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slaygentford · 2 months

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Armand's podcast chiarobscuro on obscure art history is just him speaking in a monotone for 1 hour about 1 page of 1 illuminated manuscript nd it's coincidentally number 1 trending on pods because people use it as a sleep aid. but then sometimes in the middle of it he'll say something incredibly disturbing and a cult (haha.) following starts claiming there are hidden subliminals in it which are allegations Armand never acknowledges and which people on twitter roast but reality shifters on tik tok get increasingly into. Daniels podcast by/line is beat out consistently by pod save America which is totally fine and not contributing to his alcoholism or his divorce or his psychosexual obsession with armand. he won't listen to armands podcast as a point of principle except for when he puts it on to fall asleep and then gets weirdly turned on and then pavlovs himself into arousal every time he hears armands voice. one sided psychological torture. Armand's cult (haha.) following continues to grow until lestat's podcast lestat (self-titled) filed in culture & the arts blows up and usurps him even though its an hour and a half one-man monologue about quite genuinely nothing at all, though worryingly often, his mother. and Louis? well Louis isnt privy to any of this because he has a child to raise and zones out whenever lestat starts talking about renting out a bigger recording studio for his podcast so that he can have guests on and invest in sound equipment FOR CLAUDIAS FUTURE, OF COURSE. her college fund Louis! the dividends will go toward her college fund. ahaha. what is the definition of this: dividends. Louis gets curious and listens to lestats podcast but gets distracted by recommended for you: chiarobscuro, finds it interesting enough that he doesn't fall asleep, and mentions it offhandedly to lestat after telling him lestat (self-titled) is cute. lestat is distracted by the high of being told Louis likes his podcast but wakes up in the middle of the night sitting straight up in bed when he remembers Louis said "chiarobscuro" in passing at precisely 7:46am this morning. lestat who has armand in his phone represented by the 🕴🏼emoji from college (Louis doesnt know he knows him, lestat has never once mentioned him) calls him from the bathroom at 4am and demands he immediately end his podcasting career. armand who of course answered at 4am counters that they meet in a neutral location to discuss terms. at 5am lestat and armand meet at a park. lestat rages, scaring off several sunrise joggers and their dogs. armand allows this to happen in silence and then says look across the pond. at which point lestat does and sees a bedraggled 50 year old white man plodding along with bodega coffee. you needn't worry about your Louis, says armand. I have a different project. I have been implanting subliminal messages in my podcasts in order to lure Molloy into my thrall. lestat, grudgingly impressed, concedes and stops to get coffee for the family before going back home. Louis and claudia are delighted by the impromptu breakfast and lestat is offered a special shower time reward. before disrobing, and working quickly, he hacks Louis' phone (passcode claudia's birthday) and in a fit of true selfless sacrifice deletes not just Louis' subscription to chiarobscuro, but his podcast app as a whole--damning his own podcast to never again be heard by Louis but removing armand permanently from their lives forever. he joins Louis in the shower, stunned by his own genius. perhaps he will have that worm molloy on his show in order to thwart armands plans. lestat 2 armand 0. it's almost enough to ease the burn of armand telling lestat in their audio production class in college that he's too dumb to start a podcast

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jamespotterismydaddy · 2 months

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Lord Husband (Chapter 9)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: this is the chapter that i have been looking most forward to writing. I have thought about it again and again. I'm sorry if the major angst wasn't what you were expecting but i added an extra paragraph at the end so it isnt too traumatic <3

Series Masterlist

WARNINGS: smut (not the fun kind), forced marital consummation for them both...

WORD COUNT: 1,334 words

You look so small in his arms as he carries you to the bedchamber, like a delicate flower that will fall apart if he holds you too tightly. No words are shared between your husband and yourself during the walk; an air of uncomfortable tension surrounds the two of you. Even when you enter the room and he places you down ever so gently, there are no words for a few moments.

“Perhaps you would like some water? Or some time to allow the effects of the alcohol to fade?” You’re drunk. He knows it. You know it. You’re swaying occasionally as he speaks.

“I would rather not.” You breathe out. The drunkenness is intentional. You don’t want to remember this night if you need not to.

“Are you quite sure? I think it would just be beneficial if-”

“I would like to have it over with.”

He cringes. It’s not the words a man wants to hear from his wife on their wedding night. He had always assumed his wedding night would be the best of his life, something filled with love and passion. He sees now that he was dreadfully wrong.

“If this is not something you wish to do today…”

“The marriage must be consummated.” It’s a practiced thought.

He thinks for a moment… then gives in. “I will do my best to make you comfortable. Come.” He beckons you over to him and you apprehensively make your way to your new lord husband.

His hand moves your hair out of the way as your back faces him. His fingers move to the ties of your dress and he starts to undo it. You feel cold when it’s tugged down, even with the fire heating the room. You stand in front of him now, only in your slip as he gazes down at you. You thought he would look more hungry, more lustful.

“May I take this off?” He murmurs, his fingers toying with the strap of your slip.

You know it is traditional to be bare for the act but just the thought of a man seeing you naked, even if he is your husband, makes you shudder.

Cregan senses your unease and speaks again, “Perhaps I should rephrase myself. Do you wish for me to take this off? You need not say yes just because it is expected, my love.”

“I-I would rather not.” You say with a shaky voice.

“Then you will keep it on. You will have to take off your small clothes though, but I think you should do that yourself.” He says carefully before unbuttoning and removing his tunic to give you a sense of being on the same level but looking at his bare chest does nothing but make you feel… strange.

You move slowly and he looks away as you pull your underwear off from beneath your slip. He then takes your hand to lead you to the bed but you pull it out of his grasp and crawl onto it yourself, looking at him with as straight of a face as you can muster.

“Will you have me on my front or back?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you like me to lie on my stomach or my back?” You ask emotionlessly.

“Um… well whatever is preferable for you. I thought, perhaps, you would allow me to do something first, to prepare you?” He kneels before you, between your legs. His fingers play with the hem of your chemise, ready to lift it and place kisses up… up… up. “You would enjoy it, I promise.” The look in his eyes is warm, an attempt to be comforting.

“No, I don’t want that.” You move back like a spooked mare. He may be about to bed you but that is far too intimate. “I want it done with.”

“You’re trembling. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You don’t frighten me.” You protest, almost offended, even if you are afraid.

“I won’t hurt you… or i’ll try not to.” You’re tense and a virgin, it would be lucky if he didn’t hurt you a little bit. “I’ll be gentle. I’ll take care of you.” He tries his hardest to reassure you but to no avail.

You roll onto your stomach so you don’t have to look him in the eyes, so he can’t see the tears that are threatening to fall. “Please just make it quick.”

Quick and gentle aren’t usually two things that go hand in hand but he wants to do his best to make it easy for you. Over and done with he thinks as he lifts your hips to place a pillow under them so you’ll be more comfortable.

“It will sting at first but we’ll go at your pace. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?” You don’t say anything for a few seconds. “I need to know you understood me, darling.”

“I understand.” The short statement is enough for him.

He lifts your slip until it only covers your bum. Usually he would feel himself harden at the sight of such plush thighs but your discomfort makes it difficult to arouse himself. He pumps his hand along his shaft, feeling it finally get stiff. He then spits on his hand so he can at least provide some lubricant even with you refusing his attempts of preparation.

You almost shiver when you feel the head of him against your folds and your eyes screw shut when he starts to push in.

The resistance. The resistance of your body makes him feel sick to his stomach. He’s never had a time with a woman where he didn’t just slip in with ease and now he’s just forced himself into his unwilling young bride.

“I should stop.” He breathes out.

“That is all it is?” You thought it would last longer.

“No, but you don’t like it.”

“I won’t like it anymore another day.”

Gods he feels worse now. Will it always be awful for you? Will you never be happy as his wife?

He starts to thrust in and out of your warmth anyhow. If he can’t please you then he at least won’t prolong your misery. It stings no matter how slow he goes, your body isn’t used to such a stretch. He holds your hips carefully, wanting nothing more to kiss you gently and tell you how beautiful you are, how good you’re doing. He just knows that such sentiments would fall on deaf ears.

It goes on for a few minutes. The tears that were held in your eyes are now fallen as you bury your face in the pillows. You don’t want him to see how weak you are. It’s pathetic to cry over something that every woman goes through. Your tears won’t make you feel less ruined, they won’t stop the mixing of his seed with your maiden’s blood. When it’s finally over, all you can do is hope that there is a son in your belly so you’ll never have to warm your husband’s bed again.

He hears your muted sobs for only a few minutes before you’re quiet. It’s been more than a long day and he’s pleased you have found your rest. You shift in your sleep, your body never used to the cold as you turn to face him. He wishes he could make you as content in waking day as you are in sleep. Cregan’s hand brushes the hair off your face. He knows there’s no woman in the world so beautiful. Any man would be pleased to have you… but you’re not truly his.

Your brows furrow as you feel the chill in your sleep. You subconsciously look for warmth and you unintentionally find it in the man that lies next to you. Cregan isn’t sure what to do when his delicate bride starts to cling to him but he can’t prevent the small smile from crossing his lips. At least an unthinking part of you finds solace in him.

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles @a-beaverhausen @petertingle3000 @lunnnix @hermaeusmorax @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @purplegardenwhispers @aesthetic0cherryblossom @katiemars @yourwonderbelle @callsignwidow

#lord husband #cregan fic #cregan stark smut #cregan stark fic #cregan stark #cregan #Hotd #Hotd fic #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...

AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?

Hear me out:

The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.

Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.

Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.

I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.

It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.

Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:

Grandpa's.

Fuckin'.

Cheesebarn.

Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.

Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.

But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"

All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.

Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.

All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.

Then C drops off the face of the earth.

She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.

Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"

And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."

lolwut

And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".

No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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heaven4lostgirls · 10 days

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Best Friend (R.C)

pairing: rafe cameron x reader, possibly jj maybank x reader

warning: hurt/comfort i believe? i'm not sure. rafe's an ass but also psycho but what else is new. JJ is a cutie and we love him. mentions of unrequited feelings and jealousy.

summary: being rafe's best friend used to be one of the best things in life, until it wasnt. now its time for you to make your own choices and rafe isnt too happy about that.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: as i said, my motivation is back so say hello to a new story!, not sure if i'll continue this but if you want another part, i'll be open to trying to write another piece.

Rafe and you had been friends since before you could even know what the word meant. Y/N and Rafe, Rafe, and Y/N, never one without the other, a package deal since the day you could remember. It was beautiful, truly. Having someone you could trust unconditionally; sure, you had your family and other close friends but none of them ever knew you as well as Rafe did. His ability to see not just you, but your soul was something you couldn’t imagine finding with someone else.

Which is why for the last 5 years, you’ve spent quietly trying to kill the crush you’d developed on your best friend. Every piece of attention he had ever given you, every small touch and sweet gesture just nurtured your heart faster than any of his sexual conquests and questionable habits could ever break it. You followed his figure through the party he had thrown at house, the smell of drugs, alcohol and sweaty bodies all mushed together to create the distinct atmosphere of a typical Rafe Cameron rager.

He was known for these parties; you both were actually. You and Rafe were unanimously dubbed the prince and princess of the OBX. You were once fond of that title but as time passed and you watched from the sidelines as a new girl sat of Rafe’s lap as you were left behind to do your own thing, it became a harder pill to swallow. Currently, he had his arm wrapped around a beautiful brunette who looked nothing like you, which seemed to be a recurring theme.

You watched as he sat down on one of the couches on the balcony near his friends and pulled the girl into his lap, your eyes stung but you knew better than to let your emotions get the better of you. Now was not the time to lose your cool, someone could see, and the news would spread fast to Rafe and with his inebriated state from who knows what, you weren’t willing to take the chances he was going to act in a sane way.

So, you blinked harshly, refilled your cup with your drink of choice and went back to the party, aiming to ignore Rafe and his company for the most part until he eventually got bored and came looking for you. Fortunately for you, you spot Kiara and the rest of the Pogue’s outside near the fire pit. It’s usually very rare to see any of them at one of these parties, more so because of Sarah’s strained relationship with her brother.

It’s comforting to meet their warm and happy gazes, you haven’t been able to spend much time with them because Rafe had monopolised most of it, he also didn’t particularly enjoy you choosing to spend your time with someone else other than him. Fortunately for you, parties like these lets you branch out and speak to new people without having to worry about Rafe breathing down your neck.

“Hey Y/N!” John B calls out and the rest of the group turns with excited and warm looks on their faces, the calm that washes over your body is immediate and you walk over to them to say hi. “Hey” you mutter shy as the girls get up to hug you as you sit in-between JJ and Sarah. “Haven’t seen you much around the island recently, you doing, okay?” Kiara asks curiously and you chew on your lip as you wonder what to tell her.

“No yeah I’m good, it’s just…Rafe you know?” you say, somewhat embarrassed that you don’t have a better excuse for the group. As you look down to your lap, you miss the look of sympathy that Kiara and Sarah share, they know just how bad it is to be caught up with Rafe. “Hey, are you busy tomorrow?” Sarah pipes in and you look at her in surprise, this is the first time someone’s ever invited you to hang out.

“No?” you say confused and Sarah looks at the group before breaking out in a big smile before mentioning, “We’re all going to the beach tomorrow, it’s supposed to be a really good surf day” she says as she looks at you expectantly. “We’d love if you could join us” Kiara adds and the smile that lights up is almost blinding. “That sounds great! I’m not too good at surfing but I’d still like to come if you’ll have me” you say a little embarrassed and the rest of the group just voices their agreement before Pope breaks the chatter.

“John B’s teaching Sarah tomorrow how to get the bigger waves and I’ll be helping Kie fish, but JJ’s free if you want some help” he offers and the man in question looks surprised at the suggestion. You’re shocked but you look at JJ with a small smile and shrug of your shoulders. “Yeah, no worries, I don’t know how good of a teacher I’ll be, but I can try” he says, and you nod excitedly.

The night moves on swiftly with friendly chatter between 6 of you. You surprisingly don’t feel excluded when they start sharing all their memories together, you’re happy to sit back and listen and before you know it, the party starts dying down and people start either dozing off right where they are or leaving to get home. You try to find Rafe but one sympathetic look from Topper lets you know that he’s in his room…not alone.

With no ride home and Topper wasted, you have no way home. You’re about to start walking but you see the lights of a run-down van come to a stop across the street before the door opens and JJ’s voice carries through the night. “C’mon! John B’s our DD tonight, you can get a lift bunk with us for the night.” He offers and you gladly accept, you all make your way back to the chalet and as everyone gets to their designated sleeping areas, there’s no space for you on any of the couches.

Pope offers you his space so he can sleep on the floor, but you decline, letting him know its okay. You settle in on the cold floor and try to readjust to get a comfortable spot before you feel someone shaking your arm. You open your eyes and blink slightly to see JJ’s ruffled hair and outstretched hand, you look at him confusedly but nonetheless comply. He pulls you up and navigates the chalet like second nature, “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.” He whispers and you shake your head vehemently.

“No, I’m not taking your bed, you sleep there. I was fine on the floor” you argue, and he rolls his eyes as he pulls you into the room. “I could hear your shuffling through the door, just sleep in the bed y/n.” he says amused, your lips twitch into a smile as you look at him in the eyes. “No.” you say, and his eyes roll again as he huffs and moves to the bed to lie down on one side.

Before you can leave you see him pat the space next to him. “You coming or what?” he mumbles sleepily. You hesitate for a second before you realise that it’s better than sleeping on the floor. You get in on the other side of the bed and place the blanket over the bottom half of your body. As you doze off, you’re mildly aware of someone pulling you closer to their chest and soft breathing against your neck.

You wake up to your phone buzzing, as you pick it up you notice almost a dozen missed calls from Rafe and over fifty texts ranging from asking where you are to confusion that you’re not at his place or your own, to anger that you’re not answering him. Your heads still pounding from the alcohol last night so all you do is send him and your parents a text saying your safe and you’re spending the day with some friends at the beach.

JJ groans from behind you and you’re suddenly aware of his arm wrapped around your waist and his legs tangled with yours. “Why’re you up so early” he mumbles into your neck, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “Sorry, my phone woke me up” you mumble sheepishly. “Then put it off and let’s go back to sleep” he groans as he tightens his arms around you which makes your face heat.

Just as you turn your phone off and place it on the side table, the door opens and John B’s voice floats through the room. “JJ, get up we’re leaving in 10-” he stops midway through as he catches you and JJ together, you go to tell him what happened, but he just shakes his head and smiles. “I’ll see you both up and ready in 10 minutes, Y/N, Sarah left you a spare bikini in the bathroom if you need it.” He says cheerfully as he closes the door before you can finish saying thanks.

JJ groans and throws his arm over his eyes before he smirks and lets out a huff of laughter which sends you both into fits of laughter. After you all get ready and are on your way to the beach, you and JJ spend your time talking and catching up with one another, being around the same age you both knew of each other but had never been particularly close. You come to loathe that as you find out just how funny and caring JJ is as a person.

When you reach the beach, you see that JJ had packed a spare board for you. Your heart warms at the gesture as he carries both to the water. The waves aren’t particularly high right now so as you both paddle in, you’re comfortable enough to ride a few of the smaller ones. As they get higher, you let JJ catch a few before he comes back to help you. You spend around an hour letting JJ manoeuvre you to get a good position on the board and working on your technique. It takes a couple tries of you falling off the board and trusting JJ to catch you before you’re even comfortable with trying one of the waves.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe had been stressing the fuck out after waking up without you this morning. He had spent the better part of an hour trying to find you, you weren’t at his, nor at your parents. He’d only gotten it out of topper that he saw you leaving in a car after the party ended so safe to assume he was losing his shit. Where the fuck had you possibly have gone? Who could you have gone with? You didn’t have any friends other than him, and he knows that none of the guys at the party would have tried to sleep with you when they knew you inadvertently belonged to him.

Mind you, when you finally bothered to answer his dozen calls and texts, all you had sent was “I’m okay don’t worry, I’m spending the day at the beach with some friends, I’ll see you tomorrow!” like hell you would. Who did you think he was? He was not going to let you just flounce around anywhere when there were people that could hurt you. Also, these “friends” you spoke about just about made him angry enough to fuel the urge to kill someone. Who could you possibly be talking about? All the people you two spent your time with were either at home still or at his place which he knew could only mean you were at the beach with those dirty fucking pogues.

You were gonna do Rafe’s head in, running off from him and the party to hang out with them? He scoffed at the thought. They didn’t know you like he knew you. They wouldn’t treat you as well as he did. Thinking about that dick John B that had roped his stupid fucking sister into their plans made his blood boil at the thought that they could be doing the same to you. The thought only made him speed faster to the beach.

Once he got there, oh was his blood definitely boiling. Fucking JJ. With his scummy little hands all over your body, in one of the tiniest swimsuits he’d ever seen you in. God, you looked beautiful. It was hard to dwell on that fact when all he could see was you laughing and splashing around with JJ whilst he stood on the beach glaring daggers at the blonde boy’s figure.

“Y/N!” he bellowed across the beach, and he gloated in the horror that washed over your face as you turned to look at the beach with JJ’s stupid fucking arms still wrapped around your waist. You try to smile and wave at him, but his anger must show on his face as you drop your hand and look at him in confusion. “Come here!” he yells again and watches as you turn to JJ to ask a question, the blonde idiot in question just shrugs and smiles up at you.

He watches as you take a deep breath before you turn to him and shake your head whilst yelling a “NO” across the beach. His jaw clenches at your statement as he continues glaring. “I’m not playing around Y/N. COME. HERE.” He yells again and watches as JJ tells you something softly that you laugh at before you turn to him deviously before yelling out, “Fuck off Rafe” with a big smile on your face.

He inhales sharply as his gaze hardens on the both of you. Fine. You wanna be like that? Okay. He’s not letting you get off that easy. He smirks at the thought as he stalks off to his car to drive off. He’ll wait you out if he has to, and when you do come out. You’lll regret ever using that tone with him.

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dxstopiaa · 1 year

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Justified Jealousy…

Synopsis: A series of provocative glances, or a unwanted momentary touch drives your lover crazy, envy lacing their face.

Characters: Jealous! Zhongli, Ayato and Al Haitham x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: None, perhaps just suggestive and description of jealousy. [Reader wears a sari/lehenga in alhaitham’s bc i said so, something that isnt nsfw lately? Also quite a lengthy fic, aaaaaa enjoy! but 200 followers aaa \(^ヮ^)/]

[Now Playing: Earned it]

Zhongli

• If there was one ability the former archon had learned over these millennia, it was controlling his emotions. Initiating battles, losing his dearest ones, witnessing his darkest fears accumulate- all of it. Ardour washed away with tides of erosion yet one remained with the sight he saw before him.

• You were seated next to the young harbinger, his acquaintance, smiling fondly at his words as he seemed to entertain you. Of course, Tartaglia did have that passionate charm within him, those fierce eyes and a grin worth remembering. Yet the sickening concoction of fury, envy and frustration built up in Zhongli’s stomach.

• He approached your table at Third-Round Knockout, seating himself beside you. You greeted him kindly, pushing a glass of wine towards him. He graciously accepted it and took a measly sip, not intending to get intoxicated as soon as Childe had.

• It was apparent how much of a lightweight he was, slurring his words ever so slightly. Likely the reason for his boldness. The consultant dismissed it, listening to the storyteller intently. That is, until the Snezhnayan diplomat began speaking.

• “So, Mr. Zhongli, who do you think has a better chance of attracting little miss here?” Childe brashly raised, returning his daze to you. You averted your own eyes from the man, humming. Appeared as if the Harbinger was oblivious to social cues also.

• The archon, still poised, rested his glass on the surface. Inside was a different matter however, for he wished to draw his polearm at that instant, so harsh and imprudent. Zhongli looked over again, seeing your subtly entertained face stung him.

• “Childe, I remind you, handle your alcohol more responsibly. As for that question, it’s none of your concern.” He half-hissed possessively, unusual for his nature. Pleasantly surprised to say the least, Tartaglia chuckled.

• “Hah! That’s more like it, I knew you weren’t as reserved as you present yourself!” The younger man snickered, watching Zhongli’s expression morph into something akin to displeasure. He simply crossed his arms flush against his chest, eyes squinted.

• You noticed the prior grasp the brunette had on the glassware, positive it would of shattered. Sure, the funeral parlour consultant was a gentleman, but what further feelings did he conceal in his heart?

• “Oh i see the issue, you’re jealous!” Childe gasped, dramatically clasping his hands over his ajar mouth. Irritating as always. Zhongli huffed, about to leave the table with that irked countenance of his. Until you stopped him, clasping tightly onto his gloved hand and pulling him down.

• With nothing else in mind, you kissed his cheek, which was reddening rapidly. You despised seeing such a look on his handsome face, resolving it with another drastic action. Despite its quick ending, the consultant’s mind was clouded. He excused himself, what a stuttering mess you’ve made of him.

• Giddily approaching his workplace, which he should of been at an hour ago, his boss exclaimed strings of words he couldn’t make out. Perhaps these emotions he’s avoided are his own drug.

• “Stop smiling, Mr. Zhongli! It’s beginning to scare me!”

Ayato

• As a prominent figure in the Tri-Commission, Ayato was not exempt from meetings and gatherings to discuss Inazuma’s development, and neither were you as his wife from another clan yourself.

• The heavy burden of the nation’s wellbeing weighted heavy upon your shoulders, the fear of directing your people in the wrong direction ever-present. A gentle grasp and comforting squeeze of your hand pulled you away from your thoughts.

• Your husband smiled warmly, using another hand to stroke your hair. He could almost sense your apprehension, if it wasn’t from the brief frown on your face. Right, you were currently waiting for the other nobles to join you in Komore Teahouse. The exorbitantly expensive teacups in front awaiting your other guests in the same manner.

• The tranquility was short lived as two other commissioners sat opposite you both, one face painted with a rather imperious expression. The other seemingly focused on your appearance, unpleasantly. Maybe you were being paranoid, you thought, greeting the men as respectfully as one could.

• Ayato was quick to discuss the subject, immediately presenting the paperwork, sipping his tea whilst he awaited a response. The Tenryou spokesman glanced at the terms, signing them off with the flutter of a quill pen.

• “Perfect, though i can’t help but take notice of you, My Lady, what importance do you have here other than to look alluring?” The man spoke up, rather confidently. Your breath hitched, unwillingly smiling, pushing the statement aside as not to anger him.

• Your husband eyed the man, clearing his throat to retrieve his attention once more. Ayato was patient by nature, but his fists clenched tighter at his ignorant words. Was your relationship not obvious enough? Or worse, did he choose to ignore it?

• The representative continued his conversation, although the constant flickering of his eyes towards you was quite daunting. Poor attempts to be subtle finally catching up to him, deciding to be outright confrontational.

• “I’d like for you to join my clan, after all you aren’t married from what i can see, i’ll provide you with everything and anything.” Again, the plain incomprehension. The Tenryou Head droned on, almost as if he was under the influence of alcohol.

• No matter how you stammered that you weren’t interested, he persisted. Ayato grew angrier by the second, struggling to keep his composure. He latched onto your hand, bringing it up to the table and infront of the commissioner, playing with the golden ring on your finger.

• His indigo irises never left your own, contemplating whether he had to kiss you infront of the ignorant clan member to show his love for you. The stare he gave you wasn’t cold; more so irritated and envious. The thought of you with anyone other than him was ill-fitting, the way his name rolled off your tongue was a melody only he should hear.

• “May i remind you that this is a professional matter? I assure you my wife isn’t interested in the slightest.” Ayato partially threatened, malice dripping from every word, taking your hand in his and kissing it delicately. Reputation won’t be an issue infront of such a vile being.

• The stammering man’s face was red with sheer embarrassment, claiming how he was very sorry and how it wasn’t his fault. The Kamisato heir hoisted you up from your seat, disregarding the meaningless protests as you both left the room, entering another desolate one.

• “Do i have to physically prove you’re mine? How about carrying my bloodline further, sweetheart?” He secured you against the wall, smoothing his thumb over your lips.

Al Haitham

• It was well known how gorgeous the sunsets were in Sumeru, countless couples sitting upon stone benches to cherish it, or friends giggling and joking with eachother, basking in it’s glow.

• Al Haitham didn’t know where he’d place your relationship with him on that scale. Would you both be in the developing rosé hues, friendly with a sense of intimacy? Or would you be in the deep saffrons, an established unbreakable infatuation? Or perhaps a blend of the two.

• Deciphering your perception of him was much more challenging than he expected, a price which came along with bonds. Moreover, he needed to recognise his own feelings first, putting that matter beside once your voice could be heard behind him.

• You tapped his shoulder, smiling warmly at him, intending not to startle him from the thoughts, or books even, he often indulged in. Al Haitham knew your charismatic character differed from his reclusive approach, but that’s what drew you together, he supposed.

• Usually, you’d be asking him how his day went, or if anything happened whilst you were gone, but you were oddly quiet. He glimpsed at you momentarily, observing your timid demeanour as you followed beside him. You’d open up eventually.

• “I don’t understand why Nilou made me wear this, it makes it seem like we’re a couple…” The Scribe looked at you again, except for much longer than before. Right, the turquoise lehenga and veil draped across your shoulder fitted quite well with his own colour scheme. A little too obviously than he had planned it to.

• “How unfortunate.” Al Haitham sarcastically stated, not missing the way you side-eyed him, almost hearing his smirk through his words. “..Anyway, i need to pick some items up from my home, care to accompany me?”

• You were piqued by his offer, although you had met him a few times outside his house, you never had the opportunity to see inside, causing you to nod your head enthusiastically. You wondered if he was as organised as he claimed he was, or if his house was a mess in disguise.

• Simultaneous footsteps pattered against the stone pavement, coming to a halt a little further from the heart of the city. The residence was actually quite nice from the outside, simplistic yet larger than most.

• Al Haitham reached into his pocket, pulling a golden key from it and began unlocking the door, pushing it open and gesturing you inside with a brief nod. You could hear a series of light tapping sounds before it stopped, more steps upon wooden floors approaching.

• “You’re back already? Ugh, I didn’t even get to-” The unfamiliar man had ceased to speak, simply looking back and forth at you and the Scribe. His crimson eyes squinted slightly, and then widened in some sort of realisation.

• “Don’t tell me, you’ve actually got a girlfriend? I almost feel sorry for her already.” He continued, voice contorted into a discredited tone. Girlfriend? You two weren’t dating!

• “Yes Kaveh, and what?” You snapped your head towards Al Haitham at his words, scrunching your brows. To your surprise, he was nodding his head, still seeming unbothered as ever. Now he’s lying too?

• “Haitham, We’re-” His hand tightening further around your waist told you enough, an inaudible message saying to be quiet. Kaveh sighed, rolling his eyes. Honestly a reaction you would give to the insufferable man beside you too.

• The Scribe merely chuckled, sitting you down on a cushioned couch, right beside him. The blonde-haired man sat opposite, apparently still in disbelief as he stared quite unnervingly at you, a small grin present.

• “She’s too pretty for you, i’m sure she’d prefer if she was dating me instead.” Kaveh spontaneously admitted, laughing as heat crept up your face. Though this would be an opportunity too amusing to pass on, now that you thought of it.

• “Maybe.” You replied, enjoying the slight blaze of envy in Al Haitham’s irises. If he was going to tease you, he should expect the same back. It was your turn to giggle, resting your head on your ‘boyfriend’s’ shoulder.

• Your sudden playfulness surprised him, whilst he knew this was only a comical tease of yours, he wanted nothing more but to make you and that roommate of his realise just how far he’d go for your love.

• Kaveh focused his attention on him instead now, he knew that the Scribe was just putting on that stoic act to refrain from shouting infront of you. Why not add salt to the injury?

• “How did a grumpy ogre like you catch the heart of a princess such as her?” The architect cackled, winking at you. Another suppressed laugh from you, covering your mouth with your palm, intending not to hurt Al Haitham too much.

• What you didn’t expect was for him to tilt your chin to the side, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips onto yours. His soft lips parted slightly, melting whatever dignity you had left and drowning out the gasp you emitted. Passionate enough for your heart to accept it as an unspoken confession, begging for more. Al Haitham pulled away, pressing a last, delicately light kiss onto your forehead.

• “That’s how.” He simply stated, almost ignoring the reality of what he had done, wordlessly wrapping you around his finger just as you did, excusing himself from where he was sat, draping his cape over your shoulders before he headed to his room, “..Goodnight, love.”

• Between you and his roommate, you couldn’t decide which of you were more shocked. Kaveh almost resembled a gaping fish, jaw dropped, looking as if he wasn’t far from losing it. Appears as if the Scribe’s plan had worked.

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