Kinktober 01 - Kazuha + Orgasm Denial (afab Reader)

Title: Transfer of Ownership.

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

Word Count: 1.2k.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dragon hybrid zhongli who's fucking huge. He TOWERS over you with his horns, tail as thick as your leg and long forked tongue he just loves running all over and in you.

CW: fem!sub!reader + hybrid!zhongli + monsterfucking + size kink + forked tongue stuff + praise kink + the reader is a lovely little princess stuck in a tower with her big scary dragon

Dragon!Zhongli protecting his pretty, damsel in distress. His very own princess in her tall and mighty tower, guarding her against harm's way and making sure not a hair on her lovely head is ruined. You are just so angelic, so loving -- all by yourself, not another soul to keep you company except him. All for the sake of some fate, some destiny that a handsome prince will save you... except, that's hard with how well your dragon protects you.

But you much prefer Zhongli anyway! He is so nice to you and he sometimes lets you out of the castle when he deems it safe, supervising you as you explore the outside world, and always returning you to your room before it gets dark. He makes sure you have plenty to eat and clothes to wear, that you never go cold and never grow bored. You just adore him, and he finds it so endearing that someone so small and cute could like something as big and scary as him -- that you rush into his arms every chance you can get, begging him to take you outside or to sit in your room with you, pouting when he hesitates for even a second in his response.

Dragon!Zhongli who lets you sit in his big lap when the weather gets cold, keeping you nice and warm because his body is quite literally a furnace and in a matter of seconds that chill is gone and replaced with nothing but comfort. Who lets you pull him into your bed when the weather is bad, feigning fear all for the sake of him staying close through the night - he knows you are not genuinely scared, that you only crave affection, so he doesn't tease you about it too much.

Dragon!Zhongli who doesn't have the heart to tell you that, really, you can't be so clingy with him, don't you know you have a prince on the way? That he will inevitably have to surrender you just as the prophecy tells? But you confess that you want no prince, that you're tired of waiting on someone who isn't coming, that all you want is to stay with him in this stupid tower forever! That you wanna marry him instead of some man you hardly know!

Your confession shocks him, do you really mean it? You would prefer some scary dragon over a prince? He finds it cute how shy you get when admitting it, holding one of his huge hands in both of yours, your fingers barely wrapping around his pinky, and yet he swears your hands were made for his. You can barely meet his reptilian eyes, flustered beyond belief and wanting to show him just how deep your love goes, how much you adore him and worship the very ground he walks on. He can hardly believe it when you begin to untie the back of your dress, letting it fall gracefully to your ankles and exposing your body to him -- you want him to have all of you, every inch. You want him to make sure you truly belong to him, that way no one can ever steal you away. You want his cock to imprint on your womb, to stuff you full and train your cunt to take no one but him.

Imagine how good it must feel to have both of your ankles pinched in one of his hands, pinning your legs over your shoulder, admiring how easy it is for him to manipulate your body however he wants -- really if he wanted to, he could crush you into a million pieces. But what good would come from hurting his princess? Why should he hurt you when all he wants to give you is love? To drink you up and leave you feeling drunk off of his feelings for you. His tongue is just so long and thick, pushing between your folds and tonguing your clit, loving the way you squirm and writhe beneath him, trying to kick your legs but he has such a firm grasp on them -- and when his tongue slips inside of you, exploring your gummy innards, you came right then and there.

He had hardly touched you, and yet five minutes in you are convulsing on his mouth, bucking your hips and chasing every last second of your high -- he finds it cute, his usually modest, polite little princess now whining and begging him, riding his face and tugging at his horns. He wants to give you everything, to claim every inch of you tonight, to take all of your firsts and ruin you for everyone else. You will be his, even if it means bullying his fat cock into your velvety cunt.

[ OCT 24 ] HEAT | gorou

pairing: gorou x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, slight omegaverse?? like v slight, breeding, service top!gorou, you play with gorou’s ears a lot lol, knotting, gorou in heat

notes: i had this idea after THAT audio clip was released

“i never knew your ears were so sensitive, general.” gorou wanted to despise the bright, curious little glint in your eyes as your fingers continued to ravish his flushed ears. he could hardly protest, partially because he didn’t want to, but also because every attempt at one he made was in vain as it melted into an obscene cry.

“please forgive me for prodding so openly. i know i’m not one to get distracted but…” it was ironic how you couldn’t even muster the rest of your thought, utterly indulging in gorou’s lewd responses.

kazuha was right. i need to help him.

Keep reading

"He... He sent you something again?!"

The shrill and concerned voice of your friend Rana rang loudly through the tavern as she angrily slammed her hands on the wooden table, a vein threatening to pop out of her forehead as you presented her with yet another gift Al-Haitham had sent you. This time it was a simple red rose, it's pretty petals nothing short of eye catching but you, and Rana especially, wanted nothing more than to ruin the delicate flower as it lays on the table undisturbed, the power of dendro infused into it which prevented you from doing anything. It also didn't help that he added something to the flower that caused other minor difficulties - you had accidentally pricked your finger on the sharp thorn but what freaked you out was how the blood got absorbed into the flower. A neatly written note accompanied the bloom, stating as such:

"Once a tiny droplet of your blood falls onto the rose, it shall be a part of your life force. If you are unwell, the flower is unwell. If you are happy, so is the flower. A great way of keeping track, don't you think?"

Of course none of the ink was visible before you had cut your finger....

Life in Sumeru City had been peaceful for the most part but you decided to be a fool by befriending Al-Haitham, a man whom hardly anyone liked and everyone warned you against seeing.

Oh how you wished you had the power to turn back time and make yourself not meet him. He was more stubborn than an angry mule, it was like the word no didn't even exist in the man's vocabulary. Go away might as well be Take me with you in his eyes.

🍒 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @morigumy, @kalopsia-sonder

Short as hell but I'm too tired to continue

Do you write for Kazuha and Diluc yet? I read your blanket hog thing and I'm wondering what they'd be like, please? ;w;

I do write for them, yes! I was planning on doing a part two of that as well since so many people liked it. I’ll definitely add them in this one!

Genshin Men With Blanket Hog Reader Part 2

Warnings: Use of pet names, a little suggestive at Kazuha’s part but nothing explicit

Diluc

This man is rarely ever sleeping in bed at night

He’s either working late nights at Angel’s Share, or fulfilling his duties at the Dark Knight Hero

So when he has came home early in the morning to see you still sleeping, blankets wrapped around you, he had a good idea that he would be better off bringing his own blankets.

On nights where he does lay beside you to go to sleep, you two always cuddle up underneath the covers.

And Diluc always wakes up in the middle of the night because of the cold air

To which he just sighs, reaches down to get the spare blankets, and drapes them over himself before going back to sleep

He’s a man that adapts to situations, and this is no different

Sometimes when he wakes up, he just stares in wonder and confusion at how you even managed to get the blankets wrapped around you so tight

He’s almost convinced that you do it on purpose sometimes just to annoy him

He secretly finds it adorable though. He’s a stoic man with a soft heart.

He goes right back to cuddling you too with a sigh of annoyance once he’s situated with his own blankets

Kaeya

This man smirks and tries not to laugh

He has photos on his Kamera of you hogging the blankets in the most inhumane positions ever

He uses those photos to tease you

“Oh, Jean, look at this one with my dearest in the blankets practically covered in drool-“

“Kaeya I will kill you.”

He’s even hung the photos around the house and cackled as you lectured him about it with an embarrassed blush on your face

Much like Childe, although more gentle, he will snatch the blankets away from you to give himself some warmth

Which causes you to snatch them back

You both just go back and forth till he pins you down by hugging you

With your protests being ignored, he wraps the blankets around the both of you and goes to sleep

I’m pretty sure you do it almost nightly just to have him hug you to sleep

Which I mean, I’m not judging, I’d do the same

Although there have been nights where he has gotten slightly annoyed that you took the blankets away from him for the fifth time within the past hour

During those times, he’s tempted to keep the blankets in place with ice

He actually did that one time, which you had to explain to him that that’s counterproductive cause now it’s extra cold in the room

He just shrugged, “At least now you get to feel what I feel dearest, now, come here and let me cuddle you for warmth. Maybe then you’ll leave the blankets alone, hm?”

Kazuha

Ever the gentleman, he’ll let you have the blankets

He doesn’t want to disturb you from your sleep, you look so peaceful

He instead settles on cuddling close to you for warmth

On a particularly cold night at sea, he woke up shivering

He tried to slowly wedge the blanket out from under you, but ultimately ended up waking you up

He smiled at you before apologizing, “I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to wake you, please go back to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up once more,”

You felt so bad, especially with how you saw him shivering like a leaf in a harsh storm

Since that night, you made it an effort to tuck him into bed first to ensure the blankets stayed on him

Beidou teases you both for it ever since she accidentally walked in on you tucking him in one night

During a conversation when Beidou was teasing you guys about it, he just smiled at her before stating, “I’m just grateful that that’s all you walked in on us doing.”

Cue a spit take from Beidou and her cackling like a madman

You had to walk away from the shear amount of ignominy you felt coursing through your system

Kazuha just gave a soft grin as he watched you walk away

Yae Miko

Early into the relationship, she would have gently woken you up and asked for the blankets back

Then she would cuddle in close to keep you from moving around so much

If you kept taking the blankets, then she would zap you till you gave them up

Not in a harmful way, but just enough to make it tickle

She’ll have you in tears from laughing until you’ve learned your lesson

She also just loves your laugh but don’t tell anyone that

Later into the relationship, once she knows she can truly trust you, she’ll sleep on the bed with you in her fox form

At that point, you can hog all of the blankets if you’d like to. Her fox form keeps her warm enough

She’ll snuggle up to you in her sleep, her tail and ears flickering every now and then

Then in the morning, since she wakes up before you, she’ll turn back and pepper your face in kisses before leaving to go do shrine duties

10/10 best person to hog the blankets from

"KUNIKUZUSHI! Don't you dare ignore me, I don't care if your henchmen hear me yelling!"

notes: yandere, forced marriage, some misogny and classism

You would never claim that your husband was known for his delicacy, yet the word delicate is what comes to mind as his entire being immediately pivots and begins stepping towards you in one fluid, horribly graceful motion. His steps are light; almost a mimicry of ordinary steps, doll-like, and if it weren’t for the bells on his hat, no one would hear him coming. You aren’t the only one who has been surprised on occasion by his sudden appearances.

Yet the delicacy of his movements are utterly betrayed by the ugly frown twisted on his beautiful face. You only have the luxury of focusing on it for a few moments before he grips the collar of your dressing gown and yanks you toward him in one harsh, swift movement.

“Have you lost your senses, woman?” The words are hissed low. “I did not give you my name so you could shriek it out like some ragged pauper screaming at her chickens.”

Your lips press together in a grim line. Oh, yes, you were used to his insults about your heritage, all wrapped in his unfortunate desire to present you to the world--but mostly to himself--as some sort of ethereal noblewoman’s wife. All quiet grace and charm.

Yet it wasn’t the life you were born into, nor did such lofty manners come easily to you. They seemed rather pointless at times, especially since you eventually realized that he liked you best when you were at ease in private, eager to engage with him on a more intimate level than any noblewoman would ordinarily do for her dear husband. It was all a show, one you both put on to different degrees.

“Yet you did give me your name to use,” and the small dip of your head as you speak is both a mockery of the manners he’s instilled in you and a gesture ingrained through months of tedious, irritating training. “And I saw fit to use it thus, since I was speaking to you as my husband, and not my lord.”

“Am I not both?” He muses, and his voice is tight, but the fingers gripping the fabric of your gown loosen anyway. “You certainly know better than to raise your voice to your lord and husband. Are you so ill-trained?” He lifts your chin with a finger, chiding, but there’s a bit of warm teasing in his voice that contrasts against the  coolness of his skin.

You know enough about Scaramouche to know that the situation is on its way to defusing significantly, if not entirely, and you know exactly how to present yourself to soothe the electric irritation you’ve sparked with your outburst.

You lean your chin forward, guiding him to take your face in his hand, and he does. Your eyelashes flutter and you look at him with as much pleading as you can summon.

“Will you answer the question I asked, then, instead of leaving me without another word?” And if your tone becomes softer, if your voice is tinged with something akin to neediness and loneliness, it’s not entirely for show. “Please, my lord, my husband…” 

You wait, for effect, before dealing your finishing blow in a tone far sweeter than the one you used to keep him here earlier. “Kunikuzushi?”

He regards you with eyes that have taken in every inch of your body a thousand times. Sometimes you wonder if he has the power to read minds or to see inside souls. You don’t ask, because the answer might just frighten you.

“All right. We’ll pass through your village once. I expect there to be tributes. And don’t imagine that you’ll be staying for more than an hour or so.”

Your smile is far more gracious than the limitations he’s placed on you, but you don’t mind. Perhaps you can talk him into more later.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He gives your chin a harsh squeeze before letting it drop.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not a fool. I agreed only to spare myself more of your shrewish behavior.”

“Of course, husband,” you say, watching him leave.

He is not a fool, it’s true. But neither are you.

OF ALL THINGS, I BECAME A SEELIE!

Of all things, you became a seelie when you got isekai’d into your favourite game, Genshin Impact. You decide to make him fall for whatever charms you have left in hopes of being taken in as a pet to survive.

➸ Aether, Dainsleif.

➸ Gender-neutral reader.

➸ Inspired by the manhwa Of All Things, I Became A Crow.

#AETHER

You were ecstatic when Aether chose you over the purple seelie; you didn’t want to be trapped in the glass container you had been captured in for an eternity shortly after being isekai’d into Genshin Impact.

Aether would be surprised by your immense enthusiasm to travel with him, and he laughs softly when you nuzzle his cheek. He certainly picked an affectionate seelie and doesn’t regret his choice at all.

Your intelligence comes as another surprise for him. He knows that seelies are good at finding treasures, but you seem to be a special case as the intelligence you possess is on par with a human’s. You’d help him solve the complicated puzzles scattered around Inazuma, and you don’t hide like his other pets when monsters show up! Like a true companion, you float by his side in battle, empowering him with your moral support. He truly appreciates you.

Aether takes really good care of you, and even Paimon pointed out how he seems to love you more than her. You don’t need to eat as a seelie, but he sometimes forgets that and ends up pushing the food he made against your blob-like body, earning a squeak of protest from you. He also tends to sleep while hugging you like a teddy bear; he didn’t think you were one to enjoy cuddles until he found you all nestled up in his arms one morning.

You’re an adorable and smart seelie, so of course you’d attract the attention of his friends. Childe complimented you on how brave you are to not poof out of existence when there’s danger, and Xiangling commented on how chewy you look… However, Aether’s greatest concern is Ayato; when the Yashiro Commissioner noticed how intelligent and loyal you are, he kept trying to bargain with Aether to keep you as his pet. Of course, Aether would shoot him down every time whilst holding you protectively.

Aether is used to people leaving him - but after embarking on many adventures with you as an extra companion, he can’t imagine things ever being the same if you suddenly disappeared one day. You’ve become an important presence in his life and he swears to protect you from Ayato. You and Paimon will always be with him, right? He didn’t realise he asked the question out loud until he feels you press against his lips, causing his cheeks to flush happily.

Keep reading

— In which their s/o gets kidnapped 

Scaramouche | Diluc | Raiden Ei | Cyno

Tags & Notes | GN! Reader, hurt to comfort (?), a little angst. Reblogs and comments are very appreciated. Stay safe and healthy everyone! <33

Warnings | Mentions of torture.

Additional Note | The 3.1 trailer was honestly everything to me, Scaramouche’s comeback, Dottore’s first appearance in the game, Cyno and Al Haitham fight, and Candace <3

•─────────────────•  

SCARAMOUCHE

“Find them! If I see one scratch on them, I will turn you all into corpses!”

He’s obviously not having any of this. 

You said it yourself that you would be by his side no matter what and he let you in his life and now…

Oh, a fool he was to let his subordinates take care of this matter.

“On a second thought, I’ll handle this myself”

He’ll bring only a few to help him clean the mess he’s going to be making once he’s done with the people who decided to take his jewel away from him.

Keep reading

⸸ Eyes on Me — The Silent Orchestra ⸸

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

~~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

Word Count: 2200 <

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

...The Conductor must never see their soul.

Warning: general yandere themes (obsession), gore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...But who?

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

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

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

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

The music of the end.

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

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

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

And at the midst of it all was the perpetrator.

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

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

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

But the performance wasn't over yet.

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

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

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

"S-stop."

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

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

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

"Then how come you're still alright?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you think its defenses are?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They failed.

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

"What's wrong? Ma'am?"

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

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

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

That was when when they heard the explosions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maestro, perhaps she is deaf."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But for what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We will be looking for you."

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

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

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

ALEPH-Class, T-01-31.

The Silent Orchestra.

.

.

.

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

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

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

I would sell my left kidney to have some mafia boss Venti content

content warning: yandere, possessive behaviour, unequal power dynamic. reader disrection is advised.

Okay, I've had this thought before! Because Venti's definitely the one who seems super happy-go-lucky—the type to murder someone in cold blood, but smiling as though he were playing a game, humming all the while a cheerful tune under his breath. The type to use extremely thin blades hidden away everywhere on his body in secret pockets no one knows. He's short, but he’s earned a reputation. The throwing-knife, stabby kind. And he likes to make his toys sing.

So how I imagine the backstory is that you’re an investigator that’s managed to worm your way into the family, working right under the boss himself—the same boss that’s been so unknown to your department, who’s so mysterious that no-one even knew their name, outside of the top family members.

How it begins is this: in the city of Tevyat, there are seven prominent groups in the underground. You've been sent on a mission to infiltrate the ones that call themselves Mondstadt, the so-called freedom fighters (though fighting for what freedom, you’re not sure). How you actually get in though, is far from the usual orthodox ways afforded to investigators of working their ways up to meeting the leaders. The higher-ups of the organization were exclusive and hidden, the boss of the family even moreso.

But of all the bosses in Teyvat—archons, the populace calls them, since they’re similar to magistrates in that they set down the unspoken laws of the underground—the Mondstadt archon is the most unknown one. In fact, there had been rumours he’d already been killed, or stuck in a coma, or some other tragic event. The head of the Mondstadt group is now Jean, who’s inherited it from the old guard composed of people like Varka, but she’s not the archon, which tells you that the Mondstadt archon hasn’t been killed at all. Not if the title was still used on some hidden piece no one knew. It seems that the archon’s just extremely laissez-faire in the governing of his group.

Unknown this archon may be, but somehow, through a stroke of luck, you end up saving someone with connections to him. Not that you were aware; you merely thought he was an eccentric singer. His name is Venti, and you save him from a cat, of all things, the little kitten circling the frightened man who keeps sneezing and shooing it away. My saviour, he positively sings it when he inspects you up and down after the offending kitten has been safely given back to its own (a little girl in red, who has quite an explosive imagination). There’s this gleam in his teal eyes when he calls your name, a sure sign of a mischievous trickster. That should have been the first sign. But you suspect nothing of his darker roots, taken in by his boyishly handsome looks. 

You still think he’s a normal civilian, so when Venti insists on rewarding you for your bravery (it shall be sung in ballads, he says with a smirk) by bringing you to a fancy dinner party as his guest, you accept reluctantly. Not because you want to go, but more so because this man sticks around you like sticky rice, refusing to let himself from your side even as you’re making your investigations. when you tell him you’re busy with matters. The excuse was that you’re interested in joining the Mondstadters, and that’s when his eyes twinkle. “Oh? Why would you want to associate with a bunch of thugs?”

“I think their philosophy is interesting,” you tell him half-truths, something about seeking power and admiring the Mondstadt archon and freedom in joining their group. If it could even be called freedom, how many rules and regulations the families set down in order to prevent territory wars.

“I see!” Venti claps his hands together. “Maybe you’ll find the party useful then! It has quite a number of notable attendants. Perhaps their connections will help you.”

“Notable? You mean like celebrities?”

“…you could say that!” Venti says while laughing.

Strangely enough, even though Venti’s broke—you’ve seen the poor state of his wallet, nary a penny to his name—he manages to send you this expensive suit set, complete with this little brooch at the lapel, emerald gem pinned, a pattern of the wind etched onto it. You don’t think much of it, much more aghast at the fact that Venti was able to afford this item—he could barely pay for his drinks whenever he dragged you to the bar with him, and even then, you paid for him half the time. The other half of the time consists of Venti putting the drinks on his tab and getting scolded for it by the red-haired bartender. So shocked were you, you don’t even ponder how it is that he knew where you lived. After moving to a new location because of this assignment, you’ve never told anybody your new home.

You attend the party. Grasping at straws, because the secrets of the boss were so highly protected, you sigh and make yourself decent enough to go. When you hand in the invitation, the guards at the front widening their eyes at the chicken-scratch of Venti’s writing, they let you in without a fuss, even bowing profusely at you as you step through the door. Rich people are weird, and it seems like the people they hire are even weirder, you think absentmindedly as you wander around the halls of this luxurious mansion. People give you a wide berth, occasionally glancing at the emerald gem you keep touching in some semblance of comfort at your lapel. 

It’s when you try to get to one of the break rooms to rest your feet that you finally understand what Venti meant when he said there may be “prominent figures”. Because the person you almost knock over is the acting boss of the family, Jean.

She’s there, apologizing so softly, so politely, as you try to keep yourself from showing any of your shock on your face, your heart about to leap out of your mouth, beating so violently against your ribcage you think you may be ill. That’s when Venti pops in, that disarming smile, as always, present on his face. He’s surely laughing on the inside at your thoughts right now, racing so fast you struggle to keep up.

“So that’s your person, sir,’ Jean says, as Venti wraps his arm around your neck in a friendly hold—friendly only to him though, because you were finally beginning to understand. “You should keep a better watch. In this place… you never know who could take advantage.”

His.. person? Sir? The horror of the situation finally dawns itself on you, puzzle pieces sliding into place, as Venti nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck—an intimate gesture you’d gotten used to, having known him for months now, but only now does it make your mouth dry. Not with anticipation, no, but a deep unsettling dread that lodges itself in your throat. 

“It’s okay,” Venti says to Jean, the smile never leaving his face. His eyes shift to the brooch at your lapel, and his arm lets your neck go, sliding around your waist instead, pulling you toward him. “Everyone we’ve invited should know better than to displease the archon of Mondstadt, don’t you think? Not if they don’t want to get a knife in their eyes, I’d think. I do enjoy the loudness of their screams though.”

Jean shrugs, nonplussed at his violent words. “Whatever you say, sir. I’ll be going now. The guests will need to be watched extensively, after all.”

You watch her leave, and finally you open your mouth.

“What just… No, who are you?” 

Venti grins. “You said you wanted to join us, didn’t you?” His grip around your waist gets tighter, and you’re acutely aware that despite his slight form, he’s strong. Too strong for you to do anything about his touch, how his fingers are tapping on your hip bone a rhythm to an unknown song. “As your new boss, I must say…”

He leans into your ear, warm breath caressing the shell of your ears, voice sing-song with a smug satisfaction, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

You swallow. You hadn’t even agreed to joining—but isn’t this what you’ve been working toward? So you smile weakly, say, “Likewise,” and pretend that his eyes are not sparkling at how your full attention is on him. Pretend that the kiss he presses to your cheek is just a friendly gesture—and not a mark of possession, like the one he’s pinned to the lapel of your suit, like the bruises you’ll find on your neck in the future, when Venti makes you sing like he’s always wanted.