Happy Birthday, Wanderer!

m.list/rules

✧ Hello everyone on my acc, before you subscribe to me I want to say and warn that there will be NSFW content here, as well as ANGST, sometimes I will post funny things and pictures from Pinterest / share cases from my life. English is not my native language (in general, I'm Russian girl lol) and I use a translator, so if you find errors in the text, let me know!

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WHAT I CAN WRITE

✧ Yandere characters

✧ fem!reader and fem!characters

✧ Dark Content [ Sans the topics listed in the next category. ]

✧ Reader Insert

✧ Gender Neutral Reader

✧ Oneshots/Scenarios/Headcannons

✧ Poly relationships [ why not?]

✧ Fluff/Comfort

✧ Hurt/Comfort

✧ NSFW

✧ Reader with a certain personality trait [ e.g. shy, cold ]

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE

✧ Suicide. No? just no.

✧ Male Reader. Sorry guys, but I will write exclusively about a female reader.

✧ I will absolutely not write for incest / stepcest, p*dophilia (obvs 💀), scat/piss kink, daddy kink, ddlg, petplay. I will add more based on changes.

✧ I absolutely won't write for any character who carries the appearance of a child regardless of age (ex, qiqi, nahida, etc) cause it's disgusting.

✧ Omegaverse (do I need to explain?)

CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

[ The names in bold signify characters that I'm most interested in writing.]

──── ✧ GENSHIN IMPACT

✧ al haitham, scaramouche/wanderer, dottore, shikanoin heizou, kaedehara kazuha, aether, dainsleif, kinich, diluc, cyno, zhongli, , kaveh, neuvillette, wriothesley, il capitano, arlecchino, navia , lumine , nin guang , raiden ei.

✧ please feel free to ask questions (if you've followed all my rules)

✧please try to understand, I'm new to writing, assnd serious topics will be hard for me to write,

✧ please be patient, I need a lot of time to write something, and check for errors, and formatting!

✧ I may not go to Tumblr for some time, thereby ignoring requests, this is due to my school debts(..

MY COMPLATED WORKS

✧ ARLECCHINO

burn for me - arlecchino and fem reader 18+

✧ IL DOTTORE

dottore with wife! reader 18+

✧ WANDERER

wanderer ˗ oh sweet girl.. 18+

̗wanderer - yandere

wanderer - that beautiful night 18+

✧ BALLADEER

yandere scaramouche - your gentle madness pt 1 pt 2

scaramouche - you are a light of eyes of mine

✧YOU HAVE ENTERED TEYVAT

you got into teyvat

✧ HEADCANONS

headcanon - his kisses (wriothesley,neuvillette,Kinich,wanderer,razor)

✧ VOICE LINES - ABOUT Y/N

voice lines - about you (wanderer, ayato, tartaglia, albedo, dainsleif)

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SPECIAL COLLECTION NSFW ALPHABET WITH YOUR LOVERS! (the list of characters will be updated)

✧ WANDERER - NSFW ALPHABET

✧ DOTTORE - IN WRITING..

✧ SCARAMOUCHE - NSFW ALPHABET

I do not allow using, copying, publishing and translating my fanfics on other sites!

fr

˗ˏˋ ꒰ LABORATORY GAMES꒱ ˎˊ˗ Il dottore

Dottore decided to pamper his dear wife right in the laboratory

✧ warnings — NSFW, petting, wife ! assistant ! reader, dottore being loving , detailed description of genitals, no "pussy" "tits" etc.a bit non-canonical dottore (but I tried lol) ✧ minors do not interact. !! ✧ a/n — AAHHHH he's so hot, so elegant, but he scares me..

Dottore, taking you by the hands, escorts you and seats you in his chair. He leans on the armrests and hangs over you, leaning forward to kiss. Again, sweetly, with the desire for your lips, with feeling, relaxed. It seems to you that only he kisses like this - so imbued with the moment, so pleasantly.. You have long been convinced of this, now you only see confirmation.

For convenience, he puts his knee on the edge of the seat, between your legs. You hug him, raising your hands high, touch his shoulders, run your fingers along them and take hold of the edge of his black shoulder straps on his chest, wanting to feel your husband even closer. The chair awkwardly wobbles from side to side because of the hinge in the mount and the wheels on the stand. And it seems that one of you does not like this at all.

The harbinger moves away, stands up straight and, without asking you anything, moves the seat and its back to the table. It comes out somehow even rudely, you grin hysterically, seeing the strangely serious expression on your partner's face even behind his mask. And he is near you again, puts his palm in a black patent leather glove with blue palms on your thin neck, presses his thumb under your chin, lifting your face. The doctor kisses you again, but not for long, goes down and gives attention to your neck, pleasantly touching it with his lips. There are pale scars from his teeth on your shoulders. He still does not spare you. Unbuttons your shirt, doing everything even too quickly. Dottore is incredibly patient, you know, but… Now with you is not the same person with whom you spoke ten minutes ago.

"Maybe you have any bright preferences?" - He asks and with the nose of his beak mask outlines your cheekbone, tickling..

"Uh… I don't know…" - you feel awkward talking about this, that's all.

"Shyness is the enemy of debauchery. Flower." - he whispers in your ear, instantly spreading crowds of goosebumps on your shoulders.

"Don't you want to feel the best of what you can get?" — a soft and usually wet tongue runs along the shell of your reddened ear, it gets hotter..

"Dottore.. I…" - you are gently taken by the jaw and turned away, not letting you finish. He understood perfectly well what exactly of his actions turns you on, it was your whole body that betrayed you. The body-traitor, unconsciously giving an impulse to the fingers that yours squeeze the robe on someone else's shoulders.. The way you tremble and breathe heavily..

The doctor obviously knows well how the body works and reacts, and it is easier to read you than to read the title of a book. Now he is not interested in your curves, he needs a reaction. The essence of your desires, to understand who you are beyond common sense. To get to the truth, to the deepest plan, intentions. His "love" shifts to the collarbones, now open to the man. His butterfly kisses cover your bust, while his palms make their way to the belt. It is stuffy under your wet shirt, feelings are revealed anew when the scientist's fingers touch your back. You arch your chest forward, ribs become clearly visible, while Dottore unfastens your bra.

(And yet, when deeply in love, petting and sex are many times more pleasant than in other situations.)

A slight movement - Your bra is pulled up, your breasts are perfectly visible to your partner, who is trying hard not to examine you in too much detail so as not to embarrass you. Shame, shame after all.

One of your breasts is carefully squeezed in his palm, feeling it in a way that pleases you. Dottore, in order to restrain his sick impulses and not to scare you away, mentally prayed even to the damned Archons.

The blue-haired man kneels in front of you while you were sitting half-dry on the chair, he comfortably sat between your legs and thanks to his height, he leans towards your body on the chair, licks your areola with a tight movement, which causes a recoil between your already wet thighs, closing his lips he slightly sucks your nipple, pressing his finger on the second. You do not hold back a moan while inhaling, the sexual tension grows by the minute.

Next, your stomach is subject to attack, a weak spot for tickling, from which you twitch, trying to hold back involuntary laughter. The scientist takes your legs and puts them on his shoulders, looking into his eyes through his mask. You thought that it was impossible to blush even more than before? Well, it is very possible.

The heat burns your ears and cheeks. Incredible luck! you are wearing a skirt today… Yes, a skirt with gold inserts and patterns, quite detailed, in the style of Teyvat fashion. But today this skirt will be a provocation.

"What do you want to?…"

"To satisfy you," He enthusiastically turns his head and kisses your knee, not at all embarrassed to talk about what is happening.

You did not dare to answer, control is enough only to watch an interesting show under you. Dottore, having gone a little further with his lips along your limb, bites you, again with a hint of rudeness. Your nylon tights are running, what a bastard! They are expensive..! At the same moment you notice a clear and distinct reaction to what is happening on the scientist's trousers, it becomes somehow completely unbearable for you to sit and endure his.. attacks.

You offendedly let your right leg go from his shoulder, not having received its portion of kisses. The Doctor, not distracted from biting you, turns his gaze to the movement, but quickly turns around. You, looking at his groin, then at his mask, touch his erection with the toe of your foot, press lightly, and hear his sharp sigh. He lifts your pelvis and, taking you by the ankle, leans your foot against himself.

"Hmm, don't fool around, naughty girl" Having slightly come to his senses, the Doctor smiles. — "Come to me."

Of course, you lean over, it is clear why - even more kisses. The Harbinger, now with a clear intention, brazenly kisses your lips. His palm slides along the smooth fabric under your skirt, the hem of the skirt is already lifted due to the position. Now your thigh is crumpled by his long fingers, looking for the waistband of the tights. At the same time, Dottore presses his tongue on your lips, forcing you to open your mouth wider. A new vulgar gesture - the teeth are briefly outlined by the tongue, it moves towards yours. It strokes the roof of the mouth… For a second it seems to you that your husband's tongue is too long. Dottore has found the edge of your clothes, using his other hand he pulls them off you.

"You have a long tongue," you note out loud, already vaguely.

"Why do you think I talk so much?" — an object of interest opens up to your gaze… Archons…

Twice as long as average, together with the teeth it looks even slightly creepy, including unnatural. Your eyes widen, your cheeks are smothered with a blush, Dottore smirks and hides his dignity.

"Just genes"

"You never showed it before…" — You are shocked. What will happen now, Tsaritsa, have mercy…!

"Relax your muscles, just remember how it was the first time, haha.." — But still, the man is so calm and gentle, skillfully seasoning it with pepper of rudeness, that you cannot help but melt from excitement - it is impossible.

And Dottore keeps trying to pull your clothes off. Very intrusively. You are sprawled in a chair, led by your beloved, who, thanks to the position you have adopted, is still doing what he wanted. He is still on his knees, on the floor, between the tables, in an open laboratory, where one wrong move and an overturned flask can injure you both, He is going to satisfy you. What a shame, if someone comes in, you will not survive the shame!

His cold to the point of goosebumps hand, still elegantly covered with the fabric of the glove, touches you through your underwear. Strokes your vulva, slowly, viscously, torments, makes you almost fidget. He is handsome, damn elegant and smart, ideally knows anatomy and therefore understands perfectly what to do with you. Something in your lower abdomen is cramping from such thoughts, especially when he so dominantly and playfully pulls you towards him by your tie.

"Are you satisfied?" He whispers into your ear, you catch yourself thinking again that he sees your sensual gap and is pressing on it right now.

"Yes, but… That's not all, right?" — You insert a short, embarrassed answer, hug your lover's shoulders, he changes the position of his fingers on your external genitals - he puts his fingers on your clitoris, knowing the anatomy perfectly well, he instantly feels the organ.

"Hahaha… No, not all, darling" — His velvety and deep laughter reaches your ears, you involuntarily shrink in your chair.

"Wonderful, What an anatomy you have… Archons!" — He has such a tart whisper that butterflies fly in your stomach…

"You will do what I tell you, right?" —After a pause, you barely shake your head in agreement "Wonderful, my dear. Listen to elders, be a good girl,"

He exhales onto your skin, languidly, completely depravedly, — "How long do you think you'll last? Two? Three times?" — You sob pitifully into Dottore's shoulder, his dexterous fingers keep a clear and almost fast pace on your clitoris, and you are sensitive, especially because of trust. It appeared with the advent of experiments - after them He treated you carefully, honestly. He always felt sorry for you, all this is just for science, you help your beloved, you are ready to do anything for him. It's a pity, it seems so only in a fit of bright emotion.

"We will do everything so that you leave here on shaking legs, okay?" — Playfulness and craving in his tone, especially to warm you up. You feel the rush of pleasant sensation characteristic of an imminent orgasm. There was no need to say anything else, the first extravaganza hit you with a terrifying suddenness. Your fingers turned to stone, clutching the Doctor's robe, your breath caught, you barely breathe, receiving your well-deserved portion of all-consuming pleasure. You whine piteously, throwing your head back, listening to Dottore's approving hum.

What kind of reaction is this? Naturally, an orgasm that will overtake you too quickly to resist the feeling even a little. Dottore sees everything perfectly well and therefore, instead of brazenly interrupting your pleasure, he connects his long tongue, invading your warmth, making you literally jump on the chair, Dottore gently held your hips, forcing you to stay in place. After another thrust of his tongue inside you and massaging your clitoris - quickly brought you to the cherished climax.. You fell tiredly on the chair, throwing your head back.

"A successful and precise position of the fingers, foreplay and its continuation - the best mixture for getting an orgasm.. Don't you think so, darling?"

You should catch your breath for a minute, your partner patiently strokes your thighs, allowing this. He kisses somewhere behind the ear, since you are still hugging him. It's so strange, remembering the past, the end overtook you rarely in the company of a partner… Did the advantage of the profession work, or something else?

"Everything is fine?"

"Yeah… For some reason I feel so ashamed," - Ashamed.. It's because Dottore, during your work, said that sex and the caresses that come from it are disgusting. You generally thought that you would never get such a pastime from him, but fate decreed otherwise.

"No need to be ashamed. I am interested in watching you and participating in your satisfaction," - He cooed as straightforwardly and calmly as always.

"You are probably right. Oh, my leg is so cramped," - You smile embarrassedly and sit up straight, bending and unbending the mentioned part of the body.

"My poor girl, was I too hem, harsh with you?"

His charming voice and the same expression on his face.. And for some reason Dottore still doesn't get up from his knees, still sitting between your depravedly spread legs. You notice this and want to quickly cover your legs together, but Dottore's torso gets in the way.. He notices your nervousness, grins and slowly lifts the mask up.

"Is it okay for you to sit on the floor?" - You adjust your skirt, placing it on your knees.

..

"So we haven't finished our.. little experiment.." His smile is ingratiating, even creepy, he slightly tilts his head up, looking at you with a cloudy gaze, now you can clearly see his red eyes under the slightly raised beak-mask.

"In that case, why should I get up?"

@anantaru @hitomisuzuya @lavandulawrites @himasgod @neuvigroove @quimichi @rsventhesecondd @anemoswirlsmyheart @nil4everheartz @kujiba @genshingorlsrevengeance @shyentsfoundherink @lavandulawrites @ashyashylee @theoutcastwrites

Sharing fanfic updates be like

˗ˏˋ ꒰ HIS KISSES꒱ ˎˊ˗ wriothesley, neuvillette, kinich, wanderer, razor

✧ warnings — none <3

✧ Wriothesley

Kisses with him smell like green tea with jasmine, night air, shadow, coolness. Kisses with Wriothesley are always a little rough. He likes to bite his lips and then kiss them so as not to leave marks.

Most often, your kisses will go lower. Wriothesley will cover the skin of his neck with kisses, lightly bite, leaving light marks on the skin, like a short memory of your meeting, which should definitely be shown.

✧ Neuvillette

Kisses with him smell like sea breeze, sun and sweet fruits. Neuvillette's kisses are always sensual, quick, short, because there is always evening left for long kisses. And for now… for now they remain stolen somewhere between business and a short break.

Neuvillette will always kiss you tenderly, caressing your cheekbones with his fingertips. His touches to you will be fleeting and gentle, but even when you part, they will burn on your skin for several more hours.

✧ Kinich

Kisses with him smell like roses, fresh leaves and tropical rain. Kinich's kisses are always bold. You will be surprised, How can he be alone. Behind the emotionless exterior are stormy emotions controlled by reason. Kissing you, he will press you against the wall. Your kisses will be like explosive emotions: impulsive and wild.

As soon as you are alone, he will not be as attentive to himself as he used to. And you realized that Kinich likes deep kisses far from the corner of the eye.

✧ Wanderer

Kisses with him smell of the wind, the bitterness of dandelions, freedom. The kisses of the Wanderer are weightless and almost always in spite. He will kiss you during victory.

He leaves a short burning mark on the lips when he cannot say something important, in the hope that you will understand without words. He leaves the most loving,long and passionate kisses at night. he will definitely gently hold your hand when he kisses you.

There will always be depth of feelings in his kisses, because only in this way will he be able to express them fully. More and more often, he will kiss you on the forehead. Goodbye, before bed. And that will mean more to you than anything he could say.

✧ Razor

Kissing him smells like wild berries, thunder and rain. Kissing Razor is a real pain in the ass, because at first he won't understand what the point is. You'll find out that Razor has never actually kissed anyone before. And you'll have to take the initiative yourself.

When you're alone, lost somewhere in the Valley of the Winds, you'll walk closer to him and take his hands.

For a few seconds, you'll look into each other's eyes, and a wave of emotion will flash through Razor's gaze: excitement, fear of failure, completion. Your lips will touch: softly, gently, and you'll feel him shudder slightly from the touch. So unusual, so desirable for him.

˗ˏˋ ꒰THAT BEAUTIFUL NIGHT꒱ ˎˊ˗ wanderer

✧ warnings — MDNI !! smut , fem !! reader , gentle sex/sex with feelings, a bit dirty at the end a/n — I'm so sorry I was absent for so long.. School is killing me. And what about my fanfic with yandere scaramouche.. The next chapter will probably come out after the session ? Before I warn you that there may be translation errors...enjoy ✧ minors do not interact. !!

They say that it is partners who truly love: a mother loves you because it is her duty as a parent; a son will love you because you are a mother; your pet loves you because you feed it and shelter it in your home…

And only your partner loves you despite all the shortcomings and imperfections. Simply because he chose you.

But why did he choose you? Why did he open up his feelings again, which he once buried inside himself, to some mortal lady like you?.. Apparently the Archons decided to play a cruel joke on him again.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by a hoarse, familiar voice, which flows as calmly as a summer rain outside the window. He plops you down on the bed and lies down next to you on one side.

"Now relax."

You feel the cold lips of the wanderer when he leaves a timid kiss on your cheek.

—"let me caress you a little…"

— "Wanderer… enough…"

"hmh.…" - Wanderer slides a cold indigo gaze over you as he begins to unbutton your blouse. You watch the shine of his blue hair that shimmers aesthetically under the moonlight in the room. The Wanderer tenderly begins to cover your hot chest with gently kisses: from the collarbone, right along the solar plexus, then begins to cover your stomach with cold kisses, slowly, timidly even, until he descends to your groin…he painfully slowly kisses your clitoris, through the thin fabric of your panties making you let out a quiet squeal, he circles it with his tongue and kisses, he twisted these actions until he felt your wet crotch.

Puppet notices how you are shaking, he rises to you,smiles slightly at the weakness of the human body and at the same moment helplessly presses himself against you to share the warmth of his own body, but you do not feel the warmth. His skin is cold, smooth, as if not alive… When your skin is warm, human like , elastic.

"Mine, mine…" - The Wanderer whispers to himself, as if he is convincing himself. So quietly that even if he were saying it into a microphone, no one would hear him anyway. But you heard what he said only because you know all his habits.

We have no one else except each other to know someone else's habits.

You know that every morning he drinks bitter tea on the balcony, watching the passers-by in Sumeru, drowning in his thoughts about the past, which is stained with black spots and mysteries. You know that all his sharp as a knife words are in no way compatible with his true feelings for you, a love that is deeper than the roots of any tree, even deeper than the roots of Irminsul…

You know that he never takes his eyes off you, always staying close like a calming shadow, he is always close, protecting, defending. He has survived three betrayals, and if you leave him, he will definitely turn the whole of Teyvat inside out, even though he promised you that he left his cruel past behind.

…

The puppet fiddles with the clothes on your body that are bothering him, when you turn your head to the window: evening, rain, slush, the thirties of August.

What could be worse than the end of summer and warm days? Probably only the end of the deepest feelings.

Wanderer frantically strokes your waist, hips, lower back, but he himself has not undressed, firmly intending to please only you. You close your eyes when he carefully directs his thin gloved hand down, under the blanket, this prankster knows that you are ashamed to do such things without a blanket..

The former harbinger leans his forehead to yours and tenderly kisses your lips, gradually picks up the pace with his hands, involuntarily causing you to gasp, bordering on pleasure. your beloved, does not allow himself to be rude, only softly but assertively moves one hand inside you, with the other he gently caresses your cheek, your head is spinning from the contrast of the cold of his skin, and at the same time the passion that you rarely get to see. What a romantic wanderer can be..

He presses himself close to you, too close, his hand cupping your cheek. The puppet whispers caresses in your ear, admiring you and your body, not missing the slightest tremor of yours. He always paid special attention to your "luxurious hair" - You can't even find an explanation for this. He always said that your hair is his weakness. The wanderer deftly bends his fingers inside you, when you barely squeal from the pressure. He smiles contentedly.

And here is another kiss, demanding, dominant but soft, like a light breeze. He pulls away and chuckles.

"Spread." - The wanderer says briefly and sternly when he notices how you try to bring your trembling legs together and run away from the pleasure that he generously gives you.

You shudder slightly from his abrupt change in tone, he seems to notice your surprise and squints his eyes, quietly chuckling with satisfaction when you, without thinking twice, slightly spread your legs, he ran a gentle glance at the exposed flesh between your legs and you again bury your face in his shoulder when his fingers again continued their rhythm, bringing you to the edge again and again.

"Stop being so reserved.My job is to satisfy you, yours - is to get pleasure. So be a good girl and keep moaning for me like that. More, love? "

"Mhm..Yes please.. "

His hands tightly squeezed your hair, while you buried your face in his shoulder in an attempt to muffle a moan. Over time, his fingers began to move more intensely and deeper, until a third finger was added, forcing you to scream and whine with satisfaction, while his hand still tightly squeezed your head, holding you in place.

Finally, you moan indecently loudly, the pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your young body trembles with pleasure. You lick your plump, bite-filled lips, squeezing your eyes tightly. Your thighs tremble as you release your pleasure right onto the puppet's fingers. He hums softly but contentedly, letting go of your hair and pressing his lips to your hot forehead before his fingers slowly slip out of you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Yandere Genshin Men Memes

Repost since I managed to delete it

I was bored so I decided to make some yandere genshin men memes(^з^)-☆ (this is just for fun and they’re meant to be silly and stupid)

God this is so dumb＿|￣|○

Masterlist

(Ignore how the fonts are different)

body painting with flowers man

only with you.

angst & comfort. gn!reader × wanderer. wc 1.7k

summary. non-sexual nudity & intimacy; body painting with flowers; recollection of past events (wanderer).

sumeru is a dualistic region. where knowledge and reincarnation richly seep through every concept there is, it would still not exist without any ignorance, nor destruction. one needs another to thrive. 

wanderer himself is a dual man—a human being without an organic heart yet a puppet with feelings. somebody, who had multiple names throughout. somebody, who once had a mother; friends. somebody, who was given a midway place in this world across his journey. as a wanderer, he is said to have no name, kin, or destination.

maybe there is a definite reason for him to spend the majority of his time in sumeru after all. as he originated from inazuma, a land of isolated eternity, spent years at the claws of the notorious nation of snezhnaya and—seeking his ascension to godhood, eventual prosperity, and validation at last—was forced into flimsy redemption in sumeru.

wanderer self-destructed his ignorance to reincarnate it as full of knowledge; to shape his existence anew. all of this for him to question himself and suffer the same.

the sacred tree of the world—irminsul—answered the questions he always sought and yet, he was betrayed once again. wisdom is a heavy burden with a great cost; it could be one’s demise. ignorance to him was, indeed, a bliss. as well as oblivion, which he was stripped of in a little of a while. 

since the day he had to relive his entire lifetime in a minute and earned an anemo vision in the process, the world around him changed. in fact, he met you, who made a significant change to his demeanor. wanderer may not be the best companion there is, however, you both always seek each other in a crowd. even if there is none of it.

the sunset is pretty today, you think as you immerse yourself up to the chin into the lukewarm water underneath the waterfall of gandharva ville. wanderer remained apart from you for a while. he was hesitant. he may have a synthetic body of a puppet, but being stark naked in front of you felt way too vulnerable by his nature. it felt like cutting himself open and letting himself go free.

he was never free to begin with. freedom to each is a different concept. the day the god of eternity sealed his power and hid him like a failure of hers, followed by letting him roam free, he chained his mind to different intentions of ei’s. he felt neglected and deprived of who he was meant to be—not knowing he was a mere prototype, never designed to hold and wield the electro gnosis; whose existence was about to be terminated right before they saw him cry in his sleep—rather than free.

he had no given name nor a home to get back to at the end of the day. so, naturally, when fatui took him under their wings, he felt that being the sixth seat was his rightful place. 

there were many kind people in his early ordinary days of learning how to be human between the time he was discarded and given the title of the balladeer. your way of carrying oneself immensely reminds him of them all. sometimes it can be agonizing to wanderer, but lovely just the same. he reacts to your eyes, inviting him to join you bathing in the stream while the sun slowly sets. 

erstwhile clear water, due to the reflection of the sky, is dyeing itself in colors of yellow, orange, violet, and pink. the river takes its appearance like the flower field around you at once. 

as wanderer takes his clothes off, he is quickly submerging himself into and under the water. it is shallow, so you can swiftly reach his side. you have qualms about whether he would let you come closer, despite that, you carefully stretch your hands towards his shoulders. you sit him up. he has a lot on his mind lately, thus, he lets you take care of him without thinking much. to tell the truth, he trusts you to a great extent, knowing you would catch him if he fell—literally and figuratively. 

you pluck a lone flower from the floral field. it is greenish blue, or rather turquoise, in color. one would rarely see it blossom. the color reminds you of wanderer’s tattoos’ when they glow with power.

you slowly trace them with luminous petals, so it leaves dye markings; barely visible, but you both know it’s there nevertheless. it is a silly activity yet remarkably intimate for either. he does not feel skin contact the same as everyone else, regardless, he gets chills from your delicate brushes.

somehow you do not care about him being born unhuman at all. maybe because in your mind he is the most human one could be—cruel and all the things beautiful at the same time; imperfect. 

you offer him another flower of your favorite color, for him to paint on your bare body as well. he is skeptical, however, it takes only a moment to engage in the act. you shiver every time he tries touching you softly. neither of you talk. 

you warily touch his face then. the pink rose in your frail grip is kissing his cheeks, and nose, consciously avoiding his pursed lips as well as eyes, which are dyed burgundy anyways. the color was indeed deliberately chosen to imitate a blush of sorts. you thought it was cute. 

he is feeling your skin alongside, attentively selecting parts of your body you would be fine with; giving your consent to. it does vary how you react.

you reach for his chest subsequently, holding a flower of opaque red. you are faltering while drawing something. at that moment, he stops his own tracery and retracts his arm further from you; stays still. you painted a little heart on his chest. likewise, you keep looking at it in silence, smiling. 

it was a heart he was able to call his own. 

he remembers. puppet he is, abandoned by the almighty shogun for being overly human, but used as a tool by fatui ever since. in no way they saw a human—whereas he could not die and had an empty space of a heart. how can one be a human being without a heart? his existence contradicted itself in that sense.

as a harbinger, did he become more human then? when a tainted heart he got from the doctor saved him, it was offered to him in the form of the ashes to have in that empty shell of a place. at first, he did not know it was niwa's; that same withered one he discarded after condemning the entire incident as his second betrayal of cruel human nature. a human heart he yearns for is not worth the pain of another person’s death. 

afterward, he sought a gnosis to take that place instead. his luck was one of a kind really. the contentment he became so familiar with, was short-lived in the end. it was not a real heart anyhow. can the anemo vision he recently acquired serve as his vital core replacement?

each time he came into possession of a fill-in for a heart, someone else had to suffer. merely this time, he actually felt you blessed him with a heart he could be endowed with without any anguish. he put his singular hand up to his chest and held it pressed. he was fond of his ephemeral heart. 

you slowly but surely grasp his fingers. the puppet joints over the years looked almost seamless. it evidently looked human-like. you cautiously brush your lips against his knuckles, meeting his violet-blue eyes. do they twinkle—was it mirroring the stirring water on second thought? 

promptly, the serene moment of yours is interfered. you turn your head to unfamiliar hushed tones and humming. there pop up a few heads of plant-like forest spirits. you notice wanderer is gifted to see them as well. 

aranaras are critters, only to be seen by trustworthy dreamers of pure and kind hearts. it is a mystery really—wanderer’s ability to spot them. is he, not a doll without a heart; can he be regarded as good-natured; is he to be trusted… he is not a child either (but acting like one every once in a while). 

thereafter, wanderer stretches his hand toward a bright blue-colored creature, holding a yellow poppy. flowers make aranaras remember their friends whenever they meet. besides, they gain power from memories. do the spirits of sumeru forests lay hold of dreadful recollections as well? wanderer is brimful of them. 

after a while, wanderer looks in your direction. he is deep in thought at the moment, pondering who exactly he is. he does understand the concept of being human pretty well, yet he does have uncertainties about whether he can call himself one, partially at least. he did give up trying to be human in the distant past, though, he had experienced pieces of being human underway—having emotions, enduring pain, having a heart of some form, a place to live, a region to serve, people he called family, and a name. 

truthfully, he had a myriad of names; words he was called by others. he never deemed them his names frankly. nonetheless, he loved himself as kabukimono—the dolly wandering eccentric, perceived as naive and peculiar. deep inside he knows he did not stray far from his roots, it was simply eclipsed by the wounds of his past. 

he did name himself kunikuzushi, the world-destroyer once. alongside was given titles of the balladeer and scaramouche. it should be mentioned that whilst no man on teyvat recalls it being him—he was formerly known as the everlasting lord of arcane wisdom; shouki no kami, the prodigal, too. 

attempting erasure of himself, including rectifying past events that his existence, and rage-driven deeds caused, wanderer reincarnated into someone as curious as the young kabukimono. he opted for calling himself a wanderer. was he an eccentric one this time on top of that? at the end of the day, it all comes full circle. 

at present, he does go by a freshly given name, restraining himself with a new psyche all while making an effort to atone for his sins. he accepted his birth, not to mention, the entirety of his past. 

he looks all around his own porcelain-like skin, currently dyed with multiple colors. it tugs at his heartstrings. he does glance at your body then, admiring the art, positioned in front—meaning you, not the mindless drawings of flowers’ pigments on your figure. 

hence, he finally feels like he has reached the promised divinity. only whenever he is with you.

MY MAN

Late birthday post for my boy, wanderer (love him, main him, cried for him)

I’m not sure if I can say it’s suggestive; more like non sexual nudity?? okay, maybe a little bit, but really sweet Just wanted to point that out so no one is surprised

gn reader

Soft skin meets porcelain. Warmth lands onto that cold body of his. It’s weird, but somehow, he feels welcomed. With every motion of his hands, you feel like you’re about to be devoured. There’s something endearing in that, though. How gentle he is, yet also bold. It earns a chuckle from you.

When that freezing feeling reaches a certain spot, you shudder. He stops. Eyes laced with worry meet yours. A silent reminder of care. “It’s fine, you can go on” and so he does. Your hands wrap around his waist, to steady yourself. Uneven breaths tickle his neck, you never feel his. It all feels eerily.

He leans in, beautiful eyes staring at you, with that pleading expression you rarely see. You let him, eagerly welcoming that sweet feeling of his lips on yours. It’s the only time you feel his body heat. Deeper and deeper, he ventures, as if you’re some unknown land. Hands roam, with so much devotion even the quietest whispers can’t convey.

For a moment, there’s no friction between you. That human body of yours yearns for more, but patiently waits for the puppet’s choice. With that smile, you seem like a god in his eyes. A god he once tried to be, a goal he hoped to achieve with so much effort put, and so little practice of how to be one. You didn’t need it; you don’t need a gnosis, a perfect body (which you do have, in his humble opinion), a whole palace meant for you, you don’t need anything at all. Just one follower who’d die for your happiness - that is, him. How ironic; faithful followers is what he needed the most (even if he saw them as pests), and now he is that, which he hated the most - someone in love.

Warm skin melts with porcelain, like a candle. Two people turn into one in a dance of gentle love and passion. “Happy birthday. I love you always, and forever. Remember that, okay?” He loved you twice as much.

how to be Child