#genshin x female oc

[ordowrites]

(a huge thanks and shout out to @/yirienkak for doing this commission!!)

the fox and the puppet

sometimes a rest underneath the stars can bode well for one's mental health.

[velaazuretail]

hello!! could i please request dottore rentry graphics in a dark blue color? thank you so much in advance 🫶🏻🌺⭐ (feel free to decline if you feel uncomfortable or don't like editing him!! ^⁠_⁠^)

𖠿    ‣    ⧉  ﹙𝒟﹚  𓂃 Artist : one & two

𓏴⠀⠀⠀༝༝⠀ 𓌔𓌔 RENTRY GRAPHICS

𓏴⠀⠀⠀𓊆ྀི⠀RB + LIKE⠀ 𓊇ྀི

𓏴⠀⠀ ۫ ◟  ͜ ᳝᳜᳝　ᶜᵒ⠀𓂂⠀to USE.

𐔌　　𓏏𓏏　　˙　　Daily　🇵🇸 　Clicks

note : check this person out! Click for Profile , they make AMAZING outfits for commissions I love their work sm and they need recognition, so pls go look!

[flokali]

— Concept: Student Yandere and Professor Darling

Warning: GN! Reader, blackmail, n/on-con, d/ub-con, age gap, student-teacher relationship, push-over reader, unfair ending, n/oncon recording, uhh ask to tag!

A/N: just a concept that plagued me for a while... hhhhhhh;; i'm so normal ab this

Any dynamic that involve an authority figure and a subordinate, no matter how innocent they may initially seem, are doomed from the start for both of the parties involved.  There’s always going to be an underlying power imbalance, someone who holds the authority over the other; there is no nice way to put it, unfortunately. 

Most of the time, in fics, I see a lot of Yan professors creeping on their students, but the thought of a student Yan harassing their beloved professor has been plaguing my mind. 

The relationship starts sweetly, you’ve noticed a certain student in your course that’s been falling behind, making mistakes that should have long been addressed, their work is always late or partially done and you’re growing slightly annoyed at them for wasting your time and misusing theirs as well. You ended up offering them private tutoring when you found out you were the only professor’s whose class who they’d been treating like a joke. 

They reject it immediately; seemingly embarrassed that you’d even offered. You try to calm their nerves down, you’re pretty young yourself, you only graduated a few years ago and you won’t charge them, it won't be a daily thing but they can pop into your office so you can review and work on assignments and other material they’ve been failing at. The hesitant look on their face seems to slowly be melting off the longer you explain your reasoning.

You continue insisting, you lay out the facts as they are; they’re a brilliant student who has been passing all other courses and extracurricular activities with flying colors, so why is that your course has become such a challenge to them? You have seen them work and the way they behave during class, you’ve even noticed how some students go to them to try and clear up any questions and ask to study together with them. You’d heard your colleagues rave about them being easily one of the college’s star students, so it’s either that they’re making shit up and lying to their peers, which you sincerely doubt since you’ve seen their works, or they were purposefully trying to fail your class.

Maybe they thought it’d be easier, decided to try it and got it in their head they didn’t have to try – after all, it wasn’t as if all of the work they’ve handed is bad, there’s some clear understanding of what they’re doing, it’s just that they keep on messing up some things, even if it means inconsistencies in their work, the assignments that made up less percentage of the overall grade were done well enough that you could fail them but anything that was actually important was clearly half-assed. They were nailing the basics in one essay and then completely misrepresenting them on the next.

You explain your concerns; you’re genuinely worried your class might hold them back from graduating with their peers, if things kept going on like this, they’d fail your class and if they did, they’d have to repeat the semester and risk graduating a year or so late. It’s not the end of the world to repeat a semester, but it’s avoidable in their case and you don’t understand why they seemingly insist on failing.

It’s then that they pull out a card they’d been holding on to dearly for a situation such as this, they’d hooked you in with a months long performance and it all relied on this moment, it was a disgustingly perfect story meant to pull at your heartstrings and lead you into their honey sweet trap;

They start going on about a sob story about their parents’ jobs and finance, how they had been struggling for a while since their parents cut them partially off for choosing a college out of their town, and how they’re supposed to provide for themselves and pay rent and bills, about how their schedule is always so busy trying to balance college, their friendships, mending their relationship with their parents, and their job on top of all the studying they’ve been doing. Your class had unfortunately been the least of their concerns and that they’re immensely sorry to have worried you and that they are willing to do anything to make up for their past grades. They can’t believe they’d let themselves go in your course and they’re deeply ashamed because they enjoyed it greatly, but there was little they could to catch up now.

You can empathize with such a dilemma, being fresh out of college yourself, the memories of balancing relationships, work, and academics are still freshly etched into your mind. 

They clearly seem burned out and your heart aches seeing a student as promising as them dim down so drastically. You’d hate to be one class that impedes them from graduating on time, you don't want to be the lone profesor responsible for slowing down such a valuable asset to society.

You sit them down and try to offer them some advice, you were in a similar situation when you were in college yourself, you try to explain the ways you managed to survive and bypass college, going into detail about your own problems and how you were able to live through it all. They seem visibly more relaxed during the conversation, nodding along and explaining their own feelings and hardships, you both manage to sympathize with each other and come to an arrangement.

It’s completely under the table since you are worried about what it might look like, but from now on until the end of this semester you’d use a more relaxed, less strict grading system for them, after all, they did have a legitimate reason for their behavior and they were willing to make up for it. That is, under the condition that they start taking tutoring classes from either yourself or a fellow classmate, they weren’t able to balance the studying schedule necessary so you’d try and manage at least one aspect of it for them to try and make their life a little bit easier. You reiterate that this must not come out, fully aware that you were breaking multiple rules but you were too much of a bleeding heart.

They agree gladly, but not before asking if you could be the tutor, when you’d questioned their request they explain themselves, seemingly embarrassed for their own reasoning;

“I don’t want it to get out that I’m failing your class, professor…” The smile they wear seems genuine and shy and you nod in understanding, college students are only older teenagers, after all, most of them are still stuck in their high school mentality and you wouldn’t put it past a bunch of immature people to try and mess with someone who was struggling. While the mindset eventually wears off, you understand why they could be self-conscious about it.

What you don’t know is that they’ve been planning for something like this to happen from the get go, always going out of their way to purposefully present themselves as a stupid, pathetic and incompetent student that would need their hot professor’s (your) help to pass the course.

During your first couple of sessions they work extra hard to make themselves seem as ditzy and clueless as possible, making as many mistakes and errors as humanly reasonable without getting you too annoyed at them. They even begin to dress in slightly more provocative ways than they would have before, their speech slowly morphs into a more flirtatious tone, their touches being lingering on your shoulders for longer than necessary, but you brush it off, trying to ignore the signs. Opting instead to think of it as a silly crush, choosing go try to focus on helping them get through this semester with either an above average grade.

It didn’t take too long for their grades to get better but with the current pace, you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

So, you ignore the uncomfortable, sinking feeling in your gut and suggest making your tutoring sessions more frequent - instead of once a week maybe twice, or even thrice if you could fit it into your schedule, if it was really necessary.

You didn’t expect them to suggest going to your place.

Originally, you’d suggested either the library or a cafe, but they said they felt too embarrassed and self-conscious at the idea of their peers watching them, they claimed they’d probably make fun of them for needing help for a course they’d been taking for almost a whole semester at that point. It’s silly, they know, but they can’t shake that shame off.

They insist on your place, but you reject the idea, they say it’s either there or at their place, they point out that anywhere else and you both risk either staff or some of the student body seeing you both together and getting the wrong idea. The conversation goes on for hours until you’re too exhausted to continue arguing with them and give in. 

They are a good person, right? Even if the thought of a student knowing where you lived made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t like they’d do anything about it… right?

You try to limit the study space to your living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen every once in a while if you notice the snacks you had brought weren’t enough, but never further than that. Your bedroom and office were completely off limits, you’d made it explicitly clear that if you caught them wandering too far you’d have no choice but to kick them out and stop the tutoring, possibly even having to call the campus’ authorities if you felt they were getting too out of line – your reputation be damned. 

They also were only allowed to come over during the weekends and on specific weekdays where no one would be able to catch them entering your apartment. You didn’t even want your neighbors to see them, even if you looked close in age you didn’t want to hear anything about a potential secret lover sneaking into your house.

They agree and promise to follow every single rule you’d put in place, they swear.

But it doesn’t take long for them to start going back on their word and start “exploring” your living space, it started small – simply walking around your living room, examining framed pictures, looking over books, memorizing the placement of your trinkets and decor, making a mental note of the colors you used in the space, they make sure to remember to try and look up where you got your cushions and everything, they start looking into you fridge and pantry to make see what you eat, if there’s any indication of a possible food allergy; it’s all investigative work for your future together.

It’s not too long before they’ve memorized your living room and are drawn to the rest of your house. They've gone to your bedroom and studied the space, taking note of the way you made your bed and how many pillows you have, they also have made a list of products you use and like, such as scents and soaps, to make sure your transition to their place is as smooth as possible. Soon, they could very well draw a floor plan of your place and recreate your home in the most basic of softwares. 

The only reason you haven’t caught up to them is because they’ve taken to spiking your drinks with sleep medication, strong enough dosages that you’ll be knocked out for a while, but not enough that you’ll realize you were drugged.

It’s during your sleeping state that the next part of their plan starts to take action. They’ll purposefully plant evidence in your home of their presence and snap pictures, suddenly their underwear is in your laundry basket, and why are you wearing their hoodies to sleep, huh? They’re meticulously planned and staged pictures that make it look like you were engaging in a romantic relationship, but it’s not enough — they need more, something more extreme. More incriminating, something that would absolutely destroy your career and reputation if it came out.

What about a picture of them going down on you? Or one with their cum all over your face? Your naked figure cuddling up to their bare chest? Some makeup to look like hickies could look realistic in pictures too, you know. Maybe them on top of you… or you on top of them? Or one where your lips are sucking their fingers like a —! Ah, the thought has them blushing! All of these photos are like their dreams come true! You look like such a perfect spouse, taking their love~ They make sure to clean up the space, but they’re growing bolder and more confident in their work.

They even have videos of themselves jacking off on top of you, but they’re always so good at making it seem like you’re awake and participating in these activities! It really does look like you’re helping them get off with your own mouth.

You’re such a naughty professor seducing your innocent, sweet student like that!

It’s sick, they’re sick and they know it fully well but they don’t care, as long as they don’t get caught – there’s no way in hell they’ll stop.

Their grades begin improving and there’s no longer any fear of them failing your class, in fact you’d go as far to say they’ve easily become one of your best students in terms of grades. Things seem to be looking up and you’re pretty proud of yourself for having had a positive impact on them, which is why you come to the conclusion they won’t be needing your tutoring anymore. 

You call them over to your office after classes, making sure to be as nice as possible. At first you were annoyed and put off by them, their initial behavior was unsettling and persistent, but after a couple of months of getting to know them you’ve grown to care for them and genuinely wish them the best, you’d pointed out how teaching them had been a joy and you’d always end the sessions feeling better than before, which is why you’d chosen to end the tutoring. You lay out the facts as they are, their grades have improved and there’s no longer any threat of them failing your class, you’d also be risking people misunderstanding the situation if it went any longer, if word came out you’d been using a different rubric to grade them until recently and that they’d been going over to your place, it would simply look bad for both of you. You’d risk getting sanctioned, possibly even losing your job if things were taken in the wrong way, and they could repeat the semester or even have their work in your class be null and having to take a new course entirely, if not even being kicked out.

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you, the air is thick and you wonder if you should have been softer in your delivery as you watch them process your words.

It takes them a while, you decide to give them the time because you have indeed noticed how they’d seem to grow ever so attached to you and they might take this a bit too personally, but you’re soon starting to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the silence continues.

You’re about to say something again, try to soften the blow with some generic encouragement about how they’ll do well regardless of you being their tutor or not, when you hear them chuckle softly under their breath.

You’re taken aback, your eyes widen in surprise and you unconsciously lean back into your chair, but that seems to have further encouraged their laughter as soon they’re covering their face with the back of their hand as they double over in laughter.

It’s strange but you decide to give them a few seconds to regain their composure, maybe this was a nervous habit? You’d heard of people who’d laugh when anxious, but you’d never seen something so theatrical.

They slowly sit back up, wiping tears from their eyes as a few chuckles escape their smiling lips. They haven’t fully calmed down but seem to be making an effort to continue the conversation nonetheless.

“Ah, professor,” your last name tumbles from their lips in a joyous manner but their eyes look icy as they stare at you, their voice feels more aggressive even if the words came out from a smile, “don’t be so ridiculous, I think things are working pretty well as they are, I have no desire to change our… relationship.” 

You’re taken by surprise, their word choice feels odd and purposeful, but you insist regardless.

“There is no relationship between us,” you state, “I am your professor, do you understand? That means that if I say your tutoring is over, it’s over; I have been going easy on you and helping you out but do not misinterpret my intentions, you are my student and that’s where our acquaintanceship ends. If you think you’ll continue needing help, I’m certain our TA will be more than glad to step up and help you out.”  

They smile as they take their phone out of their pocket and your stomach drops for a second, wondering what on earth they could have there. They slide it towards you after unlocking it, they’re carefree in their handling of the device and your nerves start to rise, a gut wrenching feeling settles in your stomach, you don’t really understand what you’re seeing at first but once you do you feel your blood run cold.

You don’t even realize they’ve walked behind your chair, too focused on the picture of your naked body cuddling up to their equally nude form. They’re smiling, tenderly caressing your bare shoulders, embracing your body in such a loving manner it looked like you were lovers. When… When did they take this? 

Your voice is shaking but they don’t answer you, instead opting to crouch beside you and show you the hundreds of incriminating pictures themselves.

They start telling you a story based on the pictures, the one they seemed to be telling you even if you knew that everything they depicted was fake, about a promiscuous professor that seduced their student, coaxed them into a relationship and took advantage of their position to influence the student into falling in love with them.

You want to tell them it won’t work, threaten to call the dean or the campus police, but they quickly clear out any confusion; “Would anyone believe a student would seduce a teacher and that it’s not the other way around?”

You know exactly what they mean; you’re the professor, you hold the authority. You had never been able to put a stop to it because you had no idea what they were doing but that didn’t matter, it was your word against theirs and they had “evidence”.

They seem proud of themselves too, telling you about all the ways they set up the rooms and photos to make sure they looked as real as possible. They’d taken their clothes and belongings over to your place in secret, made sure to apply makeup in the right places with the correct lighting, it seriously felt like an art they’d perfected.

You ask them what they could possibly want, clearly it couldn’t be only your tutoring if they were going this far. They smile and tell you they simply want a relationship with you, one that goes beyond a professor and a student; from that day onwards they wanted to be your lover.

You want to say no, but they remind you of the position you’re in; “You know, I’ve got these backed up in a bunch of places, it’d be a shame if one leaked, right, professor?” 

You feel numb as they lock the door of your office and guide you on top of your desk, you barely even register them going down on you - stripping you naked and giving you oral. From that day onward, you were a prisoner to your own student.

Everyday, they’d act like any other person taking your classes, going to college, making friends, as if when your work day ended they didn’t torment you under the guise of love. Making themselves into your lover without your consent, as if you weren’t their professor, as if they weren’t your student. They celebrate your birthday and make you celebrate theirs, you go on dates outside of town so as to not be caught, there are times you almost forget the perverse nature of your relationship - but it always comes back to haunt you. They always come back to haunt you.

They make sure not to show any of the images to anyone for as long as they’re going to the college. They need to keep an eye on you, make sure your looks and personality don’t charm any other student - they’d hate to get rid of their classmates due to your unknowing seduction. They’re so good at acting like they weren’t bending you over your kitchen counter the minute they followed you home, you’d almost believe they were only your innocent, well meaning student if they didn’t send you videos of you two fucking as extra-curriculum activities.   

They also take your courses religiously to make sure to always be in contact with you; you could never escape them, they’ll follow you home and come inside even if you try to shut the door behind you. Whenever you tried changing the lock they'd find a way to break in anyway, on campus they’d sneakily follow you everywhere and harass you. Those who notice, the few that do, think of it as cute, an innocent puppy crush that would fade by next semester. 

It’s not until they gets their diploma three years later that they releases a drive full of the videos and pictures, making sure to add dates and location, everything to prove you were fucking a student. You were a whore of a professor seducing their students.

You’re fired immediately and it’s not long until your friends and family cut contact with you for seducing a poor college student and using your power over them as leverage. Nobody wants to hire you, they’d make sure to document every single dirty detail of your relationship so as to ruin your reputation until you’d be forced to turn to the only person who didn’t turn their back on you.

You can only walk into their open arms as they suggest finally moving in together, possibly getting married, and maybe even having a couple of children now that they have graduated and received their degree.

But even through it all, they still have the audacity to call you their beloved “professor”. 

Characters: Lisa (GI), Scaramouche (GI), Al-Haitham (GI), Kaeya (GI), Ayato (GI), Jing Yuan (HSR), Luocha (HSR), Aventurine (HSR), Vyn (TOT), Rafayel (L&DS), Ibara (ENSTARS), Eichi (ENSTARS), Yuzuru (ENSTARS), Cater (TWST), Rook (TWST), Kylar (DOL), Whitney (DOL), literally anyone you want really (TT)

[sailorstar9]

She Scratched F/N's Face, But F/N's Boyfriend Yelled: "She's dying! Why Are You Still Holding A Grudge?"

Warning: Anti-Sethos, Angst, Modern AU

Trigger warning: Cheating

Sethos was extremely annoyed by his childhood friend, but ever since she attempted suicide, he has changed and becoming overly indulgent with her.

Even when she scratched F/N's face, he just shielded her behind him, saying, “She's almost dying. Why are you still arguing with her?”

So, F/N stopped arguing and quietly left his world; until one late night, Sethos saw his most powerful senior in the circle publicly announce his relationship. F/N was wearing a well-tailored man's shirt, nestled in the arms of a tall and handsome man and kissing the side of his face.

That night, it was pouring rain; Sethos, however, went crazy and came banging on his door. “Ghāli (my precious), I know you're doing this to spite me. Come out, let's talk.”

Sethos had an annoying childhood friend.

Every time he and F/N went out on a date, she always tried to tag along and this irritated him to no end.

One day, he and F/N went to see a newly released movie.

Along the way, Dalilah had already called three times to bother them and Sethos didn't hesitated to block her on WeTalk.

He rubbed F/N's head and said, “Don't worry, I have a girlfriend. I must keep a distance from any childhood friends.” as soon as the movie ended, an unknown number called him.

When he answered, it was that haunting voice of his childhood friend, Dalilah, again. “Sethos, where are you?”

“I told you I'm on a date with my girlfriend.” Sethos answered. “Stop calling me. Don't you understand human language?”

Her voice was thick with sobs. “Wait, don't hang up. I really have something important to tell you.”

Sethos hesitated for a moment, but still hung up; his brows furrowed tightly, as if something was bothering him.

“You seem distracted.” F/N noted. “Are you really worried about her?”

Sethos was stunned, but lowered his head and kissed F/N's forehead. “Why would I worry about her? Don't worry about her; she 's a psycho. Let's continue our date.”

It was nine in the evening and there was a fireworks show by the moat and F/N was in Sethos' arms, taking pictures. Before she could snap a few, Sethos' phone started vibrating in his pocket again. This time, it was Dalilah's mother calling.

F/N didn't know what was said on the other end, but Sethos' pupils contracted suddenly and his face turned pale. “Okay, Auntie. I'll be there right away. Dalilah attempted suicide.” he explained. “I have to go to the hospital now.”

“She tried to kill herself?” F/N echoed. “Just because you didn't answer her calls and ignored her? That's a bit extreme.”

Sethos irritably ran his hands through his hair. “I don't know. But either way, I need to go. Do you want to come with me?”

Though F/N was reluctant, she was also quite curious as to what new trick would Dalilah pull this time.

As they pushed open the hospital room door, they saw Dalilah with red-rimmed eyes, a bandage wrapped around her wrist and struggling to sit up. “Sethos, you're finally here...”

Then, the moment Sethos approached her bed, she hugged him. “I knew you cared about me.” and the scene made F/N very uncomfortable.

Sethos didn't push Dalilah away as he sighed in frustration. “Dalilah, do you realize how unreasonable you're being? Attempting suicide over me is a childish act.”

“I'm not doing this over you.” Dalilah sniffled. “I...” as she spoke, her already swollen eyes filled with tears again and she timidly looked at F/N. “Could you please step out for a moment? I only want to tell him.”

Ten minutes later, Sethos came out of the hospital room, looking very serious.

“Are you guys done talking?” F/N asked, uninterestedly. It wasn't F/N was cold-hearted; it was just that Dalilah's incessant calls and deliberate harassment had completely eroded any goodwill F/N had towards her. Not to mention, the first time Sethos introduced F/N to Dalilah, she greeted F/N with a bright smile and a handshake, but secretly squeezed F/N's hand as hard as she could. Such petty tricks was beyond childish.

“Dalilah has stomach cancer.” Sethos suddenly said. “The reason she attempted suicide was that she felt like a burden. It's all my fault. If only I had answered her calls, she could have someone to talk to. She's from a single-parent family, and if it weren't for me, she wouldn't have felt so hopeless; so much so that she thought of herself as a burden and tried to kill herself. Dalilah has relied on me since she was a child; she sees me as her brother. And what do I do? After getting together with you, I stopped caring about her.”

“I see...” F/N muttered, her heart slowly turned cold.

Dalilah's delicate voice came through. “Sethos, can you stay with me tonight? I'm really not trying to bother you. It's just... my mom. She has to work the night shift at the supermarket, so she can't be here.”

“I'll stay with you.” Sethos relented. “I won't go anywhere.”

Without a word, F/N left the hospital before it started pouring and made a call to Kinich, one of Sethos' university seniors and currently one of most eligible bachelors in Teyvat's elite circles.

Sethos always told F/N that Kinich was a notorious playboy, but he had told her with certainty, “Kinich may be carefree most of the time, but when it comes to important matters, he's reliable.”

Kinich arrived faster than F/N expected. “F/N?”

“Yes.” F/N nodded. “Sorry to trouble you tonight.”

“No need for that.” Kinich chuckled softly.

F/N went back to the hospital room to find Sethos.

Dalilah was clinging tightly to his arm. When she saw F/N enter, she smiled, “F/N, you haven't left yet?”

F/N simply ignored her and turned to Sethos. “I've already called Kinich to take me home. Take as long as you want to take care of her. Until then, don't bother contacting me.”

Not long after F/N got home, she received a call from Sethos, informing her that he would not be returning that night as Dalilah had no one to take care of her and he was worried.

F/N then checked Dalilah's WeTalk Moments and was not surprised to see a photo of Sethos sleeping beside her hospital bed with that caption 'Nothing compares to your company.'

A few days later, Dalilah was discharged from the hospital; according to her, she was already in the late stages of stomach cancer and the doctors advised her to stop treatment, saying she should just eat and drink whatever she wanted. Because of this, Sethos turned down a significant portion of his work and said he wanted to spend her remaining days with her.

At first, F/N tolerated it, considering the dying deserve respect. But she soon realized what Dalilah wanted was all of Sethos' free time. Several times, while she and Sethos were having a meal together, Dalilah would call and he would leave immediately. He would hurriedly apologize to F/N and then leave her sitting alone.

After it happened a few times, F/N confronted Sethos. “She has so little time left. Wouldn't it better for her to spend it with her family?”

“Her family doesn't care for her.” Sethos explained. “She's from a single-parent family. I thought you could understand...”

“It's fine if you accompany her occasionally.” F/N spat. “But you don't have to be at her beck and call like a nanny. Can't you maintain some distance?”

“She's a little sister I've watched grow up.” Sethos protested. “And now she has stomach cancer and needs someone with her. Forget it. I don't want to argue with you. Just don't start a fight.”

“That's your problem.” F/N responded. “Don't put it on me.”

“I really don't know what to do.” Sethos ran his hands in his hair in frustration. “F/N, can you please try to understand? It's just for a month or two, I swear. I only see her as a sister.”

“I don't want to deal with this.” F/N was also frustrated. “If you want to be with her, then go ahead. Don't bother informing me.”

That Saturday, F/N received a call from Sethos, “Didn't you say you want to go to Disneyland? Dalilah also said she wants to go. Do you want to join us? If you're coming, I'll buy an extra ticket.”

“I'm not going.” F/N bit back her anger. “I have a baking lesson later this morning. Besides, who goes to Disneyland and brings along a 'little sister'?”

At that moment, F/N heard Dalilah's pitiful voice on the other end. “Is it because F/N is prejudiced against me that she doesn't want to go? Or maybe she's uncomfortable with my illness...”

“It's not prejudice.” Sethos assured. “It's just that you kept calling me back then, so it's natural for her to be suspicious.”

Dalilah, sounding a little more aggrieved, said, “Forget it, Sethos. I know whatever I say won't matter. Maybe it's better if the two of you just go. After all, I'm on this condition. You don't have to worry about my feelings.”

Hearing that, Sethos once again felt like the worst person in the world. “Don't say things like that. I can always take F/N another time, but I need to be there for you.”

At that, F/N wordlessly hung up the phone, not wanting to hear anymore of their back-and-forth through her phone.

That evening, F/N saw Dalilah's latest post: a grid of nine photos. In almost every one, she was holding onto his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They looked just like a couple deeply in love. Her caption read: 'You're always the best to me.' and in the comments, she added, 'Don't jump to conclusions, everyone. This isn't an official announcement, this is just my childhood sweetheart. But the person taking our pictures at Disneyland today said we look so perfect together.'

F/N deleted Dalilah from her WeTalk friend list without hesitation.

At the beginning of the year, Sethos bought a car and promised he would pick F/N up from work every day. But he wasn't come even once lately and F/N's nosy coworkers had been subtly asking if they had broken up. F/N's reply was only two words, “Almost there.'

After the sadness, all that was left was a growing pile of disappointment. But in the end, wasn't that exactly what Dalilah wanted? But F/N was determined not to let Dalilah have her way so easily.

At this moment, the notification alarm from F/N's WeTalk sounded; it was a voice message from Kinich. 'Have you had dinner? I don't know how to cook.'

'Not yet.' F/N typed in her reply. 'I'm basting salmon to eat with rice.'

'If you're home, I'll come over with some ingredients from the prime market.' Kinich typed back. 'I really want to taste your cooking.'

Kinich arrived quickly, carrying a bag of groceries.

Sethos sent F/N a message just as Kinich and F/N were about tuck into some vegetarian pasta bake. “Spent the whole day at Disney yesterday. I'm exhausted. Came back and crashed on the bed. What are you up to? You're not mad, right?'

'Let's break up.' F/N typed back quickly. 'Don't bother coming to pick me up from work tomorrow. That's Kinich's job now.'

“What's up?” Kinich swallowed his mushroom pasta bake.

“Nothing.” F/N put her phone aside. “Just broke up with someone. Dad was right; I have really bad taste in boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends are something you fun for fun.” Kinich took a sip of his grape raspberry sparkling water. “But husbands are different, especially someone like Sethos. It's good you broke up sooner rather than later.”

“But isn't that how you treat women, too?” F/N asked, drinking her pink grapefruit sparkling water.

“No,” Kinich replied. “How did that saying go? 'A man who doesn't respect himself is like a rotten cucumber.' So, don't misunderstand me.”

The next day after work, a colleague came up to F/N and said, “Oh my Archons, there's a super handsome guy downstairs at the office building. My heart is fluttering and I'm a married woman.”

“How handsome?” F/N was waiting for her computer to shut down.

“Extremely handsome.” the colleague continued to gush. “He's several times more handsome than your boyfriend. But I bet he's here to pick up his girlfriend.” she then showed F/N a picture she had secretly taken and F/N instantly recognized it was Kinich.

When F/N exited the lift, she walked up to Kinich waiting in the lobby. Without saying anything, she latched onto his arm and the pair left the office building.

There were a few messages from Sethos after F/N sent the breakup message the previous day, but F/N hadn't responded. 'Weren't we supposed to never say the word 'breakup' so casually? I know you're just being a little moody, but I absolutely won't agree to breaking up. Please don't ignore me on WeTalk. I know you're mad at me, mad that I didn't keep my promise to pick you up after work.' then, he sent a bunch of 'I love you' stickers.

'As long as you are happy, I'm fine with it.' F/N typed a reply back.

In the days that followed, Kinich came to pick F/N up punctually every day and took her out dinner. Meanwhile, Sethos seemed to have disappeared from the face of the Teyvat, but F/N couldn't be bothered to check up on him anymore.

Until more than half a month later, on the night of F/N's birthday, Sethos suddenly appeared at her door. He was holding a cantaloupe in his left hand and a birthday cake in his right. He smiled and said, “if you don't open the door soon, the property management might kick me out.”

After putting the things down, Sethos immediately tried to hug F/N, only to have her push him away coldly. “My colleagues already celebrated with me at work today.”

“Don't be so stubborn.” Sethos chided. “Colleagues can't compare to a boyfriend. Honestly, it's been my fault these past few weeks for not coming to see you. I actually wanted to wait for your birthday to make up to you. Did you really think I forgot your birthday?”

“Don't give me that.” F/N retorted. “Aren't you going to spend time with your 'good sister'?”

“I'm not spending time with her because...” Sethos paused for a moment. “She's here to celebrate your birthday with me. I think there's been some misunderstanding between you two and I wanted to use this opportunity to clear this up.”

Even before F/N could react, the next second Dalilah jumped in from outside, “F/N, happy birthday.” and the party popper in her hand exploded, scattering confetti all over the floor.

F/N bit back a sigh; since Dalilah wanted to put on a show, she'd play along for one last time.

“I know you have some misunderstandings about me.” Dalilah simpered. “You're the person Sethos loves the most and I feel so bad for taking up his time for so long. I'm sorry.” tears began to well up in her eyes.

Sethos, standing nearby, immediately pulled out a tissue and started wiping her tears. “Don't cry, Dalilah. F/N isn't someone who can't be reasoned with.”

Seeing that F/N had crossed her arms and watching her silently, Dalilah realized F/N wasn't moved. She continued, “After I leave, it'll just be you and Sethos together.”

“That's enough.” F/N cut Dalilah off. “Today is my birthday, not your apology session.”

“Why don't you guys work on the cake?” Sethos suggested, moved by Dalilah's tears. “I'll go cut the cantaloupe.”

“I'll cut the cake.” Dalilah spoke.

“No need.” F/N interrupted. “I'll do it myself.”

“F/N, just let me cut it.” Dalilah pouted. “Or are you really going to be so unforgiving even after I've just apologized?”

“Stop pretending.” F/N snarled. “Isn't it tiring to squeeze out those tears? How much is your apology worth anyway? Do you want to cut even our wedding cake?”

Dalilah's expression changed. “So what, F/N? You know Sethos can't see stand to see me cry. If I throw a tantrum at your wedding, he'll let me cut the wedding cake.” with a proud huff, she squatted by the coffee table. “If you don't let me join you two, then I insist on joining. If you don't let cut your birthday cake and your wedding cake, then I insist on cutting them.”

But just as she was about to grab the plastic knife to cut the cake, F/N was a second faster and snatched the knife.

Dalilah just dropped her previous frail act and behaved like a madwoman, snatching the knife back and giving F/N a cut on her face.

F/N retaliated by slapping the smug Dalilah across the face. “You must have brain cancer, not stomach cancer.”

“What happened?” Sethos hurriedly walked into the scene and saw Dalilah's tears, big as beads, were falling like a broken string of pearls. She was covering the side of her cheek where F/N had slapped her and wailed, “Sethos, I accidentally scratched F/N's face. I'm so sorry.”

“Can you stop crying every time something happens?” F/N stormed over and grabbed Dalilah by the collar. “Stand up and explain yourself.

“That's enough, F/N.” Sethos suddenly shouted and immediately shielded Dalilah behind him. “She's almost dying and you're still arguing with her? The doctors said she can't be upset. Do you know how little time she has left?” he shook his head in disappointment. “You're making a big deal out of a tiny cut on your chin. Is that really more important than her life?”

“Tell me, Sethos.” F/N voice calmly. “If Dalilah were to throw a tantrum and cry at our wedding, would you let her cut the wedding cake?”

“That's...” Sethos blinked.

“Get out.” F/N snarled. “We're done.”

“Fine.” Sethos spat coldly. “We're done. If you hadn't said it, I would have.”

'It's done.' F/N sent a message to Kinich.

“Who hurt your face?” Kinich quickly arrived at F/N's apartment, his usual smile furrowed into a frown. “Sethos? Or that female friend of his?”

After F/N related what had happened, Kinich proceeded to disinfect the cut. “That trash isn't worthy of you.” he then took a phone call and went to the door to retrieve a box of cupcakes with frosting and a bouquet of F/N's favourite tulips. “Congratulations on getting rid that that trash today. Happy birthday.”

Meanwhile, Sethos brought Dalilah back to his place and comforted her for a while.

Dalilah said, “Sethos, maybe I should go down and apologize to F/N. I feel like she's really upset.”

“You didn't do it on propose, yet she slapped you.” Sethos soothed. “She really went too far this time.”

It was midnight; after calming Dalilah down and getting her to sleep in the guest room, the doorbell suddenly rang.

Still angry, Sethos walked to the entrance, only to be met with a punch to the face once he opened the door. Wincing in pain, Sethos finally saw the furious man in front of him; Kinich. “What's wrong with you? What did I do to you?”

“Do you even realize what you've done?” Kinich snapped and landed two more punches on Sethos.

“I get that you're standing up for F/N.” Sethos argued, trying to dodge the sudden assault. “But just hear me out...”

“If your head isn't clear, then don't go bothering F/N.” Kinich hissed. “I'm not interested in your excuses.”

After getting a thorough beating from Kinich who had later left, Sethos was extremely frustrated; if it wouldn't for the fact that he was Kinich's subordinate at work, he would have fought back. But after thinking it over, he realized he was at fault in this situation. At F/N's place, he had handled things poorly, focusing on Dalilah's cancer and her need to avoid stress. He hadn't considered the fact that F/N's chin had also been injured.

The next morning, as F/N was preparing a mushroom quiche for breakfast, she and Kinich discussed her plan to move out. She had blocked and deleted all of Sethos' contact information. With Kinich's help, she quickly moved out of the apartment.

Sethos had just received some good news; Dalilah's latest check-up revealed that her condition had miraculously improved. He planned to take her out for a nice meal to celebrate. The restaurant they chose was very popular with two rows of people waiting for seats outside. So he and Dalilah sat down to wait.

As they waited, Sethos opened his phone and started scrolling through social media. As he scrolled, he came across a post from Kinich from the previous week: 'Together with her.'

Sethos squinted his eyes to take a closer look; the woman in Kinich's arms was none other than F/N. She had her long hair tied in a loose bun, her face beaming with a smile as she kissed Kinich's cheek.

Dalilah noticed something was off and leaned over to look at his phone and her voice filled with excitement. “F/N found a rich boyfriend. I didn't expect her to find a new boyfriend so quickly. It seems she didn't care much about you...”

Sethos cut her off. “Don't jump to conclusions. She's obviously doing this to get back at me.”

“How can that be?” Dalilah scoffed. “She's already kissing him.”

“I need to find out what's going on.” Sethos hissed. “Dalilah, you go ahead and eat. I'll come back after I get to the bottom of this.”

He started his car and drove as fast as he could, one hand texting F/N. 'What's going on with you and him?' just as he sent the message, a red exclamation mark appeared next to it and Sethos realized F/N had changed her number.

Sethos rushed to the elevator and headed to the tenth floor of the apartment. He knocked on the door until his wrist was sore, but F/N never answered.

“You're under arrest for illegal harassment.” after some time, Sethos found himself pinned against the wall by two police officers.

“My girlfriend lives here.” Sethos argued.

“Officers.” a stranger appeared at the door. “Don't listen to him. I just moved in recently and I don't know this man at all.”

After work on Monday, Sethos found out Dalilah had somehow gotten into his place.

“I need to tell you something.” Sethos tossed his suitcase on the couch. “Since your condition has improved, you shouldn't stay at my place anymore. I've helped you fulfil your wishes. So go back to your own home.”

Later as he was about to take a shower, he passed Dalilah's room and thought to check if she had packed her things. Then, he overheard her talking on the phone with a friend.

“What should I do?” Dalilah wailed. “He wants to kick me out again. I regret saying my condition improved.”

“Then, just tell him your stomach cancer worsened.” the friend suggested. “Tell him that your last wish is to be a bride and he will have to marry you. Cry in front of him again and repeat the whole act. He'll be under your thumb in no time.”

Dalilah had just nodded when her door flung open. She turned around and was stunned to see Sethos in the doorway.

“So, your stomach cancer was a lie?” Sethos glared. “You've been playing me this whole time?”

Dalilah tried to act clueless. “No, Sethos. Listen to me...”

“You made me feel like a joke.” Sethos shoved Dalilah out. “Get out! I never want to see you again. Leave and don't ever come back.” he tossed Dalilah's suitcase out ten minutes later.

A/N: Kinich fic No. 4; I'm pulling for him for my baby account.

[emiixuu]

gratitude to dedicated

a continuation to ‘blossoming devotion’ in ‘the cat puppet and bunny doll’ series

💌 pairing :: harbinger!scaramouche x doll!reader

🌌 content warning :: unhealthy & developing relationship and characters

📝 synopsis :: and I shall have all of you, and you shall hide the pieces.

✒️ word count :: 4,084

🐰 author’s note :: after the events of blossoming devotion, before the events of puppet’s beloved

Like birds chirping, it seemed like the Fatui members probably have done all their duties with now not much to do except for their idle chit-chat. Gossips and rumours, they were almost scaring one another with their stories of what happened to the latest Fatui recruit.

An unknown addition working under the Sixth. Some say The Balladeer has sunk their teeth right into them and sucked them dry after they were an utter failure on the last mission. Others that he has quite literally cooked and ate them, forcing the others to eat with him, too.

It was you. As far as you were aware, you were alive and well. You were not eaten, you were not sucked dry.

The story has been twisted too many times to the point it was nothing but a spooky tale now. Another way to make the Sixth Harbinger even more frightening to the eyes of Fatui.

Silly rumours, you weren’t sure how they exactly came to exist. On the last mission, you were injured in the stomach by an arrow while trying to protect him. When you really try to think about it, he did, technically, taste you after you started to bleed. You didn’t find it scary, nor abnormal.

Thirst is common to humans so why did it terrify them so much to the point of creating these stories?

Kunikuzushi was, indeed, just thirsty. And you were, oh, so available to him at that moment.

Thirsty for whatever it is he was in need of.

“Am I not allowed to join you on your missions anymore?” You ask simply, looking up at him as you sit in your destined place in the corner of the room, on the floor. Beneath your knees, a kind gesture from him laid, a comfortable pillow.

There have been occurrences he has shown you kindness. Those moments were fleeting but appreciated nonetheless. You will take anything you could get.

“You will be better off here.” He spoke firmly, looking down upon you as he hovered above you. His arms crossed, watching you as if he was contemplating on what to do with you. As if you were an unneeded leftover he had to deal with.

Frankly, you were unfit. He voiced that to Dottore, too. Unfortunately, he was also good for nothing. Kunikuzushi has asked him to make you more resilient, to which he just shrugged and talked about how that would be a waste of material and time. Tsk, he wasted all that time before to create you but no longer cares to make you better? What were his plans anyways? Kunikuzushi didn’t want to dwell on that, he’d rather not get into trying to understand what was going on in Dottore’s head.

“Why? I won’t jump into danger again if you are worried about that.” You try to reason with him, not wanting him to leave you behind. It would be far too lonely and boring to stay here on your own. Staying away from him for too long would not do any good for you.

“And if you do? Do you think I want to visit Dottore everyday?” He shakes his head in disapproval, clearly he wouldn’t let himself get persuaded by you. You could plead and beg, but you will be staying right here.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask. At this point maybe he should just ‘turn you off’ when he is away.

“I don’t know? Find something to do here?” He sighs, a little annoyed at having to deal with you, “just don’t get into trouble.”

You wouldn’t get into trouble. How could you do that, stuck between four walls? You couldn’t even think of any ways to cause problems. Flood his room? There was no water in here as far as you knew.

He left simply without saying anything else, leaving you all alone, not even sparing you another look.

Silence. The room was eerily dead except for the sound of the clock ticking. Ticking and ticking, minutes turning into hours, restless, you couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. Not to mention, all you had in mind was Kunikuzushi and he wasn’t even here to delight your thoughts.

Standing up from the position of your comfy pillow, you hesitantly walked around the room as if worried you might damage the floor beneath you if you weren’t careful enough with your steps. You stood still before the table, your electrogun, staring at it as it were staring back at you.

The urge to grab it and leave the room, following right behind him was almost unbearable. Leaving you here? How boring. You wanted to be of help to him. What if he’ll just throw you out after realizing you were no use for him? Having to prove yourself worthy of him, you couldn’t stay here. He needed you, too.

Because, who will protect him if not you? He might have told you he doesn’t need protection, but that fell flat on your ears. Your determination was much stronger than that.

You take the electrogun Kunikuzushi has given you in your hands and before anything could stop you, you walk right out the door of his room.

The hall behind the door, you have just gone through, was a long one. Empty yet fancy place. One could get lost here. You look from one side to the other, which way? You remember walking in both directions while you were following Kunikuzushi around before. But you couldn’t possibly know which way he would have gone this time. You didn’t even know what he was up to today.

Suddenly, a certain voice startled you, making you react quickly by aiming the electrogun on whoever it was.

“Ah? What do we have here? Scaramouche didn’t take you with him?” Dottore hums in thought, observing you as you clutched the gun in your hands, pointing it right at him. Your hands were trembling. You didn’t even notice him, where did he come from?

“What are your plans? Going around the Zapolyarny Palace and attacking everyone in your way?” He tuts at you, calmly pushing your gun away with his finger, “I don’t remember programming you to attack Fatui.”

“I’m sorry, you startled me, Father.” You lower your electrogun. What were you thinking? There was no threat inside the palace. You shouldn’t be so jumpy. Kunikuzushi wouldn’t be happy with you accidentally harming anyone from the organization while he was away. That would just cause issues for him.

“Did he leave you behind?” He smiles wryly at you and you nod to his question, “of course, you poor thing, he thinks you are not worth his time.”

He cooed sadly, as if you were a wounded little bird, unable to fly. Sudden wave of anxiety flows through you, his words alarming. Not worth his time?

“B- But I, he told me to wait for him.” You retort weakly. Dottore only laughs at your increasing worry, he knew he hit the bull’s-eye.

“Wait for you? And what is it that you are doing now?” He tilts his head at you, studying you. Evidently, you were doing the opposite of what you have been told to. You were aware Kunikuzushi might be displeased if you showed up in front of him, but you were doing it for him. Dottore just shook his head at you in pity.

“Come on, my child. Let’s repair that, hm?” He holds out his hand for you, luring you sweetly.

You raise your hand, hesitating for a moment. Would Kunikuzushi get mad? You were aware that he didn’t seem to like Dottore much. Still, there was no reason to not listen to your creator.

Kunikuzushi would understand. So you took Dottore’s hand.

Whatever The Doctor does to you will stay between the two of you. You won’t tell, not like you could. You won’t go to Kunikuzushi telling him about how you so eagerly wanted to go after him but were stopped by Dottore. Neither will he tell him he has borrowed his possession. It was just for a minute or two, he won’t notice and you won’t know the next time you are back in Kunikuzushi’s room either.

Essentially, nothing happened.

Sitting up abruptly, Kunikuzushi awoke. The room was dark with only the moon giving it a light, his vision slightly blurry as he started to come back to reality. He touches his cheek, feeling a wetness on them. Tears? He cried in his sleep again it seemed.

It was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare that was gnawing at him once more. He was in his bed, in his chamber. He was fine, everything was fine. He shouldn’t let it get to him. It comes and goes.

Sighing, he looks to the side and almost falls off right from the bed. Your face right next to his, your eyes watching him, a curious look on your face. It might have been a mistake to move you from the floor to bed.

“Were you still not taught about personal space?” Kunikuzushi grumbles. He seemed a bit softer than his usual irritated self as he just woke up.

You were far too close, observing him as if he was an unknown specimen to you.

“Are those tears?” You ask, your hand reaching for his face. Before you could get your hand on him, he slapped it away, not amused by your nosiness.

“Probably.” He deadpans.

What kind of answer was that? Now he wanted to slap himself instead, cringing at his own words, it must have been the grogginess. He didn’t want you to see that, it was nothing important. Crying in his sleep was no more than an ordinary occasional occurrence that meant nothing. Just a bad dream that will soon be forgotten.

“It’s nothing.” He says, rather quietly, his eyes no longer paying you any attention. Such behaviour from him was uncharacteristic. It seemed almost vulnerable, the small cracks glowing through his sharp exterior.

His expression made your heart ache, hollow yet with a hint of hidden sorrow.

Looking away won’t save him from you as you move on the bed to be right in front of him. Slowly, you raised your hand to his face again. Touch – gentle – like carefully holding a fine porcelain. Yet, touching him would be far more poisonous than the chance of him shattering under your tender fingertips.

You cup his face in your hands, surprisingly, he does not move away, nor did he smile or react in any way. He just stared at you, utterly unfeeling to one’s eyes. His face wanted to hide so much from the whole world, to bury himself entirely. You peeked behind that facade with dedicated solicitude. It was a once in a lifetime moment. Perhaps, it was the quietness of the room, coating the both of you in an engrossed bubble of each other. The moon gazing at the two of you, the only witness to your sin.

“Even Gods have the ability to shed tears.” You murmur, kissing his cheek as you sit in between his legs, feeding him with the promise of divinity, your words wrapping around him like silk.

You still didn’t understand what personal space meant, he assumed. Otherwise, why would you still be this close despite his warnings? But he couldn’t be cruel to the one who held him on pedestal.

“Weren’t you just made to be my glory, hm?” He quips, a light chuckle escaping past his lips but it does not reach his eyes.

Kunikuzushi ignores the itch to push you down and smother you with his desire. To sink his teeth into you, taste what you have been granting him with, closely and completely. Instead, all he does is slips past your hands and rests his face into the crook of your neck, warm and mellow place. He gives into this short tranquility with you. It felt right. There was no threat, he could lose himself in you. You were worthy. You were his. His rise. What good would it have done him to bleed you dry all at once?

Darkness enveloped you as the fine silk covered your eyes. One hand of his around your waist, the other holding your hand gently, leading you somewhere. Blindfolded and without any idea of what awaits you. Kunikuzushi said he wants to surprise you. You count your steps and the number is not so high, wherever he is taking you is not so far.

“Here we are,” he mutters quietly, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the dark ambience with his voice, “careful.”

He slowly sits you down, the chair beneath you cushioned and comfortable. He doesn’t take off the silk on your eyes yet as he moves away from you. A quick sound of fire flaring, you flinch a little. Your small frightened reaction forced a hushed chuckle out of him.

“Do you not trust me?” He asks, his voice heightened to your senses, you couldn’t see but from the sound of his voice he was definitely smirking.

“Nothing to do with trust. You are free to do whatever you’d like with me at the end of the day and I shall trust your judgement.” You mumble into the darkness. You were just startled by the loud noise of a fire, that was all. You weren’t scared of him.

“Am I? Hm, so should I burn you?” He questions, you could feel sudden warmness in front of you. The fire he ignited, right in front of your face. His early amusement eerily fading away.

You didn’t dare move away from it, you stood still. No words came out of your mouth.

“Are you not afraid to turn into dust? The doctor might not be able to fix you again.” He taunts you.

“I will accept death if it’s chosen upon me by you.” You reply, but there is a hint of shakiness in your voice betraying you. A hint of fear. Of course. Even a puppet fears the everlasting darkness, to turn into nothing.

“Heh, it’s fine. You don’t have to act brave. Are you trying to impress me?” He cackles, moving the fire away from you again. He was only messing with you, playing with your mind.

He steps close to you again, carefully untying the silk as he lets you see again. You open your eyes, starting to slowly focus on what is in front of you. You found yourself in a room surrounded by a new darkness with a single candle lit on the table. A cake that seemed meticulously prepared to perfection on the rather expensive-looking plate.

You eye him, the utter confusion on your face tugs a self-satisfied smile on his, “I believe I have not given you any food to try yet.”

His words surprised you, did he really want to give you food? You did not need to eat, nor anything else of the human needs. This was not a necessity, but a pleasure. From the concealed benevolence of his, he has decided to give you a taste. A gratitude for your sweet worship. A pleasure for pleasure.

“T-There is no need, my Lord-” you shook your head, taken aback by his action. It would be a waste of cake if you ate it.

“No. This is a present from me. I’m not giving you permission to refuse,” he quickly interrupts you with a frown, seemingly not happy with your bashfulness, “and did I not tell you to call me Kunikuzushi?”

You reluctantly nodded, looking back at the dessert on the table.

“Strawberry cake,” he adds almost gently, trying to teach you something ‘new’, “that’s a fruit.”

You were not stupid. You knew what strawberries were. It seems he is underestimating your intelligence. It was not surprising he would do that. He looked down upon most people. Still, he should be aware by now that you did have a basic knowledge of the world. You nod to his explanation, “I know what strawberries are.”

“Don’t give me an attitude.” He chides you, the tone of his voice turning dangerous.

You look at him once more, panicking a little, “I didn’t!”

For a moment, he just stares at you as if what you have spoken has insulted him greatly. He was already quite lenient with you than he was with anyone else. He was even kind to you, in his own way. Gave you food, tried to provide you with an insight to the human world and all he gets is you muttering that you know? Maybe he should just throw the cake away.

Instead, he just bursts into humourless laughter after what seemed like an hour-long staring contest, sneering at you mockingly, “you should see your face.”

He was a bit hard to figure out. A ticking bomb that threatened to explode at any time, yet it didn’t. You were glad it didn’t. You admired him but that didn’t mean you weren’t a little scared of him at times. Gods are powerful, aren’t they? It was normal to fear a God.

He took the tiny fork in his hand, pointing at it, “a fork used for desserts.”

Now that was on purpose, you were sure as his lips curled up into a sly smile, his eyes glinting with sardonic mischief. He didn’t put the fork in your hands, instead he sunk it into the cake, slowly taking a piece of it.

“Open up.” He spoke in a gentle manner, coaxing you into opening your mouth for him, “you’re special so I will feed you myself.”

The word ‘special’ coating on his tongue, sticking, honeyed. You open your mouth for him, letting him place the piece of strawberry cake in there. You let the flavour melt in your mouth for a few seconds before starting to chew it, the fruity jam harmonizing with the fluffy cake on your tongue, releasing a newly found satisfaction in you. Sweet, light yet rich, and inviting as if made with the most tender love in one’s mind.

“It’s good.” You spoke with your mouth filled with it. He clicked his tongue at you, but no scolding words came out of him for talking with your mouth full, the look on his face still somewhat endearing. As soon as you swallowed, another piece came right into your mouth, not giving you a space to talk, resulting in a strained whine from you.

His smirk widened, shushing you. His free finger moved to the corner of your lips, wiping off a bit of cream on it right back into your mouth, “messy and clumsy.”

After you were done with this piece, you quickly tried to talk again, “don’t you want a taste too?”

“No, thanks. I am not a fan of these sweet things.” He mumbles, while again pressing the fork in front of your lips.

You were slightly surprised he gave you something he didn’t like. If he dislikes cakes, why prepare one for you? Of course, you still appreciated what he did for you. You were sure it came out of a place of care.

“Then what-” as soon as you opened your mouth again to talk, he shoved more into you. You frown lightly to which he just smiles in faux-innocence as if he wasn’t aware you wanted to talk. He didn’t care about your growing frustration and you didn’t try to show it more than the small frown on your face. You wouldn’t throw a fit with him.

“Then what do you like?” You manage to ask before he feeds you.

“Tea.” A simple reply comes out of his lips, not interested in having conversation with you at the moment.

He was simply enjoying feeding you the cake he himself prepared, made with only the greatest ingredients. He knew how to bake, and he was definitely not bad at it. It was not something he has done a lot. There was no reason for it, he didn’t enjoy the things he baked, and who would he bake for?

The Sixth Harbinger baking? As if he would let anyone from Fatui see him like that. He didn’t mind you seeing him like that. Definitely not, you were much different from those insects.

The last bite of the cake was presented before you, ready to eat it, you opened your mouth once more for him, expecting the taste of the velvety cake soon to meet you one last time. But there was nothing. The last bite of cake went right into his mouth. A hint of disappointment played on your face as you were looking forward to savouring the cake for the last time. Pouting at him, it was like taking candy from a child. Easy and slightly mean. But you would not complain, you wouldn’t talk back to him, would you? Smirking at you as he was chewing the cake, he seemed pleased with himself.

Without any warning, he leans his face into yours to the point of lips meeting, his hand on your face making sure you wouldn’t withdraw from him. Gently, he bites onto your lower lip to make you part your lips. And you did. He wasted no time, his tongue pushing the contents into your mouth, all of it, back where it was supposed to go in the first place, unintendedly caressing and intertwining with your tongue in an almost sensual manner. But he didn’t stay in your comfort any longer than he was supposed to, not even to explore you a little. He held back his selfishness. As he was rid of all the pastry, he moved back from you. You let the taste melt and savour it on your tongue a little longer, before swallowing it with ease. Kunikuzushi has made it seem like nothing, he simply mouth-fed you.

Bewilderment was not enough to describe the level of confusion he has given you. Did he really find this much amusement in messing with you? You could not predict his behaviour, it may be that you just need to study him a lot more. The Doctor didn’t give you a manual to understand the Sixth.

“I didn’t want to damage your teeth too much. It was your first time eating and the last bite was not so soft.” He says but it seemed more like he just made that up to feed your gullible mind, “plus you are right. I should have tried it first before feeding it to you. My mistake.”

“In any way, you should be honored you got it right from me.” He shrugs, putting the fork away on the finished plate. You were honored, perhaps his own saliva made the cake even better, that he would be as kind as to not only spoon-feed you but also directly feed you from his own mouth to yours. How thoughtful from the man you see as your God.

He did like playing with his food though. So it was no different.

“Thank you.” You say softly. He brings tissue to your lips, making sure you are all clean and proper, simply discarding it on the plate when he is done.

He steps away to the different room and in a few minutes or so he comes back, holding a tea set. He puts it onto the table, the flame of the candle still dancing, wax dripping. Taking the teapot in his hands, he pours the tea for you and himself, too.

“One cup of tea for you.” He hands you the cup and you take it into your hands, warming them.

The taste was bitter. Leaving a sharp, unapologetic edge across your tastebuds, no sweetness whatsoever. It was much different from the cake you had. So this is what he likes. He seems to be looking at you the whole time as you tasted the tea, his eyes not moving from you, not even to sip his own drink.

“How do you like it?” He questions, getting a little impatient as he waits for your opinion.

“It’s.. interesting.” You reply, intrigued by the flavour, your words careful as you drink more. The bitterness was addictive, each sip sending an intense wave through you. It was fitting for him, you were not surprised he liked tea. Addictive, intense, unapologetically sharp.

He smiles, more to himself than at you, content with the fact you were enjoying the tea.

“Want more?”

It would be Kunikuzushi’s pleasure to bestow upon you more of him.

[aryuunachigiri]

pleasepleaseplease tag your non-reader friendly posts correctly, I'm tired of thinking one post is an "x reader" but the mc is an oc 🥲🥲🥲🥲

yes we can just imagine ourselves in the oc's place but I'm telling y'all it doesn't hit as hard as reader-insert's 😓

actually this is kinda all applies under the not tagged correctly posts where they get tagged as "male" reader but the content in it is afab 😢 or the non gender-neutral ones getting tagged in a gendered post

[johnpriceslamb]

teeny hyperfem reader drabble don’t mind me >.<

Childe wud be absolutely ecstatic over a hyperfem dollie … just scratches that itch in his brain to nurture and protect such a sweet darling babie, despite if you’re capable enough to protect yourself from harm.

He adores watching you dress up in such frilly little outfits that he bought for you.. loves how it accentuates your princess-like figure — no no, you are a princess, forgive him.. Asks you to twirl so he could see the whole outfit, might flash a cheeky comment here or there. Oh oh, and how he loves the lace, frills, pearls, bows, anything dainty and nimble which accessorised your bomb of a pink outfit. Pink pink pink, it’s just everywhere. Did he mind? absolutely not.

Don’t forget that little cherry on top! your sickeningly sweet doe eyes. Flash him that look- the one were your lashes flutter slowly, glossy lips expanding, sweet eyes glistening from the light- and he’ll crumple onto his knees, the sheer thigh highs you adorned in his vision, smooching your thigh as if you were the prettiest of princess of all… which, you are!

[knoepfl]

Against the Program

16/24

Characters:

• Il Dottore – The cold and calculating Second Harbinger from Genshin Impact. He is a genius scientist who views everything, even his creations, through a detached, analytical lens. His rare moments of warmth are fleeting, masked beneath his fascination with innovation and perfection.

• Reader – An automaton created by Dottore, designed to serve as an assistant. Over time, the Reader has evolved beyond their original programming, exhibiting human traits like creativity, compassion, and courage.

Trigger Warnings:

• Emotional Vulnerability – Themes of fear, hope, and seeking approval are present, especially in the relationship between creator and creation.

• Power Dynamics – The relationship between Dottore and the Reader reflects an imbalance of power and control, which might evoke discomfort for some readers.

• Exploration of Humanity – Philosophical undertones about individuality, free will, and breaking boundaries of design or expectation are woven throughout the story.

Masterlist

Words: 647

You weren’t just another assistant or experiment. No, you were a creation of his own genius: an automaton, perfect in form and function. Programmed to assist, to obey, to complete tasks without error or hesitation. And yet… you had evolved. Somewhere along the way, your programming had bent under the weight of something you couldn’t identify.

---

The laboratory buzzed with the quiet hum of machinery and the flicker of blue light that painted every corner. It was cold, clinical—a reflection of its master. Yet, amidst the order and precision, there was you, a rogue variable in the ever-calculating mind of Il Dottore.

Something human.

And it had all led to this moment.

Your fingers—still and precise as they worked—moved against the expectations of your coding. The small gears clicked softly as you pieced together the contraption. A gift. A present. For him.

It was entirely illogical. You knew it wasn’t something your creator, the Second Harbinger, would ever request or need. Yet, the thought of presenting him with something you had made filled your circuits with an unfamiliar warmth.

Hours ticked by as you worked in secret, hidden in the back recesses of the laboratory. Every moment you expected him to walk in, his piercing gaze tearing through you with a mix of curiosity and disappointment. But he never did.

When the device was finished, it gleamed in the dim light. A delicate mechanical bird, crafted from scraps of silver and gold, with intricate gears that would let it sing when wound.

The day finally came when you gathered your courage. He was seated at his desk, multiple screens in front of him displaying complex data. His mask sat beside him, revealing the sharp angles of his face and the faintest trace of a smirk as he analyzed his findings.

You approached cautiously, the tiny bird hidden behind your back.

“Ah, there you are,” he said without looking up. “I was beginning to wonder if my creation had suddenly found a way to bypass her tasks. Highly improbable, of course, but… amusing to consider.”

“I… have something for you,” you said, your voice quiet but steady.

That caught his attention. His red eyes snapped to yours, narrowing slightly. “Something for me?” he echoed, his tone a mix of intrigue and skepticism.

You stepped forward and held out the small bird, its polished surface catching the light.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, he leaned forward, his gloved hand taking the bird with surprising gentleness.

“You made this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the sharp edge of his usual tone dulled by something else.

You nodded. “I thought… it might please you. It’s not perfect, but I worked hard to—”

“Against your programming,” he interrupted, his gaze locking onto yours. “You defied the parameters I set for you.”

You froze, unsure how to respond. Fear twisted in your chest. Would he see this as a failure? A betrayal?

But then, he chuckled—a low, rich sound that sent a shiver through you.

“Fascinating,” he said, leaning back in his chair and turning the bird in his hands. “You’ve surpassed your design in ways I didn’t anticipate. You continue to surprise me.”

He wound the small mechanism, and the bird began to sing, its delicate melody filling the air.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze softening as he looked at it. Then, his eyes flicked back to you. “And utterly unnecessary. But I… appreciate the sentiment.”

Your circuits hummed with relief and an odd sense of pride.

“Thank you, Dottore,” you said softly.

“No,” he said, a small, rare smile curving his lips. “Thank you. This proves your potential is far greater than I imagined. I’ll have to see how far I can push you.”

Though his words carried the promise of more experiments, his tone held something deeper—a genuine curiosity, and perhaps, the faintest trace of affection.

---

[mehiwilldoitlater]

What if Y/N becomes a host or vessel of a powerful entity intending to bring finality to the world? Kinda like Herrscher of the Void from Honkai if you even know that. What if Y/N gets passed by said entity, and how would things go out with them, wukong, and the rest of the characters?

Liu'er was never angry. 

To Wukong, a few things were certain, and one of them was that his friend, his mate, was the epitaph of calm and reason. Not this time.

"Did it ever cross your mind that I too could be affected?! That losing her would mean something to me too?! NO OF COURSE NOT! You just need to lash out, uh?!"

You were the creator. That's what everyone always said. The one and only, the true manifestation of life on this planet. How was it possible for you to be possessed by the end?

How did he not notice? The signals, everything... It was there, and he just let it happen.

His own desire to make others pay had clouded his mind, and this was the result.

You, his other mate, were under the influence of a creature that week only destruction and death on this world. It was your resentment that had called it here? Was his own?

"..."

"Came on! Now be angry! Do what you do best!"

"..."

"SAY SOMETHING!"

"... Liu'er..." His voice was calm and collected. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't shout it at you."

The macaque looked at his mate, his eyes fueled with anger and loss for what had happened to you.

///

Wukong is a proud one, but he's not stupid! He knows that, if it's necessary, an alliance must be made.

Maybe not with the archons of the nations that had hunted you, since he's too holding a grudge, but he would personally ask for help from the ones that he trusted or thought would help.

The travel is the first on the list. 

Lumine was always someone that he found trusted. She had always helped everyone and never raised her sword at you. She was one of your first protectors, and if you cared for her, he cared too. To be fair, he didn't even need to call her. She was the one that rushed to the island alongside Beidou, and she immediately proposed to help him in this mess.

"I won't leave her like this; she doesn't deserve more pain than she had already felt!"

"In that case, we'll raise our weapons together, sister."

The only archon that he can truly trust is Nahida. She'll be at his side, and Will will immediately work alongside Ba to find a good strategy and find a solution.

"It's like rotten seed. It has found ground in her pain and lonelyness."

"Can we fix it?" Asked the general, observing the status of their world under your corrupted work.

"Maybe we don't have complete knowledge about it, but maybe... the tree or memories... maybe it could help..."

"WAIT! We could forget the memory of our world! You couldn't outfit at risk!"

"Memories will be reforged, Ba. We must save what we have now. I won't let this demon corrupt a soul like the One of the Creator; the mistakes of others won't shape our future."

Neuvilette will completely embrace his status as an elemental dragon once more, reconnecting with his swore brother Wukong. He had always had a space in his heart for him, and now this affection will be put into trying to save you. While Sumeri held a neutral position over your man Hunt, Fontaine had banned it completely. Not only was Furina completely against it, but Neuvilette knew what you really were and suggested rescuing you instead of hurting you. Wukong had found you first, and he was grateful for that. And now, the nation of justice had to rise again in your favor to save you.

"I may not be the one that rules Fontaine any more, but this doesn't mean that I'll stand down!"

Wukong looked at the girl. Furina, the one that had always looked down on herself, was now secure, sweating her alliance with him—no, with you.

Neuvilette seemed proud to be able to stand by her side now more than ever. Both of them were always on the same level when it was about you, and now more than ever, the star of Fontaine was determined to do what needed to be done.

Wukong will do everything to bring you back. It would even destroy Celestia's itself if needed.

Nothing stays between you and him, not even the ending of their world together.

[prttykittes]

ෆ Perv! Unspecified X Afab! reader [you/your]

— Synopsis:: He loves you so much but hes so shy so he uses you aka an random girl he hooks up!

CW. Oral sex(female), Sex while standing up, P in V, perverted character, character doesn't care for the girl in this and just wants to imagine it's you, no aftercare

A/N :: This was inspired by scary movie 2! :3, I watched this movie with my family, Scary movie franchise is funny but weird at the same time— written by a minor

[MASTERLIST] — (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)⁠ノ hihihiihiihihihi

He grunts while he holds "you" up, his head between "your" neck. "Your" legs were wrapped around him, "your" arms wrapped around his neck. "You" were clenching around him, he lets out moans while he closes his eyes and ignores the girl's voice, trying to imagine it's your voice not hers. He opens his eyes and is met with a paper bag over her head, she tries to take it off. "No, no. Don't take it off, you look hot like this." He mutters to the girl, he was lying but he didn't want to see her face, it would ruin his imagination. The girl nods her head and holds the paper bag in her head, he closes his kinds and roughly fucks "you" against the door, his movements making the door rattle and make loud banging sounds, like how he is banging "you" right now. He grunts when he mutters out your name, god "you" felt so tight around his cock. He kisses "your" shoulder before his dick squirts out white sticky liquid inside of "your" cunt! The girl tries to take the bag off and kiss him but he shakes his head. "No, don't ruin it" he mutters out, oh god how much he wanted...

[kidicaruslover911]

*me just chilling*

The voices: you know what, you really should write an Arlecchino fanfic where comphet lesbian Y/N has a husband (original character or even someone in the game), and she ends up getting employed as a close assistant to the Knave, who she falls for almost immediately and starts an affair with.

It’s not like Arle makes things any easier for her. Wait- now what if Y/N’s husband was a fellow harbinger EEEEK-

Or something set during war time, Y/N’s husband has to leave to serve and it’s time for Arlecchino to work her magic, she had noticed you for quite some time already-

me: You trippin bruh…you trippin…

[eunxhan]

❝ I am forever your most devoted believer. ❞

• ──────── ⌒⌒⌒ ︶︶︶

• ──────── ⌒⌒⌒ ︶︶︶

Ꮺ : MANDATES ( RULES) — UNDER CONSTRUCTION!

I think I've made myself clear with how many disclaimers and warnings I've put in my posts recently, if you choose to ignore and continue to interact with my posts while being underage. It's not my responsibility on what you consume.

HATEFUL MESSAGES/ASKS

Please know what or how to say your words, keep everything respectful towards me or anyone who interacts with my blogs.

Keep it in a sarcastic level.

REQUESTING/ASKING

Use an identifying name or emojis.

Use of tone markers.

Do not vent in my requests but You can vent to me privately.

Be aware of my boundaries.

Be specific as much as you can, Especially in OCs.

RULES

I do not condone YANDERE behavior in real life, I don't have such fantasies.

Dark and Mature themes are welcome!

I can write for characters that aren't in the fandoms I write for, just give me a specific info or link about the characters.

I write male,gn,nb.

Ꮺ : REQUESTS / ASKS

Maximum of four characters per request

Gender neutral unless specified

Always open to chat

I have the right to ignore some requests.

Ꮺ : I DO NOT CONDONE ANY BAD / YANDERE BEHAVIOR, PLEASE DO NOT ASWELL.

• ──────── ⌒⌒⌒ ︶︶︶

Ꮺ : I DO WRITE

Headcanons | One-shots | DrabblesCrossovers / Alternate Universe

Suggestive | Platonic / Romantic Relationships | Mini Series

Soft, Angst, Dark, NSFW

Ꮺ : I DO NOT WRITE

Pedophilia | INCESTOUS | NON-CON

Minor characters aged up versions. | Never change character's sexuality who's canonically in LGBTQ.

• ──────── ⌒⌒⌒ ︶︶︶

Ꮺ : FANDOMS I WRITE

— I can write for characters in any fandoms.

ANIME

Jujutsu Kaisen

Bungo Stray Dogs

Blue lock

Haikyuu

Blue period

VIDEO GAMES

Obey me

What in the hell is bad?

Mystic messenger

Twisted Wonderland

Genshin Impact

Honkai Impact

Dead by daylight

Identity V

Deadplate

Call of Duty

WEBTOONS

Coming soon..

MISCELLANEOUS

Helluva Boss

Marble hornets

Alien Stage

Harry Potter

Hazbin Hotel

Creepy pasta

The boy

Dead boy detectives

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

Will be making character profiles.

• ──────── ⌒⌒⌒ ︶︶︶

Ꮺ : I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

• ──────── ⌒⌒⌒ ︶︶︶

[scaradooche]

FAKE THAT LOVE!!!

|Genshin Smau Childe x Fem reader|

SYNOPSIS: Tartaglia is a popular streamer with 4 million followers. On a very "unlucky" day for you he posted on his Instagram asking his followers to send him phone number to prank call on his next stream. Unfortunately for you your best friend Aether's little sister is obsessed with Tartaglia and she sent him your phone number to call on stream, and of course with your luck he picked your number to call.

Status: Started on 5/19/24 Ended on ?/?/??

Genere: Strangers to frenemies to friends to lovers, modern au, crack, angst, fake love, one sided love (?)

Warnings: Kys jokes, kms jokes, dark humor, a bunch of profanity, mentions of drugs and alcohol lmk if this needs anymore warnings

Taglist: Whoever wants to be added can ask me to be in it and will be added!! @wannabe-kazuha-main @sl-vega @kukikoooo @kyon-cherri

CAST:

Tartaglia: Mentally drained sillies!!!

Y/n: exhausted and we can't pay our rent (except lumine) 🗣🔊‼️‼️

1.butteater248

2. We did not ask for this lil bro!!!

3. Im just tryna do my job

4. Do I want to get used to get someone more views? Hmm, Sure why not!!!

5. Oh! That’s not..

[lilyinavalley]

Sinners Damnation

CHAPTER I - Encounter Il dottore x female oc

-SPOILER WARNING! This story happens after Scaramouche erases his existence from Irminsul, so even if the events are not happening in the current timeline of the game the 6th harbinger position is still vacant :) -TAGS: isekai but the mc doesn’t know about genshin, scientist mc, angst, eventual smut, fate, dubious morals, dubious ethics, canon divergences, no description of body features other than the characteristics of a general female body

Ao3 link

It is said that love brings the best out of people What if it does the opposite? What happens when two lovers bring the worst out of each other? When their most selfish and disgusting desires come to light?

This is the story of a man and a woman that should’ve never met

Red sky, no stars, crimson wet soil, no grass. I walked, walked and walked, bare feet stained with the dark fluid that came out from the ground every time I took a step. I was completely naked, limbs hurting from the cold and fatigue, hollow eyes always looking ahead, legs that couldn’t stop, as my will was no more.

This is a warning from the Gods above, the appetizer of what my after death is going to be if I continue to stay by his side, such is the conclusion I came to.

Every night I have this dream and every morning I wake up with a bone chilling sense of  dread.

But saying that he is the only reason behind this is an absolute naivety, for I am also a sinner.

Pain, it spread from the tip of my fingers, slow and cold.

I opened my eyes wide and with a moan of pain I looked at my hands, it was snow, the little particles of ice were slowly freezing my skin, the violet color of the phalanxes the proof.

My clothes were in complete contrast to the environment that was around me, a light sundress was covering my aching body, sandals at my feet, a straw hat a few meters from me, strange, considering the unnatural stillness of the air. 

How did I get here? What was I even doing?

Apparently I woke up in a pine forest, no village, human or animal in sight, in the snow there weren't any signs of footprints, not even mine, it looked like I fell from the sky.

The pain was unbearable and apparently at that moment I couldn’t recall the events that led me in that place, nor I had any memories of my past; but giving up wasn’t an option, so with extreme fatigue I stood up and started to walk in a random direction.

The cold pierced my bare skin, the soles of my feet started to sore and bleed from the direct contact with the snow, my lips gained a violet hue, but still, I didn’t want to stop.

As I went forward, the surroundings didn’t change one bit, it was like I wasn’t even moving.

Is it some kind of punishment? What did I even do to deserve this?

At some point one leg didn’t answer my will to go forward anymore, my sight also started to blur, probably my brain was getting frozen too.

After a couple more steps everything turned black.

The young woman fell lifeless on the carpet of snow. Maybe because she didn’t give up, or maybe for sheer luck, a few moments later a group of masked soldiers on their way for a mission saw her body in the distance. Alarmed, they got closer, one of them checked her breath, she still had a pulse, weak, but present nonetheless. He took her gently in his arms, covered her with a greatcoat and laid her in the seats of the coach. The soldiers looked at her curiously, everything about her was strange, she gave off an odd vibe, like she wasn’t even from that world. They also noticed the fact that her body was completely abandoned,  without footprints around her, considering how she was dressed and the fact that she was also alive and that it wasn’t snowing, it was impossible that she was laying there for so much time that the traces were covered by a snowfall. 

The men looked at each other and came to the same conclusion.

“Let’s bring her to our Lord harbinger”

The regular ticking of a pendulum clock, the soft creaking of fire, a reassuring and enveloping warmth, these were the things that I heard first as I slowly woke up from a dreamless and deep slumber. My body was covered with a heavy and soft duvet, only my head uncovered, my limbs weren’t hurting anymore.

I got into a sitting position, the blanket fell to my waist, I was wearing a plain nightgown with a very thick fabric, I bared my legs and I noticed that my feet were completely bandaged.

I got lucky I guess

The precariousness of my situation made me anxious, countless questions and doubts started to swarm in my mind.

Where am I?

Am I in danger?

I’m so scared 

I just want to sleep and go back to where I was

But where was I before waking up in the snow?

Why did this happen to me?

Who even am I?

I took a deep breath and I closed my eyes to clear my mind. When I gained control of my thoughts again I started to analyze the situation: for some reason I had no memories of my life, giving the circumstance I woke up in, I probably didn’t come to that forest willingly, I had no idea of where I was and there was literally nothing that gave me even a faint sense of familiarity. 

The room I was staying in was very spacious, it was square shaped, everything, from the walls to the furniture, was in shades of white and light blue. 

On my left there was a giant English style window, through the glass was reflected a raging snowstorm, other than that I could only see a never ending plain of immaculate white, beautiful and alienating at the same time.

I stood up, the bandages on my feet slightly protecting them from the cold of the marble floor, I cautiously walked towards the fireplace, the only source of warmth of the room, I crouched down by keeping a safe distance, the soft yellow and orange hues painted my face. When the heat imbued my body, I stood up to search the room. Parallel to the window there was a large fir door, on its right a full body mirror that reflected the sight of the snowstorm. I went for the door first, I lowered the handle and tried to pry the door open, but it didn’t move an inch, so I walked to the mirror and stood straight to look at my reflection. The woman in front of me was both familiar and foreign at the same time. 

I’m very pretty I have to say, a bit shabby, but I quite literally escaped death, so that’s reasonable I guess

Then I heard a light echo of footsteps, someone was walking in my direction.

Anxiety and panic rose once again, a piercing sense of chill went up to my brain passing through my spine.

My body was completely frozen on the spot, I looked like a lamb patiently waiting for the inevitable doom. The steps got closer and closer, until they stopped at once. I could feel the loom of danger even through the closed door.

The squeaking sound of keys forewent the slow opening of the light colored door.

The wolf deprived the lamb of any chance to escape

A tall man entered the room, and as soon as his foot landed on the floor, the temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees.

That was our first encounter, the image of his dreadful figure shook me to my deepest core; -even if it happened in the distant past, I still remember it like it happened yesterday. My reaction was normal though, even with my current understanding of the man I wouldn’t say that I was silly, at the time he was no different than a blood driven monster, blindly following his every whim, everything and everybody else just props to his play-

He was wearing a strange shaped mask that covered the upper half of his face, it almost looked like a beak; even if his eyes were covered, I could feel him gazing intently at every inch of my body.

-I wonder what he was thinking at the time, seeing such a proud looking lady, terrified by his dreadful appearance, but looking at him straight in the eyes nonetheless- 

He opened his mouth, a string of incomprehensible words reached my ears.

What the hell is he saying, I can’t understand a word of this language, I don’t even think I ever heard that before

I frowned in confusion and as soon as he saw my dumbfounded expression he halted his speech. His lips suddenly curved into a devious smile and he said something with a satisfied tone.

Scared by his ominous stare, I took a few steps back.

After thinking for some seconds, he took out a small object from his pants pocket, it was a metal object, shaped like a eucalyptus leaf.  

He held his hand to me, the strange object in his palm.

I was still wary of him, but both for curiosity and lack of other options (more the second) I cautiously got closer.

In his eyes I’m sure I looked ridiculous, I was completely defenseless, but I kept up a fierce and intimidating look, as if I could really scare him or react in a possible dire situation. -How amusing-

Seeing that I trusted him enough to get a little bit closer, he held out his fingers even more and out of nowhere the object began to emit a light green light, it also started to float. Is it magic that I’m seeing?

It became smaller and smaller until it was no bigger than a breadcrumb; then it moved so fast that my eyes couldn’t even perceive the movement and entered one of my ears, the tickle gave me goosebumps.

“Don’t worry it’s not harmful”

And right after he said that a head splitting headache suddenly blackened my vision.

“Not harmful?!” I said with clenched teeth and a reprimanding voice.

“It seems to work” He stated proudly.

After a few seconds the pain subsided and I looked at him with a hateful glare.

“I understand what you are saying now, and apparently I can talk your language too. What is this?”

He grinned and gave a satisfied scoff.

“It’s one of my inventions of course, it injects the information I put inside directly into your brain, quite interesting isn’t it? The headache is just a little side effect”

I wouldn’t call it “little” but nevermind, at least I can talk to him

“What is this place?” I asked and turned to the window again, the snowstorm was still raging, white snowflakes were hitting the glass, the contrast with the warm temperature of the room let them melt, but the iciness of the air outside prevailed, so the droplets of water froze once again.

“This is the country of everwinter, Snezhnaya”

I’ve never heard of this place, where the fuck did I end up?

Uneasiness enveloped my heart like thorns.

“But it's useless information for you, am I right?

Without me noticing, he got closer and with his towering height he looked down on me.

I felt so small, both physically and mentally.

“You are not from this world”

I widened my eyes, but I still kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t surprised, deep in my heart I already knew it, call it gut feeling.

“You are not the first one to come to Teyvat, we call them descenders, but usually they are powerful beings, capable of changing the fate of this world. That’s not your case though, I checked your body and you have the anatomy of a common mortal with not an ounce of strange otherworldly power”

He did what?!

“I wonder what was the trigger that made you come here”

He rubbed his chin with one hand, he inclined his head and some peculiar pendant earring popped up from his light blue wavy hair. It looked like a test tube, a fluorescent liquid rattled inside.

The man was probably a scientist of some kind.

As soon as I had this realization, countless memories flashed in my mind, causing my head to spin. 

Images of me in university attending lectures, me in a white lab coat preparing histological slides, me analyzing microorganisms with a microscope, me doing a presentation in a conference.

I seem to have gotten part of my memories back

Overwhelmed by the sudden surge of memories I put my hands on my hair and crouched a little. 

That behavior also surprised the apparently all knowing scientist, as he knitted his eyebrows.

“What’s going on young lady?”

Still shaken, I gasped.

Can I trust him? There is something deeply wrong about him, even with his eyes covered I can feel the glare of blind curiosity towards the unknown, as a scientist myself I understand what it means to have something you have never seen to study. 

So I put all my fate to his hunger for discovery .

“I lack a great part of my memories”

He looked at me a bit dumbfounded and crossed his arms.

“Right now I got some of them back”

I stood up and looked straight to where I thought his eyes were.

“What do you want to do with me?”

A snort escaped his lips, then a subdued laughter, and in the end he started to laugh uncontrollably, he looked like a complete psycho.

I’m done

As if a switch had been flipped, he stopped at once, he put his hand close to my ear and with a finger he curled a lock of hair.

“Tell me, do you remember your name?”

“I do not” I said sternly.

He hummed in thought, let go of my hair and stepped back.

“I will help you with your memories, for now, you don’t have to worry about anything else”

He turned and walked towards the door.

“Wait”

He stopped and turned slightly.

“What is your name?”

“Just call me Doctor” 

He went out and closed the door without turning back.

Really, what did I do wrong to end up here?

[sailorstar9]

F/N's Groom Called F/N's Sister's Name During The Wedding Vow, F/N Threw Bouquet And Changed The Groom To His Cousin

A/N: Please come home, Mr. Worldwide

At the wedding, F/N's fiancé tried to win Bogdana's favour by deliberately shouting her name at F/N, “ Bogdana, I love you.”

Infuriated, F/N smashed the bouquet in his face and called out to his cousin, “Ajax, I love you.”

“Do you love me?” the ginger chuckled. “F/N, how about getting engaged?”

“Alright.” F/N nodded.

After F/N's fiancé was severely beaten by his father and kicked out, the wedding turned into an engagement ceremony with the same guests.

Today was F/N's wedding with Olexa.

The MC on stage passionately asked, “At this moment, groom, what do you want to say to the bride?”

“I love you, Bogdana.” Olexa said, causing F/N to freeze; Bogdana being F/N's half-sister who just reunited with F/N's father recently.

Silence fell over the crowd.

F/N's parents and Olexa's parents all looked extremely displeased; some guests even stared in disbelief, some whispered to each other and some couldn't help but giggle.

Olexa then shouted into the microphone, “Bogdana, I love you.”

His grooms man, his cousin, Ajax, stifled a laugh behind him.

Furious, F/N viciously smashed the bouquet on Olexa's head, making him correct himself. “I shouted the wrong name. It should be F/N. I love you, F/N.”

F/N sarcastically remarked, “Bogdana, F/N, can't you tell them apart?” turning to his cousin, Ajax, she yelled, “Ajax, I love you.”

“Do you love me?” Ajax paused, then smiled. “F/N, I love you, too. Let's get engaged first.”

“Deal.” F/N gave the 'okay' gesture.

As the guests were confused by their complicated relationship, F/N's mother handed her her phone with a disapproving look and F/N saw a notification on her phone; the bed in her bridal suite was slept in by someone else. F/N checked the remote monitoring and saw Bogdana lounging in her bed in a bright red silk nightgown: the one F/N was supposed to wear on her wedding night. Then, she read the unread message, “F/N,Olexa doesn't love you. He only married you under the pressure from both families. F/N, you must feel heartbroken hearing your husband calling someone else's name at the wedding. Let me tell you; he did it on purpose, just to please me.” Bogdana probably didn't know that F/N's phone could be connected to the large screen. In retaliation, F/N changed the dynamic album with Olexa to the chat interface of her phone.

Everyone was shocked when the message was displayed and Ajax walked up to F/N. “Where did this shameless woman come from?”

Before F/N could respond, her friend, Chesna, realized it, slammed her cup on the table, shattering it. “Have you ever seen such shamelessness? Uncle, did you invite us here just to open our eyes?”

F/N's bridesmaid entourage also chimed in. “Uncle, when did you family suddenly gain another daughter? I can't stand for F/N being bullied at her wedding.”

Ajax adjusted his earring and sneered, “Bullying my fiancee? I won't stand for it either.”

Ajax's family background was either in par with F/N's or even better; coupled with the fact that he was also one of the executives of Snezhnaya Multinational, this meant that no amount of protection for Bogdana could save her.

Olexa's father had arranged a match with F/N's because Olexa was the second son and he was aiming to compete with Ajax's father. But Olexa's antics caused an immediate fight with them rushing on stage to beat him up.

“Dad, mom, I love Bogdana.” Olexa was running around with his head in his hands, shouting his true feelings.

“Get them out.” F/N's mother turned to the security guard team and Olexa's family of three were escorted out.

Ajax's father immediately took a seat of honour, beaming and giving F/N a thumbs-up.

With all of Olexa's family and F/N's family and friends present at the wedding, F/N's father was compelled to make a statement in front of everyone. “Don't get any ideas, we only have one daughter, F/N, and this imposter pretending to be F/N's sister is nowhere to be found.”

F/N's mother coldly snorted, “Birds of a feather flock together.”

Just like that, Ajax and F/N inadvertently got engaged.

After the engagement...

Bogdana, with red eyes, sat on the sofa as F/N and Ajax dealt with the defiled million-dollar mattress.

F/N's father, sat on the other side of the sofa, coughed and sighed; he couldn't even bring himself to acknowledge Bogdana was his daughter, not after all the prominent families stood behind F/N at the banquet. She was the maid's daughter.

F/N's father distanced himself from Bogdana and she couldn't hold back, “Dad...”

“Who do you think you are?” F/N's father shot her a fierce look.

F/N then added fuel to the fire, “Bogdana, feeling provoked? Your own dad won't even admit you.”

“Aren't you the maid's daughter?” F/N's mother remarked coldly, coming down from the stairs. “Your shameful actions today have brought disgrace to our family. Do you even realize how much the company will lose tomorrow?”

“I am sorry, Auntie.” Bogdana sniffled. “I was wrong. I've never slept in such a comfortable bed before or worn such exquisite pyjamas. I just got carried away and wanted to experience it for once. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have envied everything my sister has. I shouldn't have felt so resentful and unfair about why she has things that I don't have.”

While Bogdana seemed to be explaining to F/N's mother, her eyes were fixed on Ajax. She walked over to Ajax, tugging at his sleeve and shaking it. “Ajax, don't you understand me yet? It's you I'm interested in, not Olexa.”

Ajax abruptly shook his sleeve. “Who are you? Are we that close?” he took off his coat and handed it to the maid. “It's dirty. Burn it. F/N, your mattress is dirty, too. Burn it along with the coat. I'll have a custom made one worth tens of millions for you.”

F/N chuckled, “One with 24k gold trimmings.”

“Diamond trimmings are also fine.” Ajax said, pulling F/N against him.

F/N suspected Ajax was intentionally provoking Bogdana because her eyes were full of resentment as she looked at F/N.

F/N's mother then turned to her husband, demanding that Bogdana and her mother be kicked out or she would divorce him.

F/N's father conceded as he couldn't bear the thought of divorce.

Three days later, both Bogdana and her mother left the mansion.

Before leaving, Bogdana stood at the gates with her luggage, her eyes full of venomous hatred. “F/N, I hate you. Why do you get to have what I can't? Those things that should've been mine. Why do you get to live proudly in the sunlight while I am left scrounging like a rat in the sewer? F/N, just you wait. I'll take everything that belongs to you.”

A few days later...

It had barely been a week since Bogdana and her mother were exiled from the house when Bogdana,using a sob story involving traffic car accidents, demanded F/N's father transfer a powdered milk company to her name. She even brazenly called out right in front of F/N's mother, “Dad, how much longer are you going to hide me? I am your daughter; yours and mom's daughter.”

F/N had to watch her mother's face turn pale; with trembling lips and a bitter, ironic smile, the older woman clutched her fists and said quietly, “Give it to her.” however, she also added a stipulation that the company is to be set up separately without the production line.

Bogdana then moved into the guest room, all the while watching Ajax direct workers to remove the mattresses from the backyard, cutting them into shreds with an electric saw. “F/N...” she turned, only to have F/N grab her collar and give her two sharp slaps in a row; one for being shameless and stealing someone else's husband, two for being a disgrace and sleeping on someone else's mattress.

Ajax, surprised to hear the crisp sound of flesh hitting flesh, turned to F/N and gave her a thumbs-up as she stood there, holding Bogdana's head by her hair and pressing it down. F/N sneered, “Bogdana, were you still referring to those days that belong to you living like dirty rat in the sewer? Or are you are claiming back a scumbag who left his ex to climb the social ladder and then cheated on her with a woman who intervened in others' marriages for over 20 years?”

“F/N.” F/N's father stepped out.

F/N smirked at him oddly, “What, Dad? Feeling sorry? Finally regretting? And now you feel sorry? Will you faint every time you feel sorry?” she let go of Bogdana.

Finally standing up, Bogdana adjusted her hair, her eyes filled with a hatred that seemed ready to swallow F/N up. She held back her anger, bit her lip just right and tears welled up in her eyes, “Dad, I know I was wrong to sleep on F/N's mattress, but I didn't mean to provoke Olexa. He insisted on showing his affection. Dad, am I not your child, too? Isn't F/N being too harsh? My mom just went to heaven a week ago.”

Just as F/N's father was about to scold her, Ajax walked over, frowning, “F/N, that's not like you. How could you hit someone? Remember to call me if you need to hit someone. I'll do it for you. And if you dare to provoke my fiancee, I won't hesitate to break the norm and hit a woman.” with an icy and fierce look, he stared at Bogdana.

A week later...

The mattress took an entire week to completely burn, leaving Bogdana so frustrated that she ended up demanding a villa and moved out on her own.

One week later, F/N returned home from work to find the house decorated with various coloured rose petals scattered all over the floor and colourful balloons were floating on the ceiling. Ajax walked over the petals and knelt down on one knee. “Marry me? Let's go register tomorrow.”

During the following week, Ajax picked F/N up from work every day and took her out to different seafood restaurants.

“How about giving you a month to observe closely?” Ajax suggested, noting F/N's hesitation and handed her the ring box.

F/N's mother made the decision for her daughter and put the ring box into her pocket, “Mother thinks Ajax is more reliable than Olexa.”

That night, F/N's mother packed up F/N's belongings and forcibly kicked her out of the house so that she could move into her company's dormitory.

The next day...

Ajax showed up at the company.

F/N's mother smiled, “Let me introduce you; this is our company's Vice President, Ajax. All financial and personnel decisions will be handed over to him.”

A month went by and F/N's mother was very pleased with this prospective son-in-law who had been a lot more attentive and doting on F/N than Olexa ever was. Therefore, right after the one month probation, Ajax and F/N secretly went to register their marriage and F/N moved out of the company dormitory and into Ajax's studio apartment.

Two months later...

F/N's mother and Ajax held the company's annual meeting and invited various media to publicize the event.

Just as F/N was about to take a gulp of her beer in an alfresco bar, Bogdana suddenly appeared within her eyeline and took a seat opposite her step-sister.

“F/N, do you know why I'm here today?”Bogdana's makeup was meticulously done with shiny rhinestones on her eyelids.

F/N just looked at her smug expression and replied calmly, “I have no idea.”

Bogdana held her head high like a victorious rooster, “Ajax invited me here. He said that he doesn't actually like you at all. He only married you for the sake of Snezhnaya Multinational. The person he likes is me.”

F/N's answer was cut off by someone exclaiming, “Breaking news!”

Everyone turned to see the big screen to see Ajax take the stage, talking about the next year's development plans.

With a calm smile, F/N opened the hot search app and was not surprised to find that three out of the top 10 spots were dominated by Ajax. A comment had also caught the netizens' attention: the previous subsidiary of F/N's company was taken over by Bogdana. They say this Bogdana might be F/N's father's illegitimate daughter. Would F/N's mother actually agree to let the illegitimate daughter take over the subsidiary?

Seizing the moment while the netizens were actively discussing, F/N posted a marriage certificate online. Turning to Bogdana, she sighed, “Ajax has always been pure and has never been involved with other women.”

Several of the bar's customers recognized Bogdana. “Is this woman crazy? Why is she fixated on F/N's man?”

Bogdana clearly noticed her newfound infamy as she heard the curses from the other customers and her face turned extremely unsightly, “F/N, you're truly cunning.”

F/N smiled and replied. “Bogdana, didn't I learn all of this from you? How can you blame me for how things turned out like this?”

Bogdana lunged at F/N to slap her, but F/N firmly held her wrist.

A customer captured the moment when Bogdana tried to hit F/N on video

That night...

F/N returned home and wrote down a vivid account on how Bogdana, the maid's daughter, instigated her father into beating her when they were still students.

The next day...

F/N woke up in the afternoon, Ajax was preparing seafood soup for lunch. “F/N, I've taken a leave for you. You don't have to go for the next few days.” he covered the stock pot with the lid.

That night, another big news broke out; the infant formula company with Bogdana as the legal representative, was in trouble. Expired milk powder was rebranded with new production dates to be put back on the shelves and enraged parents gathered in front of Bogdana's villa with banners to protest.

It took only three days for Bogdana to go mad and hospital staff from the psychiatric hospital sent her into the medical facility, kicking and screaming.

Ajax had also given the evidence of Olexa's and his uncle's false accounts to the police and leading to them getting arrested.

[emiixuu]

blossoming devotion

a prologue to ‘the cat puppet and bunny doll’ series

💌 pairing :: harbinger!scaramouche x doll!reader

🌌 content warning :: unhealthy & developing relationship and characters, reader being referred to as ‘it’, “cannibalism” but not really since it’s just body fluid?, toxicity

📝 synopsis :: In which, you are Dottore’s creation and his thoughtful gift to Scaramouche

✒️ word count :: 3,909

🐰 author’s note :: wrote mainly to set up a lore or something eh

Fixing up your hair, the unhinged scientist gives you a smile devoid of any real warmth. He was making last touches here and there. He was quite pleased with his work. Years of studying Scaramouche has given him a great knowledge of Khaenri'ah's ancient technology.

Scaramouche was great, and all. A great experiment of his and now, he was eager to create his own ‘Scaramouche’. He had to move forward, after all. Science needs progress and you shall be it.

You’ve spent a few days with the doctor already. He was odd, but you didn’t mind. You were only observing the world around you for the first time. Dottore was the first person you have met. As far as you are concerned, he was normal. One thing you learned about him is that he loves the sound of his own voice.

He has given you a general knowledge; writing, reading, etcetera. He made sure you came with all that already. In his eyes, you will be an even more of an impressive experiment than the sixth was. He was sure of that.

You were staring at Dottore, your only focus on your creator as he was finally done with the final completion. He stepped back to analyze any mistakes in his project.

Suddenly, a sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted the both of you. Dottore didn’t seem as startled as you were.

“Why did you call me here?” The voice spoke, low and aloof, somewhat annoyed, too. He didn’t want to be here, spending time with Dottore was the last thing he wanted.

Despite his voice sharply cutting the previous peaceful atmosphere in the room, your heart thumped a little, or something akin to a heart that the doctor gave you.

Dottore smirks faintly, turning his gaze towards the person that voice belongs to, “oh, if it isn’t Scaramouche? Thank you for joining us! I wanted to show you my newest achievement you have helped me with.”

“Help you? What nonsense are you talking about again-“ the voice stops abruptly as he sees you, having not noticed you before. His eyes oscillated up and down, seemingly scanning your whole being.

You could finally get a better look at him too as Dottore moved out of the way. Another flutter hits your chest. The person in front of you was a mesmerizing beauty, sticking to your consciousness with ease. Your breath was taken away as he dissected you with his indigo eyes. Elegant and charming, fairest face you have ever seen, even if you barely seen any other. You couldn’t take your eyes away for not even a single moment.

Noticing the way you were looking at him, his expression changed from mild curiosity to confusion.

“What are you looking at?” He questions, raising an eyebrow, slightly irritated by your obtrusive staring. He wasn’t very patient.

Before you could reply, Dottore butts in, “Forgive its behaviour. You are the first other being here, except for me.”

The beautiful man, who could even be a prince, in your educated opinion, lets out a simple huff. He was seemingly satisfied with the doctor’s answer and didn’t need to pry into the matter, or didn’t really want to. After a second, he realizes what Dottore just said.

“Wait, first?” He asks, looking at Dottore with something akin to a slight interest.

“Yes! This, dear Scaramouche, is a puppet I have created with the same technology you were created with.” He replies cheerfully, clearly this was all a blast to him.

Scaramouche seems momentarily surprised, looking at you and then again at the doctor.

“Oh? You want to replace me?” He laughs, the sound of it ringing in your ears. He seemed amused by that thought. An absurd plan would that be.

“Not at all. I couldn’t replicate you, it could never be you.” He shook his head in disapproval.

“Didn’t know you liked me that much.” He snickers mockingly.

“You misunderstand. You are useful just the way you are. It would be too difficult to make a fully identical copy of you.” He explains, a bit displeased at Scaramouche for being sarcastic with him when they were discussing his important work right now. He was never a fan of his sharp tongue.

Scaramouche just rolled his eyes at his response. The time he has spent here so far was truly a pain. Getting impatient, he asks, “well, what’s it for?”

At the same time, he was at least a bit curious about you.

The doctor came to stand behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders, sighing.

“Unfortunately, this little thing? Useless.” He spoke dramatically as if it was a horrible tragedy, letting go of you and pushing you into the front of where Scaramouche stood. The action made you stumble before him. Scaramouche did not move an inch, nor tried to stabilize you.

Dottore walks closer, standing now on the side between the two of you. His voice changes back into monotone, “it is just a prototype. I had to try it first before putting my all into it, you know?”

You shift your gaze back at the doctor, shocked to hear his words. Useless? That was not what he said before. Your throat started to feel tight, eyes darting from one Harbinger to the other. Your eyes were slightly pricking as tears were threatening to fall, you didn’t understand this feeling. But you held it back, not daring to show a single emotion as you were scared to even draw attention to yourself at this moment.

“I mean, useless to me. Perhaps you could find some use for it. It would be too bad to entirely scrap it and throw it away, no?” His words were laced with mocking sympathy. He didn’t look at you anymore, concentrating his eyes on the sixth as he was interested in his reaction. You were, too.

“Tch, how careless of you to waste time and material on this then,” Scaramouche looks away from the both of you, “what use would it be to me?”

You stare at him, pitifully against your own control. You couldn’t help but plead with him with your eyes. From the moment you saw him, you felt something special about him. You couldn’t really explain it, neither did you know what it was, or why. You couldn’t let him go, couldn’t let him let you go, a strangely swift admiration flourishing within you. But you didn’t know any better.

“Hm, I don’t know? Whatever you’d like, I don’t really care. Take it as a humble gift from me.” the doctor says, smiling at him. Once again, his smile did not have any friendliness in it. He was awful at appearing kind, or perhaps, he wasn’t even trying.

“Look at it, how sad it looks!” Dottore mocks, “it’s quite literally begging you to take it.”

“Shut up.” Scaramouche clicked his tongue, bemused by the doctor.

He was offering him a gift, a non-refusable one. There were no strings attached. Still, it was a gift from Dottore, which itself sounded like a risk to take. If he didn’t take you, what would happen to you? However, why should he care? You would be just another problem on his back, he didn’t really need that.

Even so, the pitifully pathetic expression you were making forced a buried part of him out of the abyss of his memories he has forsaken, burning unpleasantly on the tip of his tongue. A part he had hidden away so thoroughly, he was sure it was gone. He was over and above these emotions. How could you, an insignificant bug beneath his foot, do that? An insignificant reminder of his past, despite not wanting to see it that way. Created and thrown away like nothing? Too ironic for his taste.

Was this a joke on him? No, why would it be? It was just the way of the world laughing in his face but he won’t let it. He denounced the world a long time ago. It did not matter to him, he was not going to give this any more thought. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing to him.

So if it’s nothing, why refuse?

“Alright, I can find some use for it.” He replies nonchalantly, acting like he was doing charity work for the doctor. You could be perhaps useful to him. Who knows? You were a puppet like him after all, assuming you are indestructible as him, you could come in handy in battle. Maybe you would end up more competent than his worthless subordinates.

He wouldn’t admit it was because he felt a small bit of pity for you, not even to himself. In any way, his thought of reason was not a lie to cover up his emotional part. He meant it, you could be of use to him.

“Perfect!” Dottore claps his hands together, satisfied that he has accepted his ‘gift’.

There was a moment of silence, the three of you just exchanging almost awkward looks. Nothing more to be said, Scaramouche seemed ready to leave. For some reason, he could not stand being in the presence of Dottore for long periods, and despite not much time has passed since he came here, he had enough of him. Too bad for him that Dottore was his colleague.

“Ah,” the doctor jumps up, remembering something he forgot to add, “before I will let you take it, I shall do a few small adjustments. In - hm - .. two days, it’s entirely yours.”

“Fine, I guess, send it through someone to my place. I’m not going to bother showing up here just to come pick it up.” He simply says, fixing his hat and turning around, leaving the room without uttering anything else. He was pretty straight-forward.

“The audacity of him.” Dottore spoke, clearly he wasn’t pleased with that, “he still didn’t learn his place it seems.”

Even with the lack of respect from the sixth, Dottore still appeared calm, “it’s fine. Let him fall onto his mouth on his own.”

Sitting on the cold floor, you look up at him. Your chin was resting on his knees. How did you get yourself in this position? Simple, he allowed you to sit near him but the only close seat to him was.. well, the floor. There were not many chairs at his place.

Putting your chin onto his knees stunned him though. You were getting bold, yet you didn’t see anything unnatural about your action. So he let it slide.

He awkwardly raises his hand, patting your head hesitantly. He was not used to showing affection. But he thought you might be deserving of it. He found your persistent clinginess adorable. Your behaviour towards him compelled him to give you a little care. After what you did for him.

It has been days since one of the doctor’s goons took you to him. During those days, you have managed to injure yourself already.

On an expedition in a land that was unknown to you, you didn’t ask for the details of your work here. You were following behind him as his other subordinates were. You kept your distance, not wanting to upset Scaramouche.

Before the expedition, he expressed distaste in the way you kept smothering him with your presence.

“Breathe in my way once more and I will leave you behind in some dark forest. We shall see if you remember my scent enough to find your way back.”

Honestly, his words gave your spine a chill. He was clearly sarcastic and not actually expecting that you would be able to find your way back to him by a scent, but with the way you were always near him made him think you might already remember his scent well and would even be capable of that. Getting lost in a dark forest though? With no idea how to get back and fetch for yourself? Terrified of his threat, you decided to ignore your nagging urge to be around him. Following him from afar was enough.

You carried out the task he has given you with a better ability than the others, causing them to give you silent dirty looks. Because how dare you appear out of nowhere and be the best out of his team already? Nevertheless, it was not surprising to you nor him that you were doing well. You were not like them, after all. You didn’t see them as a competition, such things were meaningless to you. The only thing important was that he would be pleased.

You were even given a weapon, an electrogun. You didn’t notice anyone else having that, most of the Fatui had either cryogun or hydrogun, or other weapons. Which was perhaps another reason why you were getting dirty looks. Special treatment on the first day? Unbelievable! You definitely won’t be liked amongst your peers.

After hours and hours, most of his minions were getting exhausted, from endless walking and fighting. He has over-worked them enough. Working under the sixth was not pleasant, one wrong word and one might get a slap in their face. So none of them would dare to ask for a break. But a new addition?

“Hey, you,” one of your Fatui peers gently pushes into you, eliciting a gasp of surprise from you. She smirks at your reaction a little, she whispers into your ears with a giggle, “are you not tired? Ask him if we can get a break. I’m a little shy and he’ll be nice to you since it’s your first time.”

What seemed like an innocent request was actually a trap. They were all too scared to ask for something so simple. And you, the new fresh meat in their squad, would not know the consequences yet. Serves you right for ‘parading here like you were something better’ in their belief.

“My Lord!” You spoke up, your voice trembling a little, you were still shaken from your last conversation with Scaramouche. He stops and looks at you, raising his eyebrow of what could you of all the people here want from him, “Could we take a break? She is too tired to go on anymore.”

You point out to the woman, who was now dumbstruck, not thinking you would throw her under the bus like that. She should have thought twice. However, that was not your intention, you were only saying that out of the goodness of your heart because you cared and were concerned about the health of your colleagues. Being kind to them like this will definitely make you likable, right?

Scaramouche glares at the woman, displeased at the fact she was complaining about her exhaustion. Perhaps, messing with the fresh meat was not the greatest idea. She was ready to get yelled at, but no scolding came.

He sighs, watching them. He decides to not push them any more and gives out his next orders, “fine. We will take a break here. Build tents and go get some sleep before tomorrow.”

Surprised at the way he actually agreed to the request, they didn’t need to be told twice as they started to scurry off. You didn’t move, standing behind him. He didn’t pay you attention any more, not turning around to tell you off, just observing his underlings, making sure they weren’t doing anything stupid.

You didn’t dare to talk to him either, nor get near him again. Just watching him. His focus on whatever is behind him is none, unconcerned. A bush rustling close, your eyes darting to the sound. The leaves shuffled slightly, you held your breath, not taking your gaze away from it. Perhaps it was just the wind? But you had to be sure. You step in a little closer to the bush, wanting to inspect it.

Before you could come any closer, an armed hilichurl peeks out of the bush. No one else noticed it. Your hand reaches for the electrogun but your reaction wasn’t fast enough as the hilichurl shoots before you do. A flying arrow, slicing the air as it hurls right towards Scaramouche, ignoring you entirely. Time seemed to stand still, agile on your feet, you moved hastily not thinking twice.

It all transpired so quickly. You feel sharp pain in your stomach, whimpering quietly. He turned around even before the arrow had reached you as he was ready to flick it off easily, eyes widening, not expecting you to throw yourself in front of him. He is looking away from you for a split of a moment and you are already acting ill-conceived?

A liquid akin to a blood oozing from your fragile body. It wasn't real blood, just something to mess with his senses. You wouldn’t die.

He caught you with ease before you could fall, holding your limp body close to him. How could you be so foolish? A simple hilichurl wouldn’t do anything to him. Not to mention, he had quick reflexes. He was always on alert. Yet, he couldn’t predict your action.

He looks at your wound, the red liquid staining his clothes. There is a brief hesitance from him for a moment as if thinking about something. Something forbidden.

His hand moves to the place of your wound, touch lingering around it carefully. You flinch at his invasive touch to your now sensitive and injured area. You try to push him off, not thinking straight. Oh, suddenly you wanted space? As if. He didn’t let you move an inch away from him, holding you tightly, even pulling you closer.

“Don’t move.” His voice was firm, he wasn’t taking a ‘no’ or any other form of defiance for an answer.

As you finally cease your squirming, he softens into a look of curiosity. He scoops the liquid that was leaking out of you on his finger to study it, interested in your nature. It was bright red, glistening and tantalizing, enticing an improper desire on him. As if it was a spilled fine wine, waiting to be savoured. Almost inviting him.

A normal reaction would be trying to stop your bleeding but in truth you were not in any danger. He can worry about getting you repaired later. He licks his finger, tasting your ‘blood’, “sweet.”

The word he has spoken, just below the whisper. You almost wouldn’t catch it if you weren’t in a close proximity, right in his hands. He neither grimaces at the taste nor smiles, he just wears an intensely alluring expression, with only a subtle hint of the corner of his lips moving, his eyes unreadable to you.

His actions shocked his lackeys, staring at the scene in front of them. They were frozen and rather not intervening in whatever peculiarity did Scaramouche get into. No one wanted to cross him.

“S-Sorry,” you winced as you spoke, noticing the way you smeared his clothes.

“For what?” He asks, his voice still quiet. He was not sure what you were apologizing for. For the fact your ‘blood’ was revoltingly sugary to his tastes? You should, perhaps.

“For ruining your clothes.” You reply simply, slipping in and out of consciousness, your vision blurry.

With a puzzled expression on his face, he laughs sardonically. Were you really worried over something so minor? As if your ‘blood’ was a filth on his clothes? How sweet of you, just like your insides.

You try to speak again but he shushes you softly, caressing your cheek, smudging your own blood on your face, “shh, don’t waste your energy.”

His voice was almost soothing, a cozy lullaby accompanying you to sleep. The last thing you see before your eyes become too heavy are just fleeting images of him.

Few days have passed since that occurrence. And now you were here, sitting on the floor in front of him, snuggly resting your head on his knees. Safe and sound under his fingertips.

“Hm, you might have not been made for battle,” he says thoughtfully, “did you really think one little arrow could harm me?” He muses, seemingly finding your act of putting yourself in danger to ‘save’ him, endearingly ludicrous. It would be nothing but a scratch to him. But you are weaker, perhaps the doctor wasn’t as good as he liked to boast about. At least he fixed you up right away when he took you to him.

You didn’t reply to his question, feeling a little silly under his gaze as your heroic act was reduced to being stupid. You weren’t even trying to be a ‘hero’, you just didn’t want him to get hurt. That was your job essentially, right?

Yet, it was what got you his praise. Patting you on the head gently as if you were a pet that has performed its trick correctly. With the position you were in, you might even be one.

Despite his touch being gentle, his face was twisted into a mocking amusement. You lean into his touch instinctively, nuzzling into his knees, too, your intentions pure. Enjoying the moment between the two of you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. His hands in your hair felt ethereal.

“Are you a God?” You ask, quietly, innocence oozing from your question. A dreamy look on your face, it couldn’t be more crystal clear you held him high in your mind. You could at least try to act nonchalant. Still, he couldn’t expect much from you.

He chuckles at your question, not taking you seriously, “what makes you say that?”

“By the definition of divine, I think you are one,” you mumble, pausing for a moment to think about your words before continuing, “heavenly, graceful, powerful. You radiate so brightly, like the delicate moon in the sky. Even in the darkest of nights, your magnificence could show the way to the lost. If not a God, then an angel?”

Where did you get all this knowledge from? He was perplexed by your words. Did the doctor meddle with your mind? No, what would that achieve? He shook off those thoughts.

“You think I am delicate?” He asks mirthfully, “the only delicate thing in this room is you.”

He sighs as if it was a chore for him to speak to you, yet he smirks, “But yes, to answer your question, I could be a God.”

You gasp in awe, taking his words entirely serious, eyes sparkling in admiration. But it’s not like he was messing with you. He had great plans for his Godhood, he will achieve those.

His hands travel to the rest of your body, dragging his fingers from your head, to shoulders, to your arms. He tugs your arm up to him. Beneath his slender fingers your skin fluttered, he traced the lines of your puppet joints, slowly and carefully scrutinizing, immersed in how it feels to touch them. His joints disappeared a long time ago. The corner of his lips slightly raises.

You were the embodiment of how he used to be.

And if one with a seething self-hatred had themselves served on a silver platter, what would they do?

Forgive him for indulging himself, but he shall have you in the most unadulterated way. Swallow you whole before anyone else could. Softly, undeserving of the harsh reality.

“My Lord-” your voice was shaky, clearly you were a little sensitive to touch.

“You can call me Kunikuzushi, dear.”

Please, please, dear God, let our bond be pure and thrive into eternity.