#wanderer drabble

[scarasimping]

wanderer x reader, fluff, wanderer unknowingly pining, hes bad at emotions its okay me too

note: so sorry for disappearing lovelies, have these wanderer crumbs as my apologies...not proofread im so sorry

wanderer, who cant seem to get you out of his head, thinks you put a curse on him of some sort.

something like this has never happened to him before. now, he's starting every morning wondering if you fragile human self remembered to eat breakfast. or if you like coffee or tea with your breakfast. or what your favorite food is. or if you would still feel comfortable eating with him around. or—

wait, why would he be around you while you're eating breakfast?? that would imply he spent the night there and why is he thinking about that??? hy is he even thinking about implementing himself in your life in the first place??

up until now, wanderer had simply talked with you because you were the only one around and weren't as annoying as anyone else. sometimes, you worked together because nahida asked you to accompany him on some mission. but that was it. he was sure he was always careful around you, and you wouldn't have time to put some spell on him that makes him want to wake up with you and eat breakfast together (even though he doesn't really eat. he'd probably just sit and watch you eat).

thats not all he's been thinking about either. some times he finds himself daysreaming about taking walks with you outside the sanctuary of surasthana, or what is it that makes that coy but knowing smile of yours appear on your face. what started the little habits that still present themselves in you now.

wanderer tries to do some digging on what kind of magic you used on him to make him start thinking about you so much, but all he gets is romance books and sappy poems about love. one time, he was forced to listen to some old doctor tell him about how he met and fell in love with his wife all because he went to see if what he was feeling was an illness instead.

wanderer who gives up trying to find out whats wrong with him on his own and, finally, asks nahida for help, because if she can't find anything then maybe it's hopeless.

all for her to tell him that he's not cursed or ill, he just cares about someone.

wanderer, now very confused, outright rejects the idea.

who cares if, now that the idea is in his head, he's wondering what you would do if he told you how he felt. or would you figure it out yourself without him even mentioning it. unfortunately, for a human, you were rather smart.

it doesn't matter that he's imagining you smiling brightly at him, or you leaning on his shoulder, or you trusting him enough to fall asleep in his lap, knowing he'll watch over you.

wanderer who now tries to avoid you, making it way too obvious and you notice it right away.

of course it's normal that he doesn't like being around people, but seeing him literally leave a room just because you, specifically, entered is a little worrying.

wanderer dodging your questions as you run after him, wondering what you did or if something happened, refusing to even look at you.

because when he finally does look at you and he sees that worried expression you have on your face, an unfamiliar pit in his stomach forms and he knows that nahida is right. that old doctor with his love story is right. all those stupid books and cheesy poems that made him gag were right.

wanderer cares about you and is stupidly, hopelessly in love with you. and he hates it.

[cecilxa]

peace at last

summary: scaramouche never considered himself to be changeable, until you came along

contents: fluff, flustered!scaramouche, softie!scaramouche, gn!reader, possible ooc (?)

cw: very small mentions of drinking, insecurities

recommend listening to : EVERYTHING by the black skirts

a/n: hi guys! 😍 thank you so so much for 300 followers, insane to me :) i've got some ideas for a special, nothing in the works as of yet (soon though, hopefully 🙏) any ideas, lmk!

Scaramouche never liked waking up in the morning. Or–more accurately–sleeping itself. He found it weak, the vulnerability that always came with it. Having to succumb to a darkness without knowing what was happening around you seemed foolish, even if he was tired out from a fight. Being a puppet meant that he needed less of it than a mortal, which–for once–made him somewhat glad of his creation. If he was in dire need of it, he would take all the necessary precautions. By which, he meant, becoming an extremely light sleeper. 

He would wake up multiple times in a night, sometimes drenched in sweat (although he’d rather not admit that he’d been having the same nightmare every time he’d managed to rest), from various noises. The chirping of a cricket, the hissing of a nearby stray, the incessant slurring of the drunks who still hadn’t managed to find their way home–Scaramouche’s hatred of sleep grew by leaps and bounds. And when the sun finally rose from its slumber, so too would his irritation.

But then he found out what it was like to sleep next to you. 

The first time you proposed that you share a bed, he vehemently denied anything even close to that, stating that beds were meant to be for one person only. You pointed out that those were single beds, and the one you were currently seated on was a double. He then argued back, saying he did not sleep, to which you again pointed out that you had seen him sleep multiple times. By this point, he had gone redder than you had ever seen him before, flush spread across his cheeks all the way down to his neck.

The thought of you trusting someone like him? It almost brought him to his knees. And it’s not like he didn’t want to; he’d go so far as to say that he craved it, longed for it. Because you trusting him so much that you’d put your ultimate weakness on full display, it almost made his heart explode. 

“Why?”

His voice sounded fragile, cautious. 

“Because you’re my lover. We’ve been dating for months; it’s a normal thing for couples to do. If not, that’s fine.”

Your voice sounded soft, understanding. His eyes met yours. And oh, how could he resist? 

“Fine. You’d pester me otherwise.”

A knowing smile crept onto your face as he struggled to contain a scoff. His blush still hadn’t gone away, and he hadn’t noticed that his hands were slightly shaking. All he could focus on were the palpitations of his thundering heart and the smile on your face that made it all worthwhile. 

He could never forget what it was like to sleep next to you for the first time. To hold you in his arms, although–could you even call it that? His arms were barely touching your body; he was too scared to cause even an unwanted imprint on your skin. But yours were around his waist, and he’d never felt so tense in his life. You laid there in that position for many minutes, and soon enough he could tell that you were slowly dozing off, your breaths slowing. Right before you did, you mumbled a tired goodnight, smiled up at him, and promptly went off to sleep. His breath hitched, and his arms tightened ever so slightly. 

He was grateful that you were asleep, because then you couldn’t hear his heart thumping at astronomical speeds. How did he manage to end up with someone like you? He scoffs, audibly this time. You’re so dumb. You manage to make him flustered without even knowing it. And he loves it. And he loves you. 

He kissed your forehead, letting it linger. 

“Goodnight.”

–

When Scaramouche woke up, he was greeted with your face, still sleeping. He hadn’t even noticed he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t woken up even once during his slumber, which startled him. The reason? You. It was you. Of course it was. Stupid, stupid you. This obvious realisation forced him to face the fact that, because you made him feel so safe, his body had not felt the need to wake up even once before what was a natural time. He felt something grow in his chest.

The sun was streaming through the window, casting a soft shadow over your face. It was still early, according to the clock on his wall, so the only noises he could hear were the sounds of birds chirping their songs. Everything was quiet. This was possibly the best morning he had had in a very long time. All because of you. 

Scaramouche thought that maybe he liked waking up in the morning.

a/n: can you tell i have a thing for tough guy with a soft side 😩 tysm for reading! likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💓💓

[wanderstarr]

𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

wanderer x gn! reader ; no use of y/n ; 5+1 things format ; mostly fluff and humour

DISCLAIMER: i have never written an academic thesis before, but oh well.

brief cw for a scene where reader and wanderer beat up a drunk man :) also, it's implied that wanderer once had a past baby crush on niwa :]

[[ ao3 || next ]]

It started with aggravated assault. You know, as most love stories do. In the Wanderer's defence, he didn't instigate it on purpose, for once. Not that Buer would accept the excuse should he tell her such, but it's about the principle of the thing, after all.

It was a regular day in Sumeru, bustling with merchants and travellers alike. Buer had sent him to fetch her Candied Ajilenakh Nuts from the Puspa Cafe. Well, in truth she had just mentioned in passing that she was running low on her favourite snack, but it's practically the same thing, if you asked the Wanderer. He would have ended up making the trip either way. So really, it was a perfectly reasonable excuse if he was acting just a bit more irritable that day, thank you very much.

The room smelled of charcoal and a warm sugary scent, assaulting his nose the moment he stepped foot inside the cafe. He never was a fan of sweets. His footsteps fell soft against the carpet floors, the sound drowned out by the gushing water fountain and the chatter of customers. The message board was chock full of nonsensical scribbles and adverts as per usual, papers fluttering gently, held in place by their push pins. 

As he stands in line to wait for his turn, he vaguely notes down the other patrons; most he did not recognise, but some did frequent the establishment enough for him to know them by name. There was Nayab, the laidback matra with an odd fixation on card game strategies. Iris, the sharp scholar who seemed intent on studying all things King Deshret. Izem, the weathered old man who took his coffee bitter, who was awkward in the prospect of a peaceful life. Of course, he only knew as much about these strangers thanks to the chatty nature of Sumeru locals, and his numerous errand runs involving Buer's sweet tooth.

When he finally reaches the counter, an unfamiliar face greets him instead of the acting manager. Come to think of it, he can't seem to spot Gata either. The new cashier, you, beamed politely at him.

"Good morning, what can I get for you?" 

"Candied Ajilenakh Nuts." He drops a hefty pouch of mora on the register.

You carefully tilt open the bag, counting the amount he'd given, and your eyes go wide at the sight. "That much?"

He nods. A spark of recognition flashes in your expression.

"Ah!" you snap your fingers, "Enteka mentioned you might pop up. Candied Ajilenakh Nuts, coming right up!"

Just what has the acting manager been telling her employees? Well, it wasn't his business to know, and you seemed decently competent at your job. So long as he got the stupid nuts.

He was watching you work while he waited, when the doors of the cafe burst open. 

"Eyyya..enteka!" A man stumbles in, face flushed in a sickly hue. His words slurred together into an incomprehensible mess. Great, a fucking drunkard.

He hears you mutter quietly under your breath. "Fucking drunkard." 

Huh. Good to know someone shared the sentiment.

"Entekaaaarghfh.. whereryou.." The man wobbles up to the register. The other customers pinched their nose as he passed by; he reeked of cheap alcohol and dry vomit. 

The Wanderer watched the drunk man wag a finger accusingly in your face. 

"Yergh.. You're not Een..theyka!"

"Unfortunate for you, no. You must be the nuisance from last night." you smile tightly. The Wanderer sees murder in your eyes. The drunk man, however, remained oblivious as ever. 

"Where.. where's she..?" the man swayed back and forth, craning his neck as if looking for the woman.

"That's none of your business." you stare him down. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave, sir."

And of course, because demanding drunk bastards are rarely ever cooperative by nature, the man slams a fist rather pathetically and starts to yell. Nonsense about being lied to, about being led on and calling Enteka all manners of names that weren't appropriate for a family friendly cafe. 

The Wanderer briefly considers intervening, but then you were all but leaping over the counter like a rabid dog, punting the man backwards with a heavy thwack. He, and everyone else in the cafe, stands frozen momentarily, bewildered by your sudden 180 from picture perfect employee to.. this.

"What the fuck?!" the man speaks clearer, sobered from the unexpected blow.

"That's for harassing my friend."

"I'll – hic – I'll fucken' report you!" 

"Go for it then, coward." you scoff, and point towards the door. "Go on, leave. Make your report."

The man shuffles his feet, indignant, and you turn your back to return behind the register, but then the asshole goes for a foul ambush, and the Wanderer watches you turning a split second too late, and–

He yanks the man back by his neck, hand closed tight. Anemo energy rushes to his fingertips in warning. The drunkard writhes in his grasp.

"Some of us have important things to be doing." he hisses, and lets the man drop to the floor. "Stop. You're an embarrassment to yourself."

You have your mouth agape, eyes blown wide from the attempted attack, but you snap out of it quick. As the man struggles to stand properly, you're already fisting the collar of his shirt, dragging him to the exit yourself.

The man bellows in a last ditch attempt at retaliation. "Is this how you treat your patrons?!"

"Oh, I don't actually work here!" you reply cheerily, glaring daggers at the manchild. "In no way do my actions reflect on the service quality of Puspa Cafe™!"

What.

"What??" 

"Bye now, you're banned by the way!" you chuck the man out onto the streets. An eremite from the corps of thirty seemed to appear from thin air, striding over to apprehend the man. You call out to the mercenary. "Thanks Rima!"

She nods back. "Nothing escapes my eyes."

You grin and shut the doors, turning to face the people in the room. "Sorry for the disturbance everyone, as you were!"

The customers relaxed, simmering back into their hushed chatter and quiet laughs. Whether they were grateful for your intervention or simply paralysed with bafflement, the Wanderer wasn't quite sure himself. You head back towards the counter, but pause in front of him.

"Thanks. For earlier." You dig the heel of your shoe into the carpet, somewhat sheepish. He catches the glint of a vision hanging delicately against your waist. He wonders briefly why you didn't use it earlier.

He huffs, looking away. "I just wanted the damn snack."

"Oh, right!" you gasp softly, snapping your fingers. "Oh archons I'm so sorry I'll get them right away."

True to your word, he has a large paper bag stuffed full of Candied Ajilenakh Nuts shoved into his hands within seconds. It smelled disgustingly sweet, just how Buer liked it.

"Thought you didn't work here." he comments.

"That's true, I don't!" you smile, and refuse to elaborate further. Not that he needed much explanation, he's guessed most of the story from your altercation with that drunkard. He supposes the acting manager would return to her work soon now.

He leaves, and thinks that would be the last he'd ever see of you. And if Buer commented  on his distant expression when he returned, then he's liable to the right to remain silent.

He's proven wrong that same evening, when he finds you lingering in front of the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

"You." he deadpans, because he can't quite think of anything else to say.

"Me." you beam, much more genuinely than the first time you smiled at him. You're carrying a large container in your hands. "Good to know I'm not forgettable after all."

"Hard to be with the stunt you pulled." he shakes his head. "What do you want?"

"Yeesh, Enteka wasn't kidding, you're a real grump. Here." you gesture to the box you were holding. "Figured I owed a proper thank you."

He looks at the thing warily. "You're not trying to poison Lesser Lord Kusanali through me, are you?"

You laugh. "Oh yeah. Totally, I'm attempting to harm an archon and her aide via homemade Havalmadz."

He raises a brow. "Considering it's Lesser Lord Kusanali's favourite dish, it's plausible, you know. That's just more suspicious, idiot."

"Wait, really?" you squawk, looking genuinely flustered. "I assumed.. shit, I thought the Haval addict here was you."

You started to ramble your apologies. As amusing as it was, he wasn't that much of a sadist as people would believe. He sighs and takes the gift from your hands.

"Wait–wait, you actually want that?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Buer would certainly want it. He didn't indulge in eating as much, but you didn't need to know that. "...thanks too, I guess."

You blink once, twice, and your lips spit into a blinding grin, eyes crinkled in joy. The Wanderer feels his grip falter momentarily at the sight.

"See you around then!"

You leave, and he's left with ringing ears and a flutter in his chest and oh fuck no he was not going to go through this again. He blasts himself in the face with anemo, leaving his hair swept back and his hat skewered wrong. Snap out of it.

He wasn't dumb. He's felt this ridiculous emotion before, back when Niwa would hold their hands together in unfamiliar places, back when Niwa taught him in his gentle voice, back when.. 

Back when Niwa was alive. 

He didn't know what it meant, back then. The feeling. Not that it made any difference, he was over it now, and all he can do is make peace with his loss. The loss of a companion dear to him, one of many.

Such was his curse, to lose the things he loved infinitely, watching them succumb to their mortality over and over through time. Such was his burden as an immortal puppet.

He clutches the Havalmadz in his arms. He's got Buer now, he supposes. A wise and intelligent conversational partner, an archon whom he was proud to assist, frivolous errands aside. He had his papers, his accidental academic career in the Vahumana Darshan. He had his awkward somewhat acquaintanceships with those people from the Interdarshan Championship, crazy event that it was.

Realistically, it was enough to fulfill him. He had no need for unexpected variables. He had plenty of things for himself now, plenty of theses to write.

In fact, he thinks as he retreats into the sanctuary, he'll write a thesis on exactly why he shouldn't involve himself any further with you, comprising the points he'd spontaneously thought of and will continue to think of. An antithesis, if you will (Archons, he should stop hanging around that Mahamatra). He'd like to think he was a man of reason, after everything he's been through.

Buer greets him from the centre of the room, her favourite spot to ponder.

"Hello, Hat Guy. You look like you had fun." She smiles serenely, though her eyes sparkle with delight.

He's stopped trying to get Buer to call him anything else at this point. He ignores the comment, and instead holds out the Havalmadz.

"Someone sent this for you." he says simply, but he knew Buer could read between the lines. He's heard that parents often have an instinct for that–not that he sees her as a parent or anything. She thanks him happily, and doesn't point anything out, to his relief.

He'll surely get over his fascination with you soon.

©wanderstarr..!!

to be cross posted on ao3! later bc its like 1 am rn and im tjred. i'll probably need to edit this later. this got too long to be a oneshot, but it's much shorter than what i have planned for the android scara fic. just a little something to get me out of writer's block, bc i love describing fantasy settings hehe. still working out how to make aesthetic tumblr fic posts,, enjoy!

[reixtsu]

Wanderer x guitar player reader Drabble!

Wanderer secretly admired the fact that you were so skilled with the art of playing guitar.

Whether it's fingerstyle, tapping, or traditional strumming, he found each style enchanting. The graceful dance of fingers plucking at strings, creating a subtle melody as the guitar vibrates beneath your fingertips. The distant yet majestic aura you carried. An aura of both distance and majesty accompanied by a faint glimmer in your eyes as you hummed a tune in harmony with the guitar's melody.

It was all mesmerizing. A tune calming his core.

Not that he would admit it. At least, not out loud

[wecky]

love bubble

ᵔᴗᵔ . . title : 𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘆 ! modern

ᴖ.ᴖ . . cont. : f!reader ⁝ wc. 1.2k ⁝ reblog

ᵔᴗᵔ . . tl;dr : self-explanatory

𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗸𝘂𝘇𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶 [𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿]

“stop it,” he gripes, his eyes draw shut in exasperation over your incessant calling for a silver of his attention. you could be such a glutton for him, he huffs, although flattered.

he already, and begrudgingly, allowed you to sit snug on his lap whilst he watched this documentary on the television to ail his boredom. what more do you want?

he sends you a half-hearted glare. however, as anticipated, it did little to discourage you. in reality, it only fueled you to behave the way you did.

“stop what, babe? i‘m just trying to love you.” you frown, full of hope it’d entice him to indulge in your desire to be petted with his affection. it didn’t, so you continue to stare at him…

longingly.

his eyes; his lips; then his cheeks… you’d never dare tell him about it, but he looks cute when he was super, duper focused. he had a habit of scrunching his nose and pouting, as if to make a tiny show of how concentrated he was at the moment. he looks very cute, you thought, very, very cute—cute enough to bite!

adjusting your sitting position, you receive a tiny scowl from your dear boyfriend, who was growing more and more distracted by the minute. you purse your lips up at him for a kiss and he rolls his eyes at you in return. despite his steady snubbing, you know he was pleased to see you pine for him.

how can you not? him and his cheeks!

and before you know it, your hand travels to cup his face. he didn’t seem to mind it at all. in fact, he responds quite nicely, nuzzling against your palm. it wasn’t until you, oh, so lovingly decided to pinch him did it finally elicit any sort of a reaction from him.

albeit tricky, it was definitely worth it. his cheeks look really squishy from your perspective and you couldn’t help yourself at all. hence, it comes to no surprise when you had insisted on pinching him like a makeshift stress ball. squish. squish. squish.

“can you get off me? you’re seriously getting on my nerves,” kunikuzushi snaps, as he bats your hand away rather weakly and impassively, like he can barely trouble himself to put an actual stop at your antics.

his cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink from your shameless display of affection. it was embarrassing! he insists, and yet here he was basking in your desperation anyway.

“i-i don’t want to!” you cling onto him tighter. if you were to go further, you would’ve crushed his esophagus.

he has half a mind to give you an earful for your immaturity when you didn’t waste a second to hide your face in his neck. he was contemplating on not letting this slide. that is until it flees from his mind once your lips press featherlight pecks on his skin

he was fine with it at first, long-familiar with your clinginess. though, his mood dramatically shifts after you start nipping at his skin to leave faint marks here and there. 

are you crazy? he did nothing to have you behave this way, kunikuzushi huffs. 

pressing pause on the remote, his other hand stops you by cradling your face. he smooshes your cheeks together and it made you look like a fish.

“alright, knock it off. this isn’t funny! are you deaf or s—OW! did you… bite me?” he glances at his hand then at your face and he was absolutely dumbfounded.

“i’ll do it again!”

burying your face in the crook of his neck, you know he’d do something if he was truly bothered.

“whatever… just let me finish the damn documentary.”

𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶 [𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿]

“knock, knock!”

a tiny smile upturns his lips after he caught the echo of your voice calling him from the other side. it was intriguing when he didn’t show much emotion around others yet the smallest hint of your presence makes a difference, pulling a smile or softening his gaze. however, it fades away when he recalls he was in the middle of a video call.

damn it, tighnari huffs. turning off both his microphone and video, he spins his chair to face the door. “come in.”

he may not say it often but he appreciates all your efforts to check on him or take care of him. whether it be a casual “hi, whaddya doing?” or surprising him with a homemade meal, he cherished every bit of it either way.

although he never asked, you do it anyway and it warms his heart.

the door creaked open and your lovely self came into view a second later. “so… how’s the bestest boyfriend in the entire world doing today?” you greet with a charming smile, finally stepping p foot inside the room.

bestest wasn’t a real word but god, you are so cute.

you don the frilly apron you use whenever you cook or bake; in the palm of your hands lies a wooden tray of food—lunch, he guesses. the sight in front of him stinks of domesticity, it willed butterflies to skitter in his stomach.

“work as usual. nothing new.”

“great! you should take a break ‘cuz look at what i cooked!” you make a great show of the savory meal before him.

although unquestionably restless when things don’t go your way, you respected his plans to finish his meeting before he sacrifices his time to dote on you. placing the tray on a vacant spot on his desk, he stuns you by wasting no time in pulling you to sit on his lap sideways.

the sound of your gasp was music to his ears, the corner of his mouth quirks into a lopsided smile. it urges him to push through and fulfill the leftover minutes of this meeting. you, on the other hand, do what you did best: be clingy.

you occupy yourself by playing with his hair, wringing a thin strand around your finger until your eyes fixate on his green streaks. sectioning it off from the majority of his dark locks, you admire how well it sharpens his features.

he looks so handsome! …but at what cost? his soft cheeks. you frown, hands falling to cup his soft cheeks instead. your thumb grazes against his skin. going further, you sneak in a couple tender pinches.

so fluffy! you muse.

tighnari, who long discarded his intentions to work, basks in your touch. he could never get enough of you. his gaze trails along your every movement, wondering what was coursing through that pretty head of yours. what can you be thinking about? was it about him?

“you need to get a haircut.”

“do i?” he didn’t know it, but his tone lightens whenever it’s directed at you and thanks to the almost nonexistent space in between your bodies, it came across a whisper.

“yep! i can trim it for you later if you want?”

“whatever you say, darling.” tighnari nods, bewitched in the feeling of you gingerly tucking his hair behind his ears. he leans into your touch, prompting you both to silently bask in one another’s company—as if the outside world didn’t exist.

“um, sir? your camera is on.” collei’s shy voice rings through his laptop and you and your boyfriend flinch at the intrusion on your love bubble.

“shit.”

[anantaru]

— flavored chapstick challenge

synopsis. you put on different chapsticks and make your boyfriend guess the flavor <3

including. alhaitham, venti, scaramouche

genre. making out & slightly suggestive, fluff, gn! reader

— alhaitham

as was expected from somebody like the scribe himself, the moment you have challenged your boyfriend alhaitham to such witty game, he, in return, will take it serious, extremely grave to the point where the more actual reason as to why you wanted to play this game in the first place, went straight down the drain.

notwithstanding the fact that such was the case now, the man will always kiss you slowly and passionately, each time, introducing you to how it felt when time froze, whenever he pressed his lips on you.

naturally, to savor the artificial taste on his mouth, he tenderly swipes the tip of his tongue over your bottom lip and hums, then breaths in as glitter and a faint rosy tone was sticking all over his mouth.

alhaitham opens his eyes and watches you struggling weakly at him.

you're holding yourself close to your boyfriend now, both hands around his neck, watching him with flustered cheeks and stars hidden behind your eyes, greeting him with your precious gaze.

alhaitham blinks and found himself holding the eye contact longer, his lips pressing together to voice a deep, low, pleading tone;

"sunsettia, i assume?" he whispers, almost cruelly, staring at your wet lips and like he didn't just tease the living hell out of you.

yet not so fast, since truth must be served in alhaitham's eyes— following his answer he assured you that in order for him to be truly certain, one hundred percent, he needed to repeat that kiss once again, that exact one, maybe use his tongue a little more while he was at it.

— venti

venti simply takes every opportunity to just kiss you while ignoring the entire purpose of the game, even once asking you about the rules again— this isn't him feigning innocence, or is it now?

ah well, you know your boyfriend pretty well, correct? it's not like he doesn't understand what the chapstick challenge was, in fact, when you proposed the idea to him, the anemo archon was utterly delighted, all impulses of soul and senses numbed when he started to become excited about it.

in a tizzy as he was, one of his most beloved hobbies was the secret art in teasing you, not to forget edging you on and playing sweet, miniature tricks on you while adoring the annoyed tone on your pretty expression.

venti gently props up your face with his hand before leaning in, his gentle dreams long subdued when he faces reality. you let yourself slit into his embrace when he begins to kiss your bottom lip, nibbling on the wet skin before tilting his head to let his tongue inside.

you felt malleable, as if all your troubles and worries simply had melted like snow in the sun, trickling away into pure nothingness— and ugh, he did it once again, making you forget about the game as well.

instead of saying something, you resort to letting yourself drift into his warmth, stroking one hand into his tousled hair before tenderly clashing your tongue against his own— yet before you knew it, venti was senseless once again, abruptly pulling away red-cheeked, "hehe, it's valberry, isn't it?"

��� scaramouche

sometimes you wonder if scaramouche genuinely believes that you cannot pick up on what his secret plans are, especially when it came to a game you, in fact, controlled.

you were aware of your boyfriend and on how smart he was, not to mention knowledgable— so why, out of the blue, he pretends to not get the flavor right, even worse, not a single one was guessed correctly the entire day.

come on now, he clearly knows the answer, look at his handsome face blushed with love and that awfully sweet smirk plastered all over his lips, attached with residue of your chapsticks showing a little glitter on his face.

scaramouche was getting more clumsy the more chapsticks you tried out, even swallowing down the first two letters of the real answer before messily uttering the complete opposite.

perhaps, he believes you kiss all the grief and longing away from his flesh, and so this is why he wants to kiss you more, or make you kiss him instead— see it this way, he doesn't need to say it out loud and embarrass himself, despite his progress in trusting the people around him, scaramouche found himself struggling regardless.

even so, all his thoughts, all his passions, all his delights, whatever you stirred enclosed by his immortal frame, he refers to it as a bubble of love, and your touch alone calms his fiery flame within a dark spot in his body.

with gentleness crossing paths in your view, you admire kuni and purse your lips, remaining silent as his mind was long since lulled into soft calmness.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[sixosix]

wanderer can fly; you cannot. he makes it his problem.

“What? Giving up already?”

“Shut—” heaving, you barely have the energy to flip him off, “shut the fuck up. Fuck off.”

Wanderer chuckles, all low and mean, as if his entire purpose in life is to ridicule you. He continues ascending overhead, moving and looking like an angel, but the words that come out of his mouth are far from angelic. “Careful, now. I know you overestimate yourself, but I won’t save you if you continue to scale a mountain with one hand.”

“Stop agitating me on purpose then!” You nearly slip from the intensity of your yell, but thankfully, it isn’t your time yet.

“How can I? You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Grumbling, you focus back on the mountain. Cute when mad. He must think he’s goddamn adorable, then.

You’re starting to lose sight of dents or protruding surfaces to get a hold of, and the mountain is getting steeper. You curse under your breath. If only you had Geo or Dendro—that’d help a lot much more. Maybe even Anemo, but that would be admitting defeat to the man who’s currently watching you intently.

Wanderer scoffs when your breath hitches, the surface you’re holding onto crumbling. He descends until you’re eye level. “Idiot, I told you that it’d be safer if we didn’t climb this all the way.”

“I know my limit.” Maybe. You may or may not have gotten a little over-competitive and jumped a few times, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

“Not more than I do,” he says.

“Don’t say it like that, weirdo.” You appraise the mountain overhead and, with a sunken stomach, realize that he’s right. There’s still a long way to go, and it’s a long fall back.

“Damn,” you say. You turn to Wanderer and blink up at him with wide eyes, hoping he would take the hint without having to say it outright.

Wanderer sighs, holding out his arms. “Jump.”

“Are you serious?”

“I won’t let you fall—of course I’m fucking serious.”

You grit your teeth, wondering if it’s easier to humiliate yourself and jump into his arms or to let gravity do its work.

“Hey,” Wanderer says, gliding closer and hovering an arm behind your waist. “No stupid ideas. Just jump and hold onto me.”

It’s always unsettling when Wanderer is not acting all bratty, like you’re not quite sure if you should goad him back to being mean or watch him bristle when you point it out. It’s been happening too often recently. That must be saying something about him if his soft moments are scarier than his jabs.

Wordlessly, you reach out for his shoulder with one hand and hold back a yelp when the lack of balance causes you to slip. You hold on tight around his neck, eyes wide and heart jittery. Wanderer secures his arms, moving in one swift motion. Before you even know it, he has one arm on your back and the other under your knees.

“How convenient it must be to have a ride as your companion,” Wanderer mutters in amusement at your relieved face.

“Yeah. That’s why I keep you around,” you say as he glides upward, barely straining from your weight. He looks as unaffected as ever.

He looks as infuriatingly and devastatingly beautiful as ever.

“Ha,” his smile is all sharp, “and not because you have a little crush on me?”

“You follow me around because you do. Don’t get it twisted.”

He snorts, tipping on something a little more genuine. You wisely decide to stop ogling at his face and enjoy the view of the sky instead. The blue of his clothes and the shade of his eyes are much prettier, but you’d rather lose that than start squirming in his arms. Not when he’s carrying you bridal style and all.

Finally, he descends, hardly disturbing the grass with his grace. He sets you down, arms crossed, as you pat yourself off from dirt and stuff.

“Well?”

You eye him warily. “What do you want?”

“Some semblance of manners will do,” he says, then leans close as if he’s baring his face for you. He’s been less and less subtle recently, too.

Nonetheless, you find yourself smiling. The things he’d do just to get a kiss—it nearly makes you laugh out loud. But then he’d start getting all irritated like a cat, and you much prefer when he’s sweet like this. Sweet in his very Wanderer way, you mean.

You kiss him on the cheek. He puffs up like some proud peacock. He calls you adorable all the time, but he’s the one who’s acting like this. It’s no wonder you keep him around.

[staryuee]

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[reshinless]

Do u write for wanderer? If u do can I request him praising us while fucking us really roughly?? I love ur works btw

at first he isn't used to not degrading someone. so when he heard it from you yourself that you hated being degraded, and preferred praise, it was definitely gonna be a little hard for him.

he definitely tries to tell you he's proud and stuff even outside of intercourse. but most of all during sex.

you could be in the craziest position wherein he has a grasp of your hair in his very palm, holding your hair back to he can take a look at how good his Dick greats you—he spits out a "nngh- doin' s'good for me.."

you couldn't lie that you were shocked, or surprised, but that didn't mean your hole didn't throb hearing his words of praise.

you could feel yourself get turned on every word that spilled out his mouth, fuck this was honestly your first time hearing him try to praise you.

"ohh- fffuck this hole is mine, right? ssshit... only f'me, right? be a good pet and say yes..." you wish you could reply, your incoherent babbles, washed out by moans of pleasure.

his cock pumped into you with pride, yet he let his own down to make you feel comfortable, feeling your deepest parts.

his fingertips, soft and fast, over your stomach to feel the bit of him inside you. kissing you from your cheek to your neck and downwards.

he spread your legs out, watching how your hole stretched out to take him in. you could feel it kiss you inside and feel his lips peck on you out.

but the way you reacted to his simple words, your pleasure was his priority (his own being a close second), he was definitely going to praise you more than normal now, in intercourse at least.

he traced the rim of your entrance before whispering sultry cries into your ears of how well you took him. describing the way you felt, fuck he could feel you clench on his cock again.

he holds your waist, causing crescent-like marks onto the softness of your torso.

he wants to keep you like this forever, wanted to fuck you forever but unfortunately stopping time to stay like this couldn't be done.

he flips you over onto your stomach, lifting your ass onto the air, caressing your hips before rudely entering inside. you swear it wasn't this slippery earlier!!

"h- haah, s'wet.. s'tight.. ffffuck..." he groaned right next to your ear.

this is gonna be a real long night.

[chrollogy]

SFW; fluff ><, scara uses a term of endearment for the very first time which catches you off guard, implied established relationship, pet names mentioned. divider: cafekitsune.

── it wasn’t foreign to not receive terms of endearments from scaramouche—it was simple, really. he’d rather just call you by your name. you asked him about it once to which he flatly replied with ‘it’s a silly thing for silly humans.’ and you left it at that, of course not without a pout thrown his way but more times than not, you’ve always wondered how pet names rolled off his tongue, how they sounded with his dulcet voice, though, the biggest question in your mind was: what would scaramouche even call you?

given his personality, he definitely excelled in colourful derogatory nicknames when it came to enemies or people that lacked basic common sense, though, those words were never directed at you. of course, you’ve asked scaramouche to at least try calling you something, even a simple ‘baby’ would suffice but all you were met with was an unamused grumble before walking away, clearly he was more flustered than he let on.

you stared at your boyfriend across the wooden study table, a serene expression painted on his handsome face, his amethyst gaze slowly followed the inked sentences across each page of the book. the house of daena was filled with low murmurs from other students, and researchers, sounds of pages turning every now, and then turned into a calming melody.

bored, you let out an audible huff which not only gained scaramouche’s attention but also from other students in your vicinity, “i’m so bored.” scaramouche simply turned another page from his book before replying, “last time i checked, you have an assignment due tonight.” you didn’t bother replying, instead, poking your tongue out at him despite his eyes glued to the pages.

not wanting to let this conversation go to waste, you spoke up again, “what do you think are the chances of me failing this assignment?”

scaramouche didn’t reply, not even having the heart to lift his gaze towards you. he knew what you were doing, making pointless conversation just to satiate your boredom, unfortunately for you, he actually had matters to tend to, and supposedly, so did you. scaramouche knew better than to engage in your silliness.

oh, but you were determined to get his attention.

“not even going to speak to me? how mean,” you feigned hurt, dramatically placing a palm over your chest even though he wasn’t looking.

“heeeeeeeey, don’t ignore me.”

this carried on for a few more seconds, calling out to scaramouche with a hushed tone but to no avail, his expression remained indifferent, still focused on the task at hand—definitely an expert at tuning out your silly antics, you had to give it to him.

“hat guy.”

scaramouche let out an annoyed sigh, it was a silly name that other students at the akademiya called him, he wasn’t fond of it but he didn’t necessarily despise the name—he just wished others had the creativity to at least give him a better one. nonetheless, you successfully gained his attention, a celebratory smile crept up your face.

you watched as scaramouche closed the book with a light thud before turning his sole attention to you, with an annoyed huff, he spoke, “yes, my love?”

your eyes widened, the smile you wore seconds ago unceremoniously falling off your face, heat blossomed from your chest, kissing its way up the column of your neck, and onto your cheeks. my love. were you hearing things right? did scaramouche just call you my love? you weren’t dreaming, were you?

he snickered at your unexplainable expression, brows knitted, and amethyst narrowed at you, “cat got your tongue now? you were just begging for my attention seconds ago—”

scaramouche cut his sentence short upon realising the words that slipped past his lips mere seconds earlier. oh. that was definitely not meant to come out. he clicked his tongue before looking off to the side, to avoid your wide-eyed stare. he hated that expression (not really), how it was able to bring out such humanly emotions from him, how it rendered him completely speechless.

you held the cosmos in your eyes, and scaramouche thought you were the most beautiful person in all of teyvat.

crossing his arms over his chest, he closed his eyes, and let out another annoyed sigh, “what? now that i’m finally giving you a pet name, you’re not even going to acknowledge it?” scaramouche clicked his tongue once again but didn’t dare meet your gaze.

“no, no. it’s just that . .” you trailed off, still trying to process his words.

my love.

you smiled, letting out a soft chuckle, “my love, huh? you’re adorable, did you know that?” this earned another grumble from scaramouche, paired with a roll of his eyes,

“i’m taking it back.” “you don’t mean that.”

he didn’t at all. in fact, my love was what he had been wanting to call you since then but he just didn’t have the guts to—it made scaramouche feel all weird inside whenever he imagined a scenario where he’d say it to you. he guessed there were consequences for keeping such thoughts to himself, seeing as how it accidentally rolled off his tongue.

though, the words felt oddly natural. like it was meant to be.

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

[yandere-daydreams]

Black Cat!Wanderer, who you find in an alleyway behind your apartment complex, badly bruised and barely conscious. He's poorly dressed, even for a hybrid, shivering and deathly pale, but he still finds the strength to snap at you as you approach him. You have to bribe him with fish you can't afford and a blanket nicer than anything you'd buy for yourself before he lets you so much as touch him, and even then, he's quick to growl and tell you to get away from him as soon as you try to pet him. He's a temperamental kitten, but considering the state he's in, you can't say you blame him for being so defensive.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who lets himself into your apartment after a few weeks of alleyway visits and offered meals. He doesn't scratch at your door or ask to come in. You find him splayed out on your couch when you get home, muttering that it'd been too long since the last time he saw you and scowling into a clawed-up pillow. He still comes and goes as he pleases (you wouldn't try to keep a hybrid so clearly used to being on his own contained), but he spends most of his time curled up on your bed or trailing after you around the house, still pretending he'd rather be anywhere on earth other than in your lap. He says that you're just like every other human, that he only hangs around you for the food and a warm place to sleep, but the way he purrs when you scratch at his ears says otherwise.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't just visit you at home, either. He always seemed to ""coincidentally"" be passing by your office just in time to walk you home from work, and doesn't seem to consider a quick grocery run or shopping trip to be a good enough excuse to get rid of him. You're lucky he's a cat, rather than something bigger, something more difficult to pass off whenever he follows you into a cafe or bodega. He's lucky that he's so cute, or else you might call his bluff and start treating him like the housecat he won't admit he wants to be.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't know that you know he likes to cuddle up to you while you're asleep. Most of the time, he'll wait until you go to bed properly before curling up against your side, but you've found him laid out on top of you after passing out on your tiny couch, fast asleep despite his best efforts to always scurry away before you notice he's there. You never considered yourself a catperson before you met him, but god, sometimes you feel like you could spend the rest of your life fawning over your shy little alley cat.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who's been with you long enough to be hyper-aware that there are people - humans, nonetheless - you'd rather spend time with than him. He doesn't need your attention, he doesn't need you, but he's not going to lose you to a human, either - not when you're the only person he can stand to be around.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who might just be a cat but still has teeth and claws as sharp as any predator. Following the coworker you've mentioned just a few too many times home is child's play, and it only takes a few seconds to drag his claws across their throat, to dig his teeth into their jugular and shut them up before they can scream. It's just like killing a rat, something you've praised him for a thousand times, even if he still cringes when the taste of iron hits his tongue.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who spent enough time as a stray to know the best places to put something he doesn't want anyone else to find. The body is dropped into a gutter with a loose grate, the blood washed off of his face in a relatively clean drainage canal. He's home by sunrise, and he can't control the way his chest rumbles as he slots himself against your side - happier than he's ever been before.

Black Cat!Wanderer, who'd do anything to make himself the center of your little world.

[iceunhie]

indirect kiss moments !

summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....

featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham

notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)

WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working

wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.

why, you ask? it's all because of you.

he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.

all because of a damn indirect kiss.

his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.

it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—

….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.

if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.

[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.

you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]

KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)

kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.

it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.

…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.

small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.

perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?

oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.

[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.

the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]

[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.

[maehemthemisfit]

THINKING ABOUT HOW...

Whenever you lay on TIGHNARI'S lap, his tail always seems to end up resting over your neck. It smells good from all the oils he lathers on it, and it keeps you warm. He likes when you card your fingers through his fur, it's calming, and whenever you stop he immediately knows the battle to keep your eyes open was lost to slumber. More often then not, you'll wake up to his tail tickling your chin or just straight up smacking you in the face. Sometimes it's intentional, but it's more like a pillow being thrown in your face.

KAZUHA would always be prepared if you ever experienced sea sickness in his travels, teyvat's equivalent of ginger ale and crackers quite literally on deck. He'll hold your hair back if you ever throw up and brew you herbal teas to drive the nausea away. He'll also rub comforting circles on your stomach if you give him permission, kissing away the pain and reassuring that you'll reach land soon.

If you're insistent enough, CYNO would let you play in his hair. His job is quite stressful, so feeling your fingers glide through his hair would literally put him to sleep most times. He might leave a braid or two you made in his hair and play with it whenever he thinks about you. He'll also show it off to Tighnari.

XIAO can't help but hide his face whenever you trace the markings on his arm or stomach (it's canon idc). He questions why you find the act so amusing and when you pull away he instinctively pulls your hand back, then becomes all bashful when he realized what he did. Is quick to urge you to continue and say "W-Why you'd stop? I never said I was against it..." Or something along those lines.

The Aranaras are always dancing around WANDERER no matter the occasion. They're always on his heel and you often spot him running away from a group of them, "Quit following me!" Leaving his lips. It's hilarious. He'll invite you for some tea and one of them would be perched on his head with that dopey smile :] He's exhausted, but he's secretly fond of them, especially the one you said looked similar to him (the blue one with the pretty hat), though he'll never admit it.

𓋜 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *

[wanderstarr]

𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝐈 ‧₊˚✩彡

wanderer x gn! reader

[[ prologue || ao3 || next ]]

'A HYPERSPECIFIC CASE ANALYSIS ON INTERSPECIES RELATIONSHIPS AND THEIR INHERENT INCOMPATIBILITY : A GROUNDED THEORY STUDY'

The Wanderer tapped his pen against the table. The title was very persuasive in its own right, if he did say so himself. Still, he would need convincing points to support his claim. Curse the Vahumana pricks for drilling this damn process into his head. He starts to map out his arguments in inky script.

His hands practically glide across the piece of paper, leaving neatly scrawled loops in its wake.

A list of reasons to deny his wavering inhibitions.

1. You were a puppeteer. 

That in itself should have been an omen, given the nature of his existence. How foolish would it be of him, to be abandoned by a creator of puppets twice? To be fair, he didn't quite know this little fact about you until the second time he met you.

The Zubayr Theatre. Scholar he may be, but the allure of a stage had always caught his eye, even when his memories were incomplete. He did have a penchant for theatrical names, after all, in his past incarnations. Still, he never took the initiative to go near of his own volition. As often as he visited the Grand Bazaar, he usually stayed a good distance away from that corner of the market.

He finds himself hovering from a distance, again, when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. You, waddling in front of the Zubayr stage with a comically tall stack of fabric in your arms blocking your view.

In any other case, he would have minded his own business. Hah, he should have minded his own business, even in this case. But his legs seemed to move faster than his mind could process it, and next thing he knew he was by your side, swiping a good chunk of the fabric from your grasp so you could actually see.

"Wh-HEY!.." you whip around at him, and he catches a glimpse of your vision aglow as bright as your glare, but it fades away when you look at him. "You!"

"Me." he says in reply. He casually rearranges the fabric he'd grabbed into a neater pile.

You look at him funny, and your confusion melts into a warm smile. You seem to do that often, shaking off confusion like the morning dew rolls off a leaf. 

You laugh quietly, nudging him in his ribs. "Aren't you such a gentleman, always helping me out?"

He scoffs, turning his face away from you. "Not my fault you're always in need of help when I'm around. I'm not an asshole, you know."

"Could've fooled me, Hat Guy."

He cringes. "..who told you that name?"

You laugh again, gleefully. "Didn't know you were so popular around here. Y'know, outside of the whole Archon's Right Hand Man you got going for you."

"I'm just making the most of what I'm capable of." he huffs. "If people find it such an interesting topic, then that's their problem."

"It's admirable." you grin. "You're amazing."

His knees almost shake for just a split second. He coughs awkwardly, and hides behind the shade of his hat.

"Flattery won't get you any extra favours." he says, and starts to walk.

You chase after him, and fall into step by his side. "Oh? But you're doing me a favour now. Checkmate."

"I won't hesitate to drop all this back onto you."

He wouldn't, he thinks.

"You wouldn't," you laugh.

Damn it.

He asks you a question in lieu of a reply. "In any case, isn't it unfair that you get to know my name?"

A roundabout way to ask for yours.

"Hm, is it?" you glance at him cheekily. "But I think I earned that knowledge fair and square, after all the asking around I did."

His brows furrowed in thought, and he felt a tug in the corner of his lips. "You asked about me?"

This time, you're the one whose footsteps stutter, looking at anywhere but him. Part of him takes glee in knowing he could have the same affect on you as you did on him.

"W-well," you clear your throat, "I was just.. you could call it getting to know my new home. Yeah, that!"

He would tease you more, but his greedy mind grabbed at the chance of learning something about you. "New? You're not from around here?"

"I've travelled around so much I can barely remember where I'm from," you shrugged. "But yeah, I'm finally settling down here."

"I see."

"Yeah." you nod. "I met Enteka last night, and when I helped her out with that psycho guy, she offered to introduce me to Nilou."

A lot of thoughts race through his mind as you talk. For one, he's a bit bemused at the notion that you would be so invested in helping a woman you just met the night before. He had assumed you were lifelong friends, the way you defended the acting manager that day. On the other hand, it did seem like something you would do, from what he's gathered of you. But more importantly..

"Nilou?"

"Yeah! I got myself a job here thanks to her. Apparently, Nilou mentioned to Enteka that the theatre needed more people around, so here I am!"

 "Oh? And what do you do, then?" he tilts his head. "Besides flailing around blindly and carrying things like an idiot?"

"Hey!" you punch his shoulder lightly. "I'll have you know I'm very skilled at craftsmanship!"

"Really?" he drawls.

"Yeah really! I'm like, super popular. All the rage."

"It's weird that I've never heard of you then."

"What, you've never heard of the amazing–" 

From the top of the Zubayr stage, a middle aged woman yells out a name, cutting you off. You whip around to look at her. Huh, that's one way to learn what you're called, he supposes.

"Rekhar!" you call back. "Need something?"

"Yeah, would you mind bringing the materials up here instead?"

"Sure thing!"

"You're a dear, thanks!" the elderly woman smiles, and retreats towards the back of the stage.

The Wanderer nudges your foot with his own, and says your name. It tumbles from his lips easily, naturally. He quite enjoys the way it sounds, he thinks.

You chuckle. "Guess I've been exposed."

"Like you could've kept it hidden."

"I could have!"

"With how much you talk? I doubt it."

"I guess that's true; it can't be helped," you sigh dramatically. "I do like talking to you."

"To me, or just in general?"

"In general too." you flash a wicked grin. "But mostly, you're just fun to be around."

That's.. certainly new. To be fair, you had incredibly odd taste in company.

You both reach the stage, and set down the bundles in your arms on a nearby table. Rekhar beams her thanks, and sweeps the fabric off to who knows where. 

"I hear she's working on a new prop mechanic for the next show." you comment.

"You're not helping? I thought you were a craftsman."

"Me?" you laugh. "Oh, I'm not as well versed in prop engineering. My specialty lies more in puppetry." 

His chest drops to a jolt, and he feels his throat run dry. "Puppets."

"Yeah!" You don't seem to notice the change in his tone. "I could show them to you, sometime."

"No thanks." he backs away abruptly, movement stiff. You look worried for him. He looks away from you.

"Are you okay?"

"I got something else to do," he says. You both knew it was a lie. "And you don't need my help anymore."

You don't need a puppet like me.

You reach out to him. He flinches away.

"..okay." you clasp your hands together, hold them close to your chest. "I'll see you around."

He leaves you standing alone without an answer.

©wanderstarr..!!

me: haha yeah this is gonna be fluff/humour yk

also me:

[totallynotcoffeeturtle]

Touch Starved

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Genshin masterlist || Scaramouche masterlist

Summary: Wanderer wants to feel you against him, even when working Tags: fluff, pre-established relationship, gn!reader

A/N: I was too busy reading random novels online sowwy nor sowwy

･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･

Wanderer is discreet, as he is in most matters of his day-to-day life… or at least he thinks he is. Every now and then, he craves your touch against his skin, your fingers dancing across his arms and soft lips against his. During those moments, he pushes his chair just a bit closer to you, his legs stretch out to graze against your thighs. You can practically feel his eyes flicking over your face. He might as well be all over you by now but his ego is too much for him to be vulnerable. Though not in public and not when he is supposed to be razor focused on the books in front of him.

At least you are so kind as to satisfy his desires without exposing him. Wanderer feels a bone-deep sense of comfort at your fingers intertwining with his cool ones and the soft pads, roughened in all the right ways, mess with his knuckles. The puppet almost melts into a puddle whenever you offer him even a sliver of affection, even if he refuses to show it at all. He does not know that you can feel the happiness radiating off him, nor are you planning to tell him at all. It can remain as your little secret~

(Extra: though if he craves your touch at home, he would be very straightforward and simply pulls you onto his lap or drapes himself on top of you on the bed. Whenever you stir or move too much, Wanderer makes you settle down by biting your cheeks. He likes hearing you grumble while he deals with his work, which makes it more enjoyable for him.)

･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･

Taglist: @amyminhminh @xrmywaifxx @samyayaya

[lumaere]

@eonsadrft wanted to see it drawn,

I deliver.