It truly was my pleasure, Miss."

You feel Master Diluc's arm tense immediately but says nothing as you thank your previous music partner with a small bow. As both of you turn your backs to the bard, you see him reach into his pocket and pull out a single bill, which he drops into the bard's tipping hat, skidding over the coins to the dirty floor.

"Is it true? Are you absolutely sure?"

"I saw it with my own eyes! They brought the music sheet to the Director's office, but I think it appeared in her dressing room first, signed "Venti the bard" and all. Apparently, he wants no other singer, that's his sole condition."

"I thought he didn't like Opera Houses"

"Well, something must've changed his mind."

#FIRST TIME !

;feat. xiao, thoma, + kazuha / afab!reader

;contents. loss of virginity, pining, corruption, my clit enthusiasm shines thru, wet&messy, creampie, dirty talk, sweet talk, praise kink, -- warnings on individual parts. NOT EDITED SORRY!!!!

;request. idk if you already got a request like this, but could you do a ‘first time’ scenario with xiao, kazuha, and thoma as these soft doms that y/n’s been dating for a while but they refuse to make a move bc they don’t want to feel like they’re disrespecting y/n? That is until one day, the both of them realize that they both mutually have been pining for it.

｡˚ a/n. thank you for requesting !!!! i apologize for the unhinged filth this turned out to be idk what came over me

✣ all characters presumed to be 18+

୨୧ minors do not interact. reblogs/comments appreciated!

requests are open!

୭ XIAO

cw: ur both insecure, hurt/comfort, crybaby!reader, sweet!xiao to feral!xiao, wet&messy, cunnilingus, fingering, choking if u squint, immense build up of foreplay, dacryphilia, lots of breast worship

he's very respectful + he's got kind of low self worth so he often feels like he's not good enough for you + so he never pushes any boundary you set + despite the fact that he wishes he could caress you and kiss every inch of your body + he holds himself back + until you break first by tearfully asking if he even finds you attractive + he's more than happy to show you just how much he appreciates every part of you <3

the sight of your tears makes him feel sick to his stomach. anxiety, something he hasn't felt in so long, bubbles up as he rushes to you. he holds your wet cheeks in his gloved hands, urging you to meet his gaze.

it breaks his heart, the tears that are welled on your lashes before the drip down your cheeks. your lips wobble as you sniffle, hands coming up to hold his biceps with trembling hands.

"why are you crying?" his voice comes out softer than he expected -- a tone he's been practicing on using with you since you sometimes mistake his coldness for maliciousness.

"i...i feel like you don't...you don't like me, xiao," your voice breaks and so does his very soul.

"what?" he feels breathless as he asks. how could you ever think that?

he knows that he's not the best at expressing himself. but he's trying. and he thought you saw that. maybe he wasn't clear enough? maybe he wasn't improving as well as he thought he was?

his mind races with millions of thoughts, his own frame beginning the shake at the sorrowful mess he's reduced you to without even realizing.

how long had you been feeling this way? were you bottling you tears up without him knowing? he felt like a fool, he felt awful -- he's so clearly, shamefully failed you and he doesn't know what to do.

"don't you find me pretty, xiao?" you weakly ask.

everything halts in that moment. his brain is silent, all thoughts on pause except your question that replays over and over in his head.

he's silent for far too long it seems because your face crumples before you're sobbing, pushing him away before rushing to the bed where you hide your face in the pillow, hoping to cry your sorrows away.

xiao stands still for a moment before he's quickly following you. approaching the bed, he watched the way your shoulders heave as you cry.

you feel stupid. of course someone like xiao wouldn't find a simple little human like you pretty. he's no doubt seen dozens of beauties in his time being alive. how could you ever hope to compare to gods and adepti alike?

"i..." he starts, placing his hand on your back, slowly stroking along your spine, wracking his brain for how he can convey what it is he feels, "i find you..." he clears his throat, "i find you intoxicating. you're addictive. i want you all the time, i want to be in your presence every moment of the day. i want to be able to watch you smile and...be the reason for your smile. i think that you...are the most...divine creature i have ever seen in all my life."

his cheeks and ears are burning by the time he finishes. he doesn't like feeling so vulnerable, laying his every desire and thought out for you to absorb.

he finds that you've fallen silent. it takes a moment before you finally look at him. even after crying your heart out, you're still so lovely to him. he can't help but reach out and touch your cheek again.

"do you...really mean that, xiao?" you ask, slowly sitting up. you look apprehensive as you inch towards him, looking up at him from where you kneel on the bed.

"i do..." he breathes, "i've learned...so much from you. but i still need to learn so much more. but i am always trying to be..." he pauses, brows coming together as he frowns, "to be good enough for someone so good like you."

"i...i really love you, xiao," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle with your head resting on his taut stomach, "and i want you to love me too."

"i do," he answers without hesitation, cupping the back of your head, "i love you."

you squeeze him a little tighter, "then why haven't you shown me?"

"what do you mean?" he asks, wracking his brain for ways he could possibly show you. he makes sure to kiss you when he gets home and when he leaves, he holds you while you sleep, he consciously makes sure to sweetly touch you so you know that he wants to be near you.

what could he possibly be missing?

"you never try to touch me," you whisper.

"i am touching you," he speaks so softly in return, carefully caressing the back of your head to reiterate his words.

"not like that," you look up at him once again and he sees how your gaze changes. how shy and small you look, almost embarrassed as you say it, "a different touch...like...like this..."

his breath hitches when you take his hand, fingers wrapped delicately around his wrist so he can pull away at any moment if he wishes to. but he doesn't.

his gaze follows your hand, watches his fingers disappear under the hem of your shirt where he can feel the heat of your bare skin seeping through his glove.

when you let go of his hand, he doesn't move it. instead, he reaches up further, ghosting past the dip of your waist and to your ribs. the curve of his thumb and index rests just below the swell of your breast -- which he can tell is completely bare.

he swallows the lump in his throat, "you want me...to touch you like this?"

"mhm," you hum, your hands sliding up the front of his body to his neck before you pull him down for a kiss.

he topples over you, dropping you both onto the mattress. he catches himself of his free hand, deepening the kiss with a desperation he's never felt.

all this time, you've wanted him more than he could ever fathom. a sweet, pure thing like you, has wanted him -- with his filthy, defiled hands and tormented soul. you've been begging for him and he hadn't even realized it.

he thins back to all the signs he missed. when you would ask him if he wanted to shower with you and he replied no, he didn't want to disturb you. when you threw your leg over his while in bed and pressed your heat against his thigh only for him turn you over so he could hold you closer.

he never even fathomed that you could possibly want someone like him.

but here you were.

tugging at his clothes with a desperation he had never seen from you.

"y-you want me too, right xiao?" you ask softly, cupping his cheeks when you notice the wide-eyed look on his face.

"yes," he breathes, pulling away from you to rid himself of the clothing covering his upper half, "i do."

you almost forget how to breathe when he pulls his gloves off of his hands, tossing them away before his hand hands are on you.

they're warm, almost burning hot and rough with calluses that make goosebumps rise on your skin where he touches.

his hand finds its way under your shirt again. neither of you breathe as he slowly makes his way to your breast, pausing just a moment to meet your gaze before cupping it.

"soft..." he muses aloud, thumbing your nipple until is hardens beneath the pad of his thumb, "can i see you?"

you nod, relaxing against the bed with your arms on either side of your head. the position is vulnerable, one of pure trust that doesn't go unnoticed by him.

he pushes the hem of your shirt up, licking his lips when he finally sees your breasts. his fingers lightly pluck at your nipples, pinching and rolling them in a way that makes your breathing speed up.

he can see it too. the way your chest heaves up and down as if you can't get enough oxygen. your skin is burning hot and your heart pounds in your chest so hard he can feel it when he presses his palm there.

"calm..." he mutters, "calm down, little one."

you whimper at the nickname that does nothing to calm you. instead you only grow more restless.

your panties are sticking to you uncomfortably. you're so turned on that you can feel the way your cunt clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. you squirm beneath xiao, thighs rubbing together to relieve the ache that settles between them.

sensing how badly you need him, xiao strips you of your shirt before he leans down. you watch, frozen with wide eyes as his lips wrap around one of your nipples. his tongue is hot, swirling and lashing against the bud.

one hand slips beneath the band of your pants and under your panties, the tips of his fingers resting just above your folds. he's so close to touch you, to feeling just how wet you've become. but he doesn't move.

you're teased with having his touch so close while his mouth works your nipples, swapping between giving them both attention.

you're trembling and his attention only makes you gush more and more into your panties. you feel like you could cum right then and there without ever having him properly touch you.

it feels like hours that he does this. occasionally leaning up to bring you in for a kiss, tongue dipping into your mouth so you can fully taste him before he pulls away with strings of spit connecting the two of you. then he's back to torturing your nipples. yet his hand remains stagnant in your panties.

no matter how much you rut your hips up, desperately trying to get him to touch you properly, he evades it. he acts like he doesn't realize how needy you are, how wound taut you are.

you can't take it anymore. your clit aches, throbbing and twitching as it begs for just the slightest touch to push you over the edge. you're sure the brush of your panties would make you cum right now but his hand buried in them keeps them just too far to offer anything.

a sob tears from your chest and xiao looks up. as opposed to the look of horror when he saw your tears before, his gaze only darkens at the sight of tears dripping down your cheeks now.

he pops off of your nipple and leans up, pecking your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

"look at me," he breathes, waiting for your eyes to flutter open again. but they don't so he says again, firmer, "look at me."

your eyes open then, glassy and unfocused. he entrances you, the focus returning to your gaze once more as you become acutely aware of the u breaking eye contact he locks you in.

finally, finally his fingers inch down. there's a loud, sticky sound as they spread your folds before pressing against your clit.

you cum immediately, eyes still locked with his. you squeal and cry as his fingers slowly draw circles on your pulsing clit, urging more and more cum to gush from your cunt.

he watches every expression. he sees the way your eyes flutter, wishing to roll to the back of your head but unwilling to break eye contact with him. your pupils blow out and your entire body trembles and shakes through the mind-numbing high he finally gifts you.

when your orgasm finally dissipates he pulls back, finally freeing you from the eye contact. your eyes fall closed and you pant, legs still occasionally twitching through the aftershocks.

you're floating, boneless as he tugs your pants and panties off.

creamy, sticky strings of your cum cling to your panties when he pulls them away. your cunt is covered in a slick film and he can still see the way your clit and cunt throb. your hole winks, drooling more every time.

and his mouth waters.

any rational thought flies out of his head as he cups the back of your knees and pins you open for him.

"xiao!" you cry, testing his hold on your thighs by trying to squeeze them shut. but it's no use.

you can feel the puffs of his breath against your pussy and it makes you clench. his tongue slowly falls from his mouth, strings of spit dripping down between your folds before he finally licks a fat stripe between them.

he holds his tongue out, letting you see the creamy mess you leave on it before he closes his mouth and swallows, his eyes rolling back at your taste.

"so sweet," he rasps, opening his eyes again, "i want more."

he descends once more, loudly slurping your swollen, sensitive clit into the heat of his mouth. your hands fly to his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as he eats your cunt unabashedly.

he holds your folds open with his thumbs so he can tongue your hole, pausing every once in a while to visibly swallow every drop of cum he collects. every time his tongue finds your entrance, he feels you clench around it and nearly cums on the spot in his pants.

his entire face is wet, but he doesn't care. he's panting, moaning as he feasts upon you. there is no place he would rather be in that moment than right there between your legs.

delicate, skilled fingers tug the hood of your clit back before pressing the flat of his tongue against the exposed bud, taking incredible joy in the way you kick and squeal at the overwhelming feeling before he finally backs off.

his own pupils look like the widen and contract, seemingly glowing a deep yellow as he slowly cleans his face, making sure that you watch his every movement, every time he licks his lips and every time his throat bobs when he swallows.

this xiao is nothing like what you know. this xiao is feral, unhinged and completely drunk on you. any self-restraint he once had has snapped and left behind a desperate, starving animal that wants nothing more for your brain to turn to mush and for you to become utterly stupid and high off of the pleasure he gives you.

pleasure only he has given you.

that thought is what finally brings him the tugging his pants off. his cock slaps messily against his abdomen, leaking precum messily everywhere. his hand twitches to wrap around himself but he fears that he won't be able to stop himself from stroking himself to completion the second he does.

so he settles for shuffling back into position between your legs. the length of his cock rests against you, hot and heavy. it twitches and pulses as he rocks his hips, slicking himself up with the cum and spit that covered your poor little cunt.

it's clear you're incredibly sensitive, overstimulated but needy for more that he is more than willing to give you.

using his thumb, he carefully presses himself down, inching his hips forward until his cock pops into your cunt. your legs twitch when it does but you only silently gasp, lidded eyes watching as he feeds you more and more of his length until his hips are flush with yours.

his balls are hot and heavy pressed against you. and you're so, so wet that he can feel the squish of your messy cunt against his pelvis that you shamelessly soak.

he wants to wait, he intends to, so you can adjust. but you have other plans, arching your hips up to grind your clit against him, stirring his cock inside you.

he's speechless, watching you bite your lip and cup you own tits, meanly pinching your nipples as you continue to work yourself against him.

he lets you, simply holding your hips for support as you use his cock to get yourself off. it's a beautiful sight, seeing you lose yourself, seeing all shyness dissipate until only a pleasure-hungry little mess is left.

your moans rise, growing louder and pitchier until you make yourself cum. your back arches and your cunt squeezes around him before you lose your footing and your hips fall back to the mattress.

he chases you, eagerly fucking you through the high you had so beautifully give yourself. you cry his name, an intoxication sound that he commits to his memory so he can replay it over and over again.

he's never heard anything as incredible as making a sweet, virgin human cream on his cock for the very first time.

he leans back on his heels, practically tugging your lower half into his lap, snapping his hips against your drooling cunt. his hand reaches out to mindlessly wrap around your throat, using the leverage to fuck you even harder.

the sound of skin slapping together resonates throughout the room, mixed with the slick sounds of your pussy and your shameless cries of pleasure.

his teeth are gritted, jaw clenched. he can't take his eyes off of you -- not that he wants to. you're covered in sweat and shaking endlessly.

he's not sure if you're cumming again and again or if you never really stopped. but he doesn't mind either way, all he cares about is that he's making you feel good. he's giving you exactly what you want.

and as he reaches his own high -- much faster than adeptus stamina would usually allow, he knows that there's no way you could ever question how much he adores you again.

୭ THOMA

cw: pussydrunk!thoma, ur both in love, he whimpers a lot, he likes ur clit idk, fantasy of clit slapping?, hand job, cum facial i guess, creampie, fingering, dumbification if u squint, praise, reassurance, he talks a lot, uhhh he has a leaky dick

he has such a hard time controlling himself + he fantasizes about touching you for the first time + of being the first one to make your body tremble through waves of pleasure + but after you shied away and rejected him anxiously the first time he doesn't try again + sticking to chaste kisses and hugs + eventually it all begins to wear on both of you + the kisses begin to get longer and more heated before finally reaching it all reaches its breaking point

he couldn't believe he was here. being outside, on the veranda with nothing around for miles as the sun set behind you was something out of his dreams.

your kimono was tugged open at the top, allowing your supple breasts to be freed. the gentle breeze tousled strands of your hair and had your nipples perked up for him to eagerly pluck.

his pinched and twisted the tender little buds until they were swollen and sensitive. your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you fought hard not to bash fully cover yourself.

occasionally, you would glance around to make sure that no one was there. it made him smile.

"we're alone," he assures you, smoothing a hand down your torso, making your kimono slip open even more, "no one else is going to see you like this."

his reassurance made you relax a little more.

"you're so pretty..." he whispers, fingertips tracing random shapes onto your skin just to watch the way you shudder, "i've wanted you for so long..."

"i know..." you respond, a look of guilt coming over your face, "i'm sorry..."

he frowns, shaking his head, "don't be sorry for not being ready. i would wait a millennia for just one chance to kiss you."

you smile and reach out, cupping the nape of his neck. you tug him down as you sit up, letting him for a sweet kiss that quickly turns heated.

his hands eagerly travel along your body, touching every inch of you that he possibly can. he toys with the tie around your waist, slowly untying it -- giving you ample opportunity to tell him to stop or slow down.

but instead you clutch the front of his shirt and deepen the kiss.

his mind fights with itself. he doesn't want to break the kiss and lose the taste if you on his tongue but he wants so desperately to finally see your beautiful body in full.

you're the one to break the kiss, panting heavily as you meet his gaze.

but instead of letting him properly see you, you tug at his shirt. he stares slack jawed at you, almost starry eyed until he finally realizes what it is you're doing.

he clumsily frees himself of his shirt, shuddering when you eagerly touch his exposed skin.

two large hands grapple both your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head.

"please, let me worship you," he pants, shoulders heaving as if he's doing everything he can to contain himself.

when you nod your consent, he lets you go and leans back, not caring about the way the wood makes his knees ache.

it is all worth it when he pulls the fabric of your clothes aside and sees the endless expanse of bared skin that you've honored him with.

he caresses your legs and nearly loses it when you let your thighs fall apart.

"you are...." he is at a loss for words, his mouth handing open as his hands eagerly prod your legs all the way open.

your folds spread, opening like the most delicate, precious of flowers. your slit glistens and he can see the swell of your clit that lay hidden away.

"can i touch?" he asks, wide eyes meeting your bashful gaze, "i want to make you feel good, will you let me?"

"yes," you consent without hesitation and his heart races.

almost immediately, his fingers find their way between your folds. he collects the growing wetness at you entrance, slicking the pad of his middle finger to gently circle your clit.

you sigh at the gentle stimulation. it's a slow pace that stops and starts again every time he dips down to collect more of your wetness.

you, however, grow more and more restless with each passing moment. you grow greedier and more desperate for him -- for thoma.

as you watch the way he touches you, so careful and sweet, knowing how much he wants you, you feel yourself soften.

you feel your adoration and love for him grow. he's beautiful, highlighted by the orange light of the sun. and he's sweet, treating you like a piece of the finest china.

"thoma?" you call.

"yes?" he responds, gaze not falling from where he diligently plays with your cunt.

"i love you," you whisper.

with that, he looks up. a gentle smile grows on his face and he presses a sweet kiss against your knee.

"i love you," is all he says before he goes back to what he was doing.

one finger prods your entrance, slowly sinking halfway in before he pulls it back out to the top. he covers the digit in your juices, turning his hand as he can press as deep as he possibly can.

"so much..." he quietly tacks onto his last statement.

he fucks you with that one finger, prodding your walls and testing their give as you adjust to being penetrated for the first time.

he presses against a spot that makes your cunt squeeze around him and he smiles. he doesn't say anything, instead he continues to press and stroke the spongy spot all while you twitch and whine at the feeling.

he urges more of your arousal to drip from your cunt. it sticks on sticky strings to his knuckles everything he pulls back.

after a long while, he finally slides a second and a third finger into you. there's no pain or u comfortable stretch from his diligent work of you.

"th-thoma," you gasp when he once again begins prodding and playing with that spot, "that feel so good..."

"i know it does," he whispers, licking his lips. you're creaming around his digits, his movements causing a sticky, frothy mess between your thighs. your walls squeeze around him and he can't break his gaze away from your twitching clit.

"i want..." you pause in your declaration to moan, "i want more...i want something..."

you're begging him. you're wound down right, the thread in your core all too much for you. it's a deep, tingling pleasure that makes your walls squeeze involuntarily every time he presses his lithe digits against your sweet spot.

he brings his other hand between you legs, stretching his thumb down before pressing the pad against it.

he strokes the swollen little bud delicately, up and down, side to side, circling -- testing what you like, what makes your precious little cunt clutch around him.

"you're feeling so good, huh?" he whispers, almost as if he's entranced, "gonna...gonna make you cum. i gotta make you cum...please...please give it to me, let me see how you cum."

he's babbling in desperately whispers and you can do nothing but obey him. the cord finally snaps and he moans along with you through your orgasm, working you through it and watching every little movement of your body. every twitch, every arch, every eye roll. he sees it all.

he's entranced, carefully pulling away. your little hole gapes from being stretched by 3 of his fingers but it clenched and drools cum that he knows will help you take his cock.

"did you like that?" he asks, grinning almost cheekily at you.

you shyly smile and nod your head but you don't hide away from him. he's glad you don't feel embarrassed, he wanted so badly for you to just feel good and feel safe with him. and he accomplished that.

you lean up and meet his lips. it's a sweet, delicate kiss that is distracted from the way you tug at his pants.

he eagerly helps you, unbuttoning his pants before you reach past the band of his black underwear. your fist wraps gently around him and he helps you pull his length free.

it's long and throbbing in your grasp. he can't help but moan at the sight of your pretty fingers wrapped around him -- a sight he's waited so long to see. he has fantasized about it before, stroked his own cock, imagining it was your fingers that were covered in his cum.

"how do you like it?" you ask, slowly dragging your hand up to the head where it's sticky and drooling.

he whimpers when you touch the tip, eyeing the slick strings that stick to your hand.

he's always had a messy, leaky cock. it always drooled long, thick strings of precum everywhere, covering his hands and slicking his length up until it frothed all creamy around the base.

part of him had been embarrassed. but with the way you looked at his cock with wide eyes full of wonder, he knew he wouldn't feel that way every again.

"it's pretty, thoma..." you confess and his eyes roll back in his head.

"yeah?" he whispers, before circling your hand with his, urging you to squeeze him a little harder, "like this...i-i like it like this..."

you slowly drag your hand up, keeping the same pressure all the way to the head. your entire body meanly twitches at that and he lets out the sweetest little cry, looking down at you with almost teary eyes.

"c-careful...'s sensitive..." he warns.

"sorry..." you guiltily mumble.

"'s okay, you're learnin'," he pets the top of your head sweetly to reassure you.

before he can't catch onto what you're doing, you lean in and sweetly press your lips against him. he feels the kiss against the flare of the head on his cock.

he can't stop himself from cumming. he curses, watching with wide eyes as his own cock messily shoots cum onto your cheek. you flinch back in surprise and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"i'm sorry! sorry, i didn't mean--"

when he opens his eyes again, you're watching with wide, parted lips as thick globs of white cum drool out of his clenching slit and paint your hand.

"did that...feel good?" you ask, not taking your eyes away from his length.

"yeah..." you confesses, "felt-felt real good."

you let go of his cock and it twitches, still hard. he urges you to lay back down, thumbing away the cum he'd accidentally covered your face in.

without thinking, he presses the digit against your lips and you eagerly open, taking it into your mouth. your tongue licks up the mess before he has to pull away.

"i need to fuck you," he whined, face buried in your neck, "can i?"

"y-yeah," you pant, "wan' it too, thoma. g-gonna be my first."

"yeah i am, honey," he coos, hand shaking as he leads himself to your slit, "gonna...gonna be your first cock. 'm gonna...ah..."

he can't help but moan when he feels the way you wrap around him. your cunt is hot and so, so wet -- wetter than before. your pretty little pussy must have been drooling all over while you played with his cock.

"good girl," he coos, "my good girl."

"a-all yours, thoma-ah!" you squeal when he pushes all the way in, one quick thrust that makes you squeal.

"took it all," he whispers, "took all of my cock...see?"

you follow his gaze and he feels you clench around him when you see the way he has you split open. he pulls out, making sure you watch the way his cock comes out covered in your cum. there's some of his cum that was still covering his cock from his orgasm moments ago.

it causes a sticky, white mess to form on the base of his cock when he surges back in, making you take all of his cock once again.

you fall limp against the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees to pull your legs further apart.

"more," you pant, "g-gimme more thoma."

he's enamored by you. your pretty little cunt opens up even more before his eyes from the way you hold yourself open. he can see you wide he has you split open and the way your hard little clit twitches and throbs -- neglected and needing to be touched.

he's more than willing to oblige. puckering his lips, he noisily spits right on the little bud before his thumb circles it, rubbing it in as he starts fucking too.

the noises you make have him drunk. you cry, moan, and squeal with every move he makes.

your perfect cunt squeezes and creams around him while he meanly taps his fingers against your clit.

he wants so badly to slap the little bud. wants to watch your body seize up from the pain before it bleeds back into pleasure. he wants to have it in his mouth, wants you to sit on his face and rub the tender little thing along his tongue until you make yourself cum.

there's a million thoughts running through his head. everything he wants to do -- everything he can't wait to do.

"thoma!" you sob, "i-i'm--"

"i know," he pants, "you're gonna cum."

"mhm! mhm!" you nod your head desperately, eyes wide and mouth open in wonder. your entire body stills for a moment before you arch beautifully.

"'m cummin', 'm cummin', 'm cummin'!" you chant, sobbing and moaning as he grins.

"yeah you are..." you're cumming real hard for him, body spasming and twitching endlessly as you babble any and every bit of praise your dumb little brain can conjure up.

you tell him how good it feels cumming on a cock for the first time, how full you are, how you can't stop cumming, and how you want more.

and he wishes he could give you more but his own high reaches its limits. his pace stutters and he whines, high pitched and desperate as he cums -- filling you up as your own high comes to an end, leaving you limp and twitching from the aftershocks.

the uncontrollable spasms of your cunt work him through his orgasm as he comes to a stop, tugging his cock free to watch as his cum drools free.

but he scoops it back up and presses it back inside., meeting your gaze.

and now he can't wait for all the things he's going to teach you.

୭ KAZUHA

cw: tease!kazuha, crybaby!reader, corruption kink, creampie, pet names (darling, honey, and sweet one)

kazuha finds your innocence so enticing + you're so easy to tease and rile up + he's always kissing and touching you + slipping his hand under your shirt to hold you close against his body while his lips work against yours until he pulls away to get a look at the glazed, dreamy look in your eyes + part of him desperately wants to be the one to ruin you but he also doesn't want to defile such a sweet, pure thing like you + but when you finally can't take it anymore, tearfully begging him to touch your dripping little cunt + he knows he can't hold back anymore

he had come home to you cooking dinner, unable to help himself from pressing himself up against you. his lips found your neck, sweetly pressing kisses there while his hand gripped your hips, keeping you pressed flush against him.

he could tell how flustered you became from having him so close. carefully, he turned you around and pulled you in for a kiss.

your hands gripped the front of his kimono, whimpering mindlessly against his lips as his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

your breasts were pressed against his chest and you began to tremble, desperately deepening the kiss in a wordless plea for more.

but he pulled away, a lidded smile on his lips at the glazed look in your eyes. he reached up and swiped his thumb against your bottom lip to brush away the drool there. he tucked his thumb into your mouth, his heart racing when you instinctively latched onto the digit.

but he once again pulled away, gesturing back to the food you were cooking as if he hadn't just turned your brain to mush.

"just let me know when it's ready, darling," he coos into your ear before disappearing from the kitchen.

he hadn't expected all his teasing to reach a head that night. after a dinner filled with teasing innuendos and fleeting touches, he could tell you were wound taut and desperate for anything he was willing to give you.

you had wandered into the bedroom after cleaning up. your pretty eyes were glassy with tears as you climbed onto the futon with him, gripping the front of his kimono. he regarded you were a raised eyebrow, carefully reaching out to grip one side of your waist, caressing his thumb across the fabric covering your body.

"kazu..." you whine, hand wrapping around his free wrist.

"what is it, honey?" he coos, cock already hardening when you bashfully brought his hand beneath the hem of your kimono to your panties, "oh?"

a smile grows on his face at the pure embarrassment on your face at your own bold actions. he slowly sat up, his fingers prodding at the soaked fabric before pressing a kiss to your lips.

"you're awfully wet, sweet one," he whispers, "what is it you want hm? want me to touch you?"

you nod, "pl-please, kazu, it...it hurts," you sniffle.

he barely contains the groan that builds in his chest. the sight of you crying and trembling because he turned you on so much and so easily with just kisses and fleeting touches was more than he could handle.

all too soon, you found yourself bared before him, sprawled out on the futon with him on his knees above you. you shyly hid yourself from him, arms over your breasts and thighs clamped shut.

"oh honey," he coos, "that won't do...how am i supposed to make you feel better if you don't let me in?"

"b-but..." you glance at him, "what if you don't...like it?"

he wants to scream. oh sweet thing, how naive you were. how could you not tell how utterly enamored he was with you. you were the picture of ethereal beauty to him. just having you beneath him, knowing he was the first to ever get the honor of seeing you so vulnerable was enough to send his heart racing.

he felt like he was burning from the inside out. his hands trembled and he couldn't resist prying your hands away from your chest.

"i've waited so long to have you here," he confessed, "you're all i think about and all i want. wont you let me finally have you?"

at his sweet declaration, you relax into the futon. he doesn't waste a second in cupping your breasts in his hands just to hear the way your breath hitches.

he thumbs your nipples, taking extra care t i watch your face. when he pinches them ever so slightly and your hips minutely buck up into nothing he could have died right on the spot.

"so sensitive," he breathes, "i want you to feel good, i want to be the first one to ever make you feel this good, sweet one."

"o-only want it to be you," you confess and this time he can't contain the moan that erupts from his chest.

"yeah, only me, sweetheart," he breathes as one hand finds it way between your legs.

his cock throbs painfully when he slips his digits through your folds. it's so wet, sticky sounds coming from where he touches as he finds your clit easily. the little bud is swollen and he swears he can feel it twitching beneath his touch as you keen and cry for him.

he makes you feel so good so easily. it's too much too fast and he knows it is from the way you cling to him and tear up. your body meanly twitches as he makes you cum, your poor little cunt spasming around nothing before his fingers dip down to feel the way your hole squeezes to push out more of the creamy cum he wants so badly to taste upon his tongue.

but he knows he can't stand the idea of not being inside you as soon as possible.

he leans up to bring you in for a kiss, pressing his middle and ring finger into your pussy to the last knuckle. you squeal against his lips, thighs itching to snap closed if he weren't holding you down.

"oh, i know, sweet one," he coos, "feels so good doesn't it? having something to squeeze on like this..."

you sink back into the futon, eyes rolling back as he scissors his fingers inside you, prepping your tight walls for his much bigger cock.

your hips jump when he prods that gummy spot inside you, "k-kazu! f-feels..."

"i know, i know," he grits through clenched teeth, "found your spot, huh? yeah, i did."

you're so easy, so responsive to his every touch that he already can tell another orgasm is building. but he knows he cant stomach the idea of not feeling you cum on his cock so he pulls his fingers free and desperately sheds himself of his own clothing.

he doesn't even give you a chance to take in the size of his cock. you can explore his body later, he muses. right now, he doesn't want you to spook yourself.

"are you ready, sweet one?" he coos, hoping you can't tell how his voice is trembling for anticipation.

"yes! yes, please, please make me feel good, kazu, o-only want you, please!" you babble, tearfully meeting his gaze.

he cuts off any further pleas by inching his cock into you. your mouth falls open in a silent moan when he head stretches you open. he pushes more and more of his length into you, pausing and withdrawing whenever you tense up or wince in pain before gently stuffing himself back inside.

by the time his hips are flush with yours, you're a mess. drool coats your lips and your eyelids flutter dreamily at the feeling of him fully sheathed inside you for the first time.

kazuha truly cannot fathom how he lived so long holding himself back. your cunt is heaven wrapped around him; you squeeze and cover him in so much of your juices that it drips down his heavy balls.

your arms wrap around his ribs, desperate to feel him close to you and he's quick to oblige. with his chest pressed against yours, he holds you securely against him, hand cupping the back of your head as he begins a gentle, deep pace so you can adjust to the overwhelming feeling of being fucked for the first time.

you claw his back and wail every time he sinks into you. the orgasm that he had denied you once again builds with every thrust against your sweet spot that he provides. the close position allows him to grind against your clit with every roll of his hips.

it's a slow, almost agonizing build to your high.

"let me feel it," he whispers, "please, cum for me."

you sob, knees knocking against his ribs as you're forced over the edge. he holds you close as you twitch and tremble in his arms, shamelessly letting your sweet little voice out as you cry out your pleasure.

his cock throbs and his balls grow taut. his is the first cock you've ever creamed. his is the first cock to every be stuffed inside your heavenly little cunt. he's the first one to ever make you feel like this.

those thoughts are all that are in his head as he reaches his own high. he moans into your neck, hips thrusting erratically through the strongest orgasm he's ever felt.

you whine at the feeling of hot cum filling you up for the first time. the sensation is strange, not like anything you've ever felt.

when his softened cock is freed, you feel your face flush when his cum gushes out following it. your bashfulness is exacerbated when he looks between your legs to watch your mixed cum drool slowly from your gaping hole.

he grins. now he's also the first to fill you with a nice load of cum.

@xiax // do not modify or repost!

⸸ Eyes on Me — The Silent Orchestra ⸸

(An AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I made as many Abnormalities into aesthetically pleasing humanoids as possible, so OOC and fanon are to be expected. Inspired by my personal experience playing with these fuckers ladies and gentleman for the first time.)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mentions of other Abnormalities like the Crumbling Armor, WhiteNight, [Censored], and Nothing There as humanoids. MC knows nothing about classical music.

Pairing: [Insert!MC] x T-01-31

Word Count: 2200 <

Description: The Silent Orchestra was born to be praised. To be loved. To hear the applause of anyone that stumbles upon them. But to guarantee the survival of the facility's entire personnel, it is detrimental that agents must deprive them of that privilege. No matter how deserving, no matter how tempted they are to scream and applause with madness...

...The Conductor must never see their soul.

Warning: general yandere themes (obsession), gore

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment the Manager chose to contain T-01-31, the entire facility was bound to fall into break and ruin.

Agent [Name] was in the middle of doing Instinct work on O-05-61 when the warrior suddenly spoke to them.

"Go. Your strength is needed elsewhere." With a wave of his hand, a blue flame began flickering around [Name], sparking a new kind of vigor within them. And just like that, the door behind them slid open.

But before they ran out of the containment unit, they made sure to bow in gratitude.

Sure, it was just something the Abnormality did for those he found worthy, but it was still a nice gesture.

Some personnel had reported feeling wary or anxious around O-05-61. Some said that they felt something akin to a thin line being tightly wrapped around their neck around him. But for [Name], they only ever felt warm, safe, around the warrior, and with the blue flames engulfing them, that sensation didn't disappear, even as they traversed further and further away from O-05-61's containment unit.

Not long after, the Manager immediately ordered them to go to the Central Communications Department. Suppression Work.

[Name] could only assume the worst had happened. That an ALEPH-class Abnormality had breached.

...But who?

It couldn't have been Nothing There nor [CENSORED]. There were dead bodies, yes. A lot of them in fact, but it was too...clean. It was a word they never thought they would use to describe a massacre, but it was true. It lacked the barbarity and unrestrained violence that [Censored]'s unique killing style had. That Abnormality left entrails and mangled remains in its wake, leaving no surface untouched by blood.

But it couldn't have been Nothing There's either. The Assimilator left wounds too large to be from a human weapon. Besides, it favoured short-distance weapons; the scythe and mace in particular. These corpses had bullet wounds.

[Name] couldn't help but feel their heart sink. This was obviously a massacre committed by humans.

All the while, [Name] could hear it, the absolute chaos that was currently the CC Department. It was a tumult of horrified screams and the mad ramblings of agents on a murderous rampage. But even through it all, they could sense it.

The music of the end.

It thrummed through their bones, sending vibrations down their spine. It was as if the very sound was trying to encroach their mind.

By the time [Name] reached the Central Communications Department, they were greeted by absolute chaos. Beneath the sharp howls of violins and flutes, and the angry growls of brass instruments, they found their fellow agents.

The panicking ones were out on a murderous rampage, their eyes crazed with bloodlust as they hacked and slashed at anything that moved, but some were just sitting on the ground, staring catatonically at nothing. Then, there were those who were still sane, struggling to stay intact.

And at the midst of it all was the perpetrator.

He looked tall and proud as he stood there on a platform with his players. His hands gracefully motioned about, waving some sort of stick. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be made from the ivory of bones.

At first, [Name] thought it was WhiteNight, but no. If it was, she should have heard the bells before she even left 0-05-61's containment unit. This was...was this the new Abnormality?

The brass were getting louder, overpowering the soft chords of the strings, until eventually, all slowed to quietness.

But the performance wasn't over yet.

[Name] took this opportunity to land their killing blow. The man—Abnormality had their back turned to them. He was completely engrossed in whatever he was doing. Directing the Orchestra? But there was nothing else in front of him other than four women in white, all of whom only played violin and...whatever the bigger violins are called. Didn't they only need the stick-man for a large group of players?

Like WhiteNight, it was a mystery where music was coming from. Quite possibly, this Abnormality had a unique ability that negated the need for physical instruments. That was probably what its little stick was for.

Carefully, they aimed their gun for his head. Sure, a rifle from Der Freischütz won't kill them like it would a human, but it is a humanoid. Surely, a shot to the head would stop him even for just a second?

"S-stop."

A weak, raspy voice halted them. [Name] looked down at the ground beside him and realized the Agent was still alive. Immediately they knelt down. Not to help her, but so they could hear her better.

"How did everyone die?" Information was more important than anything else right now. Their survival relied on being able to avoid whatever killed their colleagues.

"The...music." She began hacking up blood. It took a while before she was able to breathe fine again. "It drove everyone mad."

"Then how come you're still alright?"

"I'm a senior. The lower-ranks weren't able to withstand it. What level are you?"

"Three...I think I have enough Prudence. And fortitude."

"Save it. You think you'll be able to take down that thing on your own? My entire team was decimated by that monster." Her rage seeped through their teeth like the blood on her chin. But beneath it all, they could see grief. Pain.

"Wait for back up, at least. Or hope that this day will be over soon, and you can leave this hell hole to be cleaned up by someone else."

That was...true. The departments from the upper levels were probably still harvesting energy. If that was true, then they should be reaching the daily quota soon.

But that was hopeful thinking. They might finish the day, but would they be able to make it until then?

"God damn, this is what I hate about this job," she angrily spat out, blood mixed with saliva dripping down her chin. "You'll never know what you're dealing with until its out killing all of your colleagues."

"What do you think its defenses are?"

She blinked, trying to recall, but with her blood loss, that seemed like a tremendous task. "I...I don't know. At first, no one could hurt it, but Emily with the Black weapon was able to hurt it for a while. But then, it just stopped working. After that, that awful noise began to ring in my ears, and everyone suddenly went crazy." Tears began to pool in her eyes. "I think...it became immune to damage altogether."

[Name]'s eyes couldn't help but widen.

Immune to damage..? That's..! That shouldn't be possible! If nothing could hurt them, then—

They turned to look back at the pale man. Beside them, they heard the dying Agent chuckle roughly. "What the hell is the Manager going to do about this?"

What the hell, indeed. If it can't be hurt, then was suppressing this thing even possible?

The music became more and more dynamic, probably nearing its finale, until finally, the clanging of metal and abrupt bellows of trumpets warned the descent of the grand finale.

A...flute? Oboe? Whatever it was, it began playing a soft sound similar to a rooster's crow in the morning. And as it did so, the women in white shook their fingers in a way that made the strings tremble.

When it finally did, [Name] thought they could relax...but they knew there were consequences for this.

They failed.

That was when every single person in the room began to laugh, scream, and cry in joy. Except for their senior. The agent beside them only clutched their head, nails digging harshly through their temples.

"What's wrong? Ma'am?"

She began to scratch, the soft skin easily peeling off from the unrestrained force.

"Make it stop make it stop make it STOP!"

[Name] could only watch helplessly as their senior kept banging her head against the floor. They tried to restrain her, but they only wound up with deep scratch marks on their arms. Their weapon might kill her, but knocking them out with the butt of their rifle would be worth it. But just as they were about to do it, all the lights in the department died out.

That was when when they heard the explosions.

All around them, [Name] heard their final cries of anguish before it all ended spectacularly with a bang. It was as if someone had shot them to end their suffering, but...

They touched the blood that splattered onto their face. It was still warm. Rubbing it between their fingers, they felt little chunks of meat and shards of bone.

What kind of gun could...did Der Freischütz shoot his magical bullet?

But that didn't make sense. His bullets never miss. Once he shoots, it hits everything in its way. They should be dead right now.

Their questions were answered soon enough when the emergency lights began to flicker an ominous red throughout the entire facility.

For a split second, they saw it. The corpses lying on the ground. The twisted bouquet of brain mush, eyes, and skull shrapnel where their heads should be.

They could only stand there, shocked. It was only a fracture of a second, but they were already closing their eyes, unwilling to see more.

'Maestro...it seems like one of them made it 'till the finale.'

They heard an airy voice speak, likely from one of the women in white.

Eyes still shut, [Name] could only listen to the clacking of shoes against the CC Department's polished floors. It grew closer, and closer until stopping in front of them. Just a little, they opened their eyes to see.

All they saw was the white of his shirt, the delicate black ornamentations on his tailcoat, and the fine weaving of his cravat. Even amidst all the gore and blood, he somehow remained untouched, unsullied.

The false purity reminded them of WhiteNight, and it made them sick.

[Name] refused to look up. They would have closed their eyes again if it weren't for how angry they felt. From their peripherals, they could still see the aftermath, and now, they couldn't stop looking at it.

The fact that something could kill, cause absolute chaos, and still remain clean, spotless, or act as if they have done no wrong...it made their blood boil.

"Maestro, perhaps she is deaf."

"Or crass. Trashy Another rubble in the heap."

"They must be for not appreciating the marvel they just witnessed!"

A sharp giggle pierced their ears. "Ladies, please. Let's be considerate. We must understand that not everyone has the same refined tastes as us."

At that, all the women began to giggle as if one of them had just said something clever.

[Name] had to grit their teeth at all the insults the airy-voiced women threw at them. She would soon rather go deaf than praise any of these plastic-faced pricks.

What were they even talking about? What did their hearing or taste in music have to do with this?

The Agent was glaring at them when she suddenly felt a cold hand pull their chin away from their direction, forcing them to look at the pristine face of the man. Half of his face looked human.

Well, as human as Abnormalities could look. His skin was as white as the fine fabric of his clothes. It was almost difficult to see the thin line between his true face and the porcelain mask that covered half of it.

His mask's eye was pure black, forever crinkled by the perpetual smile on its black-painted lips. But his true face, the one uncovered, was unsmiling. Dispassionate. Determined.

But for what?

The women immediately hushed upon noticing his solemnity. [Name] could feel their black beady eyes watching them, as if anticipating what their master would do next.

"Maestro, please. Let's not waste our time!"

"I agree! They aren't worth your salt!

"Ladies," the one with the terrible laugh cut in, but this time, there was no disdain in her words. Only stern assertion. "Remember your station. If the Maestro says so, then we follow."

What in the world are they even talking about? He hasn't said a word at all this entire time? Was all the Agent could think.

"Consider yourself lucky, human," a different woman, the one with the...dot with a wavy line drawn on her left cheek said.

Now that [Name] was looking at them, they noticed that all the women had symbols drawn on their cheek, and just like their 'maestro', they all wore porcelain masks. But unlike him, theirs covered their faces entirely.

"Our Maestro is planning another performance. Just. For. You~"

"After all..." One of the women leaned back on their chair. With her chin still pointing up, it was clear she was looking down on them. "...the show doesn't end unless we hear the applause. As such, the Maestro wishes to see you on our next performance."

"We will be looking for you."

And, just like that, all the lights in the facility turned back on. [Name] winced, blinded by the brightness. By the time their eyes adjusted, the ensemble had gone, vanished.

That day, they were busier than usual. Much to everyone's despair, they couldn't end since T-01-31's breach had completely depleted their enkephalin sources. Even the ones that the facility needed to run. Many other Abnormalities breached because of the power outage.

Not long after, the ensemble's entries were updated.

ALEPH-Class, T-01-31.

The Silent Orchestra.

.

.

.

~~~~~~~ End ~~~~~~~

"Every song has a heart, and a heart, its own melody. By now, you should know his." - T-01-31's Redrafted Entry

This definitely won't be my last snippet on him. No, this is just the first movement~

Helping Albedo out with his research by day and at night he researches you under the covers. 😏 he uses that time to try different positions and different ways to drive you wild. He doesn’t understand why the pain of your nails scratching down his back is so pleasurable, he wants more. Albedo and his favorite assistant make many frequent trips up the mountain for this ‘research’

ya’ll horn knee for the alkemist

...

Well here’s more food

We know that albedo is mostly outside gathering some herbs or something for his alchemy or probably near somewhere to continue with his research.

So as his assistant, it’s a responsibility you always follow wherever he goes and assist him with anything. And what did you assist him with?

Of course, it’s sex. After he did that intimate act with you, he wants to “expand” his knowledge and further gather more reactions from you.

Oh how red your face was when he calmly calls your name and tells you to lift up your skirt. It was just a simple touching here and there. A finger tracing your panties, his hand slowly trailing to your shirt as he pushes you against the tree until your back is resting on it.

He hums and looks down to see your blouse unbuttoned that your bra was practically exposed to him. The pen between his fingers was nudged to the center of your chest and he used it as leverage to lift up your undergarments without laying a finger on you.

You shuddered at the cold air brushing your skin. Your nipples are turning hard both from the wind and at his focused stare. You bit your lower lip and looked elsewhere other than him, your fingers digging on the rough trunk of the tree to make yourself smaller from his lean body.

“What are you feeling right now, [Name]?” He calmly asked, bringing the pen to your nipples and toys with them. How in the world does he still remain calm from this?! Does he not get worried or anxious if someone happens to see you both here half-naked in the middle of the forest?!

“Cold, sir...” And yet you still answered him and helped him with this so-called research.

“Not hot and bothered at all?” He inquired once again and this time bringing the pen lower, trailing to your abdomen until to your clothed core, brushing the tip onto it that had your nerves shivering in delight.

“A... a bit...” you stammered and lifted your hand up to your lips to quiet your noises. Albedo’s face scrunched up when he saw you covering your face. He brought his gloved hands on top of yours and brought it down to your side.

“I never said to put your hand there, did I?” His voice was sharp and a bit darker than the calming and velvety voice you’ve grown to love. You shook your head and apologized to him sheepishly.

The alchemist sighed and put the pen back in his pocket before resting his hand on your bare shoulder.

“Turn around.” He ordered.

There’s no way you can’t go against him. He’s your supervisor and it’s unlikely of you, his trusted assistant, to disobey him. It only brought you excitement and made you even wetter than before at his demanding tone.

You’ve never seen him like this at all even in your previous sex with him. You mustered all the courage you have left in you to nod at him, desperately holding yourself back from grinding against him as he presses himself onto you.

—

“I think Mister Albedo should be here...” The female alchemist muttered to herself whilst looking at the piece of paper left by the Kreideprinz in the Favonius Headquarters.

The crunching of dry leaves filled her ears as she turned her head left and right to look for any signs of the familiar ash-blonde head. 

“Mhng~!” 

Her ears perked up at the muffled sound from the nearby tree. 

Did someone get hurt? Or maybe it’s you and Albedo doing the research. Sucrose hasn’t seen anyone wandering around here so it’s a possibility it could be either you or Albedo.

She seeks the source of the sound, gradually increasing in volume the more steps she takes and her whole face and body went aflame at the scandalous acts of the Chief Alchemist and his assistant. She quickly hid behind the tree and concealed her mouth with both hands.

“A-Albedo...! Hah... mng~!! Faster p-please!” You begged, tightly gripping on his arm as he held your body close to him while your other hand was resting on the bumpy trunk whilst he pounds in and out of you frantically.

“Faster, huh...?” 

You bit your lip harshly, almost grazing the skin to emit blood when he thrust his hips against yours hitting your sweet spot that weakened your knees. You can’t think clearly. The overwhelming pleasure is filling you up and you’re beginning to see stars the more he hits that one certain spot. You want him to go deeper, you want to listen to his moans of your name, you want his fingers to leave marks on your hips.

You’re tightly hugging his cock, you’re taking his size so well, and you wanted more of him. 

Faster,

Deeper,

More,

More

More...!

You moaned his name as you cum on his cock, and Albedo finds himself being pushed on the edge as well when you clamped your thighs together. With just a few more thrusts he can reach his climax as well. 

His eyes quickly darted to the side when he saw small movements and rustling from the bushes. His motions faltered a bit, slowing down his pace and loosening his grip on your hips. You whined at the lack of pleasure that filled you that slowly died down and ran out of your system. 

Looking over your shoulder to take a peek at him, his eyes were focused on the opposite side of the forest. Before you could even open your mouth to voice your concern, your eyes went dark all of a sudden. Warm and hot breathing was caressing against him and your throat bounced in turbulence as if Albedo had another plan on fucking you twice in a row.

“Focus on me,” His silky voice echoed in your ears as he proceeded on smacking his body with yours once again.

He’s very much aware his other assistance noticed them. But did that stop him from fucking you and making you cum again? 

No.

Poor Sucrose immediately dashed out from the forest in fear if the Chief Alchemist caught her red-handed from peeping and disturbing his study.

Theres no doubt in my mind Capitano is well-known man throughout Teyvat, and should his name not be as recognizable as his comrades, he should be known enough to have built up a sizeable list of enemies. So this rises the question, how would he feel if his darling was stolen away from him?

I can imagine it now, It was a plan so meticulously crafted down to the very last dot. His enemies have no limits in taking this behemoth down, perhaps they'd studied the dove long enough to know they like to sit in their shared garden, seemingly less supervised. Or maybe they watched long enough to know that they're weakened by the sounds of wounded animals and just has to answer the calls of an injured bird or fox. No matter the situation, by some miracle, they've been stolen away.

And it makes me wonder, which of darling's captors will live longest to see their brethren ripped to absolute shreds?

WARNING: Under the cut is a graphic depiction of violence, murder, and body horror (not against the reader)

He is used to what true fear looks like.

He grabbed one man's head and squeezed. It deformed easily as if it were nothing but a boiled apple. Of all the terrible screams that ever fell on mortal ears, none could surpass that man's animalistic cry. As soon as he releases his grip, the corpse falls to the ground, its warm blood gushing from his eyes and ears.

The rest of them tried to run away and were seen squeezing and crushing each other in their eagerness to flee, running frantically with faces horribly contorted by the fear that devoured them. Not one would manage to escape him. Capitano loomed over them, his great sword a giant in the dark that drew red patterns against the far moon as he swung.

"Y-you... you tried to warn us."

The man appointed to be your guard had curled up against the door when he heard the screams and the horrid sounds of blood and guts spilling everywhere. But the dreadful silence that followed is what droves him half-mad by terror.

He crawls towards you, unable to stand due to the tremors on his legs.

"Please... please stop him, t-tell him... tell him I never harmed you."

You look at him with pity, tears running down your face, and barely manage to whisper: "He won't listen to me."

Slow, heavy steps are heard outside.

The man nods shakenly, the impossibility of his request heaving down on his shoulders, and, coming to terms with his fate, takes your hands to his temple.

"... Will you pray for me?"

The first time Xiao breeds you is completely by accident. He mistook the amount of time he had before his climax. While his words were simple, completely in character,

"I should've pulled out."

His face betrayed him. Eyes enamored, glued to the space in which his cum was now leaking out. Trickling down your inner thigh where it pooled onto plain grey sheets. Dripping between the gap of your thighs as you patiently pushed more out. Glossy amber eyes hooked to the arch of your back as you spread wider, twisting your hips to and fro.

"I don't mind Xiao Xiao." You'd responded, You simply flipped over not breaking eye contact with him before lacing two fingers through the mess spreading to your ass.

You didn't miss the quickest flick of his lashes, the way his pupils dilated and the tiny shiver that jolted up from his back to his shoulders. His breathing faltering when he realized exactly what you were doing. Those two fingers between your spread legs now slippery with cum sliding beneath your folds. Your efforts soon becoming clearly in vain as the mess became larger, more thick drops pouring from your pussy to create a large stain beneath you.

You let out a little giggle, your own shiver coursing through you. "Ooo you made such a mess inside." A whimper falls from your lips.

And as much as you'd like to keep stirring the pot, "That's unhygienic." His face falls, the stern Xiao making a reappearance. Though you can see the smallest glints of his façade where it breaks in his eyes and the twitch of his brow.

"You're the one who did this, take some responsibility."

He merely rolls his eyes.

The next time Xiao breeds you it's on purpose.

His forehead soaked in sweat, eyes glossed over beneath half open lids. His fingers twisted in the sheets as the sound of his breaths comes quicker, the dig of his nails in your flesh getting deeper and you hiss in delight. You can tell by the faint whimpers and deeper grunts that he's close. His movements more and more disorganized by the second.

You almost ask, almost warn him of his reactions from last time but he's such a good little yakasha, your favorite to serve. Within the next couple minutes he's spilling inside, teeth clenched, the vein in his forehead nearly bursting as he tugs you in tighter by slipping a hand up to your shoulder. His other hand full of the fat of your hips.

"Shhh.. let it all out." You coo "You're such a good boy, you deserve it."

His hips fall into a standstill. Lids slowly sliding close as you sift your fingers through his sweaty bangs with a long sigh. When his lashes flutter open they reveal the darkest look you've ever seen your boyfriend have. He slides his palm down across the mattress bringing his upper body up to pull you into his chest. When his hips slap against your ass it pulls a gasp out of you so loud you clasp your hand over your mouth.

"Oh archons, Xiao.." You moan unabashedly

He groans into your ear wrapping both arms around your waist to use as leverage with a quickening pace of his hips. A deep shudder falling over you as he pounds your spot with little remorse. His previous orgasm slicking you up so well that the noises are damn near impossible to hide, though Xiao's sounds almost top them. The quickest little gasps and the unrelenting shake of his thighs incredibly hard to miss.

Before long you've reached his third time giving you a creampie. And by that point you realize you've created a monster.

Just Don’t Look [Yandere Diluc x Reader]

Title: Just Don’t Look [Yandere Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: Diluc is a perfect gentleman. He must be. Because if he isn’t, you don’t think you can handle it.

For Horrorfest request: Diluc and “I’m scared to close my eyes; I’m scared to open them.”

Word Count: 870

notes: Yandere, kidnapped reader, bondage, noncon touching

Dawn Winery is a beautiful estate.

And you can’t complain about the company, either.

Diluc Ragnvindr is the perfect gentlemen. He pulls out your chair before every meal he attends–almost every dinner, and sometimes he stays long enough in the mornings for breakfast. He inquires about your day with the utmost of sincerity, even though it is almost always the same (you read, you embroidered, you took a bath).

He ensures that his staff treats you with respect and gentleness, never raising their voices or throwing furrowed brows your way. They  help you get dressed in clothes that are softer and finer than anything you’ve ever owned. They prepare your baths, filled with sweet smelling soaps and oils. They fetch you things to do, if Diluc has permitted it.

You’re treated so well here. Like royalty, some might say. Kindly. Finely. Like some precious jewel that must be handled with the highest of grace and care.

But… and there’s always a but, when you are treated so well.

But.

Keep reading

Title: Transfer of Ownership.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (+Yandere!La Signora).

Word Count: 1.2k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Threats of Physical Harm, and Manipulation.

Childe found you outside, huddled beside a low-burning torch, staring blankly at the ground.

Which, to be fair, was probably the best place you could be. The others had devolved into petty arguing hours ago, and for as many briefings as you’d suffered through on the edge of Signora’s lap, he doubted you’d be able to show the same apathetic tolerance inside of a dark, freezing cathedral, well in view of a coffin only freshly shut. And, of course, it wasn't like there was anything to keep you there, anymore - no hand to catch your hip in a lace-edged grip, no lips to purse and simper as a sweetened voice ordered you, in no uncertain terms, to sit still and keep your mouth shut. Really, part of him was surprised you’d shown your face at all, that you hadn’t taken what you could and fled while the Harbingers were still waiting to see who would make a move first. It was what he would do, if he was in your place. It was certainly what Signora would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.

But, you were always a timid one, weren’t you? The leash might be gone, but you were still too scared to take off your collar, still more comfortable living under its weight than doing away with it completely.

He'd be lying if he said he minded. Signora trained you well, after all, drilled compliance into you like she was teaching you to breathe.

If only she'd lasted long enough to reap the benefits of such an obedient little pet.

He moved slowly, let you hear his muffled footsteps and snap towards him, your shoulders squaring and your body going tense before you realized he wasn’t Pierro or Arlecchino, that he wasn’t there to drag you back inside just to mumble a few final words to a room of bickering politicians and deafened soldiers. You didn’t relax, but you didn’t scurry away, either, and he was able to take his place across from you, on the other side of your make-shift hearth, the distance between you no great length, but still existent. Signora liked to keep you pressed into her side, if not as far underneath her as she could manage. Childe wasn’t so merciless. Or, he wasn’t going to be so merciless tonight, at least.

“I’m glad to see you,” He started, holding his gloved hands up to the open flame. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely felt cold, but it couldn’t hurt to pretend. “Holding up alright?”

You looked away, your gaze dropping back to the ground. You weren’t, obviously. He could see the redness in your eyes, the fresh bitemarks littered across your bottom lips, the stiffness in the way you kept your arms crossed over your chest, but it'd be better to let you admit to your own distress than try to pry it out of you, as he was sure the others already had. “The Tsaritsa has been kind to me,” You mumbled, by way of response. “Her Majesty and her Harbingers have been very generous in the wake of Rosalyne’s departure. I can't say I'm unprovided for.”

He could only wonder which of the other Harbingers had fed you that line. “That wasn’t the question. How you doing, (Y/n).”

“Badly.” Immediate, hasty, spoken with a sort of begrudging panic that brought a smile to his face before he could drag it down. Luckily, you were already preoccupied. “I mean, I'm fine. Or... I'm sad? I’m not— I don’t think that I’m—” You paused, taking a deep breath. “You knew how she treated me. You all saw how she was. How am I supposed to feel?”

You shifted and something caught the moonlight – a silver band stunted with a single, enlarged ruby. You’d worn it for as long as he’d known you, but he always assumed you’d been forced to, that Signora had made some hollow threat about letting Sandrone weld it to your finger, or asking Capitano to make you one that grows tighter and hotter every time you try to take it off, or something else she’d never actually go through with. Now, you fiddled with it like an old comfort item, running the pad of your thumb over the crimson gem as if you were trying to wear down its edges. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“It’s just…” You turned away, sharply, more out of paranoia than any reluctance to go on. Consider the measures Signora took to isolate to (and the willingness the other Harbingers showed to maintain that isolation in her absence), he might’ve been the first person you’d spoken to sincerely since her death. Or, since she took you in the first place, depending on the kind of relationship you’d had with Signora behind closed doors. “Rosalyne took so much away from me. I don’t know if I have anything left, now that she’s gone.”

He was quiet, for a moment. Just a moment. Childe already knew what he wanted to say, but you didn’t have to know that.

“The weather can be harsh this time of year. In Snezhnaya, I mean.” He nodded towards the cathedral’s courtyard, to the starless sky and the layer of fresh snow. “You should get away.”

That earned a breath of a laugh. “I don’t know where I’d go. I don’t have anywhere to be, without her.” And then, with a pointed look towards the cathedral. “Besides, it’s not as if they’d let me go very far.”

“Not on your own, sure.” He let himself smile, this time, truly smile, hoping the dim light and the harsh shadows would disguise the sharper edges. “But, if you were to travel with another Harbinger, perhaps one stationed indefinitely in the very scenic, very distracting Liyue Harbor…?”

You scoffed, but your expression was more apprehensive than dismissive. A pet, still unwilling to escape its own restraints, but open to the idea of letting yourself be pulled from one lap to another. “And what use would the fearsome Tartaglia have for a grieving spouse in Liyue?”

“Do you honestly think I’m that utilitarian?” You nodded immediately, and Childe chuckled, letting his head lull to the side. “I just think it'd be nice to see a familiar face so far from home. It can get lonely on the other side of the world, and I wouldn’t mind having someone who doesn’t think of me as the renowned, infamous, stunningly brilliant, devastatingly handsome—” He clicked his tongue, bared his teeth. “—and so incredibly fearsome Tartaglia.”

“And, if I was to agree to accompanying you,” Your expression softened, and you adjusted your coat, pulling it over your chest. “When would we leave?”

“First thing tomorrow morning, Don’t worry about packing, either – the Northern Back always treats its guests with unwavering hospitality, and you’ll be on the arm of their most dutiful host.” He stepped around the torch, placing himself that much closer to you. “I’ll let the others know, too. All you need to worry about is getting yourself to the harbor by dawn.”

Your shoulders slumped, your posture losing its rigidity for the first time since he’d first seen you tonight. Since he'd met you. “Thank you, Ajax. I…” He heard the doors to the cathedral open, the sound of footsteps just starting to flow into the courtyard, and you lowered your voice, tilted your head back to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I just want to think about something that isn’t her.”

He only grinned, only draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his side. You brought up a hand, covering your mouth to stifle the small, bubbling laugh that might’ve escaped, otherwise. Your ring came back into view, and he found himself wondering if you would take it off tonight, or when you arrived in Liyue, when you were too distracted to realize it’d been slipped off of your finger. He wondered if you’d let him buy a replacement, or a dozen, or however many it took for you to forget that you’d ever worn anything else.

He wondered if you’d ever take a shining to sapphires, instead.