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scarafvcker · 10 months

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CAN I REQUEST HUMAN AFAB READER LOSSING IT TO SCARA? I NEED MORE AUS WERE WE LOSE OUR VIRGINITY TO THAT PRETTY MAN

synopsis: scaramouche lets you stare at his pretty self (i.e. he’s making you look into his eyes while he fucks you lol)

cws: virginity loss, exhibitionism, choking (done properly!! pls learn how to choke ppl if y’all are gonna do that), degradation, mean scara, cumshot, no aftercare, afab!reader

word count: 1300+

a/n: this one’s for you anon :) enjoy~

scaramouche knew he was attractive. he was made to be perfect—carved from a white tree by the electro archon herself. he was aware of all the stares he would get and he never really cared for anyone who gazed at him for longer than necessary, never even sparing them a glance.. but you however..

you’re supposed to be helping him on a mission right now. you’re supposed to be staring up at the false skies of teyvat. you’re not supposed to be staring at him. you’re not supposed to be making his shorts get uncomfortably tight. you’re just his underling, just some fatui soldier on his squad. you’re just a human, just a weak human who should be grateful to even breathe the same air as him—let alone, stare at him.

so how did he end up in this position—hovering above you as you lay on a blanket spread out onto the grass, one hand above your head to hold himself up while the other was plunging in and out of your cunt? it all happened so quickly—from stares to glares, hisses to kisses. he had just wanted to put you in your place and this certainly wasn’t the way he intended this to go but who is he to complain when he’s got you shivering at every little touch? you, the oh so strong soldier on his squad. you, the annoying human who shamelessly stares at him everyday.

his indigo eyes are gazing into yours with a dangerous glint and his lips are turned up into a sadistic smirk. he looks fucking beautiful like this—hovering over you while his long and slender fingers graze over every inch of your ridged walls. he’s spent over an hour stretching your virgin hole with just his fingers and each plunge draws out an obscene squelch that you’re sure your fellow soldiers could hear from inside their tents.

it’s glaringly obvious that he doesn’t care about whether or not people could hear or see you getting finger-fucked by your harbinger. he keeps pushing his digits around your walls, occasionally prodding at that squishy spot that has you biting back a moan. each time he grazed over that spot, your hole drenches his fingers more and more, practically drowning his hand in your lewd juices. his smirk grows wider when he decides he’s had enough fun, shoving his fingers as deep as they can go before curling them against that spot repeatedly.

his pace was rapid, the tips of his digits abusing that spot with no mercy. he reveled in the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the way your warm walls twitched around his fingers, the way you couldn’t hold back your sounds, the way your breathy gasps turned into broken moans. he had your body shaking, had you falling apart on just his fingers for the first time tonight, had you failing to hold back your desperate pleas. he slipped his fingers out of you, popping them into his mouth as he tasted your slick. his eyes were still on you, waiting for you to look back and him and when you finally did, he took his fingers out of his mouth with an obscene pop! “didn’t i tell you to keep your eyes on me?” his voice was as smooth as ever and you didn’t miss his threatening tone. he clicked his tongue, using your shirt that was bunched up over your chest to wipe his saliva off of his hand as he sat up on his knees and pulled down his shorts, “those eyes better stay on mine this time.”

you could only catch a glimpse of his cock before he sheathes it into you slowly. his eyes were darting between yours and the place where he was connected to you, making sure you kept eye contact as he watched the way his pretty, pink tip disappeared into your tight hole. he groaned at the squeeze and kept pushing in while his hands flew to the blanket above your head. he want back to staring into your eyes as he slowly filled your virgin cunt, “feel that? feel your harbinger stretching out your pussy? hah.. what a slut you are.”

he gave you barely any time to adjust to his intrusion, slowly pulling his hips back a tiny bit before pushing forward again. the sounds of his hips meeting yours harmonized with the squelch of him fucking his cock into you. he slid his left hand up the blanket, bringing his forearm to rest flush against the ground while his right hand gripped at your jaw harshly. his breath began to tickle your face as he picked up his speed, unblinking eyes staying locked onto yours as he pulled out to the tip before slamming back in with a well aimed thrust of his cock to your a-spot.

you were getting wetter and wetter with each thrust, the friction and each slam of his cock to your a-spot worked together to provide enough of your slick to make the painful stretch a little more bearable. you couldn’t hold your voice back, letting out loud moan after moan as he continued to fuck himself deep inside you. god, this was much rougher than you expected for your first time but with the way he’s glaring down at you while his lips curl into a smirk, all your complaints disappeared—perhaps out of fear or arousal.. or both.

you wrapped your legs around his hips, hands dipping into his silky lock and heels digging into his lower back. eyes trained onto each other as the two of you let indecent sounds reverberate through the silence of the forest, for sure to wake the soldiers sleeping only a few feet away. his hand slides down your jaw to your neck, fingers pressing into the sides to cut off just enough air to get your head all fuzzy while he keeps pounding into you roughly. you’re seeing stars and not just the ones in the sky, your eyes can barely focus on him but you swear his smirk is getting bigger and bigger with each passing second and the tone he speaks with only confirms it, “quiet, slut. you’re gonna wake up the entirety of teyvat.”

ever that sadist he is, he only pounds into you with fervor—slamming his tip into that squishy spot at an inhuman pace just to draw out as many of your sounds as he can. “fuck, listen to your slutty pussy begging to be filled up.. you want that, huh?” he lets out a deep chuckle when you nod your head frantically, only able to let out a slurred ‘uh-huh! uh-huh!’ he starts to fuck you even deeper, his tip hitting your cervix at an inhuman speed, “such a fucking whore. go ahead and cum on my cock, then i might give you want you want.”

his words make the knot in your stomach snap, bringing your body to a shaking orgasm that only intensifies with each thrust he keeps giving you. despite your best efforts, your eyes are rolling into the back of your head once again and through your high, you can hear him click his tongue before releasing his hold on your neck. he pulls himself out of your twitching hole, pumping his cock above your cunt as you look up at him through teary eyes, “i told you to keep your eyes on me. stupid slut can’t even listen to a simple order.”

he clicks his tongue once more before you feel the warmth of his cum splattering onto your abused pussy and just as quick at it happened, it’s gone. he tucks himself back into his shorts, standing up and wiping the sweat off his forehead before walking away. he doesn’t even spare you a glance, leaving you shaking on that blanket with his cum dripping down your cunt. “if you want it so bad, go ahead and fuck it into yourself,” he snickers as he heads into his own tent.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin scara #genshin impact scara #scara x reader #scara smut

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garoujo · 7 months

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✩ ˛˚ . CHILDE | TARTAGLIA — you hope that childe knows you’ll always wait up for him.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, you refer to him as ‘ajax’, brief f!receiving oral, you join him in the shower, v minor mention of blood / injuries. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii me again ,, back with some genshin since i’m getting back into the game wooo <3

it’s late when you hear the door to your home close, softly albeit not completely silent, followed by a few footsteps down the hallway. it’d been days, without a word— but that was the norm that came with dating a harbinger, you’d accepted it because atleast hes home.

the realisation pulls you out of bed despite the late hour, the house is still in darkness as you push yourself out of your bedroom but you can see the bathroom light at the end of the hallway— followed by the soft running of the water moments later.

your steps are careful despite the fact your presence isn’t a secret, he probably expects you still to be asleep— how do you tell him you’ve been awake waiting? hoping.

your eyes still flinch as you finally push through the doorway into your bathroom, hissing slightly before you’re immediately reaching to pull your shirt over your head. the air in the room is already sticky, slightly fogged with the high temperature he always enjoyed his showers at.

any other person would assume he hadn’t noticed you yet, but you know his senses are sharper than that.

“i was just about to wash up, care to join?” childe’s voice eventually sounds just as you finish peeling back the rest of your remaining clothes. there’s a teasing lull to his voice, as light hearted as he always is despite the way he looks.

his skin is wet from the water but you can still make out the remnants of the crimson liquid that washes down the drain as he stands underneath the pressure. his toned abdomen is bruised, his hair disheveled but you still think he looks pretty relaxed despite the way you’re sure he shook with adrenaline only a few hours ago. he was in his element after all.

“didn’t think i’d wake you.” childe speaks again, drawing you in as his arm outstretches and you don’t hesitate to place your hand in his own as he leads you into him. you hiss slightly at the warm spray before you get used to it, it only helping you melt into the hug of his rough hands as you brush your fingers across his chest.

“i wasn’t asleep.” you admit and he chuckles lowly, but it comes out as more of an exhale despite the way he still grins at you. his fingers rest underneath your chin before he tilts you up to look at him, letting you see the dark circles that seem to have formed underneath his eyes since you last seen him.

“oh? awake worrying about me?” childe’s auburn hair falls over his gaze slightly as he tilts his head at you, cheeky grin in place as you attempt to swat lightly at his chest. but he’s still so fast to take your hand in his, placing a kiss to your fingertips a few moments later as he bites back his grin.

“i’m surprised you still have the energy to stand nevermind joke, ajax.” you decide to settle for that as you send him a pout despite the way his ‘joke’ was more of a fact. but he likes the way his name sounds on your lips, so he chuckles again before he’s leaning into kiss you once on the lips, then the next on your cheek before he pulls back to roll his shoulders.

“oh well i’m full of surprises. you can’t take me down that easily.” childe goads, smugly as he leans in again — occupying himself with chasing the droplets of water along your skin with his lips, tongue swiping lightly over a few as he makes his way across your jawline, then down your throat after that.

“plus, who else would amuse you if i was gone?” his words are lower this time, muffled against your skin as the dull vibration sparks at your nerves— making you shudder as he travels lower, urging you to tangle your fingers in his hair. you know he’d never let anyone else anywhere near you. you melt so quickly, into the hug of his hands and the press of his lips, feeling him palm and kiss between your breasts, stomach, hips.

you gasp when childe moves you suddenly, just enough to have your back pressing against the damp shower wall — helping to support you as he lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder. “anyway, i really worked up quite an appetite.” he grunts, smirks as he sends you a lidded, wild look that makes something burn in your abdomen — travelling lower when he nuzzles himself between your thighs.

“ajax! you just got home, you need to rest,” you try, but you give into him so easily when he’s like this — wasting no time in pushing his lips between your slick folds, easing you open as he laps greedily at your clit. it feels like it’s been so long, he’s drinking you up like you’re his first drop of water in months and you can barely breathe with the way he works you.

he flattens his tongue against you before he curls it around the entrance to your pussy, groaning as he presses through your folds to slurp at the slick that’s gathered there — swallowing loudly before he’s chuckling once more.

“hey, i still have some energy left. you gonna be the one to tire me out? it’s your turn to amuse me.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you #childe x reader #childe smut #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x you

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tinytinyblogs · 3 months

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A kiss from you would be nice

They successfully achieved their goal of receiving a kiss from you.

(Atz reaction, non-idol)

Hyung line Maknae line

Ateez masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

San

The cafe buzzed with the comforting rhythm of friends catching up, laughter blending with the clinking of coffee mugs. But for San, the melody had gone jarringly off-key. His eyes, normally as warm as melted chocolate, had narrowed to laser focus, locked on you and your friend. Each overly friendly touch, each burst of shared laughter felt like a tiny pebble chipping away at a dam of unspoken emotions within him. It was an itch he couldn't scratch, an unease that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He recognized it only too well – the harbinger of a storm brewing inside him, a storm named 'you.' He couldn't just sit there, a silent witness to the scene unfolding before him. The dam was about to burst. With a determined glint in his eyes, San rose from his seat, his steps echoing a quiet resolve. He walked towards you, hand outstretched, fingers tingling with anticipation. You turned, surprised by his abrupt move, the question "San, what's wrong?" already forming on your lips. It was the same question echoing in his mind, a mantra he couldn't escape. Reaching you, he gently captured your hand, fingers brushing your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. He pulled you, ever so slightly, away from the conversation, guiding you like a precious artifact towards a quieter corner of the cafe. You followed, his touch a silent tether drawing you in, your own heart mirroring the frantic rhythm of his. Stopping under the soft glow of a hanging lamp, he turned to face you, his hand still holding yours, a connection that crackled with unspoken intensity.

The world seemed to shrink, the background noise fading into a distant hum. His gaze, usually playful and carefree, was now serious, searching your eyes for answers he couldn't find within himself. "That's what I'm trying to figure out too," he confessed, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. He paused, searching for the right words, for a way to articulate the tangled mess of emotions swirling within him. The confusion was evident in his eyes, a storm on the horizon reflected in their depths. The silence stretched after his confession, pregnant with unspoken emotions and the echo of your surprised question. His confusion mirrored yours, a storm swirling in the depths of his eyes. Then, with a deep breath, he took a step closer, the space between you crackling with newfound urgency. His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your jawline, a hesitant caress that sent shivers down your spine. You held your breath, the world narrowing to the warmth of his palm and the intensity of his gaze. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he tilted your chin up, pulling you closer. Then, before you could fully comprehend, his lips met yours. It was a kiss unlike any other you'd known, tentative at first, a whisper against your skin, then deepening into a consuming fire. You were both caught off guard, frozen in place as the dam of unspoken desires finally burst. He pulled away after a breath, a dazed expression replacing the confusion that had clouded his eyes. It was a look of revelation, a sudden understanding that seemed to dawn on him with the force of a lightning strike.

"Right," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. "I know why it's always felt weird when you're around." His words, softly spoken, hung heavy in the air, their meaning sinking in like a stone dropped into a still pond. "It's because I want you," he confessed, his finger trailing a delicate path down your flushed cheek. "Not just the way everyone else seems to. I want you for myself, completely and utterly." The heat of his touch lingered on your skin, his addicting cologne filling your senses. His heartbeat, amplified by the closeness, sounded like a thunderous drum against your ear, mirroring the frantic rhythm of your own. In that single, stolen moment, the confusion melted away, replaced by a breathtaking clarity. You'd always wondered why his presence sparked something within you, why his gaze lingered a touch too long, why every shared laugh tasted like forbidden fruit. Then, his hand cupped your cheek, drawing you closer until your forehead rested against his chest. His heartbeat, a frantic drum against your ear, mirrored the tremor in your own soul. "I hate it," he murmured, his voice a rough caress against your skin. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he pulled you even tighter, burying your face in the depths of his embrace. You could taste the salt of his skin, the faint tang of desperation. "I hate the way you laugh with someone else," he growled, his words punctuated by the rapid thud of his heart. "The way your smile blossoms for another guy, it feels like a shard in my gut." His voice, raw and aching, sent shivers down your spine. "I want you to be mine," he confessed, his breath hot against your cheek.

Mingi

The air felt electric, a current crackle running between you and Mingi like an unresolved melody. The world blurred around you, sunny streets and bustling crowds fading into a haze as his presence filled your senses. His gaze lingered on you longer than expected, his touch lingering a moment too long on your arm, igniting sparks that dance just below the surface. This ambiguity had become your dance, a frustratingly beautiful waltz around unconfessed feelings. Mingi treated you like a cherished object, like you held a place in his life beyond the realm of ordinary friendship. He surprised you with your favorite ice cream before you could even voice the craving, his smile melting your walls faster than the summer sun. Yet, a chilling fear lurked in your heart, a serpent coiling around your hope. The thought of losing his friendship, the foundation of your world, was a terror so potent it kept your lips sealed. You hung suspended, trapped between yearning and apprehension, a silent war raging within you. Suddenly, his voice, an anchor to reality, cut through your reverie. "Your ice cream is gonna melt if you keep staring at it like that," he teased, shoving the sweet treat playfully into your mouth. His eyes, however, mirrored your turmoil, a flicker of unspoken curiosity. "What's on your mind?" You could only offer a noncommittal hum, the words tangled in your throat like knots in a fishing line. "Come on, spill the tea," he nudged you playfully, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your heart pounded a frantic rhythm against your ribs, a drumbeat to the silent dance you both performed.

And then, like a dam breaking, the words gushed out, defying your better judgment. "About us," you breathed, the breath hot against your lips, a confession ripped from your soul. It hung in the air, heavy and fragile, a bridge built of hope and fear, waiting to be crossed. Silence, thick and heavy, suffocated the space between you and Mingi. Your breath, released in a shaky gust, seemed to echo in the quiet, a stark punctuation mark against the backdrop of unspoken anxieties. "What exactly are we?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. The question tumbled out, laden with all the unspoken longing and frustration that had festered within you for far too long. Each word crackled with the voltage of your yearning, the sparks illuminating the worst-case scenarios painting themselves across your mind. You braced yourself for Mingi's answer, both dreading and desiring the clarity it might bring. The seconds stretched, each a miniature eternity filled with the frantic hammering of your heart. You imagined turning away, fleeing the unbearable tension, escaping back into the familiar comfort of ambiguity. But as you took a tentative step back, your hand grazed Mingi's. His fingers, warm and strong, closed around yours, anchoring you in place. His gaze met yours, his eyes a storm of emotions mirroring your own. He held your hand, not a casual brush but a deliberate clasp, the unspoken promise of understanding pulsing through his touch. His silence, initially unsettling, blossomed into a quiet strength, a space for honesty to bloom.

"Right," he murmured, his voice soft yet carrying the weight of months of unspoken affection. "What exactly are we?" His eyes searched yours, seeking the answer you yourself struggled to articulate. "We fit together, you and I," he continued, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "It's like a puzzle, every piece slotting perfectly into place. And," he paused, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I haven't felt this comfortable, this… connected, with anyone else." His words hung in the air, a confession disguised as a simple statement. The warmth from his touch radiated through you, melting away the ice of your fears. You felt the unspoken question hovering between you, "Is it the same for you?" The melting ice cream dribbled down your hand, forgotten on the warm pavement. Your gaze, like molten gold, collided with Mingi's, his irises swirling with a storm of unspoken emotions. He searched your face, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your cheek like he was memorizing the map of your soul. "I..." he whispered, the syllable heavy with anticipation. He seemed to be grappling with the weight of a thousand unsaid things, each one jostling for dominance on his tongue. Each breath stretched into an eternity, the silence pregnant with possibilities. Then, his husky whisper broke the spell, each word weighted with a longing that mirrored your own. "I want us to be more than what we are now," he admitted, his voice rough with vulnerability. His eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions, searched yours for understanding, for hope. The confession, once unspoken and a source of unspoken torment, hung in the air between you, raw and real.

Wooyoung

The cursor on your laptop screen blinked incessantly, a mocking reminder of the work left undone. But the rhythmic beeping couldn't penetrate the fog of distraction swirling in your head. Every rustle of paper, every sigh from your best friend Wooyoung, was a siren song pulling you away from the digital world. Finally, with an exasperated groan, you slammed the laptop shut. Wooyoung, who had been whining like a puppy at your elbow, immediately perked up, his playful eyes glinting with mischief. He nudged the laptop aside, making space for himself on the couch, and settled in with a comfortable plop. "What do you really want, Wooyoung?" you asked, running a hand through your messy hair. You knew that wheedling tone, the one he reserved for when he needed something big. "I told you, I just need a little help," he said, his voice dripping with faux innocence. You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Explain it to me." you challenged, watching a smile slowly creep across his face. He leaned closer, his hands hovering near your shoulders. "Is it a yes?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. You narrowed your eyes, waiting for the punchline. "Hurry up before I change my mind and kick you out," you threatened, playfully shoving him. Wooyoung, unfazed, simply nodded and leaned even closer. His next move caught you completely off guard. He closed the distance between you in a swift rush, his lips meeting yours in a sudden, electrifying kiss. The world tilted on its axis. Your brain, previously occupied by spreadsheets and deadlines, short-circuited.

The taste of surprise mingled with the sweetness of his lips, sending a jolt of something exhilarating through you. As quickly as it started, the kiss ended, leaving you breathless and bewildered. Wooyoung pulled back, his cheeks flushed, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. "Thank you," he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. The space between you was a canvas splashed with unspoken questions, the air thick with the lingering sweetness of the kiss. Your bodies remained impossibly close, Wooyoung's warmth radiating against your skin, his breath a soft flutter against your cheek. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now pools of unadulterated sincerity, holding yours captive. "What was that?" you whispered, the question bursting from your lips like a dam breaking. The words echoed strangely in the quiet room, amplified by the insistent ticking of the clock – a metronome to the beat of your racing hearts. Wooyoung's hand found yours, a grounding touch amidst the swirling vortex of emotions. His thumb traced circles on your skin, a comforting counterpoint to the butterflies erupting in your stomach. "I... I wanted to make sure I'm not going insane," he admitted, his voice a husky whisper, softer than you'd ever heard it. "To keep confusing myself, thinking... Maybe I was imagining it. But then I saw you," he added, his gaze searching yours, "and there it was again, clear as day. This feeling." He paused, the weight of his unspoken words heavy in the air. You held your breath, waiting, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

"I fall for you, Y/N," he finally breathed, the words landing on your heart like soft snowflakes. "And judging by the way your heart's threatening to jackhammer out of your chest," he chuckled, a hint of his usual playful self peeking through, "I'd say the kiss was a yes." His confession, raw and vulnerable, hung in the air between you, a bridge of honesty built over months of unspoken yearning. The clock, once a backdrop of mundane routine, now seemed to celebrate each tick, each second marking the beginning of something precious, something new. You spun away, the memory of his lips still sizzling against yours. Your cheeks burned like they held secrets whispering to burst out, and you desperately needed a moment, any moment, to gather your scattered thoughts. But Wooyoung wouldn't let you escape. His strong, gentle hand cupped your chin, turning your face back towards him. His eyes, normally sparkling with playful mischief, now held a depth that made your breath hitch. "Friends don't kiss like that," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The unspoken question hung in the air between you, thick and heavy, an electric current crackling with unvoiced desires and hopes. His words, simple yet profound, shattered the dam holding back your own emotions. A smile, unsure at first, then blossoming into a radiant sun, spread across your face. "So... this means we're a couple now, right?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, yet laced with a thrill that danced in your eyes.

Jongho

The scent of lavender oil and simmering truffle filled the air as you and Jongho sat across from each other, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. His hand, calloused yet gentle, enveloped yours, sending a current of warmth and unspoken affection that radiated through you. You'd watched him adjust his tie nervously throughout the evening, a rare glimpse into the vulnerability beneath his confident exterior. Jongho had always made you feel special, like the sun and moon revolved around your relationship. He never missed a birthday, anniversary, or a chance to surprise you with his quiet, thoughtful gestures. And tonight, amidst the clinking of silverware and soft murmur of the restaurant, you had a tingling premonition that something momentous was about to unfold. He cleared his throat, his voice husky with a tremor of emotion. "I used to worry a lot about the future," he began, his words unfolding like the petals of a delicate flower. "What career I should pursue, what kind of life I wanted to build... Then you walked into my life, and all my anxieties faded away. With you, everything became clearer, brighter. You brought joy I never knew existed, laughter that echoed through my soul." His gaze, usually brimming with playful mischief, now held a depth that mirrored the ocean under a starlit sky. He spoke of love like a poet composing a masterpiece, each word an exquisitely crafted brushstroke painting a vivid picture of his devotion.

The flickering candlelight danced in your eyes, threatening to spill over into tears of joy. The fancy restaurant, usually a backdrop for fleeting pleasures, transformed into a stage for this intimate symphony of love. Jongho, in his crisp suit and nervous smile, was the most breathtaking portrait you'd ever witnessed. "And now, I have another dream," he continued, his fingers tracing circles on yours. "A dream of building a family with you, of growing old with laughter lines etched around our eyes and stories whispered to our grandchildren. Will you… will you make me the happiest man alive and share this dream with me?" A single, silent nod. Words seemed to have deserted you, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions his confession unleashed. Yet, your eyes spoke volumes, brimming with an unspoken 'yes' that shimmered brighter than any diamond. A tender smile bloomed on your lips, a beacon of happiness mirroring the relief washing over him. He saw his answer reflected in your radiant face, his heart soaring like a kite on a summer breeze. Without a word, he leaned closer, drawn by an invisible tether of yearning. As his lips met yours, the world around you muted, the symphony of the restaurant replaced by the soft melody of two souls intertwining. This kiss, born from the embers of unspoken promises and shared dreams, tasted different. It was sweeter, yes, but also deeper, infused with the intoxicating elixir of certainty. It was a kiss that resonated in your very core, a whispered prophecy of forever etched in the space between your breaths.

In that moment, suspended in time and bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, you understood. This wasn't just a kiss; it was a vow, a silent declaration of a love that defied definition. It was the first brushstroke on the canvas of your future, a masterpiece waiting to be painted together, hand in hand, heart to heart. Minutes seemed to stretch into eternities, suspended in the weight of his lips on yours. The taste of him, familiar yet somehow new, filled you with a joy so radiant it threatened to spill over in laughter. Stepping into the future with him, hand in hand, felt like dancing on sunbeams, a light-hearted confidence buoying your every step. He pulled back, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. "Finally," he breathed, the whisper carrying the echo of countless unspoken moments. "Finally, I kiss you again. I was so nervous, you know? Every time I imagined it, it reminded me... it reminded me I should propose." His words, laced with self-deprecating humor, were music to your ears. A warm chuckle bubbled up from your chest, echoing his own. The tension, sweet and electric, dissolved into shared amusement, a testament to the comfortable ease that flowed between you. "You should have seen yourself," you teased, nudging him playfully. "Your tie was practically choking you." He feigned offense, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It was the pressure! Knowing I was about to ask the most important question of my life."

©Tinytinyblogs

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lovesickeros · 4 months

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☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

#genshin impact #genshin impact yandere #genshin yandere #neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #furina x reader #yandere furina #yandere furina x reader #fic tag #pats neuvillette this noodle dragon can be so pathetic #aiming for pathetic desperate and slightly guilty. it gnaws at him knowing he's keeping you like a bird in a cage #esp if you react extremely negatively hes like a kicked puppy #not outwardly but internally hes a MESS. sobbing crying wailing #furina and neuvi sopping wet kittens u found in a cardboard box in an alley #vs arle thinking abt all the crimes shes going 2 commit in the process w/o an ounce of guilt. blackmail? check. kidnapping? check.#a little murder for flavor. as u can see im coping horribly w being practically snowed in rn i need 2 be put down #its like 4 degrees out rn (fahrenheit) and getting colder ueueueue i am dying..........#only thing keeping me going is my furinameow plushie coming. eventually. staying strong just for her.................#also needs 2 be mentioned all the stories r separate ksjfkhdsf #no not everyone in fontaine is yan and trying 2 kidnap sorry for getting ur hopes up..#yet #anyway u cant convince me arle isn't bribing (or just straight up forcing) her agents into doing stupid shit so she can “save” you #and make you owe her #two silly goofy little creatures vs the personification of gaslight gatekeep girlboss (heavy on the gaslight)#also split this up in 3 parts bc. lol. lmao. im not writing 9 characters at once goodbye #also all the masks do actually have significance i have an entire essay on why i gave each animal to specific characters okay

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 4 months

Note

Ooh I have an interesting question for you.

What are the subtle differences between Legacy and Childe? Like, besides the whole abyssal mothman transformation thing lmao. Things that only someone really close to them would notice.

No, no, lemme cook. It could be a difference in body language, it could be a hyper-specific mannerism, it could be a certain preference that contradicts the other side of him – or it could be something else entirely. A preferred manner of nonverbal communication. An emotional attachment to a specific thing. A memory the other side does not recall. A difference in their physical touch, or a different response to affection. Different fears.

Pls idek, I hope you can understand what I mean :')

I'd imagine Legacy relies heavily on instincts, rather than either emotion or logic, but that's as far as I can think, sleepless as I am. Thought you might like the lil prompt? Sort of?

Can this be considered a request?? Hmm... Whatever feels better for you I guess <33

Alr, that's all I think. Love you :DD

oh anon, i adore this. thank you so much

A Study of Mortal and Abyssal Nature

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Fluff, Comfort Warnings: Allusions to fighting and blood, mentions of the ocean

~ * ~ Childe stands tall, back straight with a hand casually on his hip, the epitome of confidence. If there’s a breeze his scarf begins to sway gently; a perfectly picturesque vision both strong and intimidating, as a Harbinger should be. Foul Legacy crouches, doing his best to seem unthreatening and gentle to the people he likes. He hunches in on himself, wanting to embrace, to listen, to comfort- but only for those he favors. Threats are met with snarls and bared fangs, claws sharp as razors and battle prowess honed to a deadly edge.

Childe has a wonderful, boisterous laugh that carries across the room and draws everyone’s eyes towards him. It’s loud and carefree, often done with his eyes closed and body doubled over as he fights to compose himself before finally looking up at you, breathless and grinning with delight. Foul Legacy chitters quietly, like a stream of soft, happy giggles. It’s almost always either from something you said or your reaction to his teasing, a glint of mischief in his crystalline eye, and he laughs until you’re laughing alongside him, before gently nudging his head under your chin with a lighthearted huff.

Childe walks down the streets with you easily, always touching you somehow- an arm around your shoulders, a hand on your waist, his fingers laced with yours. He cheerfully invades your personal space, bumping against you playfully and peppering kisses over your cheeks until you can’t help but push him away with a laugh, but he’ll stop instantly if you seem the slightest bit uncomfortable. Foul Legacy lingers close to you, nearby but not touching until you give him explicit permission, and even then his talons barely graze your skin. He gently bumps his forehead against yours instead, asking for you to scritch behind his horns and leaning into your touch. His head ends up in your lap more often than not, always making sure his kneading claws aren’t tearing your legs before inevitably falling asleep.

Childe loves the snow and all that it represents for him- his loyalty, his home, his strength. He stands firmly in the icy landscape, wrapped in a coat of furs and weaponry and love as he tells you to wait for him, wait for him in the warmth as he ventures into the cold, because he’ll always return just for you. Foul Legacy prefers warmth, having been surrounded by the chill of the Abyss for his whole life. His favorite moments are spent by a gentle fire, holding you close as you both sip hot drinks, and at night he makes sure to tightly curl around you. During the summer he basks in the sun, napping under the bright rays like a cat, only waking up with a sleepy rumble when you carefully shake him.

Childe prefers to hold you, shielding you from the outside world. As someone who was forced to grow up too soon, too quickly, Childe has seen darkness and despair firsthand, and wants nothing more than to protect you from everything cruel. He knows he can’t do it forever, that you’re plenty strong, but he can damn well try. Foul Legacy likes being held, having been deprived of kind touch in the Abyss. Being a native beast from the depths of the world, he was used to a solitary existence, but now he’s fallen in love with your hugs and kisses, burying himself in your arms when he’s feeling particularly lonely. There’s something so comforting about being able to curl against you, feeling you do your utmost to hug him even though he’s so much larger than you, his head against your shoulder and nuzzling against the crook of your neck.

Childe remembers bumping into you on the street, your apology quick and lighthearted. He had been wearing his Harbinger uniform, yet you still talked to him like he was an old friend, and Childe could feel his heart melting at that very instant. The next day he had walked that same path, and the next, and the next, until he finally came across you again with an eager shout. Foul Legacy remembers the first time Childe showed him to you, the way your eyes went wide with amazement. There had been a pause as Legacy crouched down to tentatively sniff you before letting out a delighted chirp- he recognized your scent, your voice, your appearance, from your time with Childe, watching from the back of the Harbinger’s mind. Now you were here, in front of him, and Legacy had quickly nudged his head against your outstretched hand with a purr.

Childe sings music from his home nation- popular songs, old ballads, lullabies his mother had sung for him. His accent comes through when he does, sheepishly laughing when you point it out, but he knows you love it so. He teaches you some of his and learns some of yours, mixing them together into something wholly unique. Foul Legacy’s songs are hauntingly beautiful, like an echoing whale’s call from deep beneath the sea. They’re all wordless tunes, composed entirely of notes and melodies, and he seems utterly overjoyed when you try to mimic them. One day he’ll tell you that his songs are reserved for you alone, the one he loves, but for now he’ll listen to you hum and hum back in return.

Childe tugs on your sleeve when he wants to get your attention, plopping his chin onto your shoulder as his arms wrap around you from behind. When you turn, you can see a silent pout on his lips, clearly telling you that he’s in need of some attention before he becomes restless. Foul Legacy approaches you directly, leaning down and bumping his head against your collarbone before looking at you imploringly. You’ll cup his face, swiping your thumbs over the plated cheeks, and a slow, soft purr rises from Legacy’s chest as he relaxes.

Childe fears the dark. Foul Legacy fears silence.

Childe fights to win. Foul Legacy fights to survive.

Both of them have nightmares. Both of them forcefully temper their hunger for blood with sparring. Both of them bristle at the slightest threat to the ones they care about. Both of them dread the day they’ll have to return to a kingdom of dead stars and corpses.

Both of them watch whatever you’re doing with a mushy, adoring look in their eyes, not saying a word. Both of them pick you up and spin you around in greeting after a long day’s work. Both of them sweep you into surprise dances, holding your hands like you’re a precious treasure. Both of them fall asleep leaning against you, waking up with a fluffy mess of ginger hair and a gentle, dreamy smile.

Both of them love you, unconditionally, now and forever.

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 4 months

Text

Monster from the deep

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Howard Phillips Lovecraft x GN! Reader

Description: Waters of Teyvat become dangerous. Something is destroying ships. Dottore is asked to kill the monster.

Warning: OOC. Mentions of insanity, torture, religious fanaticism, animal death. Dehumanisation (Dottore refers to Reader as 'it'). Lovecraft is soft protective yandere towards Reader. English is my second language.

A/N: , if someone was waiting for full fanfic about Self-Aware! BSD X SAGAU! Imposter crossover, here we are.

______

To: Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore

Lord Harbinger,

I swear on the greatness of All Creator, if situation didn't call for that, I won't write this letter, but, I am afraid, our nations are in a dire situation.

As you must know, another ship was destroyed. Another deal fell through. Liyue will not be able to send a shipment of minerals to Snezhnaya. We lost another ship, cargo and ship's crew.

At least, until we finally have found a survivor.

He was found on a lifeboat near Liyue's shores three weeks after the ship sink. He was dying of hunger and thirst.

And he has gone completely mad.

Sailor was starting in the distance, repeating again and again.

"Ephaiagl ah mglw'nafh. C' ah mglw'nafh."¹

At first, we thought, that he was delusional, that we could save him, if we get him in better shape.

Yet, he refused to eat or drink.

He only stared in the distance. Talking and talking.

He didn't let anyone inside his hospital room.

He became aggressive every time someone tried to peek inside.

He did come out, but, always tried to return to his room as soon as he can.

We forced him to eat and drink, to keep him alive. We gave him every medicine we could think of.

He didn't become better. And he didn't become worse.

And tragedy strikes.

All-loving Creator were visiting the hospital. Their Grace light patients' mood. They felt better, after seeing Their Holiness.

One of the patients, who was staying here with his dog, feel happy for the first time in last days, after seeing All Creator. He dog disappeared, and he was feeling terrible, but, after seeing Their Holiness, they forgot their sorrows.

And All-loving Creator met mad sailor.

For the first time in weeks, he got silent.

He was staring at Creator, unblinking and unmoving.

And he committed a sin.

He dared to attack Their Holiness.

Screaming words in the strange language.

"N'ghftdrn! ah'legeth n'ghftdrn!²"

We killed sinner.

And inside his hospital room, we found a lost dog. What remains of him.

We also found this in his room.

[Photo is attached to letter. The wall of the hospital room is covered in red letters. Words makes no sense, except ones, that are written under the red drawing of an octopus-like monster. "BRING DOTTORE TO HIM"]

Lord Harbinger, It seems, that it's the monster, that destroying ships. We have heard about your victory over Ursa the Drake. Perhaps, you could try to defeat the Sea Monster as well? Liyue will send millelith and our best sailors to assist you. It will take time, because Liyue captains refuse to go to sea, so the expedition will reach Snezhnaya by land.

Wishing for an eternal reign of All Creator.

Ningguang, The Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing

_______

Il Dottore, Second Harbinger, One of the Creator's Personal Physicians, was standing on the deck of the ship. They were in the middle of the sea, moving along the trade route from Snezhnaya to Liyue.

Everything was quiet.

No signs of a monster.

Sailors were doing their job. Fatui and millelith were on observation duty, trying to catch a sign of a monster.

Yet nothing was happening.

Dottore feel anger. The damn creature asked for him, yet, it didn't show up. Cowardly vermin.

Few months ago, after the low-live Imposter disappeared, the strange monster appeared in Teyvat waters. It attacked ships, making any sort of trades not just dangerous, but straight up impossible.

Nothing could stop that monster. And no witnesses remain.

Everytime they killed another sea monster they thought, that they finally succeed.

And, in a few days, another ship got sailed.

Mora was low, and Pantalone became angrier and angrier.

The trades became impossible, and people start loosing jobs, factories started to close down.

And, finally, they have a lead, to what they are looking for. And this thing decides to hide.

Dottore clenched his fists. Everything went to Abyss after Imposter escaped.

His thoughts were interrupted by a scream.

"Man overboard!"

______

A saved man called himself Lovecraft.

And he was strange.

A tall, gaunt man, was towering above everyone on the ship. His eyes looked bored and tried. Almost empty. He hardly talked to anyone, preferring to stay on his own.

The only time Dottore saw any kind of emotion from Lovecraft, was when Fatui soldiers, after a few drinks, were discussing The Imposter.

________

"Oh, I am so jealous of Lord Harbinger! He managed to pay a part in punishing the Imposter!" proclaimed Fatui Agent (Dottore didn't care about his name), waving a mug, that was filled to the brim with alcohol, in the air. Other Fatui and millelith solders cheered.

"Yea!"

"He showed them their place!"

"Dirty parasite, how dare they impersonate Their Holiness."

The night was full of alcohol and talks.

The agent, who started talking about the Imposter, turned towards Dottore.

"Lord Harbinger, please, tell us, how you avenge Their Holiness."

Dottore rolled his eyes. The rest of the Fatui, sailors and millelith joined Agent in asking for a story. Well, one time, he can entertain them.

Dottore put down his glass of wine, cleared his throat and start his tale.

___________________________

The Dungeon was dark and dirty.

Still, too good for a creature, that were contained here.

Dottore walked down the corridor, that leads to an isolated part of the dungeon.

In the small cell, full of torture devices, it were kept.

Exact double of Creator.

A dirty heretic.

Braces on its legs had forced it to remain in a standing position all night. Its eyes were unfocused, due to a lack of sleep and enduring intense pain.

Its lying lips and mouth were now covered in burns and blisters. Before Dottore came here, the high ranking church members came, to clean its soul by pouring boiling water in its mouth.

"Well, look at this squalor. Not so confident now, are we?" with mocking concern, asked Dottore. Sinner flinched. It strained to speak with its burned throat, as it managed to croak out a response.

"want home... to friends..."

Dottore mockingly pet its head. He grabbed the fist, full of its hair, and pull. Sinner let out a cry of pain.

"Aw! This creature has friends? Well, when we are finished with it, we will go after its friends."

Dottore let go of its hair, taking a step back. He took a metal instrument from one of the small tables in the cell.

"Let me give you something, Sinner. Nice salted water for your mouth. So you won't say even more of your heresy."

_____

The crowd roared. They were cheering for Dottore.

"Hooray for Lord Harbinger! Let Creator bless you!"

"I bet, it were crying like a dirty pig, when salted water got into its mouth. Oh, my bad. I shouldn't be rude towards pigs, by comparing it to them!"

"It got what is deserved."

Dottore scoff, pleased, with the reaction.

And he felt a gaze on him.

Howard, who was sitting in the corner, looked at him.

The look was full of hate and disgust.

Howard, suddenly, became blurry.

In the next moment, the ship was cut in half.

_______

Ground was moving up and down.

The ground felt like wood.

The night was cold.

Dottore woke up. With half-closed eyes, he tried to stand up. But the ground was still moving. And his clothes start getting wetter. He felt the scent of salt.

Dottore finally opened his eyes.

He was on the raft.

In the middle of the sea.

And no ship or other crew members were in sight.

Dottore felt anger. He wasn't sure, how he got here, but, he swears to Tsaritsa and All Loving Merciful Creator, that he will find the person, who put him here, and will destroy them.

Something swam under the raft.

And someone jumped from the water, landing next to Dottore, almost sinking the raft.

Dottore was ready to curse the idiot, who almost drowned him, when he saw it.

Lovecraft was completely wet, but, somehow, dark navy, slightly wavy hair didn't look wet at all. The dull, blank, dark gray eyes met with Dottore's red eyes.

"You hurt them." there were no emotions in this voice. The man reached towards Dottore's head. A large hand grabbed Dottore's face.

A black empty holes replaced Lovecraft eyes. Octopus tentacles squeezed around Dottore.

Dottore was afraid. His fear was strange. Like it was something, that came from his ancestors. Something, that he would feel, even he was a newborn right now.

Dottore managed to gather enough power to attack.

Yet, the attack didn't do anything.

It didn't even scratch Lovecraft.

Howard put his face near Dottore's.

"You have hurt them. And I am their friend. And I will share some nice salted water with you."

Dottore was thrown in the water.

Waves closed above his head.

____

Dottore was sinking.

And a huge, octopus-like monster were circling around him.

Huge, greenish. With countless tentacles.

Monster stared at Dottore.

It became blurry again.

It changed its looks again.

One tentacle squeezed Dottore's neck and forced him to look straight at the monster.

"Ymg' lloig ah mglw'nafh.³"

Dottore looked at the monster.

And screamed.

Seawater filled his mouth.

______

After leaving Dottore near Liyue's shores, Lovecraft start swimming to their base.

To a hidden cave, where a portal, that leads back to their new world, were located.

Lovecraft reached the cave in a matter of minutes.

He took a special trap from the water, where three kois for you were swimming.

Lovecraft stepped into the portal.

_____

You were standing near a big fish tank. You carefully observed Teyvat fish, that Lovecraft brought you every time he returned from Teyvat.

You flinch, remembering Teyvat. You didn't have physical scars, thanks to Yosano, but, you have plenty of mental scars.

You heard familiar heavy steps.

Lovecraft walked inside the room. He noticed you and walked closer. He holds the trap with fishes towards you.

"For you."

You mumble a little'thank you' and took the trap, immediately releasing fiches into the fish tank.

Then, Howard hold something else towards you.

A familiar mask.

You froze, looking at it.

"For you. I made him lose his mind. He won't hurt anyone. He will never hurt you. I won't let him."

With shaking hands, you took Dottore's mask. Tears run down your cheeks.

"Th-thank you... Howard..."

A big hand carefully cups your cheeks. Lovecraft wiped away your tears.

"Don't cry, Treasured Guiding Light. No one will hurt you. And the ones, who dared to hurt you, will pay."

____

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He doesn't drink. He's only howling this words, if it's even words."

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"Let's call for the All Creator. Their Holiness might help."

______

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"Someone, put a gag in his mouth! He is disturbing other patients!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"AAAAAH!!! Dear Creator! He bit my fingers off!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"He is getting away! Lord Dottore, stop!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh! Ymg' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁵"

"He is attacking Creator! Stop him!"

_____

Dottore was standing in the middle of the same cell, where you were kept in back then. He was forced to stay in standing position. His red eyes were bloodshot. His mouth was covered in burns and blisters. He was staring at the wall.

His screams were filling the night. He doesn't care about burned throat. The only important thing in his life were the words he was repeating.

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

______

In a real world, you were sitting next to Lovecraft.

Both of you were eating chocolate ice cream.

You leaned against Lovecraft's side.

Big hand softly pet your head.

"Y' ahnythor ymg' nnn, gokar'luh. Y' ymg' ephainnn, gokar'luh.⁶"

You smile slightly.

One day, you will heal completely.

And your friends will be with you for every moment of your recovery. And for every moment after you heal.

________

¹"Future is dead. We are dead" R'Lyehn (Cthulhu language) I was using this translator.

²"Monster! Lying monster!"

³"Your mind is dead."

⁴"I must die"

⁵"I must die! You must die!"

⁶"I must protect you, treasure. I will protect you, treasure."

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #imposter au #Self-Aware Howard Phillips Lovecraft #Lovecraft x reader #bsd lovecraft #lovecraft bsd #dottore #il dottore

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ilueisiji · 2 months

Text

House of Cards - K. Scaramouche

synopsis: Married to the house of Kamisato truly bears a balance of advantages and disadvantages, after being accused of attempted murder you found yourself captive of a short-tempered harbinger.

note: mentions of unrequited love, cheating, abusive society, violence, and more

also ayato is out-of-character only for the fsnfic, please note that this is a work of fiction and his behavior is not what he really is in-game. Thank you!

Prologue: Bitter Vows

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 𖥻 Kamisato estate

As dawn hits the island of Narukami, townspeople all gathered and talked amongst themselves. Chatter in every corner can be heard in the island as the new inaugurated head of the Kamisato Clan was announced to be wed. Fabrics and fast footsteps of servants is heared in the Estate of Kamisato as everyone was busy preparing the wedding of their master; Kamisato Ayato. He is to be wed to the Fukuoka Clan's heiress — Fukuoka Y/n.

The folks all wondered why he would choose to take a girl from a clan who's experiencing bankruptcy as his bride when he can choose all different girls from more established ones to strengthen his hold on his own.

Yet, he only smiled when the question is shot at a table. To those who hear it, it's a love story they all read about from the books in Yae Publishing House, fables and flowery words thrown at each other.

But in reality these are just bitter vows, this marriage only rubs salt to his injury. He can't marry the girl he truly loved. He was forced to take on his father's legacy for his sister's sake and those who depend on the Kamisato. Words do really mean nothing when you don't understand it, perhaps it's like telling someone "I hate you" in a language they don't understand which similarly can draw a silver lining between hate and love. His bride, his marriage, the vows — they are all meaningless. He thought.

With their parents passing away the weight of carrying a whole clan downed on his shoulders. From a distance, he could only watch the the servants busying themselves in dressing up his bride with expensive silks with golden embroidery that compliments her complexion as a noble daughter. In contrast to his perplexion, she wore a smile; a genuine one, and he knew it's because she is happy to be married to him. After all, when different clans heard about his intent on marrying someone they all sent him a letter endorsing their own daughters like its red light district. But he chose the Fukuoka Clan instead knowing they are less ambitious than most of the clans.

Alas, the hour of the ceremony has finally come. He snapped away from his thoughts and smiled showing his degree of status alongside with posture. He took her hands, she wasn't nervous at all instead her squeezed his hands hoping it will calm him down, that's when he realized how fumbling his fingers are.

The wedding was smooth, everyone congratulated the newly wed. Even though he tried to smile in the crowd, his eyes looked lonely and in agony. He didn't realize his — now spouse was looking at him in her peripheral view the whole time while greetings the guests. Her smile from earlier dropped slightly when she saw him staring at a particular person from a distance. Without words or evidence she knew exactly who it was. Eyes spoke louder than mouths will ever do anyways. She loosened her grip on his arm and promptly excused herself to have a chat with her parents.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 𖥻

Once they arrived back at the estate, she was greeted by his cold attitude. He didn't mean to behave like this but his emotions, his heart was in agony seeing that the girl he so longed for wasn't the one he married. After all, what would society say if he were to marry a commoner? Some officials still insist that he's just a boy without any knowledge on how to handle the Kamisato Clan and marrying someone who's a shrine maiden won't help a bit on the situation.

"We shall leave seperate lives, I won't meddle yours and you won't meddle mines." He spoke.

Before she could answer he left the room, guilt on his eyes but it washed away as fast as it came. So she sat on the bed, still in her wedding gown and looked down. She've admired him for so long now, she didn't know if he could still remember how he helped her up when other kids laughed at her. Perhaps a part of his inner child does but they don't really last do they? She sighed, wiping a tear from her cheek and she silently waited for the servants to knock on the door.

Rushing servants came in to help her removed the balloon of a gown and she put on a fake smile so no one would notice her shoulder of sadness. Laying down the bed she wondered how long will this type of arrangement last?

"If; the time comes he doesn't learn how to love me. Then, the lantern shall blow away with the wind." She spoke silently, looking out the window in preparation for how many years and nights can she handle being alone. Day after day she tried and tried to make him open up, although he makes sure to give her attention only when his sister - Ayaka is around so she won't feel anything out of order, she's still young after all. Soon, the people started to adapt to their new first lady at the manor. Y/n tries to make her husband be more responsive even for daily questions. When she did managed to take a response out of him, feels relieving and the goals achieved.

Smooth, life was smooth. A year, after a year, after another year, and a new year have passed. They developed a respectful relationship. All was well. But, life is boring isn't it if everything runs smoothly, conflict will arrive. It's inevitable.

Her hair is straight and like crystal, she wore a pink headress that compliments her maiden outfit. Y/n could only stare at the girl in question as the news of her residing at the estate befell. Ayato never mentioned this when she asked, and yet, it's as if all the efforts washed away like it was nothing in the first place. Perhaps, she thought, he can't really manage to call this as his home without her. Afterall, in their story, she's just a side character that hindered in the way of someone else's love story.

"Pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/n." The maiden greeted and she bowed her head as well to show respect.

"Welcome to the estate, although Ayato has never mentioned anything—." She was cuttee of by ayato who cleared his throat.

"She will be staying here for good, please mind your attitude when talking to her." He warned, although it's spoken in a flat tone, the idea was there 'don't make her upset' that's what it says.

Days later, it's like she's an invisible individual on the estate, her servants, all catered for the girl her husband took into their estate without even thinking of her. She was left with her personal maid; Even the officials won't acknowledge her anymore. Now that his seat as the head commisioner is sealed, no one would dare question their relationship.

"Did you hear that? The Lord Kamisato just took home the love of his life!" A fan draped over the woman's mouth as she talks alongside her friends.

"Mhm! I heared that he never really loved her wife, can you believe it? It's a shame we all thought they are in love with each other." Another voice also exclamed as she walked on the streets to purchase daifuku because she's craving it.

"Are you okay m'lady?" Chūso, her personal maid asked her. She just nodded in response.

"I'm fine, Chūso. You should not worry about me. Your mother is still sick, why don't you go visit her at Kondu Village for a while? I won't mind." She smiled, tapping Chūso's palm.

"Really!? M'lady you're too kind!" She exclaimed squeezing back her lady's palm back while her other hand hold's the umbrella.

"Yes, I'm thinking about, leaving Narukami for a while.. to think about something. It's been 5 years, yet you're the only one who notices my shortcomings and my problems, the one who cares for what I feel. So you deserved it." Y/n smiled at her and Chūso smiled back. They continued chatting and soon they are back at the estate.

The maids are in rush, and some of the officials are there as well. Y/n looked around for what is happening and yet like invisible wall, no one answered. Ayato looked like he could murder anyone at the moment and the elders looked at her with disappointment.

"Ayato? What seems to be the prob—"

Yet she was caught of guard when he grabbed her tightly.

"Ayato! It hurts!" She was trying to make him let go but he wouldn't budge.

"Why did you do it?" He asked her, voice dropping and furious. "Did what? I didn't do anything! Let go of my wrist—!"

"Don't lie to me! The servants saw you putting something on Maya's drink! Couldn't you think?! She could've died from what you did! She and my child!" He shouted at her face. She flinched, so all this time, that's why he suddenly brought her here, that's why all the maids are treating her like she's fragile glass. All this time. Y/n, the fool with the slowest and greatest heart. First to be blamed, last to know.

"What.. But! I didn't put anything in her drink! I didn't even know she was pregnant! Why would I even do such thing!" She also shouted back.

"You don't know? Oh I know! Perhaps because you are afraid your little clan will be in shambles once Mr. Kamisato decided to divorce you. Now you have to be a desperate little cunt to put pills to kill the baby on lady Maya's stomach!"

One of the elders pointed out their finger at her, she shook her head and told them that she has nothing to do with it but no one listens.

"Don't lie, a lot of servants saw you! Go on, ask them yourself." A chief told her.

She turned to the servants and asked them lowly. "Did you.. saw me? Trying to kill Maya?" She spoke slowly.

They all nodded in response, and her shoulders fell as well as tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Even if that's not the truth.. huh? I guess.. I wasn't generous enough? Or, you can feel that Ayato never favors me, and you decided to side the latter who received more attention?" Y/n told them. Wiping her tears and they all looked down on the floor. If the walls of the estate could speak, it could tell how much kind she was with them and yet, with a little bribery, they all turned their backs.

"I see. To think I was still in the wrong position when my husband got someone else pregnant wasn't an issue makes me think, I wasted 5 years for treating people nicely." That's all what she said, then the guards dragged her out the estate for good. She knew this would happen, but she didn't expect that they would accuse her of murder. That's something she would never do.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ៹ 𖥻 Chinju Forest

She sat down on one of the rakan statue, looking back at her life, everything faded. She laughed bitterly

"I guess, this what happens to those who hope, is this my sin? Taking someone else's place in that wedding, taking someone's heart that doesn't belong to me?" She asked, after minutes the exhaustion downed on her and she fainted in the forest. Amidst the blackness, she could hear footsteps and a soft jinggle of bells.

Kami-sama, have you decided to send someone to properly bury my body?..

━━━━━━ ៹ 𖥻 CUT !

- this is my first fanfic lmao 🥹 idk if the things I said made sense but hopefully it does 😭. I've been wanting to make a fanfic about this because I don't see one that's why here I am! Please don't be afraid to correct my grammar, I'm more than happy to receive opinions since this is my first. The blog is a little plain, I'll try to make more designs in the future :>>

signing out!

#wanderer smut #kamisato ayato #genshin impact #scaramouche smut #scaramouche

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ventismacchiato · 2 years

Note

I hope you’re doing well, could you write for Scaramouche where the reader kisses his insecurities away-

Have a good day!!

KISSING HIS INSECURITIES AWAY

a/n: hope this is sufficient 😭 can’t wait for his voice lines to be released so we have a better understanding of his character

notes: reader works for fatui

masterlist

you and scara had been together for just barely a year now, and yet, scara still didn’t quite believe it. you noticed it when he didn’t react well to your touches in the beginning, inching his cheek away or jerking his hand from yours. but as the months passed and seasons changed he slowly let you in. even if that only meant getting to hold his callused hand for an extra few seconds.

you knew of his past and knew when you should stop prying, but sometimes you wished he would let you in. you had to roll your words in your mouth to see how they feel before letting them go, just to be certain scara understood how much you cared for him and wouldn’t judge. it was a slow process, but you were willing to wait.

you were both out on a mission and had separated from your crew to let them do the dirty work, perks of being in a relationship with a harbinger was that he went easy on you. if they needed help they’d call so for the most part you and scara wandered around the premise as you both competed against each other to kill any enemies in your way.

when nightfall came you both slumped against a tree, your breath visible in the air from the cold wind. scara was beside you drawing circles in the dirt, gazing elsewhere.

his other hand was free so you reached over and laced your fingers with his. you felt his body go stiff before he let you lock your fingers with his and rub your thumb against his palm.

“why do you try?” he asks, his voice mellow.

“what do you mean?” you hum, observing the chipped nail polish you had begged him to let you do the other week.

“try with me,” he adds, “it’s pointless.”

you turned to look at him, but his eyes were still downward. the light from the moon lets you see the pale glow of his skin and the bags under his eyes.

“you’re not pointless,” you slowly say, not knowing where he was going with this.

he looks down at your interlocked hands.

“i’m holding my breath every day, waiting for when you inevitably leave.”

“i’m not going to,” you easily assure.

“that’s what everyone else said,” scara dryly laughs, voice empty, “I have no clue how to do this shit. You know I’m a literal puppet. I’m not meant to love.”

“everyone deserves a chance to be loved,” you start, pulling his palm to your lips and letting them graze his knuckles, “i’m gonna stay and show you.”

he finally turns his gaze towards you, eyeing your hand in his.

“i don’t believe you,” he says, leaning his head on bark of the tree.

“I’ll keep trying until you do,” you hum, taking your free hand and maneuvering yourself so you’re straddling his lap. one hand holding his and the other grazing his cheek.

he raises a brow at you, his other hand instinctively holding your waist.

you lean down and place a chaste kiss on each of his cheeks and watch in glee as they bloom pink. his grip on your waist hardens and you take that as an encouragement to continue. you move your lips to his jaw and leave a trail of kisses down to his chin. and finally, you give him a kiss.

at first, he doesn’t respond. but after a few seconds, he pushes you up closer to him and kisses back with more fervor. his fingers interlace with yours and you only pull back for a breath.

“believe me now?” you whisper, curling a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“i’m not sure,” he starts, “you’ll need to do it a few more time,” he adds, a sly smile upturning his lips.

you give him a half-hearted shove but ultimately fulfill his request.

a/n: hope you approved anon 💓 if anyone has requests i’ve opened them^^ ty for reading and here’s to hoping tumblr doesn’t fuck up the layout of this 🍻

#genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin au #scaramouche #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche fic #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x oc #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kai requests

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glimmeringtwilight · 2 days

Text

Gilded Cage (Part Three)

ok. i'm not going to try to come up with a clever name for this one, this is just. part three. please send an ask or a DM if I missed any CW's! been a while.

Pairing(s): Dottore/Reader, Pantalone/Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: NSFW, drugging (painkillers and other ment), rough sex, biting, threats of mutilation (mild. but it's Dottore), yandere themes, noncon/dubcon, AFAB reader, overstimulation, humiliation

Dottore has been on edge lately.

You can tell. You can see it in his jaw when he’s sedating you as you lie on the operating table, eyes burning and dark as he stares through you at something presumably only he can see. You can see it in the way his hand sometimes twitches slightly– which bodes terribly for you– as he makes a small incision into your thigh, or your stomach, or your arm.

Most of the time, you think he just cuts into you simply because he can. Because he likes to watch the blood welling from the wound, dripping down your skin. He’s been doing it a lot more lately, sometimes forgetting to sedate you, sometimes forgetting to give you something for the pain, sometimes cutting too deep.

It feels like there’s a storm brewing that you can’t see; curtains drawn so you can’t look out the window and see the magnitude, brace yourself for wind or rain.

His clones seem to be affected by it, too; usually it’s only ever the younger clones of his that lash out, but even the supposedly older ones are starting to show signs of agitation. You haven’t seen the same test subject twice in what feels like weeks. All of them seem to enter and leave the lab only once– something that should horrify you more than it does, whenever you watch them wheeling the covered bodies past.

It’s this way for weeks. Dottore stalks around his lab like a harbinger of death, practically oozing poison and malice despite the deceptively calm mask he dons.

You find out what it is that’s been agitating him when he opens the door to your cell one morning. Not a clone. Not the occasional trembling Fatuus. Him. His eyes burn into you. You can’t make out the emotion in them, but the complete coolness in his expression makes your stomach sink. You wonder, briefly, if he’s going to finally kill you– would that be a mercy, at this point? Killing you? Perhaps not. Knowing him, he’d draw it out. Make it hurt.

Still, despite the terror that curls its fingers around your throat, you follow him quietly out of the cell and into the lab, staring at the back of his head as you walk and wishing you could read minds so you could at least brace yourself for whatever this is.

The two of you enter the lab and you finally realize what it is that’s crawled under Dottore’s skin, sat at the desk in the corner as though he’s not terribly out of place in the sterile environment.

Pantalone sits comfortably in one of the chairs near the desk Dottore rarely seems to use, smiling as though he’s received a warm welcome and a parade. Dottore, meanwhile, looks palpably annoyed as he strides past the banker and takes a seat behind the desk, motioning for you to follow.

It’s… Intensely uncomfortable, to say the least. You rarely find yourself sitting at Dottore’s desk, considering the doctor usually prefers to be conducting experiments rather than sitting and compiling data; he usually delegates that to his clones, who bitch and moan about the boring task.

So sitting in a chair, next to the two men who’ve each held you captive at different points, as Dottore practically radiates anger… You don’t know what to do. You fold your hands in your lap, avoiding looking at either one, even as you can feel the two of them just… staring.

You feel like you’re under a microscope, worse than any other time before when you’d been laid out on the operating table under Dottore’s invasive prodding.

Pantalone speaks first, breaking the charged silence.

“I take it you don’t mind if I verify that this one’s real,” He says, rising from his chair and smiling at the way Dottore visibly bristles. “After all, I’m paying for this, aren’t I? I deserve that much.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about you, and the demeaning way in which he’s referring to you as though you’re some object that might be counterfeit is both unnerving and irritating. You’re careful not to let it show on your face as Pantalone approaches you.

“What-” You start to ask, but you’re swiftly interrupted by gloved fingers prying open your mouth, prodding around in search of something that isn’t there. You feel them press down on your tongue, ghost over molars, then press against the back of your throat until you gag.

Somewhat satisfied, the banker pulls his fingers from your mouth and grips your chin firmly with a now-damp glove, turning your head this way and that and ignoring the obvious discomfort painted on your features as the action smears drool on your skin. What is he doing?

You shoot a glance towards Dottore, who is still just watching. He’s obviously pissed– you can see a vein popping in his forehead, belaying his anger on his otherwise blank face.

Pantalone lets go of your chin in favor of grabbing you by the arms, pulling you up from your chair and motioning for you to spin around in a circle. You do, though you’re still confused, unsure of what’s happening as the banker seems to be appraising you like a precious gem. It’s a different type of poking and prodding than Dottore’s usual tests and checkups, but it’s invasive nonetheless. It’s doubly unsettling that this is the first time you’ve seen the banker without his usual smarmy smile.

Hands find your shoulders and stop you again, and you bristle when they trace the curve of your spine, exposed thanks to the open back of the hospital gown. You feel them stop, tap something just to the left of one of your vertebrae, and Pantalone spins you back around to face him, clearly pleased.

You try not to flinch when he takes a lock of your hair in his hands– it’s gotten so long since you’d been brought back to the lab– and brings it closer to his face. His nose crinkles, palpable disgust on his features, and he mutters something about “that vile soap he makes you use”– likely referring to Dottore– before turning around to face the man in question.

“Are you done ogling?” Dottore asks, his tone clipped. You can’t see him around the banker, but you’re sure he still looks as pissed as before.

Pantalone tilts his head slightly, smiling, then glances over his shoulder at you. “Perhaps not yet, but I’m satisfied enough for now. You’ll get the funding for your little… project, and I expect to see this one at my doorstep every other month from now on.”

Every other month? You frown. Is this some sort of… custody arrangement that the two men worked out? You don’t know if you want to laugh or not at the absurdity of it all; like you’re the unfortunate child of two divorced bastards, except this is much, much worse.

“Fine,” Dottore grits out, in a tone that suggests it’s anything but. He gets up to shoo the banker out of his lab, but Pantalone merely tuts and makes his way back over to where you’re standing, confused, and rests one hand heavily on your shoulder.

“One month starting today, of course,” Pantalone continues, “It’s only fair, after all, when you’ve been hoarding my poor pet this whole time. I have to make up for lost time, after all.”

He delivers those words with a smile that only seems to irritate Dottore further, red eyes boring holes into him as Dottore visibly seems to be contemplating murder. Pantalone speaks up again before he does anything, however, offering a hollow consolation: “Of course, I’m not cruel. How about a farewell? A parting gift, to… tide you over while they’re gone?”

You don’t like the sound of that, and Dottore seems to pick up on the banker’s suggestion as you’re spun around once more and ushered towards the exam table you’ve become intimately familiar with for the last several months.

For this supposedly being Dottore’s “parting gift,” Pantalone is awfully remiss to keep his hands– and commentary– to himself.

“Ah, what a cute noise that was,” You hear him coo, a finger tapping your nose with just enough force to startle you so you flinch, “Don’t you think you’re being a bit rough though, Doctor?”

“Quiet.”

You jostle against the table, gripping the edge of it for support as hips snap into yours with bruising force. Dottore’s fingers are gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises– that’s probably the point, honestly; he’s fucking you like he intends for you to feel it for the entire month you’ll be absent.

Pantalone’s comments aren’t helping things either; despite the banker’s comment about roughness, it only seems to have encouraged the doctor to go even harder.

Thankfully, you were given something for the pain, but not from Dottore. Pantalone had pressed a pill into your gasping mouth when Dottore had started, telling you that you were going to need it, and though swallowing was a struggle, you’re glad he did.

Dull pain and sharp pleasure mingle together, and you’ve long since lost track of the orgasms that have been dragged out of you. You’re starting to numb, honestly, overstimulation bleeding into pain, and you gasp into the table with every sharp thrust into you.

“Tsk– don’t pass out now,” Pantalone chides, fingers curling around your jaw and biting into your cheeks when your eyes threaten to flutter shut, and Dottore snarls something about cutting your spinal cord if you do; something you sincerely hope is an empty threat, given the black spots dancing in your vision. “You still have another thirty minutes to go.”

You don’t remember there being a timer set, much less a time limit, but you certainly know you can’t last that much longer. Your knees have already long since given out, and Dottore had to hoist you up further onto the table so he could continue, leaving your feet dangling a few inches above the ground.

You feel weight against your back, heat, smothering you as Dottore leans down to sink his teeth into your shoulder as he spills inside you once more, and you shudder through another weak orgasm in response, your eyes rolling back and your vision blacking out for several long moments.

Pantalone shakes you back awake before you can slip too far, and you sob as Dottore starts to move again. You already know that you won’t be able to walk for the next few days, if not for the next week.

Tears blur your vision, the world spinning around you as a gloved hand comes to rest against your head, petting you in what’s likely intended as a comforting gesture but only seems to frazzle you further, overwhelmed and overstimulated as you are.

It must be Pantalone, because Dottore lets out an irritated noise, sinking his teeth into your skin to leave a new mark as he resumes the harsh pace he’d set earlier. Another hand, this one not gloved, curls around your throat to dig two fingers into your racing pulse as he tries to engrave himself into your flesh through means slightly less violent than cutting you open.

You can barely keep track of who’s doing what– your vision is too blurred and you’re too far gone to fully piece together a coherent thought before it and the breath are knocked out of you by another snap of Dottore’s hips. One of them reaches down to rub circles into sensitive nerves, and you sob as another climax is ripped unwillingly out of you.

You black out for longer this time, shaken awake once more by Pantalone. He’s cooing something at you that you can’t make out, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears and the sound of Dottore’s ragged breaths mixing in with your own.

It feels like you’re burning up, shivering weakly under Dottore’s crushing weight as the man seems to be pouring every ounce of frustration into his thrusts, and darkness encroaches on the corners of your vision with every movement.

Another shuddering orgasm. You twitch weakly through it, your body registering the sensation more than your mind does.

The world seems to tip, swaying like a vessel rocked by choppy waves before finally capsizing. Your vision goes, and you’re pulled into a sea of static.

It smells like lilacs.

It’s the first thing you notice when you slowly come to, a stark contrast to the smell of bleach and copper that you’ve become accustomed to. You’re also dressed in some proper clothes– or rather, ”proper,” compared to the usual paper-thin hospital gowns you’ve worn since being brought back to the lab.

Opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the familiar luxuries you remember seeing when you were last in Pantalone’s care, and the sight would nearly be a relief if consciousness didn’t bring with it the unbearable ache in every inch of your body. There’s a budding headache building behind your temples, stinging pains from various bites and bruises littering your skin like brands.

It aches most between your legs, but there’s an ache in your thighs and your stomach like you’d pulled every muscle within; you probably did, honestly, but you try to push back the memory invading your thoughts and you sit up in bed.

“You’re awake,” A silky voice drawls from behind you just as you sit up, and you turn around to see Pantalone sitting in an armchair in the corner, one leg folded over the other as he reads a book. He doesn’t look up as he addresses you; he just pats his knee, indicating he expects you to come to him. You’re not sure you can walk…

Climbing out of the soft bed hurts, various muscles protesting the movement, and you’re not surprised when your knees give out on you the second you rest your weight on your feet. Pantalone simpers at you from where he sits, amused, but he makes no move to help you stand up or walk. He just pats his thigh again, smiling at you.

“I can’t walk,” Even talking hurts, evidenced by the crackling of your voice when you speak.

“Then crawl.”

He says it so simply, as though you should have already known the answer. Your ears burn with humiliation. You don’t move.

“Don’t make me punish you on your first day back,” He says, setting his book down so he can properly address you. His tone is disappointed, but you don’t miss the way the bastard’s smile widens at the idea.

Pantalone’s punishments aren’t nearly as severe as Dottore’s are, at least in terms of pain. Rather than physical punishments, he seems to prefer humiliation. You’re tempted to try your luck, but… everything hurts. You don’t want him to decide you haven’t earned the privilege of clothes– or find something equally humiliating and degrading– on top of the pain you’re already in.

Crawling hurts. Every muscle protests the movement, yet again, but you force yourself to ignore the aches, to ignore the humiliation burning beneath your skin at being made to crawl over to him.

When you finally reach him you sit up unsteadily so you can climb into his lap, but you’re surprised when he stops you by pressing a gloved hand firmly against your head to keep you planted on your knees in front of him.

Instead of addressing your confusion, Pantalone merely smiles and takes hold of your wrist, raising your arm to inspect the scars and bruises littering your skin from the months spent under Dottore’s care. His face twists with disgust, shifting into faux sympathy when he addresses you again, “Poor thing. Look what he’s done to you…”

His free hand comes to rest on his knee as he straightens up, uncrossing his legs, and you hear a steady tap tap tap as he drums his index finger against his knee thoughtfully. “Aren’t you glad I’ve brought you back from that wretched place?”

It’s a leading question. You know he expects you to answer correctly, and you get the sense he’s leading into something; a demand. “...Yes.”

“I knew you would be.” He says, dropping your wrist and leaning back comfortably in the armchair. He looks down at you, clearly pleased with the position you’re in. He props one elbow against the arm of the chair, resting his head in his hand as he smiles down at you. “Why don’t you be a good pet and show me just how appreciative you are?”

The implication isn’t lost on you, but whatever hope you’d had that he might mean something else is dashed as he spreads his legs slightly further apart to make room for you between them, and you don’t miss the growing bulge in his dress pants.

Your hands are numb as you reach for his belt, and you barely flinch when his hand rests heavily against the back of your hand as you take him into your mouth.

One cage for another. You’re not even sure you’re relieved, because every part of you still aches from the reminders Dottore had left you with.

His hand presses against the back of your head, guiding you to take him further into your mouth, and you struggle to breathe around his length. You nearly gag as he pushes you down further, pushing back in resistance, and Pantalone clicks his tongue in disappointment but thankfully, lets up. Maybe he doesn’t want to ruin his pants.

“I’ll get you something for the scarring,” He murmurs, fingers curling in your hair as you bob your head up and down his length. “And those garish bruises.”

Whether it’s an insult towards you or Dottore, you’re not sure. You try not to focus on it, instead focusing on the task at hand. You lave your tongue along the base of his shaft, earning a small shiver and a heady sigh from him.

He’s silent for a few minutes as you continue to pleasure him, but you feel him boring holes into the top of your head. You don’t look up at him; you don’t want to. You’re trying to get this over with, and hoping that his silence means you’re doing well.

The hand on the top of your head leaves, and you flinch when you feel him trace his fingers over one of the scabbed over bites left by Dottore, nearly biting down in surprise. You swallow, suppress the urge, resuming your pace even as he traces the outline of every bite left littered along your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders.

Pantalone straightens up a little, pressing his hand against the back of your head again to force you to take more than you already can. This time, he doesn’t relent when you push back, just holding his hand still until you stop whimpering and you manage to swallow back the urge to gag.

“Hush.” He tells you in response to your muffled noises, groaning quietly at the way your throat vibrates around his cock.

You eventually relax, eventually get used to the feeling, and he lets you pull back slightly before he’s pressing down again, repeating until tears are spilling down your cheeks as you struggle not to reflexively bite down each time you gag slightly around his length.

“How would you feel about something… permanent?” He asks, and his fingers are tracing the bites again. You try to pull back to answer, but his other hand stops you and he rocks his hips lazily into your mouth. A rhetorical, then; he doesn’t care for your answer.

You try to blink back your tears as you resume the pace you’d set, sucking lightly on his cock as his hand curls into your hair. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying as his hand keeps threatening to force you down farther than you can take, and you’re focusing on stamping down the swelling nausea.

“Something- hm-” He hums, and you can tell he’s getting close now, with the way his breathing is starting to deepen, his hand tightening its hold on your hair- “something tasteful. Not like those eyesores he leaves you. A collar is- fuck- too… too easy to remove.”

You don’t like where this is going, but humming your dissent only earns you a pleasured hiss and a rumble of praise spilling from his lips before he’s curling his fingers around the back of your neck.

It’s the only warning you get before he shoves your head down, holding you there as cum spills into your mouth and down your throat. It takes everything in you to relax your jaw, and you pull back gasping and sputtering the second he relents.

By the time your vision clears and you blink back the tears spilling from your eyes, he’s already tucked himself back into his pants and is just watching you struggle to catch your breath. He doesn’t even comment on the mess of cum and drool that spilled from your lips onto the floor.

It takes you a second to realize he’s not staring at you, but rather at the marks left on your skin.

After a minute of tense silence, he smiles again, patting his lap this time in invitation for you to sit, and you ignore the familiar sting of humiliation as you obey. Again, one of his hands curls around the nape of your neck, tracing some pattern into your skin.

“Right here,” He murmurs, though he doesn’t elaborate when your brows pinch together in confusion.

It takes you a second to realize he’s tracing invisible letters across your nape, then another few to realize it’s his name that he’s tracing into your skin.

Something tells you that Dottore isn't going to be pleased to see you again at the end of the month.

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artful-aries · 1 year

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Genshin Men: Thoughts on Marriage + How They Would Propose

ok so it's not ALL the genshin men in this post but I do plan to do all of them at some point... (Feat. Diluc, Childe, and Cyno)

Diluc

Diluc is a very traditional man, he would be open to the idea of marriage within reason (ie; after being in a relationship for a significant amount of time)

There would be a small part of him that would have reservations about marrying you; not because of you, but because of his own traumas and issues. He's scared he won't measure up to be the husband you deserve, or that he might lose you

He's a man who pushes past his fears and shortcomings though, especially for the sake of those he cares about. He'll often find himself pondering the idea of marrying you

He would want the proposal to be absolutely perfect, it was the bare minimum of what you deserved after all, but every plan that he would begin to formulate would never come to fruition; he would find some unacceptable flaw and start the process all over again in his head

And then, suddenly one evening as the setting sun lights your face and hair aglow in an ethereal light, he finds the words tumbling out of him like a drunkard leaving the Angel's Share

"Will you marry me, my love?"

Childe (Tartaglia)

This man is all about family, and wants nothing more than to start his own family with you, so of course he likes the idea of marriage

He does worry about his position as a Harbinger though; marrying him would surely put a target on your back, and while he never had any doubts about his own ability to protect you, he didn't like the idea of you being put in danger because of him

Nonetheless, this man loves you so. He would rip out his still beating heart if you asked him to. And it won't be long before he considers the option of marriage before he proposes to you

It's surprisingly sweet and traditional; he takes you to the fanciest place to eat in Liyue, buys you a bouquet of glaze lilies, and takes you on a moonlight walk along the coast just outside of Liyue Harbor for privacy

It's there that he gets down on one knee and proposes, "I used to fight for the sake of getting stronger and beating each opponent, but now...I do the fighting for you, Darling. You mean the world to me. Would you do the honor of being my spouse, now and forever?"

Cyno

Cyno doesn't think much about the concept of marriage until you bring it up idly in conversation one day. It's not that you weren't good enough for him to consider the possibility, it's just that his work as the General Mahamatra keeps him so busy he literally didn't have the time to consider the future with you

He would listen to what you have to say about the idea, but he will hold back his concerns and deflect the conversation. He doesn't want to rain on your parade, but he has his doubt about being able to balance being a good husband and being the General Mahamatra, not to mention the danger you would be put in by association

Cyno takes the longest out of the three to finally decide to propose to you, reasoning that he's been able to keep you safe so far in your relationship, and marriage would bind you to him; in his mind, it would be like he was always with you in some way

His proposal would be a mix; he would prepare you a nice meal or take you somewhere to eat, and ask if he can speak to you privately. With the serious tone, for a minute you're sweating bullets thinking he was upset with you

In his proposal, he wouldn't make any of his awful jokes. He takes the matter too seriously to feel like delivering puns. Cyno will take your hands and look deep into your eyes before finally speaking, "As a General Mahamatra, it is my duty to carry out judgement. When it comes to you, I can think of no better judgement than for me to remain by your side, until the day I draw my final breath. Will you marry me, (Y/n)?"

He is thoroughly shocked when you start crying, thinking he has deeply offended you somehow with his proposal. It's at this point he cracks a joke, trying to soothe you.

Cyno: "B-Before you say yes to a proposal, there is one thing you have to consider..."

Y/N: "What is that?"

Cyno: "On one hand, you get a really nice ring, but on the other hand, you won't.

In Gandharva Ville, Tighnari is stricken by a sudden migraine of an unknown cause

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #Diluc #Tartaglia #Childe #Cyno #diluc x reader #tartaglia x reader #cyno x reader #diluc x y/n #tartaglia x y/n #cyno x y/n #childe x reader #childe x y/n

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cloudshuffle · 2 months

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a new dawn. yan!childe

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You rise from a deep, dreamless slumber, tangled up in soft sheets and insistent hands. Ajax’s chest rises and falls gently, ginger lashes shut over his blue eyes, cradling you to him like his most precious treasure.

Asleep, he looks more like a boy in need of affection than a warrior.

The moon is still suspended in the sky, a silver balloon ready to burst. A glance at the clock tells you that you’ve only been asleep for about an hour. Enough time to sneak back into the cabin and pretend you've been there all night.

You begin to negotiate your way carefully out of his hold. With the alcohol no longer sparkling in your veins, you feel nothing but a vague sense of urgency to return to your cabin before anyone else sobers up and notices you’re gone.

It’s a declaration. It was exactly the sort of lovesick, foolish fairytale he’d fall for. And though you’d both enjoyed those once upon a time, one of you had to grow up. Had grown up.

A puff of air ruffles your hair, and you look up to meet his eyes, blinking slowly.

“Going somewhere?” he mutters sleepily, snuggling you closer.

You tense up so he doesn’t get too comfortable. “Yes, actually. I should be getting back before anyone notices I’m gone.”

His gaze roves around the room, as if he didn’t recognise where he was, followed by a lazy yawn. “I can sneak you off the ship. Stay here.”

You push against him and he releases you, more out of surprise than anything else. “Ajax. Be serious.”

“I am.” His puppy-dog eyes follow you as you get out of bed, collecting your discarded clothing and pulling it on. “Please?”

“No,” you reply, more sharply than you’d meant. Adjusting your outfit in the mirror, you just pray that no one can see the creases in the darkness. Or the torn stocking. Behind you, his expression is a little hurt, but it only fills you with a grim satisfaction. Good. Whatever it took to keep him at arm’s length. “Do you have a rag?”

He sighs, climbing out of bed to find one for you. You soak it with water, wiping down the parts he’d left more than just bruises on.

He accosts you on the way to the door, nuzzling a kiss right by your ear. “You’re so eager to get rid of me.” His sleep-warmed skin is littered with scars, you realise, slashes and stabs of all shapes and sizes, some pale with age and others fresher.

A pang of guilt. “Sorry,” you whisper, and then you’re gone.

────────────

Liyue Harbour dawns on the horizon, sprawling and golden in the morning sun. The roofs seem to glow, speaking of riches untold - but only if you knew where to look. Which was why the Tsaritsa was expanding her presence here, entrusting the task to her harbingers and soldiers.

High above, the Floating Palace looms like a sentry, guarding the city from celestial destruction. Your fellow soldiers gather at the side of the ship, watching in awe as Liyue draws closer in all its glory. Even your heart stirs at the sight.

Childe is nowhere to be seen, likely holed up in his cabin, doing last minute paperwork he hadn't had the chance to last night.

Probably for the better. After… that, now there's a strange, ambiguous feeling in your relationship, one that had been carefully kept nonexistent during your time back in Snezhnaya.

And like a wounded fox offered easy prey, you're not sure how he might strike out next.

There's a scramble of activity again as goods are unloaded, sailors prepare for docking, and you're all ushered off the ship like a flock of sheep rather than esteemed Fatui operatives. But finally you're on solid ground again, having arrived safely at the port of Liyue Harbour.

Nadia’s eyes are so wide you think they might roll out from her skull. You wonder what you all look like to the locals - foreign operatives here to butt into their business, dressed in heavy coats absolutely not suitable for the weather, looking around in awe like a group of schoolchildren. No wonder the Northland Bank was running into so many problems here.

Only once you’re sequestered safely within the walls of the Northland Bank do you begin to relax. Despite its golden walls and Liyue-esque decor, you’re relieved to see a Fatui mask at the front desk. She gives you all a tired once-over, then returns to her ledger.

You’ve been assigned to fieldwork - meaning tax collecting, outwardly, but also venturing out past the walls of Liyue Harbour and doing whatever Childe required of you. Knowing the Fatui, there was no such thing as simple tax collecting.

As you linger at the back of the group, following the Fatui senior on a brief tour of the bank, you think of what you’d seen in Childe’s cabin. Papers. Maps. Diagrams. Theories about… dragons in the water and adeptal magic? You couldn’t be very sure about what you’d seen.

You’re dismissed to your little offices to get settled in and start on some paperwork.

You shut the door, exhaling a sigh of relief. It’s a blessing to be alone with nothing but your thoughts.

You head over to your window first, peering carefully outside. Your view overlooks a regular street, lined with other businesses, their employees stationed outside to entice customers in. You watch as a gentleman, his long brown hair tied back, strides meaningfully past. He glances up.

You duck back, holding your breath until he passes.

Enough excitement for today. You shake yourself and take a seat at your desk, thumbing through the various files and folders for you to handle. Most of them are about clients of the bank you need to keep an eye on, but they’re all normal, low profile civilians. You don’t think you’ll have a problem dealing with them.

At the bottom of the stack, substantially thicker than the rest, a folder waits for you. It’s bound in red string, full to bursting. You untie it gingerly and flip it open.

Papers spill out across your desk. Adepti, rituals, ancient ink on gold paper.

Talismans.

You feel like you’re holding your breath as you sift through the information. It seems as if the Fatui in Liyue had been doing extensive research on talismans infused with adepti magic - Sigils of Permission, more commonly known. Created by Rex Lapis and infused with adeptal power, these sigils were once used by mortals to channel divine power.

On the last page is a breathtaking hydra, rising from the waters of Liyue Harbour - no, created from the waters of Liyue itself, jaws fixed in a ferocious roar.

Oh, Ajax. What are you up to now?

────────────

“What’s that?”

You wiggle aside to make room for Ajax. There’s not much room on the windowsill, but it’s just perfect for two little children about to waste the afternoon away reading fairy tales.

“Mama and Papa got me a book of Liyue legends.”

He hooks an arm through yours so neither of you slide off your seat as you flip through the stories, reading them out loud so he can keep up.

Something thuds against your window, startling both of you from a particularly riveting passage where Rex Lapis, unable to defeat his primal foe, pins Osial to the ocean floor.

“Ghost!” someone yells from outside. “Dead girl!”

A jarring chorus of laughs as the boys ready another round of snowballs.

“Go away!” Ajax yells back, making a rude gesture, to which he receives one in turn.

“Nikolai!” One of their mothers hurries past, gathering the children up in her skirts. “Come now. It’s time for dinner…”

Her fearful, fleeting glance isn’t lost on you, as have the looks from so many other adults. They say you’d been in the water for so long that even a grown man couldn’t have withstood it. That the cold had infected you, kept you alive to spread its clutches into your village. Some of the elders even make the symbol of warding off evil whenever you come by.

It doesn’t hurt quite as much as it should have.

— word count: 1368. thank you for reading!

#cloud writes #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin #childe #yandere childe #yan!childe #genshin childe #childe x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia #yandere tartaglia #yan!tartaglia

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 8 months

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Tartaglia/Childe - "The Sword in One's Pants"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which number eleven of the Fatui Harbingers somehow doesn't grasp his comrade's sexual innuendos. Or; In which Tartaglia is very clueless and very prepared to impale people at any given time.

Warnings -> Suggestive

🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳

"Tartaglia..."

You called out to your attractive ginger-headed fellow harbinger.

"Yes?"

Tartaglia says, turning to you quickly from the wall of weapons in front of him as the two swords strapped to his waist and back jostle with the movement; the cowlick atop his head comically standing at attention as he curiously tilts his head.

"Put your sword in me."

You told him bluntly; face remaining expressionless despite the words that had just left your mouth.

The ginger blinked a couple of times as a brief moment of silence passed the both of you. He gives you a somewhat confused but excited smile. Did you finally want to take his offer to fight to the death? Finally! It sure took you long enough.

"Are you sure, Comrade?"

He asked earnestly as he rested a large, calloused hand on his hip; the other gripping the handle of yet another sword.

"Yes."

You quickly but firmly assure him; standing in your usual confident, unwavering posture to convince him of your words.

The harbinger stares at you for a good long while with slightly narrowed eyes and his signature ever-present smile. He can't help but look at you in a slightly judgemental way; you want to battle yet you look so... relaxed? Perhaps you're underestimating him.... Bah! It doesn't matter; you finally propositioned him for a duel!

".....Alright then!"

The ginger cheers after a bit of staring and raises the sword already occupying his hand into a combat position.

But when he goes to attack you...

"Not that one."

You quickly correct him; arms coming up to cross on top of your chest.

He stops to process your words for a moment; slowly blinking before his face takes on a look of light confusion. Though you can see a tiny bit of annoyance mixed in there. He seems to shrug it off pretty quickly though; the smile on his lips straightens itself out.

"Okay..."

He huffs a bit and sets the sword he is holding aside before reaching for the one on his back.

"No Tartaglia, the one in your pants."

You spoke again; stopping his hand just a few inches away from the handle.

The ocean eyed man raises a brow at you before looking down at his waist; muttering a quiet 'in my pants?'. He then remembers the sword strapped to his waist.

"Oh! The new one? I get it."

He cheers; quickly drawing it before you had the chance to interrupt him.

But when Tartaglia looked up at you again, he was met with your very exasperated expression. You bring up your hand to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger as you let off a frustrated huff.

"Archons help me— No, the other sword."

You insisted once again; gesturing to his crotch with your free hand.

He looked at you with a face cross between confused and annoyed. Did you even want to fight him in the first place?

"But I'm already—"

The harbinger began; raising his sword in confusion before you cut him off.

"Your dick, Tartaglia! I'm talking about your penis."

You half shouted in annoyance; running a hand down your face from the ridiculousness of the situation.

Tartaglia stares at you for the umpteenth time that evening before swiftly bringing up his free hand and smacking himself lightly on the forehead. That's what you meant? Actually... you did say 'in his pants and not attached or strapped to' That makes a lot more sense now.

"Oh! ....You should've said so earlier, Comrade."

The ginger head chuckles and softly shakes his head at the misunderstanding as he slides his sword back into its sheath on his waist.

Then suddenly his eyes darkened as he closed the distance between the two of you; a mischievous smirk crawling its way across his lips. Tartaglia drapes an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. You spot the already present pink on his cheeks from the Schneznayan weather growing to a deeper strawberry red as he licks his lips.

"I can certainly put that one in you."

He purrs; wet lips brushing against your ear.

🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

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