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thetempleofhades · 7 months

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favorites pt2

this is mostly self indulgent. just fontaine being my favorite. this is an alternate version with imposter au creator! reader.

Maybe it was childish in the eyes of others that you preferred Fontaine over every other nation. You had been ridiculed and branded as an imposter in Mondstadt, you had been nearly killed in Liyue, had been nearly killed again in Inazuma, you didn't neven want to talk about Sumeru.

You didn't want to even think about the Fatui or their reigning Archon, The Tsaritsa. Fontaine had been the first place that you ran to that didn't try to kill you or accuse you of a heinous crime. You had nearly broken down crying at the realization that the residents of Fontaine weren't going to hurt you.

You looked out at the rain, watching it fall with trembling hands as you sat at a table, having tea with Furina and Neuvillette.

"....Your Grace?" Neuvillette called your attention softly, staring at you with a concerned look as he took notice of your trembling hands. "Are you alright?"

It was overwhelming. This was the first time you'd been asked if you were okay since the moment you arrived in Teyvat. It was.... strange. In a horrible way, running and avoiding death was something you got used to. you used to hide in caves and amongst the hilichurls for a moments of respite and look at your scars.

Your shaken eyes stared down at your scarred hands, "Um... Yes... I'm fine." It sounded like a lie from your lips. You weren't fine. Fontaine had refused to hunt you down, and the moment you entered it's borders, Fontaine protected you. Furina, Clorinde, and Neuvillette protected you and comforted you. Why was Fontaine the first to protect you? Were people truly that cruel?

Furina's eyes noticed your shaken state and she exchanged a look with Neuvillette. "Your Grace, please try the cake! It's of highest quality, as is everything and everyone that graces my table." Smugness radiated from her as she pushed the piece of cake towards you, eager to get you to eat something, anything.

You looked up towards her as her presence calmed you down from your anxiety. Your shaky hand reached for the fork. "Is it really okay for me to be here, won't it cause problems with the other nations?"

"Forget about those guys! Those Archons have rotting brains and feeble bodies. They should have just turned to dust instead." Furina scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "I don't really care about them, Fontaine welcomes you and we'll protect our beloved creator." She smiled at her and you relaxed slowly as you looked down at your cake before taking a bite.

"...!" Your eyes widened as you stared down at the slice of cake. "....It's good." You commented quietly, not noticing the pleased look on both Neuvillette and Furina's face.

"Everyone here treasures you, Your Grace. You don't have to worry about anything and everyone who has hurt you will never be able to come here so easily. Rest easy and enjoy all the things we have to offer you." Neuvillette's voice was soothing as you found yourself nodding.

Yes.... you did like Fontaine.... You liked being in Fontaine...

Okay, you liked slightly less now that you were in an actual prison.

"Why are going to a prison?" You asked Neuvillette, nervous as you shifted in the lift you were in. You tugged your jacket closer to your frame as you looked up at the man who had been by your side since you had arrived in Fontaine. "I'm... not being arrested, right?"

"No, of course not, Your Grace. You haven't done anything wrong in the slightest. This is the Fortress of Meropide. The administrator of this place, Wriothesley is a personal friend. I thought you should be introduced to him as well as you have decided to reside in Fontaine for now.

Before you could respond, the lift opened and you really weren't sure how to feel about this place.

You shyly waved to those who you past. They were all staring at you, it was a little unnerving but it didn't feel like they disliked you.

You currently found yourself in an office as said man, (Wriothesley was what Neuvillette called him) poured you tea. "It's chamomile tea, Your Grace. You seem a little nervous." The man smiled at you which only made a blush of embarrassment appear on your cheeks.

You wondered if anyone was ever disappointed when they learnt that you were the Creator of this world, you didn't fit the title of All Powerful. Your time being hunted had made you skittish and paranoid.

You looked to the side as Sigewinne, the Melusine that Neuvillette told you about entered and your hear jumped. You had always been fond of cute things and Sigewinne was cute, you had always been fond of children.

"Hello, Your Grace!" She smiled at you happily and you swore you could cry. She was so cute....

You quickly averted your eyes, to try and keep your composure, to not seem strange, "Um, hello to you too." You greeted her, the shyness leaving you as a soft smile curled at you lips.

You kept the steaming cup in hand, not yet drinking it.

"Their Grace has decided to reside in Fontaine for the moment as we sort out the issue with the other Archons." Neuvillette quietly informed Wriothesley while you were enamored with Sigewinne and talking to her quietly. "It will most likely be a drawn out affair. The other Archons will likely not admit their wrong doings." Neuvillette frowned, which was mimicked by Wriothesley.

You were oblivious to their conversation as you talked quietly to Sigewinne about the sights you had seen so far. "Neuvillette and Furina have been making sure my meals are good enough."

"I'll write out a detailed meal plan so you can recover quickly!" Sigewinne seemed happy to be able to do something for you and you couldn't refuse her after seeing her excitement.

Your eyes softened as you smiled. "I'll make sure to follow it fully."

Yeah... Fontaine was great.... You didn't mind staying her for a while...

#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau cult au #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #sagau impostor au #sagau wriothesley #sagau neuvillette #sagau furina #sagau sigewinne

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eluxcastar · 2 months

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Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat.

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it.

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

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anantaru · 1 year

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𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

୨୧ sugar daddy headcanons feat. pantalone : dottore : childe : diluc : ayato x fem! reader

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw : spoiling you rotten

𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

expensive jewelry, pricy clothes and lavish dinners were the only commodities pantalone could provide to you, with his emotions and true feelings being kept hidden and locked up at all times.

he didn't deem it necessary to show you any emotional affection, no words of encouragement or actual real conversations between the both of you were the norm. He only needed to make sure you would be available anytime he wanted you, craved you, aside from looking all glammed up and pretty for him, so he could truly relax underneath your warm embrace after a long day of work.

you were restless, bouncing on his cock in a steady rhythm as he helped you with his hands, having them digging into your skin and brand your hips, showing you further that you were his. Pantalone took in the beautiful sight in front of him, how you caressed his chest, teasing him, or how you rolled yourself into him, the fullness taking control of your body as you cried out his name with your mouth hanging low.

pantalone‘s jaw was tightening, thrusting up into the familiar warmth he so very much yearned for as his back slightly arched into you, tossing his head back into the soft pillows with his hair being unruly, disheveled. He adored the show you always put on for him, treasured it, how you were there for him, more so patient with him. In the end, he wasn't sure it it was the money that made you stay, or if something deep down inside of you actually cared.

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄

dottore was simply looking for someone who could satisfy his sexual desires, calm his frustrations and someone who'd be available to him as many times as he needed you.

he didn't actually want to form a bond with you, in his eyes it was annoying and unnecessary, as well as bothersome in the long run. Even though he didn't flaunt his money, it was clear he had enough, he barely used it on himself other than for his own experiments. Regardless of it all, he'd hire someone to buy you whatever you needed, longed for, having someone who'd be at your disposal when he was occupied in his work.

intimacy mostly included quckies or you giving him head while he was resting from work, dottore always put his own pleasure first, he didn‘t know it any better, nevertheless, sometimes if he was in an extra good mood he'd make sure to spoil you with his pseudo like affection and love he held towards your person.

nevertheless, right now he was sitting in his leather chair with you nestled in between his legs, the view oh so familiar to him. You proceeded to soothe your fingers over his thighs, unbuckling his belt before taking his stiff cock in your hand with your other one going down to fondle with his balls, gently tugging on them while also making sure to be careful. You knew what he liked, needed and expected, using enough spit to on his tip before spreading it around his shaft.

from the looks of it, dottore seemed more tired than usual, frustrated as he continued to chew on his lower lip yet refusing to break eye contact off with you, groaning deeply into his chest as you took him in fully, bobbing your head up and down with muffled sounds flying over his ears.

you licked the head, sliding your lips down along his shaft, carefully, as you flattened your tongue on him, dragging your wet muscle over his pulsating vein which was located around the lower side of his cock. Dottore hid his moans with the back of his hand, watching you intently, as if you were an experiment on your own, not daring to look away once, his empty gaze shifting momentarily, from your lips to your teary eyes.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

ajax was all here for making you feel good and comfortable, providing you with gifts and expensive jewelry which sometimes originated from different nations he so happened to have visited once.

he trusts you 100% with his money and doesn't care if you're spending it on yourself, he knew it's for you so there wasn’t an issue. Ajax was unavailable most of the times due to his work, which he will explain to you in hand written letters with some money prepared for you. Once he actually gets home all worn out, tired with his eyes hanging low, you'll always make it your duty to get him to relax and unravel.

it's all about spoiling each other, focusing on what you craved from your bodies, desired to see. Your lips were placing loving pecks on his neck, collarbone and his chest, flattening your tongue to lick all the way back up, ending it with a seductive kiss on his plump lips.

childe was smirking into the kiss, proceeding to take sharp intakes of breath which showed you how excited he was right now, wrapping his arm around your waist to take control of the situation and pushing you against the mattress so he'd hover over you now. His hands glossed over your warm skin, your chest heaving in anticipation with your breasts pushed against his chest.

"i hope you didn't have too much fun without me?" he teased, kissing your lips before lightly biting down on your lower lip, pulling away and looking at you with a loving expression. "never." you cooed, cupping his cheeks with your thumbs brushing over his silky skin— if only he knew you missed him immensly, "i hope you like the new pair of lingerie i bought, if you even noticed it in the first place."

it was a habit of yours, buying sexy underwear to greet him with whenever he got back from a trip as you pointed your finger towards the floor where childe had already thrown your clothes after ripping them off your body. "oops, it got torn apart, lets buy a new pair tomorrow." he whispered before hooking his hands under your knees, pushing his body deeper against your own as he finally slid himself in, your walls engulfing him fully and throbbing on his shaft, his lust filled eyes never leaving the sight of your cunt getting split open by his cock.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

in diluc's eyes, it was only natural and typical to spoil your s/o to death. Most of the times he wasn't sure what would fit you the best so he'd always end up buying the same thing, just slightly different, many more times so you could properly choose from a wide range of clothing or other necessities.

it was adorable in your eyes, cute even, he always gave it his all to show you affection in those ways with you appreciating it fully. When it comes to emotional affection he'd need a bit more time before being fully capable to open up to you. All things considered, when he opens the door to his home with you being here, dressed in something he had gifted you, his thoughts would turn to dust, nothing, thinking of nothing more than you.

diluc would lose the track of time, bringing you over the edge multiple times without giving your body a minute to rest. His head was buried in between your legs, licking and sucking on your folds without a single care in the world. Your thighs burned, your muscles tightening up around his head when you dug your hand into his unruly red hair, practically riding his face now.

diluc lapped around your clit, worshipping you with his eyes never leaving your body. His erected cock was straining against his pants, hard and stiff waiting to be freed yet he ignored the uncomfortable feeling, continuing to eat you out as he put your pleasure before his own. He could carry on with it all night, his hums tender on your skin as unashamed moans left his lips, the new dress you wore for him already forgotten.

𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

ayato will basically approve of everything you buy, whether its pricey purses, expensive dresses or another pair of shoes that— if you were being honest, were way too costly.

he‘s going to observe your body decorated with the new purchases, deeply hum into his chest as he tells you to turn around so he could take it in from all angles. But don't be fooled, ayato will make sure to buy you something himself as well, something that clearly showed you were his, already claimed, taken with no one having the chance to take you away.

you were eagerly waiting for his return, eyeing him as he walked past the door with a little something in his hand. You weren't able to look at it in a better angle before he stood in front of you and there it was: a sparkling choker with a beautiful gem ornamented on it, encircled with plenty of smaller stones around the bigger one.

your mouth fell open, eyes turning wide as you looked at him in disbelief. "i knew you'd like it." he responded calmly, ayato's lips curved up in a smirk as he motioned you to turn around, placing the otherworldly beautiful necklace around your neck, your hand reaching over to feel it on your own skin.

from this day forward, ayato ought you to wear his little gift all the time, most importantly, when the both of you were intimate with each other. There was just something incredibly erotic about having his necklace around your neck, the way it'll dangle around whenever he'd rut into your cunt, as if he was choking you with his hands.

you were squeezing his shaft, your swollen cunt sobbing and spasming as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, caging you in with his arms. Ayato will always creep his fingers over your chest, fondling with your erected nipples before twirling them in between his digits, the mess in between your legs undeniably filthy, lewd, reminding ayato of the utter devotion you shared for him.

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

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senualothbrok · 8 days

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Tim Downie kindly did a reading of Gale and Mia's wedding vows from Chapter 12 of The Difference 🥹

My heart 😭 The way Tim puts his heart and soul into every word, and how lovely he is about it. This man is truly a national treasure.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. ❤️

As long as the stars shine in the sky, I will love you.

My love will forever be as bright and constant, burning through the darkness of the night.

And as the stars chart the course of our steps, blazing more brilliantly than anything I could ever dare to dream,

So too will our love be the fixed star that always guides me back to you.

I see you as you are, and will never find you wanting.

Never again will you be cold, for I will be your warmth.

Never again will you be lost, for I will be your home.

Never again will you walk alone, for I will be your hand to hold.

We are two souls, but now our lives are one.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale fic #gale fanfiction #bg3 gale fic #bg3 gale fanfiction #tim downie #tim downie cameo #the difference #gale x oc #gale x tav #bg3 #gale romance #bg3 gale romance

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i-write-things · 3 months

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Cuddle Spider

(Yan! Chrollo x Willing! Reader)

It is in human nature to seek warmth. Achieving homeostasis is a characteristic of all living things. When we are cold, we seek warmth, be it physically or emotionally.

Imagine being freezing outside, and right next to you is a fire. But you are not allowed to cuddle up to said fire. You can only admire. A mysterious force is holding you back from gratifying yourself with such a comfort.

That is you right now. You are the one freezing. The cold is a combination of it being winter, and the AC running too much for your liking. Even as you sit on the edge of the bed you feel no warmth. The fire is the very man sitting across from you in a chair, reading and unbothered by the temperatures. And the mysterious force is your conscious.

A part of you wants to cuddle up to him. You're well aware he would be willing to do so. He's not doing a hefty task currently. Even if he only wanted to continue reading, who could hold you and read. His heat would be certainly welcome. Not to mention, the feeling of safety that comes with being wrapped up in his arms.

However, you feel- no, you know this is wrong. This man, though charismatic, intelligent, and thoughtful in his own unique way, is a monster. He took you. Without your consent, he scooped you up and away. And while you no longer have to worry about taxes, morons for customers and coworkers, and feeling touch starved, it doesn't change the fact he is not a good person. He steals things that are considered to be national treasures for the sake of, not even riches nor status, but rather for the thrill of the swiping. And also for a second reason you couldn't quite decipher, though you have your interpretations as to what he meant.

Still. That wasn't even the worst of it. As you look at him now- his raven colored hair hanging over his forehead, covering up that mysterious tattoo and just barely dangling over his eyes. Enigmatic, deep stone colored eyes that carefully scan over the contents of the page that tells a tale of who knows what.- he acts so calm. He is calm, really. But how? After all he's done, the stealing of precious valuables, stealing of people, the mass murderings...You just can't seem to wrap around your head how he can sit here, so relaxed and at ease, all whilst knowing the atrocities he's committed.

And yet, despite this, you still feel that compelling urge to crawl into his lap. To get him to lay down on the bed you now share, and lay down on his chest, his muscular arms creating a safe haven for you. Is it real love you experience, or is it the succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome? The latter being the most likely choice in this scenario. You've been kept here for what you estimate to be about 9 or 10 months. Truthfully, you have no real idea, but this is simply your best guess, judging by the weather and seasons. Though, it feels more like a year or 2 than anything.

Stockholm Syndrome was doing funny things to you. It made you crave the touch of a man you should despise with all your might. You continue to stare and think deeper and deeper about this. Truly, you where the beauty and he was the beast. Although he was an alternate, more backwards version. He started off as the handsome prince, then revealed himself to be a beast.

You and Chrollo. Beauty and the best. You chuckle at the thought. A grave mistake to make while staring at the chap. His observant eyes picked up to you, and a small, amused smirk sneaks onto his face as well.

"What's so funny?" He asked charmingly, as if you had just giggled at a joke he made.

"I-Its...nothin'. Just um...just a dumb thought I had."

"Care to share?"

"As I said, it's pretty dumb. it wasn't even all that funny, really."

"Then what's holding you back from telling me. You seemed as carefree as the wind when you where staring at me a couple of moments ago." His mouth transformed from an amused smirk, to a smug grin. Jerk. Doesn't he know how pretty he looks when he does that? He probably does.

"I-..." Your words die on your tongue and go back down your throat. Of course he knew you where looking. He's Chrollo fucking Lucilfer, of all people.

You have a couple of options. You can compliment him. Distract his thoughts, but you know from experience he will take it, and not give you your reward of changing the subject. You could insult him. But...something tells you not to, and it isn't fear. Just a feeling that you don't want to. You could flip the tables, and ask him what he thinks it is, but he would turn it once more and back to you. He was crafty with his words like that. Lying would be fruitless, as he would know immediately. He knows all your ticks and give aways. Your only option is the truth, and hope he doesn't feel insulted.

"I was just thinking...this whole...thing. It reminds me of beauty and the beast."

"Assuming I'm the beast?" He raises an eyebrow. "and what whole thing are you referring to?"

"I just- Well, um. Okay, yes. in this situation, you are the beast. Or at least, a reverse version. You used to be the handsome prince, and now you're the beast. And the thing I was referring to is...y'know, the not letting me go, thing."

"Hm..." He watches you for a moment with those predatory eyes before speaking. "You thought I was the handsome prince. Though I have revealed my true colors, my looks haven't changed."

Jerk. Handsome jerk.

"Well, yes," You sigh, knowing exactly what he was suggesting. And, it was true. "You're looks haven't changed and...you maybe still are um...y'know. But that doesn't take away from the fact you're a beast."

"I'll take that as a compliment. The beast did anything he could for Belle, if I'm not mistaken. And she did fall for him at some point as well. Are you sure you're still Belle and I'm the beast in this whole 'thing', as you put it?"

"It's only Stockholm Syndrome." You scoff playfully, not being able to help the small smile as you cross your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was just- oh."

You realize your mistake. A very, very stupid one.

You just admitted you having fallen for him. And that stupid smug grin you so dearly want to either kiss or smack off his face isn't helping.

"L-look, okay, I admit-"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He queries, going to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. His hand started to slowly creep up and down your bicep, causing goosebumps to wake in his touch. Something he felt and was aware of.

"B-because I...W-well.." You nervously spout, looking for any sort of out. You can't tell this...this psychopath your true feelings. Instead of saying something smug, he does something worse:

He waits patiently and silently as you dig yourself into a deeper whole. Of course, you could deny, deny, deny. But...the fire is so close. Despite the force holding you back....if you could only just...relent a little. Besides, you'd feel releived, wouldn't you? Like finally telling your childhood crush you like them while on the playground at recess. That's exactly what this is. You're both on the playground, and he is your silly little crush, and none of this will matter. That doesn't stop your hummingbird of a heart.

Taking in a deep breath, with a face radiating the warmth you wish you'd receive from Chrollo, you finally talk. "Look, I just...Ok. I'm not even sure if I should love you. I mean, yes, I do love you, and I do want to be held and I secretly enjoyed it everytime you held me at night these past couple weeks. I cannot deny the way my h-heart skips everytime your gorgeous eyes observe my every action. Though I find it creepy, I also find it very fascinating. But I still feel like this isn't right. You-You stole many things, killed many people, and outright took me. I just- I just feel like I'm not supposed to love you."

He stares at you quietly for a beat or two after. For a moment, you're afraid you babbled on too fast, and he'd make you repeat yourself. But that's dumb for two reasons. 1. he can see and move faster than you can comprehend. 2. he speaks up after.

"None of your situation calls for normal circumstances. In the world you live in right now, your options are limited."

"Yes, but...-" Your chin is lifted up with his index finger and now you face him. What a sappy, cliche move. It doesn't prevent the already prevalent blush on your face to increase, however.

"You don't have to feel a certain way just because society wouldn't be pleased with it. After all, society wouldn't be pleased about any of this. And yet, no matter what, this will happen, anyway. So why care? It's not as though society has tried to save you."

He raises a point. A fair one, at that. That, doubled with the fact you so badly want to crawl into his arms right now. Who is stopping you? No one has dared help you before. Why should you care?

"I can see the stirring in your mind. You know I'm right." He states. You nod quietly.

"Then, what are you going to do about it?"

After a moment of silence, you give in. You gently push him back down to lay on the bed. At first, his eyebrows raise in surprise. He didn't think he convinced you to go this fast. But his confusion is soon quelled with an answer as you lay down on him, cuddling up to him in a much more wholesome manner than he thought you would. His expression softens. As you lay your head on his chest and curl up to him, he wraps his warm, protective arms around you. The book and mysterious force now gone. It all had dissolved much like a weak resolute in a strong resolvent. He let's out a peaceful, happy sigh, and you follow suit.

"You know, I've known about how you felt for some time." He reveals.

...Honestly, you knew. You are well aware nothing gets passed him. You where only just saving yourself from the embarrassment of admitting, and from the force that had held you back for what felt like a year.

"I know," you sigh "I'm just glad I get to do this now. Is it....is it okay of we do it more often?"

He let's out a handsome chuckle "Of course, my dear. How can I say no to denying you of what you desire when it's something as simple and precious as this? I had a feeling you might like this. Before I took you away, you where quite the cuddle bug."

"Hmm....." You hum. "Cuddle spider." You correct, nuzzling his chest. This felt much better than just staring at him from afar.

"Yes," he chuckles, liking your little pun. "My cuddle spider."

#i write for you #chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #writing for you #chrollo headcanon #Loosely proof read #probably a lot of mistakes #sorry if there is #chrollo x willing reader #yandere chrollo x Willing reader

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