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#genshin modern au
kararisa · 2 days
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darling, starling
— 19. i miss my parents — ✦
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✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧
summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?
author's notes:
boo
taglist — currently OPEN:
@aestherin @your-kuya-pogi @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @vxnuslogy @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @one-and-only-tay @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @miaakai @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq @nnasv @retiredmommylover
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aestherin · 1 year
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— KEEP MY HEART ♡
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scaramouche x f!reader social media au
SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.
status: on-going | taglist: closed
genres: social media au, college au, strangers to lovers, crack, fluff, a sprinkle of angst (?), modern au, i wanted to do smth chill haha
extras: kmh playlist is still a wip, but if you're interested in checking it out, [click here] 🤍
author's notes:
omg 2nd smau is here!!
updates may be inconsistent, i don't have a posting schedule
again, idk what i'm doing haha
english is not my first language so expect grammatical and typographical errors (bear with me please :"D)
will contain swearing
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PLAYERS.
— SL4YERS — the reds — the blued
SCOREBOARD.
game start ! (prologue)
— FIRST HALF
goal 01. i feel something ¬ goal 02. live a good life goal 03. let's play chess ¬ goal 04. do you like cats goal 05. a proof to your claim ¬ goal 06. am i being rejected goal 07. my baby ¬ goal 08. happy birthday goal 09. do you like sweets ¬ goal 10. i'm loyal, sir goal 11. my name ¬ goal 12. ghosted goal 13. unbothered ¬ goal 14. stupid is the new sexy goal 15. call me baby ¬ goal 16. i'm taking you out goal 17. kuni
— HALF TIME
goal 18. i can teach you ¬ goal 19. one thing goal 20. home ¬ goal 21. available for sale goal 22. welcome ig ¬ goal 23. note to self goal 24. tba ¬ goal 25. it was boring goal 26. tba ¬ goal 27. tba
— SECOND HALF
tba
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TAGLIST I @lady-elodie @aiikalvr @lovely-althxa @unsterblich-prinz @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @lowkeyivorie @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks
i cant mention more than 50 people in one post so the other taglists will be in the reblogs instead!! 🤍
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dustofthedailylife · 6 months
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Playing an emotional video game with the Genshin Men
A/N: Managed to squeeze a short and sweet Indie game (that hit me in my feels) into my busy schedule at the moment and now I can't stop thinking about playing Games with an emotional story with the Genshin men... There aren't many men included in this brainrot because this was just a random shower thought. I could throw it on my WIP pile and flesh it out at some point if you want.
Neuvillette would put his arm around your shoulder while you start crying over what is going on in the game. And while he wouldn't outwardly cry it suddenly starts pouring outside.
Alhaitham would be surprised to suddenly see tears streaming down your face as you're playing the game. He isn't sure how he should react or console you. He would hesitantly lift a hand and begins stroking your back and put your head on his shoulder in silence.
Kaveh watched you play the entire time and gets heavily invested in the game as well. So when the emotional scene comes up you're both just bawling together on the couch. He's definitely the type of guy who would discuss everything about the game in depth with you later on.
Wriothesley starts massaging your scalp with his free hand as he watches you play. And he doesn't want to admit it but the game too hit him into the feels. So he attempts to hide his face from your field of view and blinks some tears away, while being your shoulder to cry on.
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kalliyen · 1 year
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Streamer Luck 🍀
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Pairing: Wanderer x GN!Reader
Featuring: Wanderer (Genshin Impact)
Genre: Fluff, Modern AU
Summary: Streamer Wander drabbles lmao enjoy <33
Reader’s Pronouns: They/Them
Warning: wanderer (just brace yourself) bro is actually astronomically down bad, sorry id there’s any spelling or grammar mistakes i am delirious rn
Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!
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i. ‘wym you’re not single and rotting in a basement?’
Wanderer has been playing for hours on end, you could barely keep up with it.
He hasn’t come out of his room for hours and you were starting to get worried about his appetite, and his emotional well being.
Because you were such a good and doting partner, you decided to make Wanderer’s fave dish, and deliver it to his room.
Knocking on his door, he lets out a brief hum, signaling that it was good to come in. Careful not to get to close to the camera, not wanting to reveal yourself to his audience just yet.
Chat noticed the presence of another person in the room, and immediately bombarding Wanderer with questions like “who tf is that???” and “where did they spawn from???”
“Darling you’ve been streaming for 6 hours, take a break and eat first okay? Just call me when you need anything else.” You state, trying to resist giving him a peck on the lips.
Your boyfriend pauses his game, looks at you, then chat, and decides to pull your waist to his level to give you not one peck, but multiple.
Taken aback but not at all surprised from your boyfriend’s sudden show of affection, you lean into the kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.
Chat absolutely EXPLODES when they saw that, but Wanderer did not give two shits, and decided to kiss your hand, while deeply looking into your eyes
“Thanks Honey, I’ll take a break and eat this, thank you so much for looking out for me :)”
“No problem darl, just come out when I call you for dinner okay?” “Yes honey” And with that you leave the room, leaving Wanderer with him and his chat
He scans the messages, multiple times he sees “SO DOWN BAD LMAOO” and “did u kidnap them or something to take are of you”
A little irked at chat, he angrily replies “No I am NOT down bad (he is) and NO I did not kidnap them. They’re my partner. Why is that so hard to believe?”
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ii. honey face reveal when?
Ever since you’ve made your existence known to Wanderer’s fan base they’ve been calling you Honey, mostly mocking him about the nickname he has for you. (they do find it cute tho fr)
They tell him to bring you into the stream more, saying that they missed your voice and your sweet personality, honestly they don’t give a fuck about him no more they just wanna see you
Wanderer gets annoyed (again, this man is always mad at his chat somehow), and says that he can’t force you to show yourself to them, which his chat respects.
“Also their sweetness and cuteness is for me only, not my fault that you guys are lonely and don’t have a partner. Imagine that, what a massive L” he says to his chat, and they start arguing with him again. (someone save his fan base)
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iii. HONEY REVEALLL !!!!!
Seeing that your boyfriend’s fans really liked you, you decided to tell Wanderer that you’re finally comfortable with sharing your face to the internet, which he was really happy with. Because god he really wanted to show of the love of his life to the world, and smash it in their faces that only he could have you.
You suggest to him that you do a cute little baking stream together as your face reveal, and he couldn’t deny the adorable smile on your face while suggesting it to him, so of course he obliged.
While he was setting up the cameras and you were setting up the ingredients you felt really nervous, thoughts of ‘what if they don’t like me?’ plagued your mind, and Wanderer sensed your uneasy demeanor. He came up to you and gave you a kiss that meant ‘don’t be nervous honey, i’ll always be here for you.’
He turns the stream on and immediately people start to come in, surprised at the change of scenery.
‘Wanderer doesn’t live in his basement confirmed?!?!’ a TTS message read, and he gave the camera a glare
Chat immediately noticed you and started chanting “HONEY!” “OH MY GOD ITS HONEY FINALLY”
You gave a meek wave to the camera, still a bit nervous, but with Wanderer’s hand on your waist you knew you had nothing to worry about.
“Hello everyone,,,,I’m y/n, you probably know me as ‘honey’ and i’m…..wanderer’s partner” you say with small smile on your face, eyes turning into small slits
In conclusion, the stream was a success and chat was absolutely smitten with you.
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bonus: iv. Honey takes over the channel 😱
Now that you’ve gotten more comfortable showing yourself on stream, you sometimes played games with Wanderer too, like co-op in this game called Genshin or other games that allowed two person players.
Sometimes, you even started streams yourself whenever you wanted to share something to his audience, or get advice from them when you start a new game.
Wanderer of course sees these streams and he just has the lovey dovey-est smile in the world, you swear you saw his eyes turn into hearts.
Damn, his streamer luck is insane.
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odoraful · 1 month
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Domestic Bliss
characters: diluc, wanderer, childe content: sfw, modern au, established relationship, fluff !! a/n: i was scouring pinterest looking the most fitting inspo rooms for each of them hehe
Diluc
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Your shared home is an old-fashioned but charming house with a tiled roof and a brick archway leading to the entrance of the door. Diluc has a good eye for style — all the furniture pieces you select together are warm and elegant, perfectly matching with the vintage style home.
He’s a bit of a craftsman, and when you moved in he custom built bookshelves just for you. Your house has traces of Diluc’s handiwork: a wooden tissue box cover, tile coasters, a ceramic chess set.
Being a peak acts of service man, if he notices that there’s something inconveniencing you that can be mended, he’ll try to find a way to fix it. That wooden chair that wobbled yesterday when you sat down on it? The next day, it’s miraculously levelled. Always struggling to find your keys before you leave the house? There are now little hooks on the wall where you can easily hang them. He doesn’t make a huge show of it, but you’ll always kiss him on the cheek and say that you should repay him with something.
“There’s no need. Seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” He replies, running a hand through his hair, the tips of his ears turning red.
The house is IMPECCABLY cleaned — the chores are shared out between the two of you, and the both of you work like a well-oiled machine. He’ll insist that you shouldn’t carry anything too heavy though! He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself :(
One of the things that Diluc wouldn’t ever trade is getting the chance to cuddle with you in the evening on the couch. He’ll let you play with his hair and try out different styles, comforted by the feeling of your fingers running through it.
Sometimes, he’ll come home late from work tired and perhaps a bit grumpy, but the sight of you will change his mood completely.
At the sound of jangling keys and the front door creaking shut, you rush out of the bathroom and down the stairs. 
“(Y/N), I’m home!” You hear Diluc’s voice call out to you.
The day had felt far too long for him, and with far too many headaches for him to deal with. The only thing that he looked forward to at the end of it all was to see you again. 
Hearing the patter of your slippers, he looks up. It takes everything within him to keep composed at your appearance. Having just gotten out of a hot shower, your cheeks were tinted pink, hair still damp and slicked. Diluc’s eyes trailed to your clothes, a matching pair of flannel shirt and shorts. He loosens his tie, suddenly finding his breath stuck in his throat. It baffled him how gorgeous you were even in pyjamas.
Wordlessly, he reaches towards you. You look down at his hands and see as they fasten the remaining top two buttons of your sleeping shirt. In your hurry to greet him at the door, you forgot to dress properly. 
“I can’t believe I missed that...” You sheepishly say, observing his hands as they linger on your shirt. Your senses told you something was off.  “Did you have troubles at work today?”
The worry in your eyes melts his heart. Of course you were the one to peer through him and know exactly how he was feeling. 
“A few clientele at the bar today were-” He sighs, still fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt, recalling the events of the day, “-difficult to manage to say the least.” He lifts his head to meet his gaze. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” 
Your arms instinctually wrap around him and he collapses into them. Tightening your embrace, he rests his head on your shoulder.
“Diluc, I just took a shower.” You say with a light giggle, trying to pull your hair away from his face.
He feels your breath close to his ear and he wishes he could have recorded that laugh for himself to hear it over and over again. 
“I could tell.” He breathes deeply. “Is this a new shampoo?”
“Well yes, but what I meant from that is that my hair is still wet!”
You feel him smile against you. “It doesn’t bother me. Just a few more seconds, please. I need to recharge.” 
Wanderer
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You share an apartment together since you travel to and from the same university. Although you’re studying different degrees and have different schedules, you’ll both make an effort to spend time together at home during the weekdays. 
You and Wanderer leave little notes cheering each other on and stick them to the walls or the fridge before you leave, or sneak them into pencil cases or onto laptop screens. He has a small box on his desk where he collects all your notes, neatly folding them up to preserve them.
Wanderer enjoys having the home quite minimalist. Just the essentials will do, but the two of you do splurge a bit more on your study space —  the comfiest chairs, wide desks, tactile keyboards — anything to liven up having to do assignments all the time.  
When you’re feeling too tired or distracted from your own studies, you’ll walk over to his desk and try to sit on his lap while he works. He’ll attempt to exert some self-control and reject your wishes, but eventually gives in after seeing your pout.
“Just because you’re distracted doesn’t give you any right to bother me.” He grumbles, resting his chin on your head.
He warns you that if you do decide to put plants in the house, you are responsible for them. Little do you know that he’s secretly also invested in their health. On mornings when you’re in a rush and forget to water them, he’ll spritz them with your spray bottle thinking to himself: If you died (Y/N) would be devastated, so don’t even think about it.
His favourite room is the bedroom. It’s a place for both of you to escape the stresses of being a student and relax together.
The alarm clock beeps and you wiggle in bed, reaching over a hand to quickly silence it. Bright sun filters in through the curtains, its light diffusing into the room. 
You force your eyes open and sit up, your body bent over like a crooked branch. Movement beside you pulls your attention as Wanderer shifts in his sleep. You can’t deny how pretty he looks even at rest. His long lashes fanned out under closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. His expression is that of pure peace. You know that’ll soon disappear when you both need to properly wake up and prepare for classes.
“Hey, it’s time to wake up,” you whisper, carefully coaxing him from slumber. 
Wanderer opens his bleary eyes ever so slightly, then immediately closes them. He mumbles something of refusal. You roll your eyes in resignation. When it comes to sleep, he acts like a child sometimes. You turn to get out of bed. 
Two arms wrap around your waist and yank you back. You stumble into the sheets with a yelp. Wanderer adjusts the blanket over you and pulls you closer to him with one hand. 
“Not yet.” His voice is low and scratchy, his words slurred. “Want more time in bed… with you.” 
You sigh softly, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair to detangle it. “You do this almost every morning. You’re never going to attend your lectures on time.”
He replies by nuzzling into your neck, and you hear nothing but his slow breaths. His peers would have sooner called identity fraud than believe the stony and scholarly Wanderer to be this clingy and affectionate in the morning. However, in the privacy of just you, it’s become easy for him to let down his guard. 
“Don’t try to get out of this by pretending to be asleep.” You say, deadpan.
There’s a stutter in his breathing as you catch his obvious charade. 
“Stop worrying. I’ll just watch the recording.” He finally responds. 
You realise in a fluster just how close your faces are, barely inches apart. As if sensing this, Wanderer opens his eyes once again, this time there’s a glint of mischief in them. 
He taps his forehead lightly against your own. “And besides, why would I want to spend my mornings in a noisy lecture hall when I can be with you in peace and quiet?”
Childe
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You’ve been living together for a while now, and your home has transformed into what can only be described as organised chaos.
If Childe kept up with his interior designing eagerness, it would have been complete maximalism, but you were there to contain his excitement and still ensure your home was still practical. 
The two of you love collecting pillows, plushies and blankets, which adds even more to the cosiness! However, one day you tried to sit down on the couch and realised it was more pillows than actual seat space. In a fit of laughter, you and Childe ruled that you would rotate between different cushions every so often so you could get your couch back. 
Childe will still come home with flowers or sweets (sometimes both) as gifts for you on random nights. He’ll stand on the doorstep looking like a lovesick teenage boy asking his crush out on a date. Taking them from his hands, you’ll ask what the occasion is.
“Well, there isn’t a particular occasion.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Celebrating you should be an everyday thing.”
Board game nights are taken very seriously. You have a bookshelf filled with different types of them. Whether it’s a classic game of UNO or Jenga, or something a little more strategic, he's always hyper-competitive. You also have special punishments for if one of you loses, which are harmless but maybe a little embarrassing (One of his favourite punishments for you is ‘For the entire day tomorrow, Childe will only call (Y/N) by the cheesiest pet names’). 
MASSIVE kitchen since he loves to cook. He keeps a book of recipes from his mum and has since added new ones of his own that he has shared with you. 
“Could you come over here, baby?”
You follow your partner’s voice and the scent of something freshly baked into the kitchen.
Childe is standing behind the counter, his face in deep focus. He takes one of an array of heart-shaped biscuits and dips half of it in a bowl of chocolate before placing it on a lined baking sheet. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, exposing his forearms. His muscular build is sharply juxtaposed by the cream-coloured apron tied around himself, which has a little teddy bear embroidered in its centre. 
You approach the kitchen bench, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are they ready yet? Can I try one?” You eagerly ask. 
“Not quite, I need help dipping the rest of these into chocolate.” He stretches his arms out in front of him, shaking the tension out of them.
“That being said,” he grins, extending a hand towards you across the kitchen bench as an offer, “would you do me the honour of being my baking assistant for a little?” 
Chuckling at his dramatics, you delicately place your hand in his like royalty. “I’d be delighted to help.”  
Childe guides you to his side and helps you put on your apron. As he ties the strings together, he relays the instructions to you. 
“You just need to dip half of the biscuit into chocolate, and then add some sprinkles on top before it sets.” He tightens the bow around your waist to secure it.
How hard could that be? You think, nodding along to his words.
Demoing an example, Childe deftly coats half of the biscuit. Angling it just right, the chocolate drips off and evens itself out, leaving a perfect covered half. After placing it on the tray and adding the finishing touch of sprinkles, he gestures for you to try it yourself.
You confidently take one biscuit and dunk it. 
“Ah!” 
Underestimating its consistency, when you lift the biscuit, the chocolate slowly spreads onto the other half of the heart and drips onto your fingers. You quickly place it onto the baking sheet. Childe stifles his laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“My one looks so much worse compared to yours…” you mutter, licking your fingers to remove the evidence of your unsuccessful attempt. 
Seeing the frown on your face, he gently bumps your shoulder with his own in encouragement. “Don’t say that! I think your one has a lot more charm.” He says, adding the sprinkles onto your heart. “I’ll run some extra baking classes with you to build up your skills, how does that sound?”
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xiaoluvss · 1 month
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scara college au ! ݁ ˖๋ ࣭‹3 ⭑
(compsci major!scara & fine arts major!reader)
this is my first time writing,, pls go easy on me😭n im literally doing this while paintingggg
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♡ collegestudent!scara who is also your.. really cold roommate that's a compsci major.
♡ collegestudent!scara whose first impression on you was that he didn't like you, due to the cold and stoic expression that was always on his face. and the way he talked to you at first as if you annoyed him just by breathing.
♡ collegestudent!scara who eventually warms up to your soft personality and doesn't seem as cold as before. he now accompanies you everywhere. even to your favorite café.
♡ collegestudent!scara who has a completely different music and fashion taste from yours.
♡ collegestudent!scara who used to hate being called 'kuni' by you but had warmed up to it by now. he knows something's wrong when you don't call him that.
♡ collegestudent!scara who stays up late often and then gets sick as a result, so you have to take care of him every time. he throws a lot of cuss words at you but you know deep down he appreciates you. he actually really loves your cooking.
♡ collegestudent!scara who also scolds you whenever you stay up late sketching or painting, dragging you harshly to your bed to tuck you in. yet it's somehow okay when he stays up late?
♡ collegestudent!scara who always picks you up after your classes.
♡ collegestudent!scara who has made it a habit to have late night visits to the nearby convenience store with you. he makes sure to stay by your side at all times.
♡ collegestudent!scara who comforts you by either taking you to your favorite café and buying your favorite drink & pastry . . or taking you to an art museum/art store even though he's not interested in art.
♡ collegestudent!scara who always complains about having to accompany you to the art supplies store but goes anyway.
♡ collegestudent!scara who watches you paint when he's bored and has nothing else to do.
♡ collegestudent!scara who once heard people gossiping about you in the hallway and sent a death glare towards them that scared them away. luckily he didn't punch them.
♡ collegestudent!scara who so obviously has a crush on you that his friends tease him about it, and even has a gallery in his phone full of candid pictures of you. some of them were sent to you and were put on your instagram story.
♡ collegestudent!scara who absolutely adores your artworks but never shows it. he once found multiple sketches of him when he flipped through one of your many sketchbooks. he definitely didn't take a picture of that.
♡ collegestudent!scara who will and always admire you, from afar or not.
♡ collegestudent!scara whose favorite artist will always be you.
♡ collegestudent!scara whose soft spot will always be you.<3
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shrewcafe · 3 months
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neuvifuri college au where they both go to the same university and yes this is how they met, accidentally matching outfits like they (their past lives coughs) haven't done that for the past 500 yrs
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xynwrites · 10 months
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Setter! Albedo who fucks you, their libero in the shower room. Hand on your mouth to keep you quiet, while the other holds your knees up as he pounds relentlessly in your hole. He cums and cums inside of you, overflowing out your hole, the water washing it away. It's inappropriate, but that itself is arousing.
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lovinggstar · 3 months
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# JEALOUSY ★ !!
— where one of their friends get too close to you, and their reactions !
cw :: not proofread, MAY BE OOC NOT SURE, written with modern au in mind (but it can be read in the genshin universe ^_^) the tiniest bit suggestive in childes part, use of childe's real name in his part, swearing in scaramouche's part, fluff, gn reader !
characters :: albedo, childe, scaramouche
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阿贝多 ALBEDO :: everytime his friend would sit next to you really close, everytime his friend would put his arm around your shoulder, everytime his friend would talk to you a little too much, he kept his composure. or atleast, he was subtle about his jealousy.. he would put the mug on his table a bit too hard, causing a sound enough to alert people, he would be passive aggressive towards his friend, he would interrupt conversations towards you and his friend (which he almost never does with anyone else because he knows his manners), etc. after the hangout with albedo's friend, he goes up to you and hugs you from behind. "oh? what's this for?" you question him, although you enjoy this, you're curious why the sudden backhug is given to you. albedo hides his face into your neck, "mh.. let's stay like this for a while."
公子 CHILDE :: ever since childe introduced you to his friend, you started talking about them alot to him because you think that the more you and childe have in common, the better ! but childe is more jealous than ever..
"oh and then THEY said that i—" "stop talking about themm.." he murmured to hinself, pouting, however, you heard it. "huh?" you look at him, confused, childe starts stammering, noticing his mess-up. "ajax.. are you jealous?" you smirk at him, it's not everyday you see him stammering like this. "alright, alright.. you caught me." he put his hands up in defense, "awhh c'monnn, you know i'd never be with another guy!" you playfully hit him in the arm, but to your surprise, he caught your hand as you were doing it, and raises it up to his cheek, "i was just jealous, i know that i can make you feel good more than he can." he smirked playfully at you trying to get a reaction from you, "i'm not going to teucer's mr. cyclops themed birthday party." "WAIT NO—"
国崩 SCARAMOUCHE :: he would outright be the pettiest, in denial little fucker ever. he would go "tch, i don't care." and proceed to be ripping out paper napkins to shreds to control his anger. "scaraaa..." you lazily put his arms around his neck, "yeah?" as he said that, there was a bigggg rip on the napkin. "why are you soooo.. mad? sad?" you questioned his emotions, confused at whatever he's feeling. "i'm" riiippp "not." "oh? are you maybeee, jealous?" you smirked, laying your hand next to his by putting your head on his shoulder. "what!? hah—wh— NO.. me? being jealous? in your dreams.." he stammered and contiued grumbling under his breath. "scara, y'know i love you and only you, right?" you told him, nevertheless, he was still persistently pouting. but red.
you heard him mumble something under his breath, "hm? what is it?" he mumbled again but louder. "what?" you were there confused and wondering what he needed to say. he mumbled AGAIN. "huh????" you knew what he said now, still, you wanted to tease him, "I SAID I LOVE YOU TOO, GOD DAMMIT." he finally huffed, realizing that he screamed that, he covered his mouth, and was red. "i know !!" you slyly smiled and kissed him on the cheek, "i just wanted to hear you say it !"
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note :: i tried doing more chars but im currently not in that much of a mood to write + THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGEESSS
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vivalabunbun · 1 year
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Let's Look Over The Garden Wall
Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house. 
Word Count: 9.9k
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy
Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!
Side note: Here is the other side, Finale
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The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night. 
Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction. 
“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.” 
He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts. 
In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood. 
Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory. 
Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things. 
Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings. 
The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.
“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”
You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair. 
“So,” he begins.
“What are your demands?” 
“Marry me.”
Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?
You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.
“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.
In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits. 
Alhaitham skips over that section. 
Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.
No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.  
“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him. 
How romantic. 
“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk. 
With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.
“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.  
“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”
The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence. 
“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off. 
“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.  
“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink. 
A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.
“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”
“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake. 
Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter. 
As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street. 
What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah. 
The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in. 
Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels. 
Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth. 
When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything. 
All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement. 
Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.
Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.
A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time? 
He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream. 
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On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.
“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table. 
The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that. 
“Whichever flowers you want.” 
Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.
The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited. 
Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle. 
The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose. 
Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.
Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.
Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy. 
In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him. 
Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.
“Did you enjoy the reception?” 
Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’. 
“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough. 
“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist. 
Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh. 
“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him. 
As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband? 
“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips. 
“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride. 
The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within. 
With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.
Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar. 
Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities? 
Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?
“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?” 
Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes. 
Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium. 
Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine. 
“Oh? Since when was this transparent?” 
A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything. 
Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight. 
“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.” 
It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night. 
“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping. 
Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it. 
“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief. 
Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below. 
“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out. 
How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for. 
“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?” 
“Y-your fingers.” 
“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance. 
Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern. 
“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling. 
“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls. 
Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step. 
Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse. 
“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?” 
Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside. 
“C-cummin-” 
How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy. 
Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force. 
Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature. 
From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you. 
The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive. 
As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes. 
Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself. 
“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head. 
“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”
Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions. 
“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension. 
“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.
“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles. 
“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”
So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you. 
Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit. 
Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair. 
Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin. 
The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort. 
A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder. 
The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced. 
“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder. 
Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom. 
“I love you too.” 
The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.
“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin. 
What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours. 
It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.
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“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”
“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”
“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”
It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid? 
Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities. 
Must you call on him for everything?
Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic. 
“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”
Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices. 
Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high. 
A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently. 
One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.
Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation. 
Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him. 
“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”
Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine. 
The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along. 
 Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception. 
“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure. 
Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star. 
If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-
“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite. 
You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving. 
“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head. 
Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..” 
Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice. 
Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.
“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep. 
From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in. 
Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know. 
Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist. 
Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss? 
“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed. 
A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises. 
“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table. 
Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion. 
“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered. 
“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass. 
It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink. 
Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime. 
“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass. 
Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone. 
The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his. 
Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours. 
“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone. 
After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves. 
‘You must uphold the clauses.’ 
Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now. 
“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers. 
“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him. 
Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home. 
The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?
Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids. 
“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed. 
Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else. 
“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.
“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.” 
What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?
“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.” 
Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do. 
“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers. 
Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?
Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more. 
No. 
“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised. 
“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted. 
The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek. 
“Welcome home, Haitham.” 
Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity. 
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Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines. 
“Is my drama too loud?”
Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here. 
“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”
“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”
“Top left, how long will it take?”
“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”  
The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths. 
“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you. 
A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers. 
“You said they smelled bad.”
“I’m used to it.” A half-truth. 
Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet. 
“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him. 
Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough. 
“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.” 
Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf. 
“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace. 
His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth. 
He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier. 
What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time. 
“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.
“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!” 
Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.
The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side. 
The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.
The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.
 Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.
Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.
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Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends. 
“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side. 
“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms. 
“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped. 
“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold. 
“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls. 
“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence. 
“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls. 
“Who’s home are you currently guests in?” 
Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter. 
“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated. 
“Mmm,” you hummed. 
With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.
Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.  
“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again. 
The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house. 
If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees. 
It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire. 
“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up. 
Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours. 
“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily. 
“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady. 
“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer. 
After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face. 
“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them. 
After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests. 
You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.
Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.
Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses. 
For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure. 
Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths. 
Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth. 
He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch. 
“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back. 
“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed. 
“Just call for me.” 
You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun. 
“Wait,” came your soft call. 
Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips. 
“Thank you, Haitham.” 
Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable. 
“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets. 
“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten. 
“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now. 
“Come here?” 
Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits. 
Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs. 
“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours. 
Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it. 
His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.
Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.
The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms. 
“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air. 
What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey. 
“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home. 
“Thank you, how much would I owe?”
“None, just a gift for your wife.” 
Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen. 
The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him. 
“Alhaitham.” 
He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire. 
“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side. 
Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.
Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.
In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity. 
However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make? 
It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce. 
What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.
Who wouldn’t want more time? 
A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind. 
“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion. 
Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent. 
Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting. 
You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent. 
If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms. 
Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you. 
Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.
“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes. 
Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back. 
“I will die as one.”
He hums in confirmation. 
A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans. 
Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret. 
As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband. 
Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have. 
He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table. 
The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take. 
Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires. 
Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction. 
“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him. 
Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs. 
“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it. 
“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his. 
The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.
Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.
On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night. 
“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.” 
That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue. 
“I’m home.” He locks the door after him. 
Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears. 
Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room. 
You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep. 
A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom. 
Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry. 
Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning. 
Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth. 
Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand. 
Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet. 
The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles. 
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When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own. 
In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement. 
Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon. 
How should he say the last lines of this script?
Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.
With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together. 
“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle. 
Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself. 
“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him. 
There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched. 
Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t. 
Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow. 
“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again. 
“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.
You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes. 
The ending clause of that contract be damned. 
“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears. 
Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.
Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away. 
Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape. 
Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.
Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call. 
He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.
However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.  
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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the-travelling-witch · 11 months
Text
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑
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summary: working in a coffee shop means you always meet a wide variety of personalities; but why, out of all options, did you have to go and take an interest in the mysterious guy with an attitude problem?
pairing: piercer! scara x gn barista! reader
warnings: uhh needles (obviously), cursing like once, reader has questionable nicknaming skills (they're worse than paimon's)
modern au series || genshin impact masterlist
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It was a typical Monday morning in the coffee shop you were working at, most customers seemingly dragging themselves in after rolling out of bed with the occasional energy ball as an exception. The aroma of roasted coffee beans filled your nose as you worked on several orders and people entered or left the store at a steady rate.
Once rush hour was pretty much over, the doorbell chimed again to reveal a guy with a dark and choppy bob cut you were sure not many people could pull off. The black clothes draped over his silhouette were deliberately torn at some places and a black mask covered the rest of his face except for striking indigo eyes and two gleaming dermal piercings peeking out from under the fabric on his right cheek. 
“Good morning, what would you like to order?” you greeted, the expected smile already on your lips.
Without so much as a greeting, he said in a monotone voice, “A large black coffee to go.”
Wow, quite the attitude but then again, it was Monday morning and you had seen worse. So, not thinking too much about it, you continued as normal. “May I ask for your name?”
“Huh?”
“To write on your cup, so we can call you when your order is ready to be picked up,” you patiently explained.
In a tone that suggested the guy was bored out of his mind, he merely drawled a “Just write whatever” and went back to scrolling on his phone.
It was a good thing you weren’t holding a cup yet or you might have crumbled it. So much for giving him the benefit of the doubt. Your eyes narrowed as your smile and voice took on an almost unnoticeable edge. “Sure thing,” you replied in a sweet tone before telling him his total. 
A few minutes passed after you gave the guy’s order to your coworker who sniggered as you handed them the receipt. While taking more orders, you were keenly aware of that indigo-eyed jerk’s presence lingering by one of the windows, back leaning against the wall and ringed fingers reflecting the morning sun. 
Setting a cup down on the counter, your coworker called out “A large black coffee to go for ‘Whatever’!” 
At the unusual call, a few other customers turned to see what was happening and the guy himself seemed taken aback for a short second before collecting himself. As he walked up to the counter, he threw you an unimpressed glare which you returned with an innocent shrug. 
Despite his grumpy attitude, the guy kept coming back for the next couple of weeks to the point where you could pinpoint the exact time he’d walk through that door, always ordering a large black coffee. He’d yet to give you his name, so when you went to prepare his coffee ahead of time, you continued to write ‘Whatever’ on it. 
It might have been your imagination, but you thought Bob-Cut seemed to mellow out more too as he kept coming back and you built somewhat of a routine. He’d actually use words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ which you didn’t think possible the first time you met him. And, much to your chagrin, you had to admit the nonchalant attitude paired with his style and accessories suited him really well and you sometimes had trouble tearing your gaze away from deep pools of lapis. Not that you’d ever make it known to his face though.
Slowly but surely, you started looking forward to seeing him everyday too. Remembering you’d get to see the mysterious - yet cute- guy walk in again made you positively giddy with excitement as you got ready in the morning. 
Yet this particular day your enthusiasm was stumped as the prepared cup of black coffee sat lonely behind the counter, waiting to be picked up. But he never came, no matter how often you expectantly looked up as the bell jingled. Your coworker patted you on the back encouragingly and you dragged yourself through your shift, a sunken feeling settling in your chest.
The next day, no coffee sat premade on the counter while you worked on orders. With your back turned to the door you almost didn’t notice it swing open. A gruff ‘Morning’ made your eyes light up before you composed yourself and turned to face the strongest resting bitch face ever.
“Good morning, what would you like to order?” You smiled, deciding to play coy although you already knew the answer.
And that was actually the look he gave you; eyes narrowed unimpressed and brow twitching upwards. “Seriously, I don’t come in for a day and you've already forgotten me. That’s a bit harsh, no?”
“Well you never know,” you shrugged playfully. “Maybe you had a change of heart as your coffee was all alone yesterday.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. He had nothing to apologise for in your opinion but it was cute anyway. “A client cancelled their appointment on short notice and my coworkers had all the other clients handled, so I didn’t come to the studio in the morning.”
The guy must’ve caught on to the curiosity visible on your face because he followed it up with “I’m a piercer and tattoo artist.”
“Oh wow, really?” you said, remembering your own plans to get a new piercing somewhen soon. Since your last piercer had closed their shop, you had kind of pushed that thought to the back of your mind though. Suddenly you were very much aware again of the ink peeking over the neck of his shirt and the piercings gleaming in the shop light “Where do you work?”
“In the studio down the road. If you don’t believe me, you should drop by,” he challenged defensively, although you didn’t doubt him at all. Realising what he just said, his eyes widened in the first big show of emotion you’d seen from him and you thought you could see a faint rosy tint where his mask ended. “No, I mean– Forget I said anything!”
For the rest of the interaction, the guy kept his head down, bangs obscuring his eyes which never quite met yours. It was cute seeing someone who acted so aloof usually be all shy and bashful and you tugged the info about his workplace away for later. To be precise, for the coming weekend. 
On your day off, you found yourself in front of the glass door of a tattoo shop. The pleasant scent of flowers from the shop next to it filled the air as you took a deep breath before you pulled the handle towards you. You chastised yourself for being giddy and letting your hopes get the better of you; for all you know, he might not even work today. Or what if he really didn’t want you here?
Your nerves were forgotten when you entered the studio. Along the walls of the modern entrance area hung a variety of different sketches, distinct both in style and motif. From fine-line flowers to precise geometrics to calligraphy and Japanese style tattoos, you wondered just how many coworkers Bob-Cut had and which sketches were his as you studied the signatures.
“Hi there, how can I help you?” You spun around to face an auburn haired man who had appeared behind the counter, his olive eyes twinkling at your reaction. 
“Oh uhm, I wanted to get a new piercing. That’s fine without a scheduled appointment, right?” 
“Sure, thing. Just fill out these documents here and tell me what piercing you want and I’ll hook you up with someone who’s not working right now,” he smiled brightly, yet you had the strange sense that mischief was bubbling just underneath the surface.
“Actually,” you couldn’t believe you were about to say this out loud, “is there a piercer working here with an indigo bob cut and two piercings on his cheek?”
“Oh?” And there it was, that teasing lilt in his voice which raised the hairs in the back of your neck. “Yo, ‘mouchie, there’s a cutie here to see you!”
A mere few seconds after his shout reverberated down the short hallway behind the desk, steps could be heard as a familiar raspy voice answered. “If you call me that again, I’ll fucking ki– What are YOU doing here?!”
“Oh, so you really do know each other,” Olive-Eyes snickered.
Deciding to ignore him, you tilted your head at the accusatory finger still pointed in your direction. “You invited me, remember?”
“I told you to forget it!”
“Well, too bad you’re not my boss and I can do what I want,” you snipped. “Besides, I wanted a new piercing anyway, so I decided to come here. Where’s the problem with that?”
The sound of your bickering lured in two more onlookers, a guy with dark blue hair tied into two braids to frame his face and one guy with his teal hair tied into a messy ponytail, who was staring down at his phone as if it was way more interesting than his colleagues. 
“What am I hearing? Scara inviting someone over?” The braid-guy sing songed. He mimicked wiping a tear from his eye dramatically. “That I can still witness the day… They grow up so fast.”
“Go to hell, all of you,” ‘Scara’ seethed.
“Alright, see you there.” Teal-Bangs didn’t even look up from his phone, the quip rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing.
“Wow, even Xiao is bullying you now,” Olive-Eyes chimed in.
Dual-Braids laughed, slinging an arm around Bob-Cut’s shoulders and you feared he might bite it off given the glare he was sending his coworker. “You should really stop hitting him with the newspaper, you know?”
“Uh, guys…?” you interjected before they could start squabbling again. “About that piercing…?”
“Oh right!” The auburn-haired man took the documents from you and gave you a wide smile. “As I said, a piercer who’s free will take care of that aaaaaand would you look at that! Scara happens to be free, so he’ll have the honour of giving you a cool new accessory!”
“Hey, I-” Your coffee shop acquaintance tried to protest but Heizou was already ushering you in his direction.
“Now, go have fun, you two,” he teased. “But not too much, okay? 
That was how you found yourself standing in a neat piercing room, bright white light illuminating the equipment stashed there. There was a sigh behind you and ‘Scara’ crossed the room. 
“They’re such nuisances,” he mumbled before he fixed his indigo eyes on you. Without his black mask on, you could see that besides the two dermal piercings on his right cheek he also had a nostril on the left side of his nose. As he spoke up again, a silver ball sitting on his tongue reflected the crisp light. “You’re okay with that? I mean, me being your piercer and all. Heizou didn’t give you much of a choice but just know that you can back out if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine by me, if you’re okay with it too,” you sincerely replied. “I mean you were pressured into it just as much.”
“I’m used to their antics though.” After a brief moment of gazing at each other, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to take a seat. “So, what kind of piercing do you want?”
You watched him pull on a pair of black latex gloves and only when he looked back at you did the question register in your brain. “A helix, here,” you said, pointing at your ear.
“Sure thing.” Rolling closer on a chair, he marked the spot you indicated and handed you a mirror. “Like that?”
When you gave your approval, he went back to the desk to prepare the necessary equipment and sterilised it. The silence prompted you to ask the question that has been burning on your tongue for a while now. “So your name is Scara?”
“Scaramouche is my artist name, I’m going by that,” he replied. “But Scara is fine.”
You didn’t have much time to wonder about the implications of using an artist name because a moment later, Scara appeared in front of you again. Needle in hand, his eyes came level with yours again. Up close, you could make out all the tiny specks of amethyst caught in the light and his scent invaded your senses.
“You ready?” he asked quietly, his low voice preserving the delicate atmosphere your proximity created. When you nodded, he gave you a small smirk, demeanour entirely changed from how you’d gotten to know him. “Alright, this is going to hurt a little but the pain will be brief. I need you to hold still through it, can you do that for me?”
Not trusting your voice, you nodded again as you swallowed. Latex met the side of your jaw in a ghost of a touch as Scara gently tilted your head the way he needed it. All nerve endings in your skin lit up as liquid fire spread from the tips of his fingers through your veins, the strange intimacy getting to you more than you could have prepared for.
You felt the Scara’s exhale brush your cheek as he positioned the needle and your warbled thoughts caught up with the situation the moment he pushed it through. But only when the jewellery followed did you flinch.
“There we go, the worst part is done,” he soothed. Giving the mirror back to you, he left you to admire his work as he got up. The calm call of your name pulled you from your own reflection as Scara held out a glass of water to you.
“Thanks,” you smiled before pausing. “Wait, did I even tell you my name?”
“Read it on your file,” he replied nonchalantly as you gave him an unimpressed glance.
“I’m sure that falls under poor etiquette,” you playfully chastised him.
“So? The outcome is the same, isn’t it?” he shrugged, yet you couldn’t help but find it endearing. “You good to go? C’mon, I’ll show you the way out.”
As you wrapped up the payment and Scara went over all the mandatory steps in taking care of your new piercing, you were well aware of the doors opening and the people peeping into your conversation. So much for privacy.
“Well then, that’s that.” The metal of his tongue piercing held your attention until Scara brushed some of his hair behind his ear, revealing a few piercings of his own. Among them was a helix which mirrored yours in placement. “Get home safe, yeah?”
“I will, thanks.” Your smile was filled with genuine gratitude. As you pushed through the glass door, you turned back to wave. “See you tomorrow!”
Maybe it was your imagination but as you left you thought there was an actual smile gracing his sharp features.
The next day, your spirits were high as they could be. Not only were you excited to show off your new accessory, you’d also been on cloud nine since leaving the piercing studio, butterflies stirring in your stomach every time you thought back to how he touched you. Perhaps what you were about to do was a little bold but you’d be damned if you didn’t shoot your shot.
As expected, Scara came in at the same time as every morning and you’d just finished brewing his coffee. He too seemed to be in a better mood than usual as he walked up to the counter. While you typed in his order, you made a bit of small talk over how your piercing was healing.
“It’s all good,” you laughed and showed the jewellery to him. “Almost like my piercer knew what he was doing.”
“You better believe that,” he countered. However, you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemingly lit up and crinkled at the edges, as they did when he smirked, when his gaze fell onto the piercing he put on you. His reaction gave you a boost of confidence for what you were about to do.
Handing him his cup, you wished him a great day and watched as he went to leave before stopping dead in his tracks. No doubt he discovered the little ‘If you ever feel like going for a coffee while I’m not working ♡ (and don’t whatever me!)’ you had scribbled onto the cup holder, followed by your phone number. You gave him a wink when he searched your eyes and watched him pull out his phone. A few seconds later your phone pinged.
Unknown number: whatever Unknown number: are you free this week?
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© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit
if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡
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aestherin · 27 days
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KEEP MY HEART
goal 21: available for sale
one of my favs for sure HAHAHA i've been waiting to write this chapter ever since i outlined my ideas 😭 also apologies for the long wait :>
also how are you guys? i hope y'all are doing well :))
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KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau
previous . masterlist . next
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SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.
TAGLIST I (closed)
@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks
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seelestia · 1 year
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— 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄, 𝐂'𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄!
SUMMARY. some headcanons about sumeru men as your boyfriend in the modern ages. (teyvat who? we only know earth.)
CHARACTERS. tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, scaramouche/wanderer.
GENRE. fluff, crack, modern au.
CW. lowercase intended, use of pet names, written before kaveh and wanderer's release, scara is referred to as kunikuzushi.
THOUGHTS. this format is a bit different than my regular ones, but i hope this is still able to tickle a little laugh out of someone <3
✰ masterlist.
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☆ TIGHNARI!
boyfie!tighnari whose unofficial job is to cook meals for the both of you; he actually doesn't mind, but what worries him the most is if you step into the kitchen — unless you manage to prove the existence of your culinary skills to him, that is. (#y/nramsay??)
"nari, i'm home!" you chirp, closing the front door behind you. the smell of something tasty wafts through the air and you peek into the kitchen like a curious kitten.
immediately, you are greeted by the sight of tighnari at the stove with your favorite apron on (yes, it has "kiss the cook" on it but tighnari would throw a ladle at you). it doesn't take long for him to notice your gaze lingering on him. tighnari doesn't even have to look back as he hums, "welcome home."
you lean against the wall with an impish grin on your face, "so... what's cookin', good lookin'?"
your boyfriend shoots you an unimpressed look, "...go take a shower, (y/n)."
boyfie!tighnari who combs your hair for you when you're half asleep in the morning. he takes care of his hair very well, so he might as well help you while he is at it. tighnari reasons that he does this because you look too sleepy to function normally… but maybe, he just likes admiring your sleepy face. (that trail of dry drool, though, not so much.)
"hey, hey, stay still," tighnari huffs an exasperated sigh when you start to lean forward in your sleepy state. he puts a hand on your forehead, stopping you from moving any further. "i can't brush your hair properly if you keep nodding off," he shakes his head.
you mumble, "so... tired..." his eyes soften slightly at the sound of your light-headed tone, "yes, i can see that. now, stay still."
boyfie!tighnari who tells you lots of unnecessary botany facts that you don't really ask for, but he looks cute nerding out, so you just listen without a clue.
"unnecessary? you might need these facts in the future," tighnari frowns, clearly taking offense when you throw his botany facts into the "unnecessary" category.
you snort, "yeah, for what?"
"for the possibility of me disowning you and leaving you to fend for yourself in the jungle one day," he says that so flatly that you almost do a double take.
he sounds like he's been planning that for years but he is just joking, obviously.
boyfie!tighnari who chides you when you get sick. no, he isn't mad, he is just very concerned... and disappointed. so, you get a nagging boyfriend with a mix of both.
"...are you mad at me?" you ask through sniffles and a runny nose. "no," tighnari replied as he places a neatly folded and soaked cloth on your forehead.
"you look mad," you point out with a pouty look. "no, i'm not," he responds with that dry tone again, trying to hush you by gently shoving a thermometer into your mouth.
"...i'm sorry," you mutter.
"if you are, then don't do that again. i thought i told you that—" and off into a ramble he goes. (in his defense, he cares for you so it only makes for him to worry... and nag like a mom.)
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☆ CYNO!
boyfie!cyno who clings to you like a koala when you wake up. you're like a source of comforting warmth that he can't help but snuggle. who would've thought that a scary fellow like him can be seen literally melting into you?
"cyno, i can't move," you utter quietly. as much as you'd like for him to cling onto you longer, one has to rise and shine eventually.
"...sorry," your boyfriend mumbles into your back, slightly muffled but audible and coherent enough. great, now you feel bad for telling him that.
boyfie!cyno who leans against you when he plays a game on his console. or, have you sit close to him when he is playing a card game because you're his "lucky charm".
"are you sure you'd win if i stay here?" you lay your head on his shoulder, peering into the console he is playing in his hands.
cyno nods without tearing his eyes off the screen, "even if i lose, i still want you here, anyway."
(is he... flirting? does he even realize he is flirting? yeah, he probably doesn't and he's cute for that.)
boyfie!cyno who puts little candies in your pocket for you to munch on when you feel bored.
you can't help the sneaky grin that makes its way onto your lips as you ask, "are you giving me these so i'll think of you when i eat them?"
this catches cyno by surprise. he almost splutters into a fit of flustered coughs, but he manages to hold his composure. "well, i-if you want to," he says meekly.
well, sort of managed to, anyway.
boyfie!cyno who scowls back at anyone looking at you the wrong way. scary bodyguard privilege, maybe?
"cyno, what's wrong?"
you raise a confused eyebrow at the stern expression on your boyfriend's face. he is looking at something behind you, but that deadly glint shines in his eyes already speaks volumes.
his arm sneaks around your waist to pull you closer, "nothing. somebody was just staring at you."
is he possessive or just protective, who knows? perhaps, both.
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☆ ALHAITHAM!
boyfie!alhaitham who sneaks glances at you from over his book when he is reading. he denies it, though.
"you really think you're sneaky, huh? i can see you looking at me from all the way over here," you laugh.
with how much time alhaitham has spent rolling his eyes, you would've thought he lost them by now. but your lover doesn't look ready to give up.
"are you sure you weren't just seeing things? i was too immersed in the book, if you haven't noticed," he responds to your daring statement (which contains the truth, actually).
you hum sarcastically, "sure, sure."
"think whatever you want," there he goes rolling his eyes, again — but he is fooling no one with that little smile on his lips.
boyfie!alhaitham who predicts the plotlines of every single movie when you two have a movie night.
"it's getting too quiet. i reckon it's probably time... and..."
you are quite literally spooked out of your mind, holding onto the pillow in your chest like it's a lifeline. but alhaitham can't seem to relate; with the way he leans back to take in the scene on the screen, he looks more bored than anything.
"—there goes the jumpscare. i saw this coming from twenty minutes ago."
you scrunch your nose in annoyance and throw him a light scowl, "can you, at least, pretend to be the least bit shocked?"
alhaitham scoffs before letting out the fakest noise of fear, if you've ever heard one. "...ahh. there, are you happy now?"
"this is why i hate you."
"what a roundabout way to say i love you, i appreciate it."
boyfie!alhaitham who acts irritated when you want to use his shoulder to sleep, but he lets you anyway, albeit he does so very grumpily. (indirect reference to a previous work i wrote!)
the weight of your head on his shoulder doesn't bother him that much, but he can't have you getting used to this. certainly not.
alhaitham sighs tiredly, "my shoulder isn't a pillow, you know?" you nod, yet you don't move an inch as you reply, "i know."
"i assume you also know that neck pillows exist? and for a very cheap price?"
"uh-huh."
he almost wants to push you off and throw a blanket over your head. not that it'll shut you up nor would he actually do that, but a man can dream about peace.
"well, if you know, then act like it."
"no, ignorance is bliss."
alhaitham hates that philosophy but he likes you; so, he doesn't really have much of a choice, does he?
"you little... ugh, fine."
boyfie!alhaitham who quizzes you on random facts. he doesn't expect you to get them all right, of course; let's just call it "sharing is caring" but with the concept of knowledge.
why are you even subjected to this? you've asked alhaitham this before, but he tells you every time that this is just his definition of 'fun'. (and that if you love him, you'll indulge. talk about affectionate blackmail.)
"...do i look like albert einstein to you?" you gape at him, crossing your arms against your chest in disbelief. how are you supposed to answer that isaac newton level question?
"if you do, then i wouldn't have asked," he smiles. a smile that you don't think you feel relief upon seeing, you can just sense that there is a hint of sadism somewhere in his expression.
"what do i get from this?" you are ready to whine your way out of his little game, but his answer to your question has your interest marginally piqued.
alhaitham affirms, "anything you want."
"...a kiss?"
"no."
that is alhaitham's way of saying yes; well, granted that you can somewhat answer the question, anyway.
"—and don't you even think about using google," he adds. darn it, looks like you're not gonna get that kiss.
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☆ KAVEH!
boyfie!kaveh who just feels his chest fluttering, his stomach exploding butterflies, his legs weakening every time you call him "your boyfriend". (he is the biggest simp for you, naturally.)
"kav, you're so old-fashioned for liking that type of sappy stuff," you stifle a laugh behind your hand. kaveh feigns a dramatic gasp, "ah! old-fashioned? i am not." he speaks again, but with a sulky hint to his tone this time, "being called yours and calling you mine are not sappy, is it not the truth?"
okay, he looks proud for saying that.
"flatterer," you roll your eyes. but then, you grin wide as you add, "my flatterer."
and only by doing that, kaveh swears you just shot an arrow through his heart. oh my gosh, you're so unfair, but you're also so cute that he wants to kiss you and smother you and— ahem, moving on.
boyfie!kaveh who always tells you that you're his only last thread of sanity whenever he deals with alhaitham.
"can you believe it?! that was what he said to me, word for word, verbatim! that jerk, i'll hide his work phone where he can't ever find it."
"good luck on that. he is about the same height as you, babe."
"[y/n], my love, you were supposed to be on my side!"
(okay, maybe you just wanted to tease him a little but god, that pout on his lips is beautiful.)
boyfie!kaveh who immediately keels over the spot every time you wear his clothes. how you look so adorable, how you smell like him... his one weakness.
"oh. my. days."
standing in the kitchen and that is the first thing you heard. not even a "hello" or a "good morning, love". you turn around, the shirt you stole from your boyfriend's corner in the closet on your figure, with a hand on your hip.
you frown confusedly, "what? what happened?" why, did the toothpaste run out again? you are about to ask until you see kaveh pointing a finger at you like a madman.
"my clothes. you're wearing my clothes," he stammers dramatically. you tilt your head questioningly, "...yes, and?"
"what do you mean, and? c'mere—"
boyfie!kaveh who kisses your hand as a greeting, as a habit, and as a hobby. he denies it but he really is into that old-fashioned thingy, huh?
"that tickles," you giggle when kaveh's lips brush against your knuckles. "a fitting greeting for my beloved, of course," he plants another exaggerated kiss on the back of your hand.
"if you like my hand so much, you might as well put a ring on it, then."
"wha— wait, did you just— did you just beat me to it? are you proposing to me?!"
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☆ KUNIKUZUSHI!
boyfie!kunikuzushi who always gets blushy-angry whenever you compliment him for literally anything.
you already know that your boyfriend is a man of many talents, if only he were willing to show them more often. this time, though; you somehow manage to persuade him into being the cook for tonight. don't ask how, you have your ways.
you bring a spoonful of food to your mouth, "mm, kuni, this actually tastes pretty good!"
you hear a gasp, an offended one.
"what do you mean, actually? of course, it'd taste good," he shoots you a glare, holding back an insulted snarl in the back of his throat.
"pfft, okay, okay. you should cook more, embrace your malewife side."
"my what— i will throw this plate at you."
yep, totally worth it.
boyfie!kunikuzushi who suffers because kids love flocking around him. he can't believe he is doing this, but he has no choice but to send you a desperate look that says "help".
this sight in front of you right now is far beyond priceless. seeing your grumpy lover being surrounded by enthusiastic children tugging on his sleeve is too good, too good.
you wonder what exactly attracted them to him? he isn't really someone who looks welcoming — but eitherway, you are enjoying this.
way more than you should, actually.
"d'aww, kuni, the kids love you!"
"...i wanna go home," he deadpans at you lifelessly while the children continue to jump around him.
boyfie!kunikuzushi who snorts when you accidentally hurt yourself but he still cares, at least. (he finds amusement in your clumsiness, one hundred percent.)
"so, i wasn't paying attention and walked into a glass door today—"
"pfft."
"...did you just laugh at my pain?"
"no. anyway, let me see the bruise. put some ice on it."
(at least, he cares.)
boyfie!kunikuzushi who grumbles every time you give him affection like an automated puppet (pun intended).
"ugh, stop doing that," kunikuzushi mumbles through gritted teeth; but not in a hostile way, he looks more... grouchy than anything. as per usual, of course.
you're merely holding his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, he looks annoyed. but the funny thing is that he is barely resisting your affection at all.
you poke at him jokingly, "what? i'm just squeezing your hand. not like i was trying to squeeze the life out of you."
"it's annoying..." he scoffs before trailing off into a quieter voice, "do it again."
(is this what they call hypocrisy at its best?)
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @dearmarri @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]
© SEELESTIA, nov 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.
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kararisa · 8 months
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darling, starling ✧
pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader
genre: social media au, modern/celebrity au, friends to lovers, fake dating
summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?
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side ships: venti x xiao; thoma x ayato
warnings: swearing, crack, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, yn wears makeup sometimes, depictions of online hate; specific chapter warnings will be listed at the beginning of each chapter — will be updated as the series continues
status: ongoing
author's notes:
did some minor reworking so if you've seen this for the second time, you're not hallucinating dw
yes this is my second smau. yes I still don't know what I'm doing haha. timestamps don't matter unless I say they do
apologies in advance if i miss any grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language ^^
written chapters are marked with (★)
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pre-concert party !!
0.1 - lost hearts • 0.2 - welcome back, shithead
profiles:
clown central™ ([name]'s friends)
the waffle house (scara's friends)
1st verse — for future reference || playlist
1 - is this real? • 2 - enjoying yourself: a guide
3 - bitchless since birth • 4 - attention
5 - unwritten rules (★) • 6 - we're doing couple things
7 - safe with my indifference • 8 - when's the wedding
9 - iridescence (★) • 10 - worst date ever
11 - then beg • 12 - a little bit scandalous (★)
13 - not too late • 14 - only here for you
15 - i can fight • 16 - wine-stained lips (★)
2nd verse — where words fail, music speaks || playlist
17 - it's so joever • 18 - famefucker
19 - i miss my parents • 20 - none of your business
21 - child of divorce • 22 - don't text and drive
23 - neon escape (★) • 24 - this can't be real
tba
3rd verse — hate to be lame || playlist
tba
encore !!
tba
— the taglist is currently open! if you’d like to be added feel free to reply or send in an ask! – if your blog isn’t highlighted it means i can’t tag you.
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dittodon · 10 months
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#﹒softboy scara
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"I wanna chat all night, talk about everything about my day" — serenade by BOYNEXTDOOR
summary﹕just softboy bf scaramouche and his smau includes﹕ wanderer!scaramouche tags﹕super fluff﹐modern au﹐smau﹐female!reader﹐ooc﹐established relationship
notes﹕tryna get my motivation up, this is not a sign that I'll update my smau- a lot of content, its softboy scara cmon, lemme know who i should do next!
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© 2023 dittodon pictures are not mine, please upload with credit
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zeraaachan · 1 year
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hypothetically
if i died hypothetically… what will you do?
summary: in which the reader asked them a hypothetical question and they curse the day it becomes reality. alternatively, how the genshin! characters react to reader's death
content warning(s): major character death, angst/ no comfort
character(s): scaramouche, xiao, venti
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modern au! scaramouche
"babe, hypothetically speaking…"
scaramouche's head adorned by his crown of violet hair lays on their lap, his dark locks being gently combed by their nimble fingers. he hummed and closed his eyes to urge them to continue.
"if I die hypothetically--"
"no."
"babe, i haven't finished yet."
"no."
"no, like seriously," they said with a chuckle. scaramouche's eyes are now already wide open, glaring at them with obvious hate for the topic. yet the sharpness of his gaze is a sharp contrast to the way he currently holds their hand: soft yet firm, as if even the reaper is not allowed to take them from him. "if I die hypothetically what will you do?"
"no."
"what do you mean no?"
"no."
"babe…"
"no."
"scara, love…"
"no."
"no."
"no."
"no."
"no."
"no."
"no!" scaramouche's breath hitched as the only word that escaped his constricted throat is a mere one syllable word. he repeated the short word with another despaired cry. an anguished wail as the two cones of ice cream on his hands fell to the ground, completely forgotten and melted at the mercy of the hot pavement. "no…" another horrified murmur escaped his lips as he take in the sight before him. he can not even hear anything except for the sound of panic and cries to call the ambulance. "no, no, no…"
scara, felt himself shut the world, as the very person that stabilize him to the ground is in front of him… immobile. they sleep on the pavement of the road as a thick, warm red blankets their body. their eyes didn't even met his. it's inanimate, gone… just like as how the rest of the words that the cunning boy once knew became replaced by one word that fully express his grief. all that was left for him was to say, "no…" in pure guilt, in agony.
no, no, no, no… he screams and tear himself in his head as he blame his stupid self for everything. his hands found its way on his dark hair as he cries in pure pain. no, please, no… no… he bemoans, tears continuously falling from his eyes, the same thing he despised yet he now hated even more. no, no, no… what if he just stayed with them instead? what if he didn't stepped away for a moment and bought ice creams for the two of them? then maybe he'll still be holding a warm hand and not a cold and bloody one. no. oh no… no, no…please no. if only he was with them… if only he was there when someone accidentally pushed them… if only the car didn't hit them… "no…no…"
as scaramouche, the ever prideful, kneels on the harsh pavement with both of his knees… as the red started to seep into his entirety, he remembered the words they hypothetically asked that day. in which he answered 'no', repeatedly, it's a 'no'.
how ironic that when the hypothetical question became a reality and his only response truly became… 'no'.
                        modern au! xiao
"babe, hypothetically, if i die,"
a sharp hiss escaped xiao's throat as soon as he heard those words slip past their lips. the mere thought is blasphemy for him, an unimaginable imagine that he'd rather not have. and that's why he can not blame his eyes for narrowing in alertness and unsettlement as he waited for them to continue.
"what will you do?"
the edge to his gaze didn't lessen nor dull. solid amber remains cold, rigid, as the thought freeze each blood cell in his body and cold fear gripped his being. his gaze remained hard on them, unreadable of the muddled thoughts that run in a frenzy in xiao's head.
"i…" he started, trying to makes his voice softer. he racked his mind to find the right words to give them but in the end, what his tongue presented to them was his honest, straightforward answer. "i will never let that happen." he stated, full of conviction, more to himself than them. it is a vow that he etched to the very fiber of his heart's muscle and there it'll stay 'til his heart beats. "just call my name if you're in danger, call my name whenever you need me… i'll always answer your call."
a static noise suddenly filled his ears. it blurred his memory and drowned his reminiscing.
twenty missed calls and one that he actually received. the first twenty are from them, the last call was from a hospital. all that registered to xiao alatus' muddled brain are a few words from the call: heavy injuries, we did our best, and… their name.
he promised them immediate answers. he swore to them an instant response. he vowed to them his presence with their every beckon and call. he made an oath, to be there whenever they need, to be by their side whenever they were in danger… to answer whenever they called.
and the one time xiao alatus didn't answered… the one time he failed to check his phone… the one and first time he dismissively said that everything was fine… was the last time they'll call.
ah, xiao is too stupid. a fool. a whole fucking circus! and the weight of the joke fell heavy on his shoulder, made him drop on the morgue's floor, and laughed as he sing the hymn of bereavement. stupid! how can he easily make a vow and eat his own words? how can he swear to protect them and be nowhere near when they indeed need him? how can he not take their call…? when now he realized how every call of theirs matters…that each time they call him, his name, is the number of times that he actually lives.
how can he let it happen?
the one call xiao failed to answer… is the one he should have.
                     venti
"hypothetically,"
they started as venti serenade them with his lyre. his ears strain to hear the melody of their voice above his strumming of musical instrument and the lyrics that he sings with pure affection. he listens intently to their next words, just as how he listen to the rhythm of the wind.
"what will you do if I die?"
it made the harmony pause. the orchestra experienced a hiccup in their synchrony as the silence became its new conductor. venti's fingers hovered over the strings of his instrument, his gaze now fully trained on them as a mixture of horror, shock, and fear, play like the wind in his green eyes.
"windblume, what made you say that? are you in any sort of danger?" the bard asked in evident distress and their dismissive shrug did nothing to soothe his worries. it terrified him. yet when they urged him to answer, venti sighed in surrender. his mouth that sings the most beautiful and sweetest verses voiced his mind. it made his tongue, expert with the taste of wine yet is never a liar, let a devoted oath fall from the archon’s lips. "if you die… i'll sleep… and choose to never wake up."
"venti!"
"but that won't ever happen, windblume. as long as i am one with the wind, you are cherished, loved, and protected." he vowed, a tone of sincerity in the bard's beautiful voice that made its sweetest song when he swore to them. "there's no place that the wind doesn't reach."
oh, but there is a place where the wind can't reach.
and they fell to it, drowned in it. without the wind, the turbulence took them and took their whole being away from the anemo archon. they spiraled downwards, down to the deepest depths, pulled to the deepest place… at the end of death's tornado. and he wasn't there to save them. the wind can not reach them… he can not reach them. until all of the air in their lungs was gone… and not a single arm of wind reached them.
they escaped the wind's grasp and turned to death's clutch.
ah, venti, barbatos, forgot how to cry. he should have been used to this. he should have prepared for this. he lost one too many already… and it seems that everyone he cherish can not be protected by the wind, by him. anemo must be a hateful element and death is a more enticing option. since how can everyone leave him? always alone with the wind.
ah… venti, the bard, feels tired. the words he swore to them that day rang in his ears. he can still hear their voice, their sweet music that sings with the wind… and he can still hear his promise to them that day.
just as promised, venti, barbatos the archon, went to a deep slumber… to another place that the wind doesn't reach. 
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