cielur5ww - Tumblr blog

[cielur5ww]

If I were a real man, and I had a cock, every time I would read a sub Scaramouche fanfic or one-shot and on top of that he with a pussy. I would have my cock hard all the time.

[cielur5ww]

Ugh I LOVE john and shaun sm semi off topic his dub voice in the anime is so zesty its so funny, you mean to tell me that man is head over heels for kate?.. nah..

[cielur5ww]

sketchbook scaras

[cielur5ww]

A Real Man

(Art by @dFuma_pQr on Twitter)

He knows how much you desire him. He can't be happier when you gawk at him from the other side of the screen. His heart fills with joy when he feels your thirsty gaze all over him, admiring him, calling him beautiful, letting him know just how crazy you are for him.

It doesn't matter that in your world, he's nothing but a bunch of pixels. Oh, no. In your world, he's less than all he's ever been in his. But that doesn't stop you from loving him. And that's what makes your love so special to him.

It's so unfair that you're so close yet so far away.

That you can't touch each other. It feels as if it's reality laughing in his face all over again. 

Finally, a person who likes him, who loves him, who recognizes him in all his perfectness. But you're out of his reach. Unable to receive the juicy rewards he wants to shower you in. Completely unaware of the fact that he's self aware, that he loves you, that his love is real.

That his feral desire for you is just as strong as yours for him. Or even stronger. Even more implacable.

Oh, the things he would do to you if he could!

He would give you all that you yearn for. Every tiny piece of him, he would let you savor them and lick your fingers afterwards.

If only.

If only he was a real man, he could be by your side and make you happy. To give you back all the joy and affection you've given him.

He's grateful every time you open the game and choose to play with him. It's obvious he's your main and your favorite. You've spent all your primos on him. You've given him a perfect weapon, you look for artifacts for him, determined to find the perfect ones some day. You take him in all your adventures, despite his tsundere attitudes towards you. You're his favorite too. His one and only, to be exact. 

He's just so happy when you speak to him, unaware that he can hear you, and you tell him about your day. He gets to learn more about your life. But it breaks his doll heart that he can't reply to you, that he's tied to limited premade phrases, that he can't tell you his thoughts, his neverending dam of feelings he has for you.

But you don't seem to care. You reply to his dumb observations of the weather and you never get tired of his super cute and adorable idle animations. He even enjoys doing them, because every time he gets an excited squeal from you. You even open the character menu and replay his dialogues every now and then. He'll never forget you even played his birthday phrase on your real birthday, so he was able to actually congratulate you on that day.

That day, he felt so connected to you. Like you finally had an emotional exchange, an interaction.

But it isn't enough for him. He wants to form part of your life for real. 

That's why he wishes he was a real man. This wasn't about being a puppet or an actual human any more. It was about not being a character in a video game. He wonders if the traveler, who is supposed to represent you in the game, is self aware too. Is she truly able to travel dimensions? Would she be able to travel to your world? Would she be able to take him to you?

Is there a chance for him to be a real man? To escape from his pixelated prison and cross that damned screen to hug you once and for all?

His mind goes wild, he thinks about possibilities all day.

Maybe if he altered the Irminsul? Would that affect your world? Is there a way to make his dream come true?

All those fake centuries of yearnings and desires of godhood, of greatness, they pale in comparison to how desperately he craves you. 

That's honestly all he wants.

He wants to be a real man. YOUR man. He honestly hopes you don't have a boyfriend in your real, truly three dimensional world. That would break his flat but very sensitive heart in two.

And if you do, and if he can't make his fantasies of crossing into your world to make you his into reality, he hopes he's a good man. Someone who treats you the way you deserve. Someone who takes care of your precious heart, the one that is so pure as to light up his miserable days with your kindness. 

If you have a man in that crappy world of yours, he better be the best one ever and shower you in better worshippings and affections than he ever could if he had the chance. Because had he ever heard that someone dared to hurt you, then not even the Irminsul or the Loom of Fate would be able to prevent his rage from reaching him and destroying him. 

That was the simple truth, it was clear to him. 

You deserved a real man. And he violently craved to be that for you. 

Just a little drabble that crossed my mind. Still working on CITH, Assembled Love and requests 💜

[cielur5ww]

wanderer — unspoken confessions ☆彡

summary — you're drunk and drinking and he's looking for you; unspoken confessions and you two wished the other knew the feelings being held.

pairing — wanderer/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, secret pining or yearning, friends but wishes to be more than that, drunk reader and wanderer is there to take them home so they're safe; oneshot

word count — 1500+

a/n — i ended up being busy for today so i had to rush this one. i was going for a drunken confessions route but here i am, i just thought this one was better. anyways, happiest birthday to the most prettiest, beautiful, wonderful, amazing, magnificent, alluring, fair, fascinating babiest baby girl of them all baby girls!! <33

he wanders throughout the dead of the night, navigating through the darkness with only the streetlamps there to accompany and guide him to his destination. the evening comes as a lull welcome to serenity and the city was silent in its embrace except for the sound of leaves rustling, his light footsteps, and the indistinguishable chatter of the few people around.

he could feel the cold night wind gently blow against him, caressing his skin, and soothing his warmth, and he pulls his hat down, holding it to avoid it from being blown away accidentally.

it was still early in the evening so a few people, aside from mercenaries, were seen outside, taking a stroll, or talking to others—most of the citizens that weren't outside were either inside their home or in the tavern, drinking and eating, and you were also doing the latter and he was out looking for you. apparently, after consulting nahida on your whereabouts as he couldn't find you in your own home nor anywhere the whole afternoon until now, he learned that you were out drinking with a group of people you met recently.

wanderer passed by a few closed stalls before eventually arriving at the doors of the tavern with the host greeting him as he entered. there, the warm lights of the place greeted him as he stepped in and the sound of laughter was heard, unfamiliar and loud, and there he saw you. not situated far away from him, you were seated—seemingly passed out as you had your head laid on top of the table— with a bunch of people whose faces he doesn't know of.

the thought of you willingly going out and drinking with strangers pissed him off. are you really that careless and lacking in self-awareness that you'll get yourself drunk around people who you're not even familiar nor close with? and the fact that you didn't even tell him where you're going to be and what you're going to do? his expression crumpled to an irritated one.

honestly even if the two of you are just friends—deep in him, he wishes you two weren't just that no matter the amount of times he had denied the thought—, it would have been if you would tell him. no, honestly, you should because he doesn't want to go through hell and back just to look for you and even seek for the sumeru archon's help— whose assistance will always be accompanied with her own words that would send him into a spiral of realization of what he truly feels towards you along with some teasing.

he walks towards your table, stopping right in front of it and grabbing the attention of the people in it. there was the strong smell of alcohol and aroma of food that wafted to his nose, it was harsh and he doesn't like it in a bit.

"oh hello, is there anything we can help you with?" one of them asks, he looks the most sober one out of all them due to the fact that he could speak without slurring their words.

"i'll be taking this one home with me," he says, an emotionless expression plastered on his face, while pointing at you. it seems like the sound of his voice woke you up from your slumber as you slowly sat up and brought your gaze to him, meeting his stare. your face was flustered pink, your eyes drowsy, and your hair was untidy, you looked like a total mess.

"wait, we don't know—" words of protest were about to be heard coming out of the man sitting in front of you but your voice interrupted them.

"hiii, kuniii," you break out into a grin, realizing that it was him, reaching your arms out, wanting to initiate a hug or anything. your words were dragged out and he could only sigh upon witnessing the state that you are in before he leaned down, letting you wrap your arms around his neck, then picking you up in his hold. he doesn't even care about the people watching him, in fact, he even finds himself liking it.

"you're hereee, why are you here?"

"i'm here to pick your dumbass up."

"we're going home?"

"yes, so be quiet."

"okay…" you followed what he said, shutting your mouth and resting your head against his shoulders.

wanderer gazed at the group, looking at them with a cold expression, "i appreciate that you kept (name) safe, however, next time, please avoid inviting them out and having them stay up until this time."

he turns around, walking away and leaving the tavern while he was holding you and you were hugging him tightly. it seems like you have fallen asleep once again and so he intends to bring you home as soon as possible so that you'll be able to get some rest properly.

the way back to your home was silent just like when he was walking towards the tavern to fetch your drunk state. he just wouldn't be able to rest peacefully knowing that someone else, a complete stranger, took you home, especially at this defenseless state of yours. what if something bad happened to you? what if the people you were drinking with were actually horrible and you weren't able to protect yourself? what if they were kidnappers, murderers, or anything and their next victim was you?

honestly, he has no right speaking over that matter and judging them when the blood that stains his hands makes him no different from them—if they were really bad people. but still, he just couldn't handle the thought of you slipping out of his grasp even when you have never been close to him to hold his hand. it was fine admiring you from afar as long as you don't fade from his sight.

a groan snapped him out of his trance and he looked at his side, to his shoulder where your head rests in which you rise up from your very quick nap. at the same time, you two have already arrived at the foot of your home.

"where are we…?"

"at the door of your house, where's your keys?" you hum before replying to him, tapping his shoulder as you spoke, "it's okay, you can put me down now. i can handle myself."

your voice sounded so soft and based on the tone of your voice—compared to when you were slurring your words when he was greeted by you— he could tell that you were already sobering up. maybe that quick sleep and cold breeze helped you?

he did what you had asked him to do, placing you down the ground and making sure that you were already on both of your feet before releasing his hold on you, watching you take your keys and unlocking the door soon after. he plans on leaving as soon as he sees you get inside your room.

there was only silence not until you spoke, "thanks for taking me home, by the way."

"you ought to be more careful next time."

"i will, thank you once again," you turned to him as you spoke, a small smile on your face and you don't know if it's the way the moonlight shines on him that his complexion looks so soft and gentle while looking at you.

*oh, right! it's not yet midnight, right? i hope i'm not late…" there was panic in your tone as you fumbled and looked for something in the pockets of your clothes. he was about to speak, planning on asking you, but was then interrupted when you took out what you were looking for, dangling it in front of his face.

it was an amulet with a gem in the shape of a heart and there was an unknown feeling at his stomach, one that he always feels when he's around you, adoring you, or talking to you.

"it was only this morning when i learned that it was your birthday so i looked for a gift and was even thinking of just making a handmade one but i don't think i'll have enough time and then i encountered those people— the ones i was drinking with— who helped me in exchange for some drinks. i swear, i wasn't planning on staying out late and i was going to look for you right—"

you were interrupted with the sound of something short and sweet, so genuine, so low and soft that if your surroundings weren't silent right now, you wouldn't have heard it.

"…okay, that's enough. you don't have to explain everything, just be more careful next time." did he laugh? did he just let out a chuckle? a laugh? are you still drunk? maybe that's it, maybe you're still drunk and daydreaming!

you scratched the back of your neck before handing him the gift on your hand and he accepted it. in the quick moment he had his guard down, you cupped his face gently and pressed your lips against his cheek, giving him a peck.

"happy birthday, kuni. thank you for being born, thank you for being here," you whisper before parting, letting go of your hold on his cheek and you weren't looking at him, your gaze averted and away. you wanted to see his face but you were afraid of the emotion that would stain his expression so you could only look away and the reality of the situation had only dawned on you when silence only reigned.

"so uhm, yes, that's all. okay, goodnight!"

you then went inside immediately and closed the door and you wish you stayed for a little bit, you wished you could have seen the way his face flusters and his ears grow red, you wished you witnessed him fall and try to cover the blush on his cheeks as he tries to calm the butterflies that were going wild in his stomach. archons, what is he going to do with you?

his gaze remains at the amulet in his hand and his mind remains at the time when your lips had touched his skin, stuck in a single yet eternal dreamlike moment, not wanting to leave.

even with the amount of thoughts running inside his head, he could only think of you—his mind never felt like his own because it's only you that fills it, his thoughts felt like small puzzle pieces that once combined all together, it will form an image of you. he likes you so much, just like the way icarus yearns for the sun, too close, too warm, too much.

— navigation | masterlist

[cielur5ww]

୨📜୧ ─────・ It's my problem, not yours.

▭ Synopsis﹕Scaramouche knew you from what he heard at the beginning of the year, that you were the perfect student... that you had everything, and although he never interacted with you, you were an unpleasant person to him. But it seems that this time they are going to get closer, too close for him taste.. then why do you feel this pressure in your chest and the heat rising to your cheeks?

★ ❪CW❫── male!reader!student x Scaramouche, AU modern, small insults, the reader is a perfect student, Scara hates you a little, Scara's POV, Scara being a tsundere

ᶻz ─── n/a﹕I just vomited this idea, ignore me.. Maybe I'll do more parts, MAYBE (I am very procrastinating and lazy). Any spelling mistakes... sorry, I don't want to review it, I'll probably post something new in another 2 months.

Scaramouche sighed, letting out a slight huff as he rolled his eyes to disguise his mild annoyance.

His delicate hands held the exam paper, and though he had thought he did well, he noted the few incorrect marks in his answers (only three), seeing the red number at the top, an 80. The maximum score was 100, and he had hoped to have scored at least an 85 or perhaps a 90, but he wasn't too surprised either. After all, he had only had a few days to study.

He could glance over his shoulder at his neighbor, who had scored a 60. That at least comforted him a bit, knowing there wouldn't be many with a grade as high as his.

His gaze wandered around the room, passing over each of his classmates' heads until he found your hair... The perfect student.

Scaramouche huffed slightly, feeling annoyed, and kept glancing away, gritting his teeth a little. You were the stupid perfect student, the teacher's pet, who probably scored a 100 effortlessly... But his curiosity drew him back to you in the distance, watching as you held the exam paper in your hands for several seconds instead of putting it away and being done. You were reviewing your exam sheet with the textbook open, as if double-checking your own already perfect answers.

However, in the end, it seemed you had left your exam sheet, flipping it over on your desk and closing the book. Your head was slightly tilted, maybe you had made a mistake in one answer... he thought, but still, you were the 100 student, if you got a 95, you still had an excellent grade. He sighed again, looking away to focus on his own affairs.

As he heard the slight squeak of the chair backing up a bit, he looked up once more, and some strands of his indigo hair bothered him a bit. He quickly adjusted his hair and watched as you stood up from your seat, still with your back to him.

"Teacher, may I go to the bathroom?" It was a simple and typical question among students, but this time, it was you who asked. Obviously, the teacher gave you approval, and you quickly left the classroom, blending into the class's murmur. But he saw you. Scaramouche observed you.

He simply didn't pay it much mind, leaning back in his desk and stretching a bit over the table, lost in his thoughts and staring into space.

Now that he thought about it, he had never interacted with you. Well, he had never spoken to you.

Scaramouche remembered the first and last time you had spoken to him, even if it was just a small accident.

It was in the hallway while he was carrying some books to the office (the teacher had forced him). There were quite a few books, and he struggled a bit to carry them, so he couldn't see well as he walked. Accidentally, he bumped the books against your back.

Ugh, just remembering it seemed like a stupid cliché encounter from love stories, like when the girl bumps into the guy and it's love at first sight. He groaned at that thought, but he continued to recall how you had interacted with him.

After the collision, obviously the books fell to the ground, and you immediately apologized (when he was the one at fault), bending down to pick them up and arrange them in a row. He also crouched down, but didn't say anything, just furrowed his brow.

"Do you want me to help you carry this?" You had asked him kindly, your voice disgustingly soft for his taste, but he didn't say anything. He had already recognized you as the proclaimed perfect student, the teacher's pet, and... the number one in school.

He didn't like you, that was his point.

He wanted to refuse, but he also didn't want to carry those books again alone, so reluctantly he just carried half of them in silence, standing up and giving you a silent confirmation without meeting your gaze.

They walked together to the office, maintaining the uncomfortable silence between them. Scaramouche silently appreciated that you didn't unnecessarily try to fill that void. When they arrived, he immediately dropped off the books, giving a small greeting to the secretary to not seem rude, and then walked past you, distancing himself.

He didn't want anything to do with you, and he easily achieved that. He avoided you and kept his distance.

But oh, surprise! He and you shared three classes together: Biology, Arts, and Mathematics. Still, he didn't attempt to get closer or interact with you; it seemed unnecessary to him. He knew nothing about you, apart from being the "perfect" student. He thought you were arrogant, only showing kindness and politeness to maintain your facade of an exemplary student.

Scaramouche probably imagined that every time the teachers praised you or asked the students to follow your example, you were secretly laughing mockingly inside or looking down on others behind your soft and repulsive smile.

Scaramouche hated you.

Did he have reasons? No, but he found you distasteful for some reason.

The sound of the bell snapped him out of his thoughts immediately. Automatically, he began to pack his things into his backpack, and once finished, he stood up and made his way through the people exiting the classroom, navigating through the crowded hallway toward the exit.

It was break time, and he simply didn't want anything to do with the crowd of stupid people around him. So, he walked through the crowded halls, ignoring everyone. After all, he didn't really know anyone.

Scaramouche's feet carried him towards the stairs leading upstairs, until he reached the door that led to the rooftop. Normally, this area was blocked off, and it was forbidden to go out, but he really didn't care.

So, he easily opened the doors, removing the padlock (he had stolen the keys from the counselor's office). He closed the doors behind him so that no one would suspect that someone had been on the rooftop. He tucked the key into the pocket of his blue coat and took out his headphones and phone to listen to music, the only thing that relaxed him.

He walked across the rooftop, staying away from the edge to avoid being seen, but not too much in the center either. He headed towards the benches, which were strangely clean; probably the janitor also cleaned this place. He sat down, put on his headphones, and started playing music.

Gently, he lay back on his back, with his arms behind his head, starting to close his eyes, immersing himself in his own world of music, finding peace in melancholy.

Song by song, Scaramouche began to feel drowsy, sinking into a state of relaxation. However, when he opened his eyes, he found your face disgusting... again.

Why was God punishing him this day?

Automatically, he sat up, removing his headphones at the same time. He looked up and saw you. You had the impeccable school uniform, clean and strangely soft-looking hair, and your eyes were calm and gentle, in perfect harmony with your hair. You were too close for his liking, although technically you weren't invading his personal space, you were still there, practically in front of him, with your hands behind your back and a soft smile that he felt was fake.

"I thought this place was off-limits." You commented calmly, looking at him with those eyes that seemed as serene as water on the surface, yet so deep that they could easily swallow him whole.

He didn't want to answer how the heck he got into this closed-off place... so he simply averted his gaze with indifference, trying to show disinterest. To him, you were just an arrogant idiot, he told himself.

There were seconds of uncomfortable silence for Scaramouche as you continued to observe him with those eyes of yours. He felt uneasy under your gaze. So, he huffed annoyed, looking back at you and furrowing his brow.

"I thought the model student didn't break any rules in school." He declared, looking at you defiantly. He didn't care if you went and talked to a teacher, pointing him out for being on the rooftop, because you were there too. That place was supposed to be off-limits, but there you were, looking at him.

However, you simply smiled, as if it didn't affect you at all if he told a teacher that you had broken a rule. Although, on second thought, they wouldn't believe him, they would believe you because you were the perfect student, the role model. But if Scaramouche were to prove that you had broken a rule, it wouldn't matter because many teachers would probably overlook it due to your reputation as the responsible student with a bright future.

That's why maybe you were smiling so calmly. He clenched his teeth slightly, annoyed by your mere presence.

"I was just checking who was on the rooftop, as there have been incidents of students smoking here or having gatherings that are prohibited without a teacher's authorization." You responded softly, still smiling at him with that fake smile of yours, and you even sounded completely logical.

Your eyes, looking directly at him, made him feel small under your calm and deep gaze, like that of an animal observing its prey. But he wasn't going to let you take control.

"Do you see me smoking?" He responded, looking at you without hesitation, although the slight pressure in his chest increased with every moment you continued to look at him. Then, you gently closed your eyes and then opened them, looking in another direction, probably gazing at the blue sky.

"No, you're not smoking. I was just... 'investigating', I guess you could say." You said softly. Damn, maybe he understood now why they said you were so kind; it was your disgustingly soft tone of voice.

Although he also silently appreciated that you stopped looking at him. The tension in his muscles briefly relaxed, but his mind raced trying to decide how to act now. Respond? Ignore you? Say nothing? Leave? Any option seemed bad to him.

He decided to go for the first option, maybe then you would be satisfied with the conversation and leave him alone, ignoring him and forgetting about him.

"Are you going to tell a teacher, then?" He said, sounding uninterested because it was the truth. He really didn't care if a teacher scolded him for breaking a rule, as his mother wouldn't have time to go to the school and find out. But he continued the conversation, hoping you would leave him alone afterwards, and also so he would know whether or not he would be accused by you.

"Mhmm.." you hummed to yourself. He watched you step back a bit to lean gently against the whitish wall, crossing your arms, and again... looking at him. "Don't worry, Scaramouche, I won't." Damn, how did you know his name?

He remained still, watching your stupid smile that he disliked so much and how your lips pronounced his name. He didn't even know how you knew his name or why you had memorized it. Even though he hadn't told you, still... he looked at you, processing what you had just said, but at least you weren't going to rat him out. Was that a good thing? One could say yes.

"And this sudden kindness?" He immediately recovered, putting one leg up on the bench he was sitting on, bending it enough to lean his elbow on it and look you in the eyes, adopting a casual and unconcerned posture.

Or so he tried to appear, but his brain fried a bit when you called him by his name. He wondered why you had memorized his name, but he would go on with his intention. He wouldn't let himself be dragged down by you; you were just... ridiculous.

He watched in slow motion as you gently closed your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes, and then opened them again, tilting your head slightly... looking at him.

"I just noticed you weren't in class, the bell rang over 5 minutes ago." You commented casually, looking directly at him.

When the hell had the bell rung? He didn't even realize that time had passed too quickly for his liking... and he remembered that he also had classes with you today, and in math class, adding more weight to the situation. He would definitely be scolded, so he immediately stood up with a clear sound.

"Did the bell already ring? Why didn't you tell me, idiot?!" Scaramouche snapped at you, giving you a death glare as he checked the time on his phone. Even though he didn't give a damn about what the teachers thought, the math teacher punished him with too many assignments, which literally gave him a headache.

Scaramouche hurried towards the rooftop door, opening it. But a hand on his arm stopped him just as he was about to step onto the first step down.

"It's okay, Scaramouche. Let's go together, so the teacher won't scold you." You said softly. Now you were disgustingly close, he could feel the soft perfume surrounding you. It wasn't strong or intense, but soft... His brain went blank from your tone of voice and your strange comforting touch for him. After a few seconds, he reacted, stepping down onto the first step and turning around to look at you, pulling his arm away from your grip abruptly.

"Let go of me, idiot," Scaramouche muttered through gritted teeth, looking at you defiantly. But why did he feel like his cheeks were gently warming up? He lowered his gaze and turned, descending the stairs quickly without waiting for you. However, he could hear how you followed suit afterward.

After a few minutes, they were standing in front of the classroom door they had today, with the math teacher. Obviously, upon entering, the teacher was clearly not happy that Scaramouche had arrived late, but his expression immediately changed when he saw you with him.

He asked why you came back from the bathroom with Scaramouche, and in the end, you ended up lying for him, saying that when you returned to the classroom, you saw Scaramouche sleeping, so you woke him up and told him about the class time.

The teacher had no choice but to scold him for not falling asleep outside during class time and next time, threatening him with punishment if he did it again (basically, thanks to you, he wasn't punished this time). Scaramouche simply remained silent, not even thanking you.

He went to his seat, sighing irritably, trying to focus on the class and ignoring the fact that, in the distance, you seemed to have that stupid smile again. Maybe it was one of triumph for having helped him and now he owed you a favor... you were so annoying to him.

Thanks to your stupid pretty face and good reputation, you helped him this time and decided that you wouldn't tell anyone about the guy on the roof. What did you want from him? He doesn't know but he doesn't want to return the favor.

You were just two-faced, surely..

This was their problem, not yours, you're just a stupid busybody.

Bonus:

Scaramouche was there, sitting... trying to concentrate on Math class but really, he didn't understand at all...

"Where the hell did the teacher get that -26?.."

He simply groaned in annoyance in his seat, his gaze wandering over the others' heads, to where you were... and he thought about the roof.

Oh shit, he had forgotten to put the new lock on the doors.

At the next recess, Scaramouche immediately went through the crowd to the roof, to make up for his mistake, but when he went, the doors to the roof were locked... he was a little relieved, but he wondered if the janitor was the one who did it. And then he looked in his pocket for the key but he realized that only his cell phone and headphones were there... the key was not there.

At what point did he lose it?!

In reality, it was you who had stolen Scaramouche's key when you were with him, and when he was going down the stairs you made sure to lock it with the utmost care that it was silent because you knew that Scaramouche might react badly.

Scaramouche in the end deduced that the only culprit was you.

[cielur5ww]

Couldn't exactly capture the smallness of Scaramouche in his Harbinger cloak but it was worth a try

[cielur5ww]

For the lifetime he has lived, Scaramouche had nothing to favor.

There was nothing for him to pick, anyway. He had no hobbies, for all the tasks he learnt to do in the past were just that - tasks. He'd done those out of a need for a purpose, a drive for validation, but Scaramouche was no longer a fledgling stranded on a branch. Flowers and trees are all the same to him, and this unsubstantial world never lacked its flora anyway - always something new to find, to marvel at, then to be bored of in the end. Don't even get him started on mortals — animals and humans alike — that lived the most boring and short and miniscule lives when compared to the lifespan he spent alive. Scaramouche would spit and scowl and curse -- how absurd for one to think he'd care for another worthless life that would just die out in barely half a year he'd know them.

Scaramouche had nothing special to call his favourite, and there was no reason for him to do so then.

But the Wanderer does now.

The Wanderer wakes up in the morning, mechanically so yet humanly still blinking away the fog of sleep. He forgets not his hat, not his scarf, and definitely not the personality of a man-puppet that's lived 500 years and more, then he leaves Buer's side to find you.

His day only truly begins when it's your face that he sees first. He wastes no time; he greets you, says his 'hello's, maybe add something remarkably sassy just to see you hold back your irritation and force a smile so awfully unlike you. The Wanderer snickers, a battle won in which he knows you liked him enough not storm off like a certain "senior" Kshahrewar (he's older, mind you) or scatter like bugs on a kitchen floor. Without warning, you then held his hand in yours, perfectly fit as all things should be, and he doesn't shy away - at least, you don't think so. The only thing that gave him away, had you looked closer, is the downwards tilt of his hat, and the uncharacteristic smile he cannot suppress.

With you, the Wanderer finds good company in ridiculous, inaccurate history books; in boring, nosy lectures he loathed to join; in the busy streets and bustling bazaars that he disliked strolling through; and in the stillness of the night and his quiet mind. He never realizes it, but he looks forward to seeing that wonderful smile on your face. Every sarcastic quip he would anticipate your bright laugh, no matter how many times he'd call it grating for his mechanical ears. In each and every joyous expression, this childish and naive puppet hopes that he'd remain the sole reason for them.

Yes, the Wanderer fails to see a reason to start having favourites in this new chance of life, but he didn't need a reason nor excuse to allow you to claim your place in his heart - his number one priority and first exception to everything.

(And because I partake in EBG; @iceunhie @naraven . Thank me later ;D - assistant)

[cielur5ww]

Can you do Black Butler please? Maybe Ciel Phantomhive taking care of Elizabeth's younger brother who is around 4? Maybe Ciel let's the (name) eat sweets with him and drink Earl Grey tea? And can the end be fluffy like (name) falls asleep on Ciel, and when Sebastian tries to take (name) off of Ciel, Ciel is just like "no" (you don't have to do this btw)

I fucking got you fam

Ciel x male reader

Fluff, platonic (obviously)

A day at the phantomhive manor

Why did he agree to this?

Little (name) Midford was just as happy as his big sister and was always excited to see his future brother in law, though the four year old didn't exactly understand that they weren't already married.

"Hello Mr. Sebastian!" (Name) said happily as he held the butlers hand, the Demon smiling down at the little one who always brought him sweets, the other just accepting them because what else could he do?

"Ciel!" (Name) ran up to the tween who stood at the front doors "how do we greet people?" Ciel chastised the little noble and halted and Ciel offered his hand "thank you for inviting me to your home!" He seemed very proud of himself and Ciel led him inside, (name) was constantly talking about spending time with the other so Ciel sent a letter and invited him over.

"Remember, gold the cup like this " Ciel was rarely patient with children but he has a soft spot for (name), the boy reminding him of his fiance (and cousin fun fact) and genuinely wanted the best for him.

(Name) played with a few toys Ciel kept in a toy room for the little one as he did his work "Lizzy says you're a business man... What do you do?" (Name) asked softly as to not disrupt him too much and Ciel glanced at the boy "I run Funtom corporation, all those toys and sweets you have? Those are from my company"

"Are you like Santa?!" He asked facinated and Ciel sighed "no, I'm not like Santa"

"Aww"

(Name) spent the day with the other, excitedly watching everything he did and even got to play in the garden for a while.

It wasn't till later in the evening, (name) spent after playing all day and having an all around blast and Ciel softly read him treasure island, the tyke asleep on the others lap.

"Do you wish for me to prepare a bed for him, young master?" Sebastian asked the noble who shook his head "no need, he wakes at the slightest movements after all"

Though Ciel wouldn't admit it, he felt warm that his fiance's little brother felt so safe with him, glad he got to spend time with him and perhaps would spend time with him again in future though maybe with more activities planned.

Maybe he could take him to that Christmas event that Lizzie gushed about.

[cielur5ww]

🎶 i am the butler, you are the earl 🎶

my favorite song from the tango on the campania musical and quite possibly all the kuromyus as a whole, i really love how they turned sebastian's cinematic record into a duet :,)

[cielur5ww]

This is an order!

[cielur5ww]

average weekdays be like

[cielur5ww]

The Romantic Tragedy of Soul Consumption

The contract between Sebastian and Ciel stipulates that when Ciel finally completes his revenge, he would give his soul to Sebastian, the demon whom he bargained with.

I noticed that throughout the anime-canon, soul consumption is put in a romantic frame. The contract between Sebastian and Ciel is reminiscent of a marriage, with Sebastian vowing to be at Ciel’s side until the day he dies, until the day lies become truth, that he will never lie, and he will never betray him. He will be his loyal slave, until the day where he can consume Ciel’s soul. The way he speaks in anticipation of that moment, that is reminiscent of the consummation between two lovers, since he talks about “desiring” Ciel’s soul, and “being hungry” for Ciel’s soul. As I talked about in my other post, hunger is a metaphor for lust. Basically, the day Sebastian consumes Ciel’s soul, that will be the day the “consummate” their union, where they will finally become one.

The soul is the memories and feelings, the very essence of someone’s being; thus, Sebastian desiring Ciel’s soul is essentially Sebastian desiring Ciel, utterly and completely. Sebastian consuming Ciel’s soul would be the consummation of that desire.

Ciel giving his soul to Sebastian would essentially be Sebastian treasuring those memories and sentiments that the soul possessed, but tragically ending his life. I also drew my conclusion from the last scene in the anime, which has a clear romantic subtext, with an aspect of tragedy. Ciel and Sebastian go to the isle of the dead, where Sebastian will at last to consume Ciel’s soul, thus complete the contract. Yana also made some commentary in regards to that specific scene, where she called it “incredibly erotic”. I can’t say I completely agree, as I see it more as a classical Shakespearean tragedy, such as Romeo and Juliet, rather than mere erotism, though I do acknowledge the “erotic” depiction as being intentional from the animators.

The erotism in that scene is evident. They talk in double entendres, with Ciel asking Sebastian if it will hurt, and Sebastian promising to be gentle. The way Sebastian removes their clothing to ultimately reveal their contract marks beneath the light of the moon, and the way Ciel longingly stares at Sebastian as he leans towards him. It is erotic, and instead of consuming his soul, it is portrayed as if Sebastian was going to take Ciel’s virginity. It truly is depicted that way, and it was intentional.

Yet, even through the erotism, lies the tragedy. They go to the isle of the dead because they know that by the end, Sebastian is going to be all alone again. It was a doomed love from the beginning, bound to end in tragedy. Sebastian will savour the soul he so desperately desired, but he will be left without Ciel. He will be nothing but a lonely demon without a master.

[cielur5ww]

I’ve been rereading the Black Butler series with the contextual schema of who Ciel objectively is; a traumatized thirteen year old with asthma who ALREADY was an anxious little booger before he (felt that he) had to take initiative and fill his big brother’s (dead) shoes by STRAIGHT UP WINGING IT temperament-wise until he managed to mask well enough. As I expected, the story does become somehow even sadder…up until you read Ciel’s dialogue with the knowledge that this is a disgruntled and mildly anxious preteen speaking, one whose immediate role model is a fucking demon. When you do that, so much of Ciel’s written dialogue (especially in the dubbed anime too tbh) is actually hysterical. He is so cute and silly. Beat Sebastian with a broom lil guy 🧹.

[cielur5ww]

Black Butler fans how are y’all feeling??!

[cielur5ww]

scara doodles <333

[cielur5ww]

hehehehe Shadows House