Reblogged
Reblogged
𓏲⠀bitter&sweet, florawell ─ wanderer x gn!reader .ᐟ ⋆
- rewritten/continuation/long version of this. if you've read this before, you can simply continue after the second(?) divider (I just changed a few words here and there) ! if you haven't, you can read it normally since it contains the original part !!
- warnings: hanahaki disease , mentions of blood , hurt/comfort(?) , open ending !
You didn’t know what was so special about him. (That’s a lie, I’m afraid.)
His tongue was sharp, but on second thought, it wasn’t just that. His eyes, his expressions— everything about him, including himself— were like a blade, often resulting in a shattered heart. (It was not his heart, though; he possessed no such thing.) He didn’t like being around others, except for the Dendro Archon, Lesser Lord Kusanali. An odd dynamic; well, who were you to judge?
He also wasn’t around much, despite being one of the most successful students of Vahamuna. That should have been a good thing, considering his many bad traits.
Yet, it wasn’t good for you.
Because you didn’t think he was that bad in the first place. Okay, maybe he did say hurtful things or rolled his eyes at you with such offense that you cried a lot that night, but some moments made up for it.
Moments when his words softened. Moments when his looks softened. Moments when he softened, even just a little bit.
Those were the moments you held so dear. The moments that were so special about him.
That was why your gaze always sought him out. Your voice got a little louder when he was near—begging to be noticed, even for a mere second. When paired with him on a project, you read his part twice, maybe thrice. You wanted to understand the words he chose more than others, wanting to understand him more than anyone else.
You wanted to be special to him, just as he was to you. You wouldn’t mind even if you gave more than you received, as long as your feelings were acknowledged. Sometimes it felt like they were reciprocated even—
Yet, they weren’t.
Your breath hitched, and a lump settled in your throat, where the garden of love had taken root. Looking at the petals, all bloody and torn, you let the statement sink in.
They weren't.
It seemed his love wasn’t meant for you.
The metallic taste of blood clashed with the freshness of flowers. Ah, was that what longing for him tasted like? The smell was melancholic yet fragrant—a lovely and cruel contradiction. Bittersweet.
Were they rotting from the love you had for a certain wanderer?
Maybe they were.
Not that you were any different.
You had been avoiding him, for weeks now.
It shouldn't have been this difficult to do so. He was not the type to seek people out, much to your dismay. Still, you told yourself it was for the best— believing that if you stayed away from him, the pain would fade.
But why was there still a flicker of hope blooming in your heart for him to call out your name, even just once, when you walked past him in the hallways? More importantly, why did it hurt even more when you were away from him?
You weren’t ready to let go.
Even though every blossom represented a part of your happiness that could never be returned, you still weren’t ready to let go of him.
Not yet.
Not ever.
Your nights were restless; so what? Every second passed with or without him was devastating, so what?
The feelings you harbored for him were much more important than those; it didn't matter that he didn’t need them at all.
Letting out a sigh, you placed the books you carried on the table. The Akademiya was crowded, much like always.
Maybe studying would help clear your head. (It won't. He is the one who fills your thoughts, the one who brightens them.)
You began scribbling meaningless things onto the paper—since all the meaning was reserved for him— when someone sat next to you. You almost flinched at the sound. Looking at the person from the corner of your eye, your breath caught in your throat.
Here he was, next to you.
You wished he would do something, anything. Was he going to talk— maybe?
He didn’t.
Like a reminder that he sat next to you because there were no other seats left, not because he wanted to be there in the first place.
You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You just happened to be there, like you always do. It was just a coincidence. You should have walked away, of course. But the topic was about you anyway; it was what you’d been yearning for— his thoughts.
“The person you’ve been with these past months,” Nahida's voice rang out to the Wanderer, “I don’t see them around you much. Are you two okay?”
Curiosity —a desire to learn— was very suitable for the Goddess of Wisdom.
“Hah, what an absurd question,” his snarky reply caught you off guard. “There is no reason for me to engage with insignificant mortals like them.” The Dendro Archon's gaze deepened as if she knew something he didn’t. None of them said anything after that.
Something inside you shattered.
Biting your lip, hoping it would bleed and produce a sensation more explicit than the lump in your throat, you let a few tears fall. For his sake, letting go of your tears and happiness was easy— easier than letting go of him.
Do you really not want to get better?
You do, truly.
But you want to get better with him.
Fate is a cruel thing, isn’t it?
Maybe what you yearned for wasn’t his thoughts. You definitely would have been better off without hearing them.
No matter how much you wanted to make yourself believe you wouldn’t mind if the feelings were not mutual─ it was simply a lie.
They were the best things you had, now the ones that were destroying you. Like him.
You spent the rest of the day thinking of a life without him.
You didn’t want to live like that, of course. Yet you couldn’t live like this anymore.
So you let go.
You let go of him, bidding a farewell, along with the you who loved him dearly.
When you saw him, you felt just as flowers were blooming in your chest─ from excitement. He felt like a scent from a distant memory of your past─ something melancholic yet fragrant. A lovely and cruel contradiction. Bittersweet.
“Have we met before?”
The concept of erasing one’s existence from the universe was not unfamiliar to the Wanderer. For he was the one who experienced it firsthand.
What he didn’t expect was even as the Wanderer, he got forgotten by the world again.
World?
Ah, in other terms─ you.
And maybe, in another universe─ he could have the right to refer to it as “his” instead.
He mumbled a quiet “No.” The word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth; surprisingly, he hates it. You didn't miss how his shoulders dropped slightly.
You are full of surprises, aren't you? Extending your hand to greet him,
“Shall we do the honors, then?”
It's a sweet melody for his ears; surprisingly, he doesn't mind it.
𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⠀ notes below .ᐟ ⋆
𓏲⠀ i feel evil BUHWSDHGUD2EGUD2SUIGU (not proofread, feel free to correct any mistakes if there is any!) .ᐟ ⋆
𓏲⠀in my defense everything is my depression playlist's fault !! also i am kinda proud of this work too ??? so maybe it's not a fault... .ᐟ ⋆
𓏲⠀hope you liked it <33 .ᐟ ⋆
© meritski .ᐟ all rights reserved to me, which means; you can not plagiarize, repost, translate or feed my works to ai .ᐟ
Reblogged humanitys-strongest-bamf
persicipen-deactivated20250326
basically . . .
Basically how my hypersexuality got me
Reblogged
do you mind? (repost)
summary. sharing a table with a stranger at a crowded café, only to realize they’re far more interesting than you expected.
characters. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, venti, kazuha x gn!reader (separate)
tags. modern au, fluff, crack
warnings. kind of ooc xiao and kazuha, alcohol in venti's
XIAO
- Internally panicking, but he welcomes you to the table with a small nod. He’s the reserved type—the kind to look anywhere but in your general direction just to avoid eye contact. Archons, how many times has he glanced out the window just to stare at that decorative plant? He even counted the leaves.
- Social interaction isn’t his strong suit. And it certainly doesn’t help that you’re attractive.
- If he had his way, he’d sit in silence, letting the passing seconds fill the space between you. But his own discomfort betrays him. Hands fidgeting under the table, fingers tracing the rim of his cup, gaze flickering to anything but you.
- He feigns indifference, arms crossed, posture rigid.
- But then—you speak. Because, for some reason, you find him interesting.
- You introduce yourself first, then ask for his name.
- His heart stumbles in his chest. He’s unsure if it’s from nerves or the sheer absurdity of the situation. Someone willingly trying to talk to him, despite his obvious attempts to fade into the background.
- Though his palms are slightly damp from tension, he keeps his voice steady, his expression unreadable. Flat tone. Unwavering gaze. A carefully maintained air of disinterest.
- You frown. A subtle shift, but he notices.
- That’s a cue, isn’t it? A signal that you’ll leave him alone now. That’s what he wanted… right?
- Then why does something in his chest sink when you simply nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, offering nothing more?
- He exhales quietly. Curses himself. He just lost the chance to get to know you.
- But this is the first time someone’s been able to catch his attention. So he thinks of a way to redeem himself.
"Oh. Okay." You say in response to his answer, forcing yourself to sound indifferent. But truthfully, you’re embarrassed.
You spent a whole ten minutes bouncing your leg, debating whether or not you should make the first move, only to be met with disappointment after finally mustering up the courage.
You bite your bottom lip and tap your fingers on the table, falling silent. Now, all you can do is wait for the servers to call your order so you can leave. You seriously don’t want to embarrass yourself further in front of this stranger.
“I, uh...”
A voice cuts through your thoughts.
You don’t assume right away that he’s talking to you, so you keep your gaze averted, pretending not to notice.
Then, a cough. Loud enough that you instinctively glance up in concern.
Your eyes widen slightly when you find him already looking at you.
“Yes?” You ask, taken aback that he was referring to you. There’s a flicker of curiosity in your expression, maybe even a bit of hope.
He hesitates. “…I'm sorry.” His voice is quieter this time, almost unsure. “I didn’t mean to come across as cold earlier.”
The shift in his tone is subtle, but you catch it. Gone is the detached, indifferent edge from before.
You smile, relieved. "No, no, don't worry about it! I get like that sometimes too."
He exhales lightly. Almost as if… reassured. After a beat, he offers a small, hesitant smile in return. It’s brief, but it’s there.
It suits him, you think.
It’s cute that he chose to apologize instead of just letting it be. Most people would’ve moved on, unwilling to make things more awkward. But he didn't.
And then—
"I'm not used to people." He pauses. “…Especially ones like you.”
A beat of silence.
You blink. Wait. What?
His own words seem to register a second too late.
You watch as his shoulders tense slightly, his fingers curling into a loose fist on his lap. The tips of his ears are… pink?
Oh.
Oh.
Was that supposed to be a compliment? Was he flirting with you? No way. He doesn’t seem like the flirty type. He’s definitely more socially awkward than you. Maybe he didn’t mean it like that.
But before you can overthink it—
“…If it’s okay with you, may I have your number?”
SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER
- Glares at you menacingly. Like a cat trying to hiss someone away.
- Him? Sharing a table? With some random nobody? Absolutely not. This table is his.
- Without breaking eye contact, he places his bag on the chair in front of him. A silent warning. Don’t even think about it.
- "It's occupied," he deadpans before returning to whatever he was doing.
- You, unimpressed, grab his bag and dump it on the table. Then you plop down into the chair, arms crossed, staring him down as if to say: "Try and get me out of this seat, you brat."
- His mouth parted slightly, just for a second, before snapping shut. Did you just—? The audacity.
- A scoff escapes him as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his glare sharper than ever. His fingers drum against his bicep as he mutters under his breath—something that sounds suspiciously like, "At least you're not completely spineless." Not that he’d ever say it directly.
- But since the café is packed and dragging you out by the collar would be frowned upon, he begrudgingly allows it.
- For the most part, he ignores you. Or at least, he tries to. You pretend not to notice the irritated glances he throws your way every time you smile at your phone or stifle a laugh.
- Then a server approaches.
- She sets your drink down and takes a brief look at the two of you. No food orders yet. Her eyes brighten as she leans in slightly, all smiles.
- "We actually have a 25% couple's discount for two strawberry shortcakes!"
- Silence.
- His stare darkens.
- He looks at her like she just personally insulted his entire bloodline. If he had one in this universe, anyway. His lips part, undoubtedly to say something cruel enough to make her rethink her entire career.
- But before he can, you slap a hand over his mouth.
- "That sounds great! We’ll take it!" you chirp, grinning at the waitress as if your life doesn’t currently depend on keeping Scaramouche from verbally eviscerating an innocent employee.
- The server’s eyes sparkle with delight as she scribbles down the order. She even hums.
- He looks personally offended.
You heave a sigh as the server finally walks away. Just as you’re about to relax, you feel a vibration against your palm. The glaring stranger is trying to speak, his voice muffled against your hand.
Then, before you can react—
His tongue moves.
He licks your palm.
Slow. Wet. Deliberate.
"Gross!" You yank your hand away, scrubbing it furiously against his sleeve.
He swats you off instantly, recoiling like you just infected him with the plague. "Get your germs off of me!" he snaps.
"You're the one who just licked my hand!" you retort, scandalized.
His scowl deepens. His expression alone speaks volumes.
"The hell was that for? First, you hog my table—"
"I wasn’t hogging it, we needed to share!"
"—interrupting my peace with your presence—"
"I was minding my own business!"
"—and then you have the absolute audacity to make us out as some kind of couple?!"
"Shut up, they might hear you! We’ll lose the discount!" you hiss, glancing around in case the staff overheard. The people in the vicinity gave looks of concern at your direction.
He scoffs. "You have some nerve."
You roll your eyes. So dramatic. Acting like you just ruined his life.
"I had to grab the opportunity. It’s strawberry shortcake."
He clicks his tongue. "That’s your excuse?"
"It’s strawberry shortcake," you repeat as if that alone explains everything.
He huffs, crossing his arms. "Fine. Go eat your stupid cake."
"You don’t want some?"
"I hate cakes."
You blink. Who the hell hates cake?
"Why?"
His eyes narrow. "Why? Because I hate them. I hate sweets in general. Life isn’t sweet. Life is full of bitterness and sorrow. I don’t get how people manage to laugh in this world. It’s annoying."
…Wow. That escalated.
How did a conversation about shortcakes turn into a monologue about the inherent misery of existence?
"What the hell? Who hurt you?" you mutter.
"My mother."
You suck in a sharp breath.
The words are so blunt, so casually spoken, that it takes you a second to process. Your lips twitch. No. You shouldn’t laugh.
But the longer you stare at his deadpan face, the harder it is to hold back. A chuckle slips out. Then another.
Hey, this guy is kind of funny. He's growing on you.
He gives you a baffled look like you’re the crazy one for finding humor in his trauma dump.
His brows furrow, and for a brief second, his gaze lingers—not in irritation, but in something else. Something almost mesmerized. He mutters something too quiet to catch before looking away, resting his head on his palm.
You inhale deeply, composing yourself. "Fine. I'll eat both cakes, then. I'm the one paying anyway."
He doesn’t respond, just glares at nothing in particular.
Minutes later, the same cheerful server returns with a tray of two servings of strawberry shortcake. Just as you reach for your wallet—
A hand beats you to it.
The stranger slaps down his own cash before you can even open your bag.
The server’s grin widens. "Ah, paying for the date? How chivalrous!" she chimes, her voice far too amused, before skipping away.
You freeze. Wait.
Did he just let her think that?
Your gaze snaps to him, utterly bewildered. He doesn’t even deny it—just grabs one of the plates and starts stabbing the cake with his fork.
"I thought you said you don’t like sweets."
"That’s right," he mutters before taking a grumpy bite.
You narrow your eyes. "Then why—"
He chews, swallows, and then shrugs, avoiding your gaze.
"Would be a real waste of my money if I didn’t enjoy it with you."
HEIZOU
- Has been watching you since you entered the café. Not in a creepy way, just subtle, observant, like he’s solving a case. And wow you are stunning. The way your eyes scan the room, looking for an open seat, tells him you’re about to approach him.
- He makes his move first.
- "Over here!" he waves, voice warm and inviting, like he's an old friend waiting for you. You hesitate, confused. Do you know this guy? But with no other seats available, you accept with a small, grateful smile.
- Big mistake. Or maybe the best decision you’ve made today.
- Because once you sit, he talks. And flirts. And teases. And somehow, he already knows things about you.
- Will ask you all sorts of questions: What's your name? Your age? Your birthday? Your favorite color? Any pets? Exes?
- Even taking guesses as to what your answers might be.
and he got them all right, if not, then close.But every now and then, he throws in something completely unexpected: - "What's your ideal type? Is it me?"
- "Aside from being pretty, what do you do for a living?"
- "Have you ever committed a crime before? Because now you have." He says while clutching his chest.
- You nearly choke on your drink. Heizou just grins, clearly enjoying himself.
- "Alright, your turn. You can interrogate me now," he offers, eyes gleaming with amusement.
- And so you do. Because he’s interesting. Charming. Smart. Too smart. And when he leans in slightly, studying your features like he’s committing them to memory, you feel yourself getting drawn in, too.
- Heizou hums in thought. "You’ve got the kind of face that belongs in a painting," he muses. "I’d describe it more, but I’d rather see how flustered you get first."
- You roll your eyes, trying (and failing) to suppress a smile.
- He'd be the type to reach out and take small bites of your food while chatting. He does it so shamelessly that you're impressed, so you just let him.
- This boy is so confident with himself, flirting so casually like it's second nature.
- He wouldn't go as far as to touch you, of course. He knows his limits and will keep his hands to himself. But he acts so relaxed and friendly with you that you think maybe he's just playing you.
You’re not dumb. You know he’s interested in you.
It’s not like he’s being subtle about it, either. The lingering glances, the teasing smirks, the way his eyes light up whenever you react to his words. It’s obvious.
And sure, you feel the same way. But still.
Is this how he always approaches strangers? Does he flirt for fun, or does he actually mean to follow through? How many people have fallen for his tricks before?
A thoughtful hum breaks your train of thought. Heizou taps his chin lightly, then suddenly snaps his fingers. A habit you’ve noticed ever since you sat down.
"Your expression tells me you’re doubting my motives. Correct?"
You blink in surprise. Then chuckle softly, shaking your head. Damn, he’s good.
"That’s right. A point for you, detective."
He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Funny you say that. Being a detective is my full-time job."
Your lips part slightly in surprise. He never mentioned that before. But now it all makes sense. The way he reads you like an open book, the way he asks questions so effortlessly, the way he makes it feel like you’re being studied and he’s enjoying every second of it.
"That’s quite… attractive." You admit, cheeks warming slightly.
Heizou leans back in his chair, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. "You think so?" His grin widens, but there’s a new glint in his gaze now.
"Then allow me to clear up any lingering doubts, sweetheart." He tilts his head slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip.
"I do plan on pursuing you."
Oh.
Your heart stumbles. You were not prepared for him to be that straightforward.
Heizou watches your reaction, clearly amused. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he shakes his head. "Only a true detective can crack the case of this heart theft, you know."
A teasing pause. Then, the final blow.
"And my prime suspect… is you."
VENTI
- When you approach him, the faint yet unmistakable scent of alcohol lingers in the air. He’s drunk. In the middle of the day. At a café.
- Wait. Do they even serve alcohol here?
- His head rests lazily on his folded arms, eyelids heavy, lips slightly parted. If it weren’t for the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders, you’d think he was fast asleep. Beside him, a humble coffee cup sits suspiciously untouched. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you lean in for a peek.
- Yep. It’s alcohol.
- How the hell did he sneak that in? More importantly, how has no one caught him yet? You glance around, half-expecting an employee to scold him, but they just pass him by like he’s invisible. Maybe he’s a regular here.
- Deciding not to wake him, you quietly settle into the seat across from him, giving him space.
- Then, without warning, he jolts awake.
- "Oh! Hello, stranger!"
- He’s suddenly wide awake. No sluggish blinking, no groggy confusion, just pure, unbothered energy. You flinch at the unexpected enthusiasm.
- He doesn’t ask why you’re here. He doesn’t even bother to ask your name. Instead, he jumps straight into conversation as if you’re an old friend who’s been here all along.
- And somehow, you go along with it.
- With an animated grin, he launches into the most ridiculous stories you’ve ever heard.
- "Earlier, I saw this red-haired guy absolutely demolish some blue-haired guy in a fight. It was spectacular! Ehe~!"
- You blink. Excuse me?
- That’s just one of the things he shares. He never runs out of things to say. Wild, chaotic, oddly fascinating things. Like?? Does he see stuff like that on a daily basis?
- And despite nearly passing out five minutes ago, he speaks so effortlessly that you start questioning if he was even drunk to begin with.
- Like Heizou, he will also steal some of the pastries you ordered, albeit in a more subtle manner. He thinks you don't notice this lol.
"You've got fine taste in sweets, stranger!" he hums, twirling a fork between his fingers. "Tell me, what's your opinion on wine?"
You blink at the sudden shift in topic but answer with an amused smile. "I don’t really know much about it. I just drink whatever I feel like."
Venti gasps dramatically, "Hah, I thought so! I cou—"
His sentence is abruptly cut off by a hiccup. You barely suppress a laugh as you slide a glass of water toward him.
"Whoops! My bad!" He lets out a bubbly giggle, taking the water with a flourish. After downing a few sips, he clears his throat with an exaggerated ahem.
"As I was saying—" He pauses for effect. "If you're interested in wine, I’d be delighted to educate you! I’d say I’m an expert.”
You tilt your head playfully. "I can tell."
His eyes twinkle with mischief. "But if you're not..."
He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper.
"I'm still very interested in having a drink with you sometime. You’re quite the gorgeous stranger, you know."
Before you can fully process the compliment, he winks. Smooth, confident, entirely shameless.
"So," he muses, resting his chin in his palm.
“What do you say about keeping in touch?"
KAZUHA
- Kazuha is probably the most normal one out of the bunch. No glares, no drunken ramblings, no interrogation-like questioning. Just a warm, endearing smile as he gestures toward the empty seat across from him.
- He even stands up, gently pulling your chair back for you. A small but thoughtful gesture. One that makes your heart skip just a little.
- "Please, have a seat." His voice is soft, and smooth, like a passing breeze on a summer afternoon.
- As you settle in, he strikes up a light conversation, asking about your day with genuine curiosity. He listens intently, nodding along, occasionally offering small comments that make you feel at ease.
- And unlike a certain maroon-haired flirt or a wine-loving bard, instead of stealing your food, he offers you his. With a slight nudge, he pushes his plate toward you.
- "Would you like to try some?" His expression is hopeful.
- You shake your head, feeling too shy to accept. "Oh, no, it’s yours. I couldn’t."
- He pouts. Actually pouts.
- "Come on, just a bite. Humor me." He even throws in the puppy eyes.
- And damn it, how could you refuse that face?
- Reluctantly, you take a tiny piece with your fork, just enough to taste.
- He notices. And he’s not having it.
- Without a word, he cuts a larger piece, lifting it toward your lips with his own fork.
- "Say aah," he coaxes, his smile both playful and teasing.
- Your face burns hotter than the café’s espresso machine, but you comply, letting him feed you.
- His expression softens, eyes twinkling with quiet satisfaction.
- But just when you think it couldn't get worse—
- He leans forward slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips.
- Before you can react, he reaches out, thumb brushing lightly against the corner of your mouth.
- Then, with a casual grace that should not be allowed, he brings his thumb to his lips, licking off the stray bit of cream.
- And smiles.
- Innocently.
- As if he didn’t just send your soul straight into the abyss.
- You stare at him, utterly flustered, while he simply sips his tea, acting as though he didn’t just casually destroy you in broad daylight.
"You're acting awfully sweet to a stranger," you point out, tilting your head at him.
Kazuha hums thoughtfully, swirling his tea. Then, he gives you a small, shy smile.
"Am I? Well... how could I not, if the stranger is you?"
Smooth. Too smooth.
He gives you a shy smile. "We could fix the 'stranger' part. How about friends?"
You giggle softly. "Are you sure just friends?"
He gives you a playful look. "Well, we could be more in the future."
His laugh is light, airy. Like the whisper of wind through maple leaves. But then, something seems to dawn on him, and his expression shifts.
"But—" he pauses, suddenly looking sheepish. "If you're already seeing someone, being friends is enough."
Oh, that's adorable.
You giggle behind your hand, heartwarming at his sincerity. After all that flirting, he's still worried about stepping over a line.
"Don't worry," you reassure him, "I've never dated anyone."
His eyes widen slightly, genuine disbelief flickering across his face.
"Is that so?" He tilts his head. "That's surprising. I thought someone like you would be off the market by now."
You shrug, smirking at him. He leans in just a little, voice dropping to a gentle murmur, as if sharing a secret.
His gaze locks onto yours, warm, admiring.
“I get to find and keep the treasure, then? What an honor.”
note. ah yes the work i was most proud of back then lol anw i’m planning to make a part 2 for this idk when tho maybe when i feel like it. i improved a few bits from the original and this is not proofread! i literally just skimmed through the text and changed a few stuff hope u enjoyed say hi if u remembered this
© lmvari do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works on any platform.
Reblogged
A Mate’s Special Touch
͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙
Contains/Warnings: tiny bit of angst (his wings being gone, we all know he would’ve had them), clingy Xiao (self indulgent sue me), mentions of bird habits and mating
A/N: Saw a yt short about the difference between petting vs stroking ur birds and the meaning and I was suddenly inspired
Song this is named for: None
͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙
Reblogged
— I CAN SEE YOU ⊹₊⟡⋆
scaramouche x f!reader social media au
SUMMARY — you’ve been stanning scaramouche, a soloist, since before you can even remember. with the thinking that “he is out of your reach” and “we live in different worlds” already ingrained on your mind, just what are the odds that he already happens to be one of your stan account mutuals?
status: on-going | taglist: open — please reply to this masterlist in order to be added !! note: asks for being included will be invalid; only those in the replies will be added so that we're organized tyy ^^
genres: social media au, celebrity au, modern au, crack, fluff, a sprinkle of angst (?), hidden identities
extras: playlist — [click here] 🤍 (still a wip tho hehe)
author's notes:
- 3rd smau hello???
- privacy (my ayato smau) spinoff !! scara will finally have his own story after 2? 3? years ToT
- updates may be inconsistent, i don't have a posting schedule :>
- again, idk what i'm doing haha
- english is not my first language so expect grammatical and typographical errors (bear with me please :"D)
- will contain swearing
ılıılıılıılıılı FEATURED ARTISTS. ---- sky.
----- scara.
TRACKLIST. ılıılıılıılıılı
intro (prologue): being a scara stan
track 01: him again ▸ track 02: make me track 03: not in public ▸ track 04: our little secret track 05: tba ▸ track 06: tba track 07: tba ▸ track 08: tba
outro (epilogue): tba
TAGLIST I (closed; 50/50) @kararisa @aries-afk @aetherialcrafter @jamieexistss @lordbugs @aerisellesuchi @adres-tia @luvlockettt @kinichval @miiltrix @suzueuieeeee @automaticpatroltragedy @ahirusstuff @kyuki07 @kunikuni1819 @hungryreadingaddict @deariroha @rosieyama @slayzzz @tired-jaz @mellowberrie @kyouzki @riabriyn @ravenbc @lalalaloveallmydays @moonlitreveri3 @skyoverkill1 @xiaomainlmao @phoenix-eclipses @yomishen @anemosmybeloved @iaraluvs @kunikuzushiit @lockandkeys @yoursockstinks @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @d1gital-data @shyentsmissingink @liuaneee @najaemism @mywillt0live @aswiftiechildofapollo @toekissers @meigalaxy @nishiriks @executeher @verafunny @gl00muraaii @lily-isalittlegirl @just-a-hopeless-romantic @franaby @shrimplyasleep @scaraenthusiast1 @kyon-cherri @kunikissr
TAGLIST II (open; 19/50) (can't mention bc tumblr limits 50 mentions per post :'( but rest assured you guys are added ^^)
@withnners @audristarzz @heusalettle @mayarisan @eternallykira-143 @cindywasneverhere @meowrenapurrdo @itsjustmillie @flowzel @ohmyfinggod @zuhahearts @scarasbaby @euphoraia @yotraumainthebuilding @pinkismyfavcolor @dazqa @jym-jazzily @usagiarchive @ddivilove
TAGLIST III (open; 0/50)
Mature content
Reblogged
-The Cruel Prince-
NSFW, 18+ only Plz~
Summary: Prince Scaramouche is a ruthless Prince ruling over Inazuma. His engagement to a princess has him upset. You are his servant who he talks to regularly. He invites you to his private chambers one day...
Pairing: Prince! Scaramouche x Servant! Female Reader
Warning: Mean/Nice Scara, power relationship, fluffy cuteness, mean princess she don't got no name, unprotected sex, foul language, mutual masturbation, porn w/ plot, and cream pies hehe.
Word Count: 6.3K (...These are too long. I'll be making some shorter smuts without so much plot!)
Enjoy~
“Hmph, you, servant. Meet me in my personal chambers when you are finished. Do not leave me waiting long.” Splashes of dark lavender pooled from his eyes, his gaze piercing and powerful as he stared intimidatingly in your direction. The flashes of his Royal outfit shining under the chandeliers of the palace. With a swift turn, the prince left the kitchen where you had been cleaning up with the other servants. Low murmurs were exchanged among your co-workers, most in envy, some in fear, and some with pity. Prince Scaramouche of Inazuma truly was someone to be feared among all ranks, Including those of other nations. Just the mention of his name and the sound of thunder struck fear into the souls of even the dead. Now here this terrifying man was, inviting you to his personal chambers.
What could Prince Scaramouche possibly want with someone like you?
Mature content: Sexual themes
This post may contain content not suitable for all audiences.
Reblogged
reocidal-deactivated20250312
the other side
— xiao x gn!reader
prologue || >
content warnings: break-up, angst, mentions of nausea
"we should break up."
xiao is stone-faced as he sits opposite you at what once had been your shared kitchen table. now it's just yours; apparently his staff will drop by later to take his things. and he's leaving, without even a proper goodbye.
where'd this come from, so out of the blue? you'd been fine as of late. maybe a little busy, a little distant because of that, but nothing more.
"xiao," you begin.
"don't." he shakes his head, standing up roughly. "i don't expect you to understand, but don't try to fight it. nothing will make me change my mind."
"xiao." you're so, so close to crying; but then his next words make you pause out of disbelief.
"how much?" he demands, and though you know he's trying to act all mean and nasty right now, you still hear his voice shake. just a little.
"what?"
"how much do i need to pay for you to not pursue me about this? i only have about a thousand in cash right now but—"
"this isn't about money!" you get up, stumbling blindly after them.
"you can contact my staff and they'll wire over any amount you ask for—"
"xiao, what— i love you!" your voice is raw and broken, and it makes him freeze in place.
"stop," he pleads, though he doesn't make a move to turn back. and his voice breaks, and you think he might be crying too. if only his back wasn't turned, if only you could see—
unceremoniously, the door slams shut, leaving you alone with an empty apartment and a broken heart.
THE OTHER SIDE
he hates himself for being this weak, for letting you see what he'd been desperately trying to hide the whole time.
it's more about you than him, this breakup, but still completely his fault nonetheless. so, so many regrets — he shouldn't have followed those stupid dreams of his, when all he dreams of these days is you.
and it's his fault that you're at risk now, too; his fault that you being associated with him in the slightest will result in you getting jumped by a horde of rabid fangirls. he doesn't want any of that anymore though, not the game and not the fans and not even the money.
but he can't tell you that — he knows you'd follow him to the ends of the world (to be fair, he'd do the same for you) and so the only way to really make sure you're going for good is to make you hate him.
his phone rings — it's one of the higher-ups of his company, and he says exactly three words when xiao answers the call.
"is it done?"
"yeah," xiao grits out. he fucking hates that guy.
THE OTHER SIDE
4NEMO's latest press conference addresses the recent rumours about dating and similar topics; you watch xiao tell everyone there that he is definitely not dating anyone, and he doesn't even look sad or anything. seeing him so okay is nauseating and the love that you'd been so full of just a few days ago feels terrifyingly out of reach.
TAGLIST IS OPEN !!!
@kissunday @tiramizuloz @verafunny @heartmaddie @mivqko @fiannee @kang-ulzzang @mixolya @kr1nqu
© reocidal 2025
Reblogged
reocidal-deactivated20250312
the other side
pairing: xiao x gender neutral reader
synopsis: the famous idol, alatus of 4NEMO, also known as xiao, also known as your (now ex) boyfriend, breaks up with you because it's threatening his career. (he really doesn't want to, but sometimes sacrifices must be made. that's what his company says, anyways.) the two of you go about your daily lives as you try to get over each other, both unaware of what's happening on the other side. but as the two of you take up new hobbies and try out different things, life keeps pushing you back to each other. so now what?
content: SOCIAL MEDIA AU, exes to lovers, idol au, streamer au? sort of, zhongli is 4NEMO's manager.
warnings: crude humour & language, possible ooc, late updates/unscheduled updates, weird friend groups, angst but not very fleshed out angst, ignore timestamps, possible alcohol consumption, i'm not an expert when it comes to idol aus, venti. warnings may change as series progresses, chapters will have individual warnings.
INTRODUCTIONS: 4NEMO || LO5ERS || MISC.
part i — fallout
the aftermath (part one)
the aftermath (part two)
cheer up
take a break
try something new
part ii — new beginnings
crash out over a videogame
try to forget (you still remember)
go outside for once
interlude: music festival
surprise guest
unknown number
part iii — same old, same old
the aftermath (again)
clean
change is good
announcement
one last time
peace and love on the planet earth
epilogue
CHAPTER NAMES ARE LIABLE TO CHANGE ;; TAGLIST IS OPEN 💫
@kissunday @tiramizuloz @verafunny @heartmaddie @mivqko @fiannee @kang-ulzzang @mixolya @kr1nqu @nobodybutnnoorr @luminescent-lights @yukari1k @wonderful-worlds @lululiciouss @c4ttheart
© reocidal 2025
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)
pairing. kinich x fem!reader
word count. 3.4k
genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise
summary.
you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots
author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!
I.
“You’re annoying.”
The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.
It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.
His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.
“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”
“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.
“Then you need to get faster.”
Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.
After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year.
“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.
Reblogged
✒︎ how (not) to fall in love.
synopsis: your best friend is tired of being single. she wants to fall in love. she wants to become like the female leads she's watching from romance movies. so being the supportive and kind best friend you are, you decided to help her! except that the guy she has her eyes on happens to be your long-term crush from your middle-high school days. surely, you're not the one who will fall for him... right?
― or in which you try to avoid falling for your crush but fate has other plans.
pairings: scaramouche x fem!reader
status: on - going
genre/warnings: social media au, modern au, fluff, crack, slowburn, college au, time stamps don't matter, mentions of alcohol, kys/kms jokes, swearing, tba
started: 10 - 11 - 24
ended: tba !
taglist: CLOSED!
profiles:
✒︎ y/n and 99 others || ✒︎ hot and cold
chapters:
✒︎ playlist
✒︎ start. no fcking way ✎
✒︎ 01. looks away respectfully
✒︎ 02. chance
✒︎ 03. my type
✒︎ 04. reluctance
✒︎ 05. a you problem
✒︎ 06. here we go again
✒︎ 07. ok rude
✒︎ 08. who ✎
✒︎ 09. that should be me
✒︎ 10. different ✎
𒀸 cut.
✒︎ 11. u asking me on a date?
✒︎ 12. lock your doors
✒︎ 13. lunch date! ✎
✒︎ 14. i said what i said
✒︎ 15. serves you right
✒︎ 16. on read
✒︎ 17. he likes someone
✒︎ 18. friends
✒︎ 19. can we talk?
✒︎ 20. feels like a real home ✎
✒︎ 21. mind your own business
✒︎ 22. for sale
✒︎ 23. is it bad?
✒︎ 24. this you?
✒︎ 25. the tables have turned
𒀸 cut.
✒︎ 26. calling it
✒︎ 27. let's meet
✒︎ 28. soon ✎
✒︎ 29. no shit sherlock
✒︎ 30. habibi
✒︎ 31. run away ✎
✒︎ 32. look at me
✒︎ 33. jealousy at its finest
✒︎ 34.
✒︎ 35.
✑ tba !
⟣ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (closed):
@livelaughlovekuni @shyentsmissingink @xionri @alatusorrow @skyoverkill1 @illu-fu @lololol00 @saechiro @stratusworld @dazqa @eunseok-s @jiminscarmex @yhailey @samyayaya @help-whatdoimakemyusername @ilovwfurina @blvdmrcnry @trulyylee @morgyyyyyyy @y3u11aiu @misswetty @heusalettle @lalalaloveallmydays @jayzioxx @scaraenthusiast1 @raineyun @kunikissr @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @nishislcve @v4lerixxq @lxkeeeee @liuaneee @kuniz-darlingg @phoenix-eclipses @manhdayyyy @anqelkoz @ariesloves @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @kioffy @ihatebananas120 @eternallykira-143 @suniika @almond-t0fu @projectsfantasy @vi0let-writes @constellationguy @usagiarchive @aetherialcrafter @angelkazusstuff @shidouuuliner
aries-afk © 2024. || please do not repost, or plagiarize !! all genshin characters i write for belongs to hoyoverse.
Reblogged
࣪ . ִֶָ๋ KINICH: ❝ HEAVEN CAN WAIT. ❞
pairing: kinich x afab!reader (uses she/her) synopsis: during the invasion of the abyss, the bond between you and kinich is put to the test when you're both lost in the chaos searching for eachother, as he fulfills his sacred duty as one of the heroes of Natlan. warnings: spoilers of the 5.1 archon quests! lots of bodily injury + descriptions of gore, the war ingame is described in a darker way here, cursing, many mentions of death. wordcount: 5.4k cho’s notes: PLS SRSLY LISTEN TO THE INJURY WARNING!! i might be a little dramatic but theres an injury here that made me geek when i was writing it idk. this is basically 5.4k words of me pretending to understand the mechanics of the ode of resurrection 😭 i was inspired to write this after playing the 5.1 aq! hope u guys enjoy this, happy reads <3
taglist: @sillywinnertidalwave
Today marked the exact moment the people of Natlan realized that the abyss weren’t just these noisy hilichurls you see camping in the meadows or the occasional mages you’d encounter in the caves; The Abyss was a ruthless cult of monsters with their uniform goal of bringing humanity to its demise.
‘It was never supposed to get this bad.’ was the only thought racing through Kinich's mind as he swung from cliffs to trees as fast as he could, the muscles in his arms feeling like they could rip apart if he swung one more time, his head slightly burning with exhaustion and heart racing with overwhelming pressure.
People were getting massacred on the ground underneath him, as numerous warriors and guards pushed themselves beyond their limit to fend off the neverending wave of rifthounds and hilichurls coming from the illuminating pylons—and he couldn’t do anything about it. Not when everyone and everything needed his aid, all at once.
But Kinich had someone to come home to, and it was you.
The last moment of peace the both of you had together was just earlier today; Sipping coffee and eating fruit together, discussing light subjects to try and distract each other from the rising attacks of the abyss, totally oblivious to the fact that Natlan would be dragged into war by them hours later.
He felt like it was just a minute ago when you sat in front of him, and glowed under the sunlight, slicing apples intricately as your lips spilled words. ‘How could this happen?’ he thought.
The image of you smiling, your face full of faith pulsed in his mind, making his stomach twist when his eyes landed on the village of the Scions of the Canopy; it was on the brink of ruin.
Caravans and carts were being ripped open with the goods spilling onto the ground only to be squashed, children getting dragged by desperate parents, greedy businessmen clawing at their money hoping it would save them, and the scattered limp bodies of innocent natlanese. The sky loomed over everyone’s heads in an eerie color, only amplifying the hopelessness he rarely felt in his chest. The scent of blood and burning ash filled his nostrils the second he violently landed onto the oversized canopy, mildly hurting his ankles in the process.