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scaranation · 1 year

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༊*·˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒’ 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐓

header art by @/kkaags on twitter

Pairing: chess captain!Ayato x reader

Content: fluff, headcannons, modern high school au, ayato is slightly a red flag on this one

You joined the chess club as a newcomer to the game, where Ayato introduces himself as a fellow beginner. You think he's just terrible at chess - after all, how could he lose to you so often? However, as time goes on, you begin to question if you're the one who's been playing into his hands all this time...

a/n - was just rereading ayato lore and remembered he plays chess, so i wanted to write about him doing it in a modern chess setting where he's absolutely whipped for the reader 😭 i cant stop writing about desperate genshin men im so sorry

chess captain!ayato, who’s been harbouring a small crush on you ever since you stepped foot in campus. despite taking different classes, you’d always be the centre of his attention, even if you rarely interacted with him.

chess captain!ayato, who’s elated to see you join the club. the moment you confess to being a beginner, he flashed you a smile before asserting that he, too, was new to the game.

chess captain!ayato, who revelled in the gleeful look on your face whenever you won a game against him. he’d take care to fumble right into your victory each time, just to feel his heart flutter when you smiled.

chess captain!ayato, who’d play exactly as you wanted when you tried book moves for the first time. oh, you were attempting a scholar’s mate? he’d ‘accidentally’ fall right into the trap, feigning shock as you smugly pushed your queen to F7.

chess captain!ayato, who ignored the incredulous looks everyone else shot him when he blundered his way through every game with you. as a highly accomplished player - winning all the tournaments he competed in - it certainly was a sight to see the kamisato ayato open with pawn to H4.

chess captain!ayato, who would only play at his true level when you weren’t looking. his favourite hobby was to push the worst move possible and watch your thinly veiled happiness as you won yet again, pretending to be annoyed when you teased him for his ‘stupidity’.

chess captain!ayato, who would leave ayaka to run the club as his vice captain whenever he was busy in a game with you. he enjoyed the expression on your face as you thought, the light twitching of your lips to murmur ghostly syllables to yourself. he liked to imagine how those lips would feel on his.

chess captain!ayato, who would desperately try to prevent you from realising he wasn’t exactly as bad as you thought he was. when you were talking to your friends about how absolutely hopeless he was at chess, he’d shoot them a silencing look to staunch their shocked expressions. if you tried to look up previous records from tournaments, you’d somehow find yourself in conversation with him and forget about what you were doing entirely.

chess captain!ayato, who’d nod eagerly and let you ‘coach’ him in chess. he’d smile so delicately as you bid him good luck before a tournament, whilst everyone else idly wondered why on earth the feared ayato would need help to be reminded of piece value.

chess captain!ayato, who’d be too immersed to notice you if you walked in on him playing a proper game. you’d be stunned at the way his fingers gracefully snapped the pieces into position without hesitation, the subtle clink of lacquered wood against the board reasonating through the room as he claimed piece after piece. he was nothing like the foolish, impulsive player you’d versed countless other times.

chess captain!ayato, who’d study his opponents with an almost terrifying look of sheer calculation. his eyes would skim emotionlessly over the board, lithe hands almost flying between the pieces and the timer. occasionally, a cold smirk or two would escape - indicative of his incoming victory.

chess captain!ayato, who’d look so wounded when you found out - acting like you’d caught him cheating on your non-existent relationship. you’d only feel embarrassed at having thought you were better than this absolute menace of a player, whilst he apologised time and time again before (timidly) asking you to play one more round.

chess captain!ayato, who’d then offer to properly teach you outside of school hours. of course, he didn’t view them as tutoring sessions - he saw them as dates. or, perhaps, just opportunities for him to admire your face until he reached the stage of his plan where he could ask you out, and you’d be too equally infatuated to refuse.

Checkmate.

༊*·˚

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scaranation · 1 year

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hi is it alright if i request modern au kaeya inviting a very introverted and awkward reader to a party he's hosting bc he really likes her and she has her first kiss with him there. thank you <333

yeah it’s been about two months since I got this request… IM GOING TO STOP SLACKING OFF I SWEAR BUT THIS WAS SO GOOD 😭😭

As an introvert myself I feel like writing this was low key projecting but Kaeya’s such a comfort character oml <33

༊*·˚ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

Pairing: Kaeya x Reader

Content: Fluff, shy reader, mentions of alcohol, pining (modern au)

a/n - just realised the last line seems mildly suggestive, it rlly isn’t supposed to be but just interpret it how u want ig 😀😀

You and Kaeya were two very different people. Whilst he was always the centre of attention, the epicentre of every crowd of people, and the object of countless people's affections, you were the one who's name was easily forgotten. He was outgoing, and you went out of your way to avoid interaction. Not because you hated it, but because you were afraid of messing up. That student that greeted everyone good morning when entering the lecture hall? You'd take the other route to prevent embarrassing yourself with a response that was too short, or delivered in the wrong way. You were the type to curb your steps to avoid bumping into someone you knew but weren't comfortable enough to awkwardly walk next to, whilst Kaeya would speed up at the possibility of a conversation.

All in all, it almost seemed as if you two lived in different worlds. He was socially adept, easily making small talk. His laugh could be heard from the other end of the auditorium, the ring of people surrounding him laughing too in agreement with whatever he'd said. Every word that left his lips was so seamless, so natural. Even the letters K.A always made all students at Daena University think of the same person, every eyepatch conjured up the blue-haired man's unmistakable image. He was, quite literally, the pinnacle of popularity - an icon at your university. You'd met him in middle school at a holiday program, and had been comfortable talking to him for those weeks. His outgoing nature had shocked you when you met him in university. Assuming that he wouldn't want to socialise with someone as unknown and irrelevant as you, you only avoided him. Unlike magnets, human opposites do not attract.

On the other hand, Kaeya desperately sought after you. Due to you adamantly pretending not to know him, he almost thought you'd forgotten him - but the glance you'd send his way every once in a while suggested otherwise. He was a little hurt at the drastic measures you took to avoid him, and tried to take any opportunity he could to catch up with you. Your avoiding skills, however, surpassed his socialising skills. Especially with the throng of people he seemed to have permanently attached to him, it was difficult for him to talk to you.

News about Kaeya’s party spread fast.

It seemed that everywhere you turned, there were people talking about it - snatches of conversation in the hallways, excited whispers snaking through courtyards. The only thing was, the party was highly exclusive. Only the social elites were invited, and the rest tousled amongst themselves for an invite.

You trudged wearily down the corridor, tired. Nobody would stop talking about the party. It was as if the very air of the campus was electrified in anticipation for the coming Friday night. The most popular guy hosting a massive, exclusive get-together at his presumably massive house? The event was on everyone’s mind, whether they liked it or not.

“Hey,” you felt a light tap on your shoulder as you strode hurriedly to your next class. It was Kaeya, the very man everyone was speaking of.

“Hi, I’ve uh, got to go to my lecture. We can talk later,” you smiled awkwardly, eyes darting around to look for an exit.

“Wait! I’m hosting a party this Friday, and I was wondering if you could come…” Kaeya handed you an envelope, almost sheepish.

“… What?” You looked at the invite, confused. In your very hands was the thing everyone had been dying to get their hands on, the object of attention for the past week.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I just thought it would be nice if you could. Maybe we could catch up?” Kaeya winked.

“Oh,” you pressed your lips into a line.

“I don’t want to force you or anything, don’t feel like it’s compulsory. It’ll just be some fun, yeah?” Kaeya added quickly. His smooth smile did little to quell his heart. Sure, he could arbitrarily hand out dozens of invitations to random people, but this was the one he cared about.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” you did your best to smile genuinely. Kaeya’s face lit up as he grinned in response. He opened his mouth to say something else, but you quickly ducked away before he could. You didn’t hate him, but you didn’t want to prolong that awkward conversation, either.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Diluc muttered, watching with mild irritation as his half brother dashed into the house with an almost giddy delight.

“Ah, something pleasant happened today,” Kaeya responded. He relaxed onto the plush couch, smiling softly at the memory.

“Did they accept your invitation? Get over yourself, Kaeya. You look like a fool.”

“A fool in love,” Kaeya mused.

“Hopefully they don’t fall in love with you too, then we’d have two fools.”

“Are you trying to sabotage me?”

“Of course not, I’m fully supportive of the two of you getting together. Perhaps then you can cease your mindless whining about how they always ignore you.”

“Oh, but they didn’t ignore me today. Maybe they do feel something for me after all.”

“Responding to a conversation is hardly attraction, Kaeya.”

Kaeya only scowled, before smiling with delight again at remembering his interaction with you.

That fateful Friday night finally arrived, enshrined in mystery and radiating an air of social excitement. You were busy trying on different clothes, tugging at the sleeves and waistbands in the mirror of your dorm. Would the others at the party judge you? You'd never felt the need to buy particularly fancy clothing, but you were quickly beginning to regret that choice. You winced just imagining the countless eyes that would be trained on you when you entered - questioning gazes raking over your body. Why were you there, of all people? Why did you dress like that? Why weren't you talking to anyone? Why were you so-

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, breathing deeply. You insisted to yourself it was all in your head, as you finally made up your mind on what to wear. You almost panicked again, however, upon seeing the time. You were late - but you hadn't even begun to tidy yourself up, apart from choosing an outfit. You told yourself that nobody would notice if you were slightly slow in arriving, and swiftly continued your slow preparation.

Meanwhile, one person did notice your absence. Kaeya searched the foyer of his sprawling estate, sending rushed smiles to the guests on the way. You were nowhere to be seen, and the party was well underway. Did you change your mind about coming...? His hand clenched a little tighter as he went from room to room, almost beginning to curse how large his house was. Whenever he asked someone if they'd seen you, they'd shoot him a confused look before asking who you even were. Kaeya only sighed, resorting to tepidly relaxing into the exuberant atmosphere. It wouldn't do him much good to care too much, and hence, he did his best to let things unfold naturally. After all, he prided himself on being a spectator, not an instigator.

Despite his nonchalance, Kaeya couldn’t suppress the relieved sigh that left his lips at the sight of you in the doorway - fidgeting nervously. It was adorable to him, the way you’d tried to dress up extra nicely. If only you knew how perfect you looked in his eyes, even when you rushed into lectures with unbrushed hair and clothes that barely qualified as not being pyjamas.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Kaeya laughed over the loud thrum of the music indoors, gently holding your wrist to guide you in.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled. What else could you even say? He’d just stated that you’d turned up, so there wasn’t much to elaborate on. Archons, he probably thought you were so awkward-

“Want a drink? Don’t worry, we have non alcoholic ones too,” Kaeya smiled. He shooed away the people that attempted to approach him, his gaze settling firmly on you. You squirmed under the attention, only managing to nod.

Kaeya watched your expression coolly as you took a tentative sip of the glass he handed you, noticing your nerves. He saw the way your eyes darted around the room, the way your breathing quickened when someone approached the two of you. He should’ve known you’d be uncomfortable - how stupid was he to force you into something you obviously were nervous about?

“Would you like to go somewhere a little quieter? It certainly is a little loud,” Kaeya leaned forward to pull you closer to him. You nodded shyly in response, letting him guide you through the thick knots of people - trying your best not to notice his hand resting on your shoulder. Countless faces swept across your vision as people blurred past, and you faintly registered the friendly remarks Kaeya would utter to everyone else.

Finally, the two of you arrived in a secluded balcony - the cold air a pleasant contrast to the heated enclosed space. You realised your cheeks were burning as Kaeya touched them with a cool hand, looking at you in concern.

“Are you alright? I’m really sorry for forcing you into this kind of thing,” Kaeya murmured.

“No, no! It’s fine, it was just a little warm in there. I’m not used to large social gatherings. Well, that was probably obvious, I mean… You know what kind of person I am - wait, you probably don’t, because I’m barely relevant, and…”

“Shh, you’re the most important person to me. Don’t worry about useless things.” Kaeya pressed a finger over your mouth to silence your awkward blurting. Your cheeks burned again, except this time it wasn’t from the heat. How many other people had he done this to? He was notorious for his naturally flirtatious personality. You struggled to convince yourself not to read into it.

“Okay,” you nodded, grimacing at your lack of a creative response. You weren’t too sure of how to continue the conversation from there, so you simply turned to look at the view.

“Hm, distracted already? Why won’t you ever look at me?” Kaeya mused. This time, it was even harder not to blush furiously.

“The view is nice,” you stated bluntly. You heard Kaeya’s signature laugh behind you, and you felt your heart drop, thinking he was deriding you.

“I mean, it just looks nice, I’m sorry-”

“Quit apologising, sweetheart.”

Your breathing faltered as you realised Kaeya’s face was much closer than you expected. You could see each vibrant filament speckling his navy blue eyes, watch the light quiver of his lips. No, not watch - feel. You could feel the quiver of his lips, because they were on yours, and oh-

Oh.

In your defence, you’d never been taught how to french kiss before, nor had you any experience, so you were justified when you violently pushed Kaeya away in embarrassment.

“I… don’t know how to kiss,” you muttered, staring at the floor. You winced stay your own awkwardness. What a way to kill the mood.

“It’s fine, we can do it slow. Just focus on one lip, okay? And don’t stress out over it. I’ve been with plenty of words kissers,” Kaeya smoothly dismissed the interruption to draw you back in. This time, he let you make the move as you hesitantly pressed your lips against his.

You were clumsy, and nervous with your first kiss - but it was sweet. You never thought someone else’s lips could taste like this. Perhaps this was the feeling all those romance novels described, that peculiar fluttering of the ribcage. That lingering taste on the tongue, that candid beat of silence after pulling away.

“Not bad for a first kiss,” Kaeya remarked.

“Thanks?” You smiled awkwardly in response as he laughed and pinched your cheek fondly. The dull pain barley processed under all the adrenaline running in your veins, quashed under the almost vehement beating of your heart. This was quite a lot of shock for one day.

“Oh, and did I mention? I like you, so let’s do that again sometime,” Kaeya added - almost an afterthought. His face broke into a carefree grin as you stuttered over your next words, your heartbeat growing impossibly faster.

“I- me too. As in, I like you too, not I like myself, obviously-”

“Shh.”

Kaeya cut you off with another kiss, lightly laughing into it as you remembered to close your eyes.

The talk of the university after the party was where on earth the host had been the entire night.

༊*·˚

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin fluff #genshin headcannons #genshin angst #kaeya x gender neutral reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeyagenshinimpact #kaeya fanfic #kaeya alberich #kaeya oneshot #kaeya fluff #kaeya imagines #kaeya headcanons

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scaranation · 1 year

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I saw that requests were still open and I crawled back from the firey pits of hell to offer you Scaramouche brain rott along with a personal AU that hit me like a foking brick like two days ago.

So first off. Imagine if you will. That Mr. McGrump wasn't actually just one entity but actually a trio of twin brothers that wandered around Teyvat known as the "the trio of eccentrics". They despise each other (cuz of course they do) but decide to travel together cuz no matter how hard they try to NOT bump into each other, the world is just so big for a trio of dumbasses that are chaotic on their own right.

They cannot get along to save their lives. The amount of times Scaramouche and Wanderer have gotten smacked on the face with Kabukimono's smithing hammer are just too many to count. Not to mention that as feeble as he appears to be he has a scarily good aim much to his brother's previous dismay as they have been greeted with a flying hammer to the back of the head multiple times when they have run into each other "by chance" before.

People tend just get confused when one of them randomly spawns on a town and seemingly sprout two other clones like some kind of mitosis type shit until they realize it's just a trio of siblings.

I also low-key feel y/n would accidentally bump and help all of them separatedly by chance only for them to all either think of them fondly or straight up have a little crush on them. I can just see Kabuki rambling to wanderer how some sweet person saved him from a hoard of electro slimes only for him to remember how someone offered to invite him to some food in one of his travels similar to the one his brother mentioned. Only for Scara to interrupt demanding if they were talking about this one very specific person that offered him shelter that one time he was injured after some misión or something. Cue y/n casually walking by and all of them losing their collective shit cuz HOLY SHIT THAT'S THEM- WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW THEM TOO????? And thus the quest of winning over the kind stranger begins.

Idk if this was even mildly entertaining but this idea has been eating my brain for days and needed to spew it somewhere. Love your work! ✨✨✨

OMLL HOWW YOUR BRAINROTS ARE SO GOOD I CANT 😭😭 this took me a while to write but i had to get everything out to even do this idea some justice it’s got me giggling fr

༊*·˚ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄

ft. Scaramouche, Kabukimono, Wanderer

Content: fluff, crack (but treated seriously)

a/n - innocent Kabukimono just lives rent free in my heart omlll like just imagine a less traumatised Scara <33

The trio of short haired, violet-eyed wanderers (also known as “the trio of eccentrics” by the local children) were a common sight in Teyvat. Prior to the revelation that they were, in fact, siblings, people had believed that they were either a teleporting ghost or some human aphid with miraculous cloning abilities. That was until someone saw two of the them in the same room, and connected the dots.

Scaramouche, the Wanderer, and Kabukimono were inseparable - not of their own will, of course. On their erratic, impulsive routes across Sumeru, they’d somehow cross paths more often than they wanted. In fact, they’d made an effort to avoid each other. The Wanderer had retreated all the way to the Hypostyle Desert, cackling at his own genius. Unfortunately, he also found Scaramouche and Kabukimono at the desert too - both dumbfounded at the ridiculous situation. Somehow, all three of them had simultaneously decided that hiding in the desert to not see each other was a great idea.

“What are you doing here?” the Wanderer had blurted.

“No, what are you doing here? I had this idea yesterday!” Kabukimono cried.

“Both of you, get out of my sight. I hatched this plan two weeks ago.” Scaramouche grumbled.

“Oh, how diabolical and calculating you are,” the Wanderer rolled his eyes, as though he wasn’t just praising himself for what he thought was the most intelligent idea to ever exist.

“Fine, I’ll leave first.” Kabukimono sighed. Perhaps it was because he was the youngest, but he was always ended up giving in to his brothers.

“Pushover,” the Wanderer smirked.

“Says the unemployed one,” Scaramouche scoffed.

“At least I have a vision.”

“Shut up.”

The many other times the trio convened by accident, two of them weren’t even conscious to fully process their irritation. The moment Kabukimono spotted Scaramouche or the Wanderer at his favourite resting place, he’d let loose his hammer - striking them on the back of the head with scary aim. He’d congratulate himself if he managed to score a concussion, too. It wasn’t as though the others didn’t defend themselves equally vigorously. If they couldn’t settle things with words, the brothers would just break out into fighting.

Things were especially bad when the Wanderer got ahold of Kabukimono’s hammer. Upon wrestling it out of the blacksmith’s grip, the Wanderer would flit into the air, gleefully holding the hammer out of reach until Scaramouche had enough and struck him down with a bolt of lightning.

“You look like a fly when you do that, you know?”

“You’re just jealous.”

Somehow, you were always at the centre of the trio’s unpredictable paths of destruction across Teyvat. You never really guessed at the connection between them, only dismissing it as a mere coincidence that you’d developed a fondness for three purple haired, short-tempered travellers.

As an adventurer, you’d first met Kabukimono on one of your errands.

“Stay away!”

You heard the clanging of something heavy on your inspection in Guyun, turning around to locate the source of the voice.

You followed the commotion around past the domain you’d just exited from, finding a crevice tucked away into a small beach-like area. Clumps of electro crystals clung to the stone walls of the cove, the lapping of the waves only perpetuating the intense elemental reactions. At the centre of it all was a strangely dressed man, being attacked by a hoard of electro slimes. He flailed around with a blacksmith’s hammer, presumably caught in his own attempt to mine valuable ores for a project.

His clothes looked to be of Inazuman attire, too - what was an Inazuman doing, looking for electro crystals all the way out in Liyue?

“Do you need help?” You crouched down, a little hesitant over whether or not it was obligatory for you to jump into the electro-charged mess.

“It… certainly looks like it, doesn’t it?” The man flashed you a defeated smile. Luckily, as a pyro vision holder, it wasn’t too difficult for you to deal with the slimes. With a brief flash of your vision, you also mined the ores for the stranger as well.

“Ah! So they require elemental triggers to be mined. No wonder it was taking me so long. Thank you, by the way - I’m Kabukimono.” The stranger extended a hand. You took it, but he didn’t shake it. The two of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, before he released your hand.

“Ah, sorry… That’s what I see people at the workshop do when they meet someone new. Is it strange?”

“No, of course not! You usually shake the hand after holding it, though.” You quipped helpfully.

“Oh.” A flush spread across his cheeks. He thanked you vehemently once again, insisting on offering you some spare iron in exchange for your help.

“Travel safe!” You called after Kabukimono, as he hurried off. He was a little strange, but his awkwardness was rather endearing. You smiled and shook your head, before resuming work and thinking nothing more of the entire ordeal.

Unlike Kabukimono, the second of the trio you met was a lot more irritable. You met the Wanderer at some food stalls in Sumeru city, almost mistaking him for the acquaintance you’d met in Guyun - only to be quickly corrected by his vastly different attitude.

“Watch it.” The stranger that looked suspiciously like Kabukimono (but with a remarkably more hostile, pointed gaze) shoved past you.

“These lavender melons. How much do they cost?” Not-Kabukimono asked the vendor, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Uh, 200 mora-”

“What? Who sells trash like this so expensively? Forget it, I didn’t want them anyway.” The Wanderer scoffed, turning to leave before you quickly grabbed him.

“If you’re hungry, you can eat at my place. I have some leftovers,” you offered. He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously.

“Why are you helping me? Is this a poisoning attempt?”

“No… You just remind me of an acquaintance of mine, so I thought I’d look out for you.”

“Pfft, I don’t need your baseless concern.”

At that moment, the man’s stomach grumbled. The two of you made eye contact, before reaching a silent agreement.

“My house is that way,” you pointed, as the stranger begrudgingly followed you.

Even if he didn’t say so, the stranger most definitely enjoyed your cooking. After introducing himself as the Wanderer, he was quick to open up - always stopping by to visit (claiming that you were a convenient dining place for his travels).

Whenever he stopped by, you’d laugh and cook him a warm meal - it almost felt like home to him, or at least what he thought a home was. He never really had one, nor did he care for the notion, but this arrangement was quite pleasant for him. If the Wanderer was in a good mood, he’d even share some of his travelling stories with you. He’d boast about the enemies he defeated in the wilderness, complain about the stupidity of mortals, before giving you the rare piece of acknowledgement (“you know, your cooking is edible,” or “it’s definitely not poisoned,” etc.).

You quickly grew to anticipate his sporadic visits, getting an understanding of what kind of food he preferred. You weren’t sad when he didn’t arrive, and the two of you thrived off a mutual relationship. The Wanderer was surely different from your other companion, but that didn’t make him any less welcome.

Lastly, you’d met Scaramouche on an ominous rainy day. Or, rather, he’d been deposited on your doorstep.

“I don’t remember ordering a parcel…” You peered out into your doorway, squinting through the lashing rain - before realising that this ‘parcel’ was very much human-shaped.

With a surprised gasp, you dragged the figure inside as carefully as you could, wincing at the blood mixed with rainwater that swirled across his smooth skin. Peeling back the heavy layers of his outer coat, you took off the man’s hat to gape again in shock.

“Kabukimono?” You spluttered.

“Who are you calling Kabukimono?” The stranger snapped, sitting up slowly.

“Wanderer?” You tried again, guessing based on the man’s furious expression.

“Hah, you dare to…”

Before the stranger (that was neither Kabukimono nor the Wanderer) could finish his sentence, he passed out again in a haze of dizzying unconsciousness.

The man’s deep indigo eyes fluttered open a while later to the sight of you tending his wounds. He immediately flinched away, looking at you incredulously.

“Who are you? Why am I here?”

“You quite literally passed out on my porch, then again in my house. Don’t you remember?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“You dare gaslight a Fatui Harbinger? Try as hard as you want, but I won’t be giving you financial compensation for this.”

“You’re… a Harbinger…?” You frowned. He sure acted and looked a lot like the Wanderer - perhaps he’d hit his head a little too hard.

“Yes, Scaramouche. I’m better known as the Balladeer, of course.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“Well, then that just means we’re doing a great job of maintaining confidentiality.” Scaramouche huffed, allowing you to continue wrapping bandages around the deep gashes on his body. You chuckled at his demeanour.

“I’m not expecting anything in return for this.” You offered, leaning back to scrutinise your medical work. Years of adventuring had given you experience in this sort of thing, but your expertise was still lacking.

“Then why? Don’t tell me, you believe in kindness?”

“Anyone would do this if they found a stranger half-dead at their door in the pouring rain.” You rolled your eyes.

“I was not half-dead, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Scaramouche huffed, and you almost gawked at how similar he was to the Wanderer.

“Um, do you happen to know anyone named… Uh…” You hesitated under your new acquaintance’s fierce gaze.

“Named what? Do I look like an Akasha terminal to you?”

“Never mind.” You quickly shut your mouth. Perhaps it was just a coincidence.

It took a few months before the trio finally figured out they had a mutual connection. They’d all visited you countless times, and yet were lucky enough not to encounter each other - that was, until they finally began talking about their latest travel experiences upon having a chance meeting in Sumeru.

“Hm, perhaps this is what mortals call… comradeship…” Kabukimono mused to his brothers one day.

“Feeling a little amicable, Kabukimono?” Scaramouche sneered. He eyed the glimmering purple blade Kabukimono flipped over in his hands.

“There was this adventurer who saved me from some electro slimes once. It was because of them that I could fashion this dagger… Humans really are compassionate.” Kabukimono mused. He happily smiled to himself at the reminder of you.

“You’re so naive, brother. After all, mortals are only driven by fair exchange. Nobody would help without expecting it return - ah, there is one exception. There was this person I met who offered me food. I’ve been having free meals with them for months, and they don’t even know how I’m taking advantage of them! How immature they are, selflessly acting like that. It almost makes me concerned for their well-being,” the Wanderer chuckled.

“I don’t think you’re taking advantage of them if you’re… just accepting the free meals they give you. It almost seems they have you wrapped around their finger.” Scaramouche snickered.

“You wouldn’t understand the idea of a mutually beneficial relationship. In fact, have you even talked to a living being other than your colleagues in the last week?”

“Yes, you, and a certain traveller who took me in after I was injured in a mission-”

“You got injured? How pathetic.”

“It was a calculated risk. Anyway, they gave me shelter and treated all my wounds without asking for mora once. And they even let me stay over long after I’d healed, too. Mortals are so foolish, to be blindly trusting. I could’ve snapped their throat in a second.”

The three brothers agreed on the extremely rare and (questionably naive) selflessness of humans.

Then, a beat of silence passed before a revelation dawned on them.

“Isn’t it weird that we’ve all met a strange, helpful adventurer?” Kabukimono murmured.

“Exactly what I was thinking. Surely not all humans are like this.” Scaramouche nodded.

“Maybe foolishness is more common than we thought…?” The Wanderer suggested, but an uneasy feeling was dawning on him as he began to connect the dots.

“Say, does the traveller you two met live near the Grand Bazaar?” Scaramouche prodded.

“Yes.” Kabukimono and the Wanderer responded simultaneously.

“And they have an adventurer’s bandana? With a Mondstadtian clock in the front room of their house?”

“Yes- YOU TWO KNOW THEM AS WELL?” Kabukimono spluttered.

The Wanderer only heaved a large sigh. He was so close to showing off that he had a new friend, only to realise that the new friend was also acquainted with both his brothers.

“How bothersome, it seems you’re already close with them.” Scaramouche raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I am! I met them first, after all.” Kabukimono insisted.

“Both of you, be quiet. I’m going to their place now.” The Wanderer pushed back his chair.

“Hey! I was planning to visit them too!”

The scraping of chairs resounded as the remaining two brothers hurriedly rushed to get to your house.

Any other person would probably pass out from fear at seeing all three of the notorious trio appear at their door. You, however, only shot them a bemused look and ushered them in.

Once the three realised they had competition, Scaramouche, the Wanderer, and Kabukimono would be unrelenting in competing for your attention.

It was quite comical at times - you’d barely have to say anything and one of them would appear, diligently doing tasks for you and looking back at you eagerly for praise. It seemed almost strange to consider that these three had been marvelling at your profound naiveness only a few days ago, and were now basically at your beck and call.

Scaramouche would definitely be the most demanding. Whether it was a hand on your elbow or a risky grip on your wrist, he made sure you were close to him and sought your undivided attention. He’d recklessly snap out searing insults at anyone else, before getting ahold of himself and stating that he was merely defending a poor, foolish soul from being taken advantage of by some calculating purple-haired villain. Not him though, he’d never do anything like that.

The Wanderer (like his name) was more relaxed - he could go without your eyes on him at all times, and he’d drift in and out as he pleased. However, he did see himself as being entitled to your energy whenever he did happen to stop by. Occasionally, he’d even offer to take you on a scenic flight across Teyvat. After you’d tried it once, you were quick to refuse his latter offers - zooming across rooftops at breakneck speed was not your forte. The Wanderer huffed at your reluctance and accused you of denying his altruistic favour, but made an effort to do things you liked regardless.

Kabukimono was fiercely shy. He’d always bring you trinkets - small mechanisms or self-defends tools he’d fashioned from spare parts during his work as a blacksmith. He’d press them into your hands self-consciously, unable to bite back a smile when you praised his handiwork. He wouldn’t hesitate to stand up against his much fiercer brothers if it was for you, holding you in a tight embrace whenever you’d let him.

And so, as it happened, it seemed as though “the eccentric trio” simply couldn’t escape each other. As if by some ill-humoured joke, they all ended up liking the same person. The only issue was, being that person, you now had to deal with all three of them at once.

As if one wasn’t enough, you now had triple the trouble.

༊*·˚

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

Hi! I saw that your requests are open. So, if it's possible, could you write one with genshin boys (preferably Xiao, Kazuha, Thoma, Alhaitham, Heizou) with an asthmatic S/O? As an asthmatic, I'd appreciate it! I really love your writing so I hope you’d consider my request, have an awesome day!

dhhdjdjdhdj this is so late but i’m just working thru my requests…

as a non-asthmatic i tried my best w researching for this but i’m sorry if i made some mistakes 😭 i attempted to make it as accurate as possible tho !! thanks for submitting this <33

༊*·˚ 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

ft. Xiao, Kazuha, Thoma, Alhaitham, Heizou

Content: fluff, overprotective genshin men <3

XIAO

This man is STRESSED. As in, definitely more stressed about it than you are - he’d make sure you weren’t in discomfort at any time, always checking up on you both verbally and through his cautious observation. He isnt used to taking care of himself, much less anyone else, but he'd definitely put in his all.

Xiao would probably be even more careful because it wasn’t a visible threat. He could fight off hoards of enemies for you, but what could he do to your airways? When he shared this with you, you only laughed and told him to stop being dramatic. He’d literally act the same way men do about menstruation but with your asthma - he’s trying his best, you just need to give him some time.

He’d be so careful, too - even with something simple, he’d stress so much over it.

“Oh, are you out of breath… Um… Should I stop?”

“That’s what happens when people kiss, Xiao.”

If you showed any sign of exertion, Xiao would be at your side immediately, checking you over for any indicators of discomfort. It was as though even the slightest stutter in your breath could summon him from wherever he was - he’d appear next to you without his name ever having left your lips. You’d definitely feel very safe and looked after by him, although the care was a little clumsy and overly cautious at times. Xiao was simply so cute, always fretting over you. Who knew the conquerer of demons could react in this way?

KAZUHA

Kazuha is definitely pretty relaxed. When you told him you were an asthmatic, he’d just nod and ask a little about what that entailed. He wouldn’t press the matter, but he’d remember everything you said. All your preferences, your physical limits - Kazuha would quietly note them down in his memory, keeping a soft gaze on you.

If you ever had an asthma attack, Kazuha would calmly stay by your side - after all, two panicked people wouldn’t lead to a better situation. He’d gently pass you your inhaler, guiding you through breathing activities between murmured reassurances.

“You’re doing great.”

“You’ll be okay.”

He wouldn’t hesitate to call for help if your condition worsened, careful not to let his concern show as he flashed you a seemingly relaxed smile.

As a wayfarer who spent most of his time on a ship, Kazuha felt a little guilty for forcing you into this outdoor lifestyle. However, you insisted on being with him, and it was only natural for him to cater to your every need.

THOMA

Thoma is definitely on top of everything. As a housekeeper extraordinaire and possibly the most kind-hearted person in Inazuma, you’re definitely in safe hands.

He’d always make sure your inhaler was either with you or him, immediately forcing you to rest if you seemed even the slightest bit exhausted. He’s a people-pleaser for sure, and would do everything in his power to ensure your comfort.

“Ah, is the window too wide? I forgot it was spring - is the pollen annoying you?”

“Hm, the weather’s quite humid today. Would you rather I fetch the groceries instead? You don’t need to come along if you don’t want to.”

“Hold on, don’t come in. I just need to air out the kitchen for a moment - I’ve cooked dinner, but it is a little smokey in here.”

He’s the sweetest person alive, always considering you before anything else. He’d send for help immediately if you had an asthma attack - internally blaming himself for being unreliable - and stay with you the whole time, making sure you were okay.

ALHAITHAM

As soon as he was aware of your condition, Alhaitham would read up on every source related to it. He’d memorise everything meticulously - symptoms, triggers, relief - by the next day, Alhaitham would practically be an expert.

He does it because he cares about you, of course. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to check up on you like a normal person, so he does it methodically (much to your amusement).

“I understand we’re in a dry area, how is your breathing? Once we get to our next stop, I’ll run a test for nitric oxide. Ah, and I have your medications here too.”

“We’re exploring the desert, not having a health checkup. I’m fine.”

“Safety protocol comes first. Tell me immediately if you have respiratory difficulties.”

It was a little uncanny how pragmatic the man was when it came to your health, but he just didn’t know how else to express it. He wasn’t good at comforting people - Kaveh always told him he was too blunt and tended to make reassurances sound like insults - and so Alhaitham could only resort to practiced formality. It was almost funny, how his monotone contrasted the concern pooling in his eyes.

Alhaitham was determined, at any cost, to keep you safe and healthy. After all, he wanted to be the only thing that could take your breath away.

HEIZOU

Heizou is quite a character, and so, when you told him you were an asthmatic, he treated it like a mystery. The scientific method was common in criminal investigations, and he used those same steps in ensuring the comfort of his lover.

Heizou identified the problem (very self-explanatory) first, before forming a hypothesis to gauge your asthma triggers. Of course, you knew of a few, but he needed solid evidence without endangering you. Heizou would sharply observe whenever you appeared to be short of breath, having your inhaler at the ready as he formulated a list of potentially hazardous situations to avoid. Call him overcommitted, but he knew it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.

Although, in theory, Heizou had mapped out every facet of your condition unique to you, he’d be at a slight loss when you actually had an asthma attack. In fact, anyone would think he was the asthmatic, with the erratic way he’d start hyperventilating in panic alongside you.

“I didn’t draw a conclusion about animals being a potential trigger… This is an unforeseen factor…”

“Wait, here’s your inhaler. And your medication.”

(cough) “Why do you have my whole medicine cupboard with you?”

“Just in case. I’ll uh, call for help now.”

He’d be so nervous at his prevention methods not working, but he’d help you resolve the attack with his signature efficiency (after getting over his own mini panic attack, of course.)

Heizou would continuously learn and observe you, making sure he understood you as best as possible in order to cater for your asthma. He’d be a little shocked if things didn’t go according to his conclusions, but he’d definitely devote his everything to keeping you safe.

༊*·˚

567 notes · View notes

scaranation · 1 year

Note

Hey I ADORE UR WRITING...SENDING ALL LOVES TO U... btw can u write a headcanon about how alhaitham or zhongli or wanderer would react to a really short fiesty y/n?

THIS IS V LATE IM SO SORRY HAHA anyway im alive now so I finally finished the prompt ! i interpreted it romantically by accident but I hope you like it anyway ehehe

༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

ft. Alhaitham, Zhongli, Wanderer

Content: Fluff, headcannons, it's all enemies to lovers, Scara's part is a little short but so is he 🤭

a/n - ignore the spam e's at the end tumblr kept deleting my last paragraph whenever i tried to edit so i got mad and made sure the only thing i'd lose were the 3847394 e's i typed

ALHAITHAM

At first, he couldn’t ever see himself falling for someone like you. And if he were to date you, he’d definitely have to fall quite far - after all, you were so short, he practically had to trip over himself in squatting to talk to you. What you lacked in height, however, was made up by temper.

The first time Alhaitham had met you, he was very much taken aback by your personality. Instantly, he categorised you as the irritating, distracting type, filing away your existence in his brain as he droned out the sound of your voice.

“Grand Sage! I’m here to get approval for my research paper, and-”

“Acting Grand Sage.” Alhaitham corrected you without even looking up from his desk. Your words didn’t even register to him, as he left the interaction to his subconscious as to save his own energy.

“Acting Grand Scribe, whatever. Anyway, here’s my thesis, can you look over it now?”

“The approval process takes a few days, you can leave it here.”

“Oh, okay! Thank you, Grand Sage!” You chirped, scurrying off before Alhaitham could point out your error again. He spared a cursory glance towards the paper you’d left on his desk, raising an eyebrow.

“Height: an in-depth study into the role of genetics versus upbringing in contributing to an individual’s vertical stature.”

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise, and the premise of your project lacked nuance. He idly flipped through the pages, already preparing to reject it.

"This project will feature an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban who struggles with height in order to establish a deeper understanding... Hm. Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We've seen countless projects like this before." Alhaitham mused, stamping the front cover with bright red rejection and putting the paper aside.

It wasn’t long before Alhaitham found you at his office once again. However, you’d shed any semblance of politeness you’d had before, only fuming as you marched right up to his desk and demanded an explanation for the rejection of your research project.

“Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a thesis like this. The Akademiya needs not waste its resources on previously covered topics, hence I suggest you find a scholarly pursuit more worthy of your time.” You clenched your hands into fists at the irritating way the Acting Grand Sage didn’t even glance at you, his eyes still darting over the paper he was currently reading.

“What’s so interesting about what you’re reading now, then?” You snapped, slamming both hands on the hard wood of the desk. Your arms faltered a little as pain shot up from the impact. You tried to bite back a wince, but Alhaitham noticed. He had to fight to keep an amused smirk down as he finally looked up at you.

“This? It’s a study into the applicability of natural selection in society. Of course, it fuels some questionable - and incorrect - ideals, but it has piqued my interest. Rest assured that it will also be rejected.” Alhaitham’s tone was condescending, and it only made you more frustrated.

“Why are you invalidating my experiment?”

“Don’t take this so personally, I have nothing against you as an individual.” The Acting Grand Sage chuckled. Your demeanour reminded him of a fiery chipmunk, and he tuned out the sound of your incessant rambling.

Even your cheeks looked like a chipmunk’s. How fun it would be, to squish them…

“Hey, what are you doing?” You were jerked out of your spiel by the touch of Alhaitham’s hand on your cheek. Some fingers were gloved, others bare - it made a curious contrast, the rough leather juxtaposing smooth skin.

“My apologies, you had something on your cheek. You may continue your futile self justification now.” Alhaitham retracted his hand to go back to studying the paper.

“This… this won’t be the end!” You exclaimed. You sounded rather like a villain one would find in a children’s novel, except Alhaitham doubted there was a villain as small and as harmless as you.

“I look forward to your future endeavours.” Alhaitham quirked a wry smile at seeing you scuttle off furiously.

You were right - this wasn’t the end. You’d unfortunately piqued the Acting Grand Sage’s interest, and once that happened, there was no way out.

You’d find yourself bumping into Alhaitham more often after that incident. Who knew the Acting Sage even left his office? Wherever you went, he’d be there, presumably to make your life harder.

It sounds cliche, but he would definitely help you out with reaching books just beyond the range of your flailing hands. Of course, he’d read the title and criticise your choice of literature before handing it to you, but Alhaitham would be of aid nonetheless.

He’d make blunt remarks to rile you up, enjoying the sight of you flushing in anger. You were so short, yet so energetic - he often wondered how it was possible for you to be so endearing and irritating at the same time.

Sometimes, your brutish comments would get through to Alhaitham, and you’d have the pleasure of seeing his jaw flex in discomfort before he snapped back with something equally personal. Neither of you were ever willing to let the other have the last word.

You often wondered how you’d gotten close to the cold Acting Sage. He was feared amongst all other scholars for his meticulousness, and yet he seemed fine with engaging in banter with you. It was a shocking but typical sight to see you with him in the halls of the Akademiya, the almost comical height difference drawing scoffs from witnesses. A quick glare from Alhaitham would be enough to silence those snickers, however. After all, he was the only one who could tease you, and you, him.

ZHONGLI

You’d first meet Zhongli through attempting to scam him. Most people would wonder why you were trying to swindle the god of contracts himself, but to be fair, you didn’t know who he was - and you were an absolute genius at robbing people with honeyed lies. How were you supposed to know you’d bitten off more than you could chew?

The day had begun normally, with you merely making your normal (fraudulent) sales. You’d make glorious promises of a newly discovered vein of ores in the Chasm, painting pictures of abundant wealth. Then, you’d convince those poor customers to buy stakes in the mine for a ridiculous price, although they were really only buying a shoddy patch of dirt you owned in the Sumeru-Liyue border. You’d managed to slip under the radar as you technically hadn’t done anything illegal, only omitted some key details.

After all, you only said that there was a “strong possibility” that there would be valuable ores there. And you were right - there were iron chunks. And they were valuable… in some perspectives. Either way, you didn’t know much about what was legal and what wasn’t (your only knowledge came from your time attending school with Yanfei) but it was good, not-so-honest work. The devil’s in the details, as they say, and nobody reads the poorly written fine print on the contracts you made anyway.

Until Zhongli came along.

“May I ask the whereabouts of this place?” The man exuded wealth, from his deep voice to his elegantly refined attire. Your eyes sparkled. If you could pull this off, the rewards would be great.

“It’s in the Chasm.”

“Ah, you already mentioned that, but where exactly in the Chasm?”

“Around the Western side, near the Sumeru border.”

“Hm, how fascinating. I don’t recall any developments being made in that area.” Zhongli murmured.

“It’s being kept a secret, because of how valuable it is… Of course you understand how important confidentiality is to such a project, right?”

“What confidentiality is there to uphold if you’re blandly advertising it in the middle of Liyue Harbour?”

You were stunned into silence, mouth hanging open. It was there that you noticed the knowing gleam in his eyes, the quirk of his lips in a shrewd smirk.

“… Please don’t report me. I will atone for my sins, and worship the lord of geo with great reverence.” You immediately switched attitudes, letting out a nervous laugh. For a seasoned businessperson like yourself, you had to know when to stop attacking and when to start defending. This was one of those times where it was best to defend - or, better yet, to just run away.

“Well then, you may begin now.” Zhongli crossed his arms.

“You’re not the lord of geo.” You retorted. The man had introduced himself as Zhongli, after all.

“Oh?” Zhongli smiled, and you felt your stomach churn. If this man truly was Rex Lapis, then you’d just made a very big mistake.

Zhongli turned and walked away, and you breathed out a sigh of relief - before he glanced back at you, expecting you to follow.

“Where… where are we going…?” You asked.

“Aren’t you going to atone? We’ll start by returning every cent of the mora you took.” Zhongli took your hand in his. A stupid, out of place warmth bloomed at the contact, but you quickly squashed it as you continued to fume at the man who’d dismantled your thriving business.

“What? The Tianquan was onto you already, would you rather face more extreme persecution from her?” Zhongli smiled.

“… No.” You snapped.

This ‘atonement’ was going to take a while.

Surprisingly, your victims - wait, *customers* - were scattered far and wide around Teyvat, so you found yourself going on many trips with the former lord of geo.

At first, you’d constantly snap at him, viewing him as a suspiciously pleasant millelith member, or an overly patronising supervisor. However, as the two of you got closer, he wasn’t as insufferable as you thought.

It was comforting to hear Zhongli share his past experiences, narrating first-hand stories like the ones in the history classes you never paid attention to. He was also the perfect height for you to grab his ponytail, yanking it particularly hard whenever you were bored.

To be honest, Zhongli often did appear as your guardian. He’d stop you from picking fights with strangers, easily holding you back (or slinging you over his shoulder if you were being particularly disagreeable), doing his best to maintain peace in an environment you were in.

On colder days, you’d borrow Zhongli’s coat, although it was so long it dragged along the floor. The sleeves hung over your hands, the cuffs flopping around whenever you excitedly pointed out something. Zhongli would chuckle at your mannerisms, resting a comforting hand on your head to keep you still.

Zhongli was calm, and you definitely were not. He was tall, but you most certainly weren’t. But you know what they say - opposites attract. And you made quite a pair with the former Geo Archon.

WANDERER

Two vertically challenged, feisty individuals with an attitude problem. Both you and the Wanderer were Sumeru city’s worst nightmare, although you undeniably despised each other.

You’d match his energy with unfaltering confidence as he hurled every insult in your direction upon seeing you. Honestly, neither of you were sure when this rivalry started - perhaps it’d just began when you two wanted to see who could be the best short angry person in the region.

“Looking as useless as ever, Wanderer.” You sneered upon seeing the familiar jellyfish cut from the back, snickering as the figure turned to glare at you.

“Has anyone ever told you about your severe temper issues?” The Wanderer snapped back.

“Speak for yourself - I heard you massacred some poor Fatui skirmishers while roaming in the jungle.”

“They were in the way, and you would’ve done the same if you were in my position.”

Those that were passing by watched your bickering with an amused trepidation. You really were perfect for each other, if you’d somehow set your hatred aside.

You and the Wanderer would be seen prowling the city streets or wrecking havoc in the wilderness in the name of some vague competition, both your tempers equally matched. In candid moments you two would almost understand each other perfectly, almost opening your mouths to say something vulnerable.

Of course, your egos wouldn’t allow for that. And so, you and the Wanderer would dance along the edge of whatever strange relationship you had.

Despite you both being short, the Wanderer possessed an Anemo vision. Hence, as you struggled to climb a tree to obtain some bird eggs, the Wanderer would float above you, cackling as he snatched them out of your reach.

“What on earth do you plan to do with these, anyway? I never knew you cooked.”

“Give them to me!”

“How sad life must be, having your head so close to the ground.” The Wanderer wove to the side to dodge your flailing arms, failing to notice the dangerous creaking of the branch you were clinging to.

“You’d better come back here right now-” The branch snapped and you went hurtling down, squeezing your eyes shut. You heard a crack, and felt yourself land against something.

“Gosh, you’re so heavy.” The Wanderer scoffed. He’d caught you mid-air, lowering you to the ground in mocking gentleness.

“Did I break a bone…?” You gasped, feeling something sticky on your back. Perhaps it was all your organs spilling out.

“No, you’re fine. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Then what was that cracking sound?”

“Uh, those eggs you were trying to get.”

You kept out of the Wanderer’s arms hurriedly, the almost tender moment broken - much like the eggs broken over your back and your companion’s hands.

“Archons, you’re so infuriating. Couldn’t you have put them down before saving me?” You scowled.

“Be grateful I did it in the first place.” The Wanderer rolled his eyes.

He wasn’t sure if it was you or the sticky egg debris, but he felt a lingering warmth in his hands.

You and the Wanderer understood each other better than anyone, and let’s be honest - the whole of Sumeru was just waiting for the two of you to get together.

(pls ignore this)

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

blah

STOP DELETING MY SHIT

I HATE TUMBLR UGHHHH

I HATE TUMBLR

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise nor succinct, and there was a clear lack of nuance within the premise of your project. He idly flipped through the rest of the pages, already preparing to reject it.

“For research… there will be an interview held with a member of the Shuumatsuban who experiences difficulties growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve already had similar projects.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front cover and putting it aside.

The former Scribe tutted. Even the title wasn’t concise, nor did it provide much nuance. He was just flipping through the rest, already preparing to reject it.

“This project will… involve an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban, who experiences stunted growth… Interesting, but not groundbreaking.” Alhaitham stamped the front cover in red and put it aside.

408 notes · View notes

scaranation · 1 year

Note

Hiii saw you had requests open and I wanted to offer some of my Scaramouche brain rot cuz man this guy makes me soft.

Scara being a touch-starved bean that when their s/o first held his face gently he legitimately just sobbed and couldn't stop himself from letting some tears out.

Scara then just not being able to function without their s/o giving him soft kisses on their forehead and being patient and loving towards him and looking like an angry wet cat whenever they are missing or off doing something where he can't follow like he'd like for too long.

Scara grumpily just kinda adopting a pillow of choice as their cuddle buddy for the time apart or if their s/o simply just doesn't live with him (yet). Maybe even stealing a sweatshirt to keep close or wear it if it fits. Just something to be comforted for the time being.

Just Scara getting pampered and loved and him just getting so overwhelmed with happy feels that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

(sorry for the long ask I just really like soft Scara he deserves to be cuddled :') do what you will with the brain rot I just wanted to share, love your work! Please don't overwork yourself! ^^)

THIS IS SO ADORABLE OMG I LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO ADD ITS PERFECT 😭 how do u think like this touch-starved scara is the cutest thing im actually squealing rnnn (sorry for the v late response i got busy ahahah)

༊*·˚ 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄?

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader

Content: fluff, head cannons, slightly ooc but it’s clingy scara 🥺

The first time you held Scaramouche's face, you thought he hated it. His face contorted beneath your touch, and you retracted your hands - but his face followed them, his cheeks firmly pressing back into your palms.

You'd stare at him curiously as his eyes crinkled shut, mouth falling agape when tears began to slide down his cheeks. Cautiously, you’d thumb them away, feeling the smooth planes of his face crinkle as he squinted at you through his blurred vision. He was definitely embarrassed, but he couldn’t refuse your touch - it was a form of affection he’d never gotten to experience, and his sobs were almost ones of relief at finally finding someone who’d give him the love he craved.

Once he discovered the idea of physical affection, he couldn’t go without it. He liked to be touching you at all times, and would not-so-subtly sulk whenever you were too busy to give him those fluttering pecks on his face. Scaramouche would shyly put up a display of nonchalance as he pretended not to care, only finding himself somehow in your lap again. It was endearing, how touch starved he was - always craving your attention.

If you dared to go somewhere without him, he’d practically be pacing around during your absence, worrying and fuming at you for leaving him behind. Once you got back, you could’ve sworn he had his tail between his legs, invisible ears drooping as he reluctantly eased back into your embrace. Don’t get him wrong - he’s still mad, but he’s willing to forgive you for a kiss. He wouldn’t let you go for the next day at least, so don’t think about leaving him alone like that anytime soon!

When you were - much to Scaramouche’s ire - busy, he sought comfort through ways that didn’t involve clinging to you and hence risking you avoiding him for the rest of the day out of irritation. You were so tender and patient towards him, but all people had a limit. Scaramouche would sulk as he wallowed in self pity, holding himself close to one of your pillows. Sometimes, he’d take a nap on it, imagining that you were dreaming together - something about him resting his head where you’d rested yours was inherently comforting to him. If you caught him during those naps, he’d angrily leap up in embarrassment and scurry away. His heart would stutter as he fumbled on the spot when you went to search for him, holding him close again as you whispered reassurances into his ear.

“Don’t worry about it, Scara.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are!”

That was your cue to peck his lips as he froze up, overwhelmed. The poor thing’s barely come to terms with you being his, and reciprocation of that touch he needed made his whole brain judder to a stop. He was so adorable like this, utterly at a loss for what to do. Slowly, he’d kiss you back, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you close.

Scaramouche would steal any sweaters you made the mistake of leaving unattended - that woolly jumper you left on the couch? It’s gone the next day, added to your lover’s private collection. He’d return them after a while if your scent had faded, acting as though he wasn’t the culprit behind all your missing items of clothing.

At night, Scaramouche wouldn’t be able to sleep without you at his side. Even in the almost unbearable heat of summer, he’d have you entangled in his arms in an unrelenting grip. If you tried to wriggle away, he’d only whine in annoyance and clutch you closer, wriggling to position his face in your neck. Getting up to fetch a glass of water wasn’t an option, either - the vice grip he had on your wrist was enough of a warning. Even if you managed to escape that, you’d find him beside you at the kitchen in an instant. He’d groggily tug at your wrist to lead you back to bed, irritated at the interruption. Why did you need anything else, when you had him? He’d let out a sleepy huff, settling back down on the mattress with you (rightfully) returned to where you should be - next to him.

Although he might act shrewd, Scaramouche loses all rationality when it comes to you. If you’re not in his arms, you’re on his mind, and he wasn’t intending to let you go. Despite this, he’s still so easily flustered - although thankfully, he no longer defaults to crying whenever he’s overwhelmed with happiness. He’d be willing to begrudgingly share all his vulnerabilities with you, slowly opening up. Don’t tease him about it, though - he’s still prone to hissing at you, but he can’t really get mad at you.

After all, you’re the only one who can make him feel this loved.

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scaranation · 1 year

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hi ! how are you feeling ? just wanted to "check up" on ya. how has life been going,i hope everything's alright !

hihihi thank you sm for checking in! i’m currently pretty busy with exams but i still write to take my mind off it 🥲🥲 i hope you’re doing well too tho <33

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scaranation · 1 year

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༊*·˚ 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 - 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Part One | Part Two (Part Three can be read alone as context is provided in synopsis)

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader, elements of Dottore x reader

Content: Angst to comfort, pining, jealousy, memory loss (contains Sumeru archon quest spoilers)

You leave to research alongside Dottore in Liyue with a heavy heart, under the assumption that the Balladeer - your superior and long-time crush - loved another. He, however, is equally restless as he suspects you of holding affection for his fellow harbinger. Despite this, a question inevitably rises - is Scaramouche really deserving enough to have someone like you?

a/n - i know i promised a happy ending but i still left it a bit open-ended for fun, I hope you guys like ittt

Scaramouche was learning how to breathe.

Not breathe in the sense that every inhale dug into his very existence, each exhale paining him because it wasn’t a sigh of contentment at being by your side.

Rather, he wished to just breathe. Breathe without thinking of you, without feeling that pain in his cavernous chest.

In, two, three, four - and out, two, three, four.

It wasn’t easy.

He’d see you everywhere he went, as though whatever oppressed love he held for you tainted his peripheral vision with your image. He’d turn to his side, expecting you there, only to see a blank space you were meant to fill.

Were you happy, with Dottore?

Happier than you were when you’d been with him?

How could you be happy, when you’d made him feel this way?

It occurred to Scaramouche that, if he was a little more powerful, perhaps he could have what he wanted. Love and attention from you, awe and reverence from hordes of loyal followers. The former struck him as being more ideal, of course, but he shrank into himself as he pictured you with Dottore. Maybe, you’d forgotten about him by now.

What had he done to deserve such cruelty?

“Liyue really is a beautiful place.” You sat on a cracked ledge, legs swinging over the edge where mottled waters ran into yellowed riverbanks. Stone pillars reared from the golden-hued grass, stretching up to the cloudless sky in proud dilapidation - ancient reminders of what once was. Your appreciation for beauty and the arts, however, was not shared by Dottore.

“An excellent research facility, too. If only those pesky Adepti stopped meddling.” Dottore joined in your musings, although it was more off putting than anything. He took your lack of response as agreement and grinned at you, despite your gaze being fixed to the scenery.

Would you never look at him the way you looked at ruined things? You seemed to have an interest in broken sights, whether it was the sorry remains of some old temple, or the pathetic being that was the Balladeer. Somehow, Dottore simply couldn’t understand why you just didn’t show an interest in him. Why, of all people, did you choose Scaramouche to be the object of your attention?

One thing the Doctor and the Balladeer had in common was that you were a mystery to them. An unsolvable conundrum, an inexplicable gravitational force. Although you ran through their minds at every passing second, all their thoughts about you seemed to end in questions, a crude mockery of your relationship with them. A mere question mark - although it presented opportunities, it also served to represent a lack of any solid connection.

How ironic.

You plagued Scaramouche’s nightmares. Simply seeing you, even in his mind, brought unimaginable twists of emotion he couldn’t hope to control - tendrils of disgusting anger and obsession stretching towards you in pathetic, yearning attempts to bring you closer.

Scaramouche’s dreams always went the same way. It’d begin with him standing a few meters behind you, slowly approaching your form with an almost embarrassing shyness. His non-existent heart would flutter, just as countless novels had described. You’d slowly turn, the sweetest smile on your heavenly features - but your gaze wasn’t trained on the Balladeer. Rather, it looked behind him. To where Dottore emerged, and suddenly Scaramouche couldn’t breathe, his throat constricting as he watched his fellow harbinger draw you in by the waist.

Scaramouche would desperately scramble after you, but his limbs would fail as they fell heavily against the ground, his puppet parts juddering to a halt as he was left immobile behind you. He’d stretch out his hand as you laughed and kissed Dottore, a scream forming in the artificial canal of his throat. At this part of the nightmare, it’d often feel as though Scaramouche could no longer be contained by such a vessel - as though he already possessed the wrath of a god, and the intensity of his emotions leaked from his creaking joints.

He’d continue screaming as your figure disappeared with Dottore, and didn’t stop even after he could no longer see you. He’d simply continue, until his vocal chords hung slack like the strings of a violin did when the pegs slipped. He’d wake up with a shout still lodged in his throat, panting in the frigid darkness. A darkness that was too cold, too quiet, without you.

Scaramouche, after encountering these nightmares one too many times, had had enough. He made up his mind to see you again, confess all his feelings, and leave before he could face any negative repercussions. It was unlike him to take such risks, but his path to godhood was almost completed - and any vengeance you developed towards him would be quashed by his elevated status. The last thing he could do whilst he was still completely himself was make sure you knew what you’d done to him, right? Surely, after all that had happened, the Balladeer wouldn’t have lingering hope… right?

It was a pleasantly warm day when Scaramouche visited you. He entered the camp you’d set up with a completely uncharacteristic nervousness, his voice almost wavering as he called for you.

“Balladeer! What brings you here?” You emerged from the ruins upon hearing Scaramouche, your cheeks flush from running. You held a basket of local Liyuen specialties. Presumably, you’d just gotten back from foraging.

“What are those for?” Scaramouche pointed to the basket. He was supposed to coldly serve his mechanical heart to you and let you tear it open for his own sense of closure, but he wanted to procrastinate that part of the plan.

“Oh, this? I picked some Jueyun Chillis and other things I found nearby. Dottore’s been working hard lately, so I wanted to make him a nice meal.”

“A homemade meal for the Dottore? Don’t be ridiculous, he’d never appreciate that.” Scaramouche scoffed. He’d appreciate it, though - the Balladeer decided that if you did something like that for him, he’d savour it much more than the Doctor ever could.

“I’m sure he’d like it,” you sighed, “as he always seemed to enjoy the other meals I made for him. Unlike you.”

“You never made me any meals.” Scaramouche wasn’t sure what to be upset about - you cooking meals for another man, or the fact that you thought he wouldn’t treasure anything and everything you made for him.

“No, I meant- never mind. Please forgive my insolence, Balladeer.” You cut yourself off, awkwardly bowing and trying to sidle past the man blocking your way.

“Going back to formalities, now? Do you talk like this to Dottore? How friendly are you with him?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I… Because you’re honoured enough to be loved by me.” Scaramouche scowled, wincing as he braced himself.

“I thought you loved Haypasia.”

“She’s nothing but a follower. You’re different, though. You’re an equal, you… When I become a god, you can sit by my side. And if you want, you can use me too. Just don’t leave me.” Scaramouche’s preplanned dialogue has gone completely off track and he was now unloading all of his trauma in a desperate attempt to make you stay. Perhaps his lingering hope for reciprocation was a little more than just a sliver of want.

“So? What are you going to say? If you want to push me away, then do it now and get it over with.” Scaramouche checked for any signs of a reaction.

“No, I’m just surprised. I guess… I never really thought the person I’d loved for years would ever confess to me.” You mumbled.

“You…” Scaramouche blinked, as your words finally registered in his mind. He could barely contain his elation. It was too warm for his liking, and he hadn’t yelled at his subordinates in a while, and he still hadn’t eliminated Dottore - but what did it matter? He was so happy, so full that it felt as though his mannequin limbs would melt. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing except you, and your lips, lips which were moving closer to his (had he leaned in, or had you?) - Scaramouche could only close his eyes and relax into your affections. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, not that he had to with his lips on yours, but he felt butterflies erupt in his mind, thoughts stopping and starting in fast paced staccato.

“I love you.” Scaramouche could only mumble the words, as his chest felt full, empty space and darkness filled only with you. You, the only one that mattered. It was all for you.

“I love you too.” You replied, barely more than a whisper. Your eyes betrayed that there were still many questions left unanswered, many loose ends to be tied up in your sloppy reunion. But somehow, even you were happy enough to not care.

“I thought you liked Dottore.” Scaramouche murmured from where his head had slotted into your neck, resting perfectly in the juncture like a fitted puzzle piece.

“No, I was just trying to make you jealous. He’s a good colleague, but nothing more.”

“Don’t do that again.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t talk to him from now on, because you’re mine. Got it?”

“He’s my superior, Scaramouche. I can’t just ignore the person I’m working with.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try.” The arms around your waist hugged you tighter. You’d never have thought that the Balladeer would have you in his embrace, much less even fathom how open he was with his emotions. Of course, he’d found it hard to share, but seeing as it turned out so well, he guessed he could do it more often.

“I… have to go now. You might hear some news from Sumeru, but just ignore it, okay? I’ll be a god soon, just like I always wanted, and then we can be together. Forever.” Scaramouche finally mustered the willpower to pull away, his hands and eyes still lingering on you, as if to commit every detail to memory.

“Will you still be you…?” You asked cautiously.

“I’ll be me, but a bit wiser, perhaps. Some things might change, but no matter what, I’ll still be the one you love.”

It was more a statement than a reassurance, but you couldn’t care less as you bid your new lover a sweet farewell with a kiss on the cheek.

The soon-to-be god left with a slight spring in his step.

It was almost mocking, how fleetingly Scaramouche’s happiness passed. He’d felt invincible, thoughts of you bringing him comfort as he carried out the ending phases of his plans.

However, this was not supposed to happen. Scaramouche was supposed to be a deity now, capable of unimaginable feats. He was supposed to have Teyvat at his fingertips, and celebrate his birth as a god with you.

So why was he falling?

Why, after everything he’d been through and overcome, had he failed?

The young dendro archon and the traveller had meddled yet again in the Fatui’s plans, and he’d lost everything - even the gnosis.

He’d probably lost you, too. You probably wouldn’t even want to look at him anymore. Who would love a broken, battered prototype of a failed god?

Sickening disappointment surged through Scaramouche as he continued falling from the shell of his other form, the tubes that’d wired him to it hanging severed from its gaping maw. Despite all this, however, Scaramouche couldn’t bring himself to hate. He couldn’t feel the overwhelming surge of rage anymore, only bitter realisation.

He’d been born as a failure, and he’d die as one too - if only the world was merciful enough to grant him something as peaceful as death. The last thought that flashed through Scaramouche’s mind before he plummeted to the floor was a question.

Would you be disappointed in him?

Scaramouche didn’t see you for a while. He wanted to, but he didn’t wish for you to see him in such a broken state. He truly was unlovable, unworthy of affection from someone like you. If you were to lay your eyes upon him, would you be disgusted by his mere existence? A wrathful puppet that dared to foolishly hope for mortal love and immortal power.

The ex-harbinger decided he wished to start anew. He convinced himself that, if he had a second chance, he could build a relationship with you the proper way. This time, he wouldn’t hurt you.

When Scaramouche escaped from Nahida and the traveller following some sort of rehabilitation plan they wanted to enact on him, he hesitated before he erased all traces of himself from the Irminsul. If he proceeded, every memory he made with you - good and bad - would be erased. You wouldn’t know him, not even as the Balladeer. He’d be nothing more than a stranger.

But strangers could still become lovers, right?

This wasn’t a curse, it was a second chance to rebuilt a life with you. And Scaramouche would do anything to have it.

With one final intake of breath, he concentrated his powers - and erased his own existence.

“Can I help you with something?” You looked at the strangely dressed nomad that’d appeared outside where you were staying in the heart of Sumeru. Your research with Dottore had recently come to an end, and you were on a sort of holiday whilst you awaited your next order.

“Oh.”

The wanderer’s deep purple eyes were wide as they looked into yours, a sharpness you couldn’t quite place. A piercing pain split your forehead as you staggered back for a second. Lately, you’d been feeling empty - as though you had forgotten something important. Reporting to your designated superior, the Doctor, felt unnatural. Your heart yearned for something that didn’t exist, and it brought on a sense of dull frustration.

“Uh… hello?” You smiled politely as the man continued to say nothing else, simply staring as though he was shocked by your presence.

“You. Are you busy right now?” The man suddenly snapped out of his daze, a commanding tone in his otherwise collected voice. He spoke with a sharpness one would expect of a feared authority figure, although his clothes suggested he was a mere wanderer.

What an odd man, indeed. But something about him seemed to fill whatever your heart had forgotten.

“No, I’m not busy… why?” You asked cautiously.

“I’m staying in the room next door, and I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me. I made extra.” The wanderer offered, although his tone made it sound like an order.

“Oh, of course.” You were undeniably hungry - you’d neglected your own meals for some time now, lacking the motivation to eat anything with that depressive mood. It was as though you couldn’t bear to eat alone, without a certain person you longed for but didn’t recognise.

“Good.” The man beckoned you over.

“What’s your name, by the way…? It feels like I know you from somewhere.”

“… You can call me whatever you wish, but I go by the Wanderer these days. Also, I do believe this is our first time meeting.”

“Wanderer, huh…”

It was a name you didn’t remember, attached to a face you suddenly couldn’t forget.

For some inexplicable reason, you felt yourself compelled to keep this strange man company.

You didn’t love another, and nor did he - but, like blank slates, the two of you would have to learn to love each other again.

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scaranation · 1 year

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hey? how are u? i hope ur doin well.... I really love your writing....can u do a little headcanon for me... where y/n and alhaitham watch a horror movie together???

HESYESYEA THIS IS SO CUTE ❤️❤️ this might be a bit short but i added as much as i could think of (i need to stop writing so many alhaitham fics but this man has been on my mind as well 😭)

༊*·˚ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Pairing: Alhaitham x GN!reader

Content: fluff, comfort, minor horror scene descriptions, established relationship

Let’s be honest, there’s no way Alhaitham would be scared by a horror movie. He’d condescendingly point out all the rotoscoping errors, scoff at the cheap jump scares and scrutinise the plot points with the intensity of a movie critic.

While you were shaking beside him, hands clammy with sweat, he’d muse about the feasibility of the scenes.

“Blood splatters mostly away from the point of impact, even in this very far-fetched situation wherein…”

“Haitham…” You didn’t hear a word he said, only clutching onto his arm as the camera showed a shot of a grotesquely mangled body. A particularly vivid close-up of grey-clouded eyes rimmed with mutilated flesh had you recoiling, pressing yourself closer into Alhaitham’s side.

He’d reassure you with more facts, assuming that you’d take comfort in logic and reasoning as he did. Secretly enjoying your form pressed closely to his, Alhaitham would criticise the verisimilitude of the movie with a greater fervour in an attempt to calm you down. He couldn’t understand why you feared something that wasn’t real, although he reasoned that you could be more susceptible to biological cues. The tense music was potentially a large contributing factor, Alhaitham decided.

He’d run soothing circles over the back of your hands, murmuring what he thought were words of reassurance as you buried your face into his neck at a particularly tense scene. If you were the one who picked the movie, expect to be teased a little - Alhaitham wouldn’t be able to resist prodding at your frightened demeanour with an amused grin.

Normally, Alhaitham rejected physical touch. But how could he say no, when you were so scared? He’d let you stay in his arms for a while, seeking comfort in his broad shoulders and familiar heat. If you had your face resting near his chest, you’d feel the low vibrations of his chuckles each time you jumped at a scene change.

Whilst your heart would beat in an absolutely unhinged terror, his heart would thrum with love, briefly stopping his movie critiquing to admire your wide-eyed expression. If you seemed like you couldn’t handle it, he’d offer to turn the movie off (or leave the cinema, if you were in one) - Alhaitham was never the kind of person to keep you somewhere against your will. Once he was done with the subtle teasing, his attention would be turned to making sure you were comfortable. Even if he was terrible at that sort of thing, you found his failed attempts at reassurance to be quite endearing.

Watching a horror movie with Alhaitham was probably both the best and worst date idea, but he wasn’t going to complain - there wasn’t much more to ask for when you were nestled against him, so close that he could hear your synced heart palpitations.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin fluff #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham oneshot #genshin headcannons #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham #fluff #alhaitham imagine #i still tag like an ao3 writer #someone help

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

I adore your angst with all my heart but also I BEG you to make a happy ending for the “To Love Another” fic

thank youu i’ve finally stopped procrastinating and started writing that! i’ll probably post it after i finish another one or two requests depending on how motivated i am but it’ll definitely be up soon ❤️❤️

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin angst #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader

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scaranation · 1 year

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HELLOOO can u do one where scara and reader are best friends and scara likes reader but we’re superrrr oblivious and keeps complaining ab how we’re so alone to scara AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHENEVER WE START TALKING AB OUR NEW CRUSHES W HIM

THIS IS SO SWEET OMG shbdhfdhs but hear me out: reader being a super romantic person (like reading lots of ya novels and crushing on basically everyone ) AND SCARA TRYING TO ACT LIKE THE MALE LEADS READER LIKES BUT THEN READER STILL DOESNT REALISE SCARA’S FEELINGS 😭😭

༊*·˚ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader

Content: fluff, pining, modern high school AU

You were constantly dreaming about a distant love you found amongst the pages of your romance novels, flitting around to find your Prince Charming. Scaramouche, your best friend, always felt like the second male lead - perhaps, it was time for him to take matters into his own hands.

Scaramouche was quite a contrary character - volatile, and highly irritable. Most people were surprised to see he was capable of an emotion other than smugness or annoyance, much less being able to display something as absurd as love. And yet, it was apparent to everyone except the object of his affections that he held you in his gaze with a certain tenderness - a tenderness you never noticed.

You, being heavily into romance novels, would constantly gush to your best friend about everything that made your heart flutter. You romanticised anything and anyone, swooning over a new crush almost every week. You were in love with the idea of being in love, and yet, you never saw the love coming from the one closest to you.

“Maybe I’m just destined to be single forever…” You sighed, collapsing onto Scaramouche’s bed. The summer heat clung to you like a second skin, sweat seeping into your collar.

“Can you turn on the fan? It’s so hot in here.” You whined, briefly lifting your head to watch as Scaramouche walked over to switch on the air conditioning.

“Did you get rejected?” He tossed out the question jokingly, despite him hoping for a very specific response.

“I don’t even know anymore… Do you still have ice cream in the freezer?” You rolled over, pressing your face into the mattress with yet another long sigh.

“Do I look like your butler?” Scaramouche, your best friend - and the pretentious prick most people hated - scoffed, rolling his eyes but going to fetch ice cream anyway.

“You’re the best…” You mumbled. Scaramouche prodded your cheek with the cold bowl, holding in his smile at seeing you sit up - your hair messy from rolling around.

“So, what happened with crush number what? Sixteen?”

“I was going to confess, but they looked nervous for some reason and just left before I could say anything. If they really wanted to reject me, they should’ve at least heard me out.” You took in a spoonful of ice cream, pouting.

Scaramouche stared. Perhaps him glaring at that crush of yours every chance he got had really worked in driving them off.

“It’s such a shame, I really wanted my first kiss to be with them today. It’s such a nice idea, you know? Kissing at the lockers after a heartfelt teen confession.” You sighed dreamily.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” Scaramouche replied smoothly, although he felt his heartbeat shudder. You were always babbling about your romance novels, and so he’d read them too - memorised the important lines, studied the male leads’ behaviour. He’d quoted one just now, adrenaline leaping at the possibility you would’ve caught his subtle cue.

Your oblivious self did not. Or at least, you did - but didn’t.

“Oh, isn’t that from Gone with the Wind? I love that book! Did you finally read it?” You squealed excitedly.

“Yes, and it’s complete idiocy. Just as I expected.” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, looking away. His gaze flitted back to you quickly to scan for your reaction, his lips turning downwards at the lack of a blush on your face.

“Aww, did you enjoy it at least a little?”

“No, I should blame you for wasting my time.” Scaramouche feigned annoyance, but he didn't mind.

"It's such a good book though! How could you not?" You huffed, but changed the topic as your attention span stretched thin. Scaramouche chuckled at your behaviour, watching you in rapt attention as you continued rambling on about your love life.

He was conflicted. He enjoyed resting beside you and simply listening to you happily talk, but it filled him with sickening jealousy knowing you could make yourself love anyone but him.

When would you finally notice him?

The truth was, although Scaramouche was never one for literature, he’d somewhat enjoyed Gone with the Wind, in a roundabout way. He’d found himself in the alienated, self-proclaimed “dishonoured” character that was Rhett Butler. Despite the character’s cynical personality, he held an undying love for the heroine - although their relationship had failed due to his inability to express that love, and the heroine pining after another man. As much as Scaramouche hated to admit, it was a crude allegory of his current predicament. He was, irrevocably, the second male lead - either that, or a mere side character trapped forever in the friend zone. Your hyper-receptive behaviour towards others and obliviousness when it came to him was proof of that, and it was displayed now more clearly than ever.

Scaramouche’s hands clenched into fists as his usual mask of annoyance slipped into one of - miraculously - even deeper annoyance.

You’d found yourself infatuated with another person (or was it crush number nine for the second time?) and Scaramouche could barely contain his jealousy. He’d been dropping hints left and right, but for someone who spent most of their time immersed in romantic texts, you remained as ignorant as ever to his almost blatant advances. You’d been staring at your latest crush throughout class, barely even paying attention to what was going on.

"They're so dreamy..." You sighed, idly doodling the face of your aforementioned crush in the pages of your notebook.

"No, they're not. They stink, have you smelled them after gym?" Scaramouche prodded your side, drinking in the adorably irritated look on your face. His eyes roved over your every feature, wondering if one day they'd stretch into some semblance of the affection he so desperately craved from you.

"I can tolerate that."

"Oh yeah? What can't you tolerate, then?"

"Good question. They could punch me and I'd be thankful." You flopped onto the desk in a melodramatic display. If you punched Scaramouche, he'd probably be confused and concerned about your mood. Was it really love you felt for your crushes, or just a forced obsession?

"You're so childish." Scaramouche scoffed. He had a way of filtering his thoughts so the only thing that came out of his mouth were the mean parts - a habit he'd have to try and fix. Your beloved Mr Darcy would never behave so crudely.

"And you have a big mouth." You snapped, turning away to gaze at your crush again with exaggerated excitement.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

Scaramouche's fiery temper could surprisingly carry over to his love life. In a moment of impulsiveness, he'd (rather rudely) make sure you knew how he felt - as if he was entitled to your love. Before that however, he possessed some patience, so it'd taken a while for him to get to that point.

"When will someone ever like me back? If only real life could be like the books." You grumbled. Crush number seventeen had been a failure, and you moped about dejectedly.

“The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you.” Scaramouche responded, looking you straight in the eye.

“The Illustrated too now? I’m proud, it seems you have been reading all my recommendations!” You perked up. Your gleeful expression made Scaramouche’s heart soften, but at the same time, a sense of irritation worked its way into his restless heart.

“You know, if you talked a bit more about what you read, I can find better books for you.” You added.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

“Oh, I love a good Jane Austen-”

“Stop it.” Scaramouche’s patience finally snapped and in an instant you found your back against the wall, his arm propped up beside you.

“I like you, okay? Like how your silly little book characters love each other. That’s how I feel, for you. I’m tired of having to spell it out, just so you can understand!” Scaramouche scowled. You stared in surprise.

“Are you… confessing to me right now?”

“Yes! For god’s sake, what else would this be?”

“So you meant those quotes, all this time?”

“Of course I did.” Scaramouche winced. He really was desperate - his former self would’ve laughed at him for doing something as self-deprecating as reciting romantic lines. Such frivolous behaviour, and yet he’d do it again, just for you.

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed red with that expression Scaramouche had longed to see, your eyes suddenly uncertain to meet his gaze. How could you be so endearing, rendering him so enamoured with your mere existence? He felt himself falling for you even further, until you opened your mouth and promptly reminded him of your naivety.

“So… does that mean we’re like, dating now?” You asked.

For a romantic, you definitely were clueless.

“Yes, if you’d like.” Scaramouche replied.

You didn’t give a verbal answer, but Scaramouche felt it in the shy push of your hand against his as your fingers intertwined, the accepting way you leaned into him.

He should’ve found you annoying. He should’ve been extremely irritated long ago, but for some reason, there he was - secretly over the moon at finally being the main love interest of your life.

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

Loved your angst works sm... Can i request Diluc/Ayato/Ningguang x gn reader where reader is d worded already

thank youu angst is always so fun (but painful) to write 😭 this prompt was so good i loved doing it sm, hope you enjoy

༊*·˚ 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

Content: angst, reader death, established relationship

ft. Diluc, Ayato, Ningguang

DILUC

For a moment, he could only kneel by your body in denial. Despite his pyro vision, a freezing sensation gripped his chest - seizing it in an icy grasp, although not as cold as the morbid embrace he held you in.

Your patchy, frayed messenger bag was still slung loosely over your limp shoulders, its contents spilling out. Carefully packaged food sitting in the pools of your blood. The lunchbox still bore your crimson-stained fingerprints, as though the last thing you thought of was delivering a meal to your lover.

“I told you not to go after me…” Diluc’s eyes squeezed shut as that terrifying, overwhelming cold thawed into searing anger.

“I told you, it was dangerous.” A trembling hand brushed your hair out of your face, delicately tracing your features - still fixed so prettily, even without the life that coloured them.

He only kept his hand gently braced against your cool skin, desperately trying to ignore the redness blooming in your chest, the sticky feeling webbed between his fingers. The scarlet hue seemed to engulf him, flame transforming into the most twisted form of anger - a guttural scream bordering on a sob left his lips, red and chapped with how hard he’d bitten them to stifle his previous cries.

Red was a complicated colour. It was the love you’d given him, a love you’d never have run out of. The pleasant warmth, the heavy infatuation, the fiery passion Diluc had felt for you. It was the colour of blood, which cutely tinted your cheeks red whenever he leaned into you. Red was also the colour of blinding anger, dark crimson and bitter in nature.

Red was all Diluc saw as he threw himself into slaughtering and infiltrating the Fatui following your passing. As if the rivers of blood he spilt could make up for the blood that no longer ran through your veins, as if the pain he inflicted could measure up to the pain he felt. Perhaps, this too was a form of coping. Busying himself in such matters rarely left him alone with his thoughts - thoughts that inevitably wandered to you.

He’d visit your grave whenever possible, sitting there for hours on end. He’d declined to have you buried behind the Mondstadt cathedral, instead opting for you to lay near the shaded grapevines of the winery. You’d always adored that place, remarking on its fairytale-like scenery. Diluc could only hope you were happy with resting there forever, eternally engulfed in the warmth of benevolent sunshine. Maybe, if things had gone differently, he’d be running with you through those vines and lawns - laughing beneath the cloudless sky. Although, he was simply grateful that he could still lay with you in the shade. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel your caress.

AYATO

The Commissioner lived in a political web. Sinewy tendrils of sticky silk stretching from person to person, forming an intricate lattice of relations and lies. Like a spider, he'd learned how to navigate those thin iridescent paths - knowing where to step, and how to weave it to his will. Countless others had become entangled in his traps, hopelessly ensnared.

But you'd gotten caught in his web, too. How cruel it was, that he could only remain neutral, that he could only school his expression into one of controlled stoicism. He couldn't even hold you in his arms as he wished, forced to stand back and watch as the crowd of people in the courtyard hushed.

You lay on the tiled ground, eyes glazed over.

"How did this happen?" Ayato was shocked at the coolness of his tone. His hands dug into fists, concealed by his long sleeves. The early morning sun peeked tepidly over the gated estate, as though even it was scared to show its face.

"We are unsure, my lord. They were found here in the morning, it appears to be an assassin sent by a political rival."

"Find them at once. Everyone is dismissed from the courtyard."

"Yes, my lord."

In the quiet of dawn, your lover was finally alone. As he sank to his knees by your side, he was no longer the Commissioner, nor was he the head of the Kamisato clan. At that moment, he was simply Ayato. And he felt rather like a small child - pressing his hands to your cold face in an almost juvenile hope that you'd smile for him again.

"I'm sorry... for ever meeting you." Ayato held your hand, eyes brimming with unshed tears. If only you didn't know him, then you wouldn't have gotten caught in the crossfire. If you hadn't been stuck in his web, you'd still be alive.

Ayato hated himself, for being so selfish. Selfish for daring to bring you into his life, selfish for basking in your love - only to be the cause of your premature demise.

In those minutes, he was weak and vulnerable. Out of public view, Ayato could let his tears fall freely. He hadn't been there for you, even in your last moments. When you'd given him unimaginable happiness, what had he given you...? For a Commissioner who seemed to have everything, he realised it was never enough, or at least not for you.

Following your death, Ayato would drown himself in work again. For a while, he sought revenge in the futile hope that it would honour you - but in his heart, he knew he only wanted it in the name of selfish repentance. He'd never truly move on, finding time in his busy schedule to visit you whenever possible.

How lovely it would be, to be unchained from his own web? Ayato wanted nothing more than to be freed from the burden of responsibility - perhaps then, he could lay down beside you and finally rest for a while.

NINGGUANG

Surprisingly, there was a very big difference between a lovers' oath and a lover's oath. The position of one apostrophe could change the meaning entirely. The former was made and upheld by two or more partners, whereas the latter was kept by only one.

The oath Ningguang had made with you to stay by each other’s side forever had turned from a lovers’ oath into a lover’s oath, with her being the lone lover seated by your side, holding your limp hand. Although you wouldn’t be able to stay with her, she’d still treasure you - even if it was in her memories.

Your death wasn’t sudden, or unexpected. You’d been severely ill for some time, and Ningguang had known you were slipping away. The Tianquan had devoted all the time she could into caring for you, sparing no expense when it came to finding a cure. But even Baizhu couldn’t prevent the inevitable.

You lay in the bed, eyes closed peacefully - making you look as though you were merely slumbering. A faint smile was etched into your face, as if you’d had a pleasant dream. Ningguang smiled bitterly, barely registering the wetness of tears falling down her cheeks. If you were dreaming, then she could only hope that she was part of it.

Like a tangent, you and Ningguang had crossed paths, only for those lines to stretch away from each other once more. Although you had continuously insisted that the mere fact that you’d met her was a miracle, Ningguang couldn’t help the emptiness that came with your absence. Your warmth was gone, your voice no longer echoed around the Jade Chamber. Ningguang would never smile at your victorious expression after she let you win a game of Go, and there would be no more peaceful afternoons sharing stories over tea.

Ningguang was very busy, but she’d set aside her schedule to mourn. Her grief was not sharp and intense, only numb and gradual. It came in the unremarkable hours of the evening, when she’d turn her head to show you something and realise you weren’t there. It’d be in the emptiness of her desk, lacking the little trinkets you’d put there. It’d come, uninvited and unanticipated, when Ningguang’s fingers subconsciously reached out for a hand that wasn’t there.

She’d often sit by your graveside in quiet contemplation, simply feeling the time pass and watching the skies darken. Lotuses were beautiful flowers, born from mud. In a way, their existence was quite poetic - symbolising hope for a better existence despite humble beginnings. Ningguang herself had begun in a hopeless place, although she believed the metaphor described you better. Amidst the folly of Liyue Harbour, you were the lotus bloom. Perhaps, you were simply too good for this world.

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

Ah… you said GN reader for your albaitham fic but the reader has been mentioned to be a girl…?

If it’s not GN pls make sure it’s not mentioned as GN….

ohh ok! i might've done that by mistake, i've changed it now <3

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

HII I SAW UR REQUESTS WERE OPEN!!! your writing is so amazing i couldn’t resist sending one in after i had binged everything…

may i request headcanons for a totally whipped al-haitham with the childhood friends to lovers trope throughout the years? as in how he was to reader in elementary, middle school, etc. but if not that’s fine!!! your fic with him liking reader since middle school was so 😭😭😭❤️ reader teasing him was so funny and i can’t scream about it hard enough 🥹

i hope you have an amazing day!!! keep up the good work!

thank you smm that rlly means a lot! im so glad you enjoyed my writing ❤️❤️ i love the friends to lovers trope sm writing this involved a lot of giggling and kicking my feet, whipped Alhaitham is just so cute. Anyway I hope you like this I had so much fun with it too 😋😋

༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

Pairing: Alhaitham x F!reader

Content: fluff, modern AU, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, (very) whipped Alhaitham

ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

You’d first met Alhaitham when you were in elementary. He, being slightly younger, was in preschool. Unlike the other kids, he kept to himself, mainly studying a picture book in a secluded corner. Your play areas were separated by a low fence, one which you often loved to climb over.

“Haitham!” You almost fell onto the grass after scaling this fence once again in the break time, peeking over the smaller boy’s shoulder.

“Is that a kangaroo?” You pointed at the picture book enthusiastically. Alhaitham only looked up at you, blinking a few times with his wide green-orange eyes.

“No, it’s a pademelon.” He spoke surprisingly eloquently, tongue only slightly lisping over the syllables.

“You’re no fun.” You sighed, plopping down next to your self-proclaimed friend and beginning to draw flowers on paper with your new crayons. Upon seeing the curious look on Alhaitham’s face, you handed him the green crayon.

“You can draw flowers with me if you want.” You shifted closer. The boy said nothing, only holding the crayon tightly as he watched you happily scribbling.

Once you’d befriended Alhaitham, there was no turning back. He was shy and quiet, but utterly attached to you. You nodded excitedly whenever he babbled on about a new topic, although you never really understood what he was talking about, and played imaginary games with him in the playhouses. He never really understood the imaginative concept, but you would lead the way as he followed along with whatever you said.

“I am the princess, and I am going to become the queen! Bow before me!” You manoeuvred a figurine across the miniature castle.

“No, the crown prince’s wife will become queen when he ascends to the throne.”

“Oh, okay. You’re so cool, Haitham.”

Alhaitham only smiled at you. The truth was, he thought you were the coolest person in the world. He might know all the logistical facts, but he could never weave a story as you did.

“Huh? Haitham, you’re the knight. You need to go to battle!”

Alhaitham was shaken out of his daze when he realised he’d only been staring at you in awe, quickly grabbing the knight figure to move it. Beneath his long lashes, he’d constantly sneak glances at you - looking for your approval that he was doing the right thing.

Whenever you were absent, Alhaitham would ask everyone else where you’d gone. After verifying that - unfortunately - you really weren’t coming to school and shocking his peers with his sudden friendliness, he’d retreat to the outskirts of the play area. He would collect flowers and rocks, gathering them in his small arms - still a little chubby with baby fat - determined to find the best things to gift to you.

When you came back the next day, Alhaitham would shyly press the gifts he’d collected into your hands, eagerly watching your expression. If you smiled, he would too. Truly, although he was too young to know, you were his first love and the centre of his universe.

MIDDLE SCHOOL

During middle school, you and Alhaitham were in the same class. Due to his intellect, he’d been bumped up by a grade - much to his joy. The truth was, he’d been offered to move higher by two grades, but opted to only move one so he could be with you. Not that he’d ever admit that to you, of course.

Middle school Alhaitham would be better at hiding his feelings. He’d no longer be the the eager boy who openly chased your attention, although he still wanted it just as much. Rather, he’d deploy more subtle tactics, despite them rarely ever working.

It was undeniable that you were quite popular. Given your outgoing, virtuosic personality, you were constantly surrounded by friends. It hurt Alhaitham slightly, knowing that you were his favourite but he wasn’t yours. Despite this, he never changed his aloof demeanour - acting coldly to others, and less coldly to you. It was clear through his gestures that he had a soft spot for you, whether it consisted of paying for your lunch or bringing you snacks.

“Oh, we were supposed to bring a protractor to the test?” You hissed in the silence of the classroom, broken only by the whisper of pencils on paper. The teacher shot you a glare, motioning for you to be quiet.

“Here, I have a spare.” You felt a light tap on your shoulder, and spun around to see Alhaitham holding his hand out. His eyes hesitated before locking into contact with yours, the glasses making them look larger than they were.

“Thank you. You’re so cute, Haitham.” You whispered, shooting him a wry smile before resuming your position hunched over the test paper. You didn’t lie - he really did look adorable, those large eyes and small frame lending him to having a rather endearing disposition.

Alhaitham flushed red, his hands fumbling to close the zipper on his pencil case. He pushed his completed test paper to the side and placed his head on the desk, the hard surface cold on his burning skin. He mentally praised himself for always bringing a spare of every stationery item, just in case you needed it.

Whilst Alhaitham swatted away anyone else who dared ask him for academic help, he’d be almost eager to give you any form of assistance. If you were paying attention, you’d see the way his cheeks flushed when you leaned in to copy his homework, or the slight tremor in his voice when he explained a concept to you. Middle school Alhaitham - now hyper aware of his feelings for you - would be a stuttering mess at times, although that would soon change in his high school years.

“So, after completing the square… this equation can translate to- hey, why are you staring at me?” Alhaitham stopped upon noticing your gaze.

“Haitham, you can be so pretty if you tried a little more. I’m so jealous, you have such nice eyes.” You commented, running your fingers through his soft hair.

“… Why would I seek the superficial approval of others?” Alhaitham huffed, crossing his arms. Secretly however, your words spiralled in his head. Perhaps, if he did as you said, you’d like him too…?

He realised your hand was still on his head, and moved back. You whined in exasperation, flopping onto the desk.

“Your hair’s so soft though…” You mumbled, reaching out again.

“We’re here to study.” Alhaitham snapped, busying himself in flipping through the textbook to hide his red face. He found the content mundane, but teaching it to you made his heart flutter in knowing that he could be of use to you.

HIGH SCHOOL

Alhaitham in high school was drastically different from his middle school self, to say the least. He’d risen greatly in popularity for being the mysteriously smart and handsome student that barely paid anyone any mind. Much to your surprise, he’d grown even taller than you - making it a lot harder to ruffle his hair. It was rumoured that he’d brutally rejected confessions from many others, and had even made a teacher cry - but the shy boy you knew would never do that, right?

“Where are you headed?” You felt a large hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’m… going to study!” You stammered, finally looking behind you to meet a piercing amber gaze.

“Studying? On your way to the bus stop that leads only to the mall?” Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.

“Um, yes, a new cafe opened there and I wanted to study in it.”

“Hey, what’s taking you so long? We’re going to miss the movie at this rate!” You internally cursed as the loud voice of your friends interrupted your conversation.

“Studying, huh… Well, have fun. Don’t expect me to help you this time.” Alhaitham scoffed, releasing his grip on your shoulder.

He sent you his notes later that night regardless.

It was well known around your school that you were friends with Alhaitham, although you vehemently denied any romantic feelings between the two of you - much to his dismay. Because of this, you often had students approaching you and asking to be set up with Alhaitham. Of course, being the epitome of moral excellency, you only agreed if they paid you.

"You know, this girl in my class is pretty cute..." You showed Alhaitham a picture on your phone.

"You like her?" Alhaitham asked, not even sparing a glance to the picture.

"No, I..."

"How much did they pay you this time?"

"What! I would do no such thing-"

"You know, if you just asked me, I could give you way more than whatever they're giving you. Stop trying to auction me off, I have no interest in such things." Alhaitham snapped his book shut. You frowned, tugging on his arm.

"Please? Just one date with her, I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"Kiss me."

"Why?"

"Wouldn't it be awkward if I were on a date with this girl, and I didn't even know how to kiss her?"

"Oh, true." Alhaitham internally winced at how you didn't give it a second thought, only leaning in to seal your lips together. Although he'd mastered the art of maintaining a cool facade, if you'd opened your eyes in that moment, you'd see the flush in his face. He reminded himself to close his eyes, recalling the countless books he'd read about the topic. It definitely wasn't how he'd imagined his first kiss with you to be, but he'd take anything you gave him.

"Now, you're going on that date right? Here's her number." You winked, pulling away. Alhaitham furiously tugged his headphones onto his ears to hide how red they were, shooing you away.

"I'll text you her number then, Haitham!"

You ignored the confusing twist in your chest, attributing it to the kiss. After all, sharing a kiss with anyone would make you flustered - surely, it was nothing special.

Regardless of your efforts to make whatever dates you sent Alhaitham on successful, it never seemed to work. In truth, you had no idea how Alhaitham knew you'd been spying on those dates - after all, you were so inconspicuous, posing as a mere passerby. But he'd grown used to your exact demeanour, and no matter how hard you tried to be nondescript, his eyes were inevitably drawn to you. Unbeknownst to you, your eyes were drawn to him too - perhaps that was why you felt a slight twinge in your heart.

"Which popcorn do you like?" The girl next to Alhaitham giggled nervously.

"Salted caramel." Alhaitham responded cooly. Your jaw hung open from where you sat hidden behind a poster wall. Whenever you got salted caramel popcorn - your absolute favourite - he'd raise an eyebrow and inform you of your poor decision making, muttering something about the awful taste. You closed your mouth to smile to yourself. Perhaps he was trying to impress his date with his (superior) choice of popcorn. Your smile faltered when you realised how close they were standing to each other, before you mentally cursed yourself. What were you thinking? Surely you didn’t… have feelings for the very guy you were setting up with another girl…?

You followed the pair into the cinema, sitting a row behind them. They'd chosen a horror movie, which you absolutely hated, but you bore with it.

A few minutes into the film, you felt a tap on your knee. Alhaitham held out a fistful of popcorn to you from where he sat in front, his arm outstretched behind him. You scowled. He'd shown no prior indication that he'd noticed you - did he have eyes in the back of his head? You took the popcorn anyway, frowning at how Alhaitham played it off by lowering his arm around the girl's shoulders.

As the movie continued, Alhaitham wished it was you seated next to him. He hated the popcorn, but he'd gotten it just for you, anyway. His heart beat a little louder every time you reluctantly accepted his offering, although he had to glare at the girl who'd stolen your spot every few minutes to make sure she didn't think he was blushing for her. How troublesome this ordeal was. From an objective perspective however, this was fair exchange. If it made you happy, then he was happy too.

Alhaitham wasn't particularly athletically inclined, although his scholarship demanded participation in extracurricular sports. Hence, he found himself in the odorous male changing rooms for the second time that week. It would've been a mundane practice session (with him showing off a little if you happened to be watching), until he overheard a teammate's plans to ask you out.

"You should do it, I'm pretty sure she's single." Another teammate encouraged the first, the echo of a slap on the back reverberating through the room.

Alhaitham frowned. He'd planned to play the long game, although this was an unexpected interruption to his plans. Of course, there were other people to factor in. How could he have been so foolish as to exclude that from the equation?

"Yeah, I've had my eye on her for a while." The first guy spoke again.

"She's taken." Alhaitham blurted. Blurted, as in - his mind didn't fully weigh the decision before it left his mouth in a measured tone.

"Oh, sorry man. Are you two...?"

"Yes, we are." Alhaitham lied smoothly. He'd figure out how to deal with the repercussions later, but for now, he had to prevent anyone else from asking you out.

"That's great. Wish the best for you two." With a friendly (although slightly forceful) pat on the shoulder, the teammate left Alhaitham to head outside.

Alhaitham’s confession to you was ultimately very enigmatic and confusing, just as he was. Although he’d more or less practiced what he would say, when it came to you, he was always at a loss. You were a contradiction, a threat - both to his plans and his sanity. Somehow, that was what made him love you so much.

“I’ve heard a rumour that you and I were dating, Haitham. How come I never knew about this?” You tutted.

“Ah, they’re just saying mindless things. We’re just friends, after all.” That was what Alhaitham meant to say. Instead, what came out was;

“So what if we are?”

“We’re dating?” You cocked an eyebrow, failing to hide your flushed cheeks. Alhaitham noted this detail, trying his best to control the situation. What on earth had he just said?

“Yes, we are. Since we both like each other.” Alhaitham explained, internally cursing himself for his straightforward delivery. The situation was so outlandish - he’d just made an assertion, then supported it to somehow (very obviously) gaslight you into being his lover.

“You like me?” You spluttered. Alhaitham smiled. You hadn’t denied that you yourself liked him.

“Yes, because we’re dating.”

“No we’re not.”

“We are now.”

You stared at him in stunned silence, shocked by his audacity. But you couldn’t exactly deny his claims.

“Okay, I guess we are then.” Your mind still spun. Had he just… declared your relationship status?

“… Thank you.” Alhaitham murmured. You fidgeted on the spot uncertainly, before finally mustering the courage to peck his lips. Before you could scurry off however, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.

“What are you-”

“I’ve waited years for this. God, you’re so stupid for not realising this earlier.” Alhaitham brought your lips to his, fiercely bringing you in to a passionate kiss.

You closed your eyes, melting into his touch as his hands deftly pulled you flush against him by your waist. Unsure of where to put your hands, you placed them on his chest - feeling it heave with every breath he took. His heartbeat thudded under your touch.

It was strange. Most people thought of him as being cold, almost robotic. And yet, he was so human now, from the light sheen of sweat on the column of his neck, to the flex of his jaw as it worked against yours. The slight tremble of his hand as it rose to rest on your nape, almost as though he too couldn’t believe what was happening.

The two of you pulled away after a while, panting heavily.

“I’ve… got to go.” Alhaitham muttered, walking off hurriedly before he could embarrass himself further. Nevertheless, it was alright for him to be selfish for once, right? It had seemed to work out in his favour.

Despite however much he tried to soothe himself, Alhaitham’s face was red, and a giddiness bloomed in his heart. Any other student would’ve been shocked to see the tender smile spread across his face, breaking that infuriatingly stoic expression. His childhood friend - and his first love - was now finally his.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin fluff #genshin angst #fluff #alhaitham #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham oneshot #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham angst #genshin headcannons #genshin impact x reader

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

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scaranation · 1 year

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Hey! Can I request something about Zhongli refusing to find a partner for himself due to him being an ex archon and a literal dragon (though only half of it) found reader who just landed in liyue in a quest to expand the business reader started in their very own nation, but zhongli found out that reader was also a dragon in living among humans and took interest upon them cuz apart from dvalin, he hasn't encounter another dragon for millennia

That's all ♥️

Thank you for this I had so much fun writing! Sorry this took so long I completely forgot what an inbox was 🥲🥲 (i’m not sorry abt the title tho)

༊*·˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘

Pairing: Zhongli x GN!reader

Content: fluff, broke Zhongli

After ages of being amongst the only dragons he knew of, Zhongli finally finds another like him - a person he begins to hope he can pursue more than the trivialities of mortal love with.

“Hm.” Zhongli leaned back in his seat as he stared at the paperwork in front of him. A new business had recently entered the Liyuen market, specialising in gifts. It was an admirable scheme - the enterprise had taken over many small souvenir businesses, rendering it a prominent influence in Inazuma, the region from which it’d been started. Furthermore, the business was also listed as being part of the gift giving and floral arrangement markets, allowing it to merge multiple companies whilst still abiding by competition laws. Zhongli nodded to himself. Truly, the one who’d headed this ludicrous venture would’ve had to have possessed great ambition.

It reminded the man of his days as a young archon - the youthful drive and greed spurred on by his draconic traits.

“Zhongli! Are you ready? We’re going to meet them now.” Hu Tao’s chipper tone jerked Zhongli out of his thoughts.

“Ah, yes.” He gathered the files on his desk, checking the time. They were supposed to have left ten minutes ago for a meeting with the aforementioned business in hopes of forming a partnership - after all, a floral arrangement specialist was undeniably beneficial to a funeral parlour.

“My bad, I appear to have lost track of the time. Hopefully our soon to be partners aren’t too phased.” Zhongli opened the door, before stepping out after Hu Tao. She only laughed, waving her hand nonchalantly as the two proceeded to the arranged location.

“Nice to meet you, Director Hu.” You stood up once your guests finally arrived, grasping the funeral director’s hand to shake it.

“It’s a pleasure. This is our consultant, Zhongli.”

You glanced at the man standing behind the director. A piercing amber gaze, glinting like ancient cor lapis. Despite his shrewd gaze and the way he carried himself - as though he’d been here for millenia - he looked to be a youthful young man, with a pleasantly defined face. You shook away the thought. You hadn’t met another dragon in thousands of years, and of all professions, why would a dragon resort to working as a consultant?

“So, about our potential partnership.” You broke the eye contact you realised you’d been holding with Zhongli, beckoning him and his boss to sit at the table.

“Ah, yes.” Zhongli opened a folder as Hu Tao began to talk, and so the meeting finally started. Between Hu Tao's thinly veiled business ambitions and Zhongli's shrewd remarks, you found yourself preferring the latter. His voice possessed a certain soothing quality, almost making you lose your edge. He talked as if he'd experienced the same meeting countless times before, making suggestions you would've never thought of. With Hu Tao's negotiating and Zhongli's articulate guidance, the exchange flew by. With another firm handshake, you parted ways with Hu Tao and Zhongli, your assistant leaving work early. Both the funeral parlour director and consultant certainly had an interesting character, and the negotiations had gone amicably beyond your expectations.

Similarly, Zhongli also left the meeting in a good mood. He was almost certain you were also a dragon, which piqued his interest greatly. The calculating gaze you'd levelled at him, and the quick-witted contributions you'd made to the meeting. You couldn't possibly be as old as him, but you had clearly experienced much of Teyvat.

Zhongli sighed contentedly. To meet another one like him... Would be an honour indeed.

“What do you mean? These antiques have been professionally verified!” Zhongli sighed as the store owner in front of him spluttered in defence.

“Ah, if you say so.” Zhongli only turned away, unbothered with involving himself in such mundane conflict. He'd decided to take a walk through the harbour and indulge a little in the frivolous joys of mortality, and wanted to preserve his high spirits for longer.

“Wait, young man! What about this necklace? I’ll sell to you for half price, I’m sure your partner would love it.” The store owner made one last attempt at landing a sale.

Zhongli chuckled to himself. He hadn’t taken another lover for ages. Somehow, it simply wasn’t the same to commit himself to a mortal, despite the vessel he’d taken on. Something about the way humans loved was inherently fleeting, unlike the millennia-long romances common amongst dragons. The ex-archon couldn’t bring himself to be interested in a short, fiery burst of superficial passion, and he hadn’t met another dragon - aside from Barbartos’s friend - in ages.

Before Zhongli could retort to the store owner however, a new voice cut through the air.

“Even at half price, that necklace is nowhere near worth how much you’re demanding for it.” You stepped forward, tutting.

“What? This necklace was taken straight from a chest buried in Guili, and polished into this state. The fine embossing proves it. Clearly, you have no eye for quality.” The vendor was turning red. Zhongli turned his gaze to you, amused.

“The embossing work on this is indicative of a technique used long after the Guili area was inhabited in its prime. Furthermore, this material appears to be the smelted remains of lower quality ore - hence the dull gleam. If you wish to swindle customers, at least do it more convincingly.” You ran an unappreciative finger over the necklace, flipping it over in your palm. The store owner snatched it back, seething.

“Well, if you don’t believe in our authenticity, you may as well leave.”

“Of course.” Zhongli, sensing the vendor was becoming exponentially more irate, quickly grabbed your arm and led you away. His grip was firm, yet undemanding. A strange warmth emanated from his touch, prompting you to glance up at him in surprise.

“That was some keen observation. Are you perhaps interested in the history of Liyue?” Zhongli asked, releasing you.

“No, it was merely some… general knowledge from my first hand experiences.”

“You were alive back then?”

“And I’m assuming you were, too.”

“Hm, you would be the first dragon other than myself and Dvalin that I’ve met in quite some time.” Zhongli’s eyes gleamed. You cocked your head, until you found the consultant’s hand enveloping yours in a heat that was almost familiar - like the broad warmth of a sun baked stone.

“Come on, it'd be a shame if someone who'd come all the way from Inazuma didn't have the luxury of seeing Liyue's more authentic stalls."

You nodded, slowly curling your fingers around the man's hand, or at least as much as you could - his hands were quite a lot larger than yours. The contact was nice and unforced, unlike the awkward times you'd had to touch humans. It simply wasn't the same, as with them, it was more like holding a delicate glass. Mortals were so fleeting, their lives so precarious.

After winding through the bustling streets of the harbour, the two of you arrived at another stall selling ores.

“Which one would you like? They seem to be of high quality. I’ll purchase one for you, as a gift.” Zhongli glanced over the assortment of brightly coloured jewels.

“Oh, you really don’t have to.”

“I insist. It’s only proper for me, seeing as you’re a fellow dragon.”

“Alright then, I’ll take the one on the far left.” You gestures towards a lump of noctilucous jade. The lustre suggested it was relatively valuable, but not expensive enough to make you appear impolite.

“That’ll be four hundred mora.” The vendor smiled.

Zhongli slipped a gloved hand into his pockets, fumbling for a while - but not in the way a broke person would. Rather, he did it with a practiced grace, leading you to doubt he had any financial troubles at all. Given their long lifespans, dragons usually amassed much wealth.

“Ah, it appears that I’ve forgotten my wallet. How improper of me.” Zhongli chuckled lightly. You blinked a few times, exchanging a shocked look with the vendor, before reaching for your own wallet.

“I’ll take all the items on display.” You said. The vendor hurried to wrap up all the stones, handing you a relatively heavy bag.

“My apologies, it seems I’m still not accustomed to the mortal way of life. Using mora… What a difficult thing to get used to.” Zhongli mused, although he didn’t appear to be embarrassed at all.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning the man. Dragon or not, most had to be well-acquainted with the currency, especially if they were a citizen of Liyue.

“I believe I forgot to mention, I created mora. Hence, actually using it in practice is quite foreign.”

You spluttered in shock. How could someone admit that they’d founded Teyvat’s primary currency so easily? Zhongli’s orange eyes gleamed in mirth at your surprise.

“Y-you’re… Morax?” You stood stiffly for a moment. You were standing and talking casually to an archon. You briefly wondered if you should bow, and began to kneel - before a firm hand came under your arm to hoist you back up.

“No need, I’ve given up that role. Not many know I was Rex Lapis. I guess by admitting that, I’m placing my trust in you.” You could only continue staring as you processed the information, unaware of the way his touch still lingered at your elbow.

“I…” You were certain there was some form of etiquette you were missing. How did people address deities? Lord? Your highness? Your area of expertise was that of commerce, not honourifics.

Zhongli laughed - the sound deep and comforting - gently closing your open jaw with his finger.

“I was going to gift the ores to you, but I’m scared that’d come off as more of an insult to the Lord of Geo…” You trailed off.

“I’d be more than happy to accept. You and I, we’re much more similar than you think. So don’t feel too pressured around me, alright?” His smile was heavenly. For a moment, you pondered the possibility that people had worshipped him for his handsome features, defined as if from stone itself. A heartbeat later, and you realised that much of the distance between your face and his had vanished. Panicking, you shoved the bag of goods into his chest and scurried away.

“It was nice talking with you! I’ll see you at the next meeting.” You blurted.

“I hope we’ll see each other before then.” Zhongli called as he watched your disappearing figure. He shook his head fondly, holding the bag in one hand and resting the other on his chin. You were so reminiscent of his younger, more draconic self. He could only attribute it to you and him being one and the same species - however rare it was.

Zhongli was simply happy to have found someone like himself - a person that shared the memory.

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