kissing boys

32 - They/Them - DARK CONTENT, MDNI - in love with diluc ragnivindr

[pavosnoctua]

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32 - They/Them - Genshin/HSR

I write for Arlecchino, Diluc, Kaeya, Dr. Ratio, and Aventurine mostly. But sometimes I branch out :)

Requests Open / Interactions Open

@sleepyelias -Main, @ordowrites non yandere writing blog my twitter | my a03

minors dni, blank blogs dni. dark content can be found here. dead dove: do not eat. do not repost my works on AI websites or in general. this user is anti-AI. do not repost, do not link from elsewhere.

masterlist | rules

[zmpl]

has anyone noticed that after the porn ban of 2018 tumblr was essentially killed from the mainstream and everyone flocked to other social media sites like twitter and meta. then those sites got enshittified to where twitter became Nazi Central and meta sites had an entire meme around getting “zucced” aka mark zuckerberg himself would ban you for saying a no-no word like fuck. and then the mainstream shifted to tiktok where infamous toddlerspeak sentences like “he got unalived by a pew pew” were born because if you once again say a no-no word like kill or gun or any other word that isn’t corporate i mean kid friendly then the algorithm will bury your post into the ground. and somehow we’ve come full circle and tumblr is now the most bearable social media site because although we can’t have female presenting nipples we can at least talk to each other like adults. has anyone noticed that at all or is it just me and the flaming skull

[scalpho]

ei responding to the death of her sister by attempting to create a state of eternity vs kazuha responding to the death of his friend by going on to live a life of impermanence. trying to make loss impossible (so you never get hurt again) vs trying to make loss so natural that you don't get attached to anything (and never get hurt again). staying in the same place forever vs running away forever

[pyreo]

& further equating them when they clash and he blocks raiden's unstoppable attack. two complete opposites, the turmoil and rage of grief, and dead-eyed abandonment interlocking and neither coming out greater, both of them having completely upended their lives trying to process a death

[diwooc]

My friends and I made a discord for adults who play Genshin and looking for active users~! We have plenty of stuff and are ship friendly! And OC friendly!

Join here!

[flintsy]

Hi, hello! I've been a little inactive here - but I promise I am not abandoning or quitting writing! I've just been busy! I moved to overnights, officially and am now finally adjusting to my new schedule (and got the clearance to finally have my laptop with me!). I am on a brain worky medication now too.

That said, I am here to make a teeny tiny advertisement if anyone is interested - awhile ago, some friends and I were talking about Genshin Impact and I made mention that I'd like more adults only spaces for GI that feels like community and not so much of a struggle to keep up so! We went ahead and created it!

I don't know if Tumblr still doesn't list posts with links but I'll still try anyways and give you a summary of what to expect for the server:

So while it is Genshin Impact focused, there are channels + threads focused on other games (WuWa, HSR, ZZZ, and Infinity Nikki) with the possibility of adding more as time goes on + if enough members need/want it.

We aim to be casual group with allowing people to stream their pulls, do co-op, plan game or movie nights!

We're ship friendly and do not allow shipping drama at all - there are some exceptions as it will be laid out in the rules pretty clearly! Yes, even self-ship is accepted and encouraged (by this mod, who shamelessly ships themself with Diluc and sometimes Neuvilette).

We are LGBT+ friendly and ran and have no tolerance for anything anti-LGBT and we are working to foster an inclusive community. For adults.

And more things to do and come! Mods are always receptive to feedback and everything stays anonymous!

If you're interested in joining, here is the link! (DM me if it doesn't work and I'll get you linked in!) You can also share with your friends too<3

An 18+ server for fans of Genshin Impact, who want an environment free from stress and minors, and all the messy, needless drama that comes

(again, this is an adults only space!)

[allfearstofallto]

"Sing for me,"

Yandere! Scaramouche × Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

An order. Not a request. Scaramouche who tended to spend his moments in silence, who lacked the ability to dedicate time to idle chatter. Scaramouche who believes that all words spoken, that any phase uttered had have meaning, told you to do something. And it was expected that you do it. Not a request. Scaramouche didn't make requests.

Requests were for those weak and unable to assume power over others. No. Request weren't suited for Scaramouche. The man in front of you, with sharp, piercing, blue eyes framed in red, and a snarl so pressed onto his lips it could be permanent, was telling you to do something. Your husband was giving you an order. Not doing it wasn't an option.

"My throat is parched, my lord," you spoke softly. So quiet, a mouse could've been louder than you and Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. There you were again, speaking with no purpose. Speaking like someone with no authority. The balladeer hated when you spoke silently, but you were given his mercy and met with just the hike of his eyebrow.

Scaramouche raised a nimble hand, fingers long and thin. He snapped them. The sound reverberated, billowed and echoed, louder than your meek sounding voice. With just a snap of his fingers a maid rushed in. Head lowered, eyes cast towards the floor, hands one in front of the other.

"Tea," another order. Spat in his venomous tone. In less than a heart beat she was out the door and down the hall. It only took a few more agonizing moments before she returned with a tray carrying one of his many expensive tea sets.

Scaramouche was a man who didn't see the need in having anything lavish. He had a home because you needed somewhere to lay his head. He had maids because you were only to lift you hands to do for him. Although, he was always willing to spend a little excessively on one thing and one thing alone. His tea sets. The one thing he loved more than a glass of tea was you, maybe that's why he always spent so much to make sure that they were as beautiful as you.

A glass was poured with steady hands. No sugar, of course. Scaramouche turned his nose upwards at the sight of anything sweet. His home was one without confections, his preference leaning towards the bitter.

You sipped from the glass, nearly burning your tongue as you tried to drink it down quickly. He was growing impatient. You could see it. Elbow resting on the desk, his chin on his hand, his other was placed on his arm rest, tapping angrily. Each firm tap of that fingertip matching the beating of your heart, a rhythmic, primal sound that only made your mouth more dry.

"Sing," he ordered again. This time, his word had an even more harsh, biting sting to it. If that were even possible.

"Any song you wish to hear in particular, my lord?"

Sharp blue eyes were on you once more, his hand that was once tapping was now gripping the armrest. You met his gaze and felt your blood run cold. Scaramouche clicked his teeth.

"Why are you making this harder than it needs to be?"

That was his way of telling you that he didn't care which song, just as long as you sang.

You cleared your throat one last time and opened your mouth. Your voice, rich and strong flooded through his office, basking him in your sorrowful song. He always insisted he didn't have a preference, but Scaramouche would always praise you more when your song was one of melancholy.

And melancholic it was. You always sang of home. Of freedom. In a language he didn't understand, he didn't know that you were singling of what was lost. Or maybe he did and just didn't care. He knew how homesick you were and wanted to constantly remind you of what could have been. Of the life you could've had, had things not home the way they did.

It was hard not to cry when you sang. Your voice, which was once used to entertain the masses, was now being monopolized by one abhorrent person. So you cried. Your voice never wavered as when the tears cascaded down your face. Your song only grew more rich with your sorrow.

Maybe that's why he always insisted you sing your pretty songs for him. At the sight of your tears, a little smirk would cross his lips and his harsh gaze would change to one of triumph. A looked that claimed ownership of you, your talents, and your tears.

AN: I wanted to write a reader from Fontaine, so I decided to make her an opera singer!

[allfearstofallto]

Y'know - I've always wondered what the yans would do if their darlings *received* a Vision while in captivity? Like I'm sure Scaramouche would just confiscate it, but what about Diluc or Childe? I can't imagine any of the three allowing them to *keep* such a thing on them.

I can't think of which vision each darling would have (I think at least one of them should have geo for their strong will) but other than that, it's definitely up for interpretation.

Also you send like the BEST asks, I love you, this was so fun to write.

When you find your vision, lying on your bedside, your immediate reaction is to hide it from Childe. Quite the perceptive man he is though, even though you positively remember stashing it away in one of your many drawers, under a pile of clothes and fabric, he casually mentions the object the very next day at breakfast. His remark is followed by you nearly choking on your food, meeting his gaze in fear only to find a smile?

Ajax is quite enthused by the new edition. Always the man to love sparring and pushing his life to the limits, you becoming a vision holder entices him, enamours him with you even more. Your vision is yours. Only yours. Don't worry about your orange haired, brightly smiling husband taking it from you, he wants you to keep it. Use it. Train with it even.

Mostly because he develops a sense of pride in knowing that he's partially the reason that you acquired it. Your hatred for him is being used for power, how cute is that? But also because he knows that no matter how strong you get, you'll never be strong enough to get away from him. Keep practicing, he encourages it. After all, Ajax always hated the sight of you losing yourself.

Your daily regime with Scaramouche is air tight. A schedule only the strong willed could accomplish, you seldom find yourself even having enough time to let your eyes wander. So, after dropping your calligraphy brush under the table, you're shocked when you're met with a vision, bright and glowing. Shocked and deeply afraid, you gawk at it with a quivering lip. But nothing can be hidden from Scaramouche, he noticed a change in your body language immediately upon no longer hearing the subtle sound of your brush strokes on the parchment and he too makes the same discovery.

Your vision is snatched from your hands and instantly you feel weak. Distant. No longer yourself, but all too you at the same time. Tales spread of what would happen when someone was separated from their vision, you'd heard of them in passing, but never once cared to listen. That is until today when you feel that same pressure and agony all over your body, making you weaker than before. And Scaramouche notices this too, as he always does. The gears in his head begin turning, a smirk crossing his lips.

Your vision is treated as a reward. Although it is yours and detrimental consequences happen when you're without it, Scaramouche keeps it on his person. In a sickening way, you crave his presence, almost like a drug. Because in him, where he holds your vision hostage, you find yourself. Of course he knows this, he is no idiot, and he revels in the need you feel for him, the control over you that he's always wanted.

Another fit of rage, another day of anger. All you craved was the outdoors. The real outdoors, yet Diluc would never let you have it. Safety this, protection that. He had to have some kind of script. Tender red eyes and soft words would speak down to you, like a child, and infuriate you more. Maybe that's where you're vision came from: your rage.

Both you and Diluc saw it at the same time. Both of you looked upon it in disbelief, yet the surprise was for different reasons.

Diluc didn't hesitate to snatch it into his hold, earning another grimace from you. He clutched it, held it tightly in his gloved hand. Strangely, it felt as if he were squeezing you against his palm. You hated it.

You never got the chance to hold it, not even once. It was locked away, but that much was to be expected. It was dangerous, Diluc insisted. A vision isn't a toy and it's not something to be played with. There was a look of guilt on his face as he spoke this to you, like he was recounting something that you didn't know about. You would've felt sorry for him, if he wasn't knowingly weakening you.

The room where your vision is held is locked tight. It'd be easier to break into the nights of favonious headquarters than it would be to go and take what was rightly yours. You don't even bother trying to ask Diluc for it back. How many of those lectures could he give you about safety? You didn't know nor did you want to hear another.

Instead, you take to sitting on the floor with you head pressed against the door, feeling yourself behind that wall. A pitiful sight you are, whenever you choose to stay there, the maids bring you pillows, blankets, and snacks, forming a little nest of shame. Maybe your pathetic form would guilt Diluc into giving it back?

[ah10ve]

[allfearstofallto]

Okay, wait I gotta talk about this, cause while I do believe in virgin Caleb supremacy, I also like this idea too!!

I can't stop thinking about him finding a girl who looks damn near identical to you, especially in dark lighting, but her voice is so different it throws him off. So he's fucking into her with a palm over her mouth, insisting that he just likes light bdsm, but actually just wanting it to feel as close to you as possible, even down to the sound.

[allfearstofallto]

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

Scaramouche daydreamed a lot. No. That's not right. Daydreaming was a term that sounded too child-like and whimsical for a man as glaringly harsh and serious as him. Instead, you could say he pondered. Often looking lost in thought, more in his head than he was reality. With how long you'd assumed the man had lived, you supposed he had much to think about. Lots of memories. Lots of remorse. Lots of things to think on that just flooded his mind until he was sucked into his brain.

He pondered most after dinner. In that time where the two of you would sit together in what you once considered an awkward silence, his strange form of quality time, but even you began to find comfort in the fact that there was nothing to say. Scaramouche also had lower expectations of you at this time, seeing as he wanted you to do nothing more than sit and pass the time with him. Those sharp blue eyes that would wordlessly express their displeasure in you, no longer casted judgemental gazes. Instead, they pondered.

“Do you think you would've fallen in love with me under normal circumstances?” He asked one day, voice barely audible over the silence of the room. He'd never spoken to you during this time before and had it not been for the fact that the two of you were completely alone in his office, you would've thought he was talking to someone else. But sure enough, when you looked up, his eyes were upon you, waiting for your answer. An answer you didn't have.

It was something you'd never thought of before. All you felt for him, from the day you first met him up until this very moment, was hatred. But he was attractive. Although, he knew that, often mentioning the fact that he was designed to be beautiful. Not handsome, but beautiful. Effeminate in his looks, graceful in the way he moved, soft cheeks and long lashes. Scaramouche was aware of his breathtaking beauty, but that wasn't what he was asking you. He wanted to know what your heart felt.

“Possibly,” you finally said. Whether or not that was the truth was debatable. You supposed anything could happen, but hindsight is 20/20. Choices had already been made, words already said that could never be taken back, actions that could never be undone.

“Do you think you could fall in love with me now?”

He noticed your scoff and raised eyebrows, an expression on his face that's you'd never seen before. Was it surprise? Pain? It looked more akin to agony, but he schooled his expression back to normal just as quickly as it'd changed.

“I'll take your response as answer enough,” he spat those words with a sharp, bitter tone. Enough venom in his voice to make you believe that he was prepared to punish you, but he continued speaking, “Do you feel anything for me now? Anything good?”

There was this sense of longing to his words. A pleading for you to say what he wanted to hear. And maybe it was just the Stockholm syndrome finally kicking in or a genuine sense of affection for the man, but you felt inclined to say something nice. A gentle tug at the weary strings of your heart, desire to comfort him despite all that he'd done. You'd thought yourself mad for how the irrational part of you was wanting to respond.

“I don't hate you as much as you think I do,” was your answer, a compromise between the rational and irrational.

There was a silence. A deafening one. As he pondered again, thinking on your words like he was testing the way they felt in his brain. Then he nodded. A triumphant nod, or at least as triumphant as his usual snarky expression would allow.

“I suppose, I can live with that,”

[bunnygirllover45]

Here's my own tutorial on how to sleep with your kidnapped victim partner. I did not take comfort as factor btw I think this was a trend?? I don't know I just remember seeing similar drawings before.

[pavosnoctua]

cw: yandere, demi-human reader, afab reader, mentions of isolation, spanking, diluc's savior complex, forced/arranged marriage. mdni.

let me know if i missed a warnining!

All he can do is offer...empty apologies - especially when you look at him with wide eyes and ears flattened against your head. You used to attack him at one point, now it's just fearful resignation.

You screwed up - why do you keep thinking you can escape? The man has eyes and ears everywhere. What you say and do, never go unnoticed or unheard of by him. Your heats are promptly taken care of, your attempts to slip out the window meant it being sealed shut. Your cruel words are repeated back to you - always called tantrums.

"My love."

"I'm not -" It's no use, no point. He wishes to call you that, live in his delusions. "I missed the sun." Your voice is weak. "I just wanted to feel the sun." Because running away is impossible in clothes made of thin fabric, intending for you to simply be on display for him. It wouldn't stop you from trying again though.

"I know." Diluc sounds remorseful as he sits down on the bed - your stomach sinks. "You bit one of the maids though."

"She startled me." You offer, lamely. You wanted to apologize but couldn't because Diluc caught wind of this too quickly - intervened too quickly. It has been him you wished you'd bit.

Diluc says nothing as he beckons for you to come closer and you shake your head at first. Even if there's no instrument involved, his open palm feels far more humiliating. Being spanked is humiliating.

"I am not a child." You grit out. This makes things worse.

"You certainly act like it."

"I don't want to be spanked."

"Then you can stand in the corner, kneel on rice, or..." Or go back into that awful room with him as your only company until you break just slightly more. "Love, I hate doing this, you know I do, but I have to."

Diluc is delusional, you think as you resign to this. He helps you get comfortable on his lap. Your skirt lifted up and for moment, you think propriety may when out when he hesitates. He always does, and you're never sure if it's because he has view of your underwear and he thinks himself a gentleman or maybe he does have a conscience. One hand grips your tail to keep it out of the way. You want to bite his throat.

"We'll do ten. You count and you thank me."

The first strike is light, so maybe he'll go easy on you -

"One." you grumble. A pinch. "Thank you." Even if you have to force it out, it seems to appease him somewhat.

The second is harder.

"Two. Thank you." You consider biting him, consider remaining silent until he gives up. That doesn't work when he strikes twice, harder. "Three, four. Fuck -" You bite your tongue. "Thank you."

"I can add more." he says. "Use a paddle instead."

You shake your head.

"Behave." His words are said through grittes teeth. You might make him crack eventually. Another strike - he alternates between each once.

"Five, thank you. Six, thank you." There are tears burning at your eyes now - maybe not from the pain, maybe it's how humiliating this is. "Seven! I'm sorry."

"I know love." Another hit. You don't want to.

"E-eight. Thank you."

The ninth is painful, he seems to have used a bit of his pyro vision on you because it burns and you jostle, freezing when you feel his erection press against you. Fucker is turned on by this. He gets off to this.

You hate -

"Love?" he prompts. "We'll start over."

"No! Nine - nine! I'm sorry." You sob. Anything to not keep this going.

A soft sigh. "You were forgiven awhile ago." One final strike - the pyro hurts so much but it's not enough to actually burn you. But you know sitting will be hard.

The final strike.

"Ten. Thank you."

Diluc seems pleased by your change of attitude - weepy and clingy, not so much squirming to get away. You used to curse him out, especially when he'd grab and hold your tail while he spanked you.

He gently extracts you from him, going to grab a cool compress from the en suite bathroom. It stings a little but not bad. You ignore his praises and sweet words of comfort.

"My love, if you wanted to go outside, you could have just asked." Diluc is bad at comforting and you hate him. He loves you - thinks he does.

"You would have said no." You bite out. "You always do."

"It's-"

"I don't care. Leave me alone."

Diluc lets out a heavy sigh and leans down, kisses your cheek. He stays, regardless. So you ignore him, you count loose threads, you stare at the window with disdain. Anything to avoid looking at Diluc. You reject aftercare because if he continues to touch you, praise you, you might start believing him.

"I'm sorry." He mutters as he gets up. "You're precious - you...need to be protected. One day, you'll understand." At the door, he looks at you. "I will be up to have dinner with you in a few hours. Do try to lose the attitude."

And the door closes behind him. In your only act of pathetic defiance, you toss a pillow at it. It harsly relieves you of your anger.

[pavosnoctua]

cw: yandere, demi-human reader, afab reader, mentions of isolation, spanking, diluc's savior complex, forced/arranged marriage. mdni.

let me know if i missed a warnining!

All he can do is offer...empty apologies - especially when you look at him with wide eyes and ears flattened against your head. You used to attack him at one point, now it's just fearful resignation.

You screwed up - why do you keep thinking you can escape? The man has eyes and ears everywhere. What you say and do, never go unnoticed or unheard of by him. Your heats are promptly taken care of, your attempts to slip out the window meant it being sealed shut. Your cruel words are repeated back to you - always called tantrums.

"My love."

"I'm not -" It's no use, no point. He wishes to call you that, live in his delusions. "I missed the sun." Your voice is weak. "I just wanted to feel the sun." Because running away is impossible in clothes made of thin fabric, intending for you to simply be on display for him. It wouldn't stop you from trying again though.

"I know." Diluc sounds remorseful as he sits down on the bed - your stomach sinks. "You bit one of the maids though."

"She startled me." You offer, lamely. You wanted to apologize but couldn't because Diluc caught wind of this too quickly - intervened too quickly. It has been him you wished you'd bit.

Diluc says nothing as he beckons for you to come closer and you shake your head at first. Even if there's no instrument involved, his open palm feels far more humiliating. Being spanked is humiliating.

"I am not a child." You grit out. This makes things worse.

"You certainly act like it."

"I don't want to be spanked."

"Then you can stand in the corner, kneel on rice, or..." Or go back into that awful room with him as your only company until you break just slightly more. "Love, I hate doing this, you know I do, but I have to."

Diluc is delusional, you think as you resign to this. He helps you get comfortable on his lap. Your skirt lifted up and for moment, you think propriety may when out when he hesitates. He always does, and you're never sure if it's because he has view of your underwear and he thinks himself a gentleman or maybe he does have a conscience. One hand grips your tail to keep it out of the way. You want to bite his throat.

"We'll do ten. You count and you thank me."

The first strike is light, so maybe he'll go easy on you -

"One." you grumble. A pinch. "Thank you." Even if you have to force it out, it seems to appease him somewhat.

The second is harder.

"Two. Thank you." You consider biting him, consider remaining silent until he gives up. That doesn't work when he strikes twice, harder. "Three, four. Fuck -" You bite your tongue. "Thank you."

"I can add more." he says. "Use a paddle instead."

You shake your head.

"Behave." His words are said through grittes teeth. You might make him crack eventually. Another strike - he alternates between each once.

"Five, thank you. Six, thank you." There are tears burning at your eyes now - maybe not from the pain, maybe it's how humiliating this is. "Seven! I'm sorry."

"I know love." Another hit. You don't want to.

"E-eight. Thank you."

The ninth is painful, he seems to have used a bit of his pyro vision on you because it burns and you jostle, freezing when you feel his erection press against you. Fucker is turned on by this. He gets off to this.

You hate -

"Love?" he prompts. "We'll start over."

"No! Nine - nine! I'm sorry." You sob. Anything to not keep this going.

A soft sigh. "You were forgiven awhile ago." One final strike - the pyro hurts so much but it's not enough to actually burn you. But you know sitting will be hard.

The final strike.

"Ten. Thank you."

Diluc seems pleased by your change of attitude - weepy and clingy, not so much squirming to get away. You used to curse him out, especially when he'd grab and hold your tail while he spanked you.

He gently extracts you from him, going to grab a cool compress from the en suite bathroom. It stings a little but not bad. You ignore his praises and sweet words of comfort.

"My love, if you wanted to go outside, you could have just asked." Diluc is bad at comforting and you hate him. He loves you - thinks he does.

"You would have said no." You bite out. "You always do."

"It's-"

"I don't care. Leave me alone."

Diluc lets out a heavy sigh and leans down, kisses your cheek. He stays, regardless. So you ignore him, you count loose threads, you stare at the window with disdain. Anything to avoid looking at Diluc. You reject aftercare because if he continues to touch you, praise you, you might start believing him.

"I'm sorry." He mutters as he gets up. "You're precious - you...need to be protected. One day, you'll understand." At the door, he looks at you. "I will be up to have dinner with you in a few hours. Do try to lose the attitude."

And the door closes behind him. In your only act of pathetic defiance, you toss a pillow at it. It harsly relieves you of your anger.

[pavosnoctua]

cw: yandere, isolation, forced imprisonment, kidnapping mentions, mdni. diluc and his complex. mentions of phys. harm but not from diluc. dubcon ment. pregnancy ment. afab reader. slight ooc on dilucs end.

blank blogs and minors dni

not my best work but the plot bunnies were working (part two might come)

You don't sleep often anymore and it worries him - you pace late at night, mumbling to yourself like some madwoman and he thinks of hiring the best physicians to see if you are okay. But the last time he did that, that had you upset and telling him to fuck off. He'd saved you, he tells himself, from the people who hit and made you cry.

Diluc misses your energy now - your spark, the thing that vindicated him and irritated him and...the only reminder you were still alive.

"Beloved, it is late." he tells you, unable to avert his eyes from your bosom, swallowing heavily as a familiar hunger overtakes him. Indecently dressed - no, appropriately dressed for bed time. But yet...he makes a mental note to have the maids get rid of all these outfits that show off too much.

Nobody else is allowed to see you in such clothes if you insist on pacing the halls like some poltergeist. You do not respond, only stepping past him to continue your nightly, hours long path.

"Bed, my beloved. You will see the sun in the morning."

"I can't sleep." you tell him, bluntly. "I cannot go outside, you have me under lock and key - I simply wish to move about."

"I allow you to help Adelinde with the chores indoors." he argues and draws in a deep breath. No - no, he won't fall for your bait. The bait that has you feeling self righteous and angrier, ammo for arguments later. "Is that not enough?"

"No! It's barely anything! Dusting here and there, organize the shelves. You never have me do tasks that could cause even just a bruise!" You're tired, sleep deprived. Energetic, yet feeling sluggish and exhausted.

And Diluc stares at you. It's a disconnected thought.

"Come back to bed with me love, we'll figure it out." There's distrust in your eyes but you obey, because arguing while you're tired gives him an advantage. Archons, forgive him because you won't.

When your head hits the pillow after you accept a drink from him - resigned, accepting, incapable of fighting at this time - he's relieved to find that you're even more tired.

"Love, I know a way to...get what we both want." Archons, forgive him.

"If - if we have sex," you murmur, understanding in your tired state. "Will I earn more privileges?"

"Yes." It's half a lie.

And he repeats, Archons forgive him.

Diluc marvels at your wet heat at first penetration - he wants to stay like this but can't. If this goes on too long, you will get upset. At least, for now, he has you.

Your privileges come with how much you're willing to agree to - and outside is precious, so you agree to a lot. You still barely sleep, but your pacing as stopped and he has you in his arms every night.

Your mouth is always soft and warm, and the perfumes from your baths are always enticing for him - his favorite scents. How he adores you.

Red marks on your neck - you complain he bites too much. You complain about him cumming inside. But you moan sweetly for him. Nicely. Desperately. Your breasts are starting to swell and there's all the telltale signs.

And yet -

All good things come to an end - when you are in tears as your growing belly, all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Diluc is elated. He's always wanted children.

He ignores your little no's as he kisses you more - after all, your freedom has come at a price and he is not a man who breaks promises.

[gunmetallic]

i hope you find what you're looking for

☁  blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁  reader is afab and goes by she/her. alpha/omega dynamics. blade helps you out during your heat, calls you “girl” “sweet girl” “baby”, consent is sexy and blade is very adamant about it. reader is jing yuan’s assistant. ☁  A/N: i cannot get sweet gentle blade off my mind after that car scene and this fic is what happened ☁ 5k words

“Watch where you’re going, miss.”

His hands fall to your waist as your back crashes against his front, attempting to blink away the frazzled state you’re in. Despite his warm hands, his touch feels like the first gulp of ice cold water on the hottest day.

Alpha, your head wants to reel. It’s sickening sweet, the way your slick pools at just a whiff of his scent.

It’s even worse when you turn around and realize who it is. Even with the mask and the sunglasses (does he really think that helps?), your heart drops.

Blade. The Stellaron Hunter who escaped from the Shackling Prison less than an hour ago.

Aeons, this really is the worst day to be getting your heat, isn’t it?

Blade immediately retracts his hands when he realizes your state. He’s been alive too many years to need to run away before his body starts reacting, but he’s still — at least partially — human. Your scent is sweet, almost needy, has his biology wanting to follow you wherever you go.

You whine at the loss of contact, your hand immediately slapping across your mouth as you come to terms with what just happened.

“I-“

“No need to apologize, it’s perfectly natural.”

This little alleyway is only used by those working with the Divine Foresight, and in the middle of a work day, nobody is walking through it. Nobody was supposed to walk through it. Maybe you should’ve figured a long lived, previously acclaimed man like him would’ve known about it and used it.

That thought would’ve been way more helpful when you were trying to track his movements earlier.

Blade’s in no rush. He hasn’t been for a long time. The time will pass anyways, after all. Elio makes no mistakes in his script, so he’s sure whatever happens here won’t affect the later situation. It’s whether you’re in the right mind state to know what’s happening, that’s his biggest concern.

“You’re-! You know rightfully, I should cuff you and bring you back to the Shackling Prison.” You try to be stern, but your core turns, causing you to buckle forward. Blade swiftly reaches across to hold you up.

“I… can help you get close to a medical bay. If your mind is still clear-“

“My mind is perfectly coherent,” you snap, and then your face immediately winces with regret. He might be a so-called criminal, but it’s not like he’s hurt you personally, and Jing Yuan strangely but oh-so-kindly asked for your understanding of him. “It only started today. My mind won’t fog until at least tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Hold up. You’re a criminal. On the run. And you want to help me get to a med bay? Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, running away?”

“All will come to be as it should.”

You roll your eyes. It’s like when Jing Yuan tells Fu Xuan that it’s “not her time” with some fancy words.

Blade rephrases. “I have nowhere to be, as of right now.”

You feel your knees threatening to buckle, wincing as your hand squeezes Blade’s shoulder tight. If it affects him, his face doesn’t show it.

“Fine. Since you’re the nicest criminal looking to be a Samaritan, please help me get home. It’s not far from here.”

~

Blade is surprisingly patient, even bothers to remove his shoes before coming into the house, gracefully placing you on your sofa.

“Thank you, wanted criminal.”

He scoffs at that, but nods politely. His sunglasses and mask are tucked somewhere away now, no need for them since you know exactly who he is.

There’s a beat of silence. He should leave. He’s done his job. But you’re an omega in distress, alone. And the worst part is, you’re not doing anything.

You’re not grabbing items to make a nest, or calling an alpha, or taking any medication. Are you waiting for him to leave? You likely would’ve said something, given your clear ability to clip back. Your scent most certainly tells him to stay, but he knows better than most what it’s like to be a prisoner to your own physical body, in more ways than one.

All you do is grip at the edge of the sofa and stare at your coffee table, like an endangered animal with nowhere to go.

Maybe it’s his biology talking, but he somehow feels like he should do something.

“Is there anything else you need?”

It’s your turn to scoff, doing your best to shake off your mind. “Wow, you really are nice.” You remove your shoes, slotting them under the couch for later. And then your eyes narrow. “Or were you just looking for a pretty little omega to fuck, hm?”

If this were any other situation, he would’ve taken this opportunity to turn on his heel and leave right out the door, but something about the situation prickles at the back of his neck.

“Is this your first time handling a heat?” He asks directly.

You wince at that, wrapping a throw blanket over yourself. “No… Is it that obvious?” You sigh, bringing your knees towards yourself and pressing them against your chest. “I’ve been on suppressants for a long time.”

Blade gives you your options sincerely. “There’s an app. For those in your predicament. Otherwise, you might want to consider a nest. If you have painkillers on you, that could help too. I’ve heard it’s not much help, but it’s better than nothing.”

You breathe. “Nest. Right.” Your eyes scatter around, holding the blanket around you tight. You look like you want to get up and then you don’t, mind volleying between thoughts and decisions that end up leaving you nowhere. Blade’s chest can’t help but tighten at how lost you look.

“May I?” he asks for permission to step further into your home.

What a criminal, you want to remark. But the way your heart is pumping both from the stress and the heat within you just has you nodding. He opens your bedroom door before walking back towards you and carefully picking you up, slowly, like he’s giving you every chance to interject. To your surprise, you let him, the omega inside of you feels like it’s almost cooing at his embrace. He places you down on the armchair in the corner, washing his hands in the bathroom before taking your blanket and bunching it up in a circular motion, propping up your pillows around it.

“Okay. This is a good start. Add things that bring you comfort around you. If you like soft toys, or something like that. If you’re up to it, it would be ideal for you to shower and get into something comfortable.”

Your scent peaks, making him turn around. Your knees are tucked close to you once more, your eyes glassy. You can feel yourself descending into something, more quickly than you realized.

“Whilst I’m still coherent… I would…” you swallow, your throat feels like you’ve drunken something sweet and forgot to drink water before falling sleep. “I would appreciate if you stayed. Since you said you’re not doing anything. Not that I’m pressuring you. Your scent is…” you feel your face get hot, but Blade just nods.

“I’ll be just outside.”

~

It’s perfectly normal.

Okay, that’s not the right word. Maybe more like, it’s perfectly natural. To ask an alpha to stay with you during your heat. There’s apps for that. That’s what Blade said, right?

The shower water beats over your skin as you lightly scrub it.

Definitely not embarrassing. Or strange. Even if he is a wanted criminal. What was it, something like 8 billion credits? Would Jing Yuan even give you that if you turned him back in?

You press the edge of your palm against your eyebrow. His scent, like the woods and bergamot and faintly of incense. The wanted posters did not do him justice.

~

Blade presses a hand to his pants the moment he closes the door.

Your scent, sweeter than any sin, the glassy look in your eyes that you were so desperately blinking away, the way you gripped him as you gasped into his touch… He is not someone who struggles with self-control, but he can’t deny the way his member hardens.

He desperately tries to think. What do omegas need again? Medication. Something soft. Water.

He hears you enter the shower, the thought of you naked passes quickly in his mind, but has him gripping your doorknob tight all the same. You said something about his scent too, didn’t you? He removes his outerwear, shuffling back into your room to place it on the armchair. Just in case.

He spots your laundry hamper on his way out your room, and forces himself to look away before he gets carried away.

~

As he places a jug of water and a couple glasses on your bedside table, you chuck your hand holding a towel into his field of vision.

He doesn’t take it, instead curiously arches an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, fine, I’ll say it, since the shower cleared my mind. I am aware that you are a big bad criminal. And we’re both aware I’m in heat. But you’ve been nice. So this is my official invitation. Stay with me during it.”

“That sounds more like a demand.”

You push the towel into his hands, and this time he takes it. “We both know you’re perfectly capable of leaving here if you wanted.” You stomp back to your nest, courtesy of the handsome man in front of you, and wrap yourself into your blankets.

“The jacket gesture was nice,” you add, “but you’ve been in the Shackling Prison. Aeon knows what’s down there. So shower, and come back here.” Maybe he’s right. This does sound like a demand. “Is this arrangement… okay with you?”

The corner of Blade’s mouth upturns just a bit, but he steels himself for what he’s about to say. “I’m one of the most dangerous men the IPC has a bounty on. You’re clearly under the influence of your heat, which means we can’t be perfectly clear of your consent.”

“My mind is clear. I’m Jing Yuan’s assistant. You might be strong, but I can take a fight too. Also…” you flush with embarassment, “I have no idea what I’m doing. You clearly know more than me, and I’m guessing I’m about to get worse. Also… Jing Yuan may have told me to be nice to you even though you’re a criminal.”

Blade laughs at that, a warm sound that hits straight to your core, your hand pressing against your stomach.

“You trust the General’s words that much?”

“There’s a lot going on right now! Just take the goddamn shower!” You chuck a pillow at him, which he catches with ease and throws back.

A closer whiff of your scent has him swallowing a noise in his throat. He rationalizes that he surely can’t leave you in the hands of a random Alpha who might take advantage of your lack of knowledge, especially not someone so close to Jing Yuan.

~

“Alphas can act more… barbaric, shall we say, the heavier an omega’s heat gets. You have to fight and say it straight if you don’t want anything, you understand?”

Maybe you should’ve thought this through a little more before, because now you certainly can’t. Blade is wearing nothing except the towel you gave him wrapped low around his waist, his muscles clear and evident, scars littering his body like streaks of comets. He’s stunning.

He watches you ogle him, sighing as he cups your face gently in his palm, forcing your gaze to his face.

“Did you hear me, girl?”

And oh, maybe that’s a mistake on his part, because the moment you make eye contact with him, his breath catches. Your lips are still slick with the water you’ve been drinking, your pupils widened and full of lust. That blank look that is clearly only thinking of him. How long has it been for Blade too, since he’s had a moment like this with someone else? Centuries? Your omega scent fills the air at the skin-to-skin contact, and it makes him feel like you’re a siren pulling him in.

He can see your mind working, doing your best to force your brain to think. “I’ll tell you. I will.”

It’s only then that Blade sits in your nest with you. He notices the way you lean into him, until your head rests against his shoulder, breathing his smoky scent in.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Blade chuckles. “My only concern is being able to control myself through this.”

You reach for him, press your face closer to his, until your noses are touching. He lets you lead, wants you to lead, so that he knows exactly what it is you want and what you’re okay with.

And you do, your mouth pressing against his, getting the first drink of what he has to offer. He thinks he could drown in you like this. His hand moves to the small of your back, his lips gentle and slow as they move against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and then you’re pulling him in, and it’s like a dam that breaks open. He’s careful not to rest his whole weight on you, one hand propping himself up against your headboard, even as you squeeze your arms tighter. You didn’t realize heats could feel like this, having someone with you to hold as it sinks you in deeper. You bring your nose to the scent gland at his neck, kissing it lightly, and your scent that fllls the room in return has him making a noise akin to a growl as he presses his hand into your waist.

“Careful, girl,” he warns, but you don’t care. God, you don’t care. You feel your heat settling into your body deeper, slick pooling between your legs as you wrap them around his waist. You’re sure he can smell it, especially from the way he tries to still you.

“Mm, a little fast, don’t you think?” His teeth nips at your ear as your hands trail down his chest, over his back, the bumps from scarring only making it clearer to your heat-addled brain that he’s strong, a strong alpha.

“It’s your-,” your words die down before you can say them. It’s your job to keep us in check, you want to say. But your body starts to warm uncomfortably. Blade runs a hand up and down your torso, thumb pressing circles against your waist. Your eyebrows cinch together, kicking of the sheets yet wanting the comfort of them close to you.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’s called a heat for a reason.” He kisses your cheek gently, like a lover. You chase his lips, bringing him in for another kiss.

“You don’t feel hot,” you tell him as you break away, confused. Strangely enough, Blade’s body doesn’t add to your irritating warmth. If anything, it feels like the only relief. His body is warm, but where he touches you tingles softly, staving off the heaviness.

“Mm, that’s because I’m taking care of you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, dangerously close to nipping at your scent gland, before descending down your collarbone. His hands move under your shirt, a reprieve from the sweat that’s starting to sheenson your skin. You want to beg him like he’s a god to release you from the cage your heated body has become. Instead, you remove your shirt, pulling him into you once more, his skin against yours like a reverence.

He continues to kiss at the skin he’s been given access to, one hand moving to your breast, cupping it from below and pinching at your nipple. You arch into his touch, and his mind immediately goes to the thought of you arching your back as he presses his member into you.

He wants more. He wants so, so much more.

Does he dare let himself indulge? His thoughts flitter away as you release him from the death grip your arms had him in, allowing him to descend his mouth down to your breasts, to kiss at the skin, teeth scraping lightly over a nipple, his hands skating over your stomach and to the waistband of your pants.

You’re sobbing into him now, somehow he’s skin to skin with you and it feels like it’s not nearly close enough. Your head feels full of cotton, his body and the feeling of his wet tongue lapping at you, lips wrapping around your nipple, encompassing you so fully you sometimes forget to breathe.

You tap his shoulder as he kisses down your stomach, and he looks up at you with curious eyes.

“Can’t- can’t take it,” you heave, hands stroking his hair. “Take me now,” your thighs tighten around him. “Need- I need”

“No.”

His answer is so clipped that it shocks you, and you’re almost distracted by him removing your pants from you, leaving your soft panties for his view.

“Wha- Blade,” you sigh his name, you meant for it to be a scolding, but then he’s kissing right above the waistband of your panties and you feel the air rush out of you all too delicately. “You- don’t you want-”

“This is about what you want.”

“I just told you what I want!”

“You’re not ready.” His words are almost a whisper now, voice gruff between your legs, his hair tickling the inside of your thighs as he presses his nose to your clothed core and breathes you in. God, he feels like an animal, his member hardening at just the scent of your slick. Don’t you know he’s already holding back? Don’t you know the way you’re beckoning him to give it to you now is more torture for him than it is for you?

“What? Blade, you can’t be serious.”

He grunts. “I’m serious.” His saliva coats his mouth, gripping your thighs a little tighter. “May I?”

“God, Blade, yes. Do whatever you’re gonna do since you’re not gonna-”

He relishes in the way your breath catches and the words fall out of your mouth the moment he laps his wet tongue over your clothed core. The sound you let out is a wrecked thing.

You distinctly hear a ripping sound, the material giving way against your skin and chucked somewhere behind him.

“Blade!”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he groans, and then his tongue is pressed against your folds and oh, it’s like heaven’s greatest sin, so close to the relief you so desperately want. He doesn’t sound any better, moans falling from his lips that are pressed against your core, purposefully wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing them towards his face so he can have you all around him, your skin and scent and sweat only adding to the way he has to grind his hips into your bed.

You intertwine your fingers with his, gripping tight, and he can’t help but feel his heart lurch a little at how cute the gesture is. You know exactly who he is, but the way you’re gasping his name asking him for more, more makes him feel like less of a monster and more like a lover, your lover.

He swallows every drop of pearly wetness you afford him, his suckles over your folds slowly growing more desperate. He wants to breathe you in, drink you up, give you all he can. He settles with splitting your folds with his tongue, flicking your clit over and over again, gripping your thighs tight, and mumbling into your skin about how “you’re so pretty like this, wanna watch you make a mess on my face” between breaths.

He doesn’t have to wait long, your grip on his hand gets tighter with each lather of his wet muscle, your core tightening as you try your best to tell him that you’re close, so close.

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna give it to me?” he whispers against your skin, lips glistening as they delve back in. “Go ahead then, show me how pretty you look when you cum.”

He watches you as you cum, letting out a broken moan, your thighs pressing against the sides of his face impossibly tighter, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. You sob as your hips thrust into his face, his hands never letting yours go, tongue working you through every shock of your orgasm. He does his best to savor every drop. It’s for him, because of him, after all.

You’re shocked he’s still going when you come back to, your thrashing going from intense pleasure to overstimulation, your hands pushing against his in an attempt to get away from the way he’s still sucking on your clit.

“Too much! Blade, I’m so sensitive, it’s so much, oh, gods.”

“Mm,” he acknowledges you, but doesn’t let up, still holding your legs tight against himself. He’s not done, doesn’t want to be.

“Blade, BladeBladeBlade, I can’t, I really can’t, wha-“ Something shifts inside of you, and the feeling is like being choked, your lungs out of breath and desperately trying to take in air as the pain gives way to pleasure. Every wave feels like a drug, so quick to become putty in his hands as he drags you to another orgasm. This time it’s slower to build, but so much more intense, your body uncontrollable as it tenses harshly, gripping his hair, and you come undone on his tongue once more.

“Blade, holy, what-“ you try to catch your breath, desperate for each gulp of air you take in.

He groans in satisfaction, his grin carnivorous as he swipes his tongue over his lips, wiping the excess with the back of his hand.

“Good girl. Came so well for me, didn’t you?” His smirk is evident, canines pressing down just slightly against his tongue. He peppers kisses against your inner thigh.

“Gods, Blade. Just-“ your legs shake as you attempt to reel him in, grabbing his hand with yours, and this time he lets you, kissing you deep, his tongue grazing against the back of your teeth.

You lay your hand flat against his abs, sliding them down until your fingertips reach the towel, haphazardly pulling it off. He draws in a sharp breath at the feeling of the cool air on his member, pressing his hand down to your waist. His mind reels with just the thought of having you, the thought of his cock sliding into you, lubricated by your slick and his spit.

When he pulls his lips away from yours, you finally get to look at him, your hand wrapping around his dick as he exhales a soft ‘mm’.

You pump your hand up once, twice, before he’s taking your hand in his and putting it away.

“Blade, please. You’re so hard,” you’re sure between your legs is shiny with your slick and his spit. He doesn’t falter anymore, pressing your thighs back towards your chest, lining himself up with his cunt, gritting his teeth as the sensitive head catches against your folds.

“You’re-,” he grips your thighs a little harder, steeling himself against you. “Stay still, girl.”

“Please.”

“I’m getting there*.”*

“You’ve been teasing me for hours-”

“You’ve cum twice. Don’t make me show you what teasing really looks like.” He finally presses himself into you, a short intake of breath passes through his teeth as the head slips in. He plays with you, he has to be, sliding in and out of you, giving you just a little more each time.

You’re gripping his shoulders, pulling his body close to yours, his grunts so soft you might almost miss them if his mouth wasn’t against your ear. You’re faring no better, pressed chest to chest against him as he sinks into you.

“Oh,” you gasp, and he grunts in return, his forehead pressing against yours so he can watch and feel your every reaction. His hand grips the headboard, the wood creaks as if it’s about to give in to him, trying his damn best not to slam into you like he knows he wants to. He sheaths himself in whole, finally, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. It feels downright cruel, the way you grip around him, your pretty whines against his ear.

“Are you-”

“Please,” you beg him, because nothing has ever felt so right and you think you might die if he doesn’t give it to you.

He huffs. “You’re not gonna die, baby. I’ll give it to you.”

“Well hurry up with it or I might,” you tilt your hips up, trying to move under his weight but he’s heavy, pinning you down and yet it’s exactly what you need. He moves off of you slightly only to bring his hands behind your knees, pressing them to your chest, and there’s a moment where you’re not really sure where he’s going with this until he-

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, and then he’s slamming into you hard. “Wanted to make this easy for you, ease you in, but you just had to go and be a brat.” You think your mind bluescreens from the pleasure-pain of his cock sliding all the way out to the tip only to press back into you, ramming against your cervix with every other press of his hips against yours, your heat coiling like a serpent in your core, like the slow drip of syrup through your body.

He brings his hand down between your bodies, fingers tapping against your clit. “Taking my cock so well, aren’t you?” His voice is low and heavy, and all you can do is say his name in return. “You’re a good little omega, aren’t you baby? Good girl, good fucking girl.”

You thought he’d be quiet, but something about his cock inside of you has the words tumbling out of his mouth. You can both feel his knot starting to swell, the heat of it making him sweat, the way it widens right at the base. It makes his hips stutter, more desperate, prevents him from sliding out all the way like he was before so he fucks you faster.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Your legs are over his shoulder now, one hand running circles over your clit, the other making its way around your neck. He doesn’t choke you, doesn’t press down, only holds you there as a show of power, but something about it has you arching your back into him.

He thinks it’s dangerous, makes him feel like you belong to him.

“Wanna cum around your cock,” you whisper to him in return, and he grunts.

“Yeah?” He smirks, but it’s gentle, almost like a smile, a soft upturn at the corner of his mouth. “Been aching for an alpha’s cock inside of you, haven’t you?”

“Just yours,” you tell him, your fingernails scratching at the nape of his neck. The confession has him pressing his teeth right next to your scent gland, making a mark where you can’t hide.

“This pussy belongs to me now, then,” he says it like something between a demand and a prayer. You gasp yes into his ear as you get closer to the edge, teetering off it. “Show me how my pussy cums for me. Cum around my cock, baby. You’ve been aching for it, haven’t you?” You can feel the pulse of his knot, his adam apple jumping as he swallows, mouth dry. “Go ahead and cum for me then.”

It’s your alpha’s order, your body follows like it responds only to his demands, it feels like it’s being ripped out of you as your chest presses against his and your mind goes blank, your slick gushing around his knot. He’s only seconds behind, spilling into you with a groan, his face in your shoulder, his nose against your scent gland so he can memorize the sweetness of you right at your peak.

It’s with a deep intake of breath that you both relax. He’s careful to position his body next to yours, to make sure he doesn’t crush you, even as his cock stays inside of you, his knot still slightly swollen. He swipes your hair back, thumb tracing over your hairline as he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then presses his lips against yours for something saccharine sweet. You let him, drinking him in.

“Stay,” you tell him, and he chuckles, because it’s still more of an order than a request.

“Still got attitude,” he holds you close, rolling both of you over so you’re lying on top of him. “Not going anywhere, baby. Relax.”

“For my whole heat. Take my number too, while you’re at it.” Your words slur together, but the genuinity shows in your eyes.

“I’m a wanted criminal.” He says frankly.

“Oh yeah? Should’ve- fuck- should’ve told me that earlier. It’s almost like there’s a wanted poster on every street of you.”

“It doesn’t look like me.” He rakes a hand through your hair, his other massages the soreness in your thigh.

“Why’d Jing Yuan let you go anyways?”

“You wanna say another man’s name with my dick still inside of you?”

“Ah, sorry, so possessive. I think it’s going down now.” You lift yourself off of it slowly, and Blade watches with reverence as his seed slips out of you, milky white. He catches it on his fingers, pressing it back.

“S-Sensitive,” your nails press into his chest, and he kisses your shoulder in apology.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Can’t move.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“We just showered.”

“Just a rinse. Then I’ll add your number, okay?”

“Okay.”

[pavosnoctua]

cw: yandere, isolation, forced imprisonment, kidnapping mentions, mdni. diluc and his complex. mentions of phys. harm but not from diluc. dubcon ment. pregnancy ment. afab reader. slight ooc on dilucs end.

blank blogs and minors dni

not my best work but the plot bunnies were working (part two might come)

You don't sleep often anymore and it worries him - you pace late at night, mumbling to yourself like some madwoman and he thinks of hiring the best physicians to see if you are okay. But the last time he did that, that had you upset and telling him to fuck off. He'd saved you, he tells himself, from the people who hit and made you cry.

Diluc misses your energy now - your spark, the thing that vindicated him and irritated him and...the only reminder you were still alive.

"Beloved, it is late." he tells you, unable to avert his eyes from your bosom, swallowing heavily as a familiar hunger overtakes him. Indecently dressed - no, appropriately dressed for bed time. But yet...he makes a mental note to have the maids get rid of all these outfits that show off too much.

Nobody else is allowed to see you in such clothes if you insist on pacing the halls like some poltergeist. You do not respond, only stepping past him to continue your nightly, hours long path.

"Bed, my beloved. You will see the sun in the morning."

"I can't sleep." you tell him, bluntly. "I cannot go outside, you have me under lock and key - I simply wish to move about."

"I allow you to help Adelinde with the chores indoors." he argues and draws in a deep breath. No - no, he won't fall for your bait. The bait that has you feeling self righteous and angrier, ammo for arguments later. "Is that not enough?"

"No! It's barely anything! Dusting here and there, organize the shelves. You never have me do tasks that could cause even just a bruise!" You're tired, sleep deprived. Energetic, yet feeling sluggish and exhausted.

And Diluc stares at you. It's a disconnected thought.

"Come back to bed with me love, we'll figure it out." There's distrust in your eyes but you obey, because arguing while you're tired gives him an advantage. Archons, forgive him because you won't.

When your head hits the pillow after you accept a drink from him - resigned, accepting, incapable of fighting at this time - he's relieved to find that you're even more tired.

"Love, I know a way to...get what we both want." Archons, forgive him.

"If - if we have sex," you murmur, understanding in your tired state. "Will I earn more privileges?"

"Yes." It's half a lie.

And he repeats, Archons forgive him.

Diluc marvels at your wet heat at first penetration - he wants to stay like this but can't. If this goes on too long, you will get upset. At least, for now, he has you.

Your privileges come with how much you're willing to agree to - and outside is precious, so you agree to a lot. You still barely sleep, but your pacing as stopped and he has you in his arms every night.

Your mouth is always soft and warm, and the perfumes from your baths are always enticing for him - his favorite scents. How he adores you.

Red marks on your neck - you complain he bites too much. You complain about him cumming inside. But you moan sweetly for him. Nicely. Desperately. Your breasts are starting to swell and there's all the telltale signs.

And yet -

All good things come to an end - when you are in tears as your growing belly, all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Diluc is elated. He's always wanted children.

He ignores your little no's as he kisses you more - after all, your freedom has come at a price and he is not a man who breaks promises.

[pavosnoctua]

hunt

minors do not interact, ageless blogs do not interact

for @goxjo's Into the Omegaverse event!

cw: yandere, manipulation, abuse of power, non-con, afab!reader but very little pronouns used, pet names (princess, love, darling, honey), imbalanced power dynamics, stalking, general fucked up relationships, A/B/O, Alpha!Diluc, Omega!Reader, knotting, i did some very mild worldbuilding for this idek man, forced breeding, heat cycles, drugging, dacryphilia, unrealistic sex slight choking, some physical violence, modern day AU, extremely unhealthy “relationship”. I do not condone beliefs nor behaviors Diluc exhibits in this. not sfw

VERY DD:DNE

summary: You are an Omega with large dreams, and you proudly tell Diluc that you want to change the world. Diluc, however, has different ideas for you.

if i am missing a warning, please let me know!

When he first met you, it felt like an instant connection - like you two belong together. Or better, like you belonged to him. Diluc had never felt this way before about anyone - every Omega he had come across never so much received his attention that rumors had started to circulate about him, that perhaps his father had lied when he was born and he was simply a Beta masquerading as an Alpha. And Diluc had begun wondering the same himself, even with his baser instincts, he had no pull towards any Omega.

But your scent was sweet when you graced his office with a kind smile and an earnestness that dug at him. You were just a fresh faced journalist, such a pure thing - untouched, chatty, but not nervous. You'd told him that you wanted to change the world for the better, so that Omegas could live a life without an Alpha at their side and without having to get an Alpha's permission to simply live and exist.

That's cute is what he'd think to himself in the beginning.

"You have big dreams then." Is what he said out loud and you smiled a bit, but it wasn't as bright at first. He said the wrong thing. Diluc swallows. Somehow, Omegas are difficult to talk to - more sensitive, more emotional. "I mean - it's not that I don't -"

"It's not that you don't support it, but Omegas are at a disadvantage." You complete the sentence for him - speaking the words he did not want to say out of fear of offending you. "Silly Alpha, change doesn't happen overnight but it'll happen. Watch me." You talk to him as if he's an old friend and not some millionaire you were tasked to interview.

You are a challenge. And Diluc realizes he loves challenges.

He'd looked you up - Kaeya called it stalking, he calls it research. Somehow, he had managed to pull your number from somewhere, considered texting you - calling you, something before realizing that maybe his adoptive brother was onto something with such a strong word. It could put you off if he did, so instead, he goes the alternative route.

He emails you, asking if you'd be up for brunch or dinner. Something, anything, to get that sweet scent back. Anything to see that bright eyed look, the grin on your face, hear the challenge in your voice. Diluc hungers.

Much to his surprise, you'd accepted and chose a place. It's your favorite, is what you'd said in your email, where you'd attached a little smiley face. You might not like it, Mr. Ragnivindr, it's not one of those rich places.

That's okay, he tells himself and you. He can try anything just once.

The food here is greasy and gross to him but it goes well and you tease him for thinking about the idea of brunch - you're not rich like him, brunch is a rich person's thing. And Diluc accepts your little teasing jabs before realizing that the sweet scent isn't there, or well, it is but it's very much subdued. You're on suppressants and that bothers him.

If you were his Omega, he would not allow for such a thing.

Diluc swallows that thought, forces a smile and engages in conversation with you. You have many interests, many activities you like to engage in that you shouldn't, in his opinion. You're a delicate Omega, you shouldn't be rock climbing. Your soft hands should not feel such a coarseness. You boast about being able to drink your Alpha friend under the table and that's unbecoming of a proper Omega.

Each and every date after that gives him glimpses into your life - you do struggle paycheck to paycheck. But that never seems to deter you from anything. He could take care of you, if you were his.

If you were his.

You could be his.

(Planning has always been an expertise of his. He is a very patient man.)

And here you are - disoriented, tired, and oh so pliable.

"Good morning." You stare at him with exhaustion in your pretty eyes, your soft lips parted to talk but no words come out. "I'm sorry you're likely not feeling very good. I think you drank a lot last night."

You swallow - he watches the lump in your throat bob and all Diluc can think about is biting that neck. Marking you as his in ways that just cannot be undone. He hungers, how he hungers.

"Wh-what?" You groan as you sit up, rubbing your forehead. "I don't remember going out last night. I had - I had a report to write."

"You do not need to worry about such things." Diluc tells you, and the look on your face tells him that you're not that stupid, but you are confused. "Not while you're here." That seems to pacify the worry that must be running through your mind, and he does feel some modicum of guilt as he watches you collapse back on the bed. Your chest slowly rises and falls. You're prettier like this, he thinks. Asleep, vulnerable.

When you wake up again, it's late afternoon and you're panicked. Your footsteps pad hurriedly in the hallway, until you find him in his office, hunched over some paperwork. At least you have some ability to feel shame, with your expression and your head ducked down.

"Thank you for helping me, Mr. Ragnivindr. But I need to get going now."

Diluc looks at you. "Why not stay for lunch? You have yet to eat today." He can't have you go hungry, not when he's going to have you round with his pups. "

“I appreciate it but I have to go.” You tell him, the slight sense of fear hitting you in a way you never thought. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Stay.” He orders as if you were a dog, the command making you feel mildly annoyed. “Lunch will be ready soon. At least accept that.”

You draw in a breath and consider your hunger. Accepting help is a difficult thing.

Since you are going to be his, he will make sure you eat the best meals, have the best anything and everything you could ever want.

After an awkward lunch, where you don’t say much, Diluc humors you. You go to leave but the doors are locked from the inside and he has the key. There is a sick sense of satisfaction when you come to him, confused and worried.

You rally against him for a while - swearing, screaming, cursing. Behaviors he dislikes, behaviors an Omega should not exhibit. At first, he drugs your dinners - pacifies you well enough to make you sleep and stop screaming so much. The room he keeps you in, after you tried to escape by convincing one of the maids to let you out, is much nicer than that small apartment you had. Much better furnished too, so much so you can build a nest with anything you’d need. Blankets, stuffed animals, pillows - whatever you’d like.

All Diluc does is sit and accept it - calmly responding to your outbursts, not rising in the same heated fashion. It upsets you more.

One day, you do speak to him in a calmer manner - softer, maybe defeated.

“Diluc.” Your scent is sweet, it fills the air and he swallows. “I-I need my-”

“No,” he tells, firmly and watches you deflate. “My Omega does not need such a thing, you have me.” You shake your head.

“I’m not your Omega.” You argue. “You’re delusional.” Diluc sighs and leaves you be. He has other things to do at the moment, that don’t require arguing with someone so childish.

Your heat hits you a few days after - your pride does not allow you to deal with it nor ask him for help. But you’re miserable - hot, needy, maybe a bit nauseated. He stayed out the first day, accepting your demands for him to stay away from you. The second day had pillows thrown at him, shouting at him to leave you alone. You’d built your nest and it is a sacred place, but he ignores it.

“Let me help you.”

“All you do is hurt.” You respond and he clicks his tongue. Terrible choice of words. “Go away.”

He ignores you as he gently kisses you - you hit your fists against his chest but they’re too weak and don’t hurt. Diluc continues to kiss you everywhere, your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth, your neck - everywhere and anywhere and you still flail against him.

“I’m trying to help you.” He breathes, pulling away. “Please, let me help you, love. You’re such a mess.” He slides his hands underneath your dress, bunching it up as he trails them upwards and you go limp, allowing him to strip you. Diluc knows that every bit of your instinct is telling you to fight against him, but the pheromones he gives off is keeping you still. Or maybe you’ve given up for now.

Once your dress is off, he admires you as if you’re artwork - lovely, beautiful, needy. Diluc kisses the area just above your pelvic bone before ducking down between your legs and giving your slit a long, languid lick. You taste so nice, and the noise you make is like music to his ears. He focuses on your clit, altering between suckling at it and licking at it, carefully and gingerly slipping his fingers inside of you while you’re distracted.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly at times to find that spot that makes you gasp against his mouth and makes your fingers dig into his skin. He is a feral thing, desperate and hungry for more reactions out of you - more cries and mewls as he eats you out as if you were his last meal. There’s a cry from your lips as you come around his fingers, slick and glistening in the light. Diluc brings his fingers up to his lips and sucks on them, watching you with delight as you stare up at him with horror.

“Good girl.” He gently praises and you shake your head, trying to push him away but he easily pins you down with one hand. “We’re not done, princess.” You try to kick him but a slap across the face stills you - and Diluc is frowning down at you with disappointment. A finger strokes the stinging area on your cheek, before lips press against it. “I don’t want to have to do that again. Be good for me, okay? I promise you’ll feel very good.”

You whimper and he smiles - kissing your lips this time, allowing himself to devour for just a moment. Breathless, Diluc pulls away and quickly unbuttons and unbuckles his pants. He has to be inside of you now, his cock aches and your walls are wet and soft and spongy.

He bends one of your legs to your belly, glad you barely resist him now - watching your eyes squeeze shut as he guides his cock to your wet, needy entrance and slowly pushes in. Your hands pull at the blankets beneath you and he hums.

“Good girl, be good. You’ve got this.” His tender praises fall on deaf ears as you let out a cry - his size hurts and he has to force the rest of his cock inside of you. Your hands reach and grab at his shoulders, nails digging in and he groans. You’re so tight, you clench around him with need. For now, he lets you keep your eyes closed as he starts to move.

Every thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through him and it makes you gasp, he kisses your throat, teeth scraping against the tender skin. Diluc desires to mark you up everywhere - just so you remember who you belong to, as he’s definitely not letting you go after this. His pace starts to quicken, pounding into you without a second thought as you cry, wailing everytime he hits a sensitive spot inside of you.

“Look at me, princess.” Diluc rumbles, his voice deep with need. You don’t open your eyes. “I said look at me.” His hand is at your throat, fingers gently pressing against it and your eyes open. “Gonna put my pups in you and you’re gonna love it.” The knot at the base of his penis forms and you whine, coming hard at the feeling. Diluc is gentle as he kisses you, massaging every bruise, whispering tender words as you sob a bit as his cum fills you up. Lips hover above the spot where lovers would bite. And he bites down, pheromones filling the air and you whine. You’re forever bound to him now, and soon, the knot shrinks enough he can pull out. Semen slowly drips out of your used hole and you sob a bit as his fingers shove it back inside of you.

You think he’s done, that’s it but the smile he has tells you otherwise.

“We’ve got all night, my love. Let me prove to you how much I adore you.” At his words, he slams right back inside of you and you moan. There’s something inside of you that slowly realizes that you like this - it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth but you cling to him as he fucks you into the mattress without much regard now, his own rut taking over.

“You’ll be the best Omega in the world,” he groans. “For me, only for me.” He’s releasing inside of you again. “Princess, my sweet, sweet love, you’re so good for me.”

That’s all you can be.