#scaramouche x oc

[ventismacchiato]

21 stuck with you — stuck with you !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

18+ warning: mini smut scene at the end of the second written portion, scara gives head. only one version, view it as 🍑 or 🐱…yk the drill. feel free to skip it, it takes place after scara paints ur nails.

The peace doesn’t last long.

One second, you’re sitting in the dorm’s living room, trying to process everything, and the next, the door slams open with a force that rattles the walls.

“Did you two fuck?”

“WHY DID YOU TURN YOUR MIC OFF?”

“I have money on this, please tell me—”

You sink deeper into your seat as your overbearing members pile in, voices overlapping. Across from you, Scaramouche exhales sharply, already bracing himself for whatever fresh hell this is about to be.

Then Yae walks in.

He moves instantly, slipping off the couch and crouching behind it like that’ll save him. It doesn’t. Yae doesn’t even hesitate before she strides over, grabs him by the collar, and hauls him up with practiced ease.

"Really?" she scoffs. "Turning your mic off? Are you trying to give me an aneurysm?"

Scaramouche rolls his eyes, tugging at her grip. "Oh no, the horror. They missed a few minutes of me."

"Nonetheless," she says, letting him go with a shove, "We can use this. Now that you two aren’t at each other’s throats, it’s time to sell it.” She claps her hands together, all business. “We’re sending you both to paradise."

You blink. "What?"

"But we have to pretend you won a raffle," she adds.

Scaramouche barely gets a chance to react before a crew member is shoving a bowl into his hands.

“Pretend you won!” Yae orders.

He stares down at it like it personally offends him before reaching in and pulling out a slip of paper. In the flattest voice imaginable, he says, "Wow. I won."

Yae narrows her eyes. "More oomph."

He sighs, then tries again. "Wow, I won!”

"More."

"...Yay?"

She nods approvingly. "Better. You’re both leaving today."

You should probably be more concerned about how easily they’re shipping you off somewhere, but honestly? You don’t mind. More alone time sounds nice. Being alone with him sounds nice. 

Yae turns to the crew, already barking out directions, and in the commotion, you catch movement from the corner of your eye.

Scaramouche sneaks off toward Jean, his voice low but just loud enough for you to hear. "Are we taking a boat?"

"Yeah, don’t worry," Jean replies.

You turn away before he can see your face.

He knows. He knows you hate flying. And even though he’ll never say it out loud, he’s making sure that’s not an issue.

Your fingers tighten against your knee. 

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu wash over you as you stepped back into the room. It was the same one you’d stayed in last time you were in Paradise. But the knot in your stomach felt different now, less anxiety, more anticipation.

“We should go to the hot tub again,” you muse, gazing out at the balcony. It looks far more inviting now that you and Scara aren’t at each other’s throats. Not in the way you were now at least.

You hear him before you feel him, his voice a low murmur in your ear as he steps up behind you.

“There’s a jacuzzi in the bathroom.”

“Isn’t the one outside nicer?”

“No cameras in the bathroom,” he says simply, tapping your waist before walking off. It takes you a minute to register before you’re tailing behind him.

୨���✧

Steam clung to your skin as you stepped out of the tub, warmth still lingering in your muscles. The air outside felt cooler in contrast, a shiver running down your spine as you absently wrung water from your hair. Scara was already standing by the counter, running his hands through his hair, towel draped over his shoulder, his damp bangs sticking to his forehead. Nothing had happened in the jacuzzi, you’d both kissed a little, but for the most part you just talked. And somehow that felt a lot more intimate than when his hands had roamed your body last night.

Without a word, he gestured for you to sit in front of him. You hesitated. The silence between you was different now. Not strained, not laced with hostility, just quiet. Steady.

Still, you sat, propping yourself up on the counter in front of him. 

The towel was rough at first, dragging over your scalp as he worked through your soaked strands. But then his touch softened, fingers threading through, combing carefully, like he had all the time in the world. 

Your eyes were at level with his chest, which you were thankful for, because you could feel yourself getting flushed. You swallowed, your heart thudding louder than it had last night. This was more intimate than anything. More than the planned glances and the staged kisses for the cameras, more than the heat of his body pressed against yours in the water.

His hands lingered, fingertips brushing over the nape of your neck, tracing the damp curve of your ear as he tucked a stray piece of hair away. Your fingers fumbled idly with a bottle of nail polish left on the counter, rolling it between your hands as he worked through your hair. 

“You’re bad at this,” you murmured, half to break the tension, half because it was true. His movements were careful, almost hesitant, but nowhere near skilled.

A soft scoff left him. “I’ve never done this for someone before.”

You turned slightly, just enough to catch his expression, something unreadable flickering across his face before he glanced away.

Somehow, that made your stomach twist even more.

“Maybe you’re more of a manicure guy, then,” you murmur, your thumb tracing the ridges of the nail polish cap, an absentminded hum escaping you. 

His hands stilled for a beat before he plucked the bottle from your grip, inspecting the color. “Want me to paint them?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”

“I used to paint Fischl’s all the time when we MCed together,” he answers idly, like this isn’t something you should’ve already known. 

That made you pause.

You knew a lot of things about Scara. The annoying way he held himself in interviews, answering every question like a PR team’s dream. The sharpness of his words when he was irritated, and the lack of it when he was only pretending to be annoyed. Or how he could sell a love song like he meant every lyric when you knew he didn’t. Hell, you even knew his allergies, like how he couldn’t eat shellfish without breaking out in hives or how certain flowers made his eyes itch (which you used to your advantage, spending money on bouquets back when you were rivals to see him red faced the next day).

But this? This was something so miniscule. Something unpolished. A detail from a life you hadn’t been part of.

You snap out of your daze to see Scara testing out the color on his own nails, giving it a lazy swirl before glancing at you, expectant. “Well?”

You roll your eyes before wordlessly setting your hand on the counter. He takes it, his grip surprisingly gentle as he steadies your fingers. You found yourself watching his face instead of his work. His brows were knit together, his lips pressing into a thing line. It was cute. He was cute. 

“You’re really taking this seriously,” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped every time his thumb smoothed over your knuckles.

“Obviously. I’m not gonna do a shitty job.”

It was so casual, so simple, but something about it made your chest feel tight.

You swallowed, watching as he moved on to the next nail, his hands steady, familiar with the motion. It made you wonder how many times he’d done this for Fischl, how many little things like this he’d done for people you’d never even thought to ask about. 

You didn’t know enough about him. Not really. And for the first time, that realization bothered you.

The words slipped out before you could think. “What else did you do while MCing?”

It was an odd question for the moment, but he didn’t tease you about it. It was a different side of Scara you’ve never seen before, one reserved just for you.

Instead, he flicked a glance at you, “What do you wanna know?

“Everything.”

He chuckled, the sound curling around your ribs like a hook dragging you closer.

“Sure,” he says. And he does.

You learn about the time he did an entire show high off weed. Or the time he presented the award to the wrong group. Or how he forgot his mic was on and cussed out another idol backstage. And how he made a joke about a group disbanding, not realizing they actually were. 

By the time he was done painting your nails you felt your heart tighten. 

You looked down at them, admiring his work when he took your hands and placed them beside you before leaning in without warning. Your nails were still wet, so you couldn’t pull him in, but that wasn’t a problem with Scara. 

His fingers pressed into your jaw as he slid in between your legs, guiding you to wrap them around his waist as he pressed you back into the mirror while you were still on the counter. His lips are on yours and you let yourself melt into him. His fingers tease their way underneath your shirt, kneading into your skin. You wanted to touch him, and he knew that, with the way his lips twitched into a smirk as you instinctively whined into him. 

His hands fall to your waist, guiding them up to grind into him. You can’t help but arch and gasp at the touch, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours before sucking lightly at it. 

Perhaps he had ulterior motives for painting your nails, because you could do nothing but sit and take it as his hands and lips explored you. 

18+ warning

The hand on your waist falls away as his lips fall to your jaw. You’d just gotten dressed, but he was already undoing the first few buttons of your top, his lips trailing your collarbone. You can’t help the soft moans slipping through your mouth. With each one escaping your lips he continues to tease and you can feel yourself growing needy, mindlessly grinding up on him. 

His hand slips down towards your pants, swiftly undoing them and lifting you up to slide them down. Your bare skin felt cold on the counter, but hot everywhere else. You were now on display for him.

“Didn’t wear any underwear, hm?” he murmurs into your ear, his fingers tracing your inner thigh. 

“Shut up,” you huff, trying not to think about how good it would feel for his fingers to be inside you once again. You were practically gripping the counter at his mere touch.

“Relax,” he says, how voice low as he falls back. Just as you start to miss his touch he lowers himself to his knees. 

“Scoot up for me,” he says.

“Wait, my nails aren’t dry yet,” you start as Scara tugs you towards him. He hooks your legs over his shoulders until your entrance is facing him.

“Try not to ruin my hard work up there while I’m down here then,” he replies.

His grip on your thighs tighten before his lips are teasing your hole. Your head falls back, a string of gasps leaving your mouth as his lips explore you. He was slow, licking at your entrance and pressing his face into you. And just as you got used to that he was teasing his way in. You buck your hips up on instinct, but he smirks against you as he holds your thighs down. With your hands out of commission you can’t do anything but take it.

You begin to feel flushed and look away from him, embarrassed from how aroused you were getting from a few licks. 

He removes himself from your entrance to dart his hand up to grab your chin, tilting your head down.

“If you look away I’m gonna stop, you don’t want that right?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Good,” he murmurs, going back down. 

He begins to alternate between sucking and quick flicks of his tongue, leaving your mind blank of anything except for him. You wanted to grab onto him so badly. He finds your spot easily, hitting it without remorse as you let out incoherent moans. He loosened his grip on your thighs, letting you grind into him as his tongue thrusted in and out of you.

“Mhm, Scara I’m gonna,” you gasp, your eyes glazed as he relentlessly kept going.

“Come for me,” he murmurs. 

The orgasm hits you and you ride it out. He pulls back and lets you finish on his face, his lips dripping with your cum. The sight only makes you want him more. 

“Scara…,” you start, but you don’t finish your sentence before his lips are already on yours, and then trailing towards your ear.

“Should we go back into the tub?” he asks, his breath warm against your ear and his bulge up against your sex.

The night is a blur after that.

[00:00:00] HOT TUB ROUND TWO SCARA

YAE: I thought we talked about this. I want to see and hear EVERYTHING.

SCARAMOUCHE: Even me taking a shit?

YAE: If it means I get everything else that happens in the bathroom then yes.

SCARAMOUCHE: You have a real problem.

YAE: I WILL GET MY SEX TAPE IF SO GOD HELP ME—

JEAN: Let’s…let’s take five.

[00:12:23] HOT TUB ROUND TWO YN

YAE: So. You and Scara aren’t pretending anymore?

YOU: No…

YAE: And how did we get here? Off camera, I’m so curious.

LISA: We also have money on this.

YOU: I honestly don’t know. I think it’s just always been there inside me.

YAE: It? As in?

YOU: My feelings for him. 

YAE: Very thin line between hate and obsession.

YOU: Hey, I didn’t say I was obsessed…

YAE: Hmm. Sure. 

YAE: Now, what exactly happened in the bathroom? If I show you pictures will you tell me if I’m hot or cold?

YOU: What–

YAE: [Pulls out photos] Does this spark any memories?

YOU: Oh my god is that fanart

JEAN: CUT! CUT!

LISA: Wait send that to me

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

wow title of the au omggggg also i ate that reddit edit UP

i hope the mini smut was gn, i tried to make it seem like u finish on his face…so if it’s masc he kinda leans back yk…yall get what i’m saying??? pleek

also chat is anyone else chronically online do we get the morning routine joke or is this too niche gulps

me asking my stoner friends for pics of their vapes for this au 😊

pls lmk if u enjoyed i need motivation juseyo

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — wow update and u didn’t have to wait a month? who am i? i’m gonna be so busy this month tho guys pray for me 😂

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @webbywill @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

[niiine]

Character(s). Xiao, Kazuha, Scaramouche

Random drabbles from random songs on my playlist.

Xiao (Double take by Dhruv)

“Are you alright?” The gentleness in his voice snapped you out of your meltdown, the sound calming your anxious heartbeat. How he had this kind of effect on you? You’re not sure.

The yaksha lead you up on high ground, not high enough to trigger your fear but just enough for you to be able to see the lanterns that was decorating the night sky. The soft, golden glow reminding you of Xiao’s eyes— a flash back of earlier events find its way onto your head.

The sea of people in the port, how agitating it was, your anxiety burning your heart, your thoughts come running down to one action. Call Xiao.

You know it’s selfish to call for him as you are aware of his duties, that he may be resting or such, but your lips whispered his name even before you can comprehend the reasons why you shouldn’t.

“y/n. Are you alright?” It took him not a minute to reach where you are. Tapping your shoulder and looking into your eyes. You shook your head and now, here you are. Under the stunning lanterns that offers tranquility.

“Xiao?” You called out his name again, and he let out a tender “hmm?”

You turned towards the lad, admiring every features you could see. Archons, he’s beautiful under all these warm lights, and he’s looking at you. He looks at no one like this but you.

And yet despite the butterflies raging on your stomach, everything is peaceful. Moments with him were always mellow and placid, the stillness you need whenever the world is in chaos. Do you have the same impact on him? You don’t know.

After seconds, that felt like eternity, you finally found the words to ask him, “How did you find me?”

He looked at you in confusion. Like you just asked him the most ridiculous question you could ever think of. “How did you find me that fast? There’s so many people in the port…”

“Oh… I don’t know…”

I don’t see no body but you.

Kaedehara Kazuha (Blue by Kai)

“Kazuhaa!” was all it takes for the samurai’s heart to jump out of his chest. He’s going to see you; HE’S GOING TO SEE YOUR FACE.

“y/n. It’s good to see you today” The calmness in his voice were contrary to his heartbeat. But he cannot let himself be discovered— he can’t afford to lose this friendship with you, even it means you’ll remain just as friends.

You tackled the man and he let out a chuckle. Patting your head as a sign of affection. “Father allowed me to join the crew for this trip! I’ll get to be with you this time!”

The idea sound endearing in Kazuha’s ears. To spend months with the person he’s pining for, to have a chance to show off his skills— no, no no no. He’s not that kind of person.

“I bet you nagged him to no end for him to agree” you laughed at his words and it set his stomach spiraling once again. “Maybe, but I really want to go. So please just let it be”

You pinched his cheeks before running off to Beidou, giving the captain the news and asking for, of course, her permission for you to join the voyage.

“Loving the view?” Kazuha’s melodic words reached your ears, and you turn to him with a smile. The glistening water from the ocean reflecting on your visage, and sunset behind you cannot compare with how ethereal you look at this moment. At least in his eyes.

A surge of sadness clenches his heart, a thought clouding his mind. He will only taint this beauty, so he’d rather admire you afar.

You in his arms, your love in his care— it will be nothing more than an imagination, a dream for him.

“Kazuha, would it be selfish if I want you to be mine?”

Huh? HUH?

“What are you talking about?” The panic in his voice is vivid, so is the trembling of his hands. Is he hearing things right? Or he’s being delusional?

An awkward silence envelope the little space you two have, aside from the waves and the heavy breathing.

“Well— well of course you can decline! It’s… it is not like I’m forcing you, okay?” Your stuttering made the lad giggle. His warm chuckles painting your face red.

“y/n, are you blushing?”

“IT’S THE SUNSET”

Kazuha let out another burst of laughter before making his way towards you, his gentle digits reaching out to yours. You saw a tint of pink as he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Kazu, you’re blushing”

“It’s the sunset.”

Know you're all that I want this life.

Wanderer (Best Part by Daniel Caesar)

*I’mma call him Scaramouche here, okay.

You awoke from a suffocating grip, body against body his breath hot and heavy. Scaramouche is having a nightmare.

“Scara. Scaramouche. Love, wake up”. You nudge the man as gentle as you can to wake him up, save him from whatever hell he’s dreaming of.

“y/n?” Your name was his first words, and it would have made you happy if you hadn’t seen the way his eyes look at you. A fragment of sapphire yearning for salvation.

“I’m here, I won’t leave you.”

You took him into your arms, kissing his temple. Your digits combing his locks as you calm the fear in his heart. You are grateful that he’s this vulnerable to you, but your angry at everything that made him this way.

“I don’t need your reassurance”

You smiled at his words; his arms tight around you contradicting it.

“I know, but I am not reassuring you. I am telling you.”

There’s a comforting silence that surrounds the room as Scara’s breathing steadies. Tomorrow, when the sun rises together with him, the lad will surely deny of this event. And you will let him off the hook by simply nodding to his arguments.

Or so you thought.

The sun was already high up, the streets were busy, and you can even hear Nahida looking for your lover. But to your surprise, and amusement, he remains latched onto your body.

You will NOT let this opportunity to admire him go to waste. Fingertips tracing is noseline, his eyes, his lips. The daylight that finds its way to his face only added to his divine looks.

“You’re beautiful”

You received a grunt as a response, and you chuckled. “I love every bit of you.” You whispered, and he opened his eyes.

Once again, you’re met with a piece of midnight. Boring holes into your own. You wouldn’t complain, though. You love his eyes.

“Come on, sleepy head. There’s plenty of things to enjoy within the day” You break the silence once again while rubbing your nose on his.

“This is what I wanna do for the day”

“But you’re gonna be bored. I’m not even supposed to be a part of your expedition today y’know?”

“That’s why this is what I wanna do for the whole day”

Because you’re the best part.

[lukarion-ven]

venlune? lunelyn? heilune? kumilune? i dont know, because atm my headcanon is that she likes aether one sidedly.. poor boys o<-<

if you ever get the chance to play an otome game like this, whose route would u pick? i cant choose tbh..

[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.

[mello-bee]

since genshin won't do it, i had to take matters into my own hands

⚠️ocxcanon under cut

[sweetainwen]

ᴜɴᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴsɪɢʜᴛ [WANDERER/SCARAMOUCHE]

Summary: the creator just wanted to find the reason for that system error, but she had brought with her an unwanted insight into the game itself, causing a dangerous and unexpected collapse within him.

Pairings: yandere!Scaramouche/Wanderer x fem!OC (you can think of her as Y/N)

Genre: sagau, yandere!au, isekai!au, futuristic!au, sci-fi!au.

Warnings: jealous!wanderer, fluff, angst, d^aths (no blood tho), wanderer losing his mind, noncon kissing.

SUMERU ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE FONTAINE RELEASE, SO IT'S NOT PRESENT

THE WANDERER'S NAME IS THE ONE I CHOOSE (IT MEANS "LIGHT", "RADIANCE")

Word count: 12k+

A hand gently, lightly brushing his hair. The humming of a sweet, soothing tune tickling his ears. A smile, a face, a calm voice and muffled words.

His eyes struggled to focus.

Everything was blurry, but he could catch those details of the one who was tenderly lulling him.

She was moving her lips, she was talking. but he did not understand. He was still groggy. Nevertheless, he sensed it.

It was home.

“Here, your food.”

He snapped his eyes open, staring at the bowl in front of him before looking up at the arm holding the item and finally at the person sitting to his left on a medium tree trunk.

The Wanderer saw her give him a surprised look, blinking.

“Oh, sorry, did you fall asleep?”

He let out a grunt, almost snatching the bowl out of her hand and spilling out its contents, causing her to gasp slightly.

“My, how grumpy,” she snickered amusedly. “It seems like I'm putting you through torture. You can't call me a bad cook, big hat guy.”

He took the spoon between his fingers, sighing annoyed at the way he had been called for the thousandth time, “Quit with that name.”

“I would if I had a real name to call you by,” she shrugged with a smirk on her face, the spoon playing with the food in the bowl. “But since you won't tell me, I had to give you one. It suits you, doesn't it?”

Her eyes were fixed on his hat at that question, and the Wanderer preferred to ignore it, causing her to put on a feigned pout.

She took a bite of her lunch, "Is this how you treat your travel companion?"

“You are not.”

“But we are traveling together to Sumeru!”

“You have decided to join. Without my consent,” he reminded her, his gaze now on her.

“You didn't refuse though.”

This time her sullen face was genuine.

He stared at her without arguing back, the impulse to leave her there on the spot taking over. However it dissipated shortly after the lively gleam in her eyes struck him.

Again.

“Stop talking and eat up. We need to get back on the road.”

He brought his gaze back to the food, but he could feel the young woman's victorious smile.

She was truly a whirlwind in perpetual motion. She got into constant trouble between hilichurls, treasure hoarders, and even fatui.

It was better to call her a loose cannon.

That was just how he had met her several days before, though the hilarious part was that the hoarders were running away from her.

And he even ended up in the middle of their battle when those bandits had tried to use him as a shield.

It had been a scene comical enough to almost make him sneer.

And that was when she proclaimed herself as his travel companion, since they had to go the same way.

“Have you gone freaking nuts?” he blurted out with crossed arms.

She blinked before putting on a huge smile, “Why not?”

“I could kill you too.”

“You don't seem like a bad guy at all, hat guy," she shook her head, stretching her hand toward him and eyes twinkling like stars. “I'm Clara. No last name, just Clara. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

And he had let her come with him.

He felt a kind of force drawing him toward the young woman. He could not respond in any other way to her gestures and words than with indulgence.

And it irked him that it was no problem for him.

Those eyes on him now accentuated the annoyance he had been feeling for the past few days.

As a result, he put into action what he thought whenever he was stared at intensely by her before continuing on his journey.

A movement of his hand was enough to create a vortex that surrounded the young woman and carried her away from him.

The gasp of surprise and words of displeasure never failed to be heard.

But she always managed to return and take him wherever she wanted to go.

Such as booking a room at an inn for the night.

“Using your element to get rid of me is completely pointless. You are perfectly aware that I'd be back on my feet in no time,” Clara sneered at him, sitting on the windowsill with one leg toward her chest as he lay on the bed far from the open window.

“And you acknowledge the fact that I could harm you with that.”

She giggled in response, and he saw that particular glint in her eyes again that if he could lose his breath, it would have happened by now. The smile that followed it made the picture even more vivid.

“You would have already done what you had to do, Hikaru.”

He frowned, astonishment at hearing that name, “What?”

“Oh. Calling you big hat guy all the time doesn't seem appropriate, and since you won't tell me your name, I decided to give you a real one. Why?” She brought her arm on her knee before resting her chin on it. “You don't like it?”

“Why that name?”

This time, the smile she showed him was a sweet one, devoid of any malice.

“Because you remind me of how a person can emanate their own light, and head towards the end,” she explained in a soft voice, her face now turned up to the night sky. “Like a bright star high in the sky.”

Silence filled the room.

The Wanderer did not know what to answer, and he did not want to answer. The name said so lightly, but with meaning, was the same one the traveler had given him.

It was so strange.

“Although... these stars and this sky seem to have something wrong with them.”

The Wanderer sat on the edge of the bed, confused by the sudden change of subject, “Wrong how?”

He watched carefully as her expression became thoughtful, almost serious, absorbed in finding an explanation.

“It's as if ... you want to go one way, but you are pushed in another. Determined to follow that set thought of yours, but it gets diverted, and you don't know whether to continue or not. A false sense of control. A purpose-built hope.”

She went back to look at him. And the feeling he got from it was totally different.

She seemed to be observing him, seeking something deep within him. Like an astrologist reading your future.

“Well, it's probably just my mindless reasoning," she shrugged, her facial features softening. “I'm going to go to sleep now. Good night, Hikaru.”

And as she got up and headed for her bed, that feeling vanished along with her no longer being in his line of sight.

He lay back down again, confused for the umpteenth time by their interactions. There was definitely a double meaning in what she had said, and he even began to believe that it had some connection to the reason for her journey to Sumeru.

And at that point, after days and nights together, he was wondering: what was she looking for?

Everything was dark, he could see nothing. He could only hear murmurs and noises.

But then there was a gentle touch, his hair being tousled by her hand.

All went quiet, and a faint, sweet chuckle echoed in that darkness before making way for a soft, muffled voice.

He felt it. Deafening and overpowering. That strange feeling.

“You're such a good boy.”

Like it was home.

He snapped his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was Clara’s surprised and slightly worried face.

“Is everything all right?”

Disoriented, he tried to grasp the situation. One of her hands was at the side of his head, while the other was in his. He couldn’t blink.

And Clara, surely noticing his inquisitive look, was quick to explain.

“I saw you stirring in your sleep. I thought you were having a nightmare so I tried to wake you up, but you grabbed my hand,” she showed him their intertwined hands. “Then I tried to soothe you with caresses and reassuring words. And it worked.”

She gave him a smile, but he said nothing. He only stared at her.

Clara tilted her head slightly to the side at that reaction, not understanding what else he wanted to know. Or he probably didn't believe what she had told him.

She did not give it much thought.

When Clara felt his grip loosen, she gently freed her hand from his, standing up.

“I brought your breakfast. It’s on the bedside table. Eat with no rush, I’m going downstairs.”

And she walked on, closing the door behind her.

The Wanderer sat at the edge of the bed and sighed deeply, his eyes going to the tray with his breakfast mentioned by Clara.

He had been experiencing those moments for days now. It was beyond annoying.

Dreams that showed scenarios that then affected him emotionally and psychologically when he woke up. Not just any scenes, but of himself in situations that seemed familiar despite the fact that he had never actually experienced them.

Memories.

It was also strange and impossible. Because he was a puppet. He could not sleep, consequently neither could he dream. However, he was doing both, and he was unaware of how he was doing it.

What was he to expect now? That he would no longer have to pretend that he had to eat?

Of one thing he was sure though. It had all started after the arrival of the one he was now watching chatting and giggling with an inn employee outside the inn after leaving the room.

He sensed it. That greater force pushing him back toward her.

Uncontrollable and domineering.

And another emotion mixed with it. An emotion so strong that he wanted to rip off the head of that young man standing too much close to her.

Instead, he moved closer, catching their attention, and with a movement of his fingers, he made a vortex appear around the young woman that dragged her away from the guy, leaving both of them stunned and confused.

And after throwing a glance that made the unfortunate man shudder, he went behind the whirlwind with Clara rolling her eyes.

He just sneered, feeling a little better. Clara huffed after being released far from the inn, adjusting her disheveled clothes and walking toward the direction they had come from.

Knowing her intentions, he stepped in front of her and before she could even open her mouth to argue, he revealed the object of interest and threw it at her, watching as she tried hard not to drop it.

“Your bag,” he informed her, putting a hand on his hip.

She just shot him a glare, her eyes almost twitching.

“What am I surprised about? Your social skills certainly can't improve in a snap of the fingers,” she muttered displeased, fixing her shoulder bag over one shoulder and checking the contents for possible breakage. “Be more careful when holding other people’s things! And stop frightening people for no reason at all! Poor guy was praying that he wouldn't end up in pieces.”

He did not speak, resuming his walk as if he had heard nothing.

“Ignoring my words, are you?” she gave up, going after him.

“Just a little while and we will arrive at our destination,” was what he communicated instead.

He suddenly felt himself grabbed by the arm, almost causing him to lose his balance, and caught her radiant face a few inches away from his.

He could tell he had had a heart attack at this.

“Really?! Finally! Then we must hurry, I can’t wait to get there!”

He frowned, trying to break free from her grasp, but was taken aback by her sudden jerk forward before she started running and dragging him with her.

She was too enthusiastic for his liking, a child in an adult's body. Hopping here and there like a rabbit with a goofy smile and sparkling eyes through the streets of Sumeru.

He felt like a nanny and couldn't say he was pleased about it.

“Sumeru is just as it was portrayed to me. I love it!”

“Your elation over a city is quite childlike. I could swear I'm dealing with a child.”

She hopped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks and puffing out her cheeks, “And you’re too edgy and grumpy for my liking. Change your mood when you’re with me. I won’t tolerate a gloomy atmosphere.”

“You’re such a-“

“Cute, lovable, little person? I am, thanks for noticing that, Hikaru.”

She stuck out her tongue at him before a smile spread across her face, and he grimaced at what he called her antics. Realizing the presence of the god of wisdom coming toward them with her lips upward instead made him roll his eyes.

“I take great pleasure in seeing that you have finally found yourself a friend.”

That sweet, little voice made Clara turn around, and was taken aback as soon as she saw who was before her.

The Wanderer placed one hand on his hip, shaking his head at her words, “You shouldn’t.”

Nahida slightly giggled, shifting her focus on the young woman by his side, conscious of how she struggled to conceal her astonishment and nervousness in her presence.

“I’m- I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Dendro Archon! I’m… I’m Clara!”

“Very delighted to meet you, Clara.” She almost cooed at her reaction. “I’m hoping he’s not causing you any distress.”

She gesticulated, eyes wide open, “Oh! Of course, he isn’t! Our traveling proceeded smoothly! Not one person was the victim of his aggressive look or word!”

The Wanderer gave her a look and Clara pressed her lips together after the gaffe she had made.

The little Archon cocked her head to the side, entertained by their interaction. But the most interesting behavior was that of the former balladeer, somehow influenced by the young woman to be more calm and condescending.

“You seem to get along pretty well.”

The duo looked at her, baffled. Before they could comment, the clatter of rapidly approaching wheels against the ground alerted the young man.

His hand was quick to rest on her hip, bringing her closer to himself and thus preventing her from being run over by the wooden cart.

The man carrying it apologized several times under Hikaru’s grim gaze, and Clara and Nahida’s surprised eyes before going on his way.

Clara thanked him and, moving slightly away from him, turned to Nahida with a curious look, “There is a lot of movement around. Is there any celebration going on?”

“A festival. Would you like to partecipate?”

Her eyes sparkled, “Can I really?”

“There is no prohibition on this,” Nahida giggled. “Everyone is welcome. With Hikaru's company, it will be easier to integrate.”

“Excuse me?” his eyebrow shot up.

“She’s not familiar with Sumeru. Consequently, someone who is should be her guide.”

It wasn't the beaming face and the implied order of the Dendro Archon, it was Clara's eyes filled with expectation and eagerness to witness a common joy that dragged him through the stalls ― one of which she had almost ended up being scammed and if it hadn't been for her stopping him, he would have probably literally blown up every one of his pieces for sale and the seller himself ― and ultimately among the people moving to the beat of the music.

But he had stood on the sidelines, leaning against a tree and watching as she laughed and got involved with the locals. On her head the hat she had snatched from him.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Her face that showed eyes like sparkling gems filled with life, red cheeks, and lips fully spread in a joyful smile.

She was some sort of flower in the midst of the desert. You found it strange that it was there and at the same time you thought it was wonderful to see it there.

It led you to get closer and stand there admiring it. To cup your hands at its sides and hide it from any intruder.

A sight that you wanted only yours to witness.

And the way he was thinking irked him.

His ears sensed a shift in the air, and Hikaru was able to quickly catch the hat Clara had thrown at him with one hand.

“Guess you’re not fond of festivals. Or should I say people in general?” she remarked, moving to his side and placing her elbow on his shoulder. “Oh, look! I can touch your shoulder even like this!” she added in mock surprise.

He didn't speak, but Clara saw him raise his arm slightly and form a small swirl of air from his hand. She stepped back just far enough not to be blown away with her hands in surrender ― although she didn't think he would really do that.

She tried not to laugh, but it was impossible.  

And it was in that instant that Hikaru saw all around her become blurred and overlaid by an environment all too familiar to him. Her clothes replaced by others and her laughter accentuated.

It echoed in his ears. Overbearing, piercing.

It mixed with the muffled music and chatter in the background of the festival.

A desperate cry broke in, words overlapping each other. Distorted and almost inaudible.

His head began to ache, his eyes squinted, and an annoying ringing thrummed in his ears.

And it became more and more unbearable.

He wanted it to stop. It fucking hurt.

“Please! Please, don’t leave me!”

“Are you all right?”

The suffering vanished as soon as her hands touched his cheeks, bringing him back to the present.

“It's better if you reach a quieter place. Or maybe go straight to bed. It's pretty late, I'd say.”

He didn’t utter a word, completely disoriented by this event. And with no hesitation, he agreed with her suggestion, leaving that chaotic place under Clara’s attentive eyes.

She crossed her arms pensively.

“I assume that your research is not bearing fruit, given the way the situation is somewhat out of control.”

Clara looked at the Dendro Archon beside her, blinking away the fear from her eyes and with a hand on her chest the near heart attack she had from her sudden arrival.

“Don’t ever do that again if you do not wish for my death!” She exhaled, “I cannot ask such questions without having at least a phase of knowledge and trust between us. It will just take a little longer because of his wariness. Nothing is out of control. What gave you this impression?”

Nahida didn’t look away from the crowd and Clara followed suit, “Is this the first time he has shown himself like that?”

Realizing that she was referring to how Hikaru had grabbed his head with one hand and his face had distorted in pain, Clara cocked her head to the side, not sure how to respond.

“I think it is. Although he had a pretty awful nightmare last night. He wouldn't stop squirming and at one point wouldn't even let go of my hand. The situation is indeed quite strange.” She shook her head, crossing her arms again, “He should not experience this kind of thing; he is a puppet. Still, seeing him trying to hide it is very amusing.”

She smiled, amused by the memory of him eating and sleeping like a normal human being.

Nahida hummed thoughtfully, “It may be a consequence of your closeness.”

Her gaze ended on her again, and Nahida did the same.

“You two share something deep,” she replied at her silent question. Something that both unites and changes you.”

“Like… a connection? Are you trying to say that because of this connection that we have,” she pointed at herself in a surprised manner. “I am instigating a change in him? He forgets everything if I get out of the game and then remember again if I go back in?”

“A deep connection. The more you feel, the more intriguing and dear is something or someone to you,” she clarified her hypothesis. “You must remember your effect on the people of this world. Your presence can be sensed by every single individual here. You are the creator. A powerful figure, more than us Archons. We are not fully aware of the influence of each of your actions. And I forewarned you of my inability to help you in such dangerous cases. What I see is total blackness; you are not part of this world. That’s why you have to be careful not to ruin the balance of Teyvat more than Dottore and Wanderer have discovered. Do it for the sake of all of us.”

Clara let out a sigh, and nodded.

Her voice was sweet and gentle, but the weight of the words spoken was not light.

The things that were taking form in this game were not supposed to occur. Having real interactions with people here was not an expected possibility, because it was a game.

A game that she herself had given shape to and was having huge success.

She was living in an era where technology was overdeveloped, it could very well be compared to a sci-fi movie. Time travel had been discovered, even flowing into parallel universes. Computers were no longer cumbersome but a small device that showed you in hologram what you wanted, like the keyboard and the mouse itself.

Being a video game producer, she had in mind a game that would bring back the old days, a gacha style of gaming that had gone out of fashion long centuries before, leaving only complete games to continue through time.

Thus, she had shared with her co-founders this idea of hers, which was accepted with some misgivings.

She did not have many expectations either, nevertheless people had liked it, taking her by surprise. Probably because this generation had never seen any, except in documentaries or such, and wanted to experience what it was like to live in an earlier era.

Some time after the game was released, she had thought of creating a more realistic alternative of it using VR headsets to engage even those who had felt no interest.

However, something had gone wrong, because she had experienced firsthand one of the scenes she had intended to include in the game that was still far from being added: the Tatarasuna Mistery. In which a mysterious disease had infected, killed many locals and scarred Hikaru to the core.

She hadn’t been an exception.

The crying, suffering, screams, desperation.

It had been too much to watch and had nearly given her a panic attack.

And she had done the only thing she believed was right: use her VR headset to get out of there. When she did, she was wearing the clothes of that world and had some small wounds on her feet from running on the ground barefoot in terror.

It was then that she realized she had created a parallel universe of that game. The game codes had been mixed up and incorporated by the three-dimensional-capable machine she had used as a technical test, bringing to life the scenarios that were still being designed.

This discovery was too dangerous to share; in fact, they decided never to talk about it again. The fright and concern her co-founders had felt after seeing her in that state had been enough to agree to keep quiet about the matter.

Unfortunately, a problem occurred when an event came out further on, in which Scaramouche, the sixth fatui harbinger, made his first appearance.

Some of the scenes were not what they were supposed to be. They had changed. Scaramouche should not have said that the sky was fake, a hoax. But they had let it go; it gave a sense of mystery and decided to go with the flow.

After that, Il Dottore said the same words. It was not a simple concidence. Her game had a reality on its own and was writing its own story. Even their employees were beginning to detect strange things.

She wanted to solve the issue, but she did not know whether destroying that universe would bring consequences in the game and be discovered by the S.T.C.C.O., the Spatio-Temporal Continuum Control Organization.

Wandering between worlds must be authorized by them to prevent ill-intentioned people from changing parts of history for selfish purposes, and if they did not show permission they could shut the company down.

Risking a life of progress was out of the question, consequently the only option was to look for a foothold in that same world and figure out how to fix it against the disagreement of her co-founder friends.

The only way she believed possible was to ask for help from the one who had wisdom and knowledge on her side, The Dendro Archon Lesser Lord Kusanali.

She smiled. Kind, welcoming. And a small movement of her head in a reverent greeting.

“Welcome, outsider.”

She was petrified of Nahida’s awareness of her. It showed her skill as the ruler of a region, but it was all the same frightening how her identity could be so easily discovered.

She found out later that not everyone could do that, only the archons, so she had breathed a sigh of relief, hoping, however, that she would not one day end up buried alive for all the pain they had felt because of her.

Her explanation of the events, where she came from and who she was, had left Nahida speechless. She had understood she was a foreigner, but not the significance of her presence there.

Everything about the young woman had some kind of wall blocking any outside access, and the reason she could not was precisely her provenance.

The Dendro Archon had then taken her to Hikaru while he was still Scaramouche, and the sight of him lying unconscious after the battle with the traveler had made quite an impression on her.

Everything here was real; you could talk to them, joke with them, touch them.

Remorse had made its way into her, and unconsciously she had approached and reassured him of his rebirth.

He was now Hikaru, the Wanderer.

She still had to find out what made him think everything was fake before releasing another region and archon quests, though it was proving quite difficult to do so.

She just had to try several times in different ways until he gave in.

That was why she had asked Nahida to send him on a trip and have them meet in the least forced way.

It would have taken her longer, but since in this universe time seemed to pass as it did in his game and unlike his world, she didn't mind.

The same could not be said of her indecision about whether or not to knock on the door of the room where Hikaru had decided to rest.

She could feel tension in the air. It was strange. And… intimidating.

Especially after talking to Nahida.

“Are you coming in or not? Don’t have any hands to open the door?”

She almost let out a scream at this sudden voice, a hand on her chest.

The way both of them made her almost die of a heart attack from a fright was really impressive.

Opening the door slightly, she let only her head pop out, almost shy, "I just wanted to know if you're feeling better."

“What do you think?” He articulated sharply, not even glancing at her.

“Well…” She entered the room, walking towards the bed where he was sitting and standing a short distance from him, “Is it a headache? Do you want me to fetch some medicine?”

“It’s not necessary. It will go away on its own.”

“Oh, good.”

Silence built between them.

Perhaps it had not been a good idea to visit him now, he was definitely not in the mood for small talk or anything else ― as he always was ― but she could not leave him alone.

“What’s your purpose here?”

After the initial moment of stupor, with a blink of her eyes, she could only say, “What?”

He looked at her, and almost took a step back because of how dull his eyes were.

“Sumeru probably has something to do with your traveling. What is it that you’re looking for?”

That was totally unexpected.

She thought she would have to work her way up to simply have a reply from him without creating suspicions. Even though it didn’t look like there wasn’t any from his intense gaze.

“Answers.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slight hint of amusement in his hollow eyes at her short response, “Answers. To what? The bright star high in the sky and the feeling of being controlled?”

He was definitely mocking her and the metaphor she used to express her opinion.

“Precisely that one.” She tilted her head to the side, “What do you think about it?”

“Everyone is controlled by someone one way or another. Willingly or unwillingly.”

“That makes sense. But how are you aware of that control? What signs do you see to come to that conclusion?”

“I don't know. Your instincts?”

She opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again, sighing slightly.

It was too good to be true. It was Hikaru they were talking about. The personality could not change.

She had a pang in her heart. She had given him that personality, like every character in the game. She had caused trauma and tragic experiences.

And that struck even deeper.

Everything in the palm of her hand, but as soon as something was out of control she wanted to fix it right away.

It was also a logical consequence of her work environment; she could leave nothing to chance.

The guilt still consumed her from the inside.

She realized only now how they had remained silent and with their eyes on each other.

He seemed to want to peer deep into her. To look for behavioral changes, for a weakness, to give certainty to doubts.

Or perhaps she was influenced by her own guilt.

It was suffocating.

Her hand moved, slowly, giving the puppet the choice to shrug it off, but he did not. It rested on his head and began to gently caress it.

“I’m sorry.”

It was a faint whisper, but a strange glint flashed through his eyes at it.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, just… I’m sorry.”

It had been spontaneous. She wanted to tell him, even though he did not understand the act.

And again, the same gaze as a few moments ago was on her. This time it was less oppressive and more… soft.

He reached for the arm of her hand still on his head and put it down, before pulling her close to him and resting his head on her stomach. His arms wrapping around her waist.

The word astonishment did not fully describe how she felt about this gesture.

It was completely out of character. Nonetheless, she had to remind herself that he was no longer a mere character in a game and that anyone who got an aloof, arrogant and conceited attitude could fall apart.

As a result, she encircled his head with her arms, attempting to convey comfort and reassurance.

She felt his grip on her waist tighten slightly, but was completely oblivious to the effect her words had on him… and the sudden change in his eyes hidden from her sight.

Thus, when he was standing at her heels the following days, it had her somewhat confused.

Scratch that. It was really confusing how calm and kind he had become to her.

It was likely due to that moment they shared together a few nights before, but the shift was…

Well, at least he had not completely changed; that would have been unsettling.

But she did not expect that he would even lie beside her on the grass, on a small slanted ledge of a hill, to watch the sunset together.

A bird flew in front of her and, following it with her eyes, she saw how it landed on Hikaru's head.

He sighed but did nothing to get it off.

It wasn't the first time this had happened; even if he tried to make it leave, he wouldn't succeed like he did with the others, and that made her laugh.

“They love you, huh?”

He didn't look at her, “Shut up.”

 “Never.”

He raised his hand, ready to make her fly faster than a bird, but she surrendered by shaking hers.

“Oh, my! You should calm your horses! There's beautiful nature here contributing to a breathtaking view and you want to sweep it away? That's so cruel!”

“I eliminate possible contamination.”

She blinked, “Wait. Me?”

With his eyes now on her, he cocked an eyebrow matter-of-factly, “Who else? The bird? Is your brain a decoration by any chance?”

She snorted, sitting down on the grass, “Then you should avoid associating with a person who has her brain as a decoration. That way you can avoid becoming dumb yourself.”

She was about to get up, but Hikaru's hand putting her back down blocked her from doing so.

And without saying anything, she smiled, bringing her arms under her head again and closing her eyes. A slight smile took up the young man's lips; she would not find out though, for it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

And after he did not know how long, heavy breathing of a sleeping person could be heard instead, and when he looked to his left, Clara was completely in dreamland.

Hikaru let out a small snort of disbelief at the scene.

The sound of stepping on grass behind him caught his attention.

“You like her company now, don't you?”

He sat up, watching the bird finally fly away, “She is bearable.”

Nahida giggled, “So bearable to follow her around, right?”

He reimaned silent as he got up and brushed off his clothes from the dirt, but didn't miss to give her a side-eye.

The little Dendro Archon observed as a small wind began to rise with a movement of his hand, lifting Clara into the air and carrying her directly into his arms; one below the crook of her knees and the other wrapping around her back. Her head drooping before resting on his chest.

With a nod toward her as a sign of goodbye, he jumped up into the air and flew away, leaving her alone.

Along with her worries.

She sighed slightly, “Seriously, I hope nothing happens.”

It could not be said that something was not wrong, as doubts had crept into Hikaru's mind anyway.

Such an answer as Clara's would have pleased no one; it was too vague.

That was why he had changed his attitude a bit, to get more informations.

Laying her on her bed, he took the bag off her shoulder without waking her and sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze drawn as always to her face.

He had a gut feeling of her being involved in those chaotic and confusing fragments of situations he was recalling, although there was a certain confidence ― which by now had wavered ― that he had never experienced them.

Getting closer was the best method to piece together those called fragments, but the more he did, the harder it was to detach and stay focused.

She was the one distracting him.

A few strands of her hair had fallen across her face, and his hand reached out to move them aside. After that he heaved a sigh, realizing that he had been staring at her for he did not know how long before he recovered from that strange state of daze.

He was definitely losing his mind.

He stood up and walked over to the chair placed by the door to put Clara's bag, which he still had in his hand, on it.

Before he could open the door a sudden noise stopped him. It had echoed in his mind, like a jingle.

Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Another forgotten memory.

Looking behind him, he spotted the bag upturned on the ground with something out of it. It almost seemed to shimmer under the moonlight coming in through the open window.

And as soon as he took the fallen object in his hands his brows furrowed.

It was big, almost as big as half his head, and black. There was some kind of rope tied to the ends of it and eyes in the center of that small bizarre thing.

He recalled Clara’s exaggerated care for her bag, figuring now that it was most likely for this item and its possible fragility.

The more he stared at it, the more there was something tickling his mind.

And it turned into a deafening ringing that caused him to blink several times before he heard a muffled voice and saw blurred images of that same object and a young woman showing how to use it.

“Bring this to the back of your head, then this to the front.”

Like a puppet, he led that rope behind his head and the large part in front of his eyes. It fit like a glove.

“And press the button on the left side.”

He skimmed lightly for a prominent spot until he found it.

Through that device, a spiral of colors appeared before his eyes as the ground beneath his feet seemed to disappear into thin air before he felt it again.

Now he could only see white, and he quickly took that thing off, finding himself in a completely white and empy small room. A sliding metal door opened ahead of him and he hesitantly stepped out.

What he saw left him totally shocked.

There were pictures and drawings of a lot of people posted on the walls, but the ones he recognized immediately were Lesser Lord Kusanali, the Raiden Shogun, the traveler, their fellow flying being.

And himself. In all his forms.

To his left was a chair that had small wheels instead of feet and a kind of desk with another strange invention on it; there were almost transparent windows in which one showed a picture of flowers and writing in a small square while the other showed letters and symbols.

They were not part of the alphabet of the Teyvat language, so he could not tell which letters they were.

Next to them was yet another one with an almost mouse-like shape.

Attracted, he tried to press the arrow symbol pointing to the left located in the middle of that rectangular window, and a female voice suddenly boomed in the room.

She had used a welcoming tone, however, he did not understand what she had said except for a few words.

Xu Shi Han.

He was sure it was a name.

It was then that his gaze landed on a frame. A picture frame where Clara was smiling together with other people.

What was a picture of her doing here? Was he going insane?

Where the heck was he?

Raising his head, he looked out of that large window that gave a view of huge, long, light-filled buildings and the dark sky.

This made him come to a realization.

He was in another world.

He looked at the picture frame again.

Clara’s world.

She had gotten to Teyvat with that same machine that had taken him here.

He clutches on it still in his hand, overwhelmed by that discovery.

Then who was Xu Shi Han? A friend of hers? A workmate? Both?

Or was this all a hallucination?

Sudden sequences occupied his mind, almost causing him to lose his balance and grunt from the incessant pounding in his head.

He cast a glance at the device in his hand and decided to go back and ask the young woman for an explanation.

It was better to be direct this time, she might even have a solution for those headaches and disconnected memories.

It was beginning to irritate him.

However, as soon as he entered that white room again, put the object on and pressed the button, he had to grit his teeth and hold his head.

It felt like it was being hammered. Repeatedly and relentlessly.

A searing burning melting his brain until it reached his legs, which gave way under the weight of the pain.

There were voices.

It was unbearable!

Voices. Images.

He wanted it to stop!

Giggles. Cries. Screams.

Stop! Enough! No!

Please!

He inhaled deeply and his eyes were drawn to someone standing in front of him with their back to him.

Trees, plants and bushes began to dip into scenery.

Tilting his head to the side, curiosity crept in at the sight of that person dressed in clothes he had never seen before.

She had also removed something black and large from her head and was looking around. He could only see half of her face but wonder and excitement were visible on it despite standing slightly away from him.

Adjusting the basket full of harvested fruit on his hip, he moved a foot forward but found a small tree branch under it, alerting the young woman who spun around at the noise.

It was like being struck by a lightining. She was really beautiful.

“Oh, forgive me! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” he exclaimed in a soft voice, shaking his head. Confusion was visible in her features, and his fingers began to play with part of the rim of the basket, feeling shy, “Are you lost, by any chance?”

She let out a sigh, “I… think so. Am I on a island?”

Even her voice was melodious.

“You are. Kannazuka, more specifically in Tatarasuna.”

He saw her eyes widen and look at him intently, almost as if she wanted to see through him.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Kabukimono, pleased to meet you!” he smiled, enthusiastic about making new acquaintances. “And you are?”

She seemed to have relaxed a little, smiling back at him, “Shi Han. The pleasure is all mine, Kabukimono.”

Technically it was not a lie, yet she was puzzled by the situation because it was not supposed to start that way.

Had she gotten the main settings wrong? A reversed scenario loading? She recalled checking several times before putting the machine into operation.

Glancing one more time at the trees, the bushes, with the chirping of the birds around and the sound of their shoes against the ground, the feeling of experiencing such a realistic sensory stimulus never ceased to charm her.

Her gaze fell on the puppet leading the way to the village after telling her that she could stay with them as long as she wanted. The shy but lively way he interacted with her turned the corner of her lips upward.

“We’re here!” he informed her, quickening his pace.

Chatter and laughter reached her ears, and she stepped out of the way in time to avoid being bumped by two children chasing each other.

She followed Kabukimono with her eyes as he walked over to this familiar young man with a red lock of hair to show him the basket of fruits, being repaid with a smile and probably words of praise.

After that, his attention switched to her, thus bringing the other to look at her as well, and she decided to approach for introductions. She then understood why he looked familiar; he was Niwa Hisahide, the one she would blame for the island tragedy in the game.

They appeared like real people. Having them face her really did have a strange effect.

She certainly could not say that they were fictitious characters and was trying out the game in virtual reality to attract more players, so she had opted for a simpler and quite believable explanation: she was traveling but had gotten lost and her possessions had been stolen.

She had also immediately found a bag to put her VR headset in to avoid curious questions.

Kabukimono had already thrown a quizzical look at it, which was not supposed to happen, since it was not meant to be exposed to the eyes of the characters.

Even if there were inventions here, explaining the use of a VR headset could have involved complications in the game which she was not inclined to have.

Everything had to go smoothly, and her intent had been achieved.

She wore the local clothes, got along well with the villagers, and helped with whatever errands were available.

Still, Kabukimono's reluctant behavior around her had not escaped her notice.

Conversations were brief ― almost nonexistent ― and he would run off, yet he had been so friendly during the first meeting.

These interactions were odd; she did not remember including them as options. Actually, nothing was as she recollected setting them up.

As he was now with the elderly women who spoke to him as he smiled and listened eagerly.

“Don't worry. He had these reactions with us at first too,” Niwa's voice caught her attention as the young man walked up beside her with a hand on his hip. "He just needs some time, you'll see how he won't pull away again."

"But it's been days," she sighed. "And I'm not doing who knows what action to deserve this attitude again. I'm approaching in a gentle way."

He hummed thoughfully, “You are right about that. But... it may be that you are different.”

“Different?”

He smiled, “Sometimes we have different impressions of some people. Honestly speaking, yours leaves its mark, Shi Han. You release positive energy that relaxes and makes one feel at home. Apparently, your energy has a powerful effect on him and that makes him shy and clumsy.” Niwa chuckled at the dumbfounded face she had while he was talking, and shoved the sheath with the sword inside into her hands. “Now take this and hand it to him. He lost his previous sword and had asked me to forge another.”

Awakening from her initial astonishment, she tried to speak but he was already on his way.

So she huffed out a laugh and the only thing she said to him was a "thank you!" to which he responded with a shake of his hand.

She hadn't really noticed that he had a sword in his other hand, caught up as she was in the Kabukimono dilemma.

Niwa's confession had left her speechless. So much for the fictional character!

If they had told her that she would hear such a thing from a nonexistent person, she would have laughed in their faces.

Glancing at Kabukimono, she caught him staring at her before returning his eyes to the women who were walking away after the talk ended. She almost chuckled as she walked toward him to fulfill her errand.

“Hi. Here, from Niwa,” she spoke kindly, showing him the weapon he then took from her hands. 

“Thank you,” it was almost a whisper.

“I heard you practice sword dance. It must be difficult.”

“Not very.”

“You put in a lot of effort, though”, she smiled. “This is not to be underestimated. Although I have never seen you dance, I know enough about this.”

He had not responded, he just looked at her. She seriously believed that she was hated at this point and that Niwa's words were just to reassure her.

"Would you like to... watch me?"

That caught her off guard, but she widened her smile, "I would love to!"

She hadn't really expected that! It was a really huge leap of progress!

It certainly had not been easy to ask her to see him dance, but she was really happy about it. And now that she was witnessing that dance, to say that he was talented was an understatement!

The smooth and accurate movements, the relaxed facial features, and the passion-filled eyes with which he performed the poses was nothing short of mesmerizing.

As a backdrop, the trees, the river and the light wind that had risen made it almost magical.

She couldn’t stop looking at him.

He was so immersed in it that he seemed to have forgotten her presence after ending his dance, so she applauded him, catching his attention.

"That was... magnificent. I don't know what else to say.”

His eyes drifted to the sword, playing with its hilt, “I’m honored to be complimented.”

Shi Han was completely taken hostage by the tenderness he had awakened in her, and without thinking about it she had mussed his long hair in an affectionate gesture.

Kabukimono had only blinked in surprise.

"Oh, forgive me!" she pulled away, raising her hands in surrender. "You were so sweet that I moved unintentionally. Please, don’t hate me!”

“Hate you? I would never!” he quickly shook his head, almost offended by that.

“Oh. I thought… you hated me.”

“Never! I’m just…” now he looked anywhere but at her, what was probably embarrassment invading him. “You are so beautiful and kind…”

She would have had an explosion of diabetes if he had not stopped!

How in the heck was he so, so sweet? He was a precious cinnamon roll!

“So it is not a disturbance if I request to see your dance again?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s a relief then. And… thank you for your compliments.”

The response she received was sparkling eyes and a toothy smile.

And the following days Kabukimono had left all shyness behind and kept staying close to her like a child trailing after his mother.

He would smile constantly, seek advice on even the smallest things, ask to pick fruits or just go for a walk together.

A total different character.

You could not look at him and not think of protecting him from any danger.

To think that he would change his personality after that tragic event that he would soon have to endure was really a shame, yet the story had to have footholds to continue.

Every action and reaction was calculated and giving them drastic plot changes could have consisted of inconsistencies in moving forward.

Messing up was not an option.

She was going to enjoy the course of events without a hitch.

And watching Kabukimono had become her favorite pastime; he was so adorable and innocent. Like now as he placed the firewood under the cauldron.

Surely he had noticed her fixed gaze on him, for she could see him playing with the sleeves of his robe.

“Asahi is late.”

She chuckled, “He wants to do it himself, as small as he is it will take him a while. He wants to be useful, like you.”

“He shouldn't tire himself though, since he's not very well.”

“I know, but let him do it. It's really cute to see him so hard-working.”

Asahi, the sick child who would add to Kabukimono's suffering when he would pass away.

He was already ill, that tragedy would take place sooner than later.

Another detail she did not remember at all was his name, because she had not given him one. He was just supposed to be an addition for the character that would become Scaramouche.

But if she dug her heels in over everything, she would start to get headaches, so it was best not to question and just comply.

“Water is here!” the small enthusiastic voice of Asahi caught their attention and they saw him almost trip and tip over the bucket full of water.

“That's too much water, Asahi!” Shi Han burst out laughing, helping him move closer to the fire.

“We still need it!”

“Yes, yes. Pour it slowly or you'll ruin the firewood.”

The teasing, the smiles, the chattering, the caresses. These heart-warming interactions had always fascinated Kabukimono.

Every human feeling and emotion captivated him.

There was something mysterious and inexplicable about the way they worked and manifested themselves.

However, the one who attracted him like a moth to a candle was Shi Han.

The manifestation of her emotions was a subtle but strong trait; the change of them could be sudden or slow.

He often found himself staring at her more than he should, completely invaded by a strange feeling that a puppet should not experience.

He had no heart; it was impossible.

Could it perhaps have been her aura? It was not to be ruled out. The villagers also felt at ease with her and almost considered her family.

“Is something wrong?” Shi Han's gentle voice and her face so close to his made him pull back a little from the sudden entry into his view. “I called you several times. Do you feel strange?”

“Oh, no. It’s just… You seem to feel so much happiness…”

“Are you not happy?” Asahi asked confused.

“I could, if I didn’t have…” Unconsciously, his hand went to his chest. “… a void here.”

“You mean, you wish you had a heart?” He nodded and heard Shi Han sigh, sitting next to him. “Mmh, have you ever heard this story before?” the question gained their attention as the child placed the bowl of food on the floor, “There once was a puppet soldier whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever. But the soldier didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feeling came from. One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina.” He smiled, ”The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”

He exhaled, sadness filling his voice, “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart, but that’s not a real heart.”

“Maybe. But what if…” He tilted his head to the side, “… hearts can be born from ashes?”

That would have changed things, but he was not sure.

“You don’t need a heart,” Shi Han spoke, grabbing his hand and slight sparks orerran his body. “The fact that you worry about being empty and that you might not reciprocate in the same way shows that you feel something.” A tender smile played on her lips, eyes looking at him with affection, “You are able to express emotions without it. You are more human that most people. Am I right, Asahi?”

“She is!” he had almost shouted it while nodding firmly.

Her face lit up, as if he had remembered something, “Oh! Asahi! Your handmade gift!”

The child made the same expression, got up and ran to a wooden box, pulling out a doll.

Kabukimono was quite confused.

After the child had gotten closer, he noticed the details of the object better. It was him. Its hair and clothing were the same as his, and it had what looked like a small tear under its eye.

“I'm aware that it didn't turn out that well, but I still wanted to give you a gift.”

He was at loss of words. He had a knot in his throat and his eyes were stinging.

He grabbed the doll and stared at it, a smile forming on his lips.

“Look, you’re smiling,” Shi Han rubbed his shoulder in a comforting way. “You’re happy, Mono.”

“Mono?”

She sucked the air through her teeth before grinning, “Kabukimono is too long. Mono is better.”

He smiled back, feeling shy again but with a tingling sensation.

He heard Asahi giggling, but a coughing fit struck him, bringing Shi Han to stroke his back and him to look at him worriedly.

“Everything is fine, just coughing.”

“You should still get back into bed. I’ll accompany you.”

He followed them with his gaze until they vanished into the other room and went back with his eyes on the doll. He touched its hair, its trim and stitching.

A gift made with affection.

A goal he did not think he could achieve. He thought people would not consider him; lacking a heart he might not feel empathy, or understand certain actions dictated by certain feelings. Consequently, causing estrangements on their part.

Yet they were friendly, loving, and hospitable. They treated him like a son, an older or younger brother, a friend. He felt loved and always wanted to be loved.

And very much loved by Shi Han.

It had become a permanent fixture. He did not want to do anything that could lead her to be bothered by his presence; he wanted to be praised.

More and more.

She had become the first person he spoke to as soon as the sun came out. A strong force continually pushed him toward her. And he did not mind.

Just being near her gave him warmth and love. He could sense it.

Like now, as the sound of the flowing river was heard, sitting at its bank and looking at the night sky.

It was better to say that he was watching her admire the stars.

“I love this view. I've never seen so many stars light up the night.”

“Where you come from there aren't many?”

She shook her head, “No. Let's just say they've… dimmed over time.”

“You will see them often by staying here then.”

She had opened her mouth, but had not spoken. This jolted him slightly and he began to feel a squeeze in his chest at that nonverbal response.

“Are you… leaving?”

Shi Han had definitely noticed the sudden change in mood, because she was hesitating, but she eventually nodded.

“I’m traveling, so… I’m moving all the time.” He turned his head to the other side and pulled his knees to his chest. “I also have to stay with my family. They definitely miss me. But this doesn’t me- wait, what’s wrong? Are you crying?”

Hearing her concerned voice gave him a sense of victory.

First she would sneak in and then decide to leave without thinking about what she had left behind? Without thinking about how he would feel? Was she really going to leave him? Why?

He didn't want to!

Her hand moved his shoulder slightly so she could look at him, but he resisted. He heard her calling him, but he did not answer.

He felt betrayed.

“Mono, please, listen to me!”

“I am.”

“You aren’t. You didn't hear a word I said because you’re still like this.”

He stood up abruptly and looked at her, taking steps back before halting and showing her bag in his hand.

Shi Han had widened her eyes, taken aback and confused by his action.

“Speak the truth. It has to do with that object you always carry in here with you, doesn't it? The way you take care of that thing has always intrigued me. You never show it to anyone, you keep it hidden and you seem obsessed with it.”

She let out a long sigh with her eyes closed, sensing the situation getting out of hand.

She was probably thinking that she would never have thought of such an overreaction on his part and that she didn't even know how they had gotten to this point.

He didn't know either. All he knew was that a trigger had been set off.

“It is because it’s an important object for me. It has an emotional value. It’s a gift.” She explained in a soft voice and stretched out her hands, “Come here, I’ll show you.”

He kept looking at her, stalling for a while until he gave up.

Shi Han reached into the bag and pulled out the object.

"Bring this behind your head," she had lifted that thing above her head and brought with one hand what looked like a strange rope behind it. “Then this to the front,” the large part went in front of her eyes. “And press the button on the left side,” her finger stayed on that specified spot but didn’t press down. “That’s it. But since I break a lot of things, and you know that, I don't use it much to avoid breaking it.” She took it off and smiled at him before putting that thing back in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Sorry if I startled you. I was going to talk to everybody about it these days. And I was telling you earlier that I would come back to visit anyway, and we may as well write to each other.”

He lowered his head, distress overtaking him.

Of course there were these options, but they were not like having her by his side all the time.

It was different.

“But I will not see you every day.” his voice had come out hoarse, as if he were tearing up.

“You can travel with me. And we can take Asahi with us, too. If you want, we can ask Niwa as well. I don't know if he would agree to travel, but it doesn't hurt to try.” He raised his head, stunned by the proposal. Shi Han cupped his cheeks, her fingers wiping away tears he did not know were coming out, “There, there, stop crying. Have you calmed down? Do you like my idea? No more sadness?”

He nodded, inhaling a deep breath to cool down.

This myriad of emotions were making him dizzy. And what she did next almost caused him to lose strength in his legs.

She giggled, tousled his hair and rested her lips on his forehead. After that, she hugged him. His face leaning against the crook of her neck, warm and soft skin touching.

“You’re such a good boy.”

Her fingers run through his hair, stroking gently and slowly.

He couldn’t think straight. He was over the moon.

He hugged back, tightening his grip as much as he could without hurting her.

It was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, comfort and fondness. Safe from any danger, feeling special, and have no negative thoughts.

She was the last piece to complete his wish.

Like it was your home.

It felt like home.

He had attained peace. A feeling so wonderful that he wished it would last for eternity.

But against his every thought and will, that newly completed paradise was gone.

Black smoke had begun to surround them, and the villagers began to get sick. They were getting worse and worse, and no one knew how the heck to stop the disease.

And they were dying. They were dying and dying one by one. A chain reaction that had spread terror and despair. And the helplessness about the situation didn’t help.

Hence, he decided to ask for help from the one who had created him, the Electro Archon herself.

He did not want to leave Shi Han, Asahi and Niwa alone, but he had to do something.

When he arrived in Inazuma, no one would let him in to have an audience with the Archon. With tears in his eyes and desperation clouding his senses, he did not for a single moment stop asking about his creator, displaying the golden feather around his neck, left by her in his hands.

Even though Yae Miko appeared in Ei's place, he begged to save the villagers, on his knees, his hands grasping her clothes. Shepromised help, and he believed her.

After returning to Tatarasuna, he saw Shi Han standing outside the house in the distance.

“Shi Han! The shogunate will come here! Let’s inform Niwa and-“

Now close by, he could notice Shi Han's dull eyes and bare feet. A bad omen took hold of him and he ran toward Asahi's bedroom.

When he saw him, Asahi seemed to be asleep.

Deeply asleep.

He had a lump in his throat, his hands began to shake.

That was a joke, wasn’t it? Asahi was definitely joking. It was not the best moment to do that, but he was playing around.

For sure.

“Asahi, it’s not good time to play. You need to wake up. The… The shogunate is coming and…”

One touch and he suddenly pulled his hand away, as if electrocuted.

Asahi was cold to the touch. Too cold.

No. No! No! No! Please, no!

Why? Why was all this happening? What had they done wrong to undergo such a thing?

The child’s words crossed his mind and he smiled through the tears.

He was here. Asahi was still here. His heart was still here.

And without a second thought, the flames enveloped both him and the house. He waited, waited until he could see it, but there was nothing there.

No heart from the ashes but anger and sadness made an appearance.

He clenched his hands into fists, tears that would not stop falling, “How dare you die like this, and break your promise to me?” He sneered, “What a joke… It’s just ashes, nothing left but ashes.”

He lifted his head up, a deep sigh leaving him. He stayed like that for a while before walking out.

He still had his Shi Han. He needed her hugs and sweet words.

He needer her.

However, he did not expect to see her with that black object on her head, her hands still on each side of it.

Hesitantly, he spoke, “Shi Han?”

Their eyes met, and what hers conveyed made him even more desperate.

“What… are you doing?”

Shi Han gulped, lips quivering and voice shaking, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

It was too much.

Tragedy was to come, but she did not imagine it so suddenly. She had not even had time to breathe. It was all going too fast, and witnessing it firsthand had never been in her plans. To see the life of someone you spend time with vanish before her eyes without being able to do anything to stop it was the most deplorable torture there was.

Waking up from the catatonic state with the smell of smoke from the flames Kabukimono had started burning the house in which she had memories was another pain.

She could not take it.

It was all too realistic; she did not even believe she was in her own game anymore. Maybe she was and there had been mistakes during the data transfer.

She didn’t care anymore. She wanted to get the fuck out.

If she had entered in the game with the VR, she could as well come out of it.

Fear was dominating her and she didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody else. She couldn’t.

She was doing what was right for her sanity. And she also felt so bad for that.

“What are you saying? I… I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t stay here any longer.”

“Wait, wait! What do you mean? What are you trying to say? Where are you going? Where-“

Adjusting her VR, she pressed the button and everything was reduced into a spiral of colors. Seeing the familiar white room again, she collapsed on the floor, relief taking over her senses. Hearing her friends' and co-fonders’ voice put a definite end to that long moment.

But for Kabukomono had been an istant. A light and then nothing. She was gone.

His Shi Han was gone.

Where? Where had she gone? What had she done to make herself disappear? And why? So was it a lie? She did want to leave him?!

His head hammered incessantly, it felt like needles penetrating and pushing deep. His pupils constricted, a silent scream leaving his body, his hands clutching his head to try to stop the pain.

It hurt. It was unberable.

“Shi Han! Shi Han!” he sobbed. “Don’t go! Come back! Why are you doing this?! Please! Please, don’t leave me! Shi Han, please! Don’t leave me!”

Shi Han exhaled, almost running out of air. After regaining oxygen, she sat on the edge of the bed and a sigh of relief left her lips.

She was in her room, probably after she fell asleep and was brought in.

That was terrifying.

Dreaming of those events was not really something she expected. She had had nightmares after returning from here, but they had faded after a few months.

Guilt was kicking in again.

She needed a glass of fresh water for her dry throat.

Movements alerted her and she got up, spotting Hikaru under the moonbeams picking up her bag and placing it on the chair.

“Oh, it’s you. Was it you who brought me here?”

“Did you think it was someone else?”

“I… never thought you would do that,” she giggled. “but thank you.”

He just hummed, “Your bag fell and this thing slipped,” he lifted one of his hand to show her VR, the other one on his hip. “Nothing broken, you can rest assured.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “Ah, thank God- Archons. It’s a precious item for me.”

She walked over, checking that nothing was really broken, and put it back in the bag, then holding the latter to herself and returning to the bed to place it on the nightstand.

She wanted to hit herself because she had almost made a stupid mistake. Here they were not thanking God but the Archons.

It had never happened before, but the air was imbued with something strange.

It was heavy, tense.

“Is something wrong? You look nervous, Shi Han.”

“Oh, it’s al-“

Her heart skipped a beat, turning pale. She turned around to look at him, searching for something in his eyes that suggested she had heard wrong.

She had certainly heard him wrong. A trick of her ears. He didn’t know her real name.

“What…?” it was almost inaudible and she saw him tilt his head to the side. “Oh, sorry, Hikaru. I thought- nothing, don’t worry,” she shook her head and gesticulated with her hands. “I really should sleep.”

“Hikaru was the best name you could have chosen. I really had an enlightenment in my life.” One step forward, one more, another, as he continued, “But giving it to me through the Traveler was not necessary. I would rather you had given it to me in person.”

He was there, close to her. Too close. She was petrified.

His irises seemed to glow in the dark. Threatening, smothering.

She did not know how or when, but she felt pressure on her arm, was pulled to the side, and the sound of something being broken echoed the room.

Her eyes settled on the nightstand, where her bag was no longer. Her lips began to tremble, her face to distort with fear, and her breathing became labored.

His foot was still on top of it, the VR inside shredded.

He knew. He knew her real name, about her.

Fuck! Fuck!

How was this possibile? How did he find out?! Did her presence really lead to this? She had been careful, avoiding anything that might spoil the plan. Really!

Realization kicked in and she stared at him, while his eyes had never left her and had watched her every facial change.

“You used my VR!”

“Is that what it is called? It is certainly a wonderful invention.” With his hand still holding her arm, he drew her to him, chests touching and faces a short distan apart. “It made me see your world. Our past.” She could feel his breath against her lips. “You don't know... how painful it was after you left me. Asahi, Niwa, you. I saw the darkness, and called your names. Yours especially.” His other arm went around her waist, pressing their bodies together as tightly as he could, ”I wanted your hugs, your caresses, your reassuring words. You were my support, my fixed thought. But after a while, I began to forget you, only you. Probably because you are connected to my world and can manipulate a few things. And I bet the stars and the sky are part of it, aren't they?”

She gulped, trying to push him away, but she couldn’t.

It was happening too fast, she couldn’t react. Her head was spinning, her pupils shaking.

“But I’m also aware of how what happened has worn you down. You tried to make things better, giving me a new rebirth.” He gave her a knowing lopsided smile, a sinister glint in his eyes, “Everything is okay, honey. Your suffering is coming to an end. You will be reborn with a new you. I promise.”

A flashback of her stroking his hair and humming a melody while he was in a coma popped into her mind. He had recited the same words she had said.

He had heard it all.

“I'm sure you didn't do it all by yourself. Someone helped you. But even knowing the current situation, Lesser Lord Kusanali did not act on it. I assume that no one can do anything if you are involved.” His hand left her arm, which fell dead weight, and moved towards her chin, cupping it, “Am I right, Clara?”

She coudn’t breathe.

Demanding, controlling, out of his mind.

“Am I right?”

She breathed out, “Yes.”

“It means no one can meddle between us. Is that correct again?”

“... Yes.”

His face lit up, a smile making her skin crawl.

He giggled, caressing her cheek. He placed his lips on her forehead, before cupping her cheeks and kissing her.

She was squeezing her eyes, paralyzed.

He nipped at her lip, causing her to flinch and taking advantage of this, he swept his tongue between her lips, tangling and tinkling their tongues together.   

He broke the kiss, staring at her with eyes filled with confirmed madness.

And hugged her. Her face against the crook of his neck.

“You’re such a good girl.”

The paradox was paralytic and finding a way out erased.

She realized that she had taken Nahida's words lightly.

But what could she have known? How could she have known that he would behave this way? These were not excuses! She could not have foreseen this!

But unconsciously she had believed that she would not arouse suspicion. Foolishly she had gotten too close.

And she had brought disaster with her.

Memories had surfaced that should not be there.

An unwanted insight into something that should not have been there.

He was so attached to her that his affection had transcended time and space, outclassing that betrayal and seeing the positive side of her redemption toward him that would also be projected onto her game, having a close connection between parallel and video game realities.

But she was the culprit. She had decided to test the waters by prolonging her stay in a place that was beginning to seem strange to her.

And she was paying the consequences. Willy-nilly.

[raven-feather-adrift]

“You wish to challenge me? Fine then. But this is solely because I am aware of your gaze upon my one and onl- ahem… Hat Guy. Yes.”

GREETINGS TRAVELERS!

it is I, the mod of this blog. This is my Genshin Impact OC Isarok.

Isarok - He/Him

Mod (Bailey) - He/Him

ANONS:

BLOGS WHO INTERACT (LOVE YALL):

DESCRIPTION:

Isarok is a tall, humanoid demon. He uses he/him pronouns and is male in appearance. He has extremely corpse-pale skin that is cold to the touch. He has black eyes tinted with green, black hair in a sort of messy wolf cut tied into a ponytail in the back, and two hairpins stabbed through said ponytail. His clothing consists of a black leather harness on his chest, baggy, dark gray pants, a sort of wrapping made of thick cloth material that wraps around his waist and comes down the backs and sides of his legs, and a various assortment of dark red ropes, spell tags, animal bones, necklaces, bells and rings. His feet are wrapped in white bandages. Half his torso is missing skin, showing exposed bone. He has cursed shackles on his neck, ankles, wrists and upper arms. He also has the occasional scar. He has black horns, pointy, upward-turning, elf-like ears, and abyssal corrosion over one part of his face, affecting one of his eyes and causing the skin and sclera to turn black. His nails are slightly long, sharp, and colored black. His tail consists of bone with a long feather at the end. A tattered cloth covers half his back, flowing from his shoulder to his mid-thigh. It covers two nasty scars that show where his wings used to be before they were forcefully removed by another.

CONCEPT SKETCH (SOON TO BE DIGITALIZED):

(Pose reference by @/mellon-soup)

VOICE CLAIM:

Currently unavailable!

INFO:

Isarok uses he/him pronouns.

Isarok goes by Isa for short with people he’s close to.

He cries a lot.

He’s over 2000 years old.

He has an Electro Vision and can switch between polearm (scythe) and a catalyst to fight.

His favorite color is green, but he also likes blue because it reminds him of a special someone.

He is an ex-harbinger who followed Scaramouche to Sumeru.

His loyalty was never to the Fatui, but rather to Scaramouche. There was no existing prompt for this, he just became extremely attached immediately. He’s very VERY in love with (both Scara and Wanderer - he fell in love again after Wanderer erased himself from Irminsul) but hates the idea of Scara loving him back, because in his mind, he is a filthy creature with tainted blood who doesn’t deserve Scara.

Just like a guard dog. Aggressive and agitated around those who dare provoke Hat Guy, but very cuddly, sweet and subdued in private.

On the run from the Fatui after leaving.

His body is currently rotting slowly, though he himself is immortal.

He’s chained to the mortal realm of Teyvat by his cursed shackles.

Doesn’t need to eat or sleep, like the adepti, but enjoys eating for the flavors.

Loves the forest, especially the dark, dingy parts.

Fascinated with bones, accessorizes with them, and has a collection.

autism at its peak

loves ravens in particular because of their intelligence and how drawn they are to him naturally.

LAYOUT:

“Isarok’s dialogue” will be in quotation marks and colored green.

Actions and narration will be italicized.

{Isarok’s thoughts} will be bolded and in brackets.

((Mod speaking)) will be in double parentheses.

TAGS:

♡ 𝕺𝖓𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 ♡ - interactions with Scaramouche/Wanderer

◑ 𝕽𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓’𝖘 𝕱𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖙 ◐ - Isarok yapping

⚣ 𝕰𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖉 ⚣ - Isarok x Scaramouche/Wanderer romantically

✮ 𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖞 ✮ - Isarok talking to another OC/character

✧ 𝕬𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓, 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 ✧ - blog promotion

♤ 𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌… ♤ - Isarok is away and mod is the one posting!

RULES:

Be respectful

Understand that mod is a student and will not put rp before his grades and well-being.

No romantic interaction UNLESS YOU ARE SCARA/WANDERER.

Flirting is allowed as long as it’s not too serious.

Curious anons are welcome!

Other OCs as well as canon characters are welcome!

Nothing sexual in rp. Freakaleeky jokes are allowed tho lmao

Specify if you’re talking to mod

DNI racists, sexists, homophobes, transphobes, radqueers, transmeds, radfems, NSFW/kink blogs.

Please don’t send fundraiser asks.

That’s all! Have fun with my boy!

Dividers by @cafekitsune - @elryisia - @sister-lucifer

Font from lingojam.com

Special emojis from coolsymbol.com

[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.

[eternadreeblissa]

[minttyghost]

OFFICIAL COMICS PART 5

Mei, wanderer, and Fanya prepare to go into Liyue. Mei, due to her difficult past in the region, had previously vowed to never return to Liyue. But she decides to go anyway in order to help her friend. Inazuma reopening caused trading from Sumeru and inazuma to return, however, the corps of thirty is limiting taking visitors to inazuma due to trade. Mei reluctantly heads into Liyue first, desperate to get this trip over with. Meanwhile, wanderer is endlessly amused by this new side of her, as he is used to Mei smiling a lot instead of being annoyed.

(Disclaimer: I use various references and inspiration for ALL my art. If this makes you uncomfortable, please block)

[diyahatnight]

Rich love - becoming a streamer

Scaramouche x gn reader!

prev - next

After your pretty purple haired “friend” finnished the dinner he made for the both of you, he put a plate down with some utensils beside it on the island in his kitchen, and then sits his plate next to yours. He pulled out a chair for you to sit in, which you did. Then he pulled out his chair and sat down.

You both started to eat. At this point this wasn’t even an at home dinner date, you two looked like a married couple on a regular saturday afternoon having dinner.

Trying to make a convo wasn’t really hard because for some odd reason he was so easy to talk to and in his mind you were pretty easy to talk too. That’s probably why you two became online friends in the first place, now becoming friends in real life (or more)

As you two were talking and eating he asks you “Do you remember how you said you might become a streamer?”

Your face stuffed with his delicious food you couldn’t respond immediately so with that you nod your head (yes).

“When you are finished eating do you want help setting up a stream and getting the feel of things?” You nod your head (yes) frantically.

You started to stuff your food down your throat quickly because you were excited, mainly to see what his stream room and eventually his bedroom looked like.

After you finished eating you asked him what you should do with your plate, and he takes it from you and places his and your plate down inside the sink.

He waves you on to follow him to his stream room after you wash your hands. Walking through his house you noticed how huge it was, much like yours but larger. That’s the son of the owner of the biggest modeling agency on the continent for you.

You assumed he lives alone in this large house, but you were kinda wrong. You were met by the the cutest little orange cat rubbing its self on your leg.

You stop in your tracks caught by this adorable little creature. “Aweee what’s its name? it’s so cuteee!”

He replies with “orange.”

You giggle quietly to yourself while picking up the orange kitty “I never thought you would be the type to give a goofy little name like that.”

“I didn’t name him, Childe did. We were out and he saw him so he wanted to take him home.”

“He lives here?” you say in a confused manner.

“yeah?”

“oh. For the long time i’ve known him i just assumed that he was rich and chose to be homeless and crashed at peoples houses…” You say while following behind him with the cat.

He reaches his stream room and opens the door to let you in first. (woah you say in your head) his stream room looks cooler in person.

He pulls up a chair next to his gaming chair for himself to sit, and you can sit in his chair. You take a seat inside his chair and you place the cat on your lap.

He reaches beside you and he starts typing away at his pc and aligning the camera next to it. You have no idea what he’s was doing, all you saw was a wait screen saying when the stream will start. He moves the mic closer to you and then he grabs a pair of headphones for himself. You see his stream comments already going crazy not even knowing he had a surprise guest.

And then the stream starts

not even 2 minutes in, his stream comments start going even more crazier than they were before when they saw you.

< What is y/n doing here?!!>

<This is a new sight.>

<HUHHH>

<y/n?!?!>

All you say is “hello!” with a sweet smile

“Y/n here is thinking of becoming a streamer to add onto their modeling and youtube career. To get them used the the streamer feeling, feel free to ask questions.”

As time goes on his stream is asking you questions and for a while you and Scaramouche sit there giggling and answering questions. Mostly you were giggling and every time you give a funny answer he would pop a small smile. You started getting interesting questions.

<how long have you known Scaramouche?>

“hmm, i think for about 3-2 years?”

<This one is for Scaramouche. Why are you so smiley towards y/n?>

“uhm.”

<Yeah! you look at them like you adore them.>

He sits there blankly with no response. He glances at you while you aren’t really paying attention because you are messing with the orange kitty that still has not left your lap.

Someone sent 5 bits reading <i’ll send 50 more bits if you answer truthfully.>

You look up to the sound “Answer what?” you say confused.

You look at Scaramouche and he shakes his head (nothing) “uhm anyway, they want to know what your favorite color is?”

“oh! hmmm i think it has to be purple! it’s such a pretty color.” You say that trying to get him to notice you, but he didn’t. Though, the chat noticed what you were trying to do and they are sitting there laughing.

“I think it’s time to end the stream. do you want to end it yourself?”

You nod and excitedly end the stream, you remember how to do it because Scaramouche showed you how to do it on facetime once.

“That was cool!”

“It’s pretty late, are you sure you want to go home at this time?” He honestly just wanted you to stay over.

“Is it really okay if i crash here?”

he nods (yes) “You can take my bed and i’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, i couldn’t do that to you. Do you not have a couple guest room’s?”

“I do, but they are all getting renovated right now.” he didn’t know why but he was sitting here lying to you because he just wanted you in his room.

You can’t lie to yourself, you also wanted to be in his room so you didn’t deny. He led you to his room and let you in.

“wow. you have a very cool room.”

“thanks.”

He went straight to his drawer to find you something to wear because you didn’t plan on staying the night. He grabbed you plaid pj pants and a white shirt to wear to sleep.

And there it was, you are now sleeping over at his house.

click Ask! to be removed from taglist

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Author’s notes

I literally wrote this entire episode in class. I write this stuff on my phone and sometimes my laptop. I look like a little gremlin hunched over writing this on my phone because I have bad posture. Then my brightness is all the way down so ppl don’t think im a weirdo. And my phone is on 11%.

Synopsis: You are a model and a Youtuber with no love life, you and Scaramouche who also has no love life have been friends for a while now because he’s also a model and a streamer. You sometimes join his stream to play random games with him but you never had the thought of dating him? Maybe instead of being friends you 2 were meant to be lovers? Just a guess.

Taglist- @eutopiastar @user11918163805279 @achy-boo @etherisy @xdrin @ittosfilipinogf @yukiipc @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @zomzomb1e @aikaxx @theblueblub @mitsu-moshi @sakiimeo @xirthia @nxsh30 @scaraapologist @beriiov @scaravibe @myaaones @mechanicalbeat1 @rizakari @aheartofmagic @eeeeeyyy @monaypo1 @lauilla @kylexzz @meowmeowmau @klanxii @nnasv @shiningflowerlady -need more

[ventismacchiato]

💌 i hope this doesnt find you !

a social media au | scaramouche x gender neutral reader

synopsis you were perfect on paper: school captain, one of the top students, cocaptain of the volleyball team, and a “pleasure to have in class.” it wasn’t easy to be such a model student, especially when you were competing against scaramouche, your rival since you both could barely talk. his competitive streak has annoyed you ever since you were kids, especially since you were working so hard to keep your scholarship while he flashed around his family’s money every other day. but the trick to keeping your sanity was to channel your frustrations into your email drafts. you’d never send them of course, the people pleaser in you would rather die than hurt someone’s feelings. all of your intensely worded emails were usually directed to scaramouche, your annoying cocaptain. you never have to hold back in your emails, because nobody will ever read them. that is, until they’re accidentally sent out. overnight your carefully crafted life is turned upside down now that everyone knows what you truly think of them. but amidst the chaos, there’s one person who grows to appreciate the real you: scaramouche, the only person you’ve sworn to hate. 

genre college au, enemies to lovers, academic rivals

warnings  time stamps don’t matter, characters including y/n are portrayed as young adults, mentions of alcohol, nsfw

notes read this novel with my friend and we couldn’t get out of our heads that the mc was scara, so here i am. title card tbd

taglist open! comment to be added, asks will be ignored

MEET OUR STUDENTS

COCAPTAINS -> YN | SCARAMOUCHE

ACT ONE

O1. O2. O3. O4. O5.

O6. O7. O8. O9. 1O.

ACT TWO

11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

16. 17. 18. 19. 20.

ACT THREE

21. 22. 23. 24. 25.

26. 27. 28. 29. 3O.

author’s notes i’m actually a huge whore for stories like this, love simon and tatbilb had such a chokehold on me and this is basically the enemies to lovers version of that. also i did track in highschool so i might change the sport to that idk yet

[niiine]

Clingy Scara just because he won't leave my brain alone

°DRABBLE°

It's not foreign for you to wake up at night as the need to use the bathroom arises. You gently removed the limbs tangled onto yours, careful not to wake your lover who's sleeping heavily beside you. It's a challenge, of course, because he has a deathly grip around your waist and his legs are knotted on yours. A solid ten minutes of featherlight wriggling (if that's possible) and you're finally free.

You tiptoed towards the comfort room, making sure that no noise will erupt that would disturb the sleeping man. Even the way you closed the door behind you is shy. A good five minutes have passed 'till you finished your business inside, carefully turning the door knob to minimize any sound. You're so determined to keep any clamor away—until you shrieked the very moment you've opened the door.

There, in front of you, in all his sleepy, annoyed glory, is SCARAMOUCHE. Scowl adorning his face as he muttered "you sure took your time there" all your hardship of keeping him asleep now thrown out of the window.

"Well you could've knocked you know." You stated, thinking that he needs to use the bathroom as well. You proceeds to drag your feet towards your shared bed. Not sparing the man another glance as drowsiness took over your form once again. Not until you heard a pair of feet following close behind, "Thought you gonna use the bathroom?" "No. Idiot. You just took so long so I check up on you" he whispered before yawning, dragging you back to the bed, snaking his arms around your waist once again and placing his legs in between yours. "Now I can go back to sleep"

You snuggled closer to his chest, letting yourself to fall into slumber—but not before you realized something. "So you're awake the whole time?!"

[scarameowzies]

If I have to suffer so does he.

[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.

[mello-bee]

the commissions i get are very serious!!

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