The Orcas’ Tale

for scara "am i bothering you, my lord? i just felt really lonely..." 🙏

notes: yandere, afab reader, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome

There’s a hand on your head before you know it. A firm presence that strokes, calming and possessive. You don’t have to look up from your position on the floor, carefully kneeling on a cushion next to his seat, to know what expression is is on his face. Possessive and pleased. A smile, though not exactly a nice one, even on his better days. 

You lean into his touch and shift on the cushion, hoping to get more comfortable. If he hasn’t kicked you out already, it means he’s in a good enough mood. You might be able to coax him into a walk in the gardens later, if you play your cards right. 

And you do so want to play your cards right with your husband. 

You don’t know when exactly everything began to shift. When you stopped feeling like your stomach was constantly empty, being twisted and pulled in every direction. When your everyday activities morphed from anxiety-inducing expectations into simple habits. 

When you stopped feeling like a captive and started feeling like a wife. 

Was it when you felt ill, and he deigned to stay by you through the worst of it? Spooning broth into your mouth and wiping your face with cool, amp rags? A soft, affectionate move that had caught you by surprise. The gestures had seemed foreign on his face, and you wondered for ages whether or not one of your ladies or perhaps a servant had suggested it to him.

Was it when he offhandedly confessed that the thought of entertaining a particular traveling noble made him want to electrify his own eyes out, and the pair of you conspired to get the man drunk--and thus, off to bed and out of his hair--as quickly as possible? It was childish, silly even. You poured cup after cup and Scaramouche said nothing as his guest became absolutely sloshed. That night you even laughed about it together, snickering, warm under the covers of your shared bed.

Little moments, bit by bit, that paved over the reality of your situation and gave it something more palatable in your mind. Something you could work with and live with, possibly even enjoy. 

And if you no longer shy away from his hands, if you call him husband without a bitter taste on your lips, if you do your best to keep him pleased and reap the results... can you be blamed? 

You know it’s wrong. Deep down. You’re not stupid. 

If you think about your situation for too long, you know what you’ll find. Underneath the layers of crafted moments, the shiny veneer that you’ve painted onto your heart. 

You’ll find a different you that wants to positively scream and fight at every turn. A different you that wants to throw up at the thought of being around Scaramouche willingly, one that would never initiate affection... much less crave it from his hands. A different you that bore his punishments, his stings and shocks, grinding your teeth to avoid giving him the satisfaction of audible pain. 

But you can’t live like that forever. You tried. You tried for as long as you could, rebelling against him, rebelling against the life he’d forced you into. You were tired of being pushed down, mentally and physically. Tired of being sad. Tired of feeling like you’d never escape.

So now? You don’t want to escape. 

Now you want him to touch you, to praise you. To shower you with gifts, though he still holds them over your head if he finds you’re being too needy. What do you need to see your family for, when he’s just gifted you an expansion to the gardens or a much-coveted visit to a local festival? 

Now you want to peel back the layers of Scaramouche, taking them off like marital robes, until you reach the Kunikuzushi underneath. Imperfect and clay-like. Unfinished. You want to see what makes him work and makes him stall and fill the gaps in him with something of yourself.

“My wife is lonely,” he murmurs, and his fingers still in your hair. “I’ll have to rectify that, won’t I?” 

You look up, finally, and your stomach doesn’t twist at the sight of his lidded eyes gazing down at you. Instead, your heart feels lighter and you reach up with your own fingers to intertwine them in his.

“But you already have.” 

pretty bunny yan!tighnari x bunny!reader (bunny reader brainrot send thirst)

----------------------------------------

"oh bunny~"

his voice purred into your ear as he folds your legs over against you, pressing you into a mating press. his cock prods at your hole, smearing the pre against you.

"my sweet bunny, wont you be mine?"

he looks into your eyes, waiting for your response. your ears folded over and you grab them, pulling them over your face to hide how red youve gotten. one of his hands comes up and grabs yours, pinning it to the bed.

"i said.. wont you be mine, bunny?"

you still dont answer, too shy to speak. he tisks and thrusts himself into you harshly, setting a quick and deep pace right at the start.

"come on, we're perfect for each other. both in the midst of our ruts.. together~! its like fate was pulling us together. nng! youre so tight, so perfect for me, youre so perfect, be mine, be mine please, wont you be mine?"

you cant hide the moans spilling from your lips. hes right, you're both in the middle of your heats. he could smell it in the air, pleading you to let him breed you because it was just too hard to resist. with your clouded mind, you couldnt think of anything else but his cock going into you, so you agreed.

he pressed you into the mattress and went harder, letting out a strained moan. he couldnt help himself. his ears flattened against his head and he continued to spew out dirty words, calling you his bunny.

"my bunny.. my bunny.. i have thoughts about you.. dirty dirty thoughts.."

you cry out as you start to feel a warmth build up in your stomach.

"close! m close,,"

"fuck-"

tighnari's hips went faster, his teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck. he wants to mark you so everyone knows youre his.

"nari! n-nari!" you squeal, moaning out.

he groans hearing that nickname coming from you. with a few last thrusts of his hips, you both cry out in ecstasy. but does this stop him from pounding into you? not at all <3

Recently been brainrotting about how it would be to be ayato's personal assassin 🤤

Obv if you want to write this out it can be as nasty as you want it to be i won't complain one bit 🤭

As always love your works 😚💕 they are so incredible i will tell my whole bloodline about it

warnings: yandere behaviour

ngl same...

even in the trailer, it's obv that the kamisato clan handles much more than just cultural/festival events in inazuma. given that he's an important man in such a powerful position, it makes sense that he would have a personal assassin or group to handle the more... hidden affairs.

even though ayato has the shuumatsuban at his disposal, you've always been his favorite little plaything to send out.

initially, ayato is rather on-guard about the whole assassination thing. after all, what's to say that you won't turn around and stab him in the back? but you don't even flinch when ayato hands you your next name. nor do you hesitate to step into the skirmish whenever his life is in danger.

the sort of unwavering loyalty you have for him is... refreshing, to say the least. but ayato also quickly realizes that aside from being his employee, you want absolutely nothing to do with him outside of your 'work' sphere. in reality, the only thing keeping you bound to him is the simple piece of contract with both your stamps on it.

and this realization irks him. do you really see him as nothing more but your employer? surely, you must feel something for him. he has always played favorites with you after all.

archons, ayato just cannot seem to get your stoic looks out of his mind. being the man that he is, your role gradually shifts from personal assassin to personal bodyguard. he will have you follow him around like a second shadow.

it's not secret that the lines between your work and personal life around ayato begins to blur when your employer gets touchier than before. he makes you spend late nighs with him as he 'works' on his latest reports. and all of a sudden, it feels as if all of your friends have been slowly cut out of your life. every day and night, kamisato ayato is quite literally the only person you see as your missions become non esxistent.

one by one, ayato is determined to break you apart piece by piece and fix your jagged pieces back together again until the only thing you've ever know of is him. you may be strong, but you are no match for ayato's elaborate schemes.

whether you like it or not, kamisato ayato is still your boss. even though you are planning to leave as soon as your contract ends, will he allow it? because underneath his pleasant smiles and soft touches, there's already a gold ring with his name on it ready to be slipped onto your finger the moment his infinite patience runs thin.

once you are truly his, there will be no more of this assassination nonsense. no more steel edges and bruises. instead, ayato thinks that you'd look much better wrapped in silk and gold. and perhaps... underneath him.

what if... tighnari with fox reader... breeding..

BREEDING W/ FOX READER!

ಇ feat: tighnari

— cw: mating, mentions of knotting, marking, rough sex, hair pulling, mean dom! tighnari, scratching, breeding kink

a/n: HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!

“does it hurt?”

it’s been hours, maybe even days since you were thrown into tighnari’s bedroom and locked in with the beast that brought you. the once cool and comfortable area now filled with a sweltering heat that did nothing to sooth either of you. it was terrifying — your boyfriend, once so gentle and playful, is now a feral creature with only one thing plaguing his mind.

each time tighnari’s hips make contact with your ass, his grip on your hair gets almost impossibly tighter. if he didn’t let up soon, you’d end up with a headache the next morning. you know better than to reason with him, though, especially when he’s in this state. it definitely didn’t help with your heat just around the corner — it’s probably what drove him to act so unhinged with you in the first place.

the smell of hot, nasty sex permeated the air along with hoarse groans and whimpers. tighnari’s green bedsheets were positively ruined at this point, the fabric soaked with your juices and his thick seed. no matter how much of his semen dripped down your thighs due to your fullness, he wouldn’t stop fucking his load into your spent pussy. claw marks littered your back and hips, some deep enough to where they were dotted with blood spots. did he care? not at all. from where his head was buried in your neck leaving small teeth marks, all you could hear were his frantic and jumbled sentences.

“f-fuck… mn… need to…!”, he choked out as his pace grew quicker. the overstimulation was too much for your poor body to handle, but the moment you tried to pull away he was gripping your tail to force you back down. it was no use. you were doomed to submit yourself to him until he fucked his little babies into your womb. you had absolutely no chance to escape. how could you outrun the renowned forest ranger?

“n-no fucking running… you’re gonna sit here and t-take it until my knot’s buried in you!”

He loves me, I love him not

Synopsis: When he tells you he loves you and you don't say it back. {So like forever ago I don't remember how long, there used to be this Tiktok trend where a person wouldn't say I love you back to their partner and film their reaction.} That's the idea behind this but it's not really a modern au. The boys aren't being filmed. You're just messing with them.

Disclaimer: No pronouns used/gender specified. Not a modern au just straight up fluffy stuff with a small amount of angst in Chongyun's part.

Characters: Aether, Chongyun, Tighnari, Venti, Scaramouche.

A/N: I want to write a new 5wirl post so bad but I also doubly realized how much I enjoy writing for Tighnari. So you guys will have to suffer till I get bored of him.

Venti

☆ He says he loves you so often that your reply has become second nature. So much so that you worry you might not be able to trick him like this.

☆ Yeah part of it was because he was the absolute cutest and sweetest boyfriend ever. But the far louder side of your brain nagged on about how you'd end up hurting his feelings.

☆ Though you pushed those worries aside and did it regardless. It was just a test of sorts after all: "I love you." He mumbled sweetly into your ear as the two of you sat side by side, feasting on apples and bread for breakfast.

☆ The words sat on the tip of your tongue, an equally affectionate reply replaying in your brain. "Mhm." You settled on.

☆ His head swiveled towards you so fast you could've sworn it'd disconnect from his body. Though it only took a glimpse of the corner of your eye for a small smile to stretch across his face.

☆ "Not feeling it this morning, Windblume?" His words so close to your ear cause the hairs against your neck to raise and you let a little shudder flow down your spine. "Or maybe you just feel like teasing."

☆ "Ven.." You cut off at the feeling of his lips on your cheek.

☆ "It's ok." He giggles "Though if you ever genuinely don't feel like saying it back, don't worry I understand."

☆ "I love you too, so much."

Tighnari

☆ Listen he rarely ever says these three words. Not because he doesn't feel as strongly for you as you do him or because he's heartless. He just doesn't want to overuse the phrase. He thinks it should mean something every time.

☆ And it's been a while since he last said it so at this moment he just stops, deadpanning in the doorway.

☆ No words to break the awkward tension just a full blown not blinking staring contest.

☆ "What?" You gaze back at him innocently

☆ "Don't play dumb, I believe I said something very romantic and heartfelt a moment ago."

☆ "Did you??" You continue to tease, pulling a confused expression for effect.

☆ And yeah sure you could spend the whole day trying not to let a grin slip as his unamused grimace gets darker. But of course you slip and say it back. Just be prepared for him to be the petty bastard he is and revoke kissing privileges later.

☆ What do you mean he's dodging your kisses? He's just busy right now. Guess you'll have to wait till he stops finding your annoyed huffs funny.

Aether

☆ He says it at least once every time he sees you for two reasons: One the constant fear that the next time he sees you will be the last. And two he's just naturally affectionate in that way.

☆ So yeah: this time when he says it and he's met with pure silence he's more than a little worried. He's not exactly looking at you right now. He's cleaning the last of the dishes in the sink, while you dust the living room only a few feet away.

☆ He ponders over whether or not you heard him or maybe in fact he just hadn't heard you. So he just repeats himself, waiting a bit anxiously for a reply. Though this time he notices the quick flinch of your shoulders and the way your cheeks puff only to relax a second later.

☆ Suddenly your little game is exposed. He dries his hands, walking up behind you quietly enough that you don't hear him coming.

☆ He soon enjoys the wriggle of your hips in his grasp as he pulls you off the table you'd been standing on. Gently he lowers you to the ground his kisses swiftly covering every inch of your face. A soft murmur of "I love you" pressed into every spot on your face until all you could do was breathlessly wheeze his name.

☆ Now you can't help but state the words back outright. Your beaming grin and adoring eyes giving you away before you could even utter it.

☆ But Aether's, Aether so of course neither of you are moving from that spot till he gets the appropriate amount of kisses and love you's back.

Chongyun

☆ Another one who doesn't say he loves you often but he knows what displaying those emotions can do to him plus he's a little shy. It's ok you live with it.

☆ Today had been sort of rare though. He'd been off the whole day, just meditating during the early morning and training until the sun had finally set.

☆ Unlike Xingqiu, you didn't play pranks on Chongyun. Actually you were the one who normally took care of him after Xingqiu's latest prank. But you felt a sort of playful mood arise. Perhaps not seeing your boyfriend today had stirred up some energy in you.

☆ He slipped into his side of the bed like he always did, reaching out to intertwine your hands. "Goodnight Name, I love you." He whispered

☆ "Goodnight, Yun." You shifted closer to him, eyelids drawing shut.

☆ You can feel every shift of the mattress as Chongyun wiggles about, hand holding yours a little tighter and then suddenly everything stills.

☆ You almost pretend to wake up but he takes the choice away, taping your shoulder.

☆ "Name, Did I upset you? You always say you love me back.." His eyes shift between each of yours as he nibbles the popsicle. (You honestly can't imagine where he got it from.)

☆ "Yun.."

☆ "Is it because I didn't spend the day with you? I probably should've have, shouldn't I.. I didn't mean to be a bad boyfriend.. I'm more accustomed to training on days off and-"

☆ And of course you have to kiss his cheek and talk him down because he won't stop worrying.

☆ "I'm so sorry Yun. And I do love you."

☆ The light pink dusting his cheeks makes the pang in your chest lighter as you pull the blankets up to cover you. (Not him cause heat.)

☆ "I am thankful you were just pranking me." He mutters into your collarbone. "But next time if you do can you just do it the way Xingqiu does instead?"

☆ If you love him at all you will never do that shit again.

Scaramouche

☆ He's surprisingly spontaneous with how infrequently he'll tell you he loves you. Someday's he'll say it when he first sees you and then again at night. Other days you won't hear the phrase uttered at all.

☆ To be fair It's always a little shocking to hear how easily those words come to him no matter how long the relationship has gone on for.

☆ He's just sort of laying in your lap when you decide to test him. His head cradled by your thighs. Your hands carding sections of his hair away from his closed eyes.

☆ A little sigh falls off his lips before those affectionate words fall off his lips. You opt for pure silence however. Keeping a blank expression as best as possible as his eyes soon fixate on you from his spread out angle.

☆ "Didn't you hear me?" He asks

☆ "Hmm?"

☆ His hand reaches up to take your wrist, "I said, I love you."

☆ "Ok, heard you loud and clear." You give him a thumbs up.

☆ You only get a split second view but his grimace is instantly noticeable. "You can be so annoying sometimes."

☆ "Scara wait!" You can't hide your giggles as you trot along behind him but he doesn't even bother to stop walking.

☆ Don't worry he's already accepted your apology. He just really hates your little pranks.

The other woman

part 2

You were overjoyed with your marriage to Aemond, unfortunately for you— he doesn’t feel the same way. You will always be the other woman.

Inspired by Lana Del Rey’s song The other woman.

warnings: incest (Uncle and Niece) angst, Aemond being a shit husband.

—

“Hmm” Your husband barely replies, an unamused look on his face as you make small talk with him over supper. You find his lack of response slightly embarrassing, feeling your cheeks warm as you try to ignore the eyes around the table that observe the both of you interact. They have pity in theirs, aware of the bitter treatment you’ve been receiving from the prince since you were wed four months ago.

It was one solely based on duty, for your family name and to keep the bloodline strong, both your parents agreed to the marriage. You were ecstatic upon hearing the news of your betrothed. You had always admired your uncle, dreaming of one day being wed to him, you had always felt in your heart that there would be no better match for you than Aemond.

Aemond couldn’t have felt any more different. He felt trapped and bound for eternity in a marriage he didn’t want nor ask for, he was forced into it by his parents and sister— caving into their excuses of wanting the best for the family. He had a love he wished to wed already waiting for him, his sweet Alys, whom he would never be able to call wife or bear children with now that he was married to you. Until mere months ago he had viewed you only as his niece and nothing more, now he didn’t know how to view you. He was certain about one thing though and that was that you were not the woman he wanted.

“My love..” Your words are soft as you speak to him, hoping to make it less obvious to your family you were yet again trying to spark conversation.

“I told you not to call me that. Are your ears in good shape or are you just an imbecile?” Aemond’s words cut through you like a blade, his tone causing a lump to grow in your throat. You hated how sensitive you’ve always been, you needed thicker skin if you were to survive this marriage.

My love

Alys called him that, he had chastised you for using the term before — explaining to you why he wished for you not to say those words again. They were hers for him alone, it was a painful reminder for him of the woman he longed for, the one he couldn’t have. The one that was robbed from him and shipped away to what felt like the other ends of the earth.

“I apologise, dear husband. It was a mistake” You say, trying your hardest not to let your voice tremble as you speak. He scoffs, downing the wine in his goblet before he continues his assault.

“Utter those words to me again and I will sever your tongue” He spits at you, words even more venomous that the ones before. You hear Alicent drop her cutlery, a disapproving look on her face as she chastises her son.

“Aemond— how dare you speak to your wife as such”

Everything around you becomes a blur, you block out the sounds of his mother and the way he argues back— claiming that you’re his wife and he can deal with you as he wishes. You wish nothing more than to just disappear from this table, from Kings landing itself. To get as far away from your husband as you could, you missed your own home with your loving parents and siblings.

“Excuse me for a moment” You say, voice barely heard before you push out of your seat and excuse yourself from the table. With your head low, you exit the room, the humid air causing you to hyperventilate once you’re hit with the fresh air in the hall. You can finally breathe, no longer feeling the pressure of Aemond beside you. You didn’t realise how uneasy he made you feel, only now that you were away from him you were able to relax your muscles and take deep breaths to calm your nerves.

You don’t bother to return to the dining room and instead quietly make your way back to your shared bedchamber. Uncertain of whether or not your husband would return to you tonight, you change into your night wear and lay down. Your eyes are shut but you can’t sleep, your thoughts and worries plague your mind as you attempt to lull yourself into slumber. You hope to be fast asleep when Aemond returns, if he does, to avoid having to face him.

He stumbles in hours later, reeking of wine and vhagar’s scent— he hums a tune of some sort as he shuffles around, lazily throwing his clothing onto the floor.

Great he’s drunk.

Despite his obnoxious noises, you remain unbothered as you pretend to sleep, your back turned to him and your eyes still shut as you wait for him to undress and get into bed. You expect silence from him, his usual behaviour even on nights when he’s dead sober. You used to excuse his cold attitude from being too exhausted from his duties to wish you goodnight. Now you know he didn’t have any words to share with you, he could barely stand the thought of sharing his nights with you.

“My sweet wife, are you awake?” His voice soft and smoother than honey, a tone you weren’t used to. He wasn’t being short with you for once and it confused you.

You feel his hand caress down your side, sighing heavily he pulls the sheet back and slips into the space behind you. His warmth radiates against your skin as he presses up against you more personally now, his arm circling your waist and face nuzzled into the back of your hair.

“You smell divine” He hums in satisfaction, hand grazing the skin of your exposed stomach. Although you knew he was drunk, his touches felt good and you tried to savour it for as long as you could— even with the knowledge of how ingenuion his actions were right now.

“I am sorry for how I treated you tonight, that was not— that was not husbandly of me” He stutters out, the first time you’ve ever heard any of his words sound imperfect. His strong facade never faltered with you, with what little words he did share with you he was always so sure about how he spoke to you, it was you who was always a mess.

“Forgive me, my love” He hums, placing soft kisses into your hair as his hand caresses your skin lovingly. For once you feel a small smile grace your lips, his sweet words causing you to feel emotional.

All you ever wanted was his love. For him to treat you with the utmost care and for you both to finally find love in this marriage of yours, no matter how rocky the beginning may have been. Your only wish was for him to love you the way you love him, to hear him utter the three words you once said to him but never received back. Only then could you die a happy woman.

You almost cave in to the urge of breaking your silence and turning around to face your husband. You want to kiss him, caress his face as you confess how long you’ve been waiting for him to treat you so delicately. His touch full of love and care rather than the coldness you’ve grown accustomed to.

“I love you, Alys”

His words cause your stomach to drop, tears burning in your eyes that were now open and facing the panels on the wall beside you. Aemond repeats his words again, wincing slightly you shut your eyes tight and wait for him patiently to fall into a drunken sleep.

He was never talking to you. Those sweet words he just uttered moments ago were meant for his true love, Alys— not you.

The realisation makes you shut your eyes tight, tears shedding from them and trailing down your cheeks freely as you try to comfort yourself. Aemond falls asleep with his arm around your waist and face nuzzled into your shoulder, he feels so close but so far away from you.

He will never be yours

You repeat in your head like torture as you lull yourself to sleep, finally being able to rest with the finalisation that you were always going to be the other woman.

Anniversary

(Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader)

“May I request for a scenario where darling tries to surprise yandere scaramouche for a celebration? I want to know how you think his reaction may be like .3.” -Anon

I’ve had this request written out in my google docs for months and couldn’t find the original ask on Tumblr when I came to finally post it. For those who don’t know, Scaramouche is a character from Genshin Impact, but you could also read him as a whumper in the context of this drabble. I definitely wrote him like one. 

CW: Forced marriage, captivity, possessive whumper, unhealthy relationship dynamics, stockholm syndrome, hot and cold whumper

Surprising Scaramouche for a celebration? Good luck. He’s one of the most aware and controlling yanderes there is, so getting anything past him will require a lot of planning. Whenever you ask for anything from the Fatui-trained maids who take care of your daily routine, they immediately report it to The Balladeer. But, it’s still possible…

Today marks the second anniversary of your marriage to Scaramouche. He was never one to keep track of these things. When you’re not alone in your room or doing your permitted hobbies, you are by his side like a loyal pet. Why celebrate a special occasion when every day can be treated as such? But you have kept track of each day since you were forcefully led to the altar. And as each month passes, your memories of that day become more rose-tinted.

You almost forget the tears in your eyes as your hair was styled and dress fitted. Prim and perfect just how Scaramouche likes. Your makeup made you look like a Marionette puppet, but you saw how your future husband’s eyes lit up the moment you began to walk down the aisle, a Pyroslinger’s gun pointed at your back to dissuade you from acting up. You were desirable, beautiful, made in the image of your captor. Back then, you still had an instinct for self-preservation. That’s why you only said “I do” after a warning shock to remind you of your place.

That instinct for self-preservation was slowly replaced by an instinct for survival. You didn’t want any more warning shocks, no more guns pointed to your back. So you did anything you could to avoid them, even if that meant giving into your delusional husband’s whims. You learned how to read the Harbinger’s emotions, worded your sentences carefully to hide your true feelings, and even began to desire his affection.

You could only take the risk and hope for the best.

He and Pierro have been busy plotting something big lately; you don’t care much for the Fatui or their schemes, and Scaramouche tends to get angry when talking about work, so it’s a subject you tend to avoid. You use the extra alone time to ask a few favors. Discrete ones, and always separately to avoid The Balladeer’s suspicion, like flowers, groceries and minor decorations. You stash these items away upon delivery.

You’ve been especially “well behaved” lately, so you hope your good favor will outweigh breaking his endless and ever-changing rules. Plus, it’s a present for him! He can’t be too angry…right?

You manage to cook a festive meal and prepare your private living area for the occasion. Now, all you could do was wait…

~

Scaramouche knows something is up the moment that he enters his estate. The Fatui on guard look like they’re hiding something, averting their gaze more than they should and fidgeting with the hems of their uniforms. Even though they assure the Harbinger that nothing is amiss, Scaramouche can’t shake the feeling of unease.

He doesn’t quite know how to react when instead of an escaped darling, he finds a whole feast. The room has been lit with scented candles. The table is set just how he likes, Inazuman foods had been shipped to his home and prepared to perfection, and the necessary equipment for a tea ceremony is set in the center, ready to accompany the meal. You twiddle your thumbs in anticipation for his reaction. After a moment, he laughs, mocking and dangerous. “What’s this? I don’t remember you ever being this obedient for me, doll.” The oh-so-familiar darkness flashes across his eyes like a bolt of lightning. You’re already on thin ice. “What did I tell you about being direct with your wants?”

“I don’t want anything right now, My Lord.” When he doesn’t look convinced, you press. Luckily, you had already prepared what you would say, an unfortunate habit you picked up out of a desire to stay on your husband’s good side. “Today is the anniversary of our marriage. I wanted to show you my progress and prepare a celebratory meal. That’s all, I swear.”

He pauses for a moment, reading your expression as much as you read his. Being in a relationship with Scaramouche often feels like being in a constant game of telepathic chess. Constantly trying to strategize and predict the other’s moves so that you lose as few pawns and pieces as possible. At least, that was your goal.

The static in the room dissipates, and Scaramouche’s expression changes again, from paranoid to amused. “You’re so… sentimental.” He says it laced with poison, as if being genuinely romantic were an insult. But there’s also a sense of wonder, in the way that he looks at you as if you’re an adorable puppy bringing over a stick.

You’re used to his thinly veiled insults by now. You shrug it off, leading him over to a cushion by the table. “If anything, you should be the sentimental one, seeing as you couldn’t help but bring me here.” 

The Balladeer’s shoulders tense and you mentally curse your loose tongue. Your husband knew full well that he had forced you into this marriage, so that wasn’t why his smile stiffened in response. He believed that his emotions were a weakness, a defect that caused him to be rejected by his creator. You instinctively backtrack. “This is…just how I show my love for you, My Lord. You have your ways, and I have mine.” The dangerous glint in his eyes fades away, and so do your nerves. 

You move to pour him a glass of freshly brewed sake. He takes it with a smirk. “It looks like my lessons finally sunk in,” He chuckles again, giving you that patronizing look. “Took you long enough.”

You can expect that Scaramouche will want the full anniversary treatment more often in the future.

NOOOOO I'M TAKING HIM WITH ME I'M TAKING HIM WITH ME OR I'M STAYING

Aether and Lumine can drag their asses back to Tevyat if they wanna see their older sib again because I'm staying with Wanderer 😭 give that puppet a tiny kiss

(from this and this!) the fact you chose him out of your own siblings—him, the discarded puppet who was never enough. you could have chosen to stay for one of the archons, for the people and the gods you’ve helped. hell, even one of the multitude of friends you’ve made in your travels across teyvat, but the fact that you chose him? he doesn’t quite believe it, ears ringing and heart stuttering as he asks you if you could repeat what you said. and you smile indulgently, ever so soft, ever so sweet, ever so you that he can’t help himself from falling all over again when you say, “of course i’m not leaving, silly. i promised i’d stay, didn’t i?”

he stumbles, nearly trips on his own feet as he rushes to throw himself at you, burying his face in your shoulder as he cries in relief. and you hold him, unbothered by the wetness gathering in your clothes, strong arms secured around him—real, just like the fact that you’re staying with him. staying for him.

and oh, he realizes, welcoming the warmth in his chest, this is what it means to love someone.

The Gentle Samurai

Kaedehara Kazuha X AFAB! Reader

Summary: Kazuha was a gentle man.. and he loved to show it. Gentle doesn’t always mean plain.

WARNINGS!: soft dom! Kazuha, fingering, squirting

Category: Smut 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 900+

A/N: I love Kazuha pls Kazuha come home so I can stare at you

Keep reading

Title: Clipped Wings.

Pairing: Yandere!Ayato x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Obsessive Behavior and Implied Imprisonment.

Ayato thought he might’ve loved you most, in moments like this.

Quiet and still, tucked safely into his bed, your eyes shut and your breathing steady and your body curled into his side. Your clothes had been left elsewhere, most likely in a heap on the floor or splayed across some inconsequential piece of furniture, allowing your skin to press against his without barriar, and he did what he could to savor your warmth without disturbing you, without doing anything to change the way your head rested on his chest or how your arms wrapped around his midriff – your hold on him growing tighter as you rested.

You were beautiful, exhausted and at peace, and he knew you’d be beautiful in the morning, too, as your rubbed the sleep from you eyes and buried your face in his neck, and the next day, when you’d take him by the hand and drag him off to do something that you’d never done before, whether that meant venturing into Inazuma City for another night of saké and street food or convincing an easily-swayed captain to ferry you over to Kannazuka Island to chase after vague rumors of abandoned mines and dead gods left to rot. Off to do something new, whatever that happened to entail.

If he had his way, this would last forever. Just the two of you, caught up in each other’s embrace, waiting for morning to come with a tempered sort of excitement. Together, with you by his side and him by yours, until the Gods eroded into nothing and all of Teyvat ceased to be.

Hah.

As if you would ever be so merciful.

You’d been clear about your intentions from the start. An adventurer, you’d called yourself, despite your refusal to associate with any recognizable guild or clan – a thrill-seeker travelling with the sole intention of seeing everything and doing everything. You’d been so blunt, admitting that you’d only come to Inazuma by chance, openly regarding his title and his disposition as little more than eccentricities to be examined and adored until something else, something more interesting came along. He was sure you would’ve loved Ayaka’s modest valiance, fawned over Thoma and all his many contradictions, but Ayato thought it would be wise to keep you to himself, for the time being. To protect his own pride, if not to draw out the remnants of your fleeting attention.

You were like a bird of the isles, flitting from place to place, satisfied never to build a nest of your own. Tonight, you might be content to perch yourself on his shoulder, to sing your sweetest song for him and no one else, but the moment something more rare, something more captivating, something more interesting caught your eye, you’d be off, looking for another place to roost – all while Ayato faded into little more than a distant memory. If you'd even remember him at all.

You’d been honest enough about that, too, speaking at length about all your many ‘friends’ in distant nations, comparing his estate to the sprawling manors of Mondstadt and the shinning chambers floating above Liyue’s harbor. You were happy to find yourself in his bed now, sure, and he had no doubt that you held some form of fondness for him when he felt your fingers in his hair and your lips on his, but already, he knew you were making other plans, wondering aloud if they accepted weary travelers on Watatsumi Island or how difficult it would truly be to make the acquaintance of the priestess of the Grand Narukami Shrine. He knew it was only your nature, that you meant him no harm by planning your departure so plainly, but he couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit hurt. He couldn’t help but feel like his precious songbird was simply biding its time, waiting for an opprotunity abandon him.

A small, prying part of him was tempted to panic, to rush, to try and hold your attention for just a few more days, whether he had to plan an impromptu festival or burn the Almighty Shogun’s palace to the ground with his own two hands. If he gave you something to do, if he made sure you were well-occupied and, more importantly, well-entertained, then you might stay, might continue to let him bask in your bright laughter and sun-like warmth for just a while longer. It was a childish kind of hope, born of an adolescence with too little company and too many burdens. He knew better than to think it would be so easy. He knew better than to think that simply delaying your withdrawal would make it any less painful.

No, no. Ayato wasn’t so naïve. Ayato knew this wouldn't be so simple.

Ayato knew that, even with the most guilded cage he was able to provide, his songbird would still eventually fly away from him, and he'd be the one left longing for your music.

A longing he knew, already, that he wouldn't be able to endure.

You stirred as he sat up, but your eyes remained closed and you didn’t wake up. With no small amount of hesitation, he called out to the man he knew would be on the other side of his bedroom door – just where Ayato had asked him to be, should he make up his mind about just what to do with you before sunrise. “Thoma?”

There was a slight delay, a muffled voice. "Lord Kamisato?”

“Find a healer. Bring them to my door and keep them on standby, but don’t let anyone in until I tell you to do so.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Ayato waited until Thoma's footsteps were completely out of earshot, then raised his right hand - watching as a thin stream of water climbed his wrist, curled around his fingertips, and began to take shape in the palm of his hand. Such literal hydro manifestations had never been his specialty, but he was willing to push the limits of his abilities, if only for a few minutes. And a blade was such a simple tool, made to fill such a simple role – even the most inexperienced of vision users should’ve been able to summon one at will. He was sure he could manage, for your sake.

After all, the was only one way to truly keep a songbird caged, and that was to remove its wings entirely.