Imagine Teasing Zhongli In His Tiny Dragon Form...and It Backfires.

refseek.com

www.worldcat.org/

link.springer.com

http://bioline.org.br/

repec.org

science.gov

pdfdrive.com

what would a situationship with scara be like?

cw. situationship, toxic by britney spears, gn! reader

situationship with scaramouche where he, and such general statement goes without noting further, wouldn't see nor care much about the surprising benefits he got and achieved the moment he spent more time with you— insignificant to how little you saw each other, settling, fleeting instances passing by in a second, strikingly did he not like nor crave the bottling happiness he felt with you, and how could you possibly blame him? when he never felt it before.

while, precisely look before you leap, but the man wasn't particularly as mean to you as you thought he would be, while on the same dime, did scaramouche always make sure that he didn't see this rasping situation with the both of you as anything more than what it actually was.

situationship with scaramouche where he wouldn't reach out to you in days, more often weeks, don't expect him to ask about your day either, treat you to a meal or act interested in any certain topics you might like to share with him out of affecting kindness. following your meet ups, and we will go into this more in depth, but kuni will usually wholly discard any crawling emotions he might perceive during it, and make it his own self protecting duty to part ways with you as soon as possible.

situationship with scaramouche where he will suddenly, in the middle of the night, knock on your door— unannounced and not making sense of anything he would say or declare, already being fully aware that there was no chance in this bloody scenario that you would ever turn him down nor refuse him entrance to your home. it's those mesmerizing eyes, and how he moves his lips slightly to indicate a smile, although fairly fake, it's impressive enough to easily wrap you around his finger.

situationship with scaramouche where he wouldn't engage in loads of small talk with you ever— if anything, he'd absolutely conquer the first chance he'd get to quickly place his lips on top of yours, so neither of you could voice anything. but, beware, he wasn't one to play with nor was the man stupid enough to dispense of everything you'd do. assuming you want to feel that way, scaramouche showers you with a sense of false security and a shadow like sensation of an emotion one might mistake for attraction, or genuine care.

situationship with scaramouche who, in plain sight, found you to be angelic, enchanting and easy on his pair of eyes, yet inwardly he'd think about it, he'd never tell you. from the stronger perception did he fantasize about it too when you weren't with him. you might wonder now how he'd act if you were to do something more reckless, for example, flirt with another person in front of him.

out of spite? perhaps, and maybe playing out the jealousy card wasn't a smart move either, but you were dying to find out if he was saying the truth back then— when he assured you, over and over, that he doesn't care if you were dating or becoming intimate with others aside from him, that you aren't that special to him, or special at all to further prove his false utterance. and never will be anything more in his life.

situationship with scaramouche who steps and contradicts himself within his own manner of thinking, when he notices that you were awfully too comfortable with another person who wasn't him. how dare you, he spat, anger squeezes the air from his lungs.

what he will do now wasn't a traditional, "stepping towards you and telling the person to leave you alone" no, not with him, scaramouche has a different perspective or solution whenever you were stepping away from how he wanted or expected you to act.

he has been at this long enough that he doesn't argue with you, scaramouche knows it'll only make things more complicated and jarring, and he is aware that this loneliness inside of him will forever be around, not even you could conquer it.

it's there, burning, gnawing itself into his cold flesh and limbs, giving him pains, and hurting his wounds. scaramouche recognized that it wouldn't change and even if he attempted to give this a go, between the both of you, he'd rather catch himself dead than messing up something that could become more, genuinely hurting you, even though he wasn't aware that he already did hurt you enough.

at the end of the day, he doesn't see you bawl your eyes out.

situationship with scaramouche who will easily lie and sneakily manufacture a false emergency you cannot cast aside, not when you're entirely stricken with a deep emotion of worry as all of your anxieties came tumbling back towards you, actively bleeding all over your skin as you sigh in despair.

at long last, what you did not expect, was scaramouche who had fooled you yet again and your face hardened, quivering in frustration at this situation you cannot possibly escape. but there was silence now, a gut destroying agony, no further explanations or broods he had even attempted to voice— the dark indigo haired couldn't even fathom that this might be the right way, simply conversation, so easily said yet so tremendously hard to do.

all you had found was the man who drove you insane, again and again, yet you cannot keep your hands off him, it was futile, and he's hiding his true self behind those lies and intrigues— but you get better at it, discerning and listening between his wording, a slow uncoiling of faint resentment flashing before your very eyes.

scaramouche keeps all his secrets untold to you as he touches your warm skin, it's different to his, and he bites down on his bottom lip when he recognizes the pacifying feeling rousing inside his chest again.

for he waits for you to unfold first, what you desire when he kisses your lips, what he was blocking beneath his heart, he cannot make peace with it— it's unspoken when he undresses your body and leaves you vulnerable for his eyes to feast on.

frankly, it was little by little breaking him apart, the possibility that you will be happy and fulfilled with somebody else. scaramouche falls into pieces from within if he wasn't close to you, he touches, kisses, even worships you if it makes you stay.

in the final analysis, he finds solace and melts into it, at the simply fantasy of something that could be more, but never will be more.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

their username EMBODIES what i do every night....

telling the brothers they would look pretty with a ring I Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus

Request: Hi, may i ask for a request where mc tells the demon brothers that they would look pretty with a ring?

AN: HELLO!! Here's the second part of the request!! I'm so sorry for the late update <33 I'll try to manage my schedule better I swear!! Anyways HERE YA GO

NOTE: NONE OF THESE IMAGES ARE MINE, NOR AM I TRYING TO SELL THEM.

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜

Lucifer & Mammon

Leviathan

You weren’t surprised when Levi burst through your door, holding a limited edition Ruri-chan: Invasion of the Gnomes in one hand and a controller in the other. He hadn’t slept a wink for 3 nights and had stayed up to pre-order the game before it sold out. So, of course, he was excited to play it.

It’s been around half an hour since you entered his aquatic room, and his finger had yet to leave his controller. You admired how skilled his reaction time was, pressing the buttons as if he’d been doing it from day one. You wondered what his finger would look like with a ring wrapped around it…

“You wanna play? There’s a couch co-op and I can get another controller if you want me to”

“Yeah sure! Get ready to get your ass kicked, Lord of Shadows”

The image had yet left your mind and continued to fester for the rest of the rounds. The distraction definitely did not help, finding yourself losing round after round.

"Come on, Normie! Why you trash all of a sudden? Git gud LMAO"

"Of course not! You can't exactly blame me for thinking how cute you'd look with a lil ring on your finger…"

That seemed to shut him up, so you looked back at the screen. In the next round you played, your character absolutely beat the living crap out of him. You pump your hands up in victory, turning to your boyfriend with a smile on your face.

There before you was Levi, eyes blinking and face flushed red, the hue a match with the blood dripping down his nose. He reminded you of those anime characters who'd gush fountains from a nosebleed. You ended up having to put the game on hold to grab a tissue for the demon.

A few days later you find your boyfriend a stuttering mess, his arms extending a box onto the palm of your hand. You gave him a look of confusion before opening it up. There tucked inside were two snake shaped rings, that when interlocked, wrapped around each other. You laughed to yourself, finding the situation similar to a choose-your-own-adventure game, and took one for yourself. He took the other and slipped it on with you doing the same.

He’d play around with it when he’s in the lobby of a game. He gets super flustered when someone asks about it, giving excuses about how it was a collectible from his favorite series. Sometimes you’d tease him about it, but he secretly likes that there's something that connects him with you.

Source: https://images.app.goo.gl/2rFPFaW8v2kYxPdEA

Satan

It was another day in Devildom and you and Satan decided to go to the Library to return the books he borrowed. On your way back, you stumbled upon a stray Persian kitten. Of course the blonde pleaded with you to let him bring it home, and you couldn't exactly say no to that face. So without Lucifer’s knowledge, you took it and hid it in his room. You gave it a bath and played with the feline all day long–soon being named Sir Cat II.

Satan was in the middle of petting Sir Cat’s furry head, you notice how his fingers delicately brushed the kitty. The cat purred in satisfaction, leaning closer to the demon’s touch.

“Hey Satan?” you called. His attention left the cat on his lap and was brought to you. You asked if he had any rings lying around, and he shook his head to your inquiry. “Oh that’s a shame, your finger would look great with one”. You took the cat out of his arms while he was caught off-guard.

A few seconds of silence passed and he abruptly stood up. He went to a shelf and easily located the book he was looking for, as if he knew the shelf like the back of his hand. There he was, holding a copy of one of his favorite books in front of you. In a split second, Satan opens it and rips a page off. He starts to fold the paper on itself, eventually making a ring shaped origami with a heart in the middle. He rips another and once again folds it. He takes your hand and slips one of them on.

"There you go, Kitten~~ Now both our hands look great, don't they? These are made from my favorite chapters of the book. Where the lovers meet and their happily ever after. I shan't spoil though, that would ruin our story, will it not? "

You’re in utter disbelief at the scene. It felt sacrilegious to watch a bookworm tear a book, let alone rip two pages clean off. Despite that, you ended up with matching rings—enchanted with a spell that makes it unbreakable—and a cat that sadly lasted for a day since Lucifer found out.

He'd fondle with it while reading, sometimes staring at it longing when it catches the ring from the corner of his eye. It reminds him of his future happily ever after with you and how there's still plenty of time to spare, you're not even half way through your love story.

Source: https://pin.it/1Ody1B9

Asmodeus

It’s been a hectic week and you both decided to spend some time together painting each other's nails. So here you were, coating Asmo’s perfectly shaped nails in pink and cyan varnish. He was in the middle of telling you another gossip he heard around school when he noticed you spacing out. We obviously can't have that.

"…and apparently Lucifer and Diavolo are going to implement a ban on D.D.D's during classes. I mean can you believe it? How am I gunna- Hello? Helloooo? Ugh! Are you even listening? This is a matter of life and death here and you're spacing out! What's so important that you can't even give me ALL your attention, Darlinnnn >:("

"Shit sorry! It's just that your hand would be absolutely perfect with a ring on it"

He thinks you're absolutely right. He starts going on a tangent, talking about what gems look radiant on him and how he can smell a fake one from a mile away. Through the middle of his TedTalk, his eyes brightened and a gasp left his mouth. You thought something went wrong, but he waved it off—saying he just remembered something unimportant.

It was obviously not unimportant when you're greeted by a rock-like object the next day. You picked it up and to your surprise, it opened. To be fair, you live with the 7 embodiments of sins and are currently in a place called "Devildom" so rocks opening up is pretty normal. Surrounded by what looks like amethyst was a beautiful rose gold ring with a ruby in the middle. After the lesson about Rings for Asmo 101, you immediately knew who it was from.

On the first day of getting the ring, Asmo went around the House of Lamentation to show all the brothers the little matching jewelry. After that, he always makes sure to wear it and find an outfit that compliments it.

Sources: https://pin.it/7OUqL1M

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1267937483/lab-created-ruby-engagement-ring-white?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=red+rose+ring&ref=sc_gallery-22-10&pro=1&frs=1&col=1&plkey=6b56868d9bcc21083487e78ae10ba9c5dbef7462%3A1267937483

🛐🛐🛐

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It Will Come Back

pairing - Scaramouche x f!reader (Au)

AN: This is a 3-4 part scara angst series. It does not make scara look good. If you're looking for scara comfort, this is not the series you should be reading. Reblogs are much appreciated and I would love your feedback to this :)

Word count - 5400

CW/TW: angst, insecurities, arguments/conflicts, jealousy, suggestive (nothing explicit), crying, heartbreak, mean! scara (sort of), unrequited love, hurt/no comfort

Header art credit

When he can't give you what you need but gives it oh so willingly to someone else...

PART 1 - Shatter me | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

In a dimly lit cafe, you sit across from Ayaka and Thoma, sipping at a lukewarm cup of tea. The ambiance is cozy, but the warmth of the place fails to reach you. Your gaze drifts toward the window, where raindrops streak down the glass.

"I know I should look after myself first," you confess. "But it's just... so hard."

Ayaka places a comforting hand on yours, her eyes filled with concern. "We understand, (Y/n). Living with him must be emotionally draining."

Thoma chimes in, his expression a mix of sympathy and frustration. "It sucks that you cannot change the dorm room arrangement until graduation. But at least there are only a few months left."

You nod, trying to force a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Yeah, just a few more months," you reply, sounding weary.

Ayaka leans in, her voice gentle. "You don't have to live there, you know. I know you already paid for the dorm, but you could stay with us. We have plenty of extra rooms, and Thoma already lives with us."

Ayato, who had been quiet until now, narrows his eyes and speaks with conviction. "She's right. You don't have to endure this. Come live with us. We'll take care of you."

Your heart swells with gratitude for their kindness, yet a heavy cloud of uncertainty lingers. "I appreciate it, really," you begin, "but... I don't want to run away from my problems.”

Ayato interjects gently, "I understand, but you already have a lot on your plate. The semester ends in a few months, and then you graduate. On top of that, you have reports to submit and jobs to apply for. Living under the same roof as Scaramouche is taking the life out of you."

Ayaka agrees, her eyes full of empathy. "You deserve so much better, (Y/n). Seeing Scaramouche with his new girlfriend is not something you need to experience."

Ayato adds thoughtfully, his eyes softening as he looks at you "You need to draw boundaries with him, especially concerning Miyo, she may be nice and sweet, but seeing them in what is supposed to be your safe space isn't easy on you and it isn't fair."

The weight of your situation bears down upon you, and you feel utterly exhausted, demotivated, burnt out, and mostly empty. The emotional toll of navigating an undefined relationship with Scaramouche, coupled with witnessing him move on with someone else, left you feeling like a ship adrift in stormy seas. You take a deep breath, feeling the heaviness in your chest, and reply with sincerity. "I know you all mean well, and I can't thank you enough for your support. I’ll see what I can do about it. But enough about me, what is going on in your lives?” You switch to a different topic, hoping it would distract you from your thoughts. As the rain outside intensifies, your mind drifts back to a vivid memory, a rainy day much like this one.

You had returned home from a college party; your steps unsteady from the effects of alcohol. Scaramouche, as he often did, had taken advantage of your non-confrontational nature and was munching on your leftovers, a smug grin playing on his lips.

"Hey," you slurred, your voice betraying a mix of anger and uncertainty. "That's... that's my food."

He looked up, his violet eyes meeting yours, a hint of surprise in his expression. "So what?" he retorted, feigning indifference. "You always let me have it anyway."

Your cheeks flushed with irritation, but the alcohol emboldened you, pushing you to speak up. "You can't just take whatever you want, Scaramouche! It's not fair!"

Setting the food aside, he stood up, closing the distance between you with an air of defiance. "Stop being a brat," he shot back. "It's just food."

Anger surged within you, fueled by a mix of alcohol and pent-up frustration. "I'm not a brat!" you countered; your voice tinged with indignation. "And you can't keep treating me like this!"

A tense silence hung between you, the room feeling smaller with every heartbeat. Emotions churned within you like a stormy sea, uncertain and volatile. But amidst the anger, there was something else, something magnetic and undeniable, pulling you both closer. Scaramouche's eyes bore into yours, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze, like an electric charge in the air. Your breath quickened, heart pounding in your chest, as if caught in the eye of a brewing tempest.

The storm of emotions reached its peak, and before you knew it, your lips were on his, a moment of reckless abandon and vulnerability. Time seemed to slow, the world around you fading away, leaving only the two of you entangled in a whirlwind of desire and frustration. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and the taste of alcohol mingled with the sweetness of the rain outside. The sounds of soft moans and whispered words echoed in the room, like a melody that only the two of you could hear. The anger and frustration that had been pent up between you and him were all released through shared touches, an explosion of emotions that neither of you could resist. In the dim light of your room, his skin against yours felt electrifying, each touch igniting a fire within. It was a night of recklessness and vulnerability, a night when your world would spin on its axis, forever changing your relationship with Scaramouche.

And now, as you stand in front of your dorm room, the present looms before you like a daunting challenge. Your heart clenches with dread, knowing that the moment you step inside, you'll have to face him, the one who has become an intangible part of your life. The fear of having your heart broken anew grips you like a vice, but you know there is no escape from the reality that awaits you. Taking a deep breath, you turn the doorknob, and the room embraces you like an old friend. Yet, the warmth you once felt has been replaced by an icy chill. Your eyes dart around, seeking any sign of Scaramouche. Then, like a sharp blade, the sight of him cuddling on the couch with Miyo pierces your heart. A bowl of popcorn rests on his lap, and he playfully feeds her the kernels. The scene is so intimate, so tender, that it feels like a knife being twisted in your gut.

You force a polite smile as Miyo waves at you excitedly, her presence a constant reminder of what you lack. She invites you to join them, her friendly tone contrasting sharply with the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "We're having fun, come on (Y/n), join us. This movie is good!"

You decline her offer, offering a weak excuse of having work to do. The truth is that you can't bear to be near them, witnessing the affection he showers on her that was always reserved from you. It's not her fault, you know, but the jealousy and hurt gnaw at you nonetheless. She has everything from him that you longed for but never received.

As Miyo's face drops, you see her disappointment, and for a moment, a pang of guilt tugs at your heart. You know she means well, and her understanding demeanor only serves to amplify the turmoil within you. "Alright then, no worries. Good luck with your work," she says with a friendly smile.

Your response is curt as you mutter a quick, "Thank you," before hastily retreating to your room. The weight of emotions bears down on you, crashing into your chest like a tidal wave. You crash onto your bed, your heart heavy with pain and confusion. Three years – three long years you had been there for him, doing everything in your power to keep him happy. Yet, it now feels like you were nothing more than a convenience, a placeholder in his life until he found someone special for himself. The thought stabs at your heart, leaving a searing ache in its wake. It's not just the fact that he's moved on with someone else that hurts; it's the feeling of being forgotten, as if those three years meant nothing to him. The intimacy you shared, the emotions you poured into your undefined relationship, it all feels like a cruel joke now.

You recall the moments you spent together, the laughter, the tears, the shared experiences that bonded you. It was supposed to mean something – it was supposed to be enough. But now, it seems like all those moments were lost in the shadow of Miyo's presence. The ache in your chest intensifies as you wonder why you weren't enough for him. What did she have that you didn't? Was it her sweetness, her warmth, her ability to make him feel special? You find yourself drowning in a sea of self-doubt, questioning your worth and your place in his life. The room around you feels suffocating, the walls closing in as the weight of your emotions presses down on you. The pain of rejection, the bitterness of feeling replaced, it all swirls together into a storm of anguish that threatens to consume you.

The knock on your door startles you, and you take a moment to compose yourself before opening it. To your surprise and dismay, there stands Scara, his face contorted into a scowl. His voice carries a hiss as he demands, "What's your problem?"

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the turmoil inside. "Excuse me?"

Scara's anger seems to intensify as he snaps back, "Miyo has been trying to be nice to you, trying to hang out, and you keep turning her down, being very bitchy and closed off to her."

Your heart sinks, and anger bubbles up inside you. How dare he accuse you of being rude to Miyo when all you feel is the pain of seeing them together? Before you can respond, he continues, his words laced with exasperation and anger "She's going to be here often whether you like it or not because she is my girlfriend. The least you can do is be nice to her."

His words strike a nerve, and a mix of hurt and frustration washes over you. How can he be so insensitive? Doesn't he understand how difficult this is for you? You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the emotions are too overwhelming.

"I... I don't hate her," you manage to say, your voice shaking slightly. "It's just... seeing you two together... it's hard for me."

Scaramouche's scowl softens a fraction, but there's still a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "Look, I get that it's not easy for you," he mutters, his tone begrudgingly acknowledging your feelings. "But she's important to me, and I won't have you treating her like crap."

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, a mix of sadness and anger building inside you. "I'm not trying to treat her badly," you say, your voice steady. "I'm just trying to cope with everything, and it's hard for me to be around you two right now."

Scaramouche seems taken aback by the sincerity in your voice, but he quickly masks it with a defensive posture. "Well, you better figure it out," he retorts. "Because she's not going anywhere.”

It's not that you want to push Miyo away; it's just that seeing them together is a constant reminder of what you had with him and lost. You want to be happy for him, but it's hard when your heart feels like it's breaking every time you see them together. "I'll try," you say softly, the pain evident in your voice. "I'll try to be nicer, but please understand that it's not easy for me."

Scaramouche's expression softens slightly, and he lets out a sigh. "Fine," he grumbles, seeming to relent just a little. He turns to leave, and you can't help but feel a pang of sadness as you watch him go. The door closes, and you're left alone in your room, the storm of emotions still raging inside you.

You slide down against the door, your body shaking as tears and sobs break from you like a torrential downpour. Everything hurts so much. Your head feels heavy with a thousand thoughts, your heart aches with a pain you can't describe. Was Scaramouche ever this protective of you? You wonder bitterly. Probably not, you chuckle bitterly between sobs. He was always the one to roast you with insults, to chime in when his friends mocked you, to treat you like the butt of a joke. He always had a sense of superiority with everyone... everyone except her.

Miyo. The name feels like a knife in your chest. She came into his life, and suddenly everything changed. The tenderness he showed her was something you had yearned for, but he kept it locked away from you. It feels like betrayal, and the pain is unbearable. You had given so much of yourself to him, only to be tossed aside when someone new came along. As you sit there, feeling utterly broken and defeated, you can't help but question everything. Was there ever a chance for you two? Or were you destined to be the one who loved him more, while he gave his heart to someone else? The memory hits you like a tidal wave, pulling you into a painful flashback of a time not too long ago.

Scaramouche had been acting distant, colder and ruder than usual. The tension between you two was palpable, and it had finally reached its breaking point. You remember sitting in your kitchen over dinner.

"Is everything okay, Scara?" you had asked, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your voice. “You’ve been so closed off, recently.”

He stopped eating, frowning as he set his fork down. "Maybe it's time to end this… end this little charade of ours.," he said, his tone somber.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "What do you mean?"

Scaramouche sighed, looking tired and conflicted. "I'm getting tired of us always arguing, always fighting," he admitted. "And I'm tired of you asking more from me, asking for something I can't offer you... something I don't want to offer you."

You felt your heart shatter at his words, but you refused to give up so easily. "I can be patient," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. “I am sorry, Scara. I didn’t mean to come off as pushy. I didn’t know it was affecting you like this.”

But he shakes his head, looking weary and defeated. "It's not about being ready," he says. "I think it's better for us to be just friends. You shouldn't get your hopes up."

Your heart clenches at his words, panic rising within you. You can't bear the thought of losing him, of going back to being just friends when your feelings for him are so much more. "Scara, you can't be doing this," Desperation laced in your voice. "Not now, not when I'm in love with you."

He looks away, unable to meet your gaze. "That's precisely why I can't allow this to continue," he murmurs. In that moment, it felt like your world was crumbling around you. The dinner you had prepared with so much love and hope now lay untouched on the table. He threw the rest of the food in the trash can, as if symbolizing the end of something beautiful yet broken.

You tried to hold back the tears, the pain of rejection and heartbreak too much to bear. You had given so much of yourself to him, and now he was pushing you away, leaving you feeling abandoned and lost. "I don't want to lose you," you said, your voice quivering. "I can't imagine my life without you."

He stood up, and you reached out, as if trying to hold on to him, to keep him from slipping away. As Scaramouche harshly pulls away, you can feel the sharp pain of rejection cutting through you. "I can't deal with this right now," he says angrily, his voice cold and distant. "I need to go."

You stand there, your arms still reaching out for him, but he doesn't look back as he leaves the dorm room, leaving you by yourself to deal with your breaking heart. The tears spill freely from your eyes as the reality of the situation sinks in. The one person you had poured your heart and soul into, the one who had once been so dear to you, had now become a stranger, cold and indifferent.

As you sit in front of your laptop, the memories of that painful night still haunt you. You try to focus on your reports, hoping that burying yourself in work will numb the pain, but it's no use. The ache in your heart is still there, a constant reminder of what you had lost. You remember how he said he would prepare his own meals from now on, how he told you not to wait on him anymore. It felt like he was trying to erase every trace of your connection, as if he wanted to forget that you had ever been a part of his life. The pain is heavy, and the weight of it feels suffocating. You wonder if it will ever end, if you will ever be able to move on from this heartbreak. Graduation feels like a distant hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness of your emotions. The pain is raw, the wounds still fresh, and you wonder if you will ever find the strength to heal. You wish for a reprieve from the anguish, for a way to escape the constant ache in your chest. In the midst of your turmoil, you find solace in the thought that someday, somehow, you will find the strength to mend your broken heart. Until then, you take each day as it comes, hoping that with time, the wounds will heal, the pain will lessen and maybe, just maybe, he will come back to you.

----------------------

In the dimly lit living room, Scaramouche returned to the couch, his eyes meeting Miyo's curious gaze. She snuggled against his chest as they continued to watch the movie, her warmth and presence grounding him. She was a comforting balm to his troubled soul, someone who seemed to understand him in ways he had never thought possible. The guilt of his recent confrontation with you still lingered, but he pushed it aside for the moment, trying to focus on the joy he found in Miyo's company.

"Is everything okay?" Miyo asked softly, her voice carrying genuine concern.

Scaramouche's gaze softened as he looked at her, a small smile gracing his lips. "Yeah, everything's fine," he reassured her. "Just had to discuss something about some bills with (y/n)."

Miyo nodded, accepting his answer without pressing further. She snuggled closer against him, finding comfort in his embrace. Scaramouche couldn't help but feel lucky to have found her. She was a beautiful soul, intelligent, confident, and kind. Despite knowing the truth about his royal heritage, she treated him like any other person, never letting his status define their relationship. (Y/n) didn’t treat you any differently as well, idiot. A voice in his head spoke. He pushed it away, trying to focus on the present, on the happiness he found with Miyo. But guilt gnawed at him, wondering if he had been too harsh on you earlier. He recalled the way you looked earlier. Pale, tired, with dark circles under your eyes - you seemed unwell. Had he misjudged the situation earlier? Were you not being mean to Miyo after all? Graduation was just two months away; maybe you were genuinely occupied with work.

He couldn't shake off the concern he felt for you, his thoughts wavering between the affection he had for Miyo and the lingering emotions he had for you. Scaramouche adored Miyo; she made him feel loved and understood. Yet, a part of him couldn't forget how he treated you. The thought of someone treating Miyo the way he treated you made his chest hurt. Scaramouche's mind drifted back to a time not too long ago when you had discovered the truth about him and Miyo.

It had been a few weeks since you confessed your love, and he had turned you down, leading to a growing distance between you two. He had been avoiding you, but it became difficult to do so since the two of you shared a dorm. He had met Miyo a few weeks before your confession, and he knew he wanted to see more of her. But he couldn't do that while still entangled in a confusing "situationship" with you. That's why he had to end things, for both your sake and his own.

He was careful not to bring Miyo up after he had began dating her. He didn’t know if it was out of consideration for your emotions or out of guilt but his relationship with Miyo was a well-hidden secret from you. However, he longed for Miyo to be with him. He thought you would be at the supermarket where you part-timed, not returning until late in the night. So, he had invited Miyo over to your shared dorm, hoping to spend some time alone with her. The two of them were making out in the kitchen when you unexpectedly walked in. The shock on your face was unmistakable, as if you had just witnessed a murder. Scaramouche quickly pushed Miyo away, and she straightened herself, apologizing to you.

"I-I'm sorry," Miyo stammered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

You stood there, silent for a moment, before finally speaking in a barely audible voice. "What is going on?"

Scaramouche cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Miyo, this is (y/n)," he introduced you with an awkward gesture. "And (y/n), this is Miyo... my girlfriend."

The sparkle in your eyes immediately diminished as you tried to process this information. Scaramouche noticed your breaths became shallow and short as your eyes shifted between him and Miyo.

"Girlfriend..." you whispered, almost as if testing the word on your tongue.

The atmosphere in the room turned heavy as he noticed your lips quiver. Miyo knew about you, about the situationship. Scaramouche had no secrets with her. "I... I'll just go to my room," you managed to say, your voice trembling. "I... I forgot my wallet."

With that, you rushed to your room, and Scaramouche watched as you quickly reemerged, dashing out of the dorm in a hurry before he could say anything. He felt a pit forming in his stomach realizing that he had hurt you. Scaramouche knew he had to make amends somehow, but he also understood that it might be too late.

“I should head home,” Miyo speaks placing a reassuring hand on his chest. “I know you are worried about her. I am too. This wasn’t the best way for her to find out.” She sighed. “We need to give her some time and space to process this. Be nice to her, okay?”

Scaramouche nodded and kissed her softly on the lips. “You’re just amazing, you know that? To think of her even in a situation like this.” He tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

In that moment, as Miyo placed a reassuring hand on Scaramouche's chest, he felt understood in a way he hadn't expected. Her understanding and concern for you showed him the depth of her empathy and kindness. Any doubts he had about her over you vanished away, replaced by a newfound appreciation for the woman in his arms. With her understanding and support, the uncomfortable pit that had formed in Scaramouche's stomach began to ease. He knew he could count on Miyo, not just as a girlfriend but as a true companion who would stand by him through thick and thin.

As the movie came to an end, Miyo had fallen asleep, snuggled against him. Scaramouche couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable she looked, her peaceful expression bringing a sense of calm to his heart. He placed a tender kiss on top of her head, feeling a mix of love and protectiveness toward her. Graduation season was upon them, and it had been a challenging time for all of them. He knew Miyo was working hard, juggling her studies and other responsibilities. In contrast, Scaramouche felt a sense of privilege, knowing that his path was set as a prince of Inazuma, despite his strained relationship with his mother, the queen. Graduation was supposed to mark a new beginning, a fresh chapter in their lives, but for Scaramouche, it felt more like a burden, a heavy cloak of expectations and obligations he had to carry. He couldn't help but wonder if he was truly ready for the responsibilities that awaited him as a prince. Despite his achievements and his position, there was always a sense of disappointment from his mother, the queen, which weighed heavily on him.

He knew that he had a responsibility to fulfill, but in that moment, with Miyo by his side, he felt a sense of solace. She was the one who made him feel like he could be himself, without the burden of expectations. Miyo saw him for who he truly was and accepted him, flaws and all. Scaramouche felt a deep gratitude for having her in his life, especially during times of uncertainty and pressure.

Scaramouche's senses were heightened as he heard the door to your room creak open, the sound like a haunting echo in the quiet space. You had been skittish ever since the day you discovered Scaramouche and Miyo in the kitchen, and he couldn't help but notice how seldom you were in the dorm lately. You would leave early in the morning and return late at night, prompting his concern for your well-being. He often wondered if you were getting enough sleep or if something else was troubling you.

He knew you weren't alright. Your weary appearance betrayed the emotional turmoil you were going through. Without making a sound or drawing too much attention to yourself, you walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk. Scaramouche inwardly cursed himself, realizing that he had run out of milk and had used your supply to make Miyo hot chocolate. He had planned to replace it with a new carton tomorrow, but now it seemed like a careless oversight.

Seeing you sigh and throw the empty carton away, he mumbled an apology to you, hoping to ease the tension between you. "I'm sorry about the milk," he said, his voice soft and sincere.

You looked at him, and he noticed the tear tracks on your cheeks, causing a pang of guilt to shoot through him. He tried to brush it off, attempting to maintain a sense of normalcy. "It's just milk, (y/n)," he said, attempting to downplay the situation. "No need to be so dramatic about it. I’ll buy you some more tomorrow, okay?"

But the emotions he saw in your eyes told a different story. It was clear that there was more going on beneath the surface, and he wished he could reach out to you, comfort you in some way. But the weight of Miyo sleeping on his chest kept him in place, unable to move.

You quickly wiped away your tears, your eyes becoming hollow with all the emotions pooling inside them. "It's fine," you replied in a voice that cracked slightly, trying to maintain a façade of strength.

As you hurriedly rushed back to your room, he couldn't help but notice your hand gripping your stomach. Were you hungry? He had noticed that your shelves in the fridge were bare, indicating that you might not be taking care of yourself properly. As he sat there, still holding Miyo in his arms, the weight of the situation weighed heavily on his mind. He couldn't help but feel like he had let you down, and the guilt gnawed at him. Scaramouche knew that he needed to address the situation, to find a way to talk to you and make amends, but the fear of rejection and the complexity of his feelings held him back.

Despite not being together anymore, Scaramouche couldn't help but feel a lingering fondness for you. He missed talking to you, sharing inside jokes, and having spicy meals together where he would laugh at your expense as you danced around due to the heat of the food. There was a sense of comfort and familiarity with you that he had grown accustomed to, and it frustrated him that you wouldn't accept what he offered to you – friendship. In his mind, he couldn't understand why you were so stuck on the notion of loving him and having him love you back. It was unfair to him, he felt, as he had made his intentions clear from the start. He never wanted to give you the place that Miyo now held in his heart. He wasn't sure why he couldn't reciprocate your feelings, but he knew that it wasn't something he could force. He couldn't understand why you held onto that hope, even when he had rejected you.

Maybe it was because of your uncertainty. Scaramouche couldn't help but notice that you never seemed to decide anything for yourself. Your lack of self-esteem also played a role; you didn't seem to value yourself as much as you deserved. How could you expect him to love you when you placed your worth so low? The constant arguments between you two weighed on his mind as well. They always ended with you in tears, and it left him feeling drained and frustrated. Miyo, on the other hand, brought ease and stability to his life. She was confident, knew what she wanted, and had a clear goal in life - to become a diplomat in the Inazuma court. In contrast, he couldn't help but feel that you lacked direction and purpose. You never seemed to have a plan or a clear vision for your future. It made him question whether a long-term relationship with you would have been sustainable.

While he respected your opinions and advice, he couldn't help but feel weighed down by the constant nagging. You would urge him to study harder, to work towards proving himself, even though everything seemed to be already set for him as a prince. While he complained about how disappointed his mother was with him, instead of agreeing, you would encourage him to communicate with her. It felt like you were pushing him, never letting him be by himself. It was hard to let go of the hurt and frustration, but at the same time, he couldn't help but miss the connection you once shared. He wished things could have been different, that you could have been the person you needed you to be – a friend.

Scaramouche carefully picked up Miyo in his arms, cradling her gently as he carried her to his room. He walked with soft, measured steps, mindful not to wake her from her peaceful slumber. As he passed through the living room, his foot accidentally knocked over a pile of unread mail, scattering envelopes across the floor. His eyes caught sight of a particular envelope, distinct from the others. It was from Mondstadt, and it bore your name on it. The sight of it caused a pang of curiosity to stir within him, but he hesitated to pick it up. He knew that mail was private, and he shouldn't intrude into your personal space.

Without thinking much of it, Scaramouche walked towards his room, still holding Miyo in his arms. He placed her gently on the bed, making sure she was comfortable and covered with a blanket. She sighed softly, settling into a deeper slumber. Scaramouche climbed into bed beside Miyo, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her close. He found solace in the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her breathing. In that moment, as he lay beside her, he pushed aside the thoughts of you. He chose to focus on the present, on the love and comfort he found with Miyo.

Next

AN: my dumbass forgot to let y’all know to let me know if you want to be in a tag list for this series 😭

rules of rationality.

summary: You’re one of the few people Alhaitham trusts to take care of him when he’s injured.

notes: 1.5k words, fic, mentions of injuries + blood, slight suggestive content

He always comes to you when he’s injured. 

Alhaitham never explains why, and you know better than to ask. He simply shows up at your door, methodically reciting his list of potential injuries, as you guide him to the couch and press gauze and disinfectant on his wounds. 

There could be any number of reasons that he’s been hurt, though you had joked that you didn’t think being the Akademiya’s Scribe was such a dangerous job when you first met him. Now, you think that it’s less of his job that’s the cause of all his little altercations, and more of a symptom of his personality. 

“You might need stitches,” you say. “I recommend going to a doctor.”

Keep reading

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

Keep reading

alhaitham used to think that one of the most fascinating aspects of human life was how one chooses a mate.

you’re making it weird. just say lover, the voice at the back of his mind scolds– a voice that sounds eerily similar to kaveh.

but it’s not weird, it’s biology. it’s a selective, compensatory process in which individuals combine scores on several key attributes. such attributes include - but are not limited to - supply and demand, individual circumstance, biology, psychology, religion. it’s an exchange theory of sorts, in which humans pick mates based on who best benefits them. he’d always thought that, should he find ‘a lover,’ it’d be someone like himself.

alhaitham will always be a scholar first and foremost, but every academic thought, fact, and hypothesis disappeared from his mind when he met you. all it took once one glance in your direction and you challenged his every preconceived notion.

you studied under the amurta darshan. he studied under haravatat. you smile and greet every passerby who spares you a glance. he really couldn’t be bothered to lift his nose out of his book. your career in emergency medicine is loud and fast-paced. his job as the scribe (and temporarily the acting grand sage) is largely quiet aside from the occasional research outing or squabble amongst the sages. you voluntarily take extra shifts at the bimarstan all the time, whereas he walks out the akademiya doors at five and never looks back. you like dogs, he prefers cats.

there’s no denying that the two of you are different, and that’s why the outcome rejects his hypothesis. you’re nothing like him and he chose you anyway.

he chose you (even ‘put a ring on it’ as kaveh says) despite the fact that you arrange your books in alphabetical order rather than the dewey decimal system he’s followed since childhood.

which is why he doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly acting like this. if he could swiftly classify your behaviour, it’d be much easier for him to make adjustments to whatever it is he’s doing, but he still hasn’t figured it out.

you’re on the night shift today, which means you’re still asleep as he gets ready for the day. he presses a kiss to your temple, pulling the covers back up around your chin before heading into the kitchen.

kaveh’s already awake too, nursing a mug of coffee as he mulls over the blueprints spread over the dinner table. alhaitham pours himself some coffee, settling into a chair and ignoring his roommate’s protests as he pushes blueprints aside to make room for his mug.

“i was looking at those,” the architect grumbles. “can’t you sit somewhere else?”

alhaitham opens his book, flipping to the page he’d left off on. “it’s my table.”

“that i picked!”

“and i paid for.”

he knows that kaveh can’t argue with that. he smirks, crossing his leg over his knee as kaveh mutters curses, gathering up his blueprints and stomping over to the living room.

when he’s got a good book open, ignoring kaveh’s grumblings is an easy task. his eyes shift toward the clock, and when he sees it’s almost time to head to the akademiya, it’s his turn to grumble.

but then you saunter out of the bedroom, stretching languidly before shuffling over to sit in his lap, pressing various, sleepy kisses to his face. “good morning.”

“ugh,” kaveh scoffs from the couch. “so unbecoming.”

“move out then,” alhaitham suggests, gripping your chin and pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“i can bring you lunch today,” you suggest, hugging him tightly. “or we can go to puspa café and finally have our fortunes read in the coffee grounds!”

“no need,” he tells you. “i’ll just have amani bring me something.”

your face immediately falls, and he doesn’t need to be a scholar to know he’s made some sort of mistake. especially when you slide off his lap, picking up his unfinished cup of coffee and placing it in the sink.

“oh, it’s so awkward,” he hears kaveh say from the living room.

“i wasn’t…” he swallows his protests when you turn around, hands on your hips.

“well, you can just have amani bring you a new one when you get to work.” you turn on your heel, heading off to the bedroom and slamming the shut behind you.

“you handled that terribly,” kaveh informs him. “clearly you’ve never had a woman scream at you with her eyes.”

alhaitham closes his book letting out a breath. “noted.”

after a beat silence, his roommate is the one who sighs, claiming the seat across from him. “alright, i’m going to help you now. because i know that your life has been one grand exercise in romantic self-destruction.”

“romantic self—”

“let me finish. between the job that you have and the one that you somehow got, how often are you home?”

“same hours as always,” he answers easily. just because he had two jobs now did not mean he had to work longer than his standard nine to five.

kaveh shakes his head. “yes, but you always come home too exhausted to do anything, and then she goes to work for the night.”

“that is typically what employed adults who pay rent do.”

he can’t help but chuckle when kaveh rolls his eyes. “okay, smartass. but do yourself a favour and don’t talk about the assistant that obviously has a crush on you. it’s always ‘amani’s this,’ and ‘amani that.’ next time your fiancee offers to bring you lunch, just say yes and absolutely don’t mention that your assistant can bring it to you instead. she’s jealous. you simply have to assure her that she has no reason to be.”

you’re not like that, alhaitham thinks. because he knows you. knows that you’d never be prone to something as cliché as jealousy. and of almani? whose face he couldn’t pick out of a crowd if he tried?

also, kaveh absolutely could not be right. he refused it.

_____

alhaitham’s already at the bimarstan when you arrive, holding two to-go cups of coffee from puspa café. you roll your eyes as your coworkers and patients are whisper amongst themselves, in awe of the akademiya scribe/acting grand sage in their midst.

“you still have approximately ten minutes before your shift,” he tells you. “have coffee with me.”

“i need to get ready,” you huff, speed-walking toward the staff room. “why don’t you drink it with almani instead?”

it’s a low blow, and it’s punctuated by the flash of hurt that flickers across his face. he follows you, though, ignoring the ‘staff only’ sign and shutting the door tightly behind you both.

he opts to stay silent as you put your things away, letting you take the drinks from his hand, “you don’t have to drink it. caffeine intake can affect a person’s fine motor skills. such circumstances are unideal if you’re stitching together a wound or—”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you take the lid off one of the drinks, still glaring at him as you take a sip. “i’m not your assistant.”

if looks could kill, he’d be dead. usually, this is the kind of look you reserve for kaveh when he’s banging around building knick-knacks in the middle of the night.

“i don’t like amani.” alhaitham takes the cup from your hands, placing it on the bench. “i love you, and i don’t say it enough.”

you deflate a little, shaking your head. “no— i— i know. i guess it’s just been a little crazy with everything that’s been going on. you’re the acting grand sage now and you’re busier than ever. i should be more supportive instead of being crazy jealous of—”

“so you were jealous?” damn kaveh.

“well, if i started spending all my time with someone other than you, wouldn’t you be?”

“no,” he answers confidently, reaching out and pulling you in by the waist. “i’m kind of a big deal around here. you certainly can’t do better than me.

“doctor,” one of your medical students interrupts, poking her head into the room. “the general mahamatra is in need of medical attention. he’s asked for you, specifically.”

wait, cyno? asking for you?

this information doesn’t seem to puzzle you the way it does him, and you press a quick kiss to alhaitham’s lips, smiling. “i’ll be right there.”

and if alhaitham hovers a little too closely, shooting daggers over the top of his book while you clean up and stitch the wound on cyno’s unfortunately well-sculpted abdomen, laughing at his every awful joke— you simply smirk, choosing not to say anything.

💀

show, don't tell:

anticipation - bouncing legs - darting eyes - breathing deeply - useless / mindless tasks - eyes on the clock - checking and re-checking

frustration - grumbling - heavy footsteps - hot flush - narrowed eyes - pointing fingers - pacing / stomping

sadness - eyes filling up with tears - blinking quickly - hiccuped breaths - face turned away - red / burning cheeks - short sentences with gulps

happiness - smiling / cheeks hurting - animated - chest hurts from laughing - rapid movements - eye contact - quick speaking

boredom - complaining - sighing - grumbling - pacing - leg bouncing - picking at nails

fear - quick heartbeat - shaking / clammy hands - pinching self - tuck away - closing eyes - clenched hands

disappointment - no eye contact - hard swallow - clenched hands - tears, occasionally - mhm-hmm

tiredness - spacing out - eyes closing - nodding head absently - long sighs - no eye contact - grim smile

confidence - prolonged eye contact - appreciates instead of apologizing - active listening - shoulders back - micro reactions