Ehe, For Scara (brainrot Is Reaching New Heights): “So Much Snark Today. Would A Hug Shut That Mouth

Warning: Murder (not you or him), Vampire Scaramouche, angst(?), yandere, attempted suicide (you), suicidal thoughts (you), power imbalance, locked up against your will, married against your will, many forcing stuff (nothing explicit), biting/drinking blood/sinking for fangs, Scara can read your thoughts, teleport, really strong. And an unnamed character.

This was so long for some reason, uhh.

Four years ago. You never found the reason and purpose of living. You were on the edge of a cliff, about to jump off and die.

Until someone held you so tightly... "My love..." A voice calls out, who?

"I'm not-" and you passed out.

You wake up groggily in a royal-ish and gothic like designed room, each and every corner lavishly designed and a portrait of a woman who looks like you lies there in the middle, with a man.

Then the said man appeared in your face.

"You're not even her..." He grumbles, "I want you to marry me." He proposes.

You were taken aback, who wouldn't be? A man abducts and suddenly proposes to marry you.

"..What—" he immediately interrupts you, "I am not giving you a choice." He states

...and that's how your life ended, where you found out that the man who abducted you was named Scaramouche. And he's not really a man per se, more of a vampire honestly.

And that just terrified you. Because what? Scaramouche is basically that one vampire your town had angered because they ended up murdering his wife!

Not only that, why would anyone save you at all? When you have done nothing for the town and the town literally wants you gone... You're left with no choice honestly.

You don't even know why it hurts you, but, you found out that the only reason he wanted to marry you was because you looked similar to his late lover... It shouldn't really hurt you.

So you're just outside, just in his garden, the moonlight hovering above you. You sighed...

Your life really ended. You can't even see the sun anymore...

The meals he ate that he demanded you to prepare for him like a wife should — terrified you...

He doesn't even love you...

And you're locked up in the castle because of his paranoia.

Sometimes you wished you could just run away.. but where? Where would you go? You have nowhere to go.

You can't really go anywhere...

You just wish you could die.

You shut your eyes and deeply inhaled.. and exhaled. Then you open your eyes only to see the one who ended your life — Scaramouche.

He looked upset.. I mean, he always looked upset, his eyebrows are always furrowed, his lips are always curved into a frown, his dead indigo eyes are always dead... And when he's more mad than ever? He'd have an eerie forced smile on his face... Or a death glare.. he's really just unpredictable, it scares you. Everything about him scares you.

"Why are you outside? I've been looking for you." He spoke, and you averted your gaze and sat up. "I was just—"

"Can you stop it?" He snapped, you're confused as your eyebrows furrowed and you look at him. "What?"

"You are aware I can hear your thoughts no? I could hear from a mile away how much you want to die.. to get away from me. It irritates me. Stop it." He demands, you avert your gaze, your lips pressing into a firm line.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He's agitated, why are you so meek?

When he wants to see his first late lover unto you, he can't, he just sees you, and it's making him annoyed that his dead heart is starting to beat because of you, it irritates him.

Every little thing you do. Why can't you just do it for the sake of doing it? Why are you doing it for him? When he does see you do something for yourself — it's even worse! It's either running away or dying. He hates it. Stop.

He couldn't help himself but hold your arms firmly, at least firmly to his standard, but bruising to you. He stares you down as you look at him, why? Why are you so different from her?

His mouth slipped that question and you're just confused even more.

The more you keep on thinking of dying, the more he imagines you dead, the more he gets scared. He doesn't want to admit it, but he fell for how you are, for how different you are, from just yourself...

Maybe fell is an understatement... He's obsessed with it.

He wants to see more of you. He wants to see you act like him... He wants you to be an actual wife of his.. someone he can live his undying life with... Someone that isn't his dead lover. He can never replace his dead lover, but he definitely can be with you.

The fact that despite all these thoughts of dying and things, you stayed with him. You didn't run when he gave you so many opportunities to, you didn't get away from him.. you practically signed up for this didn't you?

You practically wanted him to never ever want you to die and to be gone ever again...

So stop it.

Stop trying to die.

Stop.

He can't let you die. No.

His grip is still firm on your shoulders as he gets on his knees — to your level — then places his face to your neck, nuzzling it (making you shiver).

Then opening his mouth, and bite.

He just bit your neck, and your face paled as the pain hit you. As you feel his fangs sink into your neck.

You're a weak mortal. You also have a weak mindset. So.. even though it takes time, he'll definitely turn you into a vampire so you can stay with him forever.

He never wants to tell you at all, but.. he's actually done this already when he started falling for you two years ago in your four year relationship.

Whenever you slumber in the chamber he gave you, so vulnerably sleeping, your neck to your shoulders exposed for him to feed on? He just can't keep his fangs out of it. You're practically begging to be with him forever with that.

So he'll do as you told him to. He'll make you a vampire so you could be with him. You asked for it, no?

Well either way, you never really had a choice.

You begged, you begged him to stop, you tangled your fingers in his indigo locks, trying to push him away, but he won't budge.

He just continued for a solid minute and stopped, some blood dripping off his lips. As he looked at you and then the bite mark, then to you.

And with his strength, he carried you and teleported to your chambers and threw you on the soft mattress.

Then laying on top of you as he caresses your face softly, his eyes focused as he murmured things that you couldn't make out (it was a love confession).

You opened your mouth to ask, but he quickly interrupted you, he always interrupted you whenever you spoke, it honestly made you feel disrespected, but he doesn't really care about that in the moment.

"You asked for it." That's all he said before he forces you to tilt your head as he sinks his fangs into the same bite mark on your neck, and proceeds to do the painful procedure of turning a human into a vampire...

You wouldn't really be at the same level as him because you were turned into a vampire, but he liked it that way.. because that meant he'd still be superior to you and have some kind of power and control over you.

Like he said... You asked for it the moment you decided to not leave when you had a chance. And you never really had a choice.

I was inspired to do this because of a certain friend of mine (ahem ahem @tnsophiaonly) having suicidal thoughts and having a fixation to vampires (specifically Scaramouche), and yandere ig.

TO PEOPLE HAVING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS OR HAS ATTEMPTED IT, PLEASE SEEK HELP, YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

And @tnsophiaonly YOU GOT INTO THAT INCIDENT BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO DIE FROM IT??? I am so tying you up after you get out of the hospital

Title: Rotting Divinity.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.9k.

TW: Reader Is Referred To As A Shrine Maiden But Gender Neutral, Set A Few Years After Dottore Starts Experimenting On Scaramouche, Unhealthy Relationships, Obsessive Behavior, Kidnapping, Themes of Chronic Illness, and Mentions of Human Experimentation.

Scaramouche opened his eyes as the sun set, casting the sky a dull pinkish blue. You were standing above him, a straw basket on your hip and a frown tugging on the corners of your lips.

He let a groan as he hauled himself into a more dignified position, palms planted in the raw dirt and dried grass caught in his hair. One glance was spared to establish that he was no longer in the Doctor’s cramped observation room, all cold stone walls and porcelain tables with leather straps stapled into each corner, before his attention settled on you. “Mortal,” he barked, speaking loudly enough to hear himself over the pain still buzzing in his skull. “Which island is this?”

“Yashiori, near Serpent’s Head,” you muttered, disappointment heavy in your tone. When he clicked his tongue, you went on, your frown deepening. “You ruined my herb garden.”

Had he? He couldn’t remember anything after the Doctor worked those long, tapered needles underneath the skin of his forearms; after an iron mask was forced over his mouth and nose and he began to think his body may tear itself apart before that sadist had the chance to. He wasn’t supposed to be in Serpent’s Head. He wasn’t supposed to be on Yashiro at all. He hadn’t meant to be here, and yet, he’d be thrown in a cage of iron bars and subjected to another round of testing as soon as he trudged back to that dungeon of a facility. Thinking about the feeling of thick, pulsing electricity coursing through his hollow limbs was enough to send a familiar bolt of agony down the length of his spine. It was little more than a phantom, a shadow of the torture it would take to unlock his truepotential, but it was enough to leave him curling into himself involuntarily, glaring at the soil with a hollow type of malice.

He would’ve recovered in a second – less than a second, a moment, a breath – if you hadn’t fallen to your knees at his side, cooing as you pressed the back of your hand into his forehead. “Are you hurt?” If he’d tried to answer, his response would’ve been lost to your fussing, the way you hummed and shook your head as you hauled him to his feet. “Body aches? Migraines? Whatever it is—” An arm was drawn over your shoulders, his weight forcibly rested on you. “—I’m sure I have something for it inside. A place for you to rest, too – however you got here, the journey had to be burdensome.”

He considered protesting. Even in the state he’d been reduced to, it would’ve taken nothing to pry himself away from you, to shatter your ankles underneath his heel and leave you begging for the mercy of the creature you’d tried to pity. He could’ve penned a letter to the Doctor as you bled out in the soil of your own garden, recovered his strength as he took your body apart and fed your remains, piece by piece, to whatever scavengers would have you. He could’ve, if he’d wanted to. He could’ve, but then, he saw what you were wearing.

The sleeves of your kosode were rolled neatly to the elbow, the hems of your pleaded hakama dusted with dirt and grass stains. Unlike the maidens of Watatsumi and the Grand Narukami Shrine, you wore neither red nor blue, but white. Pure, never-ending white.

Scaramouche went limp in your hold, his eyes falling shut as you let out a surprised laugh, doing your best to accommodate his now-dead weight. He could kill you tomorrow, he figured. It was already dusk, and while he didn’t mind traveling at night, he knew the Doctor wouldn’t begin to wonder where he was until the sun rose tomorrow morning. He wasn’t a dog, eager to crawl home and prove his obedience. He could wait until he was called for.

At least, by then, your worrying might’ve done something to dull the burn of the electricity underneath his skin.

~

“So, you’re telling me that this is a waste of time.”

You ignored him with a light hum, a quick movement of your tasseled gohei. Normally, daily rites were something to be performed quickly and efficiently before the unlucky shrine maiden responsible for carrying them out returned to scrubbing floorboards and disturbing fortunes, but in a life as slow as yours, with so little to occupy the many hours of your countless days, even repetitive tasks such as this were given an unnecessarily artistic flourish. Scaramouche might’ve called it indulgent, if he ever decided to be so kind to you.

Currently, you were dancing in front of a dilapidated shrine at the base of the snake’s skull; the paint mostly chipped away and the wood close to rotting. You’d explained, four days after he first allowed you to haul him into your ancient cabin, that you would be responsible for rebuilding it once it inevitably collapsed, an honor only bestowed upon caretakers every few centuries, and he’d told you that you ought to save yourself a few decades and tear it down that day, but you’d only laughed. Most things he said made you laugh.

He'd noticed early on that you were of a weak constitution. Dark bags circled under your eyes despite how often and how deeply you slept, and you seemed unable to carry anything heavier than what could fit in one of your woven baskets. There should’ve been another shrine keeper, if not several. And, if there could only be one, then it shouldn’t have been you.

Still, Scaramouche was glad that you had been chosen, even if you were a bad fit for the position. If it’d been anyone else, he would’ve had to get rid of them days ago, and he was thankful to be spared the effort.

“It’s not,” you said, consciously clipping his choice of words. You finished your rite with a deep bow, then turned to Scaramouche. “Shows of dedication make him happy.”

“He being…” His gaze drifted upward, to the fanged skull. Orobashi no Mikoto – the beast’s name provided by some nameless well of knowledge that seemed to linger in the space between the back of his throat and the pit of his chest. Consciously, the only title Scaramouche had ever thought to put to the serpent was that of ‘festering remains’. “…the fucking corpse?”

“If you keep using that kind of language, you might have to start sleeping outside.” You took up the basket of lavender melons you’d (admittedly, unwisely) left in his care, snatching it away before he could add to the small pile of black seeds stacked on his opposite side. Your hastiness left one of the rounder melons toppling over the well-worn edge, though, and he caught it with a single hand, grinning as he dug his teeth into the ripe flesh and claimed it for himself. You rolled your eyes, but quickly occupied yourself with clearing away yesterday’s fruit from the shrine. “It’s not complicated. We keep him happy, hold our rites and make our sacrifices, and he ensures that my crops grow quickly and the village prospers.” A pause, a smile thrown carelessly over your shoulder. You smiled as easily as you laughed, something that irritated Scaramouche to no end. “If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be recovering half as quickly as you are.”

Right. It was too easy to forget that there was a pretense to his time with you; that he was supposed to be some wayward, ailing traveler with a mysterious condition your charms and cures could only keep at bay. He wasn’t lying to you. All he did was lie back and let you fuss over his nonexistent pulse, the bloodless pallor of his skin, the way his temperature never seemed to rise above that of damp clay. He wasn’t like the Doctor – scheming and underhanded, prone to leading his victims in circles before gifting them with the mercy of a slow death – or the priestess he could only vaguely remember from his first days, all dark eyes and whispers of a merciful death. You liked doting on him, and he didn’t mind keeping his mouth shut.

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” He dug his teeth into the lavender melon as you gathered your things, sugary juice turning his lips tacky as he went on. “I’ve always been hard to kill.”

You came to stand above him, your smile small and eyes vaguely narrowed. “If you’re feeling that strong,” you started, holding your now-emptied basket in front of you. “Then you shouldn’t mind weeding the garden and fetching water, this afternoon.”

It only took him a moment to think to protest, but you were already gone, stumbling down the mountainside as he hastily pushed himself to his feet. He called your name, but he could already hear your voice – rising above his in one of your obnoxiously repetitive hymns and drowning him out as he chased after you.

~

The villagers welcomed you as sheep welcomed field dogs; from a distance.

Scaramouche trailed behind you as you plodded through the humble village, humming and clutching your basket close to your chest, fiddling nervously with the pure-white material of your sleeves. The crowd parted around you, twin walls of watchful eyes and hushed voices forming well-ahead of your path and collapsing as you strode past them, either unable or unwilling to acknowledge the thick silence that seemed to hang over you like a shroud. Occasionally, you’d stop at a stall or a doorway, handing off bundles of wrapped herbs to gloved and trembling hands, and less often, you’d send him a smile over your shoulder, your tired eyes wrinkling at the corners, as if apologizing that he had to come along for such a dull errand. That was how you described it, when he asked where you went off to every few days. ‘Just a quick errand,’ you’d said, as you tried to convince him to stay behind yet again. When he cited your poor health and his growing concern that he’d find you dead in that garden of yours one day, you didn’t waver. ‘You’ll only be bored if you come. The villagers aren’t very friendly.’

Scaramouche decided, mostly on a whim, that he would burn down this village before he returned to the Doctor. If he had time.

He moved to rush forward, to place himself at your side, but a hand shot out of a narrow alleyway and caught him by the wrist. It was a middle-aged blacksmith, judging by the ash smeared across his cheeks, the thick apron hanging from his neck. Scaramouche was quick to pull out of his filthy grasp, but he spoke regardless, his voice low and rough. “Mind your distance, boy.” A glance towards you, a deep sneer. “Don’t you know who that is?”

Scaramouche glanced over him, fighting the urge to scoff. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”

“That’s no healer, that’s the shrine maiden.” He said it as if he’d caught Scaramouche attempting to throw himself into a rifthound’s mouth. “They cultivate the serpent’s remains. You’ll be dead in a week if you—”

This time, Scaramouche was the one to reach out, his hand wrapping around the blacksmith’s neck. By instinct, a bolt of pure, searing electro shot from his palm into the man’s neck, leaving him limp and convulsing in Scaramouche’s hold. Scaramouche released him as the last of the aftershocks faded, watching him collapse to the ground before planting his heel on the man’s diaphragm, prepared to shift his weight and crush whatever laid below his foot should the blacksmith say something to displease him.

“I’ll ask again,” he said, slowly, ozone thick in the air. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”

~

Scaramouche returned to your cabin closer to sunrise than sunset. Somewhere, back in the village that he would see reduced to embers if it was his last act on the face of Teyvat, the charred remains of a blacksmith smoldered at the bottom of a stone well, and he opened the door to your ramshackle home with enough force to tear the rotted piece of wood from its hinges.

You were kneeling beside your work table, grinding dried lavender petals into a fine powder. He closed the space between you in a breath, knocked the pestle from your hand in another, then collapsed beside you. “You’re going to die?”

You eyed the spilled lavender wearily. “Even the archons will fall, eventually.”

He let out a ragged sob, burying his face in the dip of your shoulder. You allowed him to, your arms coming up to wrap loosely around him. You’d always been weak, but now, you seemed as feeble as a morning gale.

He was unable to speak, so you took up the mantle, tracing idle patterns into the base of his spine as you went on. “I know what they tell newcomers, about dead gods and their rot, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. He gifts us with herbs to cure our sick and soothe our elders and in return, someone sacrifices a few years. The villagers might not be able to linger, but they make sure I’m taken care of.” He felt you smile, heard you laugh. “So long as I get to help people, I don’t mind making sacrifices.”

“Other people don’t matter.” It took him longer than he cared to admit to pry himself away from you, to straighten his back and drag a deep breath into his aching lungs. He was thankful, not for the first time, that he couldn’t cry. You would only think him irrational if he fell apart so visibly. “How long do you have?”

Your head lulled to the side, your attention drifting to some indistinguishable point on the far wall. “Only the gods can say what fate has—”

“How long?”

“…another year.” Your tone carried a sort of detached acceptance, as if you couldn’t summon the energy to care. “Maybe two. The last caretaker was very fortunate – he survived half a decade in his position.”

He tried to speak, to scream at you for not telling him sooner, but his voice caught in his throat and you reached up, cupping his face in both hands. Slowly, with a dry chuckle, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. The cool porcelain of his skin sapped the warmth from yours, but for once, you didn’t seem to mind his unusual anatomy. “I hope I’ll be able to cure you, before I’m gone.” You were mumbling, now, speaking barely above your breath. “Do you think you’ll be able to stay for a little longer?”

He tried to answer, but you’d fallen asleep on top of him by the time he opened his mouth.

~

He left the next morning, while you were still tucked underneath a small pile of furs and quilts. A letter was penned and sent to the Doctor’s base, a caddy of wildflower seeds purchased from a young girl peddling wares by the side of the road, and he returned to your cabin just as your sleep turned restless. When you rose an hour past noon, he pestered you into taking him to the groove near the shoreline. By the time you returned, chiding him for distracting you from your responsibilities and pointedly ignoring the basket full of fruit at your hip, the sun was low in the sky and masked soldiers had stamped your garden into the ground. Your cabin was in flames and your shrine had been reduced to little more than a pillar of smoke in the distance.

Whatever concern you might’ve held for him was immediately forgotten. Dropping your basket, you moved to run towards the embers of your home, but Scaramouche caught you – one hand on your shoulder, another on your waist. Careful not to break what couldn’t be repaired, he forced you onto your knees, letting you scratch at his wrists as you screamed, the noise anguished and ragged. Masked soldiers gathered in the outskirts of his vision, but he bared his teeth, keeping them at a distance as you thrashed in his steadfast hold. Once he took you somewhere else, somewhere better, you’d be able to calm down.

Once he got you away from your rotting god and your unthankful village, you’d be able to worship something worth your time.

A moment passed, then another. Finally, the Doctor emerged from the crowd, his white coat unmarred by the ash in the air. He regarded you with a grin, then looked to Scaramouche. “This is the filthy toy you’d like to take home?”

It was a foolish question, undeserving of an answer. Scaramouche countered with one of his own. “Can you fix them?”

“Can I save a human being who’s been brought to the brink of death and infected thoroughly with the rot of divine remains?” The Doctor hummed, clicked his tongue. “That depends, little puppet. How much time are you willing to spend on my vivisection table?”

Scaramouche glowered, but he didn’t protest. Rather, he pulled you close – your crying softer, now, your struggling impossibly weak – and held you against his chest as he responded. “Do what you have to. They’ll be staying in my chambers, and you won’t lay a hand on them without my permission, doctor.”

“I do wish you could call me Dottore.” He sighed, shaking his head. His acquiescence was communicated with a dismissive roll of his wrist, a silent order communicated to his lackeys. His soldiers moved to take you up, but he kept you in his arms as he pushed himself back to his feet, letting you cling to and beat against his chest in tandem.

Your voice was hoarse, your shoulders trembling. Tears streamed freely from your eyes, and he allowed himself to wonder how poorly you would take it if he ran his tongue over your cheeks. “You— You monster. Hundreds of people will—"

“You said you wanted to stay with me, right?” His smile wasn’t as soft as yours, as comforting, but he did what he could. You let out another agonized sob, crumbling against him as he let his lips ghost over your forehead, speaking against your skin and above your wordless cries.

“Now, there’ll be nothing in the world capable of taking you away from me.”

Hiii~

Can I request aventurine and Dr ratio (separately or together ur choice) with klee reader

Maybe Sunday too?

I just want chaos to unfold-

Take care ☺️

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋʟᴇᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

pairings - sunday & klee! reader / aventurine & klee! reader / dr ratio & klee! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ klee! reader/ platonic relationships/ familial relationships/ chaos

warnings - a bit of angst (?), might be ooc i'm sorry guys T_T

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ Whether you met Sunday because you’ve been unknowingly stirring up trouble in the dreamscapes or you met him by chance, he’d be a bit worried and concerned about a child roaming alone in Penacony

↺ He may or may not slowly adopt you into his routine as he always finds himself being greeted by you on the streets of Penacony (or called by a family member because mayhem has been occurring in certain parts of the dreamscapes)

↺ Gazing upon the damage you had done in the dreamscape as you stared at him with wide innocent eyes, he couldn’t be upset with you but rather surprised by how much power this unknown child has

↻ Sunday would be a lot like Jean, but he’d be a little more lenient when it comes to you

↺ He’d probably have a small area/room that’s your designated play area whenever you’re with him and sometimes he’d have to give you a time-out for blowing up something in the dreamscape

↺ Said time out wouldn’t last long as he’d feel guilty looking at your saddened state

↻ Sometimes whenever the other family members had a meeting with Sunday, they would see you playing around with your favorite stuffed animal but wouldn’t dare question your presence (you had quite the reputation for being.. explosive…)

↻ I think when it comes to each character with a Klee! Reader, they’d have those animal backpacks with the leash attached to it just because you’re so chaotic

↺ One moment they would be walking with you and then the next you’ve run off to somewhere that caught your attention

↺ For Sunday’s mental well-being, he got you this backpack to help him keep an eye on you whenever you were distracted

↻ As I mentioned in previous posts, Sunday, whenever he’s anxious or worried for you, would pace around his office with his feathers just puffing up and some of them popping right off due to his stress

↺ When you are found safe and sound, he’d give you a tight hug and you’d start playing with the feathers that were scattered on the ground

↺ He’s.. amused by it

↻ Honestly, Sunday had no idea what to do with you as you were found to be alone and it didn’t seem like you knew any of your family members (Just going to ignore Albedo and Klee’s mother for my sake…)

↺ Eventually, he warmed up to you a lot and considers you his little sister, which Robin also adores having around

↻ Sunday would be very protective of you but a little.. nervous about your abilities, he knew to an extent you were capable of handling things yourself

↺ But you are still a child so he’s extra cautious about the dangers in the dreamscapes and makes sure that you don’t get into trouble

↺ Otherwise, he’d have to confiscate your bombs.. which he really didn’t want to do because then you’d be super upset

↺ He tried to confiscate them one time but that ended up with you ignoring him for the remainder of the day and you were sulking in your playroom

↻ Sunday, during the Charmony Festival, would keep a very close eye on you because of what has been going on within Penacony

↺ He’ll keep you in his line of sight at all times, whether it’s him personally accompanying you around or having you sit near him in his conference room, he wouldn’t want you wandering too far off

↺ You’d find Sunday mumbling to himself while looking at some documents, but you never really understood them so you always stuck to what you were doing

↻ Sunday is very fond of you, and he’d do anything to ensure your safety

-----

Sunday was seated at his conference table, hand holding his chin in thought as he scanned through the multitude of documents. He carefully looked them over and over again, thoroughly reading through the letters written by a family member he assigned an assignment to. 

With the Charmony Festival coming in full swing, Sunday wanted to make sure that things would run as smoothly as possible, despite the growing concern that was nagging him from the depths of his consciousness. He couldn’t afford to become distracted…

That is what he thought, but yet he still found himself engaging in your little antics. Although things were growing busier and busier by the day, he wanted to ensure that you were alright and safe, playing a couple of your games when you pleaded for him to stay. He didn’t find the idea of playing with bombs safe, but if it was what made you happy, then your wish was his command.

As he stood up to roam the halls of his mansion, he gazed out into the open through the grand windows, a million thoughts racing through his mind. The future of Penacony contained countless outcomes and he could only grow restless every time he thought of it. But having you around to distract him from his worries with your silly antics, even if for just a fleeting moment, made him feel as if everything was going to be alright…

He would make sure of that.

-----

↻ Aventurine would also find your chaotic nature interesting, in fact, he might even indulge in it by taking a role in your little schemes

↺ He’d be a little concerned when you go a bit too far with your bombs and antics, so he’d try nudging you into a not-so-concerning situation

↻ Aventurine would find you when you got into a little scuffle with his subordinates, somehow destroying some IPC property and getting an earful from his coworkers

↺ Those IPC grunts would be terrified of you if they saw what you could do, especially because you’re a CHILD playing with BOMBS (They’re seriously concerned about who raised you and why you are the way you are.. or how you even managed to have bombs on you??)

↻ He’d send them off to go do something else (or to go bother someone else..) and bend down to your level to ask about your guardians or caregiver

↺ When you are confused about what he is talking about, his concern would only grow before he’d take you to find a trusted person to watch over you as he was busy with an assignment

↺ However, he would only come back to find that you escaped a worker’s watchful gaze and were playing with that bomb toy you had on you (Docodo? Cododo?? Whatever you said its name was…)

↻ When Aventurine hangs around you a little more during his free time (whether he’s done with work or doesn’t feel up to gambling), inquiring about the little fella you had on you and about your background

↺ He’d kind of take you under his wing from there on out, having you accompany him on missions if he determined they weren’t dangerous and were minor assignments

↺ Topaz would find it surprising seeing him around with a little kid, she’d even be wary about his intentions with you as he had suddenly popped up with a small kid out of nowhere

↺ She’d introduce you to Numby who, to your delight, would play and spend a bit of time with you

↻ Sometimes you’d accompany Aventurine on his casino trips, but he’d try leaving you out of them as it wasn’t really a kid-friendly setting

↺ So sometimes you’d in up in a more appropriate setting like a small daycare where you were safe (yet you’d sometimes pop up next to him in a game and catch him off guard)

↻ Aventurine, as someone with a lot of money to freely spend, would spoil you with a variety of things that he’d think you would like

↺ You aren’t necessarily a spoiled child, but he’d still get you the things that have caught your interest, whether you voice what you liked or not

↻ When he passes by a shop that has a showcase of kid backpacks, he would see one with a plush animal and a leash and he’d automatically get it for you 

↺ You wouldn’t really care about the leash part as you’re too distracted by the cute plush animal backpack, so it really was no problem for Aventurine

↺ He’d be walking around the IPC’s headquarters or Penacony with the backpack leash in his hand, you following him yet straying whenever you saw something

↺ He’d have to give the leash a small tug to make sure you weren’t wandering too far off though

↻ If you did something dangerous such as blowing up something that belongs to the IPC, Aventurine would vouch for you, becoming your partner in crime (Him sending a sly wink your way as you giggle innocently, hands covering your mouth to stifle your laughter) 

↺ Topaz would be the one scolding you before Aventurine tries defending your honor, but then he’d end up getting scolded by her too

↻ Aventurine would try his best to protect your innocence, not wanting you to see the dangers that linger on the different worlds he ends up on or what may invade the IPC’s headquarters

↺ He’s seen and witnessed firsthand hand of losing his innocence at a young age, those memories of his past still haunt him to this day and he doesn’t want you living with the same burden so he tries his best to protect you from danger (even if you’re somewhat capable of protecting yourself)

-----

“_____, did you destroy a piece of the IPC’s belongings again!?” Topaz asked, a stern look on her face as you stood there innocently with your hands tucked behind your back. 

“No… I didn’t do anything I swear! You can even ask Dodoco!” You answered, shoving Dodoco out in front of you as if to emphasize your statement. Topaz sighed, shaking her head.

“_____… I know you want to play around but sometimes you need to be careful of where you are. You could get hurt or, well.. damage things that aren’t yours.” Crossing her arms, Topaz looked at you with a softer gaze. You persisted in your stance. 

“But I swear! I didn’t do it!” You cried out, holding Dodoco closer to your chest. “Y-you can even ask Mr. Aventurine!”

“I heard my name?” Aventurine slinked to the spot right next to you, giving Topaz a questioning yet sly look. Topaz couldn’t help but groan when he popped up next to you, feeling as if she was on the verge of being teamed up against. 

“Mr. Aventurine! Please tell Miss Topaz that I wasn’t the one who blew up some of the IPC’s equipment!” You begged, tugging at his coat as he looked down at you with his cat-like eyes. 

He gave you a closed-eyed smile, patting the top of your head. “Is that what’s going on? Well, I have unfortunate news for you Topaz, as little _____ here was busy helping me out with an assignment.” Aventurine had a smug smile on his face as if to tease Topaz and tick her off, which worked.

Topaz, rolling her eyes, heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, I believe you, _____. You can go run off and play now.” 

With a joyful smile on your face and a cheer, you thanked Topaz before turning to thank Aventurine, bowing slightly with a quiet giggle.

“Thank you Mr. Aventurine! Promise we’ll play next time?” 

“I promise, _____. Now go play with Dodoco in your room, okay? I’ll check up on you later when I’m done with work.” 

“Okay!” 

-----

↻ Dr Ratio wasn’t necessarily fond of children…

↺ He understood that they weren’t the brightest of stars, but he could barely handle some of the behaviors they exhibited

↺ I imagine he’d be so disgusted because of how kids can be known for doing the weirdest stuff… (Picking their boogers, touching a variety of items, being unsanitary... the list goes on)

↻ When he meets you for the first time, he’s curious about the construction of your bombs and how you were able to make them

↺ To his disappointment, you are only able to draw crude drawings of the construction of your bombs and poorly explain how you built them

↺ He takes it upon himself to sample one of your bombs to see what they’re made of and how they’re made

↻ You’d invite him (more like drag him) to help you create and play with your bombs and he’d reluctantly follow you to where your room is

↺ Aventurine walking in on you playing dolls (or your bombs) with Ratio

-----

“How are you doing?”

“Mister Ratio, say it in your girl voice.”

“Sigh… How you doin’? 💅”

*Aventurine laughing before Ratio throws the doll he’s holding at him*

-----

↻ Ratio, knowing him, would tutor you if you went to a daycare or school, helping you understand your homework and teaching you about different subjects

↺ You wouldn’t comprehend half the things he’s teaching you but you follow along anyway

↺ Ratio would be genuinely happy if you were able to learn something new from him and apply it to your life

↻ Ratio is the type of teacher figure to give you random quizzes to test your knowledge and understanding but he rewards you with things like snacks or trinkets he gets from his trips

↻ Ratio would be delighted to talk about his trips to you, explaining the history and geography of the planets he has traveled to you when he comes back

↺ He would draw a small map for you to understand the general location of the places he’s visited

↻ You’d be excited to learn about what places he’s seen and you’d ask him a myriad of questions to which he’d patiently listen and answer 

↺ The thought of Ratio being patient with a young child warms my heart, this is how he’d find out that maybe he can tolerate specific kids

↻ Ratio reading stories to you to help you fall asleep, but those stories would probably be academic books he uses to teach his students

↻ If you were to get in trouble for blowing something up, he’d show his disappointment and sternly give you a punishment that isn’t too harsh on you (he’d give you school work lol)

↺ Ratio would check in on you here and there when you’re in your room, if he finds that you’re asleep he’d tuck you in before looking over your work

↺ This makes me think of Ratio walking in to see that you had drawn him an artwork of the both of you with Dodoco (who he came to know as your prized friend)

↻ Ratio doesn’t have a clue who your parents or guardians are, so he tries to locate them at first to no avail (he ends up pretty much adopting you as his own kid)

↻ Sometimes you’d sit near his desk in his lecture hall when he was teaching his students, swinging your legs back and forth as you eyed everyone in the room

↺ His students find you adorable and get distracted by your presence at first before their professor sends them a chalk their way

↺ His students give you little gifts or snacks as they leave the room, a part of them hoping that Ratio’s rampage on his grade book will be softened by your happiness at the gifts you received

↺ He finds out what his students are doing, but lets them do it anyway since it’s making you happy (he’d probably set some limits though before you get way too much stuff)

-----

Veritas had just finished up his lecture with his students, organizing their work into neat stacks on one side of his desk. Once the last student had left his classroom, he took off his plaster head and sat it in front of him. In his peripheral vision, he saw a small empty chair to the left of his desk. It was where you normally sat. 

The violet-haired man was then reminded of your absence due to the sudden sickness you had caught the day before. With a sigh, he turned back towards the ungraded stacks of paper on his desk and got to work. He’d try to be home before midnight. 

…..

By the time he finished, it was already 9. Walking out of the campus, he was met with the emptiness the night brought with it. Students were already long gone, the handful of teachers that had stayed late already packed up and left for dinner, but he was running a bit late. So with a brisk pace, he set off in the direction of his home, the cool night air hitting his skin.

Once Veritas reached his destination, he quickly unlocked the door and went inside, the warmth of his home greeting him. His shoulders fell, the weight that had been put upon himself leaving his body as he could see a faint light coming from your room. 

Slipping off his outerwear, he quietly walked across the hardwood floors and stopped outside of your bedroom door. Veritas listened for any signs that you might be awake, but nothing. He placed his hand on the door and gently pushed it open so he was able to enter. 

You had left your bedside lamp on, with a couple of papers and crayons scattered across the desk you normally drew at. His eyes had landed on your small, curled-up form, snoring away beneath the comforters of your bed. He softly chuckled to himself, walking towards your bed and lifting the blanket so it reached your shoulders. You had stirred but only shuffled to get comfortable. Placing a small kiss on your forehead, Veritas got up to put away the crayons and papers you had left out.

While picking up and putting away the crayons in the correct order that was directed on the box, the bright, grainy colors on a paper caught his eye. He gently picked up a piece of paper that you seemed to have been working on while he was gone. It was a drawing of the both of you in a field of flowers, your best friend, Dodoco, in between the both of you. Veritas had to admit that it was cute, a small smile appearing on his face before he gathered the rest of your drawings and slid them into a folder. 

When he had finished making sure that everything was neatly put away, Veritas moved to turn off the lamp, wishing you sweet dreams. 

-----

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - hey ya'll.. nice weather we've got here... 😀 i really need to blast through my requests-- wearesobackipromise.

Showering Them With Kisses (anywhere but his lips!) 

Featuring : Aventurine, Sunday, and Veritas Ratio (separate)

Aventurine

You sat on his lap as he's working on his tablet. The two of you are enjoying his free time at home, on top of his spacious bed and surrounded by his cat cakes. You stare at his handsome face, his pink eyes’ focus solely on his tab. Feeling left out, you tug on his sleepwear’s sleeve to gain his attention. 

“Hmm?” He's clearly still invested in his work. Even with you sitting on his lap. The audacity. 

“Are you done working?”

“Just a little more, honey. I'm about to hit the greatest sale of the month,” You can see a slight smirk forms on his face, Aventurine clearly enjoys the attention. 

“What about a little game?” His ears perked at your suggestion as he took a small glance at your face before continuing to tinker with his device again. 

“Do tell me,”

“If I can distract you from your tab, you'll leave it for the night!” One of his eyebrows lifts up at the suggestion. 

“Interesting.” He grins, “You must know that I won't relent on challenges, dear. If I managed to stay focused for another fifteen minutes, you'll cook breakfast for the rest of the week” 

“A little bit unfair, but deal!” And thus your small game begins. 

You start to kiss the shell on his ear, you can feel him shudder at the smallest contact and you smirked. The kiss trails to the side of his face, you hold his head gently so he won't back away from you and you continue to kiss on his soft cheek. You lifted your position to reach the corner of his eyes. Aventurine's hold on the tablet starts to stutter and you now slot yourself between him and his tablet. You kiss his temple, up to his forehead and back down to his other cheek. Your lover's resolve starts to crumble as he places his tab down on top of one of the critters. He pulls you closer to him while giggling at your endless kisses. It hasn't been five minutes yet. 

The blond tried to kiss your lips as you keep purposefully avoiding it, only for you to turn your head away. Aventurine frowns at the gesture. 

“Hey, what's with the selective kisses?”

“Every game needs a plan, my dear gambler. It distracts you and works perfectly doesn't it?” He chuckled at your jest before he managed to steal a kiss from you, leaving him wanting for more.

Sunday

He came back to your shared house with a huge scowl on his face. It seems that the endless hours of work, the dream master's unending list of tasks, and how he needs to keep his smile every time at all moments has taken its toll on him. You come to the living room to greet him, but he seems to try avoiding your gaze, not wanting to make you worry.

“What's wrong, love?” You walked to him only for him to sigh.

“Rough days as usual. It's nothing for you to worry about, my dearest. I'd rather have you to not… see me in such an improper state,” He smiles at you, earning the halovian a frown in return.

“That can't do,” He did plan to avoid you. Although, the moment you reached to hold his face, Sunday scrapped the plan and decided to indulge himself in your touch instead. You closed the gap by reaching to kiss his cheek. His wing flutters slightly at the affectionate gesture. He felt you hugging his waist as you pulled him to a nearby couch, sitting him down.

“What're you planning to do, dove?” You throw him a sly grin before letting yourself to sit on his lap while continuing to assault his face with kisses. As if his earlier burden steams away, the halovian let out small giggles at your kisses, feeling ticklish. You start to caress his left wing as you kiss his cheeks, moving to his forehead, the corner of his lips, his closed eye, his right wing, anywhere but his waiting lips.

You pulled back for a while to catch some breath before smothering him with more kisses. After you're satisfied, you take a good look at his now flustered face. His wings move in reflex to partially cover his red face.

“All better now, love?”

“I must say I'm a little disappointed. Despite your generous kisses, it seems that you've missed a certain spot,” Sunday gently grabs your hand for him to kiss your fingers, implying on his lips.

“That can wait after dinner, Angel”

Veritas Ratio

You can't stand him. You can't stand his assignments. He has been having a very hectic week. Just when he had come back from his visit to Herta's space station, more work came right to him, student's assessment, and these people who wanted their thesis to be assisted by him. You are now literally left out. As expected for being the famous Veritas Ratio's lover I suppose.

You drop by his office to give him his lunch. He looks up at the intrusion and he nods at you before he continues with his reports. You pouted at the view and you aggressively put down his lunchbox.

“Veritas, this is getting out of hand.” He sighed but he didn't move his eyes up from his papers.

“I know, I'm clearly doing everything as fast as I can so it will end faster. You should already know that having to spread righteousness is not an easy and instant task and patience breeds success. I'll be home tonight,” He didn't come home because he passed out at his office yesterday.

You walked to his side and leaned your face closer to his. He looks up to you so you use the chance to kiss his forehead. The scholar's face starts to let out a pinkish colour, flustered. You pepper his face with kisses, from his forehead down to his cheek, moving to his eyeliner and ending it on the tip of his perfectly sculpted nose. You teasingly place your lips dangerously close to his lips after. Just when he wanted to lean closer to kiss you, you pulled away from him. You giggled at his flushed state as you walked away from him. You had never seen him let out a frown that cute.

“My, my, that would be quite inappropriate behaviour to do in an academic environment, don't you think so, Doctor?” he groans at your jest.

“What a fool. Such a waste of time, you should be able to maximize your gain while you're at it,”

“Remember, Doctor,” He visibly rolls his eyes at how you keep calling him that instead of your usual sweet nicknames, “Patience breeds success, and I'm sure you're able to gain more of you came back home more often,” Before he can argue, you left his office with a permanent smirk etched to your face.

---

My inbox are still open, rules on my pinned post <3

more of dependent scaramouchie please??

CW: Yandere content, attempted suicide

--

"What's with that mopey look? I brought you tea, didn't I? The least you could do is drink it."

You didn't have the energy to glare at the one keeping you captive. You were sick of this. You can't keep living like this, stuck under his thumb.

Eyeing the teapot on the table, the gears in your head started to turn. you grabbed the teapot and threw it onto the ground, sharp shards and hot tea spilling onto the floor.

Before Scaramouche could do or say anything, you took one of the shards into your hand and brought it to your throat, intending to use it to end your miserable life.

"NO!"

He immediately leaped forward and grabbed your wrist before the shard could slice through your skin.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He yelled at you in desperation as you two became locked into a battle of strength. In with each of you trying to move your hand either towards your neck or away from it.

After much struggle he managed to snatch the shard from your grasp. "What were you thinking?"

"Why won't you let me die, damn it?"

"I am not letting you go, hear me. Not now, not ever." His lip quivered at the thought of you leaving him behind, betraying him like everyone else. "You're mine. You can't go."

--

making shrimp dishes for floyd. sinigang, fried shrimp, spicy shrimp. make him watch as i eat my fellow shrimp. slice of reality.

HAKAW HI SJAKDH I LAUGHED SM I CANT WITH THIS >>>>

masterlist

floyd leech ; 🌊

He watched carefully, stricken with all sorts of emotions as he watched you serve the shrimp, tangy and delicious as you licked your lips hungrily, wishing you could eat this in front of him.

You just smiled, like the innocent little prefect you are.

You smiled.

You then smiled sinisterly..

Floyd remained silent, eyes wide open as he watched you carefully, silently, staring as you continued putting plate upon plate of dishes of various shrimp on the table.

HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY??

"K-Koebi–chan. What the fuck are you—"

"Eat my brethren."

He paused.

You'd cook your own family? This turned into some Sweeney Todd shit fr-

Floyd raised his fork. Usually he'd love eating shrimp, he's a moray eel. It's in his diet! But for his own Shrimpy-chan TO COOK SHRIMP?? WHAT WAS HE TO SAY?

Does he call Jade? Does he run away or just submit to the agonising confusion and horrific reality of you deciding to boil your shrimpy brothers for each dish?

Azul watched from the side, eyeing every moment of the scene carefully as he did his best not to snort into a hysterical fit of laughter..

for once, he knows what it feels like to be terrified of someone else. Maybe that's why he loved you for giving him such a feeling nobody else could.

Hello! i absolutely love your work <33 can i request sagau scaramouche rates your taste in genshin boys pt 2. with diluc, kaeya and zhongli??

SAGAU SCARAMOUCHE RATES YOUR TASTE IN GENSHIN MEN PT. 2

❀ synopsis: you introduce your friend/unofficial sibling to your lover, what could possibly go wrong? everything...

❀ notes: AJNDJNEHBFH MY FIRST REQUEST!!! thank you so much for the support and reblogs, I'm also very honored you like my writing! here's the first part

❀ pronouns: none specified

Diluc Ragnvindr: 2/10

Diluc is this 🤏 close to receiving a 1/10 if he continues to invade you and Scaramouche's sibling bonding time. Obviously, the two don't get along (and will probably never get along) due to Diluc's past and Scara's trust issues, the two argue a lot about you while you're just there vibing with the lamp grass unaware of the commotion.

He's heard of it all, the youngest Cavalry Captain who left the Knights to pursue Monstadt's enemies alone. He'd sometimes use his knowledge of Diluc's past to provoke him, and boy does it provoke him. The two went into a full-blown fistfight at one point, with the occasional use of a vision since their weapons have been thrown aside by the other.

Scaramouche is clingy to the ones who stay by his side, and Diluc is protective of the ones he loves, so you can imagine what it was like when Diluc saw you walking along with Scaramouche (who Diluc knows as the Balladeer, the 6th harbinger of the Fatui) when you told him that you would be introducing a very close friend of yours. It started with Diluc carrying you on his shoulder and running away, with a wild Scaramouche on his tail. And ended with Diluc being treated by Barbara and Scaramouche being treated by Nahida.

You really have to manage your time here, the two won't ever get along and if you spend more time with the other, the one you didn't spend time with will go visit the other and start demanding that they leave you alone. Diluc would wonder how you could ever tolerate and even care for Scaramouche, whatever your reason is he wouldn't be able to understand. Scaramouche would ask when will you break up with Diluc, and would pout if you reply that you wouldn't break up with him.

Kaeya: 3/10

Just right next to Venti, and he would soon be ranked right next to his brother if Kaeya doesn't learn to shut the fuck up-

Arrogant, lazy, and a teasing prick. How many more traits can Kaeya have to piss people off? Scaramouche already looks down on humans, and seeing Kaeya with you disgusts him as he believes you deserve so much better. their first impressions of each other were bad, you can feel the tension in the air when the two just stood there with fake smiles.

He hates it when Kaeya tags along in your travels, even insisting on helping the both of you with your journeys when he has free time. Scaramouche would make a passive-aggressive comment on how the two of you don't need his help, and that you are both capable of defending each other. if you agreed to Kaeya joining Scaramouche would be appalled, before turning around so no one can see the expression on his face. Why did you agree??

The two are in a contest with how much they're provoking each other. If the other one breaks and lash out, the one who didn't wins. Their words to each other are sharp, and even when they're having a decent conversation with the other it's only when you're around, and even then it has slight undertones and hidden threats. Good lord, I hope you have a lot of patience.

Zhongli/Rex Lapis/Morax: 4/10

You know that situation where someone's little sister is dating a boy and the big brother tries to be intimidating but the boy she's dating is taller and stronger than the big brother. Yeah that's the situation Scaramouche is in, but you are not a little girl nor is Zhongli just a human boy.

He's very annoyed with the situation, he's supposed to be the reliable one! What is this skyscraper of a man doing here?! Ngl he might be a tad bit insecure with the situation and would be at arm's length around you the entire time Zhongli was around the both of you. After the first few weeks of introducing him to Zhongli Scaramouche would notice just how pathetic this man is for you, and would find it amusing to watch.

Though it would soon turn to annoyance when Zhongli slowly starts dedicating all his time to you and going as far as to do his paperwork right next to you. This pet of yours is slowly turning into a pest, and he wants to get rid of it immediately. Zhongli would notice how Scaramouche is excluding him from your travels and would confront him about it in private. After the confrontation the atmosphere between the two became suffocating.

The only thing holding back Zhongli from throwing an entire mountain at the child was the fact that you and Scaramouche have a bond similar to siblings. The two of you insult each other but it never held any sort of ill-intent, and you both travel together frequently. Zhongli would rather die than be hated by you, and killing/hurting Scaramouche is a one-way ticket to being hated. So for now, he would just try to spend as much time with you, even if it means being next to the purple haired brat.

-> Childe had always had a soft spot for young children, so finding you alone in the blood covered snow amongst a massacre touched that familial part of him...

-> They/them pronouns used - reader has no gender! Completely platonic - reader is a child! This is rather dark tone wise, but has fluff! Descriptions of a massacre and blood - no gore or details!

The snow around you was painted red from all the spilled blood - most of it wasn't yours, but it didn't make the situation better. Your poor exposed feet had gone completely numb from standing in the icy snow for such a long time. You had no idea how long you had stood there, but it felt like forever. Your feet weren't the only thing that had gone numb that night. Seeing something even close to this kind of a massacre would destroy most people, let alone someone your age.

All you could see saw the horror you witnessed with the scent of iron smelling blood filling your senses as the winter wind howled around you. You were too engrossed in the scene before you to notice the snow crunching loudly as someone was approaching you. Only after the looming shadow of their figure settled over you did you turn to slowly look at them. They were a tall man in a large white coat and a noticable red scarf that stood next to you observing the scene, he was so tall you had to crane your nect to be able to see his face.

His gaze lowered and you wete met with the sight of his blue eyes, they stared at you as lifelessly as yours did to him. His eyes scanned over your bloodied features until they landed on your eyes that stared back into his - he almost looked like he was searching for something in yours... Not a word was spoken by either of you as another man approached and said something to him, you paid no mind to them or their brief conversation. The tall man kneeled next to you and you turned your whole body to face him.

“You must be cold.” He stated in a friendly tone.

His voice was more energetic and warm than you thought, it almost made you feel comfortable in his presence. He took off the red scarf you had noticed from around his neck and wrapped it around yours, it was still warm. When he was done he even managed to crack a smile from the many times he had to wrap it around your neck. The scarf did little to shield you from the cold by now that you had become numb to it, but it was a nice gesture to and did provide some warmth.

“Are you all alone?” He turned towards the destroyd village as you simply nodded in reply.

After a moment he turned back to look back at you, “What do you say we get out of here, huh? Get you somewhere warm and get you something to eat?”

You oooked at him in silence for a moment before you managed to answer a quiet, “Okay...”

The man smiled a genuine smile before opening his arms for you. Hesitantly you crept closer until he was able to wrap you inside his large coat and carry you in his arms. You spared one more glance towards your once home as he walked away from the destruction. Some people went deeper inside the village after he picked you up, but you couldn't see what they were doing as the man pushed your head away from its direction and you didn't feel like fighting against him.

He arrived before a carriage and the door was opened for him to climb in. He sat you down across from him and took off his coat to wrap it around you like a blanket. Surely he was cold too? Why would he give you his jacket? As if he could read your mind he smiled.

“Don't worry about it, the ride won't be long.” He assured you.

You didn't respond as you turned to gaze out of the window opposite of your village. It was difficult to see anything in the dark, but it didn't matter as you fell asleep shortly after. All that happened took a heavy toll on your body and mind, the man you left with provided enough comfort for you to be able to fall asleep in his presence. It was likely stupid for anyone to do, but you were young and exhausted.

Either way you simply woke up after some time in an unfamiliar place. The room was large and barely lit up, it only held a large desk with a chair, a huge bookshelf and the couch you were currently laying on. The man was nowhere to be seen and you were alone in a strange place, you felt extremely uncomfortable. You began rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you headed to the almost wall covering window.

It was only beginning to light up outside, meaning you hadn't slept that long. The place you were was seemingly huge by the stone fenced courtyard and you were nowhere near ground floor from the looks of it. You had no idea what to do, but you wanted out - you wanted to go home... There was nothing left of it, but it was the only thing you knew. It was familiar and thus felt safe.

You made your way to the only door leading to this room and rattled the knob until the dood opened, thankfully it wasn't locked. Your head quickly peeked outside to see dark and emty halways on both sides of you. Your head kept turning from side to side as you tried deciding which route to take before finally moving to your right. You tried your best to be quiet and sneaky, but your unclothed feet kept making noise against the marble floor.

You kept walking aimlessly through the never ending maze of halls, just how large could one building be? You were beginning to feel exhausted and cold again, you still had yet to eat or drink and your body was beginning to react to it. You felt weaker and wearier with every step you took until you couldn't do it anymore and collapsed on the ground. Your vision was blurry and your ears rang, but you could hear the faint sound of someone approaching.

“Hm? Well, what do we have here?” They said.

You slowly managed to turn your head and see the person behind you. There stood a tall blonde woman with a cruel smirk and bored expression as she stared at you with her arms crossed. She was rather intimidating by her presence and aura... You didn't dare say anything in return.

“To which fool do you belong to then, hm?” She curtly asked.

You again remained silent and frozen in place, yet didn't break the eye contact with her for a second. She let out a long and drawn out sigh before beginning to approach you, the sound of her heels clicked against the floor. Every step she took rang in your ears as you began shaking from the anxiety - what was she going to do? Why was she coming closer? Please, stop!

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice echoed through the empty hall.

Relief washed over you as you saw the man with ginger hair approach in a jog, it was completely different from when the woman had slowly crept closer to you. With a big smile on his face he kneeled down before you to raise you into his arms. You held tightly onto his shirt and faced away from the woman.

“You shouldn't have run off like that! I was really worried about you, you know?” His tone was serious but it wasn't scolding or degrading.

“So this is one your rascal siblings then?” The woman asked.

“That's right.” He replied immediately.

“I should have known. Only you would be foolish enough to bring someone outside of the Fatui here.” She sharply said.

“Yeah, yeah my bad. Are you going to do anything about it or will you just blab on about it?” His tone became colder.

“Hm. Just get them out of here before I do.” She turned away to leave.

The man held you firmly but not enough to the point that it would hurt you. After a while of listening to the sound of Signora's heels he turned to walk back the way he came, to his office. He had been stupid to leave you alone and unguarded with the door unlocked, had he not found you he didn't know what the witch would have done with you. Still, thankfully it was her and not someone like Dottore...

You arrived back in his office in no time, it felt surprisingly comforting after your encounter. The man sat you back on the small couch you had slept on previously, his jacket was still on it the way you had left it. He pulled a chair from his desk to sit directly in front you with a beaming smile on his face. You simply sat put and stared at him.

“Alright, let's start with the basics. What's your name?” He asked in a friendly tone.

You looked away for a brief second, as if you had forgotten your own name before mumbling it to him. He smiled brighter and told you it was a nice name, he introducing himself as Ajax in return - but asked that you didn't call him that when in here. You nodded in agreement.

“So, what do you say we go get something to eat? I promise you that earlier and it must have been a while since you've eaten.” He stood up but suddenly stopped in place as he noticed your clothes and everything suddenly set in.

Your clothing was torn and clearly worn-out, the original colour was hard to make out from under all the dirt and blood. Blood... You weren't hurt were you? He had entirely forgotten to check such a factor, even if it was obvious to others. He had grown used to the sight of blood but seeing you covered in it hurt him deeply.

Yes - he barely knew you, but you reminded him of his siblings. Due to his close relationship with them he had always had a soft spot for them. Finding you all alone admist a burning poor excuse of a village in the midst of a massacre was terrible and pulled on his heartstrings. The way you stood in the freezing cold with that hopeless dead look...

Though you had gone through something incredibly terrible, something not many could ever understand - he didn't want to leave you oike that. Maybe, just maybe he could someday bring a smile on your face like he did to his siblings. You were still young and had your whole life ahead of you, while he was in no way a good person, perhaps he could positively influence you.

“Um, how about I let you get yourself cleaned before hand?” He rubbed the back of his head.

You nodded and got up to hold his outstretched hand. It was warm and comforting as he lead you through the long halls to a door. He opened the lock to reveal a small changing room and a door to the bathing room where you could clean yourself. He left you for a moment and returned with some clothes that were clearly too big for you, but would do for now.

You didn't waste time while bathing, you simply vleaned yourself the best you could before stepping out to dress yourself. Ajax was outside the door sitting on the floor when you stepped out. It was rather amusing to see you in the oversized clothing, your hands weren't visible due to your long sleeves.

“Wow, weren't you fast! Come on let's go eat!” He got up and held out his hand out like before.

He lead you in deeper and down several floors of stairs before entering a kitchen the size of the house you previously lived in! It was entirely empty of people and no lights were lit. Ajax lit some candles before rummaging through each cabinet and space for all sorts of food that unbeknownst to you - he had no business taking or touching. But that didn't matter, you were hungry now and he would deal with the consequences later.

Though his priority was feeding you, he didn't hold himself back from enjoying the food as well. He was going to be in so much trouble... But seeing you so contently munching down food made it all worth it. For a faint moment he could have sworn your lips had curled into a smile as you ate a particular piece of food. He would make mental note of it to learn it later on when he had time. After eating you looked tired again, but it wasn't surprising due to the amount you had eaten and all you had experienced today.

“Hey, little buddy! Mind if I pick you up and carry you?” You nodded in reply.

He did just that and raised you gently into his hold. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your tired head on his shoulder, it didn't take long for you to doze off again. He ran his palm along your back in comforting circles, it was something he did with his siblings as well when they were younger. He had missed it as even Teucer had began growing out of it.

Thinking back on his family they would surely take you in and love you as one of them, but he would not introduce you to them right away. You needed time to grow used to him as he had just met you, you were still strangers despite the circumstances and moments you shared earlier. He would need to talk to them about it before then in any case, he wouldn't always be around and didn't want to leave you with even more strangers.

For now he would simply help you heal and get to know you, you would need to trust him before he could let you meet his family, if you wanted that is... If you did then he would introduce you to them slowly and things would work themselves out from there. At least he hoped they would, but real life was never quite that simple or easy sadly.

Childe laid you on the couch for the third time today and pulled his jacket to cover your sleeping form. Asleep you looked like any other child that was just entering and learning about the world you lived in, but inside you were broken by the horrors it had thrown at you at such a young age. Children should remain children until it was time to grow up - and you were far from ready.

You were a prime example of why he worked so hard to protect his siblings dreams and perceptions of this world. You were why he did the Tsaritsa's bidding, why he believed in her vision of the new world they would create and why it was necessary. He may have not been able to protect you, but he could still give you a world worth living in.

A/N: This was absolutely not proofread, because I'm lazy so apologies! Likes and or reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you so much for reading <3

FAMILY (OF SORTS) — Platonic Fatui Harbingers & reader.

i. SUMMARY: The Fatui Harbingers have a soft spot for Arlecchino's child. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, headcanons, fluff, parent!arlecchino, house of the hearth!reader, all of the harbingers are reader's weird aunts and uncles, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.6k words. iv. A/N: the fatui are just a dysfunctional found family and i will die on this hill. shoutout to @romaritimeharbor for listening to my rambles about this idea 🫶🫶 also pierro and pulcinella aren't here because i could not think of anything to write for them :')

All of the harbingers knew about Arlecchino’s child; the one that appeared in Fatui Headquarters stuck to her side, eyes cast to the floor. They all saw the way that Arlecchino had held a soft grip on their shoulder, guiding them through the halls with the gentle touch of a parent from the gentle hands of a monster.

The Knave always swore she didn’t play favourites, but from an outside view it was clear that they held a special place separate from the rest. Anyone could see the way they appeared so much more frequently by her side. They were permitted to sit in on meetings, following her like a shadow. Some of the Harbingers guessed that she had picked them to be her successor; that their frequent shadowing was training them to take over once she was gone. Others joked about Arlecchino’s apparent soft side taking over. Whatever the reason, time went on, and the Fatui saw more and more of them.

All of them varied in their opinions of them—some indifferent, some fond—but the Harbingers all cared for them in their own ways.

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Columbina simply adores them. They’re just so small and cute, so tiny and fragile! Admittedly, her idea of ‘tiny’ is rather skewed—applying to anyone she deems weaker than her (notably, this label also gets given to Capitano and Tartaglia, despite their larger size and physical strength. The Damselette is truly an enigma.)

Whenever Arlecchino allows her to watch over them, she is delighted. She has a penchant for pet names, so ‘angel’, ‘my sweet’, and ‘lovely’ are all more commonly used than their name. Sometimes there’s a ‘baby’ or ‘bub’ if she’s feeling particularly affectionate, but no matter the name, it is always dripping with sweetness. She’ll sing to them too, to calm them down or get them to sleep. Her voice is gentle, laced with as much love as she would show her own child.

Some Fatui believe Columbina is a woman formed from hollow sweetness; that behind the lazy smile and soft voice, lies a callous and unfeeling heart, but her insistence on singing them to sleep comes from a place of genuine affection.

When they have to return home, she’ll kiss their cheeks and sweep them into a hug, making them promise to visit her soon.

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The fact that Arlecchino would tear out his throat with her bare hands if he dared to look at them the wrong way is the only thing stopping Dottore from roping [Name] into one of his experiments. Even then, he can’t help but investigate them a bit. Nothing extreme—please put the knife down, Knave—just some simple trials to see how they work. A quick strength assessment, a test of their reflexes, enough to judge the effectiveness of the House of the Hearth’s training.

The segments all had different opinions of them, varying from Prime’s general indifference to some of the younger segments fondness towards them. The latter were less likely to try to trick them into the lab—not that Arlecchino would allow them anywhere near it without strict supervision—and instead focused their efforts on convincing them to help mess with the rest of the Dottores. They proved to be an excellent partner in crime to thoroughly ruin the older segment’s day.

Despite his assertion that he won’t harm them, Dottore tends to be the one Arlecchino trusts least around her child. His unwillingness to get on her bad side doesn’t stop her from insisting Columbina or herself accompany them whenever they visit his lab.

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Tartaglia loves them. The days he gets to see his siblings are few and far between, so he’s always eager to play the older brother for them, and for any other House of the Heath kids that stop by. In fact, whenever any of the children visit, he makes sure to buy them plenty of sugary treats and candies before quickly sending them back to their Father.

(Arlecchino was not happy the first time this happened. It didn’t stop him from doing it every time, though.)

He was the first to convince them to call him Uncle, a feat that he bragged about to the rest of the Harbingers. This small incident would inadvertently lead to a petty competition to see who their favourite is, an event that would quickly spiral out of control with bribery and promises coming from all sides.

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Sandrone is very particular with who she allows in her workshop. When the rare guest was allowed inside, they had to follow three simple rules: do not touch anything, do not move unless I tell you to, and do not talk to me while I work. When [Name] first stumbled into the room, she was prepared to discourteously shoo them out the way she did whenever Tartaglia poked his head in to see what she was working on. But after some extensive begging, she relented and sat them down in a corner to watch her work. 

Even if she is far less fond of them as some of the other Harbingers, she still audibly squeaked the first time she was called Aunt Sandrone. This was covered up with a cough, but nothing could stop the warmth blooming in her chest. It was the first time a living creature had addressed her with such a familial title; some of her synthetic creations had a habit of calling her Mother, but this was a living, breathing person.

After they started calling her that, she quietly told them they were free to visit when she was working—provided they did not interfere with anything. 

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As much as he denies it, Scaramouche has a big soft spot for kids. He’ll swear up and down that he doesn’t care for them at all, but he treats them noticeably gentler than he treats any other member of the Fatui. Arlecchino once caught them huddled against him, using his wide-brimmed hat to shelter from the rain. She never let him forget that moment—the fearsome Balladeer, who notoriously never let anyone close enough to touch him, allowing her child to use him as an umbrella.

They remind him a little too much of the young boy he once considered his family. Whenever he spends time with them, there is something inside that both urges him to protect them in the way he couldn’t protect that child, and warns keep them at arm’s length before they betray him too. But his endearment towards them prevailed, and he begrudgingly allowed them a place in his heart.

Unlike Columbina’s affectionate pet names, the only nicknames Scaramouche gives them are ‘kid’ and ‘brat’, depending on his mood. On good days, they might even get called by their name, though it is a rarity. He cares for them, truly. In his own, strange way.

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Capitano is the best at giving advice out of all the harbingers. He is much more down to earth than Columbina and Dottore, and far less cynical than Scaramouche and Sandrone. He’ll let them ramble about their frustrations freely before offering gentle suggestions on what they should do to help. Even if they aren’t looking for a solution, he’s patient enough to hear out their thoughts, however jumbled and incoherent they may be.

He also likes teaching them skills he deems important for a young person to know. These include cooking—Tartaglia is not allowed to join them in these lessons after he almost burnt down the kitchen trying to ‘help’—as well as sewing and mending clothes.  

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Pantalone never would describe himself as parental. He never cared too much for kids; he hadn’t enough patience to deal with constantly crying babies or needy toddlers. Arlecchino’s child was thankfully far above that age, so they were less unbearable to deal with.

He was quite happy to spoil them with extravagant gifts and treats to win their favour, but the most effective way he does so is simply spending time with them. Trips to luxurious restaurants for lunch, allowing them to shadow him while he works. He also likes to give them advice—completely unasked for—about life, and relationships. Unlike Capitano however, his advice is of a much less helpful; he has a habit of advocating for blackmail for solving problems.

In exchange for a box of the most expensive pastries in Teyvat, he got them to call him their favourite uncle in front of Tartaglia. The miniscule dent in his funds was worth the look of betrayal on the younger Harbinger’s face.

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Signora easily took the longest to warm up to them. When she first met them, it was easy enough to label them as Arlecchino’s brat and move them from her mind. But they kept appearing, in and around the headquarters. At first they were always glued to the Knave’s side, but eventually Signora began to see them wandering alone through the halls. She took note of them—not out of any attachment to them, only out of self-preservation knowing that if Arlecchino found out her child landed themself into trouble while she was close by, it would be her funeral soon.

The sense of obligation faltered when she started to grow fond of them. They were irritatingly innocent, a rarity within the Fatui. Something about the spark in their eyes reminded her of when she was young—when she still had warmth in her heart and blood in her veins. For the first time in centuries, her frozen heart began to thaw with care towards another person, and begrudgingly, she began to accept that they were not as unpleasant as she once believed.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

Roll A Die, Roll A Poison - Evocation and Provocation

>Yan! Aventurine x Fem! Reader

>Word count: ~2.4k

>a/n: before anyone asks, no this isn't a series. I'm just writing a drabble from the same universe this is not an established series. very subtle yandere themes. just wholesome in general. the backstory of this in my mind is not so wholesome

Part 1

Intrusive thoughts typically pop in uninvited and leave just as so. You do not let them stay for long lest they marinate and tempt you to cook them to feast on the ‘delicious’ outcome. However… however, this one has been festering in your mind ever since it made itself known. It has started rotting and mould is certainly growing on it, yet you are still allowing it to decay in your mind, waiting for the opportunity to let it seduce you into throwing it onto the grill.

You shamelessly pin the blame on Aventurine. After all, he was the one who said he’d like to experiment hairstyles on your hair, even going as far as to open video tutorials and search appropriate hairstyles for your hair texture. Unfortunately for him, the moment the blond took off his gloves, you had grabbed your hair protectively and uttered something about not trusting anyone with your hair.

Conveniently ignoring the fact that you were invested in which video tutorial he should follow, you declined his offer with a plethora of silly excuses (seriously, why did you say you’re afraid he might end up tangling it horribly? he treats his hair like his first born child he is obviously not so stupid as to do so). Having been let off the hook graciously by your captor unwilling living partner, you had carried on your merry day completely oblivious to the thoughts silently crawling from the dark in your mind.

Now you are here. Side eyeing him as he sheds off his fur lined coat followed by his hat. He turns around, looking at you as he discards his rose coloured sunglasses. The former two are placed onto a chair while the latter is placed on top of them. Irises more vibrant than those glasses remain fixed on you, and you grimace at the way the corners of his eyes crinkle from his smile.

That never happens outside these four walls. He never smiles like that outside.

Though you are lying on the bed with a book lying open over your chest, he makes no move to turn the situation into something intimate. Perhaps all his previous failed attempts have finally taught him something. Or maybe he’s just enjoying the view of you on his bed. He’s a simple minded creature after all.

Aventurine chuckles when you continue giving him a weird look. “You look relaxed.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Ouch.” He turns to the dressing table. First he takes off his wristwatch then his rings. The other accessories follow, and you strike when he least expects it.

“Aventurine,” you call, “I need something.”

He turns to face you instantly instead of looking at your reflection in the mirror like he usually does. At first he searches your face for any hints of what your request could be, yet his gaze drops to the cover of the open book lying on your chest. You close it and place it beside you face down promptly, cheeks burning because it’s one of those smutty romance books that he absolutely does not need to get access to.

Aventurine raises a brow at your antics, but humours you nonetheless. “This is rare. What would a beautiful woman like you need? I hope I’m not lacking in taking care of you.”

“I do agree that your knowledge is lacking in regards to women, but my request is… well, not something typical of me.”

He grows more curious, moving to the foot of the bed as he undoes his thigh garter before moving onto his belt. The two are placed onto the bed before he urges you to continue.

A nervous gulp precedes you voicing your request. The edges of your lips are stopped from scowling at yourself. “I need… I wish to have some time with your hair. There’s something I wish to try out.”

The reaction you receive is him unbelievingly blinking at you. His hands remain over the buttons over his waistcoat, frozen with twitching fingers. “My hair…?”

You sit up, nodding. He recovers quickly, clearing his throat. “My, that’s forward of you. What do you wish to do with it? You aren’t planning to turn me bald, are you?”

“As hilarious as that would be, no.”

“Then?” The waistcoat is unbuttoned, and he is currently shrugging it off. “If I am going to give you some time alone with my hair, it’s only fair I know your intentions.”

You swallow your pride, cursing yourself for tossing such rotten food onto a skillet. “I… I just want to braid it.”

Aventurine looks at you.

You look at him.

Aventurine continues looking at you.

You look at his waistcoat halfway down his arms.

Aventurine blinks at you.

You do not blink back.

“Is that it…?”

You nod at his question, and he clearly looks like he’s holding in a laugh. “My my. You’re being bashful as though you’re asking me to marry you,” he grins.

“This is worse than marrying you.”

“I’m glad to hear you changed your mind on nothing being worse than being mine forever.”

A glare is directed his way. His ability to remember your words is downright disturbing. Nevertheless, he places his waistcoat on the bed before crossing his arms. That damned smile is back on Aventurine’s face. The smile he has when he’s brewing something in his mind. Something that you would definitely not want to ingest.

“On one condition,” he raises a finger. “I want something in return.”

You raise a curious brow. “What would that be?”

 A response is not given right away. Instead he peels off his gloves, placing them next to the waistcoat on the bed. Then, he tilts his head at you before voicing his price. “I want a kiss. On the lips more specifically.”

To say you choked on your words would be an understatement.

He taps his lips with his bare hand, and you make a horrible cringing face. “With tongue would be preferable.”

You shake your head profusely at his demand. What does he take you for? “Absolutely not. Anywhere but your lips is fine. Don't make me regret trusting you enough to ask you for something.”

“Aw.” Aventurine visibly deflates, eyes falling to his discarded waistcoat on the bed. “We've kissed before. I didn't think… wait. You said anywhere but my lips.”

A different meaning of your words comes to mind, and you slap your palm over your mouth in horror. If that devious smile on his face is anything to go by, he's having ideas. “No. Don't get ideas. I do not mean what you think I mean.”

“Relax. So no kiss?”

“No.”

“Not even if I bat my eyelashes all pretty?”

“No.”

He sighs, loud and dramatic on purpose to rile you up. “I still remember the last time we kissed. It felt like you were eating my insides.”

“You had forced it upon me by kissing me first,” you accuse. “I know your games now.”

A finger points in your direction, accusing yet remindful. “I admit I kissed you first, but you kissed me back harder. You were the one who started using your tongue.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing! Don't compare that to now.”

Aventurine sighs wistfully, as though he’s remembering a fond memory. To him it is, but to you it is not. “Don’t be shy,” he coos. “I remember. We were alone, and you were absolutely into it.”

A phantom sensation of his hands all over you returns, the image of his eyes seemingly more vibrant before he closes them and kisses you again accompanying it. It heats your cheeks and renders you unable to hold eye contact with him. Regardless, you clear your throat and try to negotiate again.

After what seemed like forever, he finally settles with a kiss to the cheek as his payment (he declined your insistence to kiss his hand instead). Alas, Aventurine had another demand. To receive his payment after you’re done with his hair. Which brings you here.

He sits cross legged on the bed while you remain kneeled on the mattress behind him. It’s hard to braid his hair. The longer parts are uneven since it’s longer on his right, so you thought you would attempt a messy bun with whatever braid you could make. Unfortunately, that did not work out. The layers poked out and it was mostly just hair poking out and less braid.

A sigh and you try again. “You good back there?” Aventurine’s question is shut down with a harsh ‘shush’ and you return to your battle. Out of pure frustration, you grab the brush and brush back all his hair despite the tangles and the way his head gets pulled back with it.

“Hey, be gentle!”

You simply tut. “This is how mothers make their daughter’s hair in the morning before school. This is a core childhood experience recreation. Savour it while it lasts.”

The pout is evident in his voice. “You’re simply making excuses for being rough.”

All of his hair is grabbed into a half-assed ponytail. Bangs are still poking out and a lot of layers from the side are too short to even be grabbed into it. Seriously, how intricate is his hairstyle? How does the barber even maintain this?

You let go of all of it. Fingers shake the hair to let it settle according to his natural hair pattern, and when you’re satisfied, you pick up a small section from near his bangs. You don’t grab all his bangs, only incorporating some of them and leaving the rest to frame his face.

An idea pops into your head, a good one this time thankfully, and you start creating a dutch braid from there. When you reach the nape of his neck, you realise your mistake and undo the braid just an inch. Then, you try to incorporate the longer strands of his hair into it, yet when it simply pokes out instead of being tamed, you settle with ending the braid at his nape with a low ponytail.

The braid is loosened a little for volume, but you retract your hand when a few strands start poking out. He’s been surprisingly quiet, you note. However, one peek at his face and you see that his eyes are closed.

They instantly open, already side-eyeing you.

“What the hell!”

He chuckles. “What?”

“That’s creepy! Don’t do that again,” you grimace. Aventurine doesn’t seem to mind. He even seems amused.

“So,” he drawls, “may I see the finished product?”

You take a good look at your work. Honestly, his hair is so soft and pretty you’d ask if he could grow it out a bit just so you could braid it more freely. You wouldn’t of course, but it doesn’t hurt to think about it.

You dismiss him, “You’re free to look in a mirror.” As expected, he gets up right away, going to the dressing table and looking at himself with widened eyes. He inspects your work, fingertips gently running over the braid trailing from near his hairline to his nape. The hair in a ponytail is brought to drape over his right shoulder, and he smiles, satisfied.

More of his face is visible with the wispy bangs, but you have to admit. He looks gorgeous. It’s almost unfair that he’s pretty.

“Now then…” Aventurine turns to you, a smile on face as he continues. “My payment for allowing you to have your way with my precious hair.”

On the other hand, you sigh. “I make you pretty and work hard, yet I still get punished. Where’s the worker’s right’s association now?”

“Gone. Decimated. My kiss, dear. Now.”

Your curiosity has led you to this. As you slowly get off the bed and move closer to him, he watches you with attentive eyes. It is when you stand in front of him that he smiles, body language obviously impatient.

Out of simple desire to be generous, you first cup his face then dive in to kiss his left cheekbone. When you pull away after the quick peck, you’re surprised to see his cheeks slowly turning red.

You blink at him in disbelief. “Are you… are you blushing?”

Unfortunately, he recovers quickly as always, deflecting it to you despite his flustered face. “The woman I love just kissed me. Of course I’m going to blush.”

Now you are at the receiving end of embarrassment. It’s unfair. It’s so unfair how he’s still able to stir up feelings within you. It’s unfair how you still care about him. It’s unfair how you can’t let him leave the house without having a proper meal, and it’s unfair that you still send him the same “stay hydrated” sticker on his phone everyday when he’s not around you.

It’s unfair because you want to hate him so bad for what he has done, but you can never forget the questions he used to ask you whenever you both spent time together. They were hushed and quickly brushed off, deemed insignificant after you gave your answer and dubbed “just messing around”. You can never forget them because you know he meant them.

He meant every single one. He just didn’t want you to peel away the layers of his person.

“Woohoo. Aventurine to [Name]? Is there still a signal?”

You snap back, gaze rising from your feet to his face. “Wow, I really lost you there,” he says. “Come on. The kiss wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re right,” you breathe out. After a few seconds of thinking, you excuse yourself. However, as soon as you are out the door, Aventurine’s concern turns into curiosity as he promptly grabs the book you were reading earlier off the bed. A picture of its cover is snapped, and it is placed onto the nightstand.

Unbeknownst to you, Aventurine downloaded a pdf and started reading. Not without taking a picture of your master hairstyling skills of course. While you were regaining your bearings in a different room, he had been searching up summaries and key events of the book.

Perhaps you might be in for a different game next time.