Genshin X Reader - Blog Posts

[ THE TIES OF TWO SOULS ! ] genshin soulmate au ! 

Genshin Impact x Gender Neutral Reader Headcannons !

INCLUDES: Genshin Impact male characters! Soulmate aus, which would fit them and how the two of you meet!

WARNINGS: None!

Female charcters version will be out whenever I have time!

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YOU'D COME OVER RIGHT? ( scaramouche realises he still wants you to be there until the end ).

— genres: ficlet. hurt / comfort. — cw : breakups, crying, skinship. — characters : scaramouche x gn!reader.

inhale, exhale.

there's a desolate silence that stretches between the two of you, amplifying the painfully clear distance that has only grown since the last time you've met.

"why are you here?"

your voice comes off a lot colder than you'd expected. a chill runs down your spine and you see scara's grip on the doorframe tighten to the point where his knuckles turn white. there's a little part of you that almost pities him, guilty for being unwilling to welcome him back with open arms. you can barely see his eyes from how his head is turned away and his gaze is cast downward, trembling fingers closed into a fist around the string of his hoodie. his entire body shivers. whether it's from the frigid temperatures or something else, you're not entirely sure.

there's no response except the timid clearing of his throat. but he doesn't follow up with any words. there is nothing but silence that occupies the space between you two.

"i thought you told me to leave."

scara's gaze meets yours and your heart cracks a little. god, he looks so vulnerable and … weak right now. a word you never thought you'd use to describe him. tear stains streak across his cheeks and the dark circles and redness around his eyes aren't something you see very often ... if at all. nervous eyes flit back and forth between staring at you and back at the ground before they squeeze themselves shut, as if trying to block out the stark reality that both of you have no idea what to say.

actions speak for themselves, you guess.

as soon as your skin ghosts over his knuckles, his body crumples and collapses into yours with a choked sob. but he doesn't cry; no, not yet, he can't let himself break in front of you. but dragging himself to your front door like this after all that's been said and done — hasn't he already shattered?

your arm snakes around his waist carefully before closing the door and nudging him further in towards the warmth of your home. the feeling is all too familiar — it's almost like those nights after parties when he'd come home drunk with childe and they'd crash onto the couch, scara's slurred words colliding with each other into a jumbled, incoherent mess, just as his usually stiff body would slump gently into your embrace, his typically cold heart melting at your touch. yet the familiarity isn't comforting, rather, it makes your heart ache. perhaps it's the sentimentality of it all, or perhaps it's because you both know there's no way those memories could ever be relived. there are too many strings attached; you've tied yourselves to opposite sides of the room, and now you're unable to budge a single inch. yet a part of you wants to try and break away.

hesitant fingers come to grasp at your wrists and scara's violet irises gloss over in a shade of desperateness you never thought you'd see. he's always been in control ... until now, at least. he's never needed anyone. no one. he's convinced himself he can do everything on his own, that he needs nothing other than himself. after all, anyone that's come close has only ever been turned away. including you. but he can't control you now. he no longer has to encourage you to be more assertive when taking a stand, or execute plans swiftly and with confidence. you know his every thought, his every move. you're always three steps ahead. and now you've had enough of him, and you're slipping through his fingers despite the tight grip he's always had on you.

"sorry for ... coming over uninvited."

for as long as he can remember, scara has never been scared. fearless, heartless, emotionless. he has never had anything more to lose in life. but now he's afraid you'll leave. now he realises he never wanted you to think he'd given up on staying.

he'll fix himself. he'll fix everything, all the broken parts of him and all the shattered parts of you.

"you can just keep coming over. anytime."

flavors of you (II)

content: fluff, what he says his first kiss tastes like

character/s: gorou, thoma, scaramouche

note: dfksjd just finished the story quest yesterday <33 and it’s only right that i dedicate this one for the inazuma boys ;> i hope you guys enjoy once more, and have a lovely day!!

precaution: i just need to warn you guys that there will be slight spoilers in scaramouche’s, so if you haven’t done the story quest yet, i’d suggest you finish meeting him first before reading this :))

GOROU

the innumerable and arduous days he’s spent training the resistance warriors, are too enervating to recount as he begrudgingly nods off to get some well-deserved rest, or to pursue the extreme activities as early as the dawn of the following morning.

but they were all fighting for their freedom - fighting for the land they loved, and to free its people from their prolonged suffering. thus, the heavy burden and absolute importance of this duty, was not worth the incessant complaints that occasionally tumbled out of his soldiers’ mouthes out of fatigue, or his own body’s desperate cries of weariness that he has long learned to ignore by now.

however when foreign and plush curves of pink crash onto his, the beguiling temptation to finally drop his worn-out weapon onto the ground with a resounding clatter and forget about the damned training, has never sounded more appealing to him as you made it today.

he thinks he’ll remember the way you taste for the rest of his life - ephemeral flavors of ambrosia perfused triumph at the end of a lengthy and merciless war. he stares with a flushed expression at your lidded eyes, and observes from a limited corner of his covered vision, as your fingers leisurely trail across his chest and gingerly grasp for purchase on his armor.

his breath hitches at the intimate and trivial gesture - gorou has always been preoccupied with the looming battle and his blinded desire to achieve victory with his comrades. he’s never dared to pursue the insignificant thought of romance amidst the constant danger, but perhaps the simple notion of y/n l/n would be enough to sway his firm resolve and consider entertaining his pent-up feelings for you.

as his hand shifts to the back of your neck to bring you in for several further heated kisses, greedy to savor your suffusing flavors with each repeated latch to your lips - he believes you may just be the only thing that tastes remarkably better than the resistance’s success.

THOMA

he was always exclusively flirty with you, but he never once expected you to take the passing comments so seriously.

you should really stop saying things that make me want to kiss you - he vividly recalled saying with a playful wink. he doesn’t remember how, but at some point things strangely escalated, and now, he found himself pinning your smaller frame against the wall in a secluded room, with a fond and stolen kiss shared between two supposedly close friends.

friends…he’s never despised the innocent label until you came, now the word somehow became the only option and excuse he had left to stay with you. the title also served as a fine border - a line he never dared to cross out of fear of losing you, a line that constantly reminded him of his insignificant place in your ever-evolving and wonderful world.

however, when you give a pretty smile at his cheeky statement and suddenly grasp his collar to bring his lips against yours - the overpowering nectarine taste of flawed first love intrudes his mouth for him to savor.

he thought the privilege of kissing you was one only bestowed in his traitorous and unrealistic daydreams…however now that he’s unintentionally achieved the baffling opportunity to do so, his first instinct is to push you away. he thinks you deserve someone better - someone who wasn’t tied to countless obligations with a supreme clan, someone who could unfailingly devote his time on you, someone who might probably love you more than thoma himself presumes he does.

i never took you for a coward - he hears you whisper against his lips with a ghost of a smile - but i’m just saying…if you want me, then i’m yours.

and he does want you - perhaps if you’d allow him, for the rest of his life…and even longer.

SCARAMOUCHE

it was a terribly foolish scheme — out of all the infinite and considerably modest methods you could have concocted at the back of your mind, your actions somehow rebelled against your rationality and impulsively decided on the worst one…

is what he presumes you’re thinking, as he blankly gazes in astonishment after being abruptly knocked over to the ground, followed by the sudden sensation of something soft grazing against his lips.

he’s aware it’s all in an endeavor to distract him and for you look for an opportunity to slip away. after all you were presently held captive under him, as a consequence of ultimately failing to purloin the gnosis he recently traded with the fox lady to set the traveller free. however, never in his wildest dreams did he predict that you had the guts to kiss the balladeer himself, the sixth and most despicable harbinger of the fatui - risking your presently slim chances of freedom in this one mere osculation.

it’s a witless move - he belatedly chants in his mind, the pleasurable candied flavors of a forbidden fruit invading his lips, as his head spins and his expression strains to deny the irrefutably delightful taste of your soft appendages. his fingers absentmindedly grasp the billowing cloth of his massive headpiece for semblance, as his heart beginning to thump rapidly at your unforeseen action.

he probably shouldn’t, and he knows not to do so, but every incessant grumble of reason in his mind is immediately shoved out and forgotten about, and his hand swiftly reaches to clasp your cheek to impatiently draw you closer. you slightly lose your balance at the aggressive motion, briefly interrupting the kiss to catch yourself - but his free arm instinctively secures you in a safer position it, and he hungrily seizes you back to his mouth without even allowing you to catch your breath, the sudden collision inflicting a slight cut upon his dewy lips.

when you both finally break away for good, he quietly scoffs in irritation and shakes his head in disappointment. his eyes flicker to the ground as he resentfully adjusts his toppling hat, licking the blood that slowly pooled out of the fresh wound from his lips. in the end, scaramouche still had a duty to fulfill to his archon…and though the idea of you staying around a bit longer was somewhat enticing, your mere presence and the fact that you were both fighting on different sides, would only hinder him even more from achieving it.

“ten seconds…” he eventually grumbles in an incoherent manner, hastily turning away to hide the suffusing blush on his pale cheeks. “and if i still see you standing here, i’ll kill you.”

genshin boys in a biker gang

synopsis: when you’re a nerdy college student invited to the biker gang’s fraternity party.

character/s: scaramouche, xiao, thoma, childe, kazuha, gorou, itto, ayato

note: inspired by my favorite UA party playlist by nimbus!! <3 may be a bit suggestive in some parts hehe

ITTO! + delinquent best friend! + feel this moment, sweater weather

your best friend who invites you over to the gang’s late and tumultuous fraternity party!

begins with a cliche greeting — when pebbles suddenly come catapulting at random intervals on your poor glass window during a school night, and you begrudgingly force yourself to stand up and greet the presence of the six-foot framed culprit beaming with mirth below.

encourages your procrastinating ass to furtively slip out your window and fall into his sturdy and open arms — giggling childishly as you shake your head and he looks down at you with that stupid smirk twisted across his lips.

makes sure to help you stand up properly, before taking your hand and scampering off towards the abandoned streets of the tranquil neighborhood. fortunately, the venue of the location wasn’t far off from your address, and soon you’re both sidling into the establishment’s back door while brimming with much excitement.

spending a night with itto isn’t as average as the majority expect it to be. everyone believes you’re the average best friends with much platonic affection for each other…however lately, there’s been a proliferation of an unspoken and irrefutably odd sexual tension thickening between you two.

like when his intrusive arm lazily slithers around the dips of your waist, rather than the usual public display of his bulky limb thrown across your smaller shoulders, as you both push and weave through the congested sea of skimpily clothed bodies bathed in a neon glow.

when his aggravatingly dominant smirk directed at you beneath the fluorescence of flamboyant lights, glows a little too brightly amidst the feverish haze of the darkness.

or when you attempt to sit down on one of the chairs next to the bar, and instead find yourself playfully hoisted by itto onto the marble counter — his large palms tightly pressed around the curves of your hips when he sets you down, childishly bumping his nose against yours in a somewhat teasing manner.

and try as you might, in desperately failing in your attempts to pry his iron grip off from digging against the sides of your waist, the lighthearted sound of his hushed snickers witnessing your futile endeavors still manages to send a stupid flush across your shadowed cheeks.

if you weren’t already visibly flustered enough by the ambiguous gestures, itto would most definitely add fuel to the fire with a nonchalant exchange of flirty remarks towards you, his wandering fingers absentmindedly twirling the soft locks of your hair that you had upsettingly given much effort to style for the night.

perhaps it was simply the air inside the vigorously confined atmosphere of the disco — evidently dense on your lungs as it reeks of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes — leaving you utterly grasping at straws for breath beneath the humidity and his blistering gaze. you can feel the blare of the music pulsing through your veins, but nothing as loud as the painfully blatant thumps of your traitorous and foolish heart.

“thanks for coming out with me tonight, little nerd.”

THOMA! + dependable fixer made hot bartender! + evacuate the dance floor, dinero

the cute bartender lingering around to take your order!

when itto begrudgingly leaves to resolve a pressing issue with some other gang members, he eventually decides to leave you in thoma’s reliable care while he’s away.

comes off as a super extroverted guy — he’s very friendly and welcoming with you, going as far to give you the interesting privilege of concocting a unique (most certainly non-alcoholic) drink with certain ingredients he thinks would suit your taste. and it turns out quite beautiful without a doubt, swirls of orange, pink and violent shades coalescing together within the crystalline glass — almost like the characteristically ethereal sunset captured within a frame.

is low-key flirty…however you don’t really notice it because you presume he’s simply being nice.

but it’s there alright — in the little proud smirks he sends you after succeeding to make you laugh with a witty joke, how his fingers linger a little longer over yours when he extends you the finished beverage, how his eyes seem to stare a tad too much at your seemingly distracted semblance as you quietly admire the aesthetic refreshment in your possession.

and oh, you think you’ve finally noticed it when you catch wandering viridescent irises sneaking discreet yet frequent glances, over at the surface of your lustered lips from the drink in hand.

it’s undeniably evident in his aura when sharing a conversation with you too, as he seems more lively and engrossed with your friendly exchange of various and random subjects, despite the discussion not actually building up to much at all.

so it’s an understatement to say that when another person repetitively beckons him over — with much aggression and impatience in the customer’s blatantly slurred words — that thoma was merely irritated by the man’s impolite and rude attitude.

rather, the trivial spark of anger that flickered once in a while as he quietly busied himself with the man’s order, only ignited even more when the drunken customer gradually began to harass you with perversely cheap and degrading comments from the other end of the counter.

and thus, thoma eventually resorts to walking over towards him with the chilled beverage in hand, casually offering it out to him. when the drunkard soon takes it, the blonde’s free hand swiftly swoops in to wrap around the wrist of the rude man, whispering something incomprehensible beneath his breath for only the man to hear — a seemingly polite smile twisting across his lips as he watched the man’s eyes slowly widen in fear.

needless to say, whatever transpired between them seemed to prove itself as more than effective, to suddenly leave the customer wobbling with a frantic scurry to somewhere farther away from the bar.

as thoma placidly returns to standing across you from the bar to entertain your thoughts, you ask with inquisitive interest as to how he got the man to abruptly scuttle away without much protests or a fight.

he merely shrugs with what you’ve distinguished to be his signature smile, leaning down gingerly to wipe a small stain of your refreshment off the corners of your dewy lips.

“oh that? it was nothing important. now, on to a more pressing issue — would it still be presumptuous of me to see if i could somehow get this pretty lady’s number by the end of the night?”

SCARAMOUCHE! + squad six’s irascible captain! + sway with me, party rock anthem

the belligerent boy you accidentally bump into while exiting the bathroom!

after politely excusing yourself from thoma — as soon as more orders suddenly started flooding in and you had already regrettably finished your drink — the two of you eventually agreed to part ways with exchanged numbers, as you hurriedly left to wash your face in the bathroom.

although as soon as you finish your business and turn the corner to leave, your shoulder coincidentally collides against another boy’s, eliciting a disgruntled response and deathly glare from the other person in the vacated and cramped hallway.

technically, both the stranger and you were partly at fault for not watching each other’s way through the narrow corridor…

still, he was quite persistent with his profanities of anger purely directed towards you — and it pissed you off that he couldn’t seem to find it in his pride to take half the blame either.

so there you both were — arguing within tapered confines for perhaps a solid ten minutes, literally encouraging everyone else to evade the bathroom and hold it in their bladders for only gods knew how long.

strangely, the longer you contended with each other, the more you noticed a lot of details about him. like how his indigo irises darkened with every provoking comment exchanged, how pale slender fingers exasperatedly ran through his dark hair as a sign of clear irritation, or how he infuriatingly chewed on his bottom lip to perhaps compose himself with what mere insignificant semblance he had left.

you presumed that by the unreadable look on his face, he was finally ready to apologize (like you had already did minutes ago) on his behalf of the blame.

however, you’ve probably failed to realize that in the midst of your heated dispute, the boy had already cornered you on one end of the corridor as you leaned against the wall, your hands captive underneath his wrists after practically combusting and waving them around the air for emphasis, thereby causing him to hold them down so you wouldn’t take up too much space flinging them around his line of vision.

you hear him mutter something incoherent beneath his breath, sounding similar to another string of characteristic vulgarities you had eventually grown to understand was just a natural instinct of his.

“archons woman, would it kill you to shut up already?”

“make me, you little dipshit.”

the bold comment is enough to leave the hostile boy slightly bewildered, gaze boring into yours with an eerily odd intensity. he becomes quiet in thought, and you think that this is it — he’s finally going to back down and you can all go on without much of a struggle any longer.

however to your surprise, he simply chuckles lowly and shakes his head with a sadistic grin…tilting his head to inch closer to yours with a cocky smirk contorting across his lips in a ghost of a whisper, that almost instantaneously leaves you flustered at the absurd and blatant implied notion of it.

“alright, trouble. let’s see how much it takes to break you.”

KAZUHA! + taciturn classmate turned badass soldier! + hey baby, balenciaga

the familiar classmate who saves you in your search for the lounge!

you recognized a tuft of white and red locks amidst the dimmed crowd, initially thinking nothing of it but a weird coincidence when you felt a tinge of familiarity within the conspicuous hues.

to say you struggled with traversing through the congested mob was much of an understatement…you basically kept getting pushed and pulled by the colliding bodies, along with the dizzying beat of the deafening rhythm ringing in your ears. you could barely see anything from the number of people vigorously jumping up and down, as your legs began to feel wobbly and considered the thought of giving in onto the floor.

fortunately for you, a stranger’s hand suddenly clasps yours within the heated dynamic of the club — almost instantly hauling you away from the crowd and to a significantly less populated space.

you raise a hand to your head unsteadily, taking ragged breaths as the world ever so slowly began to spin. a pair of arms catch your staggering frame, and you hear the faint whispers of a boy asking if you’re still feeling alright.

when you glance up at the stranger to express a brief thanks for saving you back there, your eyes furrow in evident confusion at the sight of familiar crimson irises. wasn’t this the student seated a row in front of you during literature period?

he seems to recognize you too — a frown etching across his fair features the longer he looks at you. kazuha was almost certain you were practically a goody-two-shoes, clear by the sense of diligence and responsibility you exhibited during class. yet, to find you carelessly stumbling around a club, let alone lost in a dangerous biker gang’s fraternity party…

unfortunately, this also meant his concealed identity was ultimately exposed — and all he does is let out an amused chuckle at the absurdity of it, shaking his head lightly as he helps you stand up properly, before wordlessly taking your hand to courteously guide you over to where the lounge was situated.

you had so many questions as to why — why the usually civil student was suddenly found donned in the same jacket itto wore to signify his connection with the gang, why the characteristically reserved boy was somehow found greeting strangers who passed by and talking with you a bit longer than he usually did in class, why his thumb kept rubbing oddly comforting circles on your palm as he casually walked over to a corner you haven’t noticed ever since you arrived here.

when you both approach a door, you watch as kazuha merely hums while fishing for something in the pocket of his jacket — never once letting go of your hand, even as he pulls out a key and twists it inside the knob. he pushes open the door with his shoulder, sending your astonished expression over with a reassuring and undeniably pretty smile.

apparently, the lounge was only exclusive to the actual members of the gang, and could only be accessed with a certain key — which your best friend had unfortunately forgotten to mention when attempting to enter it. kazuha gestures over to a seat by a vacant couch, saying you could take a quick rest and try to clear your head from the previous events that had recently transpired outside.

he turns around in preparation to leave, however your fingers bashfully clasp on his sleeve, accompanied with a hasty ‘thank you’ that you had almost forgotten to express to the nice boy a moment ago. you feel warm hands hover over yours, pressing a little object that felt similar to the sensation of a key into your own palm — and glance up to see a winsome smirk plastered on his lips.

“here, this is the key to the lounge. we’re even now, aren’t we?”

“e-even? how do i repay you back?”

“easy. just keep your pretty lips sealed about seeing me here.”

his smirk deepens at your flustered cheeks, your grasp on his sleeve loosening at the flirty remark. kazuha remains unfazed on the other hand — simply walking towards the exit with the lazy wave of his hand, to bid goodbye to you for the evening.

“have a nice night, l/n.”

CHILDE! + (my) best friend’s brother (is the one for me)! + like a g6, dancer in the dark

your best friend’s brother who catches you peacefully resting by the couch!

you’re oblivious to the ginger-haired man quietly approaching your table — as your eyes were absently trained on the glass of water settled in front of you, sparkling ice cubes leisurely melting within the lukewarm temperatures of the pellucid liquid.

it’s only after a few rapid taps from behind your shoulder, and a familiar grin peeking through your side-vision, do you then recognize your best friend’s older brother, sporting an eerily similar biker apparel to all the other boys you’ve encountered throughout the span of an entire evening.

sure, kazuha’s secret identity came off as an initial surprise to you…but childe? the lanky and overprotective boy who used to welcome you in his teasing embrace every time you’d come over their house? the very same one who had the habit of bickering around immaturely with his siblings, yet remained an unusually benevolent guy at the end the day? this was him?

and it’s not as if childe himself expected to find you in such a place either — however he doesn’t exactly discern your unanticipated presence as a terrible circumstance. so there he casually leans, over the couch with a chiding smirk at your pallid face, nonchalantly threatening you to keep it a nice little secret…or else he’d politely rat your rebellious ass out to your parents too.

tense moments aside — he would most likely slide next to you on the couch and simply behave the same way he usually does while sharing an average conversation with you, making little to zero effort of letting you adjust at the sudden fact that he was a member of a biker gang.

will definitely haul your lazy ass off the couch just to dance. he even snickers as you collide on his chest with rather wobbly legs across the dance floor — whispering rather incoherent mumbles in the lobe of your ear (that somehow fell along the words of you being careless), while his hands stealthily travel down to your hips with a cocky grin.

warm breath tickles your feverish skin, as you both slowly sway your bodies to the rhythm of the music. you’re almost certain your best friend would have murdered the both of you, if she had caught the seeming oddly close and intimate sight displayed on the disco.

is sort of a sadist as well — when he twirls you around and holds you close with your back against his chest, he likes to lean down to mutter teasing jokes in your ear that leave you irritated and strangely flustered…but nonetheless, smiling.

“we may as well have fun together while it lasts, darling. after all, we’ll have to end up forgetting about this when the night’s over.”

AYATO! + a run in with my courteous blind date! + we are who we are, you make me feel

meeting your blind date while deliberating if you should head home!

as you leave the lounge after handing kazuha’s key for childe to return on your behalf, its only when you realize that it’s already gone past midnight, despite your initial plans to head home early and finish a project presently due a few hours from now.

as you aimlessly wander around the less crowded dance floor in search of itto, you feel a hand abruptly clasp your wrist, gently tugging you backwards to a foreign scent. your head whips back in surprise at the gesture, only to be greeted by a civil smile contorted on familiar features.

it was impossible to mistaken him — after all, you had only gone out on a blind date together rather recently, around a week ago. and it seems he hadn’t forgotten you either, grinning warmly like he did the last time you had seen him. still, why was it always the most unexpected people who were secretly part of a gang?

will definitely spend a little over an hour talking with you in a corner, mostly things about catching up and asking how the other has been doing. ayato’s actually noticed your presence ever since you entered the club, but has missed countless of opportunities to quietly approach you since you were clearly busying yourself with…well, other guys.

a literal gentleman — tenderly nudges you closer to his side when he notices someone passing by behind you and you’re busy talking, will casually tuck stray strands of hair falling across your face with a polite smile (which ultimately interrupts your sentences and makes you blush — he says its for your convenience, but really, he thinks its just cute to see your cheeks red), actually asks for consent before doing anything he presumes you’re uncomfortable with!

actually becomes very satisfied with himself when he makes you smile or laugh, it feels like a hundred victories won for him within the simple twists of your lips…though he doesn’t really understand why you stubbornly refuse to take him seriously when he compliments that you look pretty tonight.

gets somewhat confused thirty minutes in, when he sees you don’t seem very unfazed by him. and perhaps ayato was too hyper aware with the electric sensation of your fingers lightly brushing against his — but you didn’t seem to elicit much of a reaction with his mere presence. because of course he wants you to feel shy when you’re next to him, why was he the only one being so reserved now?

when he hears that you’re leaving to head home, he feels sort of dejected. but it was reasonably better for you to depart, than to leave you around here with the rest of the unrestrained gang members. who knew what would happen the longer you stayed?

his mind will definitely nitpick on him for being a coward to not ask you out, but he doesn’t really want to force you into doing something you didn’t enjoy either. so there it remains in the depths of his thoughts, for the last few minutes until you bid him goodbye to leave.

kind of had a “fuck it” moment in his head when he sees you turn around — eventually plucks up the courage to take your hand with a little smile and a hushed question, before he then watches you withdraw for the evening.

“if you’re interested, would you still be willing to see me again in a movie theater rather than a nightclub?”

XIAO! + gang leader next door! + freak, feel so close

attractive yet private neighbor at the secluded corner of the bar!

you presumed he would be anything but, well, a gang leader. and yet, there the man was — seated in a discreet corner behind the counter with a glass in hand, vehement golden-amber eyes never leaving the faint silhouette of your figure coalescing amidst the sea of bodies.

you couldn’t genuinely tell if you either liked him or not. for instance, he wasn’t always much for talking…which was honestly comforting when the neighborhood would have everyone celebrate the holidays together — as you would simply sneak away with xiao and tag along with him to places like movie theaters or convenience stores, without forcing yourselves to communicate much.

albeit, the night he accidentally stumbled bloodied inside your house (which he had inadvertently confused with his) at the late hour of the night, rendered him undeniably indebted to you for not making much of a fuss about the conspicuous sight.

despite your generosity with meticulously bandaging his wounds, and remaining reticent towards the strange circumstances that had transpired within the confines of your property — xiao’s character was nonetheless austere, and hastily vacated the premises as soon as you had finished your handiwork, without even bearing to pause and say thank you.

well, at least you knew how he ended up thrashed that evening.

you hadn’t really planned on stopping by to share a conversation with him anyway — he’s probably recognized you by now, and perhaps it was only better if you left without making things more awkward and difficult for the both of you.

as you proceed to push your way through the suffocating crowd despite the occasional jostles, you could swear that you could already see a blinking red sign that signified the exit of the club. when you attempt to take a step closer, you accidentally bump into a stranger’s chest — muttering a hasty exchange of apologies before trying to move aside so you could eventually approach the door leading outside.

however, the man doesn’t seem to give you any space for it — and it’s only when you glance up at his face, is when you recognize the perverse and drunken man that had incessantly bothered you while you were still with thoma. except now, neither the blonde nor itto wasn’t here…none of the other faces you’ve met throughout the entirety of the night were. and chances were, with the clogged throng of bodies surrounding the both of you, it was almost impossible to even dare to find a sliver of an opening and ultimately slip away.

you can hear the man sloppily flirting with you in incomprehensible mumbles, his hands flailing as they try to grasp your frame while you attempt to shove them away. you can feel yourself growing all the more anxious when one of his hands tightly clutches your wrist, chills running up your spine as you hear him laugh in triumph while he pulls you closer to his body. you could see that you were a thin line of people away from the threshold of the disco — if there was only some way you could miraculously shove him aside and make the greatest effort to frantically burst in a run for it, maybe, just maybe…

“i thought i already warned you not to try anything funny, you fucking jerk.”

in the briefest of seconds, the burning grasp on your limb finally loosens — and you’re left staring agape at the pervert instantaneously thrown down at the floor, clasping his bruised cheek as blood begins to trickle down the corner of his cut lips. you feel another set of fingers protectively wrap around your arm, and you glance over to see the green-haired boy you were previously thinking of, looking down with an unreadable gaze at the man knocked to the ground.

due to the sudden commotion, the crowd had dispersed and cleared a path to witness the scene — onlookers left stunned at the bloodied man, guiltily averting their eyes away to prevent being dragged into the tense situation. the man coughs groggily, clutching his cheek with terror before slowly scampering away within the mass.

after a few moments of processing the situation, the crowd eventually resumes back with their dancing. you can only watch as xiao quietly wipes the blood splattered off the corner of his lips, rubbing it on his shirt in evident disgust.

xiao suddenly tugs you closer to his chest, his breath hot as it fanned across your flushed cheeks, as he lowly murmured something in a muffled whisper that astonishingly erupts into a pit of butterflies that flutter in your stomach, before he eventually (and rather reluctantly) lets you go for the night.

“don’t say i never gave you anything. now i’m not in your debt.”

GOROU! + steadfast bodyguard walking you home! + last friday night

the nice boy xiao ordered to end up taking you home!

since itto still hadn’t returned from his priorities, and xiao was needless to say, visibly pissed at the man’s utter carelessness for inviting you over to such a late party — he sends gorou to walk you home and ensure that you return safely instead.

very friendly to talk to! he’s kind enough to lend you his jacket as soon as you both step out of the club — to which you initially reject with a reassuring smile, but end up taking it anyway since the night breeze had gotten chillier.

asks if you had fun from the party, while you’re leisurely ambling through the empty sidewalks. he noticed you around the club a lot, and wondered if you enjoyed yourself with the belated festivities…which you genuinely did! to some extent.

gorou was initially worried on taking the task of walking you home, mainly because he was concerned that you wouldn’t feel very comfortable with being accompanied by a stranger…considering the events that had previously transpired back in the club.

he also notices that your shoulders began to hunch with eyes occasionally fluttering shut, soft yawns escaping your lips instead of verbal responses coming out — a sign that you had already grown weary after the eventful night.

instantly offers to carry you on his back! to which you’re somewhat unsure if you still had the capacity to decline on the request, considering your legs began to feel numb from walking around for too long…so you end up complying with his generous proposal instead.

makes tons of jokes and lighthearted conversations to keep you awake. you honestly appreciate his efforts for going out of his way to take care of you even when he didn’t have to, but all he does is smile with a little shrug of his shoulders, claiming it wasn’t much of a bother for him at all.

perhaps the calmest part of your evening, and it felt more than refreshing to just talk with someone, despite your drowsy remarks and the world beginning to blur.

when you arrive home, he carefully sets you down and helps you stand properly, watching as you insert the key into your door knob while repetitively thanking him with a tired smile for taking you home.

“not a problem, y/n. just glad you had fun tonight! get some rest soon.”

it’s only when you begrudgingly reach your bedroom and slide out of your shoes, that you realize gorou’s jacket is still hanging over your shoulders. how the hell did the both of you even forget about it?

you negligently totter over towards your ajar window, surveying around to see if the boy was still somehow waiting there…only to be greeted by the deserted sight of your streets, and the once darkened sky of the evening gradually begin to illuminate, amidst the unperturbed serenity of the slumbering neighborhood.

well…

there was always next time.

Ya'll remember that casita domain for SAGAU i had in mind??

here you guys go lol

sorry it took a while but here it is skdhsj it's kinda short tbh...

oh and ah impostor au

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Your feet finally gave in, falling face first onto a soft patch of grass that wasn't there before. It's strange; there should be nothing but dirt and debris below you, yet there was grass to cushion your fall somewhat instead.

You look back, the Archons seemed so much farther away now, but you still wanted to run despite your body begging for rest. You manage to sit up, looking down at the grass as a flower had bloomed from where your head landed.

'Was the flower always there?' You wondered, to which Teyvat answered your question by blooming yet another flower next to it, and another one, and another, and another. The flowers kept going in a line; all of the blooms in your favourite colors and comforting scents.

Nowhere else to go, you follow the flower trail. The closer you got to where they were leading you, the more flowers sprouted from the ground; each one seemingly trying to best the one before it, until a garden itself formed as you crossed a river.

Deciding to take a short break to rinse off, Teyvat hurriedly redecorates your old domain; a domain you were most familiar with and missed the most, your home.

Teyvat listens to the wishes of its creator; replacing all the luxurious architecture to the simple establishment you once sought comfort in. Sculptures of your divine being replaced by old trinkets you once bought when out with friends– or anything similar Teyvat had to offer.

Any trace of your divinity was gone, all that was left was the place you longed to return to the most.

You were home.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

It took a while, getting used to your somewhat new surroundings. Everything was familiar yet off; such as Teyvat substituting the electronics of your old house back in your world with electro slimes that wanted to be pet and played with; airconditioning replaced by mist flowers that were placed strategically by the windows to circulate the cool air.

(Alternatively, flaming flowers for heaters lmao)

Trying to sleep at night was terrible, though. You would wake up in tears, shaking and sweating all over as you recall the abuse you had endured. Teyvat had to remind you you were safe, the bed shaking ever so slightly to try and get the blanket on you again, or a basket of sunsettias and apples being brought to your desk by a small anemo slime.

You refused to step outside your new domain, and Teyvat knew this. After one particularly terrible nightmare, Teyvat had one more gift for you.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"I'm going, I'm going!" You chuckle as the floor below you urged you to the front door. You shake slightly as the door opened to reveal the outside. It was so deceptively beautiful, it scared you.

"Teyvat..."

The ground shakes, mountains forming to seal off any entry to get to you. You were safe now.

"Thank you."

Wealth, Fame and Power? Perfection.

Summary: SAGAU but you're from a historical manhwa. Part 1

Warnings: NO BETA WE DIE LIKE CREPUS

The mansion was crowded. Noise of chatters can be heard from here to there as they talked about all sorts of topics you can think of. They were the people of power. Both against and the one who supports the Duchy/Dukedom

The ones who supports the Duchy/Dukedom celebrated the return of the rightful heir, the one who will be a part of the royal family in the future, as they were engaged with the crown prince/princess.

But the ones against them were in rage. How dare they come back? Did the assasins they sent wasn't enough? Did the royal family helped them? There were so many questions in their mind, still thinking about their own selfishness.

There are people who are neautral. The ones who wants to watch the ongoing fight come to an end. “Who do you think will win?” An old woman asked the other who was beside her—a countess.

“For me, It's the duchess/duke.” The countess answered proudly “It's not about how many people are on their side but it's how smart and powerful they are. Sure, the opposing side has more numbers of men but remember, the duchess/duke has the royal family's support.” she added, chuckling at the mere idea of the duchess/duke starting the chaos.

“They can basically do whatever they want!” The noble woman sighed as the countess laughed at her own statement, stopping when they heard the announcement.

“The Duke/Duchess— Y/N of the L/N clan has arrived! Pay your respects!” Everyone got on their knees and bowed their head down, even the ones against them couldn't do anything. not when you feel their eyes shooting ice cold daggers at everyone under them. The true power of the next heir of the duchy/dukedom and the next in line for the throne.

“Amazing... They've completely got all silent!” Venti screamed. But not too loud, just enough for the other three to hear. “Is our God also a God here?! What kinds of vision you think they have?!” he excitedly looked at Zhongli, who was busy looking at you. “I don't know...” He answered. “But one thing's for certain. We need to show are God that we're better than them! Better than those sneaky humans wanting to have a fight with our God! MUAHAHAHA” Venti laughed scarily, making Albedo and Ei look at him with a shut-up-bard-we-didn't-ask face.

But deep down, they knew Venti was right. You have everything and you can get anything in this world, as you were the one in control here, looking at how you made those humans shake in fear under your ice cold gaze, making them feel your authority.

So they looked at each other one more time and nodded, signalling to make another plan and that this won't work.

You're not safe in here.

They need to get you out of here.

You have more power in Teyvat.

And the people here are far too weak to protect you.

So they'll give plan b a go.

taglist: @chibikiibielle @dapperishere @under-a-starry-night @zhongchi14 @ognenniyvolk @callmemeelah @irethepotato @bardisipatos @uchihaeirin @chaosinanutshell @thatgoodolswitcharoo @lotterymology @aykolovescats

Special taglist: @nicebonescomrade @is-very-sad @i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry @white-like-dis @willowedwisteria

— ɢᴏᴅꜰᴀʟʟ

✧ notes ; The Tsaritsa, Childe / Foul Legacy, Zhongli, Ei, Venti | Fatui / Villain AU ✧ warnings ; blood, physical violence, eye trauma [ implied ] ✧ taglist ; @ognenniyvolk​

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Pinkie Promise - Yan Scaramouche x [GN/NB] Reader

Note: The reader is implied to be nb. Instead of mom or dad, the reader is referred to as baba. 

Warnings: Yandere stuff, mention of death, kidnapping, coercion

Word Count: 2.6k

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hey same ur zhongli post and it was sick!! could you write smthing where the reader has a rifthound plush irl?? like maybe how charcters would react to them favoring rifthounds or smthing??

Coming right up!

Since you didn't specify which characters, I went ahead and picked Childe and Albedo. If you'd like to see it with others, let me know, and I'll add them in a part 2. Hope you like it!

Childe

When you first pulled him away from a fight against the wolves of the rift, the Harbinger believed it was his safety you were concerned about. Not that he didn't believe he could take them on, of course, but it was endearing that you cared so much about him that you did not wish for him to be wounded.

That illusion would be broken when, moments later, you guided him to fight a group of various machines with no regard for his wellbeing whatsoever - if your team healer healed him, good, if your team didn't have a healer, well, Childe would simply have to hold on tight and hope the damage he dealt was greater than the damage inflicted upon him.

You guided him around Seirai Island, seemingly busy catching some odd blue mushrooms. The more time passed, the more Tartaglia understood just what had happened. The Rifthounds were the only enemy you hesitated to destroy, avoiding a fight until absolutely necessary, and sometimes just having him stand at a distance just so you could observe them in their natural state.

As menacing as the beasts looked, he supposed that to a being such as you, they'd essentially be like puppies. That would certainly explain your hesitance to fight. In a way, he guessed it was no different to Teucer's admiration of mister Cyclops. He didn't doubt your knowledge of what Rifthounds were capable of, of course - part of him even believed that their fighting prowess had also managed to impress you (even if that part was only there so he, too, could feel loved by association). Still, you had most definitely categorized the beasts as something you wished to befriend.

The moment he found himself back in Liyue, the warmth of your presence gone, Childe knew what he had to do. Pulling a few strings here and there, using up some Northland funds that would fly under the radar (especially after the whole Funeral Fiasco), he got to commissioning the best craftsmen he could find. Soon enough, upon opening your in-game mailbox, you would find an incredibly accurate plush replica of one of the hounds, with a message from Liyue's resident Fatui menace.

He could feel your surprise radiating from (through?) the Traveler, as you wondered what sort of random event you'd started, but, hey, not like you were complaining. A rifthound bonus was always a good bonus to receive.

A smug grin was present on the Harbinger's face the next time he visited your teapot. Proudly sitting on a nightstand beside one of the beds was the plushie he'd sent you, and Ajax could not resist ruffling the toy's fluffy mane... Before quickly fixing the mess once he remembered that he should definitely not be messing with your belongings. Either way, he was quite thankful for the plush, because after receiving it you'd immediately granted him an unbelievable increase of strenght- no doubt a reward for a job well done. Knowing that such a small gift had given him your favor, even if just for a while, had Childe absolutely over the moon. Had he a little less self restraint and you'd find your mailbox filled with all sorts of Rifthound themed souvenirs. He had the funds and the time to provide them, after all...

Albedo

When the alchemist known as Gold had created the Rifthounds, they'd been nothing but a footnote - a residual sketch that had not meant to be, and that by all laws of nature, should've vanished long ago. Since he'd caught word of their resurfacing, Albedo had asked himself why it was that they, like weeds in a garden, persevered with such ease and intensity.

The answer, it seemed, was you, like for many other mysterious things in the world of Teyvat. For some reason, you'd decided the wolves of the rift were your favorites, and you didn't seem likely to change your mind. He'd found about your unexpected preference upon coming across an unusual plush sitting on your bedside table in the Teapot you'd designed. Someone had apparently gifted you a toy rifthound, and you'd certainly cherished it.

It baffled him for the first few days, that's certain, but had given him a new project. While regular Rifthounds were prone to bouts of aggression, and the alchemist feared for the safety of your vessels (or, heavens forbid, your own, should you descend upon Teyvat in a more solid form) in case you decided to try and tame one, they were also a creation of his master. This to say, Albedo was fairly certain that, by finding the notes in which Rhinedottir had doodled the hounds, he would be able to replicate their appearance, while modifying them just enough to be a little more docile.

It'd be a lengthy process, he was certain, but perhaps by enlisting the Traveler's help, he'd be able to track down his master's old sketches, and, after rigorous experimentation, he was certain to have the best offering you'd ever received: your very own Rifthound companion.

Frankly, he shouldn't have been surprised when he noticed your aura around the Traveler when the blonde finally arrived at his camp. It seemed that they liked to wait for you before taking on any request deemed important enough.

Albedo didn't need to say out loud that he felt warmer at the thought of you considering aiding him something important.

________

As for you, you'd gotten an unexpected quest to visit Albedo's camp in Dragonspine. Confused, you checked the event page - had you missed something?

Oddly enough, there seemed to be nothing there other than the events you were already aware of, but, hey, a character quest was a character quest, so, you rearranged your team to better suit Dragonspine and teleported right next to his camp.

Sure enough, the alchemist was there, and if that alone hadn't driven home the point that this was no ordinary quest, what he said afterwards certainly did. Recovering his master's lost notes... That seemed like an important bit of the lore - far too important to be glossed over.

You refreshed the event page and your eyes widened, a grin making its way into your features as the familiar shape of a rifthound made its appearance.

Rifthound lore? On your event page? More likely than you'd think, apparently. You quickly put aside whatever plans you had for the game that day and got your team on the case, following Albedo in his quest to retrace his master's footsteps and find how the beasts had come into being.

Your joy was palpable when, by the end of the quest, once you'd delved into a domain covered in cobwebs and dust and failed experiments to piece together fragments of Gold's writings, you found Albedo enlisting the Traveler's help to recreate one of the wolves.

Maybe you could get it as a quest reward and keep your own rifthound pet! Hopefully that was the direction in which this was headed...

Through an incredibly detailed tree of dialogue from the Traveler (you weren't sure you'd ever seen an event with this many options before, but hey, it's not like you were complaining), and after a few failed attempts, you saw your hound taking shape on Albedo's sketchbook.

"It seems we've succeeded this time." The alchemist mused. The drawing did look clearer this time, and you crossed your fingers hoping it would work.

You held your breath at the cutscene that came after, please, please let this one work... The previour three attempts had failed, the first falling apart during the stabilisation process, the second and third having turned aggressive the moment they jumped out. You didn't think you had it in you to defeat another of your creations - not only because they were adorable and made by you, but because these ones sure knew how to leave your team needing some tea-break pancakes. If the fourth one followed the pattern of getting even stronger, then...

It solidified before you, the pieces snapping together with a flash of golden light. You watched attentively as the creature made no movements to attack. The Traveler closed their eyes and reached out as Paimon looked on, shaking nervously.

And the wolf's snout met the blonde's hand, the notification of an achievement popping up as the tense music from before turned into a lighter tune. The hound sniffed the Traveler and Paimon, before licking both of their faces and running around in the characteristic floating manner of the wolves of the rift.

The rewards of the quest popped up on your screen, but, at the moment, you couldn't care less. What mattered was that you had your very own Rifthound following you around, seelie-style, and that you would take him all around Teyvat. Perhaps you'd even be able to place him in your teapot... If so, he definitely deserved his own room.

________

Albedo watched as the Traveler disappeared, jumping instead of walking away, trailed by a slightly jealous Paimon and an equally jumpy Rifthound. To anyone not familiar with the mannerisms of vessels, the scene would've seemed rather odd, but, to the alchemist, it merely looked like a mark of his success.

He'd been nervous when the first hounds failed - seen your excitement at creating them only to have it be crushed by the idea of being forced to destroy them - but whether through your sheer will or his dedication to not let you down a fourth time, the wolf that now followed you around gained life.

Not only that, but he'd also managed to gather a lot of his master's lost notes... You'd assembled even those that had little to do with the hounds, handing him an almlst complete journal. He glanced at the spot where it rested, neatly, unassumingly.

Once again, he'd have you to thank for a huge leap in his research progress.

remote working ! (twothau w/ gn!reader)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

salutations. remote working (requested by anon)

addressed. diluc, kaeya, tartaglia, zhongli, thoma, xiao, scaramouche, and arataki itto

content. mentions of covid-19, fluff/no-angst, mild swearing, wholesomeness, modern!au, yakuza!au, this fic is based on the way of the househusband

sypnosis. how househusbands are like with you remote working (work at home) during the pandemic.

penpals. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii

links. the way of the househusband au | teyvat's penpal service | requests info

post-script. shoutout to my bestie irl who helped me out with her big brain on xiao, kaeya, and scaramouche's parts <<3

DOESN’T GO TO YOUR OFFICE — diluc

when you first told DILUC that you'll start working at home from now on, he was relieved. ever since the announcement of a certain virus that's been infecting everyone like wildfire, the man could only worry about your safety – especially since your workplace has so much people – so now that you're officially working at home, he can now rest peacefully.

as someone who respects privacy and silence, diluc makes sure to not be noisy outside, including not vacuuming in front of your office and wouldn't put the volume on the tv to the max (im sorry but hes honestly the type to make his tv loud just to have a bg noise), which you appreciate a lot. though you wonder if he forgot the fact that your office is sound-proof.

he also doesn't want to go to your office, mainly because he doesn't want to be seen by your nosy colleagues and because he simply doesn't want to disturb your meetings with his presence. it's like the tables have been turned around the both of you since back then, you're the one who didn't want to interrupt with his work.

sometimes when he feels like it, diluc would send you a text message and ask if you'd like him to bring a drink or snack to your office. if you said yes, expect yourself to hear a few knocks one second after you sent your message. turns out, he was actually supposed to come in to your office unannounced with your drink and snacks but decided to text you first because of his conscience bothering him. it'll take months before he'll actually start visiting your office without having to text you that's a lie, he'll never do it.

LOVES YOUR BOSS MOMENTS — childe, kaeya

the moment you informed CHILDE that you’ll be working at home, he was honestly curious to see how you work. are you the type to scold many of your coworkers in a scary manner? are you the fun and chill type that made your coworkers love you? ah, so many questions !!

eventually his curiosity was lifted when he overheard you while he was cleaning outside your office, causing him to stop cleaning for a moment to hear what you're saying to your colleagues, listening to you destroying your coworker for something they’re trying to bring you down from.

it only increased his love for you because wow, who knew you would be such a boss at your job? don’t get him wrong, he very much knows how great you are — it just astounds him since you’re so closed off about your work ! childe could only smile from just imagining how scared his old subordinates would be if you were a part of his organization.

expect him to try and convince you to start telling many of your work stories — doesn’t matter if they’re all embarrassing in your eyes — as long as you tell him the ones where you prove yourself that you’re a boss (as you should !!)

KAEYA would be happy that you no longer have to go out to your crowded workplace and risk your health anymore when you told him. he feels even more unease when it comes to your safety since there’s been a virus that’s been causing so much trouble for everyone, so now that you’ll stay home until it’s considered safe to go out, kaeya can live happily.

unlike childe, kaeya only gets to see your angry side when your coworkers didn’t do their job and would think wow, you're so cute when you're angry as if he hasn't seen you being mad at him at all. he doesn’t even have to go near your office to hear your angry voice because he can simply hear it from where he is (given that unlike diluc’s, your office isn't sound-proof).

during those times when you're mad, kaeya will make sure to help you calm down after the meeting. he'll either stop by your office to give you a snack and drink or cuddle with you until your next meeting starts. if you're into sweet-talk, then kaeya's the right person for you, expect him to start telling you sweet-nothings in your ear and do everything he can to make you smile or make your cheeks feel warmer than a stove.

as much as kaeya adores your boss moments, he doesn't like how you're too busy with your work because of your piled up works to do. whenever you sometimes overwork yourself from the amount of work you've been given, your lover will make sure to make you take breaks every now and then by dragging you out from your office and spend time with him even if it takes a few minutes. you may be cute but not when you're stressed and overworked >:00 !!

VISITS YOUR OFFICE TO GIVE YOU FOOD — thoma, zhongli

when THOMA finds out that you'll start doing your work at home, he beams. mainly because you don't have to get out from your home and risk your health and definitely not because he misses you a lot.

he would often find himself at the kitchen daily even more than before, trying out snack recipes that he thinks you’d like as taroumaru watches from afar, eating his dog treat happily as always. if he deems the said snack worthy, then thoma will immediately take it away to your office and give it to you with taroumaru following.

however, unlike the rest of the househusbands besides diluc and scaramouche, thoma wouldn't be seen by your colleagues since he makes sure that he's not seen in your screen – whether it'd be going behind your laptop and place the food beside your things, or stay a few steps away from you and just give you a thumbs up before rushing off outside to not disturb you anymore.

whenever you're done with your meetings, you always have your favorite choice of drink waiting outside with your lover and dog watching a movie or resting while waiting for you to finish. expect him to try and help you clean up your desk so that you can have a tidy spot for once.

sweet-sweet ZHONGLI, who smiles so wide when he realizes that he won’t have to feel lonely anymore because of the fact that you’ll be staying home without going out to work. expect him to take you to your workplace to get your things and will help you start rearranging your office to make it more comfortable and suitable for your online meetings.

sweet-sweet zhongli, who makes sure to be quiet whenever he’s outside of your office and always prepares snacks for you. it’s scary how he always knows when you’re craving for something to eat, something that he excuse it as a coincidence and chuckles about it. he likes to think that it’s an instinct of his to know when you’re starving and/or know what you want.

sweet-sweet zhongli, who always makes sure to knock on your door before entering with foods that’ll surely make your mouth water at the aroma alone. at this point, it’s normal for your colleagues to see his lower body coming to view in your screen and putting down the tray that has your meal. they actually find it endearing and a bit jealous.

sweet zhongli, who listens to what you did for work as he massages your shoulders happily after your tiring meetings, adding a few comments here and there so that you’ll know that he’s listening to your rants. he's that good of a househusband <<3

SOMETIMES IN THE BACKGROUND — itto, xiao

ITTO felt excited when you said you'll start working at home, thinking that you meant that you’re willing to help him with the farm – only to find out that you meant you're actually still working in your career but at home, much to his sadness. nevertheless though, he was still happy because hey, at least you're now staying with him 24/7 :DD !!

like diluc, itto wouldn't dare to enter your office during your meetings in fear of disturbing you as well. despite that though, your colleagues know him already because of your choice of.. background.

you see, your office has a window that shows the beautiful view of the farm and field, something that you thought would look great as your background since the window is behind you and is visibly seen to your colleagues. what you don't think about is the fact that your husband could be seen by your many colleagues – leading many occasions where they can see itto talking with his farm- animals and/or getting chased by chickens and hens.

it only took you a long time before you realized that itto can be seen thanks to one of your friends who pointed it out, causing you to feel your cheeks warming when you realized your mistake. how could you face your lover knowing that almost all of your colleagues have seen the things he did outside?!

XIAO felt like the gods have smiled upon him when he found out about the new changes in your work. he’s been anxiously waiting for the announcement of what will happen to your and your company, so now that it's official that you'll be staying at home, he won't have to worry about anything regarding you catching the virus.

now, unlike most househusbands, your office is an open-door room that leads to the kitchen and dining area, causing xiao to be often seen by your colleagues doing random things. whether it'd be cleaning up some items in the background, walking by but accidentally tripped, cooking a meal, or even eat almond tofu nearby, not knowing that he can be seen. you didn't bother telling him since you assumed he knew.

sometimes, you'd feel like a boomer. especially during the first month of remote working since you had never used zoom or any online meeting apps, so you often come up to xiao when it comes to encountering technical difficulties. thankfully, xiao's been with zhongli for a long time to know how to fix your problems and/or answer your questions. he's basically a technician to you now.

NOISY AS FU— — scaramouche

“so? i’m still your alarm either way.” is SCARAMOUCHE’s response when you first told him that you’ll start working at home. in reality, he was lowkey relieved since he didn't want you to risk yourself to go to work.

just like diluc, scaramouche respects boundaries and silence, so he makes sure to not interrupt any of your meetings. he'll only enter if he wants to let you know that he'll be going out to buy some groceries or if he brings you a drink after you texted him.

now, despite not being able to enter your office, he's often... loud outside without realizing it.

it's not that he's intentionally loud to disturb you – no, no – he just gets a bit clumsy whenever he cleans. whenever scaramouche cleans, he sometimes gets too deep in his thoughts that he doesn't pay attention to his surroundings besides the one he's cleaning in, leaving him accidentally stumping his toe on one of the table legs and speak in colorful language, much to your embarrassment and shock when you’re in your office hearing it. thankfully it only happens when you're not talking (so far, at least).

besides that, on occasions when you're taking a "short" break while waiting for your next meeting, scaramouche will make sure to keep an eye on the time to let you know when you need to go back in case you ended up procrastinating. if you ever say “just a few minutes”, you can say goodbye to your sweet bed because your husband will literally drag you away towards your office. it's honestly scary how strong he is 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

#heart in paradise, body in abyss

synopsis: you may be kind enough to forgive but never to forget. those who would've cherished you the most know it, perhaps too well.

warnings: yandere content, yandere cult stuff, mentions of harassment and violence, mentions of death; impostor is referred with fem!pronouns but does not mirror reader’s gender

note: @nicebonescomrade's villain au that @mikachuchu brought to my attention :)) i'm not too proud of it, but i hope it's good lkasngldfag

“you will never know kindness, not even in death will you find peace."

perhaps, it's true that you'll never know kindness. you’ll never feel it on your skin when the breeze of mondstadt tickles your cheeks. you’ll never see it on the kind faces of the citizens of liyue. you’ll never hear it from the gentle pluck of a zither. you’ll never envision it when the stars align once more in place long forgotten.

maybe that is what fate has decided as your body caved into the pain, and the tests of your strength has failed you. your legs had long gone numb, your arms just the same. it’s such a nice place to rest, you think. if only it could stay that way for you, letting yourself fall into the solitude of nature once for all; you’d never have to run until your lungs have pit, never had to starve in the midst of being hunted down.

you no longer recall whatever fault it is they decided you committed, only offensive enough to invoke the wrath of those you loved once upon a time. it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, knowing that the era of your laughter has long passed. instead, it has been replace of an age where the reign of such a tyrannical ruler clawed at you.

the swift rustle of grass keeps you wide awake, even when the call of death coaxes you to finally close your eyes and rest your weary soul. the sickening high-pitched laugh of teyvat’s beloved deity rings in your ear that you’ve come to akin to the annoying buzz of a mosquito. you wheeze painfully on the forest opening, accepting your fate.

your gaze remains on the cloudless sky before you, too painful to move even a single muscle of your body. you don’t even care to identify which characters on your past roster that she brought with her.

“given up, i see.” her tone is obnoxious, yet you can only imagine of shutting her up; you’re too powerless to ever go up against the characters you oh, so tirelessly built for months on end. how ironic that they’d kill you with the weapons that you provided for them.

“can you hurry it up? i’m tired enough as it is. i don’t even want to deal with you anymore.” you’re able to pick up all kinds of sounds after that, a few growls and clicks of tongues. nothing you aren’t used to before.

“be more respectful to her grace, scum—” you faintly hear the voice of scaramouche as footsteps indicate someone has moved closer— “you’re lucky that our beloved god has shown you kindness. if it weren’t for her, we would’ve killed you where you stood.”

you almost want to double over.

“kindness?” you wheeze painfully. “what do you know about kindness?”

“mercy.” zhongli retorts from afar. “it’ll be the only kindness you’ve been shown, yet you don’t even deserve it.”

despite the ache that roots itself deep within your bones, you force yourself to smile. a cloud drifts right in front of you, and you wonder what it’d be like if you were one. at least, you’d be able to live in bliss, no longer paranoid if you’ll live to see the next day.

“i suppose offering a little more wouldn’t hurt,” their god exclaims and puffs out their chest in pride, “say your last words. it’s the least i can give for such a pitiful creature.”

“last words, huh?” you hum. there’s nothing in particular in your head. you’ve long since been abandoned by the ones you’ve cared for the most, so who’d even be kind enough to give you a eulogy? you can no longer dwell on the pain, to spout out curses in your last moments. instead, you reminisce on the times of joy.

the grass underneath you caresses your skin as you sink further into the earth, back into the soil from whence you came. "i knew kindness once— offered it, even. i always thought that teyvat was a beautiful place, but i underestimated just how cruel it would be."

"the merriment of mondstadt's windblume festival, the lights of liyue's lantern rite, the fireworks of inazuma's summer festival— i'll never forget them. the adventures we went on, and the time i spent with you all are things i cherish the most." you smile. "maybe somewhere in my heart, i can find it to forgive you. i'm just thankful for the good memories."

as soon as that is said, your face falls once more, and the grin on your lips drop into a frown. "but i'll never forget what you've all done to me."

liquid gold drips down your nose, and you can just imagine the horrified looks on their faces now that the truth has come out. you, their true god, would die of the injuries inflicted by your very own acolytes; it'd make such a good drama, you muse. you've lost enough feeling in your body that you fail to register the desperate hands that run up and down your limbs in hopes of soothing the pain that pulsates underneath your skin.

a shriek rings in the air, and you're mildly surprised it isn't yours. you find yourself crowded by all kinds of bodies, but you can't force yourself to care. if you die here, at least you were kind enough to show them the truth— even if it meant leaving them to blame themselves for teyvat's downfall.

Fate, Intertwined

Tartaglia never cared much for worship of the Overseer. Until he learnt of the perks that came with it.

Warnings: Childe speaks one language and it is battle, and unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) for him the player is fluent.

_________________

It began with rage.

The Traveler, nuisance extraordinaire, in cahoots with Rex Lapis to fake the Archon's death and stealthily hide the Gnosis - or so Childe had thought when he raised his blade at the blonde - and to make a complete fool out of him. Oh, how he'd wanted to crush them then and there, mission be damned.

The rage turned into surprise and then into begrudging respect when the Outlander matched his blows, holding their own against the might of his Vision, his Delusion - admirable, really. By the time he'd been forced into Foul Legacy, the battle-hungry Harbinger already wore a smile on his concealed face, rage cast aside momentarily. It had been long since he'd enjoyed such a fight, and he was determined to make the most of it, no leftover annoyance or anger to blind his senses and deprive him from the joy and intensity of combat.

He did not feel you during that battle. Or, at least, did not recognise your presence, guiding his opponent's moves. How could he, when you had yet to take him as a vessel? Ajax was far from a dedicated worshipper at that point, having heard of your existence in passing and disregarded it as nothing more than folk tales. Even if the Overseer was real, he used to think to himself, the only god he followed was the Tsaritsa, and that was simply because she had allowed him to grow stronger. If you wanted him as an acolyte, he'd told Zhongli once, you'd have to come to Teyvat and fight him yourself. If you bested him, he'd follow you to the ends of Teyvat and beyond, but he had no time for a god who didn't bother to show face in the battlefield.

The week that followed, the Traveler returned. And in the next. And in the one after that. It became routine, so much so that he started making room in his schedule to fit the weekly arrangement. When asked about it, the Harbinger only smiled. "I'm meeting a friend."

Then, the starshowers happened. He'd never cared much to learn what they meant, but had, in passing, heard they were tied to you. He wouldn't deny, it was a beautiful spectacle, but Tartaglia rarely had the time to stop and enjoy the show. So, he'd just chosen to look at them once and call it a day.

The stars didn't seem to agree with this course of action.

He could swear he was hearing someone calling for him, but no matter how many times he turned around, he just couldn't figure out who. There was also the matter of the constant tugging. He'd never felt something like that, as if binding ropes pulled him in a direction he could not comprehend.

They came to him both awake and in dreams - "Come home, Childe. Come home."

It eventually got so bad he resorted to Bubu Pharmacy. He was barely getting any sleep, and it seemed that the more he fought off the pulling sensation, the stronger it got. Unrelenting. Unwavering. Unyielding.

Ajax. Come home.

"Qiqi knows. Qiqi thinks... Qiqi can answer for you."

Ajax wasn't sure whether sending a child to whatever had tormented him the last few weeks was a good idea, but his objections were cut short by an unsettlingly familiar aura taking over the zombie. He'd felt that before, he knew it. Sensing the Harbinger's poorly veiled distress, doctor Baizhu placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Qiqi will be fine. She's undergone this process thrice before. I believe the call you mentioned feeling has something to do with being a chosen vessel. Qiqi is one already, but answering the call every now and then seems to make her healing more efficient."

Slightly more relieved, Childe walked out of Bubu Pharmacy. Perhaps he'd take some time to relax before heading back to work...

As for you, you were ready to snap the ginger in half. Not only had he made you hit hard pity, he'd had the audacity to not come home. In his stead, Qiqi.

Between heading to the golden house and kicking his ass and simply shutting off for the day, fate decided you'd go with the first one, taking out your frustrations on the very cause of them. Childish, perhaps, but hey, you still hadn't reaped that week's rewards. And he deserved it. You'd definitely add your now C3 Qiqi to the party.

Ajax's plans to relax were as ruined as your 50/50 as he felt himself suddenly teleported to the Golden House.

You didn't give him time to do his cutscene before striking, uninterested in hearing him talk. The traveler and the rest of your team moved fast and efficiently, forcing the Harbinger to take on his delusion's power earlier than usual.

"Comrade! You seem... Hah... Really mad at me. I don't know what I did this time, but rest assured, I won't just lie down and take it!"

"You'll die either way."

This voice... Wasn't the traveler's.

Ajax knew the blonde would sometimes bring in some travel companions, and that day had been no exception. However, the voice that rung through the Golden House didn't seem to belong to any of them, but still coming from them all the same.

Like the glowing aura they emitted.

The one he'd associated to the Traveler, the same one he'd seen around that young cook from Wanmin, and the Yuheng of the Qixing.

The same one that had taken hold of Qiqi earlier that day.

Why had he never noticed it?

It was stronger, pushing against him with a force equal or greater than the one that had pulled at his very spirit over the last weeks. The voice that had rung through the hall... It was the same that had been calling him, begging for him to give in.

Archons help him, you'd actually made good on his challenge. You wanted him as an acolyte, and had come to fight him for it.

He took on his Foul Legacy form, laughing as he did so. His initial shock had worn off, and he fully intended on enjoying this fight to the fullest.

"Bring it, Overseer!"

You didn't hear him, too focused on the best way to get the job done. Switching back amd forth between team members, adding a few boosting foods and potions in the meantime, you intended on taking out your frustrations by absolutely obliterating the Harbinger as quick as you could.

He didn't want to come home? Fine. Your team was already strong without him anyway. It wasn't like you'd saved up like crazy only to have your hopes shattered...

Meanwhile, Tartaglia was having second thoughts. The people on your team... None of them should've been able to best him so easily, save for the Traveler. None of them was known for being a warrior, none had trained like he had, logically, they shouldn't have been stronger than him. And yet there he was, losing. So this is the power you could offer...

No matter how strong Childe's Foul Legacy was, it could not compete against the power of a well-built vessel, much less four. Sooner than the ginger expected, he found himself defeated, the sting of knowing he could've reached such strenght had he taken the time to learn a bit more about you hurting far more than the strain of his Abyssal form or the wounds left by the sparring session.

He needed to fix it. He needed to catch your attention again, needed to put himself in your hands. You clearly wanted him as a vessel, there was no doubt in his mind about it, and oh was he eager to be yours now. With your aid, who knows if anything would be able to stop him? He'd become devout if that's what you wished, anything, everything to have that sort of strenght.

"You're a cut... Above..."

You heard the usual voiceline as you collected the rewards from the ley line blossom, and once you checked them you nearly fell off your chair.

"What the...!?"

An intertwined fate. Defeating Childe had granted you an intertwined fate.

That was not one of his usual drops. Scratch that, you didn't think non-event bosses dropped those at all! You checked your banner page. Yep, there it was. One intertwined fate. In your inventory, too.

"Very funny. Very funny. Made me waste my primogems..."

If you didn't know better, you'd say he was taunting you.

Oh well.

It was enough for one pull.

You did not have high hopes, but hey, if anything, it would build up pity. You'd usually walk to a specific spot for better luck, but this time, you didn't bother. Bastard wasn't coming, so why take the time?

You pressed the button and stars flew through the sky.

He didn't even hear you call this time. As soon as Ajax saw the first bright lines painting the sky, and felt the faintest tug, he followed along eagerly. He had one chance, and did not intend to let it slip away again.

The star turned gold.

"EXCUSE ME?!?"

On your screen, lo and behold, the evasive harbinger had come home. With zero pity, in a single pull, outside of a designated pulling zone.

You didn't know whether to build him or throw him off a cliff so he'd think about what he did. Maybe let him spend some more time with Zhongli so he'd understand the pain of having someone ruin your savings.

"You, Ajax, are officially a pain in the ass."

At least now he was home. Which was the bare minimum, but an improvement nonetheless. Opening the character screen, you got to putting the materials you'd farmed in advance to good use, unaware of the victorious grin on the Harbinger's face as he felt the newfound power coursing through his body.

Umm idk how to request so pls bare with me a little 🧍🏻‍♀️😭

So uh I've been thinking about scaramouche x reader but like reader is the child of the tsaritsa or something and reader met scara when he was still with Ei. Idk I just like the idea of childhood friends to lovers <3

You don't have to do the request if you dont want to bc it probably sounds confusing! Anyways thank you and have a nice day!

Synopsis: childhood friends to lovers, with child of the tsaritsa reader

Warnings: spoilers for the end of inazuma story quest, not proofread

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Character: Scaramouche

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello! Don’t worry your request was fine, and I completely understood it! I genuinely had the thought of what scaramouches and Ei’s relationship was like, but that’s a topic for another day. Anyways, hope you enjoy and have a great day/ night! <3

His face looked like a sculpture, made from the hands of the finest crafters. You sit across from him staring at his beautiful features, eventually he had to notice, and when he did, he only reacted by tilting his head to the side.

He seemed curious, as he was scanning your face for signs of any sort of emotion. You smiled at him, and simply nodded your head, as you weren’t supposed to make any noise during important meetings.

A few days passed, and you and your mother stayed in inazuma. Your mother always loved spoiling you, and letting you explore all the places you went with her.

Walking around the courtyard of the shogun’s palace you saw a familiar face. He was sitting under a tree gazing at the ocean. You walked over to him and simply asked, “may I sit with you?” He nodded his head in reply, his eyes wide like a doe’s.

“The trees are beautiful here.” You stated, the boy seemed confused but intrigued. “The… trees?” He tilted his head just like last time, “yes. In snezhnaya they’re always covered in snow or have no leaves. It’s nice to see something different.”

“Even in summer?” The boy hesitantly asked, and you chuckled. “Yup!” He seemed to ponder for a moment, before bluntly asking, “will you show me?” This took you back, but nonetheless you nodded your head, agreeing to show him the snow that covered your homeland.

Many years had passed since that day, you saw the boy a few times after that until he just… disappeared. Never seen again. You grew quite close with him, only for him to mysteriously disappear. You promised him you’d show him snow too.

After that, you returned home to snezhnaya, and life proceeded as normal. Until a special ship arrived in the docks. The captain reported to your mother, which was unusual. They usually reported to one of the harbingers, but… this was a special case.

Because, they had found a boy on the islands of inazuma. They brought him in, shivering and yet wrapped in one of the fluffiest blankets you’ve ever seen. His indigo hair was long and messy, just as… that boy, from years ago.

His eyes widened like a doe’s and you knew. “You.” You said, and your mother looked at you with curious eyes. “You know this boy?” You nodded, and swallowed the lump in your throat, “yes he’s the… boy the raiden shogun created.”

“What should we do with him.” The captain said, he warned your mother and you that he was dangerous, and should most likely be dealt with. But, your mother always loved spoiling you, and by your request the captain handed him over to you begrudgingly.

Your smile stretched across your face, as you finally saw the boy you had grown so fond of once again. After getting him into some warmer clothes you asked, “care to see the snow?”

HII HAPPY 1K !! scaramouche + aconite + hurt/comfort >:)) all my faves in one req >:)))))

petals of resentment

tw/cw - mentions of blood, illness, angst.

a/n - HI WREN!! thank you, i hope you enjoy (even if the comfort is vv minimal oops that’s what you get for choosing scaramouche)

every word and short breath released through the cracks of your lips instilled a feeling of irritation.

the balladeer, one of great power and feared by most, was the root of your aggravation. years of working together and you still couldn’t stand the sight of the cocky twitch of his lips nor the condescending look he held you within. even the teasing lilt in his voice he seemingly carried whenever around you had the itch under your skin worsening with every interaction, until you were left with fingers clawing at your throat in hopes to relieve the tension.

it wasn’t until your chest felt tight and a lone petal fluttered to the palm of your hand from a single cough did you realize that, perhaps your irritation wasn’t directed solely to the man himself.

you stared for several quiet moments, at the shades of iris from an aconite flower cradled within your grasp. ironic if you did say so yourself, especially considering how your thoughts seemed to head straight to the irises baring a similar color. you grit your teeth at the image, crumbling the lone petal before throwing it towards the ground.

you did your best to ignore the lumps in your throat as time passed, which only seemed to worsen as the weeks went on. you completed your duties as told, went on missions when sent, and spent late nights completing paperwork when necessary. no one would ever grow aware of the pile of petals hidden within the palms of your hands.

and yet, all that effort, only for it to go to waste each time the sixth harbinger came into view.

it only fueled the resentment you held towards his figure. why was it him that had your chest tightening each time he surprised you with his presence? the cruel smirk you wished to wipe away that had a pressure build up in your throat? the tone of his voice, the fingers picking at your pride, things you wished you’d never let get the best of you that caused you to excuse yourself, until you were left to hack into your hands flowers that would create frustrated tears spilling down your cheeks.

why was it him?

“this is quite pathetic, even for you.” scaramouche, the very man you had tried to avoid, peered down at you, your figure having collapsed against the wall from the intensity of the coughs. the glare sent to him from his choice of words should’ve been enough to have anyone cower under the gaze, but it only left him with an expression that bore no smile and no mischievous glint.

“if you want to see pathetic, take a look in the river.” you tried to push yourself from the ground, only to feel the pressure build up once more when his fingers briefly touched the skin of your arm. more tears escaped down the dips of your face, half because of the thorns clawing up your throat and half because of the way his warmth, despite his cold nature, lingered.

he crouched down beside you, picking up the flower you previously let out. gently, he rolled the stem between his fingers, flicking his gaze towards you. perhaps it was your vulnerable state that caused the smile and small scoff to fill the silence of the room, “who were you stupid enough to fall in love with?”

“i don’t know.”

“you don’t know?” he raised his eyebrow at the spat of your words, continuing to smile in a way that felt as if he were making fun of the way you allowed yourself such a disease to befall upon you, and you didn’t even know the roots.

“can you shut up for just once in your life?” you grumbled, erupting another laugh from his throat. it quickly died down however when you spilled more blood onto the ground near his feet, and trembling fingers reached up to wipe the warm crimson staining the appendages of your lips.

“the tsarista can’t afford to lose another harbinger,” this time he spoke quietly, with no teasing lilt. even his gaze, set heavily on the pile of flowers by your own figure seemed to be void of the emotions you were so used to seeing, “you should get the surgery.”

“why do you all of a sudden care?” you croaked out.

pools of iris met your own, and his next words had you fighting back another urge to cough, “i don’t.”

you scoffed, trying to ignore the squeezing of your heart and the pressure begging to be released. trying to look past the gaze he was giving you, which was far too similar to concern despite his words. ‘don’t look at me like that’ you thought, for the small semblance of warmth flickering in the hollow space of your ribcage should’ve burned like the wrath of his anger.

“then let me die in peace.”

menu. pomegranate mousse cake.

aaa scara + red tulips + hurt to bittersweet fluff?

crimson flowers bloom (just know i love you too)

tw/cw - mentions of blood, light angst.

a/n - lol i kinda died but uh here ya go hopefully he isn’t too ooc it’s kinda hard to do fluff with a man with homocidal urges

the first time you told the balladeer about your infatuation for his being, he had laughed in your face, and asked if it were a cruel joke.

the flowers quickly followed, having been stuck tight inside your throat while his laughter rung in your ears, and only released when you were alone in the dark confines of your room. they blanketed the comforter of your bed, red tulips blending with the blood from the body wrecking coughs. how cruel, you thought, for something so beautiful to be the reasoning behind so many lives taken.

the fleeting thought arose when you cradled them gently in your hands, staring quietly as you studied the result of the disease well known throughout the nation. you sputtered an equally soft laugh, vaguely recalling the warnings given to you throughout childhood, and the caution over fluttering hearts and a tender touch. all over this single flower. a life created through one’s own suffering, formed through those a servant to the emotion unfortunately befalling upon them.

and molded from the love you felt for a man who would never feel the same.

you made it your sole duty to act as if the flowers and love made from your body never surfaced in the first place. tight stretched smiles that would fool any. countless hours dedicated to the work you found to be the only escape. an excuse to stay trapped in your room as the garden grew, and to blame on when one asked about the decaying corpse you found yourself stuck in.

no questions were supposed to be asked. it was why you felt both fear, irritation, and pure heartache when the man behind the poison came to your door and called you out on the lies and illusions you had so comfortably hidden yourself within.

you could hear the way the wood protested when scaramouche slammed the door shut behind him, despite your protests for his presence in the first place. you would’ve continued such banter if it weren’t for the anger so visibly trembling his hands and the gray clouds storming his eyes, “you haven’t been at your best, i can tell.”

your throat felt dry at his words, and you forced yourself to clear such obstacles in order to reply, “im trying.”

“well your effort right now isn’t enough,” his tone was still harsh, not once lightening even as he took notice of your fallen expression. instead, he hesitated before taking a small step forward, “seriously, come on! what’s up with you?”

the echo of cruel laughter rung in your brain, causing you to pick yourself up from the desk you had been working at and maneuvering your body to leave the room, “it’s nothing, scaramouche. mind your own business-”

the man scowled, face twisted into irritation. it wouldn’t have bothered you so much if he hadn’t caged your upper arm within the harsh grip of his cold fingers, “it’s my business when it affects MY work too.”

you had never been fond of scaramouche. from the moment you first met him as new recruits competing with one another for the top spots, the man had earned himself the title of least likable in anyones lives, especially yours. it was why it frustrated you that those feelings had changed so abruptly, all because of the single moment you shared showcasing vulnerability. ironically enough it reminded you of that exact moment, but instead with cold skin numbing the pain of a deep cut from an expedition, and an expression so soft he was almost unrecognizable.

it frustrated you, how it had stuck with you for so long, and eventually nurtured the petals you had been so desperately trying to kill for the past couple weeks.

scaramouche froze as you dropped yourself to the ground, and even more so when your hacking fit revealed the product of his carelessness. he tried, desperately, to clear his throat and mutter out the first words of his reaction, “you were…serious about that?”

you let your eyes remain glued to the ground, burning holes due to frustration. that was all he had to say? there you were, dying, and the man had the audacity to waste his first words on the confession you had given weeks ago, “well, doesn’t really matter now so-“

“why me?” he dropped down beside you, purple hues also fixated on the abnormal amount of blood and flowers in your hands. if you hadn’t known better, you would say he appeared broken by the realization of the outcome, “what’s so lovable about me?”

you frowned, both perplexed and upset at his strange behavior, “scaramouche-“

“why are you dying for me!” his fingers once more gripped the sides of your arms, almost shaking you with the way they trembled. scaramouche, the balladeer, appeared almost desperate, searching for something amongst the blurs of red and frustration.

“i would do anything for you.” you mumbled quietly, slowly placing your own hands over where his lay. a reassuring touch for who, you didn’t know, but it remained there as his grip tightened and he pushed his body to rest over yours.

“you cant.”

“hm?” you hummed, afraid that your voice would betray and reveal just how much the feel of his forehead resting on your collarbone, affected the disease still plaguing your body.

for a brief moment he remained quiet, before suddenly pulling back, and this time his hands gripped the sides of your face as the tone of his voice grew several octaves, “you cant!”

the lines around your lips deepened, forcing yourself to drift your gaze to rest anywhere but his expression, “my fates already sealed, there’s nothing-“

“and what if i said i cared for you?” he quickly spoke, prompting you to meet his gaze for the final time that night. it…surprised you to say the least. but the most surprising thing of all was not the glare of purple, although halfhearted, nor the frown of his lips, but rather the deep hue of red burning his cheeks, “that you’re not just some underling. you aren’t annoying and you aren’t a burden.”

you opened and closed your mouth several times before his words clicked, and several more attempts before you could speak, “are you saying…?”

instead of replying straight away scaramouche once more leaned forward, the heat of his skin burning your own, “do i need to repeat myself?”

“say it. just once,” you croaked out, caging him within your arms and desperately clinging on as if he’d disappear, “and i won’t die.”

you felt it, the gentle way his lips moved against your skin, whispering something so quiet you could barely register it. but you heard it, and it was enough to fully clear the pressure in your throat, and wilt the flowers you had grown.

menu. pomegranate mousse cake.

— title; you can feel it on the way home (you are in love)

— pairing; scaramouche x kamisato! reader

— summary; in which you and scaramouche return after eloping, but you run into your older brother in the process

— notes; please donate to my kofi (https://ko-fi.com/thirdgymbros) if you like my content and wish to support me. reblogs are appreciated !!

You’re stolen away from your home in the summer.

The days are luminous, and the nights languid and warm, the darkness is filled with a big yellow story-book moon. The Kamisato estate is still out of sight, hidden by a turn in the path. You trade quick, desperate kisses the whole way back with Scaramouche, still bathed in the shadows as the boughs of the trees around you creak in the night.

It’s odd, returning back to your family estate, with no one realising that your life is profoundly different. Who would have thought saying a few words and slipping on a ring of metal could change a person’s perception of themselves? You aren’t just the youngest child of the Kamisato clan anymore. You’re married now. You have a whole new set of responsibilities and expectations. Just thinking about it intimidates you.

Keep reading

Imagine being a Kamisato and trying to elope with Scaramouche. 

Your beloved is waiting for you in the lush gardens, waiting to spirit you away from the oppressive air of Inazuma, and you’ve been exceedingly quiet as you tiptoe through the darkened hallways of your family home. Freedom is so close, you can practically smell it. And just as you’re opening the sliding door with baited breath, it’s your older brother who confronts you.

“Leaving already?”

At first, you think that he’ll object as he studies your features, pale in the moonlight and glazed with terror. Ayato’s eyes meet yours, and for an instant, you could swear that he reads your thoughts clearly as words on a page. His eyes narrow, but after a moment he sighs and stands aside, with a soft, sad smile on his face.

“Visit us when you can.”

— title; your time is running out, and they said speak now

— pairing; scaramouche x kamisato! reader 

— warnings; arranged marriage, minor mentions of violence 

— summary; in which scaramouche steals you away before you can be married off to another man 

— notes; please donate to my kofi (https://ko-fi.com/thirdgymbros) if you like my content and wish to support me. reblogs are appreciated !!

“What?”

You stare at your older brother in abject horror. You’ve known for a while now, that since you’ve come of age, the Elders of the Kamisato family would soon be clamouring for you to be married off, preferably to another member of an equally prestigious family.

And though you’ve often imagined marrying any number of peers your age when you were younger, it had been a game to you back then, your favourites changing as often as your clothes. It had been a lovely fantasy, but that’s all it had ever been. Now, you can see so clearly, how your life is going to be squeezed into a box, by the Elders who would be perfectly content to manipulate you as one would a puppet.

Keep reading

— title; all of you, all of me (intertwined)

— pairing; scaramouche x reader

— summary; in which you and scaramouche are childhood friends, and he returns to your side after a long absence

— notes; please donate to my kofi (https://ko-fi.com/thirdgymbros) if you like my content and wish to support me. reblogs are appreciated !!

Scaramouche used to hate having you trail after him everywhere when the two of you were young. He would run, he would hide, he would call you names, but still, you refused to leave him alone. You remember exploring Chinju forest with him when his patience finally ran out. He abandoned you in the forest, and you’d sobbed and wailed your heart out, calling out his name over and over. You’d only been lost for about ten minutes before Scaramouche stomped his way back to you, his heavy footsteps shocking amidst the heavy silence.

“Stop crying already.” He’d snapped, though his fingers had been exceedingly gentle as they’d wiped the tears seeping from your eyes. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Keep reading

The death of your parents brings new responsibilities to Ayato and Ayaka, who are both preoccupied with running the clan and carrying out various other duties around Inazuma. As young as you are, your older siblings try to ensure that you have some semblance of a childhood before you’re officially given duties of your own to fulfil. Although you have lessons and numerous etiquette classes, you’re given plenty of free time as well. Time you spend flipping through picture books, or playing games with the staff, or simply wandering around the gardens and the nearby forest.

It’s on one of your wanderings that you come across another wanderer called Scaramouche. His fair skin and delicate features enthralls you almost immediately, enough that you find yourself coming back to meet him everyday. Despite the harsh lines on his face and the coolness to his words, you find that he rapidly softens in the face of your gap-toothed smile and rapid chatter. You bring Scaramouche sweets, books, games, and if he’s in a good enough mood, you can even coax him into playing with you for a little while, before he leaves again.

It seems almost natural then, that you should weave a ring of flowers in your childish, fumbling hands and slip it onto his finger with a bright proclamation of, when I’m older, I’ll marry you! Scaramouche turns bright red and sputters incoherently, the most flustered you’ve ever seen him. But you also notice the reverence with which he treats the ring, as though it’s made of precious metal and gems instead of flowers picked from the dirt.

Ayato is relieved when you return home with a spring in your step and a brightness to your smile after one of your numerous outings. He and Ayaka are both busy, and they can’t play with you as much as they used to, and he’s glad that you seem to be in high spirits. His smile dims a little when he finds out the reason for your joy - Older brother, I’m getting married to Scaramouche, and you and older sister are both invited to the wedding!

Ever the protective older brother, Ayato has the Shuumatsuban look into the identity of this ‘Scaramouche’ before he decides on the next course of action. He nearly has a heart attack when he learns that the very person you’ve been demanding to marry is a member of the Fatui.

Suddenly having brainrot over SAGAU again. What if in the imposter au, the creator developes reversed hanahaki? Like they cough out petals when they are unloved.

Imagine the angst when creator is dying from the flowers growing inside just cuz they were hated and falsely accused.

Imagine the pain of finding the body covered with pretty flowers eith golden blood man the angst :((

Childe, Scaramouche, Zhongli - Tales With the Cryo Archon

Summary: You are the Cryo Archon–a God and Ruler to Childe and Scaramouche, and an old friend to Zhongli.

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Childe, Scaramouche, Zhongli x gn!Cryo Archon!Reader

Genre: Fully written, fluff (?)

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, death.

A/N: For the lovely @cryo-visionary​ !! congrats on finishing your AP exam <3

Keep reading

Genshin Boys Seeing You in Your Wedding Dress/Suit for the First Time

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Kaeya, Thoma, Xiao, Scaramouche, Itto x gn!Reader

Genre: Bulleted headcanons, fluff, comedic, hints of hurt/comfort

Warnings: Marriage maybe but just pure fluff otherwise

A/N: I’m in the middle of exam week and I’ve written 6 papers in the last two weeks, so this might not be my most eloquent work :,)

Keep reading

favourites with friends! - childe

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Childe x gn!reader

Type/Genre: Bulleted headcanons, fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings: Mentions of blood

A/N: for @favoniuscodex‘s event! not edited yet but i will soon!!

Keep reading

Genshin Impact Self-Aware~

TW: Yandere themes throughout most of these including imprisonment, stalking and murder.

Mondstadt:

~Yandere Self-Aware Mondstadt (Male)~

~Yandere Self-Aware Mondstadt (Female)~

~Trying to Leave~

~Nuisance~

~Yandere Eula~

Liyue:

~Yandere Self-Aware Liyue (Men)~

~Yandere self-aware Liyue (Female)~

~Trapped~

Inazuma:

~Self-Aware Inazuma (Female)~

~Self-Aware Inazuma (Male)~

~Self-Aware Kaedehara Kazuah profile~

Other:

~Yandere Aether profile~

~Yandere Lumine profile~

~Yandere Dainsleif profile~

Crumbs:

~In their World~

~In our world~

~Not pulling for them~

~Self-Aware Bosses~

~Testing your limits~

Orders

Horrortober Day 30: Blackmail “Why are you doing this to me?”

First time writing for Scara, aaaaaah! It was kind of hard but also satisfying? He has this two-faced personality and I think that’s just so neat for the yandere trope! Still, go easy on me for writing for him for the first time, thanks >-<

Warnings: Yandere, Blackmailing, Implied Violence, Pulling the reader by the hair, Intimidation Characters: Scaramouche/ Kunikuzushi / Balladeer x Reader

On your desk were the proofs and receipts of your failure.

Before you, the mocking grin of a wretched soul.

You stood over your desk, leaning down at it tensely, your hands curled into fists. If not for the fact that you did not want to give the Fatui the satisfaction of having anything on you, you would have liked to sit back and despair for a while. It was but a stupid joke that Scaramouche wanted to pull on you, but unfortunately, this joke would ruin you if you weren’t careful.

With the Tenryou Commission already having made dodgy dealings with the Fatui, maybe it shouldn’t have surprised you that the same mistakes were made in your own ranks. Perhaps you had been too proud to see them happening, but with everything that was collected before you, it would be your head on the line. For as long as you could think, you had worked diligently and in the best interest of your orders. Much better than what you could say about your underlings who seemed to have striven for greatness in a very different way than you.

What was so wrong about being honorable? You wondered about it as you pushed through the documents and letters scattered on the table. Why was it so hard not to give in to the temptation of power through crooked means? All you wanted now was to be frustrated and angry. To bring these miserable blokes to justice who risked not only their fates but yours as well. You’ve put so much into your unit’s training, trying to teach them values and treated them with the deserved respect. Yet, they walked all over you in the end.

“What do you want?” you grumbled, gnawing on your lip. Putting all the evidence of misconduct into a neat pile, you wanted to raise them in the air and throw them at the Balladeer’s smug face. How dare he even showed himself in front of you again. You sent him to the moon once, and nothing had changed about your opinion of him since then. Yet, he came back as if he was a welcome guest to your office, a grin on his face as if he knew more than you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he scoffed, jokingly rolling his eyes before grinning again. “I need you to come with me. You are needed somewhere far away from here.”

“I don’t do business with your stinking organization,” you retorted, hissing the words in the hope he’d finally get the message. Scaramouche had been bugging you with this before, asking you to leave with him in case things go and don’t go the way he was planning. Crazy, considering you didn’t know him at all.

“So, you’re going to stay and see how your unit, your lifelong work, all just goes down the gutter? I can respect your worth ethic, but don’t you think you’re a little cruel to yourself?”

Getting up from his chair, Scaramouche let out a long sigh before he leaned over the desk, bringing his face too close for comfort. But you’d not back away. You had been fighting scarier opponents than the ones that looked like they were merely ten years old, yet talked like they ruled over the land you were standing on.

“You know nothing about us! Maybe if you dirty Fatui didn’t spread rumors and your disgusting Delusions, no one would have considered being led on by you!”

Even though you spat the words into his face, Scaramouche wasn’t backing away from you either. It was grossly obvious he enjoyed the challenge you were giving him, and you wondered if his life was so dull that bothering you was his only joy. “Maybe,” he chuckled.

The sudden feeling of a strange touch enveloped your fists which helped you lean on the table. A glance down, and you saw two hands caressing your skin curiously, Scaramouche only leaning closer in the moment you were distracted. “You will never know about what could have been. There is only the future we can change.”

Ripping your hands away from him, you finally recoiled. Even though you wanted to be strong and steady, not at the cost of having to be touched by someone who disgusted you so much. There were no words to describe the feeling of hatred you had for this man, who seemed to have singled you out. You barely believed your eyes when you saw him standing in your doorway, your last information having been that he left with the Fatui after their plot was uncovered.

Though you were wringing your hands to get the feeling of his fingertips off of you, it was no use. His touch was sticking to you like tree sap, repulsive, but the feeling always remained. “There is no ‘we’ in this. My future, my decisions.”

Before he could say anything more, you grabbed the papers, carrying them to the fireplace and feeding the hungry flames that awaited them. You’d have to deal with these problems, but not with the seemingly fake pieces of evidence and documents. One soldier at a time would get their deserved punishment, but you didn’t need the help of a Fatui Harbinger to do that. Clapping your hands and turning back to him, you sneered at Scaramouche from above, asking, “Anything else?”

He only continued to smile calmly, pulling another paper from his pocket and another. “How many copies do you think I have? Did you really think I’d give you the original documents? For how stupid do you take me?”

Your face dropped as you watched him produce copies left and right, almost enough to send them to every important person in Inazuma. “It’s not worth staying here, right? If anyone finds these, they will think you couldn’t stand the guilt anymore and abandoned your post. Don’t worry, we’ll be long gone by then,” he taunted you, and you tried to hide your discomposure behind anger.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” you yelled at him, losing it as he wouldn’t stop his mockery. But Scaramouche’s grin only widened in joy as he saw you lose all your cool, exactly what he wanted. He wanted to see this suffering side of you, the desperation and anger. It must have been all that’s on his mind since he came well-prepared to this meeting, one that would - if it came out you were meeting with a Fatui - already get you fired from this position you worked so hard for and had been so proud of for many years.

Finally, he stopped producing papers. No more evidence were left in his little scheme to get what he wanted, but it was enough to get you all executed. His focus was back at you wholly as he approached. Hands outstretched, he searched for yours that you folded in towards your chest, unwilling to hand them over. But you didn’t have to. Scaramouche took what he wanted regardless of how you felt about it.

“I’ve been doing all this for you, don’t you understand it? Now you’re free, and we can start over! So come with me, stop pretending it’s not what you want!”

Unable to understand what he meant, you shook your head in confusion, but Scaramouche’s grip only tightened, squeezing your hands so hard they began pumping blood through them. Free? Free of what? And what were you pretending in his opinion? The enthusiasm he had previously displayed as he threw those fake truths at you disappeared as you remained unwilling to join his joy. His expression turned into a dreadful scowl, and he gave your hands a firm tug, making you almost lose your balance as you didn’t expect it.

“Why do you keep pretending you don’t want to be with me? Are you sick? Broken? Do you need fixing? Why would you keep trying to stay here when you can be with me? You’re so annoying! Make up your mind!”

A tirade of words was screamed at your face as you desperately tried to keep up. Scaramouche was pulling you forward towards the door, more and more against your will, all while you didn’t know what any of his actions meant. You were lost, but you couldn’t help thinking that he seemed to be as well. “Stop it!” you barked back at him loudly, and only for a moment you managed to catch him off-guard, his expression showing the surprise about the loud order you made.

And suddenly, everything seemed to get worse.

“Stop?” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes dangerously. “I haven’t even started yet, you unthankful pest.”

You were thrown to the floor with unknown strength, though you quickly regained your clear thinking after the initial shock. Looking up at him, for the first time he seemed tall and scary to you as if he was going to stomp you into the ground any second now. “All I’ve been doing was for you to love me,” he revealed, and you grew more restless by the second. Who was he? You two never interacted more than once before this. Why did he think it was okay to treat you this way?

“So now, you have to love me, no matter what. You’ll come with me, even if it’s the last thing you do.”

Reaching for you, you hid your face as his hands closed in, fingers curling into your hair instead. Screams of pain erupted from your throat he pulled you after him with ease. There was no one around who could have saved you, you realized as you opened your eyes mid-scream, seeing all the bodies of your unit slumped against the walls and floor of your office building.

“See what I did for you? I prepared all these presents, you ungrateful wretch! Just for you! Be thankful and love me!”

“Stop it!” you bellowed at the top of your lunges, trying to claw at his hand buried in your hair, wanting him to let go. You had to do something! Those were still your soldiers! They relied on your help! No matter what they did wrong, they didn’t deserve to be treated this way, disrespectfully and horrifying!

“You’ll learn it soon enough,” Scaramouche laughed, though his voice carried bitterness in it now.

“I give the orders here.”

Can I get yandere scaramouche with gn reader? So, can I get where scaramouche try to find reader only to find them with their lover kissed under sakura blossom tree.

"y/n, I love so much hehe"

Reader : "haha try to flirt mmh?"

And they both basically kissed again and scaramouche saw all of that thing.

Poor reader's lover

Thanks for your request! I got an exciting idea when I read the last sentence of it >:3

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"Poor, poor thing," a male voice sighed in fake pity. Somehow the voice was very familiar to you, even though you could hear the sick smile of evil playing on his lips as he stalked around you. It gave you the feeling of talking to an old friend, and at the same time, a psychopath as well. Letting his hand fall to your shoulder, you flinched as he grabbed onto it tightly, not having expected this kind of closeness. Blindfolded and gagged, you couldn't help feeling even more scared than this situation already prompted in you.

"Did that evil man misguide you? Aren't you glad I came to your rescue?"

Struggling against the ropes that tied your wrists behind your back and to the chair you were sitting on, all sympathy for him was forgotten. What you really wanted was to leave an impact on the person that kidnapped you and your partner. Kick him, bite him, punch him so you could make a run for it, saving what was left to save. But robbed of your ability to move, speak, or even just see, you were at his mercy as he leaned forward to whisper into your ear.

"I'm usually not this nice, but for you, I'll get my hands dirty. No need to worry about him anymore."

As a cold shower ran down your spine, you felt his free hand creep up your neck and to the knot keeping the blindfold around your face. With a swift motion, it was pulled away, and you squinted at the sudden light before suddenly widening your eyes.

Before you, on a long table was your partner; just as miserably gagged and tied to the wood as you were. He looked at you with immense panic, his limbs flailing unsuccessfully as he struggled against the restraints. Unable to listen to his muffled words, you stretched and tried to focus on him when a jarring sound caught you off-guard.

Alarmed, you looked over to where the noise came from, a masked, tall man in white clothes and an apron approaching the table where your partner laid. If anxiety hadn't raged in you before, it was now spiking as you noticed the long cleaver in the man's hand, currently being sharpened as it kept producing the same metal scream over and over.

It set off a mix of fright and despair in both of you, the shining metal too close to your lover for comfort. Who were these people? What did they want? Why were they doing this to the two of you? Tears dripped from your lover's eyes, and you tried once more to free yourself. What did you two do to deserve this, you wondered as you had to watch your partner being circled, a few more men coming into view as they seemed to prepare a cruel ritual.

All of this almost made you forget about the person still standing behind you, his hands falling back on your shoulders as he let out a satisfied breath. "Do you like what I prepared for you? Front row seats as we dissect him. No need to thank me!"

A laugh followed those gruesome words as you felt your eyes brimming with tears after hearing them. Scared, muffled screams echoed through the room, and your own soon followed. "Oh? Want to do the honors? Be my guest, [Name]."

Just as quickly as the blindfold, the guy behind you pulled open the gag, the piece of wood falling from your lips followed by spit and tears. "NO!" you screamed, as loud as you could before sobs erupted from your throat, clogging your mouth and nose. "Please no! What did we do to you?!"

"Well..." was the elongated response from behind you before you felt the body shift, suddenly moving to the side before a head popped into your view.

"You--" you muttered in disbelief as you finally gave the voice a face, recognizing it after initially hesitating. You simply couldn't believe who was standing right in front of you.

"Remember me?" the young man grinned, flouncing forward with seemingly no care in the world. However, he never left you, only rounding you and blocking your view. Smiling, he cupped your cheek, letting his thumb wipe away the tears staining it. You could hardly believe it, remembering him as an experiment your parents had been conducting secretly on the Shogun's orders. Admittedly, you had been still a child back then, so when they told you they had a special task that only you could do, you were thrilled!

Naively, you felt proud of being a caretaker for the boy they were experimenting on. You'd serve him his food and have meals with him, as well as tell him about every-day-happenings. You two made up stories and played together with your toys until the fateful day you left him behind in that facility, only learning years later what this was all about.

"If... If it's revenge you seek, then do it to me! He has nothing to do with it!" you pleaded, nodding towards your partner, who was still franticly trying to escape his predicament. Back then, your parents had used you to help this puppet become more human. They wanted to teach him how to interact with others, so they searched for someone who had approximately the same age of mind as him after he was created. You were just another tool, but you did like him as a friend back then and were sad to leave. The Shogun declared him as failed, and so did everyone else. Only when your parents confronted you with all this much later in life did you realize how cruel it had been. If he survived all this time and was now extracting his vendetta against the people that abandoned him, then it shouldn't be your partner suffering over there.

"Please!" you added remorsefully, realizing the mistake that had been made even though you could hardly be faulted for it if you were honest. The research team created something and then left it to die. Maybe they did deserve this. But you and your partner were wholly unrelated, and yet, you thought better you than him. A small drop of guilt festered inside of you as well as you recalled the story. However, Kunikuzushi - as his name was - only frowned, wiping away the tears from your eyes over and over until you felt the sting or irritated skin under his fingers. "I didn't... We just... There were orders--"

"Orders?" he mocked, brows raising unbelievingly. "Oh, you mean when you just left me and never came back? You were just following orders, yeah?"

Nodding slowly, a knot formed in your stomach as his voice kept jumping from happy-go-lucky to accusatory. "We'll talk about this, don't worry, but that's not why you two are here. Are you sure you don't know what you were doing? I'll give you a hint:"

Puckering his lips, his hands squeezed your face together. Leaning forward, Kunikuzushi pressed his mouth to yours, residing there for a while as he enjoyed the warm sensation of yours. His body inched closer, yearning for the very same warmth and climbing on your lap, his fingers digging into you painfully as he tried to keep his balance.

Was this his way of making you remember the time you spent with your partner? Kuni was clumsy in his attempts to replicate this intimate gesture. Desperate, greedy—you could feel all these emotions coming through as well as the jealousy, and you began wondering how long he had been watching you. After you left, did he go out of his way to find you? Why you? Why now?

Even though he caught you off-guard with this gesture, you got a grip on yourself, eventually nudging and pulling away from him, turning your face away, ashamed and disgusted. You still saw him as the friend you once had, and your love was just across the room watching. Kuni had been insecure but curious, crying every now and then. But he certainly had changed from the sweet being he once was. It showed in the way he was treating you, how he spoke and acted. Giving him free will had been the Shogun's blessing, and you agreed with the Shogun's choice as you learned the story. Then again, by that time, you already believed him to be dead. You couldn't imagine an artificial being that acted like he did back then, to survive alone out in the world you were living in. Maybe if you could have stuck around back then and continued to be by his side, he would have turned out differently?

"What do you want?" you whispered, desperate for answers, as he pouted on your lap after your rejection.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" he sulked, making him almost seem like an ordinary boy again. Oh, how wrong you were.

His eyes snapping back to you, he gave you a big grin, leaning in close again with his arms wrapping around your neck. "I want you."

"I... We..." you sputtered. The uncomfortableness and awkwardness must have shown in your expression as you tried to avoid his gaze, turning your head side to side. However, the puppet caught you, forcing you to look ahead again with a firm grip. "Do you really think you have the choice to argue with me here?"

For a moment, you could only stare at him. Your thoughts were racing as you tried to think of a way to turn this scenario around, the situation only growing in madness by the second. But then, his lips curled into a smile again, and he let go, happily sighing into your shoulder.

"You're good with orders, right? Would you follow my orders, too?"

Even though your gut told you not to answer this lightly, you caved in. If those were Kunikuzushi's demands, and it would give you a chance to save your lover, then there was no thinking needed at all. "I will. So, please--"

"Really?" he piped up, jumping on your lap excitedly and interrupting your attempt to reason with him, shutting you down. "So if I tell you to love me, you will? Love me, love me, love me! Show me! Tell me! Only me!"

Gulping, you blinked a few times, hesitantly leaning forward to kiss his cheek. Kunikuzushi melted into your affection, fingers dancing over your shoulders excitedly as you faked returning his feelings. Whatever you had to do to satisfy him, you would, and perhaps, deep down, you'd remind him of the kind nature he was created with.

"I told you to say it," he reminded you nicely but impatiently.

"I-I love you. I always thought about you after I left."

The last part wasn't as much of a lie as it might have should been. It wasn't easy to move on after spending day after day by his side, and in your childish nativity, you had gotten way too attached to him for the good of either of you. It had been your task to feed and talk to Kuni, keep him engaged and entertained and you might have brought him candy here or read a book to him there on top of your routine. You really thought you did something nice for him, but how grave your mistake was only revealed itself now.

Chuckling, he at least appeared satisfied, his expression almost as gentle as you remembered again. But it immediately snapped back to a mocking grin as he looked down on you, drawing with his fingers over your lips and down your chin. "You'll have to say it a lot more times if you want me to actually believe it. Think you can do it before my workers cut open your dearest stomach and take out what's inside one by one?"

"I can!" you immediately yelled in panic. You thought yourself to be save by just complying, but it was the bitter truth you had to learn that you weren't dealing with a clueless doll anymore. "I can! I-I will! I'll tell you as many times as you like, just... please..."

Glancing past him, you looked into the horrified eyes of your partner, who had to witness all of this first hand. He was silent now, but you felt his pain as if it was your own. "Spare him, and I'll do whatever you want," you whispered, feeling the crushing weight of selling yourself out to this person who treated you and the man who meant the most to you, like dirt under his shoes, playing with you and stomping you into the ground inch by inch as he flaunted his power over you.

"You'll obey me...?" he questioned once more, and you focused back on him, nodding. With the last bit of strength, you could collect inside of you, you tried to look confident, hoping he'd buy that at least. Anything, you kept telling yourself. Anything to save both of you.

"Then you're mine now," he mused, gripping your throat and squeezing as if you were a toy. "Don't forget that. You can't even look at anyone else, or I'll take your eyes out, understand?"

"Yes," you whimpered, desperate to keep looking at him now, barely allowing yourself to blink even.

"Yes, what?"

Your whole body was revolting as you pushed out the words you assumed he wanted to hear. It felt wrong and like you were shoveling your own grave, but he had been right: You didn't have a choice.

"Yes... Sir?"

Humming amused, Kunikuzushi gave you a knowing smile before climbing off your lap. Two of his henchman turned away from the table and walked over to you as he ordered them, "To my room."

Unceremoniously, you were picked up and carried backwards out of the room, unable to keep yourself from glancing at your partner for one last time. The hallway was dark and cramped, dusty as if the building wasn't occupied until recently. Part of you began to feel relief that your negotiations worked out, even though you didn't know yet what it really meant for you.

"We're finally together again," Kuni sighed, walking behind you so he could face you with an almost gentle smile. "I couldn't stand that other guy leeching off of you for another second, you know? And you'll forget him soon enough as well."

As if they timed it, a scream rang out through the building as Kuni finished his sentence, a wide grin creeping over his face, and a cold shudder ran down your spine.

"I'll make sure you never leave me again."

Did you take request? If so, can it be gn?

Um..hehe, can I get yandere scaramouche when he know that reader has a lover that sadly die, but for some reason reader can't moved on. Not like they want to, and each day scaramouche could tell that reader is thinking about them.

Doesn't matter if he punish them or anything, each pain will just be met with "if scaramouche indeed killed me then can I finnaly see you darling?"

And while they were obedient, scaramouche definitely can tell that reader think of him as "replacement" ya know? Perhaps it's his eyes resemble them or his hair or whatever you can possibly think of.

If you didn't take a request feel free to delete this but please tell me cuz I know I'm gonna be waiting.

Yandere Scaramouche x GN Reader

/// Carved From Dreams - Part 1

Summary:

Slightly inspired by the myth Pygmalion

Your mind still recalls when you were a woodblock printer for the God of Eternity. With Raiden Ei's powers, your prints became those beautiful prototype puppets. But, unfortunately, you foolishly fell in love with your creation, so when he dies, and you are left devastated, The Balladeer uses your sorrow and his appearance, which perfectly mirrors your former lover, to get you wrapped around his finger.

Warnings: Angst, Death, Depression (more to be added in the 2nd part)

word count: 5.8k

Snezhnaya is cold.

Too frigid to relax. One always needs to be on the move, or else the hoarfrost will gobble you up.

Though a fox envoy, your memories of being a servant to the God of Eternity have all but faded into the glimmering snow. Yet for some reason, each night as the heavenly moon peeks a glance at your half-sleeping form shrouded in satin and silken sheets at Zapolyarny Palace, everything seems to come back.

The sea of white. Those poignant kisses that left burns on your beating heart. Never-ending tears. The mikos must have passed on the tale of an aloof kitsune whose robes were stained purple for an entire summer.

Perhaps it is like muscle memory, or maybe all of it became engraved into your mind that afternoon at Tenshukaku. Yes, the experience was akin to red wine tainting a wedding dress. You may try to forget. You may try to scrub out the haunting darkness until your skin peels off and your bones show, but the mark will always be there. Even if it’s just seen by you.

Nevertheless, it is something that lasts for an eternity.

You could recall the way paper became skin, how colored ink became violet eyes and plush lips, how each stroke became strands of hair.

He was sketched by you, carved by you, inked by you.

But honestly, could something so fair and radiant truly stem from a simple woodblock print crafted from your hands? You still ask yourself that very question. Yet one thing that you can be certain about is that Her Excellency, the Electro Archon, really did amaze you. Back then, the scarlet sun was setting; as she examined the nude, slender puppet, her face didn’t show a sliver of awe nor a shred of doubt. It was as unmoving as her goal.

You opened your eyes.

Still nighttime. Still too cold.

A chilling breeze invaded the room and you shivered as you pulled up the silken sheet to your chin and tiredly scrutinized your surroundings. He left the window open again. You shifted your body slightly to look at the Harbinger better.

The eagerness to lock the window and close the curtains was strong; however, in these scarce moments, as he obeys slumber’s will, he appears so insecure and pure. The word innocent crossed your mind. A princely face that lacks nothing except a touch of celestial divinity weeps for a tender heart and glazed dreams. His pale skin glowed in the moonlight.

You breathed lightly and didn’t dare to get out of the bed. A single disturbance would awaken the ruthless man. If you committed the transgression, a severe punishment wouldn’t be a surprise.

Besides, you didn’t really want to awake him, anyway, since in these fleeting moments, the Balladeer reminds you of the crack of thunder and brilliance of lightning.

So bright and clear like Akihito. A mere prototype puppet before him.

___

That summer in Inazuma, it was especially hot.

“Don’t be worried, Ei! If anything, my former ward is a shut-in.” Your master, Yae Miko, was always rather blunt. Even as a fellow kitsune, you couldn’t keep up with her demanding, mischievous personality. “You know I don’t like this nonsense you're concocting, but how could you think such preposterous notions? That I would bring someone who can’t be trusted!”

“Miko. Please.” Beelzebul vexingly sighed at her friend’s behavior and gave a cross response. “Everything must be perfect for my plan to take form. No one besides a few must know.” The Electro Archon monitored your eyes shifting from place to place, taking in the lavishness of Tenshukaku. She walked towards you and lifted your chin. You tried to stop your fox ears from twitching. Her touch was, not surprisingly, electrifying. “Miko tells me you're a skilled artist.” She grabbed your hands and inspected them. “Calluses. You practice your craft often, I see.”

“Yes, Your Excellency, I make a variety of woodblock prints. Some depicting the Shrine, some tales from the past, others mere imaginative scenes. I sell them in the city and during seasonal festivals.”

“Good, good.” You couldn’t really tell if she was pleased or not. She spoke so plainly. “Now, answer this question, and I will see if you are fit for my task as Miko so claims.” Your archon’s lilac eyes glowed brightly like an angelic spring morning, but they were solemn. Hands still being held by her were gripped tightly as if begging for you to speak earnestly.

“What does eternity mean to you?”

Abruptly, memories of lazy days at the Shrine came into your mind. Days when you tried to help your master with utter mischief. Times when you would simply listen to the koto being plucked at dawn or the shamisen being strummed at dusk. Echoes of the jingles from the suzu bells being performed by dutiful maidens in red hakamas and white kosodes rippled in your mind. Those nights when you would venture into the ruins of Araumi and sleep under a cherry blossom tree, dreaming of Kitsune Saiguu, bring sugary nostalgia.

But in actuality, the aftermath of the Cataclysm was your childhood. The ghosts of family members who succumbed to the potent abyss scratch your skin. They craved your innermost thoughts. You were so young when it occurred, but you remember how the shrine maidens would pet your fur to soothe the nightmares that plagued you. Vague images of eyes feasting on your form brought shudders. Faint sounds of talons clawing a wall gifted shrieks. You would only shift back into a more human form when Guuji Yae was around.

One morning as the sakura blooms seemed to float higher and higher into the misty sky, your master gifted you ink as black as shadows, paper as delicate as clouds, and a brush as fine as thread, and instructed you to paint whatever pleased you. Her blush-colored hair in the somber winds of Mt. Yougou blocked her stunning face for a moment. Her gold headdress—just polished— shined excessively.

“Come now, my dear. This will help you.”

You crafted scenes from fairytales. Skillful strokes told the story of a young fox walking through a riveting forest of cherry blossoms. Your family was there. In your work, the branches of the Sacred Sakura no longer wept over the fact that ichor from the one with a feeble heart and an oil-paper umbrella soiled the land that day. The lamentable cries of lightning didn’t startle Narukami Island when you were engrossed by your canvas.

Every piece you made became more beautiful and picturesque as your nightmares became more ravenous. You thought that if you shared your work, you would experience more bliss, so you moved to woodblock printing for faster production. That gullible hope died out soon.

“What a twisted child. The more they suffer, the more exquisite their work becomes.”

Ink stained the tatami flooring. Paper scattered your room. Slabs of wood were unattractively laid everywhere. One would've had to be careful not to step on a carving knife. Blisters, calluses, and splinters littered your hands. Even the shreds of ripped work still created masterpieces.

You transformed and curled into yourself, your tail blocking weary eyes from the light of the dimly burning lantern.

Just as you were about to remember more, an electrifying touch brought you back. You pondered for a moment.

“Eternity, to me, means achieving absolute happiness. Abandoning the waking world for one of euphoric dreams.”

Ei uttered the next few words so softly.

“It’s as if I’m staring into a looking-glass, and for once, I’m seeing myself. Not who I want to be… Not Makoto.”

That night, there was a sorrowful thunderstorm. The mournful tune of tragedy kept all of Inazuma awake.

___

The God of Eternity only had one request for you: The design of the prototype puppet mustn’t have the same appearance as herself. It may look similar, but not exact.

It’s just a test, after all.

After a variety of sketches, the one you presented to the Raiden Shogun was elegant.

Her reaction to some would be considered rather dull. A nod was all that was given. But the approval was thrilling.

The path to eternity had begun.

You remember the way the shrine maidens teasingly snickered as you tiredly hacked down a few sakura trees. Huffs and puffs, your heated face covered in sweat, drew their attention. The pink petals billowed in the air before they landed on your attire. You haphazardly dropped your axe, collapsed on the ground, and sharply exhaled. Pain ravaged your arms and back.

“My, my, not exactly what you signed up for, is it?” You rolled your eyes with slight annoyance. Your master articulated her words so gracefully, but anyone close to her could pick up on the underlying tone of amusement.

“It isn’t every day that someone works for their Archon,” you playfully defended yourself, waving your hand to shoo her away.

“That may be true.” Yae put her hands on her hip and sighed. “I think Ei is acting like a child throwing a tantrum with this ‘plan for everlasting eternity.’” Her eyes shifted to the trees that were victims of your slaughter. All of the fallen petals made exquisite pools of pink. “Yumemiru wood. Good choice.”

___

You stayed up all night making the first print, though not one that would be of much use to Her Excellency; it was a sentimental souvenir. Your heart thumped with excitement and anticipation.

It was second nature to you already. To paste the sketch drawn on washi onto the wooden block, to carve the surface, to repeat the whole process until you had a woodblock for each color to be added.

Your creation would have lavender eyes lined with crimson, lithe arms, and a gentle smile. His black robes loose on his body revealed his bare chest adorned with the lilac emblem of the Shogunate. Proof of his lineage, which stems from the divine, and evidence of his purpose, to house a celestial heart.

As the hours passed, your vision blurred. You didn’t mean to, but you ended up dozing off and dreamt of a young man strolling below tranquil wisteria trees. There was a slight fog on the narrow path. Dark hair flowed as he turned around to greet you. The geta sandals he wore echoed a low click sound as they met cobblestone. Lavender eyes matched the scenery. His chest ignited, his heart pulsated with power. He reached for your rough hands and placed them on his slightly exposed torso.

Gleaming tears spilled down his regal face. He mouthed something to you, but you woke up gasping for air.

Ugh! I fell asleep. You almost spilled the inks you made and nearly cut your hand on your tools.

The heavenly moon lit the room with nightly opulence. A feathery chill ran down your spine, a breeze pecked your cheeks.

Huh… It seems that you had left the window open again.

___

That afternoon at Tenshukaku, you weren’t sure what to feel, but frustration was certainly an option.

The way the Raiden Shogun observed you so intensely became seared into your distressed consciousness. She was like a teacher testing their pupil as you applied the ink onto the paper with the help of a baren. After you embossed your name and the number one onto the print, you handed it to the grim deity.

“It is finished, Your Excellency.”

Ei stared at the work of art for a second. Perhaps examining the youthful face of the man who would aid in her arduous pursuit to be closer to the Heavenly Principles. Maybe she was astounded by the vibrant hues of purple that made up hair and eyes. You couldn’t tell. Her face was as blank as the stack of unused kozo paper laid on the tatami mats.

As fast as lightning, her plum eyes became incandescent, her eyebrows furrowed, her braided hair came undone a bit. A gust of wind nearly knocked you over. The luxurious room quivered. The dendrobiums closed their ruby petals. You hissed at the intense light diffusing from her.

In a second, the print vanished, yet you knew what had transpired. Skin from paper, eyes from ink, but still, he would lack a benevolent heart.

You didn’t have a moment to relish the fact that your art had come to life, because as soon as he opened his eyes, the puppet withered away into dust.

Mouth now agape, hands clenching your clothes, you snapped your head back to Beelzebul to receive much-needed answers.

“It will take some time before one can even last more than a second,” she said, tone completely casual. “We must continue. This is why I chose a woodblock printer. The mass-production aspect of the craft will speed up the process immensely.”

“But–”

“Let’s make haste.”

About fifty prints took their first breath that entire evening. Out of all of them, only twenty prototypes weren’t wholly ephemeral in nature; however, they showed no sign of function. Perhaps you should’ve asked if you were supposed to paint strings on the puppets.

Ironically, though she was someone who should have all the time in the world, the God of Eternity didn’t want to wait until the nonfunctional ones vanished back to dust to further her progress. She cruelly threw their pale bodies onto the floor like a child discarding an old doll for a new toy. They laid there like corpses stacked in a pile. Some had their lifeless eyes still open, as if attempting to resurrect. Even as you continued your monotonous work by applying the ink, using the baren, embossing your name and the number which belonged to that specific prototype, only just to repeat the process, those unchanging melancholic eyes stifled your mind.

You winced as you heard the sickening thud of one of the bodies falling. Their heads and limbs moved unnaturally with the sudden movement. One underneath had disappeared, allowing for gravity to simply follow its laws.

Prototype number forty-three, or so you believe, was one of the ones on top, but he tumbled down the heap and ended up right next to you. A few strands of hair covered his face. His limp arm stretched out completely. A slightly bruised hand was open, as if begging for you to hold it.

You lifted your head from your work to stare at the man you had sketched, carved, and inked. How handsome he is.

A reserved sigh was emitted from the woman with a noble body and amethyst irises. You paid no mind to her as you stood up and cradled the forsaken being in your arms before placing him back onto the morbid mound.

Calloused hands cupped the lifeless face of the prince. “I don’t want you to be alone. Have sweet dreams with your brothers.”

You used your index finger to close all their eyelids carefully. You thought you did it to give them some peace as they decay. But really, that harrowing lavender color prickled your soul for what felt like an eternity.

___

It took about a month before you and Ei managed to create a puppet that seemed to be promising. Unlike the others, you asked if you could give him a name, as you would be the one in charge of watching him to see if he’d be fit to move on to the next stage.

After hundreds of times, the ordeal wasn’t as bewildering as that first afternoon. It became like an everyday chore. Numbness was all to be felt. But the second he gasped for air, took in his surroundings, and grinned excitedly, you blinked. Shock seeped into your heart and mind. Huh, this one is rather distinct from the others.

You decided on the name Akihito. It was fitting. That smile of his was so bright and clear.

Time passed by quickly; you wished the kamera was invented sooner. The burning yearn to go back and somehow capture those moments has disturbed you for centuries. You remember how you brought him to Konda Village and taught him how frail crystalflies are, how warm the day is compared to the dignified night, and how to paint what’s on his mind.

It was the simple things with Akihito. He would ask about someone’s day, how they were feeling, have they eaten yet, have they smiled at all. He made the citizens of Inazuma laugh so easily.

Once, you brought him to the Shrine, and he held your rough hands. You mindfully noted how delicate his were. He stopped every second to talk to passersby. He even gave his spare dango to a weeping child near the torii gates.

“Why must you stop so much?”

“Because the present moment is so fleeting. We must treasure it through our interactions with others.”

He soon knew more about the maidens at the Shrine than you did, and you had spent your whole life with them.

You remember your cheeks heating when you watched his face brighten as the mikos performed the sacred kagura dance.

The realization that you liked spending time with him — not just because he's your artwork, nor just because it's your job — wasn’t as tough to swallow as you thought it would be.

___

Your room was nothing short of a chaotic mess back then.

Inks, most commonly hues of purple, always stained the tatami flooring. Kozo paper was always scattered around. Slabs of yumemiru wood were always haphazardly strewn all over the place. Whenever Guuji Yae came to visit you, she had to be extra careful not to step on your tools.

The word embarrassment wouldn’t be able to properly describe what you had felt when Akihito asked to visit your dwelling. Besides Tenshukaku, your little abode was also your studio.

Without thinking one day, you had told him that the majority of your equipment and original prints were there.

He smiled. Of course, he did. That’s what he’d never stopped doing.

“May I pay your room a visit? I would love to see your process.” Akihito pleaded to you. Well, that’s how the sensation of those handsome, lavender eyes growing rounder with questioning awe felt.

You resigned. You couldn’t say no to those eyes and that enrapturing beam.

You briskly turned your head away from his inquiring stare and looked down at the ground. You attempted to distract yourself by scrutinizing his geta sandals instead. “It’s kind of an eyesore, though…Everything is rather cluttered.” The urge to say no was immense, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you felt safe sharing everything with him.

“I don’t mind. I can even help you clean your room! If you want me to. You have done so much for me. It’s the least I can do!”

Courage must have possessed you because you met those bright eyes and fondly brought your right hand to his face.

“No, you are the one who has helped me so much.”

You realized what you had done and tried to pull away swiftly, but he caught your rough hand and tugged you into a warm embrace. The sudden affection caught you off guard.

By the end of the idyllic day, your room was spotless.

You made sure to leave the window open, for there was a pleasant breeze.

___

It was around noon time when it occurred. Another month had nearly passed.

Those breathtaking lavender eyes closed, his eyebrows raised slightly, he chuckled. You rested your head on his lap. You two were under a cherry blossom tree in the Araumi region. The regal young man caressed your skin and pet your fox ears. Akihito’s form was hunched slightly to shelter your eyes from the sunlight that was slipping through the branches. Light pink petals fell on top of his head; they contrasted with his indigo hair. He gleefully giggled, and you joyfully sighed and booped his nose.

___

“Why don’t you paint as much anymore?” your master questioned you one evening. Her hands were on her hips, her white and scarlet sleeves swaying from the movement. There was a hum in her voice.

“I suppose I’ve been happier lately.” You looked directly into her violet eyes. “I took up art so that it could help me like you said it would. It’s just that, now, I don’t need to worry about the nightmares anymore.”

Yae Miko took your hands and drew comforting circles into your skin. “Be careful, dear, those who abandon the waking world for one of enchanting dreams only mourn when they return to reality.”

A frown fell upon your confused face. Shouldn’t she be happy for you?

“By the way, your hands have become soft.”

___

The temperature was searing when the God of Eternity invited you back to Tenshukaku. You gave your report on his progress.

“He reminds me of Makoto.”

She always spoke that name whenever it was morning; it was as if the luminous rays that bring fertile life to Teyvat were as jubilant as her deceased sister. Makoto was her sun. Ei was merely another planet revolving around such brilliance.

“She, too, was gentle and loved by everyone. I believe he will be a fitting vessel.” Beelzebul lifted her hand before closing it tightly and concentrating. She then opened her fist, and a purple chess piece began to float. “This is my gnosis; it represents my divinity and status as an archon. As I will be placing my consciousness into my sister's sword, the Musou Isshin, I will need a place to house my celestial powers.”

You had already been informed about this ordeal, but seeing the gnosis in person was a rather bewitching experience. The sheer energy it radiated was terrifying. Why was it so captivating? The luminous glow of the minute yet potent object was hypnotizing.

Your pupils must have dilated.

However, you couldn’t stop the dreadful feeling of drowning in nauseating darkness as you neared it. The heaviness was too similar to those plaguing nightmares you had.

You didn’t even notice you were about to snatch it until Ei swatted your hand away.

“Apologies. I should’ve been more careful. I know how entrancing it is. A whole war was fought between gods to gain one.”

Your ears fell down. How embarrassing. “I’m sorry, Your Excellency, it won’t happen again.” Sheepish words rolled off your tongue as you scratched the back of your neck.

“No need to apologize. Now, let’s bring in Mako—“ She cleared her voice. “Akihito.”

You slid open the shoji door. Inside another room was the one with a pure smile. Akihito was working on an ink painting. Not a single dark drop tainted the chabudai or the tatami flooring. So mindful. Rigid branches, budding blossoms, and a kitsune dressed in a yukata weren’t anything praiseworthy, but there was a splendid air about the focus in his eyes. You mastered many mediums of art as a means of income and as a means to escape the woes that life brings, but in his case, anyone could tell that he did it to experience joy.

He was having fun.

“Far from a masterpiece, but I wanted to capture that memory of us under the cherry blossom tree in Araumi. I didn’t get to finish myself, but I’m more than happy that I was able to draw you. Even if you don’t look as… attractive due to my skills.” Words so timid yet sincere were whispered. “I know I may not have a heart… but I believe I understand what I feel.”

A light thud sounded as you sat down beside him and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Akihito, my love, we mustn't make Her Excellency wait.”

“I know.”

___

The clock signaled that it was already past noon.

It was, yet again, another afternoon at Tenshukaku.

He laid down on a futon placed on the ground and undid his robes slightly to expose his chest. That violet marking, the symbol of the Bakufu, was far too jarring on his fair skin. Indigo hair, the color of the night sky, was sprawled out like lightning scattered throughout a storm.

He shut his eyes and breathed in, then out.

Ei knelt down beside him, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and placed her index finger near his hairline. She touched every curve and dip of his forehead, nose, lips, neck, and chest as she grazed her finger down his body. One can tell that everything about him was designed with a purpose. Your deity placed her palm flat on his chest before curling her fingers in, just below the stately symbol. Light scratch marks began to swell.

There was that familiar glow. Looking back, you curse yourself for not having grown used to it after so many puppets, after seeing the gnosis, after this.

But then again, how could you, when the memory that follows is the image of the God of Eternity shoving her fist into his chest.

Piercing skin that was once paper.

There was no sweat, no clenched fists, no furrowed eyebrows. The poor creature displayed no pain so as to not frighten you.

Was it a success? That single thought raced into your mind. You bit your lip anxiously.

The gleaming lilac halted. Her pristine hand left his body. For once, her face bore an expression. Pure disappointment.

Those lavender eyes suddenly shot open and moved around frantically, his lips parted slightly, attempting to speak. You quickly rushed to him and touched his hand.

“Hey, it's okay… It’s over.” A tender lover you were. You rubbed delicate hearts into his palm.

Akihito’s back arched. Those petrified eyes wouldn’t stay still. He harshly snatched his hand from your soothing touch and uncontrollably gripped and pulled his sleek hair. That slender body wouldn’t stop jerking back and forth. That fair skin was turning as white as snow. Fingers contoured into grotesque shapes. His mouth opened and closed desperately.

He’s trying to speak. He’s trying to gain control. He’s trying to survive.

You hastily turned your head to his other creator and shrieked at her.

“Do something! H-He’s dying!” Oh, how big and small you felt that day as you insulted your god. “It’s always like this! You…You monster! You always have to just stand there with that horrible blank expression. You never cared about any of them!” The wretched sentences you seethed were merely the bubbling surface. Deep inside, you felt so much anguish and pain that words couldn’t have even been formed from your mouth to communicate to her. Too many “yous” were wailed that afternoon.

I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone…

That phrase flew around and accumulated in your mind like a blizzard.

The Electro Archon looked at the scene with a vacant face. “There is nothing I can do. It seems I overestimated him, this project, and, most of all, you.” Beelzebul tilted her head and pitied your trembling form. It reminded her of that fateful event. “He is malfunctioning due to the gnosis. There is no use in taking it out now. The outcome will be the same.”

You clicked your tongue, annoyed at her indifference. She had nursed that face for so long that it had left her naught but a hollow shell. She was more of a puppet than they were.

You briskly tuned out her words and cradled his body so tightly in your arms, bringing your forehead to his. Akihito’s bright, clear face and limbs were littered with ink-like markings, a sign that his body and mind were yielding to heinous forces. They were devouring the gracious man alive.

You tried to turn his face so that his eyes would look directly into yours. But, even then, he kept staring at the ceiling, as if searching for something more.

“Cel—”

“Celestia.”

Your eyes widened. “Yes, what is it, my love?” A sorrowful smile was plastered onto your face as he began to murmur. Tears ran down. They fell onto his face sloppily.

A weak arm tried to affectionately touch your sobbing form. You brought his hand to your wet cheek, answering his wish.

“I’m...I’m sorry, but now that I have a heart…. I know for certain that I can say that I-I love you.”

That nimble hand withered away.

You hugged him so tightly and wept, “Please, don’t go… I can’t face them without you. Not without the person I love.”

Though his smile was no different than that time at the Shrine, that time napping under the cherry blossoms, and that time watching the mikos dance, the main thing you couldn’t help but notice was how those lavender eyes were the last to fade away. Like always, they still had that shine that defined him. That sparkle that revealed how much he valued the present moment.

You nestled your face into his black robes, bunched them together, and held them firmly like a mother holding an infant. Trying to conserve the warmth, scent, anything.

It was one summer afternoon at Tenshukaku that you realized how transient eternity really is.

___

Your master knocked on your door. She begged you to answer. “Dear, you must come out. It’s been weeks.” Autumn was arriving. Children would soon be dressed in adorable kimonos for the harvest festivities to come. All for Her Excellency's blessings and everlasting reign. Crimson leaves would stain the land.

It would soon be too cold to relax.

There was another knock. Why does it matter if you wallow in your grief or not? Nothing truly changes with you. Your life was set in stone the moment your parents perished to the abyss.

Ink once again stained the tatami mats of your floor. Paper once again was scattered around your room. Those slabs of wood were once again unattractively laid everywhere.

Everything that had occurred with Akihito disappeared. All those happy changes were gone in an instant.

Yet, the only things that didn’t revert back were your hands. They stay changed. You couldn’t bring yourself to draw again. No more rough calluses or blisters; they will forever remain as delicate and supple as velvety petals. Just like they were that afternoon he melted away from your scorching touch.

“The mikos are worried about you.”

Perhaps you were being too harsh, but that flowery, saccharine voice of hers made you gag. A cacophonous ring it had, like funeral bells tolling. You nearly put your right hand over your left on your throat to halt the bile from rising and consuming every waking specimen. But what left did you have to regurgitate? You vomited your singing heart as he mumbled those last words. You yearned for those lazy, scenic days spent with him.

Taunting laughs stung your brain. You scrambled to grip Akihito’s black robes tighter in an attempt to control the heavenly and abyssal images that pester and pick.

“What is it?” You spat it out finally.

The mouthwatering smell of fried tofu delectably laid atop udon started to cloud the vicinity.

Oh, she’s good.

“I figured I’d bring your favorite.” Yae Miko placed the tray outside your room, but she didn’t leave. A deplorable phantom, she was. Was she here to mock you? To once again sabotage your life?

You flung the door open, seized the steaming bowl of kitsune udon, and savagely threw it at her.

But of course, the Guuji was always more agile.

“You could’ve burned me, you know?” That tone of amusement, that laugh of hers that treated everything like a humorous joke, irked you terribly.

Oh, when did you become so unruly and rebellious? Childhood was long gone.

“I hate you! Why did you bring me to her? You knew her plan would end up like this, yet still, you brought me to Tenshukaku!” Tears started to well up. Those skeletons of the bygone times dug their claws into your ankles and wrists. “You were like a sister to me. I was filled with joy when you were placed as my guardian.”

You collapsed to your knees.

“Why did you do this to me?” Those black robes once again became damp from heartache. “I even introduced him to you, and you didn’t do anything!” Each syllable was exclaimed so shakily, so breathlessly.

She hummed as you continued to babble and sob. “Well, I did give you a small warning that one time. But I will shoulder some of the blame if that will pacify you.”

Those violet eyes looked towards the ground. “I suppose I thought that if you, someone I know, were involved, we could lessen the damage Ei would cause with this foolish project.” Your master reached out to hold you. “My bad, my dear.”

Your blood boiled. You gritted your teeth, got up, and stomped closer to her. The broth soiled your attire. The wet fabric clung to your body. The fried tofu became disgusting mush under your bare feet.

You breathed heavily, chest heaving. Your fox ears twitched. Protracted sharp claws unintentionally ripped Akihito’s precious black robes. “Don’t. Patronize. Me.”

Too many unrelenting, intrusive thoughts invaded your head. You wanted to slap the arm that was reaching out to you. You wanted to push her to the ground and bellow out all that mauled what was left of your mind. You would go as far as to say that you even wanted to pierce her chest, snatch her heart, and make her feel what your love with indigo hair experienced.

Yae Miko gazed directly into your eyes. You nearly fell again when you saw the purple color. Everything went away. The bloodlust. The vengeful spirit. Your jaded soul even fled.

All that was left was the kitsune who tried to nap on their lover's lap. All that was left was a child who lost their family. All that was left was the artist who painted their plight. All that was left was the creator who laid those princes to rest and closed their lavender eyes.

All that was left was you.

You stumbled slightly, nearly slipping on the puddle of udon, as you treaded to your master and accepted her embrace. Sharp guilt formed.

“I’m sorry... I miss him. I was an idiot for falling in love.” your voice cracked.

A gust of air blew some of your disorderly papers lying on the ground to the door. From the corner of your eyes, you could tell which one was the one closest to you.

It was a scene of rigid branches, budding blossoms, and a kitsune in a yukata. The artwork was nothing praiseworthy, it was even unfinished, but you bawled and whimpered because you knew that fluttering sensation of felicity you felt when you saw it for the first time would never come again.

Another puff of wind came in.

It seems you had left the window open again.

Thank you for reading!! ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

Part 2 is already in the making! This was originally supposed to be one big oneshot, but I decided to split it due to its length

WAITTTT WHAT WOULD HAPOEN IF THE IMPOSTER IN THE VILLUAN AU! GOT EXPOSED BECAUSE PEOPLE FOUND REAL GOD!DARLING AND PRICKED BOTH OF THEIR FINGERS AND THEN THEY SAW WHO WAS REAL AND WHO WAS NOT

[Btw I love your writing]

❝Fooled❞

I'm glad you're enjoying my works! ^^ also really for the late reply I needed to use my brain for this aaaand I had some health issues (+ writers block) in the process of working on this so I couldn't focus so really sorry for that lol. Also made a scenario under the cut.

✎...Includes: Zhongli, Ei, Venti, Thoma and other characters that are only mentioned.

❬Information: mentions of getting cut, very little bleeding, uh beheading? Slight cult and yandere themes,❭

Intro! Honestly it be a miracle if that happened? Because considering how unhinged some characters are squints eyes at Childe—they'd probably kill you on spot if they ever lay their eyes on you. Their head isn't screwed properly for that kind of process. They see the impostor, they kill the impostor. Easy as that! But— if something like that does happen— let's just say the impostor is reaaaaallyyy screwed.

Also about the pricking your fingers kinda thing—I'd like to propose another idea where instead of needle pricking ( I'm assuming that's what u meant) The reader instead gets a cut by a sharp object — a sword, or a polearm perhaps? — that was pointed at them when they got captured by the Archons and the others.

The characters who helped you too get captured— (Kaeya, Dainsleif, the twins, Albedo, Itto, Xiao and Kazuha and Thoma). Pinned against the ground by the Anemo archon's strong winds— any attempts at escaping were futile— no matter how strong they were—they can't defeat an angered God.

More under the cut!

Inside Tenshukaku, just outside the shogun's residence and in front of the statue is you. Surrounded by weapons of all sorts and people of all kinds. Unable to do anything as you kneel head held down low.

The uncomfortable feeling of being watched by hundreds of people makes you shift, the tight ropes around your wrists and ankles doesn't help either.

There were hundreds if not thousands of people watching you—coming from different nations all gathering in one place just to witness the death of the person who dared to impersonate their God. And speaking of which.

You can see them. Standing proudly next to the electro Archon.

From the shape of their face to the color of their eyes. They looked exactly, exactly like you. The resemblance between the both of you was uncanny. The only difference was that smile, that disgusting smile they're wearing. It was as if they were taunting you.

And you hated it. And you hated the fact that despite having the literal world's favor- you still couldn't do anything. Captured like an animal waiting to be slaughtered. It was absolutely pathetic. Were you really a god?

Maybe you are, maybe you aren't. Who knows.

You were tired. So tired of having to participate in this game of catch. Maybe you should just let them win already— it's getting tiresome. And with your situation, it's seems that they've already won.

You know you should fight back— You've come so far! You have armies of monsters ready to die for you. You could get revenge. You could make them feel the pain you felt. But alas, it sounds too much of a chore to do such thing. After all what happened—you just want to rest and maybe death is the only way you can do that.

Yes, you still want to live but with this situation in hand... How can you do that?

"Any last words?" You hear an almost too familiar voice say. It was non other than Zhongli of course. He was his God's most devoted devotee after all. Ironic how he had to get rid of you, in your honor.

"Did you not hear me?" He asks but you say nothing only looking at him before shifting your gaze to shoot your friends a smile. You refuse to waste your voice talking to lowlifes someone like him.

"I guess not, very well then. Prepare for a wordless death."

Just as he raises his pole arm (funny how it was the same pole arm you remember grinding for) ready to strike you down, a loud shout of someone was heard taking everyone's attention— yours included.

It came from one of your friends.

And in a blind panic thinking that they have been hurt you quickly turn your head, forgetting about the weapons that were surrounding you. The sudden action of course caused a few weapons to graze both your cheek and neck, cutting them in the process. The cuts weren't deep but they were still enough to draw out blood.

You didn't even notice it, clearly more concerned about your friends well being— but they surely did. Well, how could they not? That shining golden liquid was something worth capturing everyone's attention. It was something that only one person possessed. Their God. But that doesn't make sense? How could someone like you—a fake possess such attribute that not even Archons have?

Everyone had the same thought. Well.. Not a thought. But a question, one they were scared to be answered.

Were you truly a fake?

Ah.... At this point should they even question it? That blood is more than enough to prove who you truly were. You were their God! You were their precious deity—and the person they were worshipping was actually a fake.

Disgusting. How disgusting.

To think they had placed an impostor on a pedestal—worshipping them day and night while they harmed, starved and goodness almost killed their God?

They were fooled. And it made them mad. Really, really mad.

"Fools. Untie them!" You could hear Zhongli's voice shout, right after, you could feel the knots around your wrists and ankles loosen before disappearing completely.

Well, looks like you're gonna live after all.

You stood up, your lower half was too sore making it hard to keep balance. Just as you were about to stumble backwards you felt a pair of well built arms wrap their arms around you. It was Thoma.

"Are you alright, your grace?" He asks, eyes scanning frantically around your figure. You could also make out the others surrounding you as well. Looks like the Anemo Archon has finally freed them. You smile. Good thing they weren't harmed.

"I'm fine"

Shifting your gaze from them, your eyes land on the Geo Archon. Despite being in an inappropriate situation to feel it, you were a bit embarrassed. Was he staring at you the whole time? You inhale.

"What's this? Finally came to your senses Morax?" You taunt, voice loud, eyes glaring at the former Archon. Embarrassment disappearing all together.

He says nothing, only kneeling, his head held down low. It was a funny scene. Was this really the proud man earlier who asked for your last words?

The rest followed his actions, all kneeling, well except Ei, who marched in front dragging the now disheveled fake. Hands gripping the back of their shirt, harshly throwing them in front of you before kneeling alongside Zhongli. You also noticed Venti had placed himself right beside the Geo Archon, of course he too was kneeling.

You sigh, looking at the trembling fake, you would've felt pity for them. But considering all that had happened before hand, you didn't. You two were both placed in this world taking two different roles. If they had helped you, you would've helped them too.

With a heavy sigh, you look back at the people.

"What are you doing? You said you didn't want anyone copying me didn't you?" The sudden question made them slightly flinch, it was something they didn't expect but it didn't take long for them to nod.

"Then, why are you still letting this......thing live hm?" You ask, feigning disgust, your eyes trailing back at the half dead now kneeling fake.

With your words the three Archons stood up summoning their weapons and in an instant the impostor's head was no longer there.

Their now headless body slumped and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Blood. Red blood was everywhere.

The sickening shade of red was far from the gold you had bled before.

It was truly an ugly sight. It made you feel guilty and you hated it.

You know you shouldn't be feeling like that. You weren't even the one who did it! They did. It was your so called worshippers who did it.

But why does it feel like it was you? Why does it feel like you were no different from them? From the people who had hurt you?

It was such a bothersome feeling. But it was too late for regrets. As masters of such heartless creatures, you need to be heartless too.

I'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind? Like I can do a new version of it if you'd like? It'll take more time tho— also not really sure how this turned out? The ending might be a little rushed?

Also a little fact. The 'shout of someone' was actually supposed to be 'growl of something' since I wanted to add a part where rifthounds would come to the Reader's rescue but got cut out. Also how to title stuff.

۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪┊Navigation! | Masterlist!

sincerely,

yours truly (part one). / sincerely (part two).

premise: your diligent efforts to uncover the identity of your secret admirer had ultimately amounted to nothing. in fact, your investigations only raised more questions — your companions' strange behaviors and shifty-eyed gazes hadn't completely escaped from your awareness, not to mention you've become... privy to some of their affections...

and what is the last thing you need while trying to search for one person who liked you? more people to like you, of course!

but that is exactly what you receive. (goddamn it all.)

includes: zhongli, kaeya, scaramouche, itto & the real secret admirer !

note: oh god i have done it. it's even longer than the other one but since this is the 10k celebration fic, it's only rightfully so! i hope you enjoy this... likes and reblogs are appreciated <33 please read the first part if you haven't already!

zhongli:

all things considered, zhongli is an unrelated figure to your personal issues, not particularly concerned with such trifling matters. you lived worlds apart, and he's generally preoccupied by his own studies anyway, too absorbed in his thesis to mind who has a crush on who and whatnot.

yet it seems as if fate is intent on pulling you two together whether you like it or not.

you belong in different majors, your lecture halls on opposite sides of campus, and he's an upperclassman. not to mention the upperclassman everyone looks up to, the senior equivalent of albedo. though he holds an air of benevolence and warmth, he's unapproachable in the way nobody would dare impose themselves in fear of bothering him with their presence.

professors only speak of his name in accordance with endless words of praise, and legend has it that any paper he proofreads is guaranteed to receive a high grade... not that anyone could confirm it, since nobody has been gifted that luxury.

except for you, of course, living the y/n life — you'd been slaving away on your assignments per usual at diluc's cafe when, in a moment of misfortune, zhongli had crashed into a waiter and spilled his coffee on your papers, soaking pale sheets in brown splatters and smudging the inked sentences you'd painstakingly written for the past hour.

if only your laptop hadn't run out of battery, you wouldn't have resorted to drafting with pen and paper. or you could have done your work in a later date instead of being productive for nothing. fuck.

witnessing your expression crumpled to disbelief and misery, zhongli apologized through offering his assistance in doing your assignment with you. and oh boy, he did it well. it was better than what you could've ever done, the insight he provided beyond profound. he was humble even as you showered him with compliments, still looking quite apologetic for the fiasco he caused.

and. right. it could've ended there. after that occasion, you would wave at him if you passed by each other at the hallways, but that's where the extent of your relationship ended, a pair of underclassman and upperclassman who'd known each other once.

but of course it's never that easy.

he pops up when you least expect it, running into you frequently even though the rumors articulated “you'd hardly get a glimpse of him since he's busy all the time” clearly. and he's acquainted with people you know well, just that you never paid attention to it; keqing seems to respect him a lot, so does xiao, ganyu perks up whenever he's brought up in conversations, and childe sticks to him when given the opportunity. perhaps it was only a matter of time that you begin a friendship with him as well...

but what's up with these horribly timed drama tropes you keep experiencing with him?!

bumping into him and dropping your books to the floor so he offers to walk you to the library, locked into a room when a professor asks you to collect materials for class with him and the door has a faulty knob, getting photographed by a student while you study in the same table and everyone assumes you're dating,,

you've been seeing far too much of him.

everyone's patience has been wearing thin. xiao tries his best to keep his annoyance at bay but fails. childe has resorted to bribing zhongli for free lunch to lead him away from you. albedo straight up drags you to the opposite direction whenever he spots zhongli within vicinity.

but it's like there's a force of nature compelling you to stick right back to him.

hosting events for college fests had never been your kind of thing, but attention follows you if you're acquainted with famous people, and keqing was unwilling to be an emcee if she didn't have a friend alongside her to act as a second host. of course, that meant everyone was deadset on dragging you with her.

you're not very keen on standing on a stage to face the whole school like a kid participating in a talent show, but you've never been good at saying “no” to your friends.

hence why you find yourself clutching on a microphone now, blinded by bright stage lights. you would much prefer if you were part of the audience. or if you were in ayaka's place instead, holding up cue cards behind the curtains.

there's some kind of beauty pageant going on, a popularity contest for the prettiest people in uni. votes are collected via online polls, and you're tasked to reveal the top 10. you don't doubt for a second your friends will all join you on stage eventually, and you've already asked ganyu to drag xiao up the platform if he tries to escape. sweeping off a piece of confetti by your shoulder, you flip open the folden paper in your hand and announce the winning names.

zhongli steps up as one of the candidates for first place and you faintly hear gasps of awe and high pitched squeals.

you nod at him in acknowledgement, and he returns the gesture in kind. you head on over to hand him a mic of his own, keqing busying herself by doing the same job for other contestants, and...

in your carelessness, distracted by fumbling with the paper in your hand to hide it back inside your pocket, you trip over an electrical cord.

you've been waiting the entire night for the time where you'll eventually embarrass yourself in front of a crowd. perhaps a voice crack in what's supposed to be a tense situation, a stutter in your words, falling off a stage even, but here it is, even more horrifying than what you could've imagined.

squeezing your eyes shut instinctively, you brace yourself for the hard surface to tumble onto. instead, what meets you is something squishy, someone's hands gripping around your shoulders, and-

FUCK. you banged your knees on the ground.

the first thing to pop in your mind is a myriad of swears that could stun a sailor.

the second is the oddly plush surface your lips had landed on.

the third is the sight of widened golden eyes. they look very familiar. but you'd rather not think about who they belong to.

the ugly screech of the microphone dropping to the floor is drowned out by gasps, yelling, and the scandalized choke of keqing behind you. xiao — who did end up being a contender for the stupid popularity contest and is standing only a few meters away, makes an alarming noise that could trigger a person's fight or flight reaction.

you hastily attempt to rise to your feet, but the floor is slippery what the actual fuck, and zhongli, oh for fuck's sake, innocent and oblivious zhongli grabs your hips to keep you steady.

.....of course the accidental kiss and caught in a compromising position tropes were going to happen eventually.

kaeya:

“it's from me.”

your gaze travels from the fresh, new bouquet of flowers emitting a sweet fragrance lying in your arms, and the face of the man currently standing before you, lips curled in what seems to be a supposedly reassuring smile.

“you mean... this and the carnations last time?”

his lips are still firmly quirking upwards, admirably patient in spite of reiterating the same phrase over and over again whenever probed with your repetitive questions.

still, he doesn't quite give off the impression of someone deeply infatuated.

and okay, not to be narcissistic, but you expected a secret admirer to... well, admire you more, yet this person looks as nonchalant as ever.

and he doesn't look like the type to profess love through subtle means. at all.

you'll be blunt. you've heard of kaeya. who hasn't? whether it be of mischief, or something more scandalous in nature, he's more or less always involved with trouble, gossip about him traveling fast. it may be an insane prank in the boys' dormitory or someone he bedded (who's supposedly out of everyone's league, yet fell for his charms so easily), you hear of his name quite often.

it's just that you didn't expect you'd associate yourself with him...

and if you have at least two brain cells to rub together, you can easily piece together the conclusion: this guy is definitely talking out of his ass.

nobody has ever heard of kaeya pining over someone so badly that he personally sent bouquets and other small gifts to appease them, admiring them from the shadows. it's so clearly not his style. if he likes someone, he'd flirt with them a bit and cleverly worm his way into their heart, and absolutely not give away presents expecting nothing in return.

but if he's not your secret admirer, then for what reason is he pretending like he is?

you want to seek the truth, and playing along for the meantime sounds like the best option. and this may draw out the real secret admirer, the sly part of you voices internally.

thinking it'll be rude to turn him down publicly (since of course he initiated this exchange in the middle of a crowd, and that only gives you more reason to doubt him), you decide to see how things go first.

if anything, this whole “wooing” business with kaeya seems like it's done out of spite. does he have a bone to pick with you? or he made one of those stupid “it'll only take a week for you to fall for me” bets with his friends? hopefully not, because that's terribly out of trend.

your indifferent responses do nothing to deter him from sticking to you like glue though, doing this and that to earn your favor. he's... not doing anything wrong, actually. if you didn't know any better, you'd think he's like any other eager guy who wants to receive your love.

he does a great job of remembering what things you like and dislike, making a habit of inviting you out for a meal in your favorite restaurants every now and then or taking note of what movies you're looking forward to so you could watch it in the cinema together.

... it feels more like hanging out with normal friends now.

kaeya eases into the idea of that notion, too, insisting on meeting you outside of his shady “i'm your secret admirer” business. it doesn't take too long until you begin to reach out to him as well, inviting him to go shopping with you to look at jewelry together (and dear lord, does kaeya know how to accessorize) or giving him a ticket to the amusement park when kokomi bails on you. (“so i' m just a rebound? a back-up plan?” kaeya arches a questioning brow, acting deeply hurt to provoke a reaction. you smack his shoulder and he laughs in mirth.)

(he definitely tries for the “let's go to the haunted house so you can cling to me when you're scared” cliche but fails. why does he feel disappointed though...)

if given more time, maybe the time would come where you'll both just shrug off the secret admirer thing and continue on normally as friends. it'll be the last thing on your minds, a joke that never had a punchline. just some prank kaeya didn't see through the end.

but then it resurfaces when kaeya had already given you your daily dose of coffee — yes, he somehow knows the secret recipe you like, something you plan to ask him about later — but another cup is waiting at your desk, its once warm temperature turning lukewarm.

you inspect it, judging for yourself, and you confirm it's the same recipe you like.

so this one is from the real secret admirer then, the one who's still hiding in the shadows. that, or this recipe is just popular.

the people residing in the same room as you observe the scene with interest, because apparently your romance drama became a spectator sport, stares pinned in kaeya's direction.

you knew he was a fraud from the very start, but others do not, and he's not sure what to say.

someone else makes the excuse for him. “do you have another person who likes you, [name]?” amber asks innocently, essentially saving kaeya's ass without her realizing it. you let your gaze shift from her to kaeya.

“...maybe.” you place the two cups of coffee side-by-side, feigning nonchalance.

if the real secret admirer found out that someone's pretending to be him, this must be his way of saying kaeya's a fraud in front of everyone. after all, if he was actually the secret admirer, there'd be no need for kaeya to give you another cup when he'd already placed one on top of your desk.

and a couple of people already know who the real one is, anyway. xiao just doesn't want to tell you.

kaeya sends what seems to be a longing gaze your way but ends up turning away to head to his own classroom. he'd only offered to walk you towards yours, and you didn't share classes. it gives you more time to ponder how to confront him.

you didn't have to. he explained things himself.

it comes in the time you least expect, a peaceful lunch like any other. he suddenly arrived at your table, tray in hand, and sat opposite of you. “it's not me,” is the first thing he says, no context at all. he admits the obvious truth and you shovel more food in your mouth in your hopes of hiding how curious you are for what else he has to say.

“but i know who's been giving you flowers... and the coffee. also the chocolate the other day. i helped him pick out the presents, actually.” and that's where you choke because that's not what you were expecting at all.

“he was considering sending a love letter, but i told him you'd recognize his handwriting because you know him very well. and he refused to give a printed letter because he thought it was 'lacking' and you deserved better than that.” he scoffed at the thought. “and that's cute of him. endearing, if you will. but he seriously pissed me off last month and i wanted to mess with him a bit.”

“so you... tried to date the person he likes?” your expression sours. that's a dick move. he immediately shakes his head, as if to say perish the thought.

“not that. i knew for a fact you wouldn't like me anyway. i was just teasing him,” kaeya huffs. “and he got angry at me. well, it's a justified reaction. but i didn't plan on keeping up the charade for long. i only wanted to fool around for a few days.”

“and then?”

“...i missed the timing to pass it off as a joke. then we started to hang out like friends. but i assured him that you didn't actually think i was the real secret admirer, so he forgave me as long as i... do some work for him.”

oh. he's right about that though. and that also explains why kaeya looked so tired recently, helping out a friend with his project as a sincere apology.

“does he plan on revealing his identity anytime soon?” you can't help but ask, your eager eyes betraying the nonchalance in your voice. kaeya sighs at that, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms.

“i've been trying to convince him to. it's exhausting to look at him flailing about like an idiot. he talks about you all the time.” he frowns at the way your cheeks color. “you should try luring him out.”

you tilt your head in question. to show his point, he reaches out his arm, grabbing your hand. you let him do as he pleases, even as he brings the spoonful of your meal to his lips, and takes a bite out of it.

distantly, you hear a metal clatter against the floor and a voice cry out in surprise. you turn your head towards the noise, and you see—

the hell. it's just bennett tripping.

... but it's not like bennett dropped a metal utensil or anything. he is the one who cried out, though.

“wrong direction, sweetheart. you were supposed to look at the right. what a shame, you didn't see him picking up his fork like a fool.” kaeya laughs, releasing your hand from his grip.

he seems strangely reluctant in doing so, but you decide not to look further into it.

scaramouche:

at best, he is an unwilling spectator.

emphasis on “unwilling” because he truly does not wish to see you. like at all. you're pretty sure he hates your guts, but he'd amassed a lifetime's worth of misfortune and keeps seeing you... and the guys around you.

it's safe to say if your love life was turned into a k-drama, he'd probably seen the entire series.

he'd walked in on you when childe confessed he likes you, purple eyes narrowed into a sharp glare before he turned on his heel and left the room. he'd seen the way xiao looks at you, starstruck and excruciatingly fond, because of course scaramouche sat beside him in class (long, long ago they settled a mutual agreement to not speak to each other unless necessary, even if they hadn't verbally discussed it). he'd seen you at diluc's cafe, too, when diluc poured coffee at the angry customer. scaramouche's clothes were stained, as he was the customer sitting beside your table.

he'd seen you with kazuha when kazuha came to pick you up in the rain. he'd seen albedo draw sketches of you in the corner of his notes. he'd seen thoma with you while out for grocery shopping. he'd seen gorou follow after you not unlike a loyal puppy.

he's, reasonably, tired of seeing your stupid face and your stupid harem and he hates you.

by the looks of it, none of your friends like him. especially mona. she had a few arguments with him already. they didn't mix well, and scaramouche liked poking fun of the astrology she loved, a firm disbeliever of such things. “how is my birthday supposed to dictate my personality? or my relationship status? is this fortune-telling? tell me, then. what's my lucky color for the day-” and he only shut up when mona landed a clean kick to his shin.

...yeah. he's kind of an asshole. the type to scowl 24/7, glare at you for no reason, and bump into you without apologizing. then when you do try to make small talk to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, he scoffs and pointedly ignores you.

but you can't blame him for finding you and... the guys following you irritating. you imagine it must be an eyesore for outsiders. there's already quite a bit of rumors about you going around seducing men (and women, you add, because apparently you can't be friends with pretty girls without having those kinds of intentions... and yoimiya and ayaka could be somewhat touchy) and rumors are almost always wildly changed with each pass of gossip from one person to another.

of course your friends don't believe it one bit and are ready 24/7 to defend your honor, but scaramouche is very obviously not your friend, and he may regard you with something less than pleasing.

it's only understandable you're caught by surprise when you chance upon him picking a fight with people badmouthing you, shoving a boy to the wall with brute force you wouldn't expect from someone his size. (you berate yourself for making fun of his height in this kind of situation.)

“shut the fuck up,” scaramouche drawls out, fisting the boy's shirt collar. “your voice is grating to the ears. surely, you have better things to do than yap nonsensical bullshit out in the open?”

“what's your fucking problem?!” the guy responds, panicking within his grip. “it's not like we were talking about you! don't think so highly of yourself!”

that prompts a scoff from him, and he tightens his hold on the boy's collar. he immediately shuts his mouth, thinking it better not to retaliate. scaramouche's glare promises something beyond simple violence if he continued to act prideful.

somwhat satisfied by the fear glistening in the guy's eyes, scaramouche finally releases him. “scram.”

the group runs off, and you quickly duck behind a wall to hide from his sight as he walks away. you're not sure what to feel, conflicted by his usual prick demeanor and shockingly kind(?) actions behind the scenes.

unfortunately, your confusion reflects directly on your face. after a handful of times catching you staring at him, he finally snaps, “what do you want.”

your expression twists into something complex, and scaramouche's frown deepens. “uh... no, it's nothing, really...”

“you've been looking at me all day. do you take me for a fool?”

your face sours. so much for planning to thank him. maybe he didn't stand up for you and actually just found the noisy gossiping annoying enough to choke a guy and pin him to the wall. if it's scaramouche, it isn't too far-fetched at all.

and what were you going to say to him, anyway? it's not like he explicitly stated he did it for you. it would be beyond mortifying if you thanked him for it and he clarified that little detail, thinking you were stuck-up enough to assume the world revolves around you.

... no, that's too much overthinking, isn't it...

“well?” scaramouche impatiently taps his foot, raising an eyebrow expectantly. you hold back a defeated sigh and decide to stay put.

“sorry if i made you uncomfortable. i was, um, looking at...” who does he sit with again? “xiao!” you mentally apologize to your friend, using his name as an excuse.

impossibly, he becomes more irate than before, his taps ceasing into a calm quiet. the silence pierces more than the tense conversation prior.

without another word, he walks away.

...well. okay. that was safely evaded.

life continues on per usual. you don't interact for the next week, and you want to leave it at that.

except your life is a joke. a romantic comedy you never wanted to be a part of.

...you're assigned to a group project. with him. with childe too, no less. the childe who confessed his love to you not too long ago and you still have problems wrapping your head around it, not sure how to talk with him like you did before.

amidst this drama, scaramouche is stuck smack dab between you. he's unquestionably furious.

he's present when childe looks at you in the same excruciating way xiao does. he's present when childe tries to make jokes to ease off the tension, and it doesn't work in the slightest. he's present in the lingering gazes, awkward pauses when you graze fingers as you hand materials to each other, and reluctant conversations that never last any longer than seven clipped sentences.

scaramouche feels wronged. had he committed a war crime in his past life to deserve this despair?

and you. you just want to get this over with. collect information, make a powerpoint, and present in front of the whole class. easier said than done.

the three of you together doesn't sit right with you, but left with only two isn't any better either. childe and scaramouche don't get along if you leave them long enough for an argument to brew. scaramouche hates you and doesn't fill the silence when childe leaves for a bathroom break. childe tries too hard to talk when scaramouche leaves for a coffee break.

when the first day of working together ends, you nearly cry tears of joy.

“i can walk you home,” childe offers out of goodwill. it's certainly not because he has other intentions in mind, he's just concerned since it is pretty late.

“we take the same bus,” scaramouche speaks, for the first time joining your conversation. “we can go together.”

childe smiles in relief, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. then he stills. old habits die hard. damn.

for his sake, you don't comment on it. you walk out of the library, scaramouche in tow.

the stroll to the empty bus stop isn't a comfortable one, but at the very least, you're accompanied by an acquaintance and you don't have to feel anxious being alone. you take a seat as you wait but scaramouche chooses to remain standing, placing a fair amount of distance between you.

“...you haven't made up?”

his voice is small, almost swallowed by the howling winds. you're surprised he wants to talk about it, but you laugh. “we didn't fight or anything.”

“fighting would've been better,” he replies. “an apology could still repair your relationship. but there's nothing you can do if you don't see him that way, and he can't see you as a friend.”

you look down at your feet, heels resting firmly against the pavement. “yes... it's tricky. i don't know how to act around him. i don't want to hurt him, but... maybe not rejecting him is painful, too.”

“then turn him down properly.”

“it's not that easy...”

“would you rather him still have hopes for a chance with you and eventually get disappointed instead of dealing with it once and for all?”

he makes an excellent point. it's reasonable enough... but you don't know how to bring it up with childe. not now. not yet. you'll have to think about it properly, the way to reject him with the least amount of discomfort from his side.

“receiving relationship advice from you... if someone told me this would happen today, i'd think they've gone mad.” you chuckle. “do you deal with friends whining about hardships like these often?”

“apparently, they think of me — someone who has no interest in dating — as the perfect person to consult for relationship problems.”

“hm? you don't date? do you like anyone, at least?”

he gives you a look. it's perfectly blank, devoid of his usual arrogance or irritation. you blink at him, the pause in the conversation stretching too long to be comfortable.

“you could say that. but i don't... try things i know won't work out.”

“...like?”

he rolls his eyes. “think about it this way.” he removes his hands from his pockets, approaching your seated figure. he comes startlingly close, mere centimeters away, and his fingers curl around your wrist. your lips part and close, and you wonder if he's trying to kiss your knuckles-

“if i told you now that i like you, with this many people who like you too, there's no way i'd win, is there?”

it's an example, you tell yourself. you asked him a question and he answered it.

“...so the one you like is popular...”

but his gaze looking directly into your eyes is too earnest, too honest. sincere. light reflects against the violet pools, a turbulent storm clouding within.

you neither nod nor shake your head. the bus arrives and you scramble to get on it.

scaramouche pulls you by the wrist when you nearly trip over the small set of stairs, leading you to a pair of seats. if you have something to be grateful for, it's that he doesn't try to talk anymore, using the pair of headphones resting by his neck for the rest of the ride.

itto:

itto barges into your life in a whirlwind of chaos.

it comes in the form of a stray volleyball plummeting towards your back, and the sheer force behind it knocks the wind out of your lungs. your knees buckle and you kneel on the floor, heaving violent gasps of air. the searing pain makes you wonder if you broke your spine.

distantly, a screech bellows from the court. a figure almost flies past the gymnasium's doors to check on your condition. “are you okay?!” it's gorou, you realize, his eyes blown wide with panic.

you don't want to worry him and say you feel as if you've permanently shattered a bone, but your back hurts like a bitch and you tell him so, “fuck me with a hammer, did a bowling ball crash into me or something?”

he ignores your interesting choice of words and answers, “my friends and i were playing volleyball, i'm so sorry! we didn't see you there at all!”

you steer your sight to the gymnasium entrance and oh my god. the doors aren't especially massive, and one of them is even closed, so what are the chances you walk past the small space and precisely get slammed by a stray ball? it's gotta be lower than a five star drop in gacha.

“can you stand?” gorou holds up a hand for you to take but you really can't move away from your fetal position without an explosion of ache jolting through your body. he's three seconds away from offering to carry you when someone else beats him to it.

“did you get hurt?!” a blur of white hair passes through your eyes, and you blink up at an unfamiliar man. gorou's friend, you're guessing, most likely the one who injured you too — that powerful force from the volleyball could only come from someone like him. tall, athletic, muscular. he's ripped. shredded. probably tore your muscle fibers too.

you don't let the pain cloud your mind. he didn't mean to kill you, you remind yourself. you stretch your lips into a smile, but it may just look like a grimace.

however, with a gentleness you didn't expect from him, he carefully hoists you on his back. oh. he's strong. and really warm.

...sticky with sweat too, but you'll try not to mind it too much...

“i'll carry you to the infirmary!”

your brain clears up from the haze of agony. “...wait, you don't have to-” before you get another word in, he rushes to the clinic, and you bypass many, many people. you settle for hiding your face as best as you can.

after proper treatment, he gives you a serious apology. you learn his name is itto, and you instantly recognize him. you've heard of the name itto before, that one popular student on a sports scholarship for basketball, but he's known more for goofing off with other sports teams. he's broken a lot of windows when he played baseball... and probably also broke bones of other people when he roughhoused too much on the soccer field. it's just that he's insanely talented, enough for most people to overlook his troublesome tendencies.

anyhow, famous or infamous, you can't tell yet. but he's very much willing to make up for your injury.

a free meal would honestly suffice just fine, but even after that, he insists on following you around, offering his assistance whenever needed. and, well. you have no problems with having an extra hand to help when you need to carry heavy equipment.

then he learns about the whole secret admirer thing and he proposes he'll help you lure him out.

“and how do you intend to do that...?” you inquire just as you enter the lecture hall, itto trailing after you and setting your bag on the table. his face splits into a grin and you have a vague idea of what he plans on doing.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you close to his chest.

several things happen at once. a huff leaves xiao's mouth involuntarily. the crack of pencil lead breaking into pieces sounds from beside him, scaramouche holding the pen in his hand with too much force. the laughter ringing seconds prior comes to a halt, childe's face no longer displaying a bright smile.

itto blinks, retracting his arm. he didn't expect this outcome. “you have really overprotective friends, [name].”

as one would expect, you never got the results you want because too much people react to his provocations. it's tricky to pinpoint which one of them exactly is your secret admirer when they all like you the same. (this whole situation is truly absurd. it's not that you fed all these guys love potions by accident, right?)

itto doesn't dare upsetting gorou with this though, but with anyone else, it's free game. he begins calling you the most ridiculous pet names he could come up with, in the wrong place and in the wrong time.

my precious cupcake. my sweetest honeybun. little ducky. snugglepuff. they send shivers down your spine. (albedo is noted to be most affected when itto does this. it's not hard to imagine his brain cells frying when itto shamelessly calls you by such awful names.)

but then it becomes a habit. he's not doing it ironically anymore. his mouth had become accustomed to addressing you in manners only lovers do. more often than not, your friends would be caught by surprise when he wholeheartedly calls out “babe” to earn your attention and you turn towards him as if it's like the most natural thing in the world.

the cherry on top is when you attend one of his games for the basketball team.

it's not like you wore his varsity jacket to rub into everyone's faces the fact that you're dating. nor did you wear a cheerleader outfit of some sorts to show your passionate support as his significant other. you'd only come with gorou and kokomi, waving the banner the three of you made into the air as you were seated in the stands along the sides of the court.

when they won the finals, people on your side all rejoiced, flocking over to the team to praise them and offer their congratulations. thinking it would be better to stand by instead of joining the sweaty crowd, you stood aside with kokomi while gorou insisted on diving headfirst to the sea of people.

then a tall head approaches from afar. white hair, bright eyes, and a similarly blinding smile. “[name]!”

you didn't expect him to come to you. well. spares you the effort then. you throw a towel around his neck. “you're drenched in sweat. please don't touch me.”

he frowns. “not even a congratulatory hug?”

“not when you're this gross.”

at least that wasn't a stern no. itto grins. “wasn't i great out there?” he cards his fingers into his hair, fishing for compliments. you thought he had enough of those from the crowd currently swarming him. “i did a ton of 3 pointers. you saw me, right?”

“would you be disappointed if i said i was on my phone the whole time?”

immediately, his face twists into an offended look. of course that was a lie. you laugh and lean on the tips of your toes to reach his hair, ruffling it into a mess. “kidding. you were amazing, babe.”

that moment, you hadn't seen his expression clearly, occupied with patting his head. perhaps you hadn't even realized what you called him.

but to everyone around you, they could see it, plain to the eye — the shock in his gaze, the small twitch of his lips, the rise of his brows. then his cheeks flush a lovely color as he stares at you under his lashes with a hesitance as one would look at the sun, longing to admire its radiance yet afraid to be scorched by its brilliant rays.

he takes the leap anyways, staring at you as long as he wanted.

a lovestruck fool, keen to your touch.

your secret admirer.

relatively speaking, it's an ordinary day so far.

or as ordinary as it can be with a life as silly as yours. the past few weeks didn't feel real. you wish they weren't. everything has become too complicated. everyone kept on acting suspiciously and skirting around you, avoiding eye contact only to observe you from behind.

your day starts out seeing thoma when you open your front door, both of you telling each other good morning. you pass by kazuha having breakfast at a fast food joint. then you run into itto first thing in the morning, where he gladly helps in carrying a 3d model of your project into class. kaeya swings by to bring you coffee since you didn't get a chance to visit diluc's cafe, not having the extra hand to carry among the pile you already have. you make your daily greetings, saying hi to your friends and annoying xiao, as you always do. you nod towards scaramouche, and you even had enough courage to say hi first to childe too. when walking to another lecture hall, you happen to meet albedo, gorou and zhongli in separate times.

then at lunch time, when you briefly leave your belongings alone for a moment, someone leaves a packet of candies stuffed into your bag.

a sticky note is stuck on the surface, “please meet me at the physics classroom at 6 p.m.” scrawled in black ink.

the penmanship is good. it twists in elegant curls at the edges, brush strokes light and even.

you're able to recognize it at first glance, just as kaeya has told you.

you've seen it enough times to burn it in your brain. you've rigorously studied notes with that same handwriting, after all.

at 5:56, you stand in front of the classroom doors. in different circumstances, you'd have second thoughts before blindly following somebody's orders but you know who it's from, and it is decidedly not a murderer out to get you.

you collect an intake of breath, and twist the doorknob.

the last traces of sunlight bathe the room in a heavenly glow, a haze of aureate like shimmering flecks of gold. the billowing curtains hide the figure standing by the windowsill, the gentle breeze caressing your cheeks as you squint in its direction.

the figure moves of their accord, the sound of a book snapping shut following their actions.

albedo walks out, a serene smile displaying on his sun-kissed face.

“...hey.”

your heartbeat pounds in your ears. though you expected his appearance, it does nothing to dull your surprise.

“it's you.”

albedo had always admired you in quiet adoration.

he can't provide a clear explanation why his gaze is naturally drawn to you, turquoise eyes sweeping by your countenance before he realizes it. but it started out simple, as everything does: a curiosity piqued, when he heard of a person tagging along the supposedly unapproachable girls in school.

gossip comes and goes every season, and albedo knew it will pass soon. it's only a matter of time before they cling to another topic to babble about. most likely something kaeya did again, because he chases after trouble like a dog with a bone.

rumors are nasty. they paint you in malicious light, a person seeking attention among the most eye-catching lot. you wished you were on the same league as them, they said. you were only after the benefits of acquainting with those girls, they said.

but you were special on your own.

the way you carried yourself with confidence, against the judgmental stares and muddled opinions. the way you hadn't cared about what other people said, because you knew best about the situation and you were different from what they made you out to be. the way you genuinely loved your friends, sincerely wishing them happiness and doing everything you can to put a smile on their faces.

you were dazzling.

your laughter rang like bells in his ears, your grin a delight to see. your voice was melodious as you prattled on about the latest film you watched, or as you hummed a song with headphones covering your ears. your colorful expressions were amusing, a reflection of the feelings in your heart.

as the professor drones out during lessons, albedo finds himself distracted by his daydreams. what if he stood beside you? what if he could partake in conversations, not only able to hear your voice but you'd also hear his? what if he was the one faced with your smile, the reason of your smile, the one who made you feel such joy?

what if you permitted him to go further? to brush hands with you, to intertwine your fingers in simple intimacy, to curl his arms around your waist in a loose embrace, to press a kiss on the corner of your lips-

his ears burned in humiliation. what on earth was he thinking?

but forget “seeking attention from others,” it didn't even seem like you were interested in dating.

you showed indifference towards the idea, avoiding mixers and drinking parties. you also turned down quite a few dates. not to mention albedo wasn't even friends with you. he wasn't even sure if you knew of his name.

then you showed up at the library, and for the first time, albedo was thankful for the privilege nobody bothered his table, so you could sit alone together.

you became friends after his (despairingly embarrassing) insistent attempts to acquaint himself with you.

and he files away the little details, storing the small things about you in the corner of his mind. what you like, what you dislike. what days were you free, what things you prefer over the other.

it's a happiness he relishes in, the comfort of your friendship. but his greedy little heart yearns for more, for what you cannot give.

he tries anyway.

he's running out of time. you're always surrounded by people, whether you realize it or not. but he considers himself a selfish person. he doesn't want you to be taken away.

he may lose you entirely if he does it wrong.

but you're already here, eyes gleaming, lips pressed in a nervous tight line. the red dusting your cheeks leaves some hope for him, so he musters up his courage and simplifies the storm of feelings that eats away his heart each day:

“i like you, [name].”