When Punishment Is Met With Perseverance

such an eventful world raid lmao.

when i realized what mob they were referring to, i malfunctioned 'cause i didnt know the nAME - and if i search it might take time and they'll leave so i just went for triangle ashddhakdhak

𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗗 𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗙𝗜𝗧 !

˖˚˳⊹ wearing a maid outfit for them feat. ayato : xiao : albedo : scaramouche : cyno : childe x fem! reader

˖˚˳⊹ warnings: nsfw

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗧𝗢

"oh," his voice was deep, would lie if he says he wasn't totally surprised but archons, what a tease you were right now in those clothes of yours, "darling, what honor to see you like this." his chuckle was dark, from deep inside of his throat as he reached over his hand for you to take it. You made yourself comfortable on his lap, straddling him as you didn't waste anymore time, slowly circling your hips teasingly over his growing erection. His had lolled back in his leather chair as he scrunched his eyes shut for a moment. Your hands grabbed onto his soft hair, massaging his scalp without ever losing on pace, still grinding against his leaking cock.

It seemed like he was tired from work, lazily dragging your clothed folds over his growing bulge as he admired the beauty in front of him from underneath his brows. "You're my maid now, hmm?" he just hummed his question, half lidded eyes pointing at your features. "so." slowly hooking your white lace panties to the side so your pussy was bare on top of his hidden cock now, "You're supposed to do everything I say." he finished the sentence off with a wink, grabbing onto the soft flesh of your thighs to push you onto his cock harder and fuck, you just wanted to cum right here and there, —twisting and turning—, movements never faltering. <3

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗫𝗜𝗔𝗢

You had your back to him when he opened the door to your knocking, but once turning quickly around to face your beautiful boyfriend, you saw his broad, surprised face, his cheeks blushed as he realized just what you were wearing right now. "I'm your maid tonight, baby." your voice was more cheeky than anything else, —almost baby like—, you knew he liked it that way. He only got more nervous the further he looked at your body, almost breaking the door frame he was holding on to right now. "a maid?" his question sounded over the top serious, as if he was trying his hardest to not let his guard down at all times.

"Yes." you paused before placing your pointer finger on his lips, "you can do whatever you want to me, tonight." slowly prancing it over his —lips, chest and stomach— until it hit his clothed bulge that was already throbbing against your touch. His adams apple bobbing harshly against his throat as xiao encircled your body with his arms, drawing you closer, letting you taste his hungry lips and archons, he can't remember the last time when he was this horny for you. Already ripping off all the unneeded fabric of your body to see your now exposed perky nipples wait for his touch. He didn't actually wait though and put the mounds of flesh in his mouth right away to suckle harshly on it while the other one was being pinched in between his thumb and pointer finger. You're in for a wild ride. <3

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗔𝗟𝗕𝗘𝗗𝗢

he was honestly too stunned to speak at first, lowkey thought he missed an important event in mondstadt or something. Once you reassured him though, that it wasn‘t in fact an event, but a little something for him, he quickly let go of his tense expression. He‘s been always so good to you :( always making you feel good so it‘s only natural for you to give him a day of pleasure. "You can touch me, you know" you‘re grinning, so fucking proud of making him so unbelievably flustered right now, standing tall in front of him while albedo was still settled on his chair.

His hands slowly reached out for your hips to grab onto your soft flesh, feeling how good you felt underneath his skin made him throb against his pants, "push your dress up." he‘s cold with that certain command, taking it seriously now as he carefully hooked his fingers up the waistband of your white panties, dragging them down and exposing your soft folds to the cold room. He was quick with it, really. Pushing his head hard against your pussy to taste the already leaking juices while simultaniously grabbing onto your leg to slightly pull it up for good measure. You were only able to hold onto his scalp for additional support, unable to comprehend anything anymore as he ate you out like it was his last meal, slowly moving his pointer finger to your entrance to prod a digit in since he knows he had to prepare you before diving his fat cock into your needy pussy.

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗘

you were currently kneeling in between his thighs, lazily suckling on his cock with a maid outfit that was already half ripped. By the looks of it you can clearly see that scaramouche was more than delighted to see you like this, so fucking obedient and ready to be devoured by his aura. "Fuck." his breathing was heavy, —but his tone was dark—, barely a whisper if anything, he doesn‘t want to show you just how off guard you caught him today, with that little stunt of yours. Just how dare you look all pretty in that maid dress, so confident with your breasts perking up nicely from the small corset, like a dream come true, really.

"don‘t you dare stop." he‘s whimpering now when you picked up on pace, remotely letting his tip hit the back of your throat, over and over again and archons, throat fucking you was his absolute favorite. The way you were trying to suck him in was almost to die for, groaning out against gritted teeth as he looked down on you. Your chin messily stained with both your saliva and his cum, a fucking sinful masterpiece in his eyes. His hands found refuge in your hair and pulled back a few of your strands so he could clearly see your fucked out face. You knew he was about to spill his seed into you once he was rutting his cock inside of your mouth, meeting your pace halfway and once he filled your throat with warm white ribbons, he —as always— expects you to swallow all of it like a good little maid would. <3

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗖𝗬𝗡𝗢

He's a flustered mess, tries his hardest to hide it but fails regardless. Was just tinkering in his lab a moment ago when you decided too grace him with your appearance, head to toe with an adorable maid outfit. He gulped out harshly against his throat, licking his lips in nervousness before he advanced towards your waiting figure. "You." he stopped mid sentence once he reached you, lips mere inches away from one another, "you're beautiful." he caught his breath in his throat, feeling how your fingers lazily stroked over his stoned stomach.

It didn't take cyno long to actually close the distance between your faces and kiss you passionately, at first it was more teeth and tongue than anything though, far too gone in your beauty had him already seeing stars. His hands quickly finding refuge on your behind as he felt up the tiny lace that decorated your body in the utmost erotic way, he's so fucking lucky to have you. His fingertips prancing over your pussy, —that eagerly awaited him already—, as he prodded the first digit against your hole, teasing you for what's more to come later. He didn‘t want to overdo it but once he felt you basically rut against his pointer finger, he immediately went in knuckles deep, grazing in with his nails before finding that sweet spot of yours. <3

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗗𝗘

after a long work day, ajax thought he‘d come home to your cute figure sleeping soundly on your shared bed but once he actually saw you waiting for him, —dressed like a maid—, he could already feel his cock twitch deep inside his pants. Balls getting heavy by the mere thought of filling you up with his seed tonight, can‘t wait to be honest. He‘s licking his lips before narrowing an eyebrow at you, "what do we have here?" His question was almost cute, really, as you slowly guided him on top of you so he‘d hover over your body. Creaking noises of the bed —because of his added weight— were falling against deaf ears once you spread your legs further apart for him. He was licking his lips as if he was preparing himself for a meal, which he kind of was if we‘re being honest.

You could feel him smirk against your body once he placed wet kisses all over your stomach, pushing up the dress so he‘d see your soaked lace panties that were desperately waiting to be ripped apart by him, which he then, —of course did—. Carefully lowering his head to place a messy kiss on your throbbing folds, licking all the way up your clit to slowly circle his tongue over your bundle of nerves. He won‘t stop there though, ajax really wanted to taste you tonight, moving down to your hole to desperately suckle up everything you gave him so far. "My cute little maid, only spreading your legs for me, right?" he grinned at you while sliding his first digit in, going back to grinding his tongue against your clit. <3

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

Repentance

Part 3 of ‘Retribution’

warnings: smut, angst (again ofc) jealous! Aemond

a/n: I’m sorry I haven’t gotten around to answering everyone who’s left me anon messages, I appreciate you all & your suggestions! (Newly edited) I added everyone I could to the taglist, I’m so sorry if I missed you, I tried to add you but your usernames weren’t working for some reason :( 

(au purposes let’s pretend Cregan has a son named Brandon)

—

Aemond grunts, his long strands of silver hair shielding his face as his hips ground into hers. Sweat beading his forehead and loins aching for release, he begs the gods to help him reach his high at a quicker pace. Her mewling and moans beneath him don’t deter him to steer away from his thoughts. Thoughts that were plagued of her. His wife that felt a million miles away from him in Kingslanding.

“Faster, my love” Alys cries out beneath him, her words only then causing him to break from his trance. His skin slaps against hers more frequently as he pounds harder, his mind continuing to ponder over the intrusive thoughts that enter his head about his beloved wife.

The way her skin feels— so soft and supple as she would caress his hands and occasionally his face if he would allow her. Smile that lit up every room she walked into, the same one that he no longer saw anymore— his privilege of seeing it being ripped away the moment he started to neglect her.

As his mind fills of glimpses of her, only then does he feel the lead to his release. The ache starting to uncoil as he allows himself to imagine that it isn’t Alys beneath him. He doesn’t see her face when he glances down at Alys. Her dark brown hair turned silver in his mind, brown eyes the same violet shade he saw in his own reflection. As he uses his free hand to fondle her breast, toying with her nipple he imagines his wife’s figure. Her cleavage that he would glance at briefly clear as day in his thoughts. He would never stare longer than he should’ve, always turning a blind eye to such a desirable place out of respect for her.

He didn’t care about respect in this moment, defiling you and your honour in his mind, Aemond works toward his orgasm. Panting and hips starting to ache, his thrusts become more powerful as he grows nearer. His thoughts of you repeating as he imagines that you are beneath him, you are the one shuddering from pleasure, walls squeezing him tight as you near your own release. He imagines Alys’ moans and whimpers are emanating from your lips.

“I love you” Alys cries out, hands grasping ahold of Aemond’s face— pulling him down to place her lips on his. He pushes through her orgasm, his hips still pounding into hers as he chases his own high. He shuts his eyes as he envisions you, loving him again— holding him as you used to attempt to, playing with his hair and reading to him. He finally cums, his eye shut tight as he slips out of Alys, grasping ahold of his cock as he releases onto her stomach.

Your name is on the tip of his tongue as he moans out.

“Must you leave so soon?” Alys hums, disappointment clear in her tone as she strokes his naked back that is turned to her. He ignores her, pulling on his trousers as he tries to locate his shirt she so carelessly threw away from him.

“My beloved, please answer me” Alys pleads, eyes watching the silver haired man pace around infront of her as he collects his belongings.

“You have had me for nearly a whole day, my love. Have you not grown sick of me yet?” Aemond chuckles, flashing her a grin that reassures her instantly. She had begun to worry she had completely lost him to you.

“Not when I’m aware you return to her. Not when I know I won’t see you again until a few days time” She huffs, clearly frustrated with the situation they were in.

“What will you have me do? Leave my duties as a prince and husband so we can fuck all day and night beneath the roof of this Inn?” Aemond’s remark is dripping with sarcasm— his tone causing her to scoff as she pulls her own nightgown on.

“I do not care for your tone, Aemond” She mutters as she moves round the bed to reach him, her arms coiling around his waist as she leans her head against his back.

“If it is guilt of infidelity that is stopping you from being mine, I may have a solution. One that would remove your wife from the equation permanently” Her words are venomous as they ring in his ears, her implication of using her witchcraft to kill his wife causing him to pull away from her.

“Utter those words again and I shall have you done for treason. You will not lay a finger on my wife, am I understood?” Aemond hisses as he turns to grasp her jaw tightly, her eyes widening at his sudden outburst. She nods immediately, pausing for a moment— Aemond lets his hold on her linger before he releases.

“I need her alive and able in order to play the role my mother has bestowed upon me” Aemond excuses, questioning his own reasons for why he reacted so strongly upon hearing about his wife’s potential demise.

He gives Alys an apologetic hug, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulls her into his body. Regardless of his behaviour just moments ago, Alys still embraces him— sighing in relief at his warmth.

“I just do not understand why we must be so far from each other— she has already given her permission for us to love” Alys murmurs into his shirt, looking up at Aemond who gives her a reassuring smile.

“She may have but the rest of my family have not. My head will be on a spike before the end of the night if my mother were to find out I was pursuing you” Aemond sighs heavily, his mind flashing back to moments ago when it was plagued with the thought of his wife.

“I must go” Aemond mutters before he places a soft kiss on Alys’ forehead. He felt his stomach tighten in knots at the thought of finally seeing his wife— you, waiting for him at Kingslanding. He felt as excited as a young child was for sweets— he could hardly contain his excitement.

Your husband enters your bedchamber, announcing his presence by knocking on your door. Much to his confusion, you are nowhere to be seen. Usually you would be preparing for dinner— your handmaidens helping assist you as you change into your dresses. Aemond huffs out in slight dissapointment before he reluctantly returns to his own bedchambers.

He doesn’t want to admit that he constantly observes the door, waiting for you to barge in at any moment now— apologising for your tardiness before you take a seat beside him. When moments pass without a sign of you, Aemond downs his goblet of wine, a slight scowl gracing his features as he begins to grow impatient with your absence.

“Where is my wife?” Aemond questions the table, causing everyone’s idle chatter to quiet as they turn to him. Alicent is the first to respond, reassuring him that you are probably on dragon back and getting some fresh air. He hums, unsatisfied with her answer but still agreeing to leave it alone as he picks at his food.

Aegon saunters toward his brother, pulling the free seat out beside him with an obnoxious screech of the chairs legs. Aemond tuts as his brother slumps down on the seat, pulling the holder full of wine to pour an excessive amount into his goblet.

“You’re unaware of your own wife’s whereabouts— how sad is that” Aegon smirks, wiping away the excess wine around his mouth with his sleeve.

“Bother someone else with your remarks, brother. I am not in the mood” Aemond grunts, eye casting away from his brother to observe the others present in the room.

“Whether you believe me or not, I know of your wife’s whereabouts. She and a certain visitor from the North are parading around flea bottom at this very moment” Aegon says, lowering his voice as he informs his brother of his wife’s secret.

Aemond has every right to accuse Aegon of lying, he’s Aegon for god’s sakes. Only a fool would trust him and his word. But instinct tells Aemond that his brother is speaking the truth, so he hums as he thinks to himself. Jealousy plants itself inside of him like a disease, growing stronger by every minute that passes of Aemond imagining you with this so called visitor from the North. He already felt the strong urge to gut the man, exile him to death for attempting to steal his wife and better yet endangering her by leaving the Red Keep’s grounds to explore. 

She isn’t yours. We had an agreement.

These thoughts play on Aemond’s mind as he tries to rid himself of the feeling he just previously had, his possessive mind easing as he tries to see reason. He had his Alys, his one true love— why should he feel the need to claim you as his too. He was being too greedy. 

“Cregan Stark’s son and her. They sneak back in through the west side of the garden, brother” Aegon mutters in his ear as he pushes out of his seat to stumble off, stopping briefly as he rests his hand against Aemond’s shoulder. At Aegon’s words, Aemond feels his strong feelings return— jealousy and anger over clouding his better judgement. 

Dinner concludes and you still haven’t arrived back from wherever you are, whether it be in flea bottom or dragon back, Aemond was determined to find out if Aegon’s claims were true. So he stays posted on the west side of the garden, hidden securely behind a few trees and bushes as he picks at the fallen leaves that surround him. He’s close to questioning his sanity as time passes, wondering if his brother fooled him yet again and was now laughing at Aemond’s stupidity for actually waiting for them to return. 

It is confirmed when he hears your beautiful laughter carrying through the night air. He sees the two of you walking back through the trees that lead to a brick wall— ah that’s how they sneak back in. A lump grows in Aemond’s throat as he observes how closely you are to the Stark boy, your arms linked— bodies mere inches from touching and a wide grin on your face as you look up at him.

I could make you laugh.

Aemond thinks to himself as his chest starts to ache. You had tried to jest with him many times at the beginning of your marriage, always telling him jokes and trying to find common ground through humour. Aemond regrets all those times he would wear a straight face, dismissing you and your jokes instantly.

                                     —

The warm air causes your cheeks to blush as you pull away gently from Brandon, your face sore from all the smiling you’ve been doing all evening. You couldn’t contain yourself, you never can around him. He sighs heavily as he stands infront of you, grasping ahold of one of your hands as he lifts it to his lips— placing a gentle kiss on your skin.

“Departing from you pains me greatly” The older boy jests, hand over his heart dramatically as he pretends to groan out in pain.

“You’ll see me tomorrow, you child” You snort, another grin gracing your face as you watch the man infront of you laugh.

“And the day after that… and the day after that— and the day…” You decide to cut off his teasing by pulling him forward by the wrist so you can lean up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“I bid you goodnight” You hum, satisfied when you see him smile at the feeling of your lips on his skin. Embarrassed by your sudden action, you turn on your heel and begin your walk back to your bedchamber— a smile clear on your face as you try to contain yourself.

The Stark boy clouded your thoughts so much so you didn’t notice the way the group of trees beside you rustled suspiciously. Your husband who finally leaves his hiding place after waiting for almost an hour, huffs as he tries to contain himself. In all honesty, he wanted to maim the Lord’s son who had the privilege of your lips being on his skin. He decides against making any rash decisions and follows after you once there’s some distance.

You’re in your bedchamber for mere minutes before you hear a knock on your door. Clothes already discarded on the floor from being half undressed, you grab a loose bedsheet and wrap it around yourself hastily before you move to open the door.

“Aemond, what are you doing here at this hour?” You question him, confused as to why he was standing outside of your door. You catch his eye skimming across your body, his gaze causing you to shift in discomfort.

Aemond shamelessly wonders what lies beneath the sheet you’re holding so tightly against your body, his mind flooding of the indecent thoughts he had of you during his time with Alys— his cock growing half hard as he views you now.

“Can a husband not wish to see his wife?” Aemond tuts, gaze finally leaving your body as he looks behind you— silently observing the way your clothes are strewn on the floor.

He wonders if there is someone in your bed, perhaps the Stark boy found a secret entry way into your room after parting ways in the garden. The mere thought of you taking him to bed causes discomfort to settle in Aemond’s gut, the raging emotions of jealousy returning as he imagines you bedding anyone that wasn’t him.

His worries are put to rest when you pull the door back further and stand aside to let him in, holding it open for him as you wait for him to enter.

“How was your time with Alys?” You question him after you shut the door behind him, moving toward the bed to grab your nightwear. Aemond moves to sit on the seat by the fireplace, eye watching the flames dance as he answers.

He hadn’t thought of Alys since the moment he returned to Kingslanding, you being at the forefront of his mind this whole evening. You plague his very thoughts, even as you stand beside him now you continue to hold such power over him. But you didn’t need to know that.

“It was most enjoyable. Although I spent half the time in her bed” Aemond hopes that hearing of his shared intimacy with Alys evokes envy from you. He wants you to burn for him, desire him and grow jealous at the thought of someone else bedding him. Unbeknownst to him, his words cause just that— your cheeks warming at the thought of him in that way.

“That is good news” You simply hum, not bothering to question him any further about it. You sigh heavily as you try to dress from beneath the sheet, afraid that Aemond will see you in such an indecent state. Yes, you may be husband and wife but you never did consummate the marriage all those months ago.

On the night of your wedding, neither of you wished to indulge in intimacy to bind your marriage— you had pondered on the idea momentarily, your desires for him over shadowing your clarity as you both stalled on the act. Aemond found a way to convince the party set to witness the consummation, promising greater results if they were to wait outside the chamber. Blood was shed on the sheets but it had not been from your virginity being taken and more so your palm.

“How inconsiderate of me to not question you about your own night, beloved wife” Aemond’s tone is clear that he has underlying intentions with his question,  intentions of interrogating you about your whereabouts. 

“No need to feel guilty. I spent my afternoon on dragon back, just catching the sunset on time” You lie, hoping he didn’t see right through the smile you front to him. His facial expression is unreadable as he stares over at you, narrowing his eye he lets out a hum. 

“You don’t stink of dragon. The sun set hours ago…” Aemond trails off, an accusatory tone in his voice as he moves to push forward in his seat. You exhale heavily, piling your clothes into a bundle before setting it aside– you want to appear being busy so you don’t break under his gaze. 

“I am exhausted from the day. I have no time for your accusations, prince Aemond–” 

“My prince or better yet dear husband. Either title is preferred” Aemond cuts you off, standing from his seat he strides toward you– hands moving to grasp your face in his palms. You’re taken aback from his sudden gesture, confusion written on your face at his sudden outburst.

“I do not appreciate when you call me so formally. It is if I am a stranger to you. We are still married, you needn’t forget that” Aemond mutters to you now that you are inches apart from each other. You see the way his eye trails from your gaze down toward your lips, ever so parted as you breath heavily in his grasp– he’s tempted to press his lips against yours. Burning to taste you on his tongue, to claim the kiss that belonged to him, not the Stark boy. 

You force yourself out of his grasp and turn away, huffing as you avoid eye contact with him. Trying to calm your unstable breathing, you muster out “You must leave now” to Aemond before you brush past him to look out at the view, to distract yourself from the man before you. Aemond wears regret on his sleeve as he bids you goodnight, leaving your bedchamber with his head swelling with thoughts of what he could’ve done differently. 

He knows he’s upset you, having days pass with continuous silence from you, he can’t help but let your cold behaviour toward him affect his daily duties. He hasn’t visited Alys in over a week’s time, even after promising he would take no longer than three days to revisit her, he postpones the trip– prioritising you and salvaging what’s left of this broken marriage. 

He watches with bitterness on his tongue as you and the Stark boy rest beneath the weir wood tree, both sat side by side with your knees practically touching, he wonders what he’s said to make you smile. If only he could hear from this distance. Take mental notes about what to say to make you laugh, how to make you smile so brightly. 

“You’re yet to drink your tea, dear brother. Something the matter?” Aegon’s voice pulls Aemond’s gaze away from his wife and the boy– shaking his head, Aemond moves to sip his tea. He knows Aegon is trying to stir the pot, well aware he knows of the rumours spreading about his wife. With the two of them sat together as comfortable as they are, it was as if they were parading their love in front of Aemond’s face– giving Aegon even more things to use against his brother. 

“A mere Stark boy stealing a prince’s wife. It’s a truly sad tale” Aegon says lowly to Aemond, barely biting back a smile as he teases his brother. Aemond had always been the more level headed brother, calmer and more reserved than Aegon – he was never one to publicly display his anger. But in this moment, the thought of stringing Aegon along the table of cutlery sounded tempting to Aemond. 

“I suggest you hold your tongue” Aemond mutters, causing Aegon to let out a snort. Pushing back, Aemond’s gaze returns to your face— the sight of your smile easing him slightly. You never smile at him, hardly ever the last month that’s passed. But he remembers when you used to, on your wedding day and the first few days that followed.

“You and your tongues” Aegon tuts, referring to Aemond’s threat of severing yours that one night at the dinner table. Cregan, Alicent and Otto discuss their leave tomorrow morn at the end of the table— their words bringing Aemond some relief.

At least the Stark boy will leave Kings landing, be as far away from my wife as possible. Aemond thinks to himself as he picks at his nail beds absentmindedly.

“And what of your son Brandon?” Alicent questions Cregan, causing Aemond’s ears to perk up at the mentioning of the boy beneath the tree. So that’s the Stark boy’s name.

“He will return to Winterfell in a month’s time. He wishes to stay longer, fascinated by your swordsmanship — he wishes to learn more of the sport” Cregan hums, catching Aemond’s full attention as he sees an opportunity at hand.

“If your son wishes to improve his swordsmanship, I shall tutor him. I best all the knights and swordsman in Kings landing, you’ll find no better than me” Aemond announces, the eyes around the table shifting to look at him. Alicent wears a look of confusion at her son’s sudden proposal. She comes to realisation why he jumped at the opportunity when she glances at the two beneath the tree— she tuts and turns away.

“He would be honoured, my prince. We give thanks to you” Cregan says, smiling at Aemond with appreciation— unaware of the man’s true intentions. Aemond nods, turning to look at the boy he plan to soon rid of.

—

a/n: sorry if there’s any typos— half of it is unedited :p

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"Diluc, just let her(their daughter) have some fun for a while. She's been cooped up for long and just... Just let her have this, please"

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of emotional abuse

He regards you with a pensive look. He looks tired and overburdened. He sighs at your words, turning his head back to look at your daughter, curled up on the small child-sized chair pushed up against the window. The book in her lap is open, forgotten, and she stares out the window with a sad longing that makes your heart hurt.

You know that look.  You know that longing.

Yet at least this overly protective side of Diluc’s fatherhood was something new. Something temporary, you hoped, because you couldn’t imagine your daughter flourishing under Diluc’s tighter reins. 

He had been surprisingly open to letting her enjoy a carefree childhood, and though there was something sick and bitter that grew in your heart when you realized your daughter had more freedom than you ever would, you stamped it down again and again over the years. Let her enjoy that freedom. Let her live the life you couldn’t.

And she did.

Until a few weeks ago.

Your daughter had come running into your arms one morning, eyes filled with tears, voice pitched in some helpless warble that sounded so unlike her. It was more than alarming. Papa, she said, had told her that she wouldn’t be allowed to go into town today after all. She wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere. Not even to the local school where she’d been attending expensive, exclusive classes. The next day was the same. And the next, and the next.

Oh, he got her new books, and you and the maids and even Diluc himself took turns tutoring her. And she had more toys than she knew what to do with, and she wasn’t discouraged from talking to the maids and cooks, who started eyeing her with more and more pitiful glances as the days, now weeks, went on.

“It’s for her own safety,” is all he said, when you questioned him. “It’s for her protection.”

You’d heard those lines before, but never aimed at your daughter, whose boundless energy kept her outdoors wandering the vineyards; kept her flitting into town with her father, with maids on errands; kept her visiting friends and schoolmates; attending parties, birthdays and childhood afternoon teas filled with pastel pastries.

But the endless days indoors and lack of friends were beginning to change her now. She wasn’t just bored or frustrated. She was losing something, some critical part of herself that had sparked the first time she’d been taken outdoors and was kept lit all these years.

You’d lost that part of yourself. And now he was taking it away from her.

“Diluc,” you repeat, persistent. “You see how this is affecting her. I know you do.” His tired eyes flit from her to you, and you know he sees what you see. It’s like she’s becoming grey.

You turn and gently tug on his arm, and he follows you away from the doorway of her playroom. When you’re safely out of earshot, you turn to him again.

“Why are you doing this?”

“It’s for--” he begins, and you press your hand to his lips, taking a step closer and bringing yourself against his body. The intimacy of the gesture is lost on neither of you. You can’t afford to feel standoffish today, not on important matters like these.

“Yes, I know.  You’ve told me. But why? What has changed from before?”

There’s something in his eyes that darkens. A knowledge he doesn’t want to share with you.

“Diluc,” you say, pressing your hand into his. He accepts it and you squeeze.

He regards you for some time. You don’t say anything, because you know he’s deciding on something. His voice is low and grave when he speaks.

“Children have been going missing. No one knows why or who…” His next pause leaves much unsaid. “But I can’t risk our daughter’s safety. She could be a target.”

You close your eyes and nod. It’s not… wholly unreasonable. But the current situation is not sustainable, and you very much doubt that all the parents in the region are keeping their children like prisoners in their own homes. Manors or not.

“This is killing her,” you whisper, with the confidence that comes from previous experience of what such isolation does to a person. “You’ll kill a part of her that she’ll never get back if you don’t do something.”

When you open your eyes and look at him again, you feel your eyes brimming with tears. You didn’t expect to see his own just as shimmery.

“I know.” He presses you close to him, holding you too tightly for a moment before lessening his grip.

“I’ll…” He pulls back, and toys with the collar of your shirt. “I’ll take her with me into town today. Perhaps we can stop by one of her friend’s homes, for a little visit.”

It’s not much. But it will be enough to keep your daughter’s spark from being totally snuffed out. For now, at least.

“Thank you,” you answer, and you mean it.

Title: Clear As Porcelain.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.4k.

TW: Kidnapping, Mentions of Death/Injury, and Slight Dehumanization.

You heard Scaramouche’s laugh before you ever saw his face.

It might've been more like a cackle, actually – the noise so uneven and so cracked, you mistook it for the screeching of a wild animal, assumed a frightened boar or a very distressed bird had wandered into your storefront and would find its way out again, after it calmed down. You only thought to look up from the ceramic figurine you were painting (a commissioned piece of the Shogun in all of her awe-inspiring, ethereal grace) when you heard the door to your workshop crash open and hit the opposing wall with enough force to shake the contents of a shelf hanging nearby. He was standing there, disheveled, grinning, his clothes soaked and his eyes wild, and he was mumbling – to himself, at first, and then loudly, his voice spiking as his tone dipped into something sharp and erratic. “That bitch, she could’ve—She tried to take my fucking arm off. I’ll fucking kill her. I’ll choke her to death with her own fucking tail—”

“Sir,” You cut him off, turning to face him. His hair was partially seared, too, despite the fact that he looked like he’d just crawled out of the ocean. Faintly, you could smell traces of smoke and ozone, but you were more preoccupied by the puddle he was going to leave on your floor than whatever mess he'd clearly gotten himself into before barging into your shop. “We’ve already closed for the night. If you want to place an order, you can—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He was already limping forward, already shoving armloads of supplies and half-finished projects out of his way as he pulled himself onto your worktable. He stopped at the figurine, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second, but that was on the floor too soon enough. You heard something crack, but your attention was pulled away before you could evaluate the damage, back to Scaramouche, now lying on the wooden tabletop, pulling his tattering sleeve up to his shoulder. “Fix it. I don’t care how. I’ll pay you when you’re done, just make sure it looks like the rest.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. The injury was on his bicep, if you could really call it an injury at all. It was more like… shattered porcelain, what should’ve been torn, bloodied skin replaced with ragged cracks and chipped paint. Some portions were missing entirely, giving way to black void. There was no blood, or muscle, or fat. There was nothing, save for the interior shell of his arm on the other side.

He was as hollow as a doll.

Huh.

You reached over him, to the other side of your table, grabbing the container of resin he’d nearly overturned. The hardener was already in your pocket, and you could mix your paint later on, while the plaster dried. You had a feeling he wouldn’t think to question it, if you took your time. “Please, try to hold still. I’ll be gentle.”

He didn’t. Honestly, you doubted he’d even heard you, too preoccupied with his own manic, meaningless rambling. You were able to convince him to lay down, to let you work on his bicep without having to worry that you’d leave him stuck to your table with a thin layer of white cement. You were able to lay the resin, and as you sanded down the excess, his ranting came back into earshot, his words once again beginning to form coherent thoughts, more or less. “She tried to kill me.I don't know why. She’d already killed, I don’t fucking know—” He brought up his free hand, gesturing vaguely. “—all of my men. I don’t know what she wants. What could she even do to me that her and her fucking girlfriend haven’t already done?”

The rest of his arm was porcelain, too. Disguised porcelain, sure, clearly meant to mimic flesh and bone, but you recognized good craftsmanship, the little methods and techniques employed to trick the eye and present dead clay as something else, something with more life inside of it. You wondered, briefly, if it was a prosthetic, but it would’ve had to start somewhere closer to his collarbone than his shoulder, and you could see his fingers twitching as you smoothed over rough mortar, as you did your best to make the patch indistinguishable from what you could see of his undamaged skin. If you could call it ‘skin’.

Suddenly, Scaramouche fell silent. After a moment, you realized he wanted a response. You hesitated, but forced yourself to say something, if only so you could focus on the task at-hand. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

“She’s always wanted me dead.” You pushed your chair back. You’d been painting when he came in, but what little you’d had on your palette had long-since dried and cracked, and the rest of your supplies were in a cabinet hung on the far wall. You could feel his eyes boring into you as you searched for what you’d need. When you glanced over your shoulder, he didn’t bother trying to look away. “I don’t know what she has against me. I’ve never done anything to her, or that tyrant.”

“Some people just choose to be cruel, like that. There isn’t always a reason for it.”

His voice was quieter, now, slower. He let his head roll back, his attention falling to the ceiling. “People say I’m cruel.”

“You don't seem very cruel to me.”

He didn’t answer. By the time you found your way back to him, his eyes were closed, and he didn’t wake up until long after the sun rose the next morning.

~

A week after he left, a man in a uniform came to your door and announced that he’d been ordered to escort you to the estate of his master, the Balladeer, Honorable Lord Scaramouche. When you asked why you were being summoned, he told you to bring your tools, and you asked no other questions.

He received you in his parlor, a large room made just a little smaller by the painted screens that lined every wall, made just a little more oppressive by the fact that it was empty of all but you, Scaramouche, a low chabudai, and the tea tray that sat on top of it. You sat across from him, tucking your legs underneath you and keeping your tool kit at your side. No sooner than you'd settled into place, Scaramouche nodded, and the soldier took his leave, bowing and closing the door behind him.

He started, predictably. There was no greeting, but you hadn’t expected one, not really. Not from him. “I trust you've realized that our last transaction will have to stay between us.” Formal words, made to cut precisely and leave no room for error or argument, so unlike his manic rambling from the week before. It didn’t suit him, as a costume of fine lace and silk wouldn’t suit a child’s mangled toy. “It would be… inconvenient, for me and the organization I represent, if the Shogunate was forced to waste their time and look into our actions. I’m sure an investigation would be an issue for your business, as well, and make it difficult for us to reimburse you for the services you’ve already provided.” He paused, leaning onto the chabudai. “Wouldn't you agree?”

You didn’t hesitate, this time. “A client asked me to repair something very important to him. I don’t see why the Shogunate has to know anything else.”

There were no visible signs of approval, no hum or nod of his head. He closed his eyes, instead, and brought a hand up to the collar of his nagagi, toying with the fabric as he spoke. “And if this client asked you to make another repair, would you accept the job with the same discretion?”

A few minutes later, Scaramouche's nagagi was pooled around his waist and you were kneeling behind him, mixing your plaster as you looked over the array of lesions scattered across his back. They weren’t scars, exactly, and you didn’t want to call them open wounds. If anything, they were more similar to scrapes, deep scratches in his porcelain that darkened and cracked at the edges, forming a sprawling web of hairline fractures. It was a wonder he was still in one piece, honestly. It seemed like a strong gust of wind would be enough to shatter him.

It was a momentary impulse, as fleeting as it was self-serving, but before you could swallow it down, you ran your hand over his back, tracing over a cut that ran parallel to his spine. He tensed, glanced towards you, and you offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen something so…”

“Bizarre?” The suggestion was accompanied by a bark of laughter, a wild grin. “You nation has dancing tanuki and wandering spirits. You can’t tell me that I’m the only oddity you’ve ever run into.”

“Well-crafted,” You mumbled, already distracted. He was more awake than he had been last time you’d worked on him, more aware, and he shuddered as you spread the plaster over the uppermost lesion, curling into himself before he could correct his posture. “Oh, does that hurt?”

That wasn’t really what you meant, but Scaramouche didn’t give you a chance to correct yourself. “It’d hurt more to let my body cave in on itself, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I could use a different technique.” If the rest of his body was like his arm, he probably didn’t have a rib cage, or shoulder-blades, or anything you had to be wary of or avoid. Still, you tried to work around what might affect his mobility, and when it came time to cut away the excess, you worked quickly, unsure if he could feel what hadn’t already set. “Or, we could bring in a healer. They couldn’t use pyro or hydro, but—”

“That’s not an option.” He didn’t even give you a chance to finish, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders – nearly causing you to chip away a piece of his side, in the process. “This is going to stay between us. No one else has to know. It would be—” He cut himself off with an airy sigh, as shallow as it was exhausted. “I don’t need my subordinates spreading rumors about my ball-joints. You’re not to breathe a word of this to anyone, from the Shogunate or otherwise.”

You were quiet, for a moment.

Then, you leaned against him, resting one hand on the dip of his shoulder while the other fell to the small of his back, your fingertips pushing absentminded patterns into his cool skin. “For such an important client?”

He grit his teeth as you started, but didn’t make a sound.

“Consider it our secret.”

~

Six months and a dozen appointments later, you woke up on a bed, in the cabin of a ship, your wrists bound behind your back and a bruise beginning to form on your cheek from where his soldier had struck you before driving a needle into the side of your neck.

He was sitting on the edge of the mattress, gaze cast downward. When you began to stir, he , a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked over your bound form. If there was any part of him you didn’t care for, it would’ve had to be his eyes. They lacked something, a certain light that should’ve been there if he’d been made of something else, if he’d been just a little more alive. You doubted you could’ve done any better, but that didn’t mean you had to praise his lifeless stare.

“It was a new recruit. I’ll have his fingers broken when we dock – or if he’s foolish enough to show his face to me before then, the next time I see him.” For a second, you wondered what he was talking about, but his hand came up, cupping your injured cheek, and your confusion was quickly replaced with hollow irritation, traces of dampened panic. “I didn’t tell him not to hit you, but archons, you’d think one of these imbeciles would be able to think for themselves. If anyone on this ship so much as looks at you, tell me. The last thing I need to deal with is idiots as disobedient as they are stupid.”

“I don’t—” You tried to sit up, only to fall back onto your side immediately. Your vision blurred, spun, and your body felt weak, as if your blood had been drained from your veins and replaced with solid lead. He laughed as you clenched your eyes shut and shrunk into yourself, as you tried to get the world around you to stop moving, if only for long enough to let you catch your breath. “Scaramouche, I—”

“Kunikuzushi.” A slightly tightened grip, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone in a gesture that you could nearly call tender. “Say it for me.”

“Kunikuzushi…” Your voice was quiet, weak. You felt weak. You probably looked weak, too, but he didn’t seem to care. “Wha—What’s going on? I can’t—”  

He was grinning, now, the expression eager and unabashed. “It’s nothing you’ll have to worry about. Her Excellency has called me back to Snezhnaya, and I thought it would be wise to keep my dollmaker in the same country as myself.” A blade was produced from his belt, or a nearby dresser, or some other forsaken place, and the rope circled around your wrist was cut with no great amount of thought or ceremony. You were dragged into his lap with just as little ease, your head soon resting on his thighs and his fingers soon skirting over your neck, your shoulder. His hands were so cold, as if he’d never known an ounce of warmth in his life. As if he’d never bothered to make himself into anything more than damp clay. “I’ve already taken care of your store. You can thank me later on, when we go over what could and what couldn’t be salvaged from the fire.”

You took a long moment to remember how to use your tongue, how to speak with any confidence. Even after that, it still came out so quietly, you had to question if he heard you at all. “And if I don’t want to go with you?”

A light chuckle, in response, the noise wistful and idle and awful. “You will,” He said, the promise as hollow as he was.

“Soon enough, you'll only ever want to be by my side.”

i see that your bio says requests are open, but if there’s been a mistake and they’re not then feel free to decline this! it may be a little suggestive if you squint but i was thinking: how would xiao, thoma, and albedo react to you giving them a hickey? neck kisses are top tier so i always love headcanons like these, hehe! have a nice day

part two (scaramouche, kazuha)

authors note ⊱ requests are still definitely open!!! anyway u raise interesting thoughts............................................ sips my im-a-simp juice im not saying neck kisses / hickeys are my shit.......... BUT THEY’RE MY SHIT,,,

also maybe this shouldve been wholesome but why do that when u can write sin

(btw if anyone wants other characters for this feel free to send a request c: )

characters ⊱ xiao, thoma, albedo

warnings ⊱ completely safe! enjoy!

rating ⊱ not sfw, if ur a minor pls dni or ignore,,, im not responsible for ur actions

xiao

he definitely enjoys it, especially when your mouth catches right underneath his jaw, where he really likes it

the throat is a very vulnerable place, and that already makes it pretty intense, but couple that with the fact xiao requires a lot of trust and love to be able to let someone this close makes it a thousand times more overwhelming

he flushes up and becomes a shuddering, grinding mess, grunting through his teeth, trying to choke down the whines into something that sounded less pathetic, but they end up slipping out anyway

he might act like he’s had enough or that he wants you to get on with it, “are you done yet?” but if you actually did stop, he would greedily insist you keep going, because he loves it (even if he wouldn’t directly admit it)

enjoys the feeling of being marked, but doesn’t quite get it beyond that

he also doesn’t get embarrassed by it at all, he just gets annoyed if random people point it out; whatever he does in private is no one else’s business but his, and he thinks they should just ignore it (unless it’s someone he knows like zhongli or hu tao. then he’s extremely embarrassed, gritting a snarky response through his teeth)

still, he probably insists you give him more

when they fade away, he’s desperate to make sure you give him new ones; there’s something oddly gratifying about it that he doesn’t want to take the time to personally examine, he just wants it, wants you

however, he wants to return the favor as well; when you’re not ravaging his neck, he’s ravaging yours

albedo

loves it, it’s actually his favorite place to be kissed

it doesn’t matter if you just ghost your mouth across his skin, even the slightest touch will have his heart racing, his breath leaving him in short, shallow gasps—he’s sensitive

melts when you suck, lick, bite, any and all of it

either way, he’s immediately melting and whimpering, practically crumbling into your arms, tilting his head to the side to invite more and more and more of your attention

being marked there is definitely very much welcomed

doesn’t care too much if people see it, but he wears high-collared jackets pretty normally anyway; i also see him as a frequent enjoyer of turtlenecks

even if someone points it out, he isn’t really embarrassed because they see it, but rather because it reminds him of how he recieved it (he brushes his fingers over the mark, cheeks warming; he shivers at his own touch, but it can’t quite mimic the way you made him feel)

loves, loves those open mouthed, sort of wet kisses you leave across a neck, it drives him a little crazy (especially where the star is on his throat)

gets heated and heavy-lidded very fast; he might try to ride your thigh if this keeps up

thoma

ironically, this is also his favorite place to be kissed

loves being kissed there, but he prefers it to be very gentle; he likes it to be slow, sensual kisses, the kind that make him sigh, eyes fluttering closed, with his head naturally falling back to invite more of your touch

the problem is actually getting marked

he doesn’t mind it, normally, but as someone with a reputation to keep, it can be a struggle to keep hidden

especially since his throat is pretty exposed most of the time, anyway

so he’ll probably tell you to not leave any bruises, but the rest of his body is more than welcome to you

even when he doesn’t have to worry about someone seeing him with the marks, he has a hard time fully enjoying it given he will just always have this habitual anxiety about his reputation

but if you know just how to make those soft, fleeting marks that fade not too long after, you are more than welcome to lather him with it

loves being kissed there, but besides the reputation conflict, he’s pretty neutral to markings

if you like it, then he’ll like it

but if anyone points it out, like ayaka, he’s going to be more than embarrassed, he’s going to be a stammering mess

would prefer to just be kissed or nipped on his throat instead of marked

⸸ I am Here - Part One ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I made as many Abnormalities into male humanoids as possible. A lot of OOC and fanon are to be expected.)

Pairing: [Insert] x Nothing There

Warning: body horror, gore, and maybe an excessive use of human anatomical words

Description: When it first came to the facility, it looked just like an ordinary dog, much like Ppodae, so they classified it as TETH. But then, the first Agent fatality to it happened, and suddenly, it began to look more...humanoid in its body parts. Now identified as an ALEPH, the Manager now only sends the best, but not too valuable Agents to its containment unit. You were one of them.

Word Count: <2000

Inspired by the horror movie, 'The Thing', and a certain Anon's request.

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

When it first came into the facility, it had taken the form of a beautiful, Norwegian husky.

Everyone had assumed the new Abnormality was going to be like Ppodae. Adorable, seemingly harmless, but actually capable of causing serious damage.

But then, the first Agent working on it died.

John, who was the Agent sent to work on O-06-20 thereafter, witnessed and reported what the Abnormality did to its victims. The 'husky' was gnawing on the arm of the deceased, and not long after, a human arm sprouted from its head.

The Abnormality's classification was changed from TETH to ALEPH.

Agent [Name] feared working on the new Abnormality. After all, there was hardly anything known about it. No one knew why its Qlipoth dropped. The Agent's stats weren't exactly low, but it was understandably too low for an ALEPH.

In [Name]'s recent skills test, they passed the highest in Fortitude and Suppression, but their results for Temperament and Prudence were awful.

Overall, it wasn't...bad, but...they just hoped it wasn't Attachment work they will be sent to do for this creature.

But of course, it ended up being anything but what they hoped for.

When [Name] first saw O-06-20, it looked anything but what they expected it to based on previous work logs. The only semblance it had to a dog was the way it stood quadrupedally. But other than that, it looked nothing like a canine.

To put it simply, this creature shouldn't exist. Yet here it was, a grotesque patchwork of human body parts. Its mere existence made them want to gag.

The Thing tilted its...'head'...curiously. Its human tongue lolling out of its very human mouth like a dog. It even breathed like one.

Though it had not done anything threatening, [Name] was already terrified. Unlike their experience with other Abnormalities, they were able to maintain their resolve because they saw it for what it truly was. Meanwhile, this creature only showed what became of its victims. Simply put, no one knows what this thing truly looks like.

And they were supposed to befriend this thing?

Against their survival instincts, they kneeled on one leg.

"Hey there..." They looked at the 'dog,' wondering what it would prefer to be called. "...boy?"

They had already been expecting the worse to happen, but to their surprise, the dog thing barked. Or at least, the closest a human throat could produce the sound.

It ran across the room to leap at them before standing on its hind legs to lick their hands, arm, neck, and whatever it could reach.

They weren't going to lie, it was a very cute gesture, but it was easily ruined when they realized it was a human tongue licking them.

Keep calm, keep calm, they thought as they continued petting its 'head'. But since it had skin instead of fur, it was more like a forehead massage.

At least this Abnormality is like a dog...it should be easy enough to befriend, right?

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

Next time they were called to work on O-06-20, [Name] thought it would be good to play fetch with the Abnormality. Of course, it wasn't like they had any wooden sticks lying around, so they had to make do with the facility's equipment; ballpens, pencils, plastic spoons, whatever they could collect a lot of.

And they were right. The Thing really enjoyed playing fetch. It had been wagging an intestine around—probably its 'tail'—non-stop ever since they entered the containment unit.

Soon enough, this became something of a routine for them. A fun little game that O-06-20 only got to play with the Agent. But it was pretty evident that the Thing had other interests. One day, it saw its reflection on a metal spoon and it stared.

It was...unnerving. For a moment, [Name] thought it was going to deprive itself of air since she stopped hearing it panting. It even pulled its tongue back into its mouth. Its face never looked so human until now.

"Buddy?"

The Agent walked towards the Abnormality. It was odd. They felt concerned, an emotion they never thought they would feel for an animalistic abomination.

O-06-20 began to whine, and it made [Name]'s heart crack. It really did sound like a puppy. They couldn't help but sit down beside their little buddy and pet it. Disgusting as it was, they couldn't ignore its pained cries.

For the first time, [Name] pulled the creature to lay its head on their lap. They didn't stop petting it until its crying stopped.

If this was all they had to do to keep O-06-20 happy, then they were more than happy with this arrangement. With time, they would get used to its appearance. They just need to keep thinking of it as a dog. An ugly, malformed, dangerous dog, but a cute one.

Of course, if containing an ALEPH-class was as easy as running a dog shelter, Lobotomy Corporation wouldn't have such a high death rate, wouldn't it?

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

Just the day after that, Agent [Name] was called to work on O-06-20 once again. It seemed like they became someone important when it came to handling the Abnormality.

But after that moment they had together, when they spent nearly an hour just sitting there on the ground, the thing calming down on their lap as they massaged its head, a...protective feeling of sorts began to sprout within them.

They didn't realize it was there until they realized how much they wanted to return to their little buddy's containment unit.

Is it still alright? Why did it suddenly cry like that, I wonder...did it hate how it looked?

Because of this new development in their relationship with the Abnormality, they were now skipping down the hallways. This was like having a pet. A disgusting and horrifying-looking one, but at least it genuinely bonded with people...unlike Ppodae.

Wait, O-06-20 is everything that Ppodae isn't.

That thought made them smile. They really didn't like that dog.

But their moment of happiness was short-lived. Because the moment the doors to O-06-20's containment unit opened, the first thing they saw was the color red.

The floors and walls had been painted into a grotesque artwork of blood. Shredded skin and clumps of hair was strewn about the unit like clothes in a changing room. It was as if the person that was once inside of them tore itself apart out of out frustration.

Their throat stung from the vomit, but [Name] swallowed it down.

It's fine. Everything is just fine. Haven't I seen plenty of this already? This is an ALEPH-class Abnormality, so of course this was inevitable.

But even knowing that, their legs still felt wobbly. Walking never became so terrifying...especially since tripping would mean falling into this bloodbath.

Amidst all of this, [Name] still had a job to do. Even though the smell burnt their throat, even though the tears in their eyes were becoming difficult to hold back, they must look for the Abnormality.

This could only mean two things. Either the creature wasn't here anymore, and people are already dying without much to their oblivion. Or...it is still here.

But why couldn't they see the little guy?

C r o a k .

[Name] snapped their attention to the pile of mangled flesh and torn bodies. What the hell was that?

C r o a k . . .

They nearly tripped as they clamored away from the mound. The Thing was there...but it no longer looked like their little buddy.

When a man emerged from the pile, [Name] should have felt relieved to see that someone survived. But there was just something unnaturally wrong to his movement.

For one thing, one of his feet was facing the wrong direction...yet he continued to walk as if he couldn't feel it. Now that they thought about it, they had seen the Abnormality break its bones countless times before, yet they didn't seem to react. So, was that popping from its fractured bones?

The 'Man' snapped towards them, as in literally snapped their neck just to look at them. Because of that reckless action, their neck was now bent at a painfully sharp angle, yet it didn't cease moving.

Their mind tried to recall everything they have ever read about the Abnormality. It used to look like a husky, but after the first Agent death within its containment, it suddenly grew an arm...Does this thing..?

Horrified by the revelation, the Agent looked at the door from the corner of their eye. Closed.

Damn it, they really won't let me leave until I finish what I came here for!

With every bit of courage they could muster, they faced their little buddy head on. It wasn't so little anymore...and it was undeniably more human looking now...but if it retained its doggy behavior even after it grew an arm, it should remember them...right?

It was now just a few feet from them. They wanted to run away from it, wanted to stay as far away as possible from 'him'. But that would be pointless. No matter what, they would be trapped here unless the Manager lets them go.

The 'Man' was now standing in front of him.

The Agent gulped. This close to him, they could see their bloodshot eyes, the fractured bone beneath the skin of their neck, and how deathly pale they were.

Because he is dead, they corrected themselves. And the thing simply wore their body.

They couldn't tell how it was feeling. Was he seeing them as a friend or foe? Do they even recognize me still? How much of my little buddy changed?

Are they still there?

"Hi there." They forced the corner of their lips to pull up. "Did you miss me...Buddy?"

As if recognizing the name, his eyes widened. Was he surprised that I still recognized him? they wondered.

They chuckled, but it was more of a nervous laugh. "Uhm...I see that you did a little wardrobe change here. But isn't this a little too...much?"

It was a pitiful attempt at humor. If the Abnormality was still just as smart as a dog, then it shouldn't be able to read their body language well. Otherwise, it would know just how terrified they were.

Would it kill me if I run away from it?

To counter their nervousness, they reached a hand towards the 'Man'. They had always touched the Abnormality as the dog creature, but in this form?

Changing their mind, they pulled back their hand when suddenly, he grabbed their wrist.

Whether they were doing it purposefully or not, his nails dug painfully into their flesh. He was holding onto it so firmly that it hurt just to move their arm.

The Agent closed their eyes, allowing the tears fall. They were going to die now, they were certain of it. Soon as they saw the mound of meat, their likelihood of survival had plummeted, and now, they were going to be the Abnormality's next outfit, food, or whatever it was the thing did to its kills.

The only thing they could wish for now was a quick, painless death. But—

Their eyes snapped open at the sensation of cracked lips touching their wrist. The 'Man' brought their hands close to them...so it could lick them.

Disgusted, they jumped up from the red trail their bloody tongue left behind, but as soon as his pale eyes met theirs, they froze.

The 'Man' then pulled them closer to him. They let him do it. What else could they do, really? They were too stunned, too frightened, too confused to understand him. And if they didn't understand him, how would they be able to suppress this situation?

Fortunately however, he only did it to continue what he was doing on the crook of their neck before nuzzling his way to their cheeks.

Although the tongue felt different...the gesture was familiar.

Ah...oh, god.

The realization crashed on them like a tidal wave.

Their little buddy didn't know how to act like a human.

~~~~~ End ~~~~~

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I was supposed to write headcanons for Nothing There, but in the midst of my imaginations, I ended up being inspired to write a three-act tragedy about an Abnormality trying to be someone its Darling could love.

There is nothing overtly yandere about this yet, but that's because I'm not finished with Nothing There, quite yet.

Anyway, love, I thank you for reading this~

(If you are curious for more, Part II is out!)

Xiao's Mommy God (2)

Xiao x God!Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Mommy Kink, Lactation, Bottom!Reader, Top!Xiao, Smut, Inappropriate use of anemo vision, Manhandling.

Summary: This is an alternative version of Xiao's Mommy God, where instead of the reader being the dom, Xiao will be the one on top. But I suggest you read the original first, because of important story explaination.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Xiao! I'm so sorry! I thought you were an intruder." You were by his side immediately, worried that you may have hurt him, yet when you tried to coddle him, he just pushed you away, holding onto his neck as he breaths heavily. "Xiao?"

The Yaksha stays silent for a couple of seconds, still breathing heavily as he avoids your lingering gaze. "Did I hurt you?" You asked quietly as you sat on the floor, placing yourself in front of him.

The boy shook his head, still refusing to look at you. You felt unconvinced, maybe you choked him to hard and he's holding back on vomiting, that's why he won't open his mouth.

You call for him once again, and finally his golden orbs look up at you, filled with an emotion that you don't seem to fully understand. You reach your hand out, cupping his cheek and caressing it with your thumb.

"You can tell me anything, Xiao? I just wanna know if you're okay." You then plastered a small, but genuine smile on your face, looking at your student fondly.

Xiao can't take it anymore, with your constant worries about him, babying him, saying you love him, but keeping him at arm's length. He just needed to knock some sense into you, make you realize that he's older now, and that what he feels for you, isn't just a mere adoration for a God.

The cat-eyed boy grabbed both of your wrists firmly, taking you by surprise. He then yanked your hand away from his face, getting up from his position on the ground. Binding your two wrist with his one hand, he pushes them to your chest, wrapping his now free hand around you waist.

"Xiao?" You called out questioningly, but all you got from the boy was a growl, his face inching closer to yours. Your back hits the side of your bed as he pushed you with your bind hands. You felt the chill air blow stronger, somehow feeling a light stimulation on your chest area. You felt dizzy, confused, speechless from what was happening right now, as your dearest Adeptus face looks at you with dissatisfaction.

"Y/N..." He finally said something, despite his serious expression, you hear the softness of his voice, so you assume that he just had a strange episode and tried to take your wrists apart from his binding hand.

You realized that you were very wrong when he growled at you again, tightening his hold that it starts to hurt. You called out to him once again, feeling a bit worried about his strange behavior.

"I'm not a child anymore." He stated, intently looking at your face, studying your expressions. You yelped as he tighten his hold on your body, before fully standing up, carrying you with one arm around your waist. Scared of falling down, you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning into him as he let go of your wrists to hold your figure even tighter.

You place your hands on his shoulder, steadying yourself. And then you felt it, Xiao had started to rut against your clothed center, you instantly feel a growing, rock hard bulge poking your pussy.

Your eyes widen in realization, looking at the younger boy currently carrying you right now. His eyes were closed, mouth agape, seems like he was enjoying what he was doing with you.

"I d-didn't think of you as a child, Xiao." You stuttered, ignoring the growing heat within your stomach. He slowly opens his eyes, looking at you fondly. And before you know it, your back is on the bed again, only this time, the Yaksha was right on top of you, looking at you with need.

"I liked it when you choked me." Xiao stated breathlessly, grabbing one of your hands before bringing it closer to his neck. You wrap your hand around his neck softly, but never daring to squeeze. "It doesn't hurt." It was like an encouragement for you to do it again, so you did, you squeezed his neck lightly, making him smile.

In one foul swoop, he just cuts through the center of your night dress. "Xiao!" But he pays you no mind, taking off the fabric. You're now left with just your undergarments.

Xiao placed his hands onto your stomach, channelling his anemo control and in an instant, both your bra and panties glow a mint green light before disappearing into nothingness.

And now, your fully naked, right in front of your little Adeptus. You felt like covering your boobies but he clasps his hands onto them before you could do anything.

"I've always wanted to taste these, mommy." Xiao squeezed your boobs, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs, it all made you gasp, your hands finding their way onto his wrists.

Mommy? You liked that.

He then let go of one of your breast, replacing his hand with his mouth. The Yaksha's lips wrapped around your hardened nipple, sucking so intently that you let out a strained moan. His now free hand started going down, onto your little pussy.

With his fingers grazing your clit, before going to your hole, you just realized how wet you are, feeling hot liquid slowly pour out of your cunt.

"Xiao, please." You let out a little whimpers, jumping even more as he shoved two of his gloved fingers inside you immediately, loving the way you yelped and moaned out his name as he starts to rub the inside of your pussy with his fingers. You don't know why, but it seems as though his gloves makes it even more hotter for you.

It was his turn to be surprised however, when he tasted a sweet liquid pour onto his mouth. Xiao pulled away in shock, looking at the boob he was sucking and seeing that milk had started to leak from your mounds.

He looks up at you and you look away in embarrassment, you just lactated. You didn't even know you could do that!

But he swallowed the milk in his mouth, smiling whilst looking at your embarrassed face. "Mommy's milk taste so good." He teased as he went back in to drink more.

"You... Y-you can have it anytime you want." Right as you said that, he plunged another finger inside you, using his palm to rub you clit. He suddenly went at a very fast pace, making you scream as you rut your own hips against his hand.

"Ahhh, Xiao!" You screamed as you felt both his sucking and fingering get more intense, his palm pressing harder against your clit as he sucks hard on you nipple. And with that, you came right of his fingers. "Th-thank you." You breathe out, the feeling of your hot fluids seeping out as he takes out his fingers.

Xiao shows you his now ruined gloves, "You really liked that, huh?" You nodded eagerly, despite being an immortal Goddess, you lack experience in this type of things, but it's still surprising that Xiao just knows what to do to pleasure your body. He takes off both his gloves, throwing them wherever before cupping your cheeks.

You loved the feeling of his bare skin against your own. "X-Xiao... I love you." You finally say it, tugging at his shirt to invite him closer to your face.

"I love you too." Sealing you lips with a quick sweet kiss, you were about to close your eyes, when you feel his breath on your ear.

"We're not done yet, mommy."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You felt like your body was no longer in your control as Xiao, who had stripped himself naked, pushed your legs onto your chest, lining his rock hard cock with your now sopping hole. Your whines as he takes full control of your movements fall on deaf ears.

In his eyes, you're an all powerful Goddess, someone who emerged out of the Archon War barely wounded. And with that in mind, it probably wouldn't hurt to just plunge his cock into your inexperienced pussy with ease.

"AHHH!" You screamed as he rammed inside you with no warning, immediately setting his thrusts at a fast pace, not giving you a chance to adjust.

Xiao groaned as he abused your pussy with merciless pounds, hands landing on your thighs to grope and spread you apart, feeling even more accomplished to see his cock disappear into your cunt over and over again. Your moans encourages him to keep going, getting addicted to the feeling of your pussy walls rubbing against his hard rod.

Your legs feel tired without him keeping it close to your chest, slowly trying going back to their place. But he growled when your ankles got in the way of his perfect view on your abused cunt, wrapping his hands under your knees, pushing it back so close to your upper body that you start to actually feel sore.

The Yaksha's ruts started to get more feral, going so fast and deep inside you, pulling out until only the tip is in, just to plunge back inside to hit your womb. It all made you moan in delight.

"X-Xiao! Breed me, please!" Your strained moans fill the room, feeling his grip on your legs get tighter, thrust sloppier, and you know exactly that he's about to cum.

"B-breed?" The cat-eyed boy repeated in confusion, but hearing you say that you want him to breed you, it made him want to do all this to you over and over again, ram his cock into your cunt every chance he can.

You felt the knot in your stomach snap, cumming from his ruts. At the same time, you feel the flow of hot liquid pour inside you, Xiao's thrust coming to a full stop, wanting to pump you full in the deepest part of your pussy that he can.

He released your legs from his harsh grip, letting them fall into place around his waist. The blissful look on your face made the boy proud, it seems you enjoyed his service.

Xiao slowly pulls out, cock somehow still semi-hard despite the exhausting fucking session.

He looks at you first, your face looking up at him with a small smile, "I'm so..." You yawned, "...Tired." You finished, as the boy's lips slightly curl up whilst looking at your droopy, tired eyes.

He looked down onto your swollen pussy, and his smile fades. Hot liquid, his cum inside you started dripping out, he does not like that one bit.

How is he supposed to breed you if his cum keeps dripping out?

And you were about to drift off to sleep when he suddenly just flipped you over, grabbing your hips and hoisting it up. The Yaksha positioned himself behind you, his cock once again rock hard, and the base is currently rubbing again your clit.

"Xiaooo, I'm tiredddd." You whined, voice also getting droopy from the tiredness. He pressed his cock harder against you, making you moan.

"I just need to breed you, till you're full of my cum, mommy~" He shoves his cock into your pussy once again. "Then you can rest."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Requested by: @peachykindalovesyou

The Advisor, The King, and The Knight

(Alternatively,,, POV: you're celestia)

Bonus: stills images

KAZUHA’S KINKTOBER — OVERSTIM!

TAGS/CONTENT WARNINGS ♡ squirting, dumbification, petnames (baby), dubcon, slight praise ; fem! reader ; minors do not interact.

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kazuha have always think you were too dumb for your own good.

too pliant, too dumb— even right now, when he have you pinned on the ground, your legs loosely wrapping around his hips. fervent breathing fanning against his ears, tickling the side of his face with warm air. you’re still murmuring that same nonsense to him.

“kazuha, can’t no more, s'hurt so b-bad..”

you can’t never have some sense inside of that empty mind of yours, can you? smaller fist than his being put up to his chest, a futile attempt to pushed him away. you can’t feel your bones, weak and limp the moment kazuha pinned it back to the top of your head. maybe you shouldn’t drink so much earlier, but knowing you, you could never turn down kazuha offers.

you never could, even if the pressure makes your head dizzy, your chest tighten, feeling inclined to agree. you never could, and kazuha expect nothing from you. after all, you could never function without having guidance from him. you don’t know any better for yourself, he says— pushing your knees up to your chest and letting his spit fall to your bare cunt, quickly swoop up by the tip of his cock into your entrance. the small huffed puffing your cheeks when he entered inch by inch, groping your tits into his rough palm with shaky breathe.

“make it quick, please? c-can’t cum no more after this,”

that’s what you said earlier too, when he have you bend over while he fucked you from behind, when he have you squirting all over the bed, gripping the sheet to ease the incoming pain from his cock rubbing inside of your sensitive walls. and yet, you’re still drooling on his cock, sobbing from how big he is and how he felt good inside, stuffing you to the brim with cum.

“can my princess take one more? of course, she can. look at this, sucking me in with no shame. you were kidding when you say you have enough, right?”

kazuha know you better than yourself. always have and always will.