Lost Love (2)

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

Yandere Diasomnia Headcanons

TW/CW: Dark content up ahead!! Yandere headcanons means yandere content y’all! Mentions of abuse and violent acts either towards the reader or the character!! Mental instability, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, obsession, emotional whiplash, etc. (Don’t think I’m missing anything but if I am, please do let me know!)  This is your TW please proceed with caution!!

ALSO FYI!! A minor spoiler warning, it’s during the last paragraph of Lilias Headcanons! It’s slightly mentioned in book 6 but emphasized in book 7!

DISCLAIMER: These are my interpretations of his/her/their persona and none of these is 100% accurate. I don’t condone any of these actions in real life and all of this is purely fictional and should be taken as such! Underage characters will ONLY  be given SFW headcanons, please respect this decision!

As always, banner made by the lovely bestie @herestrish​ thank you for making all of these, you’re literally the best I love you so much! 

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INSULT TO INJURY — Platonic Arlecchino & reader

i. SUMMARY: What is Arlecchino to do, when her child comes home injured? ii. CWS & NOTES: Injuries, mild descriptions of blood, mentions of violence, nothing particularly graphic. PLATONIC arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. hurt/comfort. they/them pronouns used. 0.9k words. iii. A/N: HI THIS WAS FINISHED IN MY DRAFTS AND I DID NOT NOTICE... this was a suggestion from @romaritimeharbor!!

Arlecchino was by no means a traditional parent, but she did share common qualities with those who were. She kissed her children’s hair when they were sick, wiping the sweat off their forehead and tucking their sheets extra tight. When they sought comfort, she would hold them close to her chest, even if her affection was rare and only offered away from all other eyes. They appeared in her thoughts constantly, even in the most mundane situations; occasionally she would find herself wondering if Lynette would enjoy a particular brand of tea, or if Freminet’s diving skills had improved in the past months.

Those outside of the House of the Hearth could never imagine a soft side to a cutthroat woman like Arlecchino, not after witnessing her ruthless ways. All they saw was the terrifying Harbinger that cut through hoards with her scythe, taking down each and every one who stands in the way of the Fatui. They would be mistaken to dismiss her as soft-hearted, but even more so to proclaim her heartless. It is simply that her heart beats for the Hearth, and nothing more. 

When she settled into the role of Father, she vowed that even if the Fatui wouldn’t treat her children with love, she would. However strict she appeared, her love for the House of the Hearth was poured through every drop of blood shed in the name of the security of the Fatui. The Fatui were the foundation holding up the orphanage, and so long as it remained strong, so would their home. 

It was one of her most notable traits, and one that many parents held; she would do anything to protect her children. 

So when [Name] turned up at her office, bruises peeking out between the rips in their shirt and bright splatters of blood dotting their arms, she didn’t scold them for walking in without knocking. She stood, moving mechanically over to where they lingered in the doorway. She swept her gaze down their body, taking note of each and every injury. And as they looked up at her, eyes glazed over with unshed tears, she brushed her hand across their face to rid the hair sticking to the blood across their forehead and hissed, “Who did this to you?”

“I–” Whatever rasping words were almost spoken broke off in a fit of coughing. A low cry of pain spilled out, and their hand clutched their side. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

Arlecchino looked out through the hallway, spotting a child half-hidden behind the corner, unsubtly trying to spy on the situation. They squeaked, as she caught their eye and barked out an order. “You! Go to the medical wing and bring back a first aid kit, and several ice-packs. Now.”

They scurried off, the sound of tiny footsteps growing quieter every second. Once they were inaudible, she looked back at her other child, whose eyes were drifting shut slowly. A quick touch on their shoulder sent them flinching backwards, eyes flying open. 

“What happened?” She asked, ignoring the way they shrunk into themself at the question.

“I failed. I was ambushed, and they–” They shuddered, once again gripping their side. Arlecchino took note of the way they winced each time they moved too sharply; bruised ribs, if not broken. “I’m sorry, I just came to report on what happened.”

“You’re injured, [Name].” Arlecchino stressed.

“I know,” They said quietly. They didn’t even seem to have enough energy to fight the tears that have begun dripping down their cheeks. “It won’t happen again. I’ll be better.”

I don’t want you to be better, her mind screamed. I want you to be okay. Arlecchino bit her tongue hard to stop the words from pouring out. It would be unbecoming of the Director to show such earnestness in front of one of her children, especially one who had clearly suffered a failure. She may love them, as she does all of her orphans, but she was raised in the Fatui as well. She knew the cost of failure all too well.

“You will be.” Arlecchino stood back, letting them lean against the door frame again to stop themself falling over. “I’m sure you understand that there will be consequences to this.”

“I do.” 

“Excellent. You will be dismissed from all missions for the next six weeks.” Six weeks, that was just long enough for injured ribs to heal, if she recalled correctly. “You will be required to remain in the House for that time, and any outings must be approved by me before you leave.”

They stared at her, eyes wide.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, Father.” They said quickly.

She didn’t ask any more of the person who had left them in such a state, but they did cross her mind as she wrapped bandages around their arms. She could almost see them now, celebrating their victory over the Fatui. How proud they must be, to have sent one of the Knave’s own agents fleeing. 

A barely noticeable grimace tore her attention away, and she forced her hands to loosen the bandages around their arm. In her quiet fury, she had begun to wrap them tighter than a tourniquet, much to their discomfort. 

For that moment, she dismissed the assailant to the back of her mind, and turned all of her attention to her child.

They would come later, and then, they would learn the true meaning of fear. 

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

Coming Home [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: Coming Home [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You never forgot Kunikuzushi. Nor did you tell anyone about him. He was a secret, and he entrusted you to keep him to yourself. 

Prompt: Scaramouche + “And what you own always comes home to you.” 

Word Count: 4134

Notes: yandere, non-graphic mentions of sex, abuse mentions 

He came into your life like debris blown harshly in an angry storm. Grey skies followed by unsettling stillness, everything out of place. He was something torn up at the roots, forced to go wherever the breeze took him, through winding paths, brushing against trees and debris and landing somewhere worse for wear but eager to reach upwards.

He simply showed up at your doorstep, an eyesore against the ordinary backdrop that was your life, and that was that.

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platonic au bc i can’t help myself. thinking about how abyss lumine could’ve met scara before his betrayals. how scara comes to view her as a sister, yet lumine only cares about finding aether. how scara feels hurt, though he doesn’t know why, after he finds out she has a brother (her only kin, she said, and he has never wanted to grab her shoulders and yell, what about me?) the betrayal he feels after she leaves to further explore teyvat. thinking abt scara hating aether, the golden boy, taking everything he’s ever wanted as easy as breathing — his mother’s recognition, the admiration of others, and having lumine’s affection as her brother.

and now he’s wanderer, helping aether in his search for his (their) sister. imagine them finally catching up, scara airing out his hurts to her and how betrayed he felt when she left five hundred years ago, only for lumine to look at him and ask who he is.

Hear me out, plat yan Scaramouche with a darling who got hurt by others before, therefore she only trusts him. Scaramouche was happy since he didn't have to do the dirty work of getting darling to rely on him, but the happiness was short-lived until he found out that his darling caught Pantalone's attention. Plat yan Scara being protective and possessive, and a really jealous Pantalone since darling clings to Scaramouche for comfort. ⭐

Omg it would be absolute chaos 😭😭

I can see Scara and darling just going out to spend the day together and Pantalone showing up out of the blue and trying to butt in. And then he insists on buying literally everything to try and show off to darling and Scara simply not having it 😭

They would walk in a line with Scara in the middle as a physical barrier between Pantalone and darling and anytime Pantalone speaks, Scara is interrupting him or answering for darling. And the whole conversation between those two would be so passive aggressive, fake smiles and all. They don’t wanna upset or make darling uncomfortable by starting a fight in the middle of the street, but that’s not gonna stop them from throwing thinly veiled insults at each other at every opportunity

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Was listening some horror stories while I finished some projects then got inspired by it and wrote this. Hope u guys like it <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic yandere content, kidnapping, murder. Probably typos too.

"Nuh-uh, dad!" You looked at the book Lilia carried with him. He had read this book for you a thousand times and a pout formed on your lips, already thinking how you would have to bear this torture again.

There was nothing wrong with the stories, per say. But they get a little old and boring when you had heard them this many times. And Lilia was quite forgetful so asking him to buy other books wasn't always a successful endeavor. Though when you asked him to create a story he told you he wans't creative enough either. You aren't having any of that. You were tired of hearing about snow white, rapunzel, ugly duckling and all the classics. You wanted something new and today you would have it.

"Tell me another story, please!" You asked, making your best puppy eyes at him. Those eyes worked on Silver and Sebek, so you wanted to try on him as well. His reaction was different from the one you were expecting though, Lilia smiled and patted your head.

You loved having him read to you - it was your favorite activity to bond with your father, where you solved mysteries with him and laughed at silly pickup lines, but Lilia was still fond of the classics. There was though another book, called The General Tales. The author was unknown and the cover was painted a dark red, it was strange. And you hadn't the chance to read it because your father was very conscious about it, hiding when you so much as glanced in its direction.

You could only suppose it was a horror book. But you were already quite grown up. You were almost 13 years old! You could sit through any story he read without having nightmares! He didn't seem to agree.

"What am I going to do with you, little batty?" Lilia mused to himself when you showed the book. There was an excited glee in his eyes whenever he looked at it, as if it contained his favorite memories; little did you know what was written on those pages and how much blood they had seen. How much blood Lilia used to write those same pages.

He smiled finally. Dangerously, like he did when you pranked him and he was plotting his revenge.

You make space in your bed for him to sit beside you and he opened those secret pages you had always wondered about. They were yellowed by the time and some were dog eared, written in a beautiful yet hushed cursive. You were fascinated.

Lilia waited till you made yourself comfortable, laying your head against his chest and body nestled into his side, so he turned some pages, humming to himself. You could only think what kind of story would he read to you. You could only hope it was scary. It wans't night time yet and even if you got scared then surely at night, when he put you to bed, you would have already forgotten all the gorey details. Right...?

"There was a couple who lived happily at the woods," Lilia's deep voice started its tale and you closed your eyes to fully immerse yourself in your imaginnation as you listened to him. "but then a plague started to poison the soil and their crops were destroyed. The walk to the nearest village used to take a whole day to go and another to come back. The husband tried to hunt animals to feed his lover and their one year old child but he failed each and every time. Without other options he started traveling to this village."

"Wait, what about the plague?" You asked fulled with curiosity. Then you through to yourself why they didn't tried to make it go away somehow.

Either they tried and didn't worked. Or they didn't even thought about it. Nonetheless, you brushed it off as they don't having this knowledgment. But this bugged you for a second. Humans and faes knew about plagues and how to get rid of them, they been doing this since they were brought to existence.

Your question made Lilia smile cheerfully, you observed. He must be proud of you for asking this, as he had homeschooled you and used to brag about how smart you was to anyone who wanted to listen - he'd brag even if they didn't want to hear. "Ah, you see, they were bad people. The soil knew this and rejected them, my dear."

Well... Growing in Briar Valley you knew this was probable to happen. Fae were internally linked to their florests and woods, and rivers and oceans, and everything nature could touch. That was also why Lilia raised both you and your older brother, Silver, in the woods. He used to take both of you to fish, and swim and watch the dawn all the time. Though time changed and life got busier, maybe you ask him to take you fishing again someday. Or to go camping somewhere.

"Makes sense, what happened to them then?"

"The man bought everything he needed, every last golden coin spent. But he had food for months to come, he was already imagining what his wife would cook on the way back when an incident happened."

Lilia turned the page and you could see a little drawing of a man horse riding into the horizon. Then he started reading again after taking in your expressions.

"A stag came running at him, the horse didn't react at time and both animals collided. Wounded, the animal couldn't walk and neither could the man who had fallen and sprained his ankle. Snow was falling, surrounding him like a veil, all the food he brought with their remaining gains lost there. He thought to himself 'I'm going to die certainly', rejected he was once, rejected he was at that moment. Lost and in pain, feeling miserable, he tried to stand but failed. Every attempt more painful than the other. A river was falling from his eyes when he finally gave up."

Your heart ached at this. But you hoped for the better. Freezing and being left hungry during winter sounded like hell. Lilia pinched your cheek when he noticed you frowning. He laughed at the face you make at him, annoyed at your father's antics.

Lilia smiled. "Nope. Nope, instead he had heard a voice from the woods, a hooded figure was suddenly standing in front of him. He could only see the figure's blood red eyes."

"Oh no, did he die?"

You looked at your father. "Your eyes are red!"

Lilia nodded, his leg bouncing with how excited he was from reading this story. "Do you think the hooded figure was me?"

"Well, it was?" You replied with another ask. Your father didn't respond.

Instead he continued reading. "If I save you, what can you get me in return? The hooded figure asked, crouching to be on the man height. Their touch was tender as they wiped his tears and looked at him, but there was something in them that make him tremble more than snow could. There was something truly evil behind those eyes, something terrible behind that smile. The man didn't answer nor said anything for various minutes. Though for him, hours seemed to have passed. Maybe even years as he looked at those eyes."

"Nah, I didn't think it was you," You thought out loud. "Your eyes are very beautiful and gentle."

Returning your little compliment, Lilia squeezed you in a side hug while laughing. "Oh, thank you sugar. Your eyes are beautiful too."

"But they aren't red as yours." You pouted.

"You wanted them to be?" You nodded. Nor you or Silver have his red eyes. But you wish you had. His eyes were unique, were cute but also intimidating. So intimidating when he wanted them to be that you were imagining that the hooded figure had those same eyes.

You both stayed in that hug before you remind him to read again. There were fewer pages to go now. And again there was a drawing, this time you could see the man with that figure chatting while snow pilled beside them, as if the cold didn't bothered them. Then on another page he stood up and a carriage had appeared, he held the wet food in his arms, saving whatever it was possible to save. He would go back home to his family.

But at what price? It wans't written. The author had keeped too vague.

"When he arrived home, with a new horse and a carriage, which the hooded figure told him to sell for its quality was impressive and he would gain even more gold than he had spended, he was his child running at him, happy that their, uh, father had finally returned. The entire time though, the man could still feel the figure's eyes on him, could see those eyes in his mind. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, held his child and whirled around with them to they laughed. He watched them disappear back inside when they got too cold. And then he explained what had happened to his wife, she deserved to know."

He explained this incident with the stag, about the hooded figure and the deal he made with it. And very lowly he whispered how he wouldn't follow his part of the deal - and lying to a fae is something one must never do. Something he shouldn't have done. But he did. And that's the soil reject them even more.

Beneath the earth it was possible to feel the tremors or the wind that pushed everything out of its way. Lilia read how the man dealed with each and every tribulation, how he passed the trials and went his way around the deal, doind the bare minimum to ensure only his and his family safety. He only forgotten that the figure could see him.

"Then one night the hooded figure came to pay him a visit. It knocked on the door and it smiled when it saw the wife holding her child, looking at it with clear fear in her eyes. Like her husband, the wife was trembling in its presence. She let it enter, if anything because she couldn't send him away, she didn't know with what she was dealing, she couldn't act wrong and jeopardize her child safety. Instead she played the role of a welcoming hostess."

Lilia paused a second to breathe then he smiled as if he too was imagining what happened next. Pressed against him you were still. Were it going to kill everyone?

"Please, you may sit here. Do you want to eat something or perhaps are you thirsty? She asked. The air around them was tense. Though her child was poking the stranger without fear, filled with innocent curiosity. The figure picked the child and looked at their eyes. A carnivorous smiled streched on it's face. 'This will be not necessary' the figure said.'"

Another dramatic pause. It was so silent you could hear the birds flying from a considerate distance. It was so silent that you could focus on the blood flowing on your veins. You were anxious to know what happened next. And your father seemed to take fun on this, delaying his narrative to look at the drawing of the figure and the child. This one was colored and you noticed that the child looked just like you. Same hairstyle and same color eye, even same skin color.

You didn't know how to feel about it. You was thinking about what the figure would do to that child. Coming from a horror book you had only one guess. Lilia though didn't share your apprehension as he started narrating again.

"'Call your husband and let's eat. Together. No lies this time or this cutie will pay the price.' The figure warned her. But it know what was fated to happen. The couple were liars and no good persons. Of course they were going to lie. When everyone was seated to eat, the wife served first her guest then her husband then her child and finally herself; though the figure was still holding the child. The wife looked like she wanted to ask something but held her tongue."

Lilia licked his fingers and turned the page. Your heart breaked at the drawing. It seemed painful and explicit but you keeped yourself from looking away, you asked for him to read and you wanted to hear and see everything.

"'Open wide, little one.' The figure told the child, holding Its own spoon of soup to feed the baby. The mother seemed alarmed by it as if she had just done something stupid. And she did, poisoned the figure's spoon and plate, and food too. She held its hand and looked at it with pleading eyes. She fell to her knees, afraid for her child's life and security, stuttering and mumbling. 'please, don't.' she asked it. And a laughed escaped the hooded figure's lips, so sweet, so dangerous, he looked at the child who made grabby hands at the food. 'I said no lies yet you lied to me, tried to deceit me when I've been nothing if good for the both of you. And what did I asked in return? Say it, word by word, to her, mighty husband.' The wife looked at her husband."

"But it was so vague... Dad, what did it said?" At this your father patted your hair, twirling his fingers in your hair to distract you. He almost never replied to you in these moments, wanting you to draw your own conclusions. Still you wished he answered you on this matter. You were too curious and inquisitive.

"'I want you to restore the crops with this insecticide I'm giving you, I want you to make house for the birds and for you to clean the rivers when they thaw. And... And I want your first-born, f-for them to take your place, a-a life for a lif...' The husband answered, without finding his wife's eyes. Though he didn't looked at her, he knew how the color vanished from her face and how she was stunned into silence. He had never mentioned the part where the figure wanted their child, had he done that she would killed him herself. Her pregnancy was problematic and painful but she was so happy that her child was here now, she was delighted to her their little laugh and see them starting to walk and talk. And he stole all this from her."

You gripped your father's arm, you aren't expecting this betrayal. You expected the hooded figure to be the killer who would slaughter everyone and then dance upon their corpses. But there was something intimately sad knowing that someone so close as a father to his own child, could be a liar. You felt a bad taste on your tongue. Though part of you was excited to see where things were going now. Would be possible for this story to have a happily after all? Part of you didn't know but you hoped so.

"'You lied to me? About this?' The poor wife was inconsolable, struggling even to stand still as her whole face burned with ire. She knew nothing could be done. Maybe it was her own fear, maybe it was the figure's presence who seemed to feed into her negative feelings, the next second she threw herself on top of her husband punching and screaming at him. Her chair had fallen to the ground with her plate, food flying everywhere. The hooded figure sighed but tucked the child's face in his neck for them to not see this. The couple flighted like two angry kittens, disjointed, clumsy, without really knowing where to hit to hurt more. It was pitiful to watch. It hummed while the scene unfolded before its eyes. They fought and screamed but the figure still soothed the scared child who gripped its clothes hard. It prevent them from turning around, holding them tightly against it. 'Just a second, little one.' it told them."

A knife fell from the table when the husband managed to kick his wife off him. She hitted her back at the wooded table's leg but took the knife and looked at him with bloodthirsty eyes. She tried to stab him but he dodge and evaded every attack, he laughed at it. And she was feeling angry, so angry she'd die if she could kill him and then the entity who watched them in silence. "I hate you. You ruined everything. You couldn't even do a thing right!"

Her words were words of a frightened woman and, above all, a mom who knew she had lost her child. The precious child who bringed so much life and happiness into her life. You felt sad at this. They were both bad. The husband for making the deal and then not following it, and the wife for trying to poison the hooded figure without trying to ask what it wanted. You wonder if things would have ended differently if they didn't lie.

"The husband could only smile and roll his eyes at this. Nothing he could say was going to be enough, nothing he could say was going to comfort her or save them from their demise. The fight ended when he twisted her own arm and stabbed her with the knife, twisting. She fell on the ground painfully, blood painting the carpet. The last thing she saw was her child sleeping on that creature's arms."

You sniffled, trying to stifle your cry so not get attention of your father. But he was perceptive, always was. He could know what you were doing even if he wasn't in the same room you were. It was a dad instinct kinda of thing, you thought once.

Lilia patted your head, letting you feel what you were feeling without commenting on the small tears that rolled down your chest or tease you. He had told you and Silver multiple times to not be ashamed to cry or feel freely, to not repress your emotions. And you weren't ashamed by it. But you did thought you were overreacting a little. It was just a story after all!

"The now armed man swinged at the hooded figure, tears falling from his eyes the same way they have fallen weeks before. This time though he had an ever more serious reason to cry, he had killed his wife. He lost the one he loved it and it was all that hooded figure fault. Or so he said to himself, still lying. Fighting though was futile, his effort was futile, he was no match for the figure, so agile and fast, even if it was holding a sleepy baby on its arms, it still could fight with ease as if battle and fight were it's old friends. It killed the man easily, with a swing of it's hands and a little magic, the man joined his wife in the afterlife where she would want him down eternally."

You jumped a little when he closed the book, looking at him in disbelief. The tears had dried on your eyes but they were still a little red from crying. "That's how it ends?"

Lilia nodded then added. "Though there's still a line. It goes like: the entity looked at the child affectionately, it had what it wanted, it had the child. The hooded figure finally lowered the hood from its face, revealing its young and yet deceitful appearance. It was a he and he looked at the child gently. 'I'm going to call you Yuu. Fufufu, how does that sound, Yuu?'"

You whined in surprise. It was your name! You liked to think that your name was unique and no one else had it, just so you could feel a little special, but at that moment you didn't know how you felt. There were so many plot twists in that story, your mind seemed to run a marathon by how hard you were thinking about everything. Only thing you could muster was. "They were dumbing, lying to a fae."

Though you wonder... Why there was a drawing of a child so similar to you and that also has your name? You searched for you father's eyes and found him him staring at you. But he wasn't staring how he used to stare, it was mischievous, evil. Dangerous. You found out that you couldn't move, paralyzed in fear while his eyes searched for something inside your soul. Whatever it was he seemed happy, his gaze softening as the minutes passed, his headpats returning slowly.

"How does tea sounds, little one?" He asked. It sounded like death coming from him, Lilia managed to even burn the water. You mumbled something, too busy thinking about the story to care that you were about to be poisoned by Lilia's tea. There was many puzzle pieces missing for you to complete the entire frame.

Maybe someday, Lilia thought with a smug smile.

wrapped around the finger of a kid? losers (/j)

warnings: yandere, NOT romantic

character(s): vil s., rook h.

a small child brought onto campus, that’s what you were. small, weak, helpless, without magic to even protect yourself with; considering the mirror sent you, many thought of it as an offense. yet you were precious, and you could plan clever little tricks, charm other students — and one day, in the future, you will realize that your charm perhaps did more bad than good.

you were oblivious, and held no clue about the dangers ahead of you…

or the dangerous people to avoid, really.

vil:

at first, he scoffed at having to host you in pomefiore, (first impressions weren’t great, you had tracked in a lot of dirt, and was a little roughed up as well) but he had warmed up to you.

oh, yes, he warmed up alright.. you enjoyed the company of the other students, but then ‘big brother vil’ always sweeps you away. you’d question why, but he’d always distract you.

“little potato, come here for a moment”, “let me fix your hair”, and “no need to talk to them” were some of the most common things you’d hear from the blonde, as he waited for your arrival everyday.

at one point, his bedroom permanently became yours as well, and when he had to go, you could play by yourself. alone, that is. he’s so attached, why would he ever let you go? just stay in his room, it has everything you need, so don’t question why the door’s locked.

he’ll keep you forever, because you’re just so adorable. he’ll spoil you, give you the world, end the world for you. and you… won’t disobey him, will you?

💗

“come on, now,” a pomefiore student said, words like sugary syrup. he said your name, handing you a little candy. “i’m not sure why you’re kept away from all of us, but i wanna play with you too!”

you finally were brought to a party, and you stuck to vil’s side like glue. he was all you’ve known now, so it should have been expected.

however, he had left to get something (clearly agitated on having to leave you, his sweet little potato) and you had wandered off, giving into childish curiosity.

when you got lost in the crowd of people, you started to cry, realizing you couldn’t see vil anywhere — realizing you now had no one to help you… that was when a student encountered you.

“p.. play?” you asked, gingerly holding onto the candy.

he nodded, smiling. “yep! i have a little sibling at home, just like you, so i th…”

as the stranger held his hand out, you sniffled, before feeling a strange prick at the back of your neck. it hurt for only a second, before you blacked out, ears ringing the entire time.

💗

you woke up on a plush, and familiar mattress, a satin pillow beneath your head. groggily blinking, your head felt so.. fuzzy, and off. even your body ached all over.

a large hand rested on your forehead, perhaps to check your temperature.

“v.. vil..?” your eyes closed, unused to the light. where was vil? was he here?

“yes, little potato?” hearing his voice brought you comfort, as you relaxed into the cushions.

“wha’ happened..?”

“you managed to get sick, somehow… but it’s okay, in my care, you’ll recover quite fast. so don’t worry,” was his response.

you… got sick? is that it?

suddenly, you feel more tired. you can’t remember anything, so it’s best to trust vil, right..?

yeah, yeah.. should just sleep it off.

actually, vil kind of smelt like.. pennies?

oh, no — like metal.

💗💗💗

rook:

a child summoned by the dark mirror? oh, and handed off to pomefiore as well?

he’s the first one to greet you, mostly because he had scared you outside, having jumped out of a tree. he found your reaction delightful, especially when you got over the shock and was in awe of how sneaky he was..

and therefore he stuck around you more, becoming your own guide as he and you ‘adventured’ around campus. the moment you warmed up and accidentally called him ‘brother’, he had dramatically shed a few tears, theatrically spouting out words you didn’t know.

you found it funny, and gladly always tried to find rook whenever you were bored. (he was over the moon about it, you really chose him?) sometimes, though, you forget he expects you to be with him.. but that’s fine!

it’s not like he isn’t watching your every move, after all. he’ll give himself away with small ‘mishaps’, like rustling in a bush or clearing his throat a little too loud; only because your reactions were like pure gold to him, and it only made it better how those reactions.. were at him. only him.

💗

you cheered as a savanaclaw student swung you around, filled with joy as he held on tight, giving into your childish whims. the student was actually quite friendly, accepting your requests of wanting to play.

after all, you were just a little kid, and you liked fun just as much as anyone else.

“again, again!” you cried, giggling as you went up and down, enjoying the thrill.

“alright, but this should be the last time..— i do have to study,” the student sighed. he almost wanted to tell you he could sense somebody nearby, alarmed and concerned for your safety, but he held back his tongue.

“aww..” you pouted, before brightening up as he swung you around once more.

you could barely feel the eyes on your back, unknowingly used to the feeling, thinking it was normal.

as the student let you down, you squealed as an arrow flied past you, stabbing into the dirt right beside his foot.

mumbling a curse, you winced as your arm was roughly grabbed, getting dragged along as the student — far more athletic than you were — ran.

but… you could only furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

weren’t the arrows.. normal?

they always came when you accidentally stuck around someone for too long, at least getting shot once, ‘n then rook usually always comes in and steals you away! so.. it should be fine, right?

so why does the nice stranger look so cautious? rook just doesn’t like when playtime gets too long.

💗

the next day, you couldn’t help but stare in awe as rook stood in front of you, wiping something off with a cloth.

it was a little bit dirty, most likely from how much it’s been used.

as you mindlessly rambled to him on what your day was like, (he always listened, with his signature smile — even if most of the day was spent with him) you couldn’t help but wonder if you were gonna see that nice stranger again.

i mean… the arrow felt different from usual.

maybe he got mad?

..hm, no. rook was always so nice to you, and he was the best, and..— so there’s no way he got angry at all.

brain too puny to think abt french, it’s also 3 am (no dialogue from mr hunt today) AND ALSO BC OF THE TIME I’M SORRY IF THIS SEEMS A LIL IFFY (anyways)

ahoy, twst fandom

my first piece of writing for idv was yandere so i thought i’d make it a tradition n do it for twst too

Hi! Could I request hcs abt platonic modern AU Childe reacting to roommate/best friend (gn) reader feeling down and how would he try to cheer them up? Thank you!

cheer up, buttercup

summary: after an awful day, you find yourself in a gloomy mood for no reason. luckily for you, your roommate is here to help cheer you up! well, at least they try to! (it’s the thought that counts)

masterlist

pairing: platonic!childe, scaramouche, and la signora  x reader

reader info: gender neutral pronouns (they/them), reader is their roommate and friend, platonic nicknames (buttercup, idiot)

word count: 966 words

genre: modern au, platonic, comfort

format: headcanons

warnings: toxic positivity (if you really squint) from childe, mentions of scara almost “taking care of” whoever made you sad, swearing, scara grabbing reader’s wrist, signora not understanding why you’re sad, reader is just having an “off” day, reader is sad/cries  

a/n: ahhh! my first request! thank you to the lovely soul who sent this in, sorry it’s so late (your patience is appreciated)💖 i got really inspired and felt like adding two other fatui members, so i hope that’s okay! i really hope this is what you wanted, and i apologise if it isn’t 💖

childe has come home late. again.

he cracked the door open slowly, hoping that if you were asleep he wouldn’t wake you up

as he tip toes into the doorway, he hears some muffled sobbing 

childe looks in the direction it came from, and sees you sitting on the couch crying

on the inside, childe is ready to start a fight with whoever or whatever made you sad

but, childe keeps up the act of being a good and caring friend for your sake (and whoever made you sad, theoretically)

he stops sneaking around and sits down on the couch with you, concern  present on his face

he tries to get you to open up, and at some point stops you from wiping away all the tears that fall down your cheeks

childe keeps asking if you’re okay, if something happened when he was away, and if you wanted some water

you only answer one of his questions, and childe quickly goes to the kitchen for a glass

when he does return, you’ve calmed down a bit and taken some deep breaths

once again childe asks if you’re okay and if something happened while he was away

when you do eventually open up, childe just listens and nods. a few times he refrains from commenting and interrupting you, understanding that it’s your turn to speak

after you’re all done talking, childe smiles at you

he suggest going out some lunch and shopping tomorrow, assuring you that’ll he would pay

when you agree, childe breaks out into an ecstatic grin

“Alright! Now, let’s get you ready for bed. I have some big plans for us tomorrow, buttercup. We’re going to have so much fun that you’ll forget all about your worries. I promise.”

[scaramouche and la signora under the cut]

scaramouche was really late coming home, but he didn’t really care at all

you both have horrible sleeping habits, and he just knew you’d still be awake

which was enough for scara to go into a long-winded rant about how shitty his day was

you swore that he could wake up the neighbours with how loud he got

by the time scara finished putting away his coat and boots as he ranted, he finally looked over to you for a reaction

what he saw was something... unexpected

you were... crying? why? what happened? did someone hurt you?

hundreds of thoughts were going through his head, freezing him in place

but he finally snapped out of it when you began to apologise and started to wipe away your tears

scara grabbed your wrist, trying to stop you from covering up your emotions

for once, scara has this human look in his eye 

he sits down next to you and asks- no, demands you tell him who or what hurt you

if you just explain to him that you’re just feeling sad, he’ll calm down 

scara was prepared to send out a few goons after someone, but he stuffs his phone away before you can see that

he’ll hold off from insulting you, as its his natural instinct, and begrudgingly ask if you could talk about it

when scara shuts up, he is a surprisingly good listener. he nods along and does his best not to interrupt

once you finish talking, scara has this fierce look in his eye 

he wishes that you could have talked about this sooner with him, but scara does understand that it’s difficult to do that

he’s not the best at comforting others, and usually just applies what works for him onto others

and luckily for scara, a trip to McDoanld’s at three am in the morning works just as well on you as it does him

“Come on, let’s go, in the car. No, this isn’t a kidnapping, idiot. This is called “me taking care of my friend.” Now if you want McDoanld’s, hop in the car already.”

signora was actually just having some coffee, taking in the silence after a long day of work

then you come sulking past the kitchen doorway, straight to your room

she’s a bit surprised, she didn’t even realise you had come home yet

and something wasn’t right. usually you would at least say hi to her and grab a cup of coffee, but you straight out ignored her

signora is a bit offended, i mean, she was actually going to make you a cup of coffee just now to welcome you home and you just ignored her? how dare you

she stomps over to your room, ready to give you a piece of her mind when she hears sniffling through your door

signora halts, and before she can stop herself she whispers your name

it’s not that signora hates comforting people... but she hates comforting people

but you’re her friend and roommate, she has no choice but to make an exception 

signora leans against the door as she asks you to open up emotionally, taking a large sip of her coffee

while you talk, all she does is nod, hum, and sip. 

she does secretly think to herself that it’s ridiculous that you’re sad without reason. signora tries to help you find a reason, but you just openly admit that you’re just feeling really sad... for no reason

signora doesn’t get it at all, but she tries for you

when you’ve finished, she’s trying to think of something (anything really) that could easily solve your problem and brighten your mood

but nothing comes to her mind that would help you

“Look, I don’t really know how to comfort people. This is kind of hard for me, but I’m more than willing to try and help you. Just...  just tell me what you need and its yours, okay? Great. Now will you please come out and say hi to me, I missed you today!”

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!

Your older brother isn’t a good person. Fatui Harbingers don’t tend to be. As the Sixth—well, what do you expect?

You may be a century or so younger than him, your mother’s second failure, the true eternity she’d been searching for trapped in a child’s body, but that doesn’t mean you lack a brain, or a nose, or a set of ears. When they scream, you hear them. When he snaps, you hear him. When he calls you into his office so you can tell him about your day, you pick up on the tang of blood. It hits your nose every time. So does the residue electricity, dancing across your skin and making your hair stand on end. You know, every time.

(Whether he’s aware of this, you’re not sure. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. You don’t ask, only clutch the stuffed animal tighter in your arms and ignore how your older brother smells like the dead every time you meet him.)

But look, now: Kunikuzushi may not be a good person, but he’s the best brother.

He presses your face into his side when you’ve run into trouble and he’s had to cause a scene. A hat that wobbles atop your head, a veil that’s pulled across your eyes. Two hands that cover your own, these gestures warm with familiarity. Kunikuzushi snaps, “Are you stupid, getting yourself into trouble like that? Can you not keep your mouth shut for the one moment I’m gone? You’re the one who wanted to come with me, so behave yourself.” You don’t take the sharpness of his tongue to heart, nor the scowl as he berates you. It had hurt at first, but not for long. Now, these make you smile.

He takes you from the shrine maiden with sly eyes and two pink, swishing tails, when he hears of your birth—your creation. Back then he’d been like you: too sweet, too kind, too sensitive to the uncertainties of life’s transcience. He too had been fragile in nature and wide-eyed at the wonders of humanity, quick to cry in the face of betrayal.

Well, betrayals. Three.

You hadn’t been there for the first two, when he had lost his mother and his friend in the span of a century. But the last one, you’d witnessed. Kunikuzushi’s third; your second. The boy’s death had been the last string.

(Yes, you think. He falls before you. This is one of the few things we have left in common.

Of course, out of all things, it is this: The three betrayals it takes for Eternity’s puppets to snap.)

You didn’t mean to see it. Him. Your brother. The Balladeer.

Kunikuzushi, reaching for your mother’s gnosis.

It’s been centuries since you’ve seen him so vulnerable. If not for the Fatui, maybe you would’ve seen him like so more, but the Snezhnayan organization had hardened him. Turned him bitter, cunning. Not towards you, of course (never you, his precious little sibling) but you saw when he spoke down to others. So condescending, holding his position over their heads. So demanding.

You get the feeling that if they saw him now, they would laugh.

He’s hanging from the tubes of the robot The Doctor built for him and he looks so desperate. (He looks like the puppet he always tells you he’s not, but this time, the strings are Dottore’s, not your mother’s.)

It’s useless to strain for it now—even you know that. Even if it’s not yet in her hands, Sumeru’s god has already won. You can tell that much by how hoarse his voice has become.

Your older brother has been reduced to cries once more.

“That’s mine!” Kunikuzushi roars. You startle, stumble back. He hasn’t noticed you yet. “Don’t even try—!”

“A kid?” you hear from your right, and you see—yes. The Traveller. “What’s a kid doing here?”

You look over, open your mouth to answer, but then you hear him quiet. Your brother has gone silent. Your eyes shoot up.

His strings have snapped.

“Kun—” You catch yourself as you stumble forward. “Scaramouche! Brother!”

He is falling.

Just this once, you plead, help him. Help him. She made him, but she made you too. She made you, you’re her eternity, so surely—

Something gloved latches ’round your arm and you’re pulled back. Stop, you think to cry, but don’t. Why are you stopping me? Don’t do that!

You don’t turn though, only fight against its hold, claw at the fabric and the hand it’s slipped over—Please!

In your frustration, you give one last lunge forward.

And finally, he sees you. (But look, on his face—has it twisted in regret?)

You cry, “Broth—!”

And—too late. The crash is unbearably loud.

The fall has already ended.