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heiznx · 10 months ago

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PRINCESS ARRIVAL — III

∗༝*◦✦ missed texts.

BEFORE READING, this includes mentions of yuu's attachment to mc, brief mention of book 5 and 6 events, and slight yandere things.

|| ◀BACK || NEXT▶ || HEADCANONS ||

You can remember how you clung to the tiny hope that your team would win despite the incident with Vil and how it left a physical impact on all of you, but mentally for both you and Rook, who appeared to be in a better state than you.

Kalim said before that Neige and the seven dwarves’ music couldn’t get out of his mind, because the song was targeted for children to listen and adults to reminisce on; it had the arrangements of a children’s song in Shaftlands.

The glances you threw at Vil and how you followed him and—you sighed and sunk in your bed, your head splitting from the emotional ride you went through in just one day, but you had to process a lot of things today.

Royal Sword Academy won, Rook cried because he met Neige, and you remembered the way Neige spared him a minute or two of his time before quickly going to you, clinging on your arm as if he was a lost animal—or maybe one or two minutes is enough to talk with someone and you were just overthinking it.

“What’s wrong with Neige?” you can’t help but think.

When they won, you felt your dislike towards him coming back despite the competition being fair—not exactly fair since most of the people voted on their own schools because they want to support it and not because they think the dance or song was good.

Even though you wanted to cry at that loss, you held back because Epel and Kalim started crying themselves and you ended up laughing at them for it despite your own frustration.

Everyone was surprised at how Rook got quiet after meeting Neige, but turns out his tears were gathering in his eyes and he introduced himself as the #0000002 member of Neige’s fanclub; you weren’t exactly surprised as you remembered how he said ‘I wish I was you’ when you nearly got in a rumor of having a date with Neige.

Now about Neige, where do you even start?

It wasn’t obsessive, the way he’s all up on you, at least you think it wasn’t, it was just plain overbearing, especially when he texts you each time he has a break, tells you all the stories of his practice, chats you about meeting up without specifications where and when, and then clinging to you in real life.

Still, you felt like disliking him for something that you could most likely change by communicating with him was not justified, at least you should try to, you thought, perhaps tomorrow, since the cultural fair was two days.

You paused your thoughts when you gazed at the mirror and remembered that you promised the big-eared creature that you will find your friend to show if he can see Mickey in the photo you took of him earlier.

You scooched to the edge of the bed and went to look for Grim, not knowing how your stress levels and mental state will worsen with how you will see your friend, whom you are attached to, protecting a stone and will physically harm you in the process.

Neige looked at the paper bag by his table and sighed again, prompting the dwarves to pat his back again and trying to comfort him for forgetting to give you the gift he planned on; they were swarmed with reporters, his fame held him back in meeting you.

He sinks on the small table, listening to the words of the dwarves as they rub his back or try to point out the features they saw on you earlier at the cultural fair and some bringing up the trophy they received from the competition.

Not only did he fail to give you the paper bag, he also failed to bring it in the first place; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye because you retreated to Ramshackle dorm so early and the school was about to close. He really didn’t have a choice.

You were not even texting him right now; he always had to be the first to reach out.

Was it hopeless after all? To chase after you, because you always sabotage yourself by thinking if he was simply being nice to a person who helped him from falling back when someone pushed him. Did he accidentally return the favor when you called on him for help and he broke the rules for you?

He didn’t even see the cameras directed at him or people who caught the scene on video and posted it on socials, but he definitely saved it, moreover, he liked it; the only time he hesitated on actually liking it was when you seemed to be troubled over the fact.

When it got taken down permanently by your friend, he had never been so relieved that he had saved it prior, but even without that video, he surely still remembers the incident and the feeling of your hands as he held it and happily asks for your time.*

“There’s still tomorrow…” Shelpie whispers as his head leans on Neige’s shoulder, slowly dozing off and waking up repeatedly.

“We can visit Night Raven College tomorrow,” Dominic says, having forgotten to remind the human about the paper bag as well because of how nervous he felt since it was competition day today. “I’m sure [name] will be happy to receive it.”

“How would you know? You don’t know them like I do.”

Neige looked up and smiled; he had gotten accustomed to his thoughts by now. It’s a reflection of his feelings and innermost self, but he had grown to accept it already as a part of him—because those thoughts were because of concern.

Ironically enough, he himself doesn’t even know how you would react to the gift, but he visions your flustered expression upon receiving it and hoping—hoping that you’d hold his hand and openly express your gratitude.

Though it would be lovely if you were to give him more than he invisions.

“Yes, there’s still tomorrow!” the ever joyful dwarf says, smiling brightly. “We can help you look for her!”

“Or… or you can ask your other friend,” Timmy says.

“Ah, Vi…” the lovestrucked student murmured, his eyes looking wide and innocent as he looked at Timmy as if being enlightened by his suggestion. “I hate him.”

“Vil Schoenheit,” Dominic said in thought. “It would be nice to, especially with how he seemed close with [name]-san. I think he would be able to help you.”

“Help? Help,” his heart felt numb and empty as he smiled while looking at Dominic, because when did that model ever help Neige when it came to you? When the model visited the front of his dressing room, did that model actually go to give him the drink or flaunt the concern you had for him?

“I—ah—I think so too!” Snick chimes in but nearly sneezing in the process of talking so Dominic handed him a handkerchief.

Neige remembered the amount of glances you sent Vil’s way and it was less than the seconds of glances you gave him. The way your obvious concern for the model was there, and it’s suffocating to think that the model seemed to look at you fondly.

It was tolerable, the dwarves’ liking towards you, because they had no ulterior motive unlike the always-ranked-second model; the one you were with when he dozed off after meeting a certain fan who wanted to be looked at straight in the eyes.

“It would be good! I’ll give him a chat… or I can ask [name]-san myself!” the ebony haired student smiled brightly as he sat up properly, reaching for his phone and nearly knocking off the paper bag in the process. "Sending a letter to R might take too long…"

For hours from when Neige slept with a racing heart to when he woke up happily, expecting a reply after sending it during dinnertime and now he woke up to breakfast, because you usually reply in between; he knows you sleep later than he does.

There was no response from you.

Still, he hurried to dress up in a casual outfit since he didn’t need to wear a uniform because he currently wasn’t representing the school for anything—he was just there for you, and possibly needing the help of anyone he sees first for you.

It took him hours to sit down and perfect his appearance in front of a mirror, waking up Dominic and the other dwarves because of how the contour stick kept falling off due to how much he repeated the lines on his face.

All that time for preparation and leaving without the dwarves to go ‘early’ to meet you alone without them; all of that just to be met with a redhead that firmly told him that you were not feeling well to meet anyone or to be outside at all.

Riddle Rosehearts, familiar—no, Neige knew the name because this was another person that greeted you nicely at that one call, and a person that respected you, but doesn’t this dorm leader seem to be closer to you than he was?

Ace and Deuce were also walking by when they saw from the second floor that Riddle was talking to Neige; it was the spade that panicked and ran down because the dorm leader seemed to be losing his patience with Neige’s persistence.

It was just that Riddle didn’t want to disclose what happened to you. The you who was lamenting over the fact you won’t be able to see your companion for hours or days, and the you who had red-shot eyes and scars on the arm.

“Oh, it’s you!” Neige took his attention off the nearly fuming prefect to look at Deuce. “You were with [name]-san near the Beach!”

The beach that nearly had you get a bruise if it hadn’t for this blue haired student that was shouldering most of the hits from imbeciles that wanted a taste of the blastcycle.

“Sorry, cutting in,” Ace was the one to reply, causing Riddle to feel an ick that it was Ace who replied instead of Deuce, who was being talked to. “Are you looking for the prefect? [name]’s not doing well right now… they need a lot lot of rest, but if you need something to tell them, you can text them instead.”

“I’ve been doing just that, but for some reason…” Neige says, but he stopped before he could say that you stopped replying.

Why did this person recommend texting you as if you were capable of replying? He would never be able to understand it if you replied to everyone but him.

“Ah, you see, [name] is feeling unwell today,” Ace said, causing Riddle to shoot him a look, a warning for him not to reveal more than he knows. “They might be resting, it’d really help if you send them texts so they won’t miss anything you wanna tell them when they wake up.”

“Ah,” his eyes widened slightly. “[name]-san is sick.”

It’s the first assumption Neige has, of course, because what else does he know about your background other than knowing you as who you are right now and not your past? He accepts you anyways.

He thought that Heartslabyul’s dorm leader was quite silly for not starting with that as his mind goes to the thought of being able to see your flushed face and in need of someone to rely on, or to be able to take care of you.

His heart races at the thought of it as he keeps his bright smile on—that dimmed once Deuce said, “Yes, but… they’re not really accepting visitors. It makes them… dizzy, you know…?”

“It’s completely normal to feel nauseous when you’re ill,” Riddle said to save Deuce’s informal wording, and he felt his anger simmer down when Ace was able to tame Neige’s persistence. “If you have something to give the prefect, it’s best to leave it to Pomefiore’s housewarden.”

“Vi?” the ebony student asked as he felt his heart empty out again, keeping a smile though Ace winced involuntarily at the thought that Riddle quite messed up there. “Why Vi?”

“Oh, because Schoenheit…” Deuce started, only to quiet down because he cannot give proper reasons since he doesn’t know the situation well, only having a gist of it through Epel.

“Why? Why? Why him? Again?”

“Pomefiore is attempting to provide [name]-san the best healing they could,” Riddle explained, not truly lying when he said it, though in reality Pomefiore is only offering you skincare for your plump eyes and your scar. “And he is the closest—”

Ace was satisfied with the first structure of Riddle’s words until nearly adding that Vil was the closest to you so Deuce quickly gets ideas from Riddle’s words and cuts in, “—closest to Hunt, who is part of the science club so Schoenheit gets entrance there to make potions for [name]-san!”

Riddle would’ve scolded Deuce for that; Riddle was the one who can barely catch up to what Neige was feeling and was prioritizing getting through Neige’s mind that you cannot see anyone at the moment.

The ginger felt relieved by Deuce’s save that they both placed their palms by their mouths as if to breathe deeply; they can’t believe how they have to save Riddle from more questioning by Neige.

“I see… how thoughtful…” Neige murmurs as he looks downcasted, nearly causing Riddle to wince at how openly he showed it. “I’ll… text Vi…”

“Or… or we can hand it to him for you!” Deuce chimed.

It doesn’t satisfy Neige, but he didn’t feel like seeing Vil and remembering the times he witnessed you with him; he wanted to see you, that’s what he dressed up and came for in the cultural fair.

He clenched on the strap of the bag before he looked up and smiled, handing it to Deuce as he said, “Thank you! I’ll make sure to text [name]-san about it so they will be prepared to receive it!”

You put the phone down before you glanced at the paper bag, just because you mustered all the energy you had to feel energetic to respond to Neige doesn't mean the hole in your heart was fully healed.

The Shroud brothers had Grim, but even they won't tell you what happened with him even if you were close to the brothers in a way; Idia was closed off and Ortho was apologetic towards you.

You looked up at the group that was looking back at you before you sigh and say, "I feel better."

Kalim is happier to hear that and you smile a little; the entire group of the representatives of Night Raven College during the competition was there.

It took you a few minutes of talking by Rook before you mustered the courage to reply to Neige; he bribed you with money that he says could be for cat food in cans for your companion's return.

"It was a lot," Vil says as he looked back at the amount of fruits piling up on the table and how Jamil was currently in Ramshackle's kitchen and making juice.

"His sincerity is incredibly touching! He truly is kind," Rook says as you lean back on the couch.

You can't believe that Kalim was happy despite donating his money to Ramshackle, but you can't believe that even Jamil donates his own; you assumed he would have problems, but perhaps being Kalim's servant pays well.

There was still stinging in your eyes when you remember that Epel even donated his own and said it's for Grim's return; you can't help it, Grim was the first one to be there when you arrived in an unknown world.

"How many spoons are still in the freezer?" Vil asked after glancing at your puffed eyes that was the result of their kindness and you missing your companion.

"There's still six... seven..." Deuce counted.

— C R A S H !

"That..." you muttered before you looked up immediately.

The sound was nerving, and it came from outside. In that same day, you let your heart control your actions; it was the day you learned about 'Hepta Team' and when prefects had a meeting.

Rook was an enabler more than anything when he chose that he wanted to follow where the robots took certain people, people who overblotted, were taken to. Moreover, you learned more about why the Shroud brothers refused to return your companion.

And the next day, you were did not show up in the cafe to meet Neige.

THIS IS HEIZNX, each time i type, i would accidentally out * before any actions and after because i’ve been using character ai on my laptop and i got used to typing with asterisks. Its taking too long again im so sorry, even i am thinking ‘omg when am i gna put [insert important scene for next time that i dont wanna disclose rn]??’ mc's texts were 'replied' to but they werent showing when i previewed them while editing. i had to edit the replies so it would be a little understandable, i never had ihpone so i didnt htink that 'messages' (?) would remove them.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst neige #neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere neige #yandere neige leblanche

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heiznx · 1 year ago

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BUNDLE OF PURITY

∗༝*◦✦ and they were roommates.

BEFORE READING, woman mc, includes out of character scaramouche, triggering implications and scenes.

|| STAINED HANDS || DEAR KUNI ||

There were times Kunikuzushi stared at what view was above him and everything else, wondering if there was more than what his bare eyes could see—the blending of orange and yellow to a color that was far from the color wheel, purple and blue—and it’s all because the sun was setting.

The hues that matched his appearance were made up from the sky he would look at: dark blue shaded hair and blue eyes, much like the background shades used when nobles ask artists to paint a portrait of them.

“I must be old,” he used to think back then, for having preferred the darker shades like adults do even though he was only in his early adolescence at that time, when in fact, he only liked the hues, because they were the only ones he saw more frequently than the sun.

His perspective about that now was that he was naive.

Now and for the past years, Kunikuzsuhi wonders how he allowed himself to be so easily swayed to do something that he used to think was a burden to his work, but now he would convince himself that it was only rational of him to follow what the other says.

The light was blinding even when he placed his hand over his eyes; it was proven futile as light continued to only slip past his fingers and shone right back on his eyes.

He can feel herself getting irked by it; it was too warm for his liking.

“Where are you?” Kunikuzushi thought as he looked around the crowd of people before him; unfortunately, however, their tall structures blocked him from seeing anything, and they also fortunately blocked the sunlight from meeting his eyes. “That sick—! She’s unnecessarily stubborn! I will lose my mind!”

He dislikes having to be alone in such a place where vendors surrounding almost every corner of the area were yelling to get noticed first for their products, even though most of them were just the same—same fruits, same words, and same prices.

Though the event was yearly, there were occasions where everything just looked the same, and because of that, he didn’t feel any thrill from being beneath the pennant banners connected from house to house.

Kunukuzushi isn’t interested in the celebration, in fact, when he explained this to his companion, he can’t help but scoff; the irony was just there—everyone having to celebrate the birth of the missing child of the Empress that might’ve passed away already.

What’s more was that the Empress seemed convinced the child was alive and was searching for them now since they are supposed to be near the age for having a royal debutante.

Nobles were so irresponsible, and his companion was too forgiving.

If given the time, Kunikuzushi would want to drill in his companion’s brain about his hatred towards people, his experiences about being left, and his disgust for feeling like his companion had been taking everything lightly.

He definitely did confide to his companion about it all except the fluttering feeling that he used to feel disgusted of before meeting his companion; the way his companion thinks wasn’t one that he gets to see too often—his companion might be the only person that he knows that is objective even when having high morals.

“Kuni!” Just like that, he found his companion, who was waving towards his way and then looking side to side before his companion was the one to walk towards him instead. “I bought a calendar—!”

Kunikuzushi wasn’t born luxurious; the moment he learned that he was going to live a hard life started when he was young, when he witnessed being abandoned by a golden carriage that bore a certain crest of a noble family. Prior to that, however, there were things that he couldn't remember.

He lives in a small town, a disregarded one at that; people were cruel, and in his view, it was either he learns how to deal with it lest he gets killed at an early age.

What more was that the place was prone to rumors and there were frequent crimes happening—Kunikuzushi had been living there for two years when the nobles decided to do something about it: by simply placing guards on the place.

The place flourished and more people—kinder ones—started moving in and it became populated to the point it even gained a name: Mikage.

Kunikuzushi doesn’t expect much from it, especially when the heinous crimes still continue; he wasn’t the nicest, and there were rumors of him having a hidden identity for being reserved or closed off in society.

Were those rumors because, despite his small structure, he’s able to be as wealthy as the lower-ranking nobles? They need better proof than that; being a bartender just happens to pay well—ah, the rumors were because he’s able to hurl his fists at people who don’t follow the policies of the bar he works at.

One night while on shift, Kunikuzushi had this customer—a woman, one he hadn't seen before—sure, everyone could have the same [color] hair and [color] eyes as this woman—but this woman wasn’t from Melius or from anywhere at all.

She wasn’t wearing a corset; it was obvious from the way this woman was able to slouch on her seat, or specifically just because of the shape of her body; it was considered an undergarment, yet even without it, this woman didn’t look uncomfortable.

The maiden asked for a simple drink and then never talked, simply drinking on the corner of the seat at the counter.

It wasn’t that Kunikuzushi thought the damsel was frail, but she was definitely weak—she wouldn’t survive this place before it became Mikage.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked the maiden.

Not that he was interested in the comfort of the customer, but he doesn’t want to be removed from a place that pays well and secures his identity as an employee.

“It’s actually... colder here than I thought,” the maiden responded as her fingers fiddled with the drink, and it was there Kunikuzushi noticed he was right about the woman being a maiden—unmarried. “Oh, and how much is this drink, by the way?”

Soft spoken but not scared; the maiden didn’t stutter in his presence, not like she has a reason to be scared; as long as the maiden doesn’t defy the rules of the bar, she has nothing to worry about.

Not like the regulars, men, who started a brawl on their first time.

Kunikuzushi only realized that he wasn’t able to reply quickly to the maiden when he met her [color] eyes, looking at hers with a tint of curiosity; the maiden was waiting for his response.

“It’s on the house.”

The maiden was feminine; she has that sweet, soft voice that doesn’t have a tint of fear or uncertainty, and even her eyes don’t have a speck of judgment in them.

Even the way her eyes widened a little in surprise, a bit of warm hue rising up to her cheeks as she suddenly averted her eyes from Kunikuzushi, almost embarrassed—or the better word for it: shy.

“Thank you...” she uttered to the bartender before looking up to him again. “Just... Just so you know... I’m planning to be a regular, so you shouldn’t do this too often.”

Kunikuzushi probably hit a nerve there, but he chuckled: “Is that supposed to be a warning?”

“I was just saying...” the customer, soon-to-be regular, muttered, loud enough to be heard by Kunikuzushi, who now just noticed the calloused index finger of the maiden. “It’s just that I drink a lot.”

“Turns out, she’s not perfect,” the bartender thought as he remembered his previous thoughts. “I thought she’s a perfect bait.”

With the current society, men preferred easily manipulated wives who are soft-spoken, those who would never question their husbands, or those who indulged in their husband’s dirty fantasies.

Kunikuzushi knew that much, which was why he never bothered with romantic relationships; he can never have a good perspective on the world.

It’s not like his stained hands can even hold something so pure; the reason why the maiden stood out was because she was a beam of purity—it was quite ironic that Kunikuzushi met her at the bar, though.

How can someone who drinks a lot have such pure energy?

To be sitting there without any trace of malice or even a trace of intoxication.

Kunikuzushi didn’t know she had this kind of complexion until he came face-to-face with one; not even the clergy in the temples could ever go against this maiden.

The bartender wasn’t obligated to watch over the maiden as she left the bar after drinking; he’s not obligated to look out for her safety to make sure she arrives safely at her destination.

It was only when Kunikuzushi got to his residence that he realized how shaken up he was to meet a human like that; the maiden looked weak, and it felt worse to know the maiden was soft-spoken—possibly nice.

His emotions were mixed up; he barely met her and he’s already making assumptions about the maiden’s mannerisms, age, and delight.

He remembers what she wore: the usual dresses commoners would wear—a ruffled white top and a dark-colored skirt that should have reached all the way down to cover the ankles—but the maiden wore a skirt a few inches over her ankles.

Why did it bother him so much? Why does he remember?

He’s met children who were unaware of the meaning of many words—they count as pure humans too, but children irk him.

He didn’t even know what being pure was or what the requirements were in his mind that he needed to see in something or someone before he labeled them as such.

What made that person so different? What was this lure that kept pulling him to the maiden?

It felt disgusting, like insects crawling inside his stomach that he wanted to claw out.

That maiden wasn’t the brightest, but she wasn’t dim either—she was just that—she looked soft, kind, and everything Kunikuzushi never faced when he started living a hard life.

“That isn’t just that,” Kunikuzushi thought as he placed a hand on his mouth, having felt foul towards the thoughts of that maiden.

It was as if he couldn’t process his own feelings of envy, but Kunikuzushi would know if he was truly feeling that way after seeing people live better than he did for years—he would know, but what he was feeling earlier was not jealousy.

“Tomorrow.”

There will be tomorrow.

Another shift. A restless shift.

It wasn’t that the work of being a bartender was too much for Kunikuzushi, but he was the restless one looking forward to seeing the maiden who said that she would start being a regular just the day before.

When the door opened to the bar, there was the [color]-haired maiden; she wore the same as she did before, but it had different hues, and this time, her hair was covered with a head cloth.

“What’s with that dreadful thing on your head?” the bartender can’t hide his distaste towards the cloth that hid the length and color of the damsel’s hair.

“Being [color] is apparently too noticeable for men’s eyes,” the customer responded as she rolled her eyes and then tried to adjust her head cloth to cover even the bangs. “Oh, and I’ll get the same that I did prior.”

“It’s not my business...” the bartender had to repeat in his mind as he turned away to get her the alcoholic beverage. “Not my business.”

The beverage was quickly placed down on the table, where the maiden was pulling out papers from her leather bag and a feather with an ink bottle.

Reading and writing were things only the privileged could do, and not even Kunikuzushi was able to gain access to those; he hadn't even seen a noble’s private library in his entire life—or perhaps he did.

He watched the maiden, who apparently was literate, tap the table in search of her cup before she held onto it and took a sip—that was where her ruffled sleeves showed a bit of her, revealing a purple-ish shade wrapped around it like an accessory.

“I don’t like that,” Kunikuzushi muttered, making the damsel raise her head from the paper, confused at his words.

“Are you talking to me?” the damsel whispered, a bit confused about what the bartender was talking about. “What do you not like?”

“That,” Kunikuzushi responded, pointing at the head cloth, which made the maiden place a hand over the cloth. “Why not let it down?”

“You like [color]?”

The bartender was thrown off, and the damsel laughed at him before looking back down at her papers, not even taking off the head cloth or asking for answers.

“I do not have any preference,” Kunikuzushi snapped.

“Sure you don’t,” the other replied sarcastically.

“I was merely asking—!”

“Oh, could you get me some ice?”

“The ice is thirty-one feet down,” the bartender replied, frowning. “As I was saying—”

“So you like [color]?” the maiden teased as she looked up from the papers, revealing scribbles that the bartender could not understand. “Just say so, and I’ll let my hair down for you.”

“You are getting on my nerves,” Kunikuzushi replied with a frown, yet did not feel offended by their exchange.

Being cut off when talking was supposed to be hurtful, yet it felt more like playful banter than both of them trying to be prideful and overpower one another—Kunikuzushi liked that.

Both their schedules worked like that, with the bartender’s shift being from night to dawn and the damsel would bring her work to the bar and work at that time until both of them had to leave; the bartender noted that the damsel liked to drink while working.

[name], that’s what the damsel’s name was; the quantity of how much she drinks heavily depends on the work she does—not only does she write, she can also draw—and that was what her work was; she calls it: blueprints.

Kunikuzushi also learned where she lives and they lived beside each other; when they realized they lived beside each other, [name] started muttering around her house while working past dawn.

The artist seems to get very little sleep.

She was loved by the neighborhood; Kunikuzushi couldn’t help but ponder on the reason why he hadn’t heard of her until now.

What he thought once about the damsel was gone, as they got closer, the more it sank in that [name] wasn’t any of the things Kunikuzushi made up in his mind.

She didn’t have some hidden identity and was secretly a noble—no, she was a commoner making a living by helping and saving pennies enough to afford a drink.

[name] wasn’t being mysterious; she openly laughed at her presence and would give satisfactory answers whenever Kunikuzushi asked about the maiden’s personal life.

“I work at the underground market, they pay a lot,” she whispered that day to Kunikuzushi, who was thrown off, and she moved away from the artist.

Just after that was revealed, on the same night, Kunikuzushi also had to save her from being taken by familiar black clothed mercenaries from an underground guild because they wanted her capabilities to draw structures; Mikage flourished because of [name]’s work.

“How much more are you going to drink?” the bartender asked as he looked outside the bar, assuring himself that the ‘closed’ sign she placed outside was making the regular customers disperse.

“Enough for a gold penny,” the artist responds, her nose red as she hiccupped after—she was horrified by the incident. “Oh, yes, and take... ten gold coins in my pouch, apparently that’s how much my life was worth, and since you saved it you can have the coins.”

“You have a sarcastic mouth for someone who was just clinging and sobbing earlier,” Kunikuzushi responded before he looked away from the artist. “I prefer it this way.”

It was bad enough that [name] clung to him earlier and Kunikuzushi didn’t know how to respond; to preserve a bit more of Kunikuzushi’s dignity after having frozen up that time, it would be best for him if [name] doesn’t seek that kind of comfort from him.

The poor maiden’s source of income turned their back on her for a reason that she can’t control, which was being knowledgeable—Kunikuzushi’s not sure of the extent but if that specific guild became greedy, it must’ve been more than he currently knows.

Still, in his eyes, [name] was innocent.

“I can keep it if you don’t want it,” the artist huffed as she wiped her cheeks that had a few red splatters. “How much are your services?”

“Two gold pennies.”

“And your house tax?”

“Sixty-three sil—” the bartender had to pause in his words. “Why are you asking about my house?”

“Let me live there,” [name] sniffled. “I’ll pay your house tax and services every day. I don’t want to even be away from you for more than a meter.”

“You don’t sound serious.”

“Do you want a blood pact?”

“Are you a witch?”

“I’m very human, thank you.”

[name] was strange, because the damsel made a fuss about sleeping on the same bed with very little shame, exaggeratedly murmuring and grumbling about being scared.

The same damsel sobbing and crying earlier easily fell asleep, but that was only because she disturbed Kunikuzushi by clinging to him for comfort.

[name] made Kunikuzushi’s arm numb.

He, however, looked up to his ceiling, his mind wondering how it came to be how it was then; he was awfully disgusted at her just a few weeks back then.

Insects being in his stomach were still there and it doesn’t change the fact that he hated their existence, still wanting to claw them out yet he doesn’t move.

He thinks back to the incident earlier; [name]’s words towards the mercenaries were harmful, and though she was in clear panic, she was able to get Kunikuzushi’s attention by simply kicking his door, though weakly.

The artist wasn’t triggered by the aftermath either; she feared her situation and specifically only that, not minding if Kunikuzushi’s hands were blooded from having to save her.

He was right; [name] was weak.

But she was saved because of her quick thinking.

As the victim continued to remain asleep, being in the comfort of someone who remained as the victor over three men, he wondered if it was not a bit hypocritical of [name] to feel safe with someone who could easily overpower her?

Perhaps she felt safe because, after all, Kunikuzushi did save her, but wasn’t his strength intimidating?

Not to mention he was also a man.

The victor doesn’t know what he’s thinking as he placed a hand behind the victim’s head and cradled her; Kunikuzushi’s hand rising up to [name]’s head before he curls just enough to place his chin over her head.

It was so dangerous—to trust and to rely—yet he wished to find solace in the person in his arms as much as the damsel sees in him.

If Kunikuzushi was right about another thing, it was the fact he wasn’t envious of [name]; he felt a totally different thing.

With Kunikuzushi’s security [name] received, he wondered what it would be that he would receive from the latter.

[name] emptied her stomach, felt nauseous, and her entire body was sore the moment she woke up; she didn’t feel any better when Kunikuzushi only laughed at her for having drank a lot the night prior to drown her anxiety for almost being kidnapped.

Now feeling awake, Kunikuzushi became conscious of what he pondered about the night before—about wanting to find solace in [name].

He wasn’t sure if he was in the right mind at that night, because how can he find solace in someone who was exaggerating a cry whilst laying her head on a huge paper on the table; the exact blueprint that was the reason for last night’s incident.

“Oh fiddlesticks, I forgot my quill in my house...” she muttered before she looked back at Kunikuzushi, batting her eyelashes in his way. “P-perhaps on my behalf...”

“I’m charging you for this,” Kunikuzushi hissed his words before he headed for the door.

“You have my gratitude, short man!”

Living with [name] felt unreal, because he had never met someone nearly similar to him in a different aspect—both of them having clothes lasting for a week and having the same style but different colors.

Despite being loved by the neighborhood, even [name] had little utensils, for example: having only two clay cups for drinking, two plates for drinking and a singular bowl.

The reason for having very few items were the same as well: because it was a waste to buy something just because they are pretty—most pretty items were left unused.

Another similarity was that despite having much currency as a lower-ranking noble, both of them prefer to keep their money safely kept until for emergencies or if it’s for work.

[name] was considerably more affectionate than Kunikuzushi had thought; she liked having to act the male part of what Kunikuzushi gives, especially when they lock arms to buy ingredients.

It was like living with a witch, because [name] was simply talented. She can cook and she created the weirdest yet convenient things in Kunikuzushi house with Kunikuzushi’s permission; they have a water dispenser now, and it was clean boiled water, not simply water from the well or faucet.

There also wasn’t a day [name] forgot to pay Kunikuzushi for his services in keeping her secured in his place, but Kunikuzushi had forgotten about it until he would see a bowl filling up with gold pennies each day.

Unbeknownst to [name], when she would work at the bar at the same time shift as Kunikuzushi, when the bartender says ‘my treat,’ it actually means he’s using a gold penny that satisfies [name]’s drinking habits for a week.

Dawn was when they usually rest.

[name] propped her arm on the bed for support to look down on the person that gave her shelter as she whispers, “I realized that you go home by dawn and we sleep, right? Shouldn’t we do something about our upside down schedule?”

“Like?” Kunikuzushi asked, a brow raised while waiting for his roommate's response. “I don’t have to, but you definitely do.”

“Chamomile tea,” [name] suggested.

“What makes you think we can afford that?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Who says we can’t?” [name] asked, a small grin on her lips. “If not chamomile, perhaps a different kind of tea—it’s not like all kinds of tea are only for the high-ranking nobility, we have rights too!”

“Chamomile is the least expensive of all.”

“Just agree with me on it,” the artist muttered as she moved just a little closer to Kunikuzushi, who visibly flinched. “If chamomile tea won’t help us sleep, perhaps medicine would? Scented candles are trending nowadays but they’re not that hard to make by hand... or we can use the money for a comfortable bed, not like we have budgeting limitations.”

“A comfortable bed?” Kunikuzushi scoffed, a smirk on his lips as he placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her away a bit to create a distance between them. “Are you implying you’re not cozy in my bed? You speak as though you don’t snore.”

“That’s because I don’t snore! You’re just accusing me of doing so!” the artist retorted as she jabbed her finger on Kunikuzushi’s collarbone. “I was murmuring! I wasn’t snoring—I was talking to myself!”

“You want to change a bed just so you’re cozy enough to snore?”

“I don’t snore!” [name] retorted before she gave up on trying to say otherwise and laid back down on the bed. “I don’t know, I thought a bed would mean we’d both be relaxing and all that... don’t you get sore too?”

“Do you?” Kunikuzushi asked, now being the one to prop his arm on the bed, making [name] tense. “I don’t.”

“Well, considering that I’m not used to heavy labor...” the artist muttered just enough to be heard. “It makes sense if it’s just me.”

“Shouldn’t you have... just suggested that you hire someone who is good at massage therapy?”

“And have someone’s hands on me? That’s an absolute no from thy,” she responded, frowning softly before she turned away from Kunikuzushi.

“To be fair, I’d hate it as well,” Kunikuzushi commented.

“And It’s not a big deal either, the next thing we know, our neighbors might send us canned goods and would be under the impression that one of us is sick.”

Kunikuzushi didn’t think much more of it as [name] reached for the blanket, and placed it over herself before turning back to Kunikuzushi with her [color] eyes blinking fast—batting her eyelashes.

“Disgusting,” Kunikuzushi muttered but kept his arms open and his heart at bay to provide more warmth for the artist.

He was getting used to the sight of his companion’s squished cheek on his arm and the coldness of her hand on his waist, or perhaps he was already used to it.

In a span of months, he got used to having someone beside him.

“You’re drinking too much,” the bartender would say and would take away [name]’s empty drink to replace it with a cup of water.

“You’re the one enabling it,” she murmured as she placed the cup of water down after drinking. “I told you to stop treating me.”

Kunikuzushi took the cup and refilled it with water as if telling the artist to drown every bit of alcohol in her mouth; surprisingly, [name] had a tolerance for the beverage she drinks every day.

He became aware that if [name] were to continue her drinking habits as she does now, she will soon grow ill—one that might be irreversible.

It was dawn and [name] continued to work on her notebook, scribbling letters that Kunikuzushi didn’t understand, not like Kunikuzushi took a peek anyways; he was busy bussing the tables.

The artist felt her perspective shift as she stumbled at first upon getting up, much to the surprise of the bartender, who stared at her with a raised brow.

“What is wrong with you...?”

“Well, I wonder what,” the artist replied sarcastically as she held onto the stool she sat on earlier. “My stomach was flooded with water.”

“Even if you drown me, you won’t emit such a reaction from me,” Kunikuzushi said as he placed the towel on the counter. “Nauseous?”

“I’ll admit to it if you carry me home,” the artist scoffed as she climbed up her stool and placed her notebook, quill, and ink back in her leather pouch.

“Since you can answer me like that, I think you can handle yourself,” the bartender said.

“Oh no! My head is in shambles! I think I will fall! Yes, I will definitely pass out in the middle of somewhere! I might get hit by a carriage—!”

“Stop exaggerating!”

“Fuck! That really hurts for real this time! Who hits you in the head when you’re having pain in the head!?”

“What even is that word!?”

It was just a week later when both of them realized it wasn’t merely soreness for having different physique; after all, [name] suddenly stumbled on multiple occasions despite no longer drinking under Kunikuzushi’s watch.

At the time of Kunikuzushi’s shift right before they left, they had an argument about [name] needing to go to a clinic to get herself checked, to which she disagreed.

Standing in the argument: [name] doesn’t want to get checked just because she doesn’t want to and it’s only a ‘minor’ thing that will disappear soon, while for Kunikuzushi it is better to be safe than sorry.

For once, [name] stayed in bed, never getting up to go to the bar to keep the bartender company; Kunikuzushi is under the impression she doesn’t understand what it was like to be cared for.

Even in bed did the artist have her back turned on him, but the relieving yet heartbreaking of that part was that Kunikuzushi, who had came home

after mulling over their argument, realized that [name] was now capable of sleeping alone.

It shouldn’t have stung this much.

“Why are you just standing there?”

“You’re taking up all the space,” Kunikuzushi replied as a reflex to defend himself from having a bit of his dignity broken.

The artist raised a brow at him, but with her half-asleep state, she rolled and felt the empty space beneath her that she noticed first before her heart dropped.

Kunikuzushi grabbed the blanket that bundled [name] just in time before she fell off the bed; he felt just a bit guilty for lying and nearly causing harm to her.

“If you want my soul out of my body, just say so!” [name] said as she moved slowly to get back to her place earlier.

She crashed on the bed on her chest before grumbling about her heart dropping and then she patted the space beside her as she turned her head, cheek resting on the pillow.

Kunikuzushi sighed, “Maybe you should consider our argument earlier.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve done my self-reflection,” her companion replied but her eyes avoided Kunikuzushi’s. “I’ll get that... saddle-goose... whatever check-up.”

“Was it necessary to swear?”

“Kunikuzushi,” she murmured as she laid on her side to face her friend. “Listen, I didn’t want to fight you earlier—”

“But we did.”

“And I’m sorry,” she murmured, her hands obviously shifting from beneath the blanket just by the sound, and her face just flushes the longer the silence goes on. “Can you not stare while I’m talking...?”

“I don’t stare,” the other responded as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re just anxious.”

“Of course I am, I am confessing my crimes!” the artist huffed but she turned solemn quickly. “I... It’s just that I don’t... have currency yet. If I did follow you, I’m not... I won’t even be able to pay... your monthly rent or your services.”

For a year living with [name], Kunikuzushi had now just realized that [name] was starting to run out of money for paying Kunikuzushi’s services every single day without fail.

Not only did Kunikuzushi forget the existence of that, but he also realized

that it was [name] that pays for his rent so they could remain on the same roof—and living with her was something he personally enjoyed.

“What happened to your job?”

“Well... ever since they tried to capture me, I stopped working for them—I mean, frankly, why shall I return to them after trying to kidnap me for what I can do?” the artist said, quietly, ashamed and a bit irked. “So I tried working for nobles.”

“By Jove, nobles?” Kunikuzushi emphasized on the word.

“I wasn’t paid well,” the artist said, frowning softly. “I have it bad.”

“You think you have it bad,” the other responded as he laid on the side of his place and then pressed a finger on [name]’s forehead. “Let’s start compiling our currency together.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Be serious for once,” Kunikuzushi groaned as he covered [name]’s face with his palm, earning a muffled hum of confusion from her. “I never asked you to pay for any of that, I only charged you for asking me to get your quill from the other house.”

“The end of my bargain—”

“You’re my only friend.”

“What does that have to do with... me paying you?”

“I’m doing you a favor, just shut up and mix your pennies with mine lest we start fighting again.”

“I like you, you know?” [name]’s laughter was muffled. “It makes me a little happier that you like [color] enough to take me in even though we knew each other for months.”

“And your type?”

“Bluenettes.”

“Bluenettes?” he scoffed before he averted his gaze from [name] and then to the ceiling. “I like having you around too, but it feels weird to oddly phrase it out loud.”

“By the way, when...?” [name] asked. “When and where?”

“The clinic... I’ll just bring the person to you,” Kunikuzushi responded, chuckling a little. “Oh, and... I’ll bring that person the day after tomorrow, make some time.”

“You know you can’t just barge in the clinic and pull someone aside, right?” the artist reminded as she felt a little thrown off, it was at her expression. “It takes weeks to be called on, as far as I know at least...!”

“You can if you have connections,” Kunikuzushi said, sounding as though he was boasting with the small smirk on his lips, to which [name] scoffed. “It’s not hard to pick and find someone capable.”

“And this person turns out to be a fraud?”

“Might as well just die and never appear.”

“Someone pray for that poor unfortunate soul.”

Because of the decrease of [name]’s health, she has been staying at the house and working from home; he doesn’t allow her to drink anymore and opts to bring her something else.

She asks him to do errands for her, including delivering the ‘blueprints’ that she has to sell to nobles, buying fruits and food ingredients.

They start drinking what [name] calls: Juice—and it tastes exactly like the fruits she asks Kunikuzushi to bring home; he was convinced that it is healthy to drink.

Those errands tire Kunikuzushi, but he doesn’t complain, not when by the end of the day, there’s food on the table, their shared bowl was getting filled up, and he can just crash in the bed and sleep.

He returned at dawn after work, and usually, he would ignore anyone on the way because he doesn’t usually bother with anyone, except for the old lady fidgeting near their door.

His eyebrows furrowed because he knows her, and [name] knows her too; she would talk to the lady outside the house for an hour or two because she was nice enough to help the lady read the newspaper.

“Oh, how fortunate!” the old lady exclaimed as soon as she saw Kunikuzushi. “I wanted to read the newspapers that were handed this morning, and I was about to leave because I thought she was asleep but I heard something fall! I have tried knocking but to no avail!”

“Since when?” Kunikuzushi asked, walking to the door and knocked on it to announce his arrival as he patted his pants for his keys.

“J-just minutes prior to your arrival...”

“For Christ’s sake...” he muttered. “I don’t have the keys.”

“I-is she okay...?”

He was tired; he wanted to lay down to rest to wake up for breakfast momentarily and then rest again until nighttime, but the situation wasn’t allowing him to.

“I’ll take care of it, you can go home.”

There was this twinge of irritation for being impatient when it comes to reaching the bed, but knowing [name] was unwell and learning that there was a loud thud from inside that could be heard from outside, Kunikuzushi placed her agitation aside.

He removed the safety pin from his clothing that she kept despite not needing it all the time, but he always had it for one sole purpose: to pick the lock in case he was locked out.

Kunikuzushi left the pin on the door as he opened it slowly, both wary and worried about who or what could be on the other side, but seeing as it was empty, he fully pushed the door open.

[name]’s name left his lips as he looked at the side, no one, but on the other side, laid [name] on the table, [bright/dark] hair sprawled all-over.

His heart clenched as he immediately rushed beside [name] to observe everything better; a hand on her forehead that went down to feel the temperature on her cheek, while his other hand prepared to carry her.

He took mental notes of her feverish, unconscious state and what the situation looked like; no matter how nice [name] was to everyone, Kunikuzushi’s hatred towards everything and everyone flared up.

Instead of seeking refuge, Kunikuzushi does everything on his own.

From observing [name]’s state, making sure she had a cloth over her forehead, and then wiping the ink splatters on her calloused fingers.

It was already confirmed that she was frail, but the thought of this severity was something Kunikuzushi tried to avoid thinking; he witnessed her stumble, fall, and then get up only to laugh it off.

Why hadn’t he noticed that she was sick before he left the house?

He cleaned the dishes on her behalf while also tending to her using methods he had learned during his early days; he rested [name]’s ankles, pressing a cold item nearby, compressing it, and elevating it every few minutes.

Does he really want to keep such a frail person in his line of sight—moreover, in his life?

It hits her that he can never fight against reality if ever [name]’s drinking habits caught up to her and if this incident was the cause of that.

Kunikuzushi was in the middle of kneading [name]’s fingers with oil in his hands as an attempt to smoothen the callous on the artist’s fingers when she woke up; he can tell that she was in pain especially when she flinched every now and then.

She was aware of what Kunikuzushi was doing yet didn’t utter a word, but she did let out a breath and then looked up at the ceiling; Kunikuzushi can only assume that the reason why the patient shut her eyes so tightly was because she felt disorientated.

He wondered if the patient’s eyes were hazy with the way she squinted her eyes a little to look at her hand that was being massaged by him.

“You should wear.... a mask,” she uttered, her voice dry and quiet, but as always, it was enough to be heard, and Kunikuzushi scoffed leaving to grab a cup of water.

“If you have the time to think about that, what about explaining to me what happened first?” he asked, sitting on the bed with a cup at hand that he placed on the nearby table.

“Won’t be the better question be how I’m faring?” the patient whispered as she attempted to sit up, but ended up grunting instead of actually moving.

“Better question is: how bad is it?”

“I will... out of five... rate it three,” she whispered before she gave a glance at the cup. “Sit me up.”

He helped, he rolled her to her side, pushed her legs off the bed, and then pulls her up to sit before asking, “How’s your forehead?”

“My forehead is doing not-so great,” his companion responded before she groaned. “I want to throw up.”

“There’s a bucket on the side of the bed,” He said as he stood up to support her back while he grabbed the cup of water. “I’ll flood you again with water.”

[name]’s face scrunched up and opened her mouth to retort his words, but Kunikuzushi placed the rim of the cup on her lips and tilted it up, leaving her no choice but to drink.

She wished for mercy.

Kunikuzushi sat on the table he would dine with [name]; his eyes downcast at the lines his companion drew in order to make a living as he heard the front door close shut with a gentle click.

Close—because the person that was supposed to check up on [name] arrived hours ago just left—the procedure to know about her state took hours just to hear news that she never wanted.

His breathing was ragged.

For the past year with [name], he was able to stop delving into his thoughts, in search for definitions and reasons to reasons what he feels and why he feels in such a way.

How can he now?

He was only able to avoid it because he achieved what he wanted: to find solace in the person who invaded his thoughts, his life, his home, and almost everything he had was shared with her.

And he was going to lose her.

He was too late to prevent it.

He choked because he thought that he didn’t try hard enough. All he had to do was to just place the cup of beverage away, to have prevented her sooner, or to have saved her from having her lung infected.

The thought of having to return to an empty house without seeing a single piece of paper on the dining table was taking away bits of his sanity that he preserved from having her.

Alone was he at first, without a single utterance of complaint for being so; used to it, he lived in a house so small that if he opened the front door, all of his items would be displayed before him.

Why now?

A singular human decided to ask for a drink at the bar suddenly became someone he lived with; his memories of what even happened were foggy because all he remembered was that he spent it with her lavishly.

The brown papers did not help him either—these were the reasons why she passed out before [name]’s arrival in the first place—she overworked to contribute to their bowl of pennies.

All of those happening in front of him yet it all slipped away from his observation that he couldn’t place a stop on them until it worsened.

He felt angered by the system.

The system that cheated on [name]: the underground guild for being greedy for her talents, the nobles that paid her less, and the bowl of pennies that she felt pressured to fill.

Kunikuzushi reached for the bowl; it was just made out of clay, but it was filled with his efforts alongside [name], except she had contributed more than he did.

He hated having to look at it, because it makes him think of everything he wished he could’ve done but didn’t.

The gold penny he takes weekly to use on [name]’s drinking habits, but he never thought that if he takes and takes from the bowl, it will keep refilling itself.

If there was someone who could read [name]’s mind, Kunikuzushi wanted to know why she was so determined to fill the earthenware—to fill the bowl that could never match her worth.

Kunukuzushi’s mind blanked and he dropped it, and he immediately cursed in his mind as he successfully caught the bowl before it fell, but he couldn't stop the heavy golden pennies from falling.

The sound clearly woke the patient up because Kunikuzushi could hear her groan and shift in her sleep; that made him stand up to tend to her, however, the clay bowl in his hands broke apart and added to the noise.

“Kunikuzushi...?”

If the bowl hadn’t fallen apart, perhaps [name] could’ve continued sleeping; the patient now tries to sit up, making Kunikuzushi rush to her—he’s not ready to tell her anything.

“Go... go back to sleep,” he tried to convince her as he placed her hands on his companion’s shoulders to force her back to lying down. “It was only the bowl, I... knocked it off.”

“Are you okay?”

Kunikuzushi was surprised; his eyes glistening as he faced the same [color] orbs that he did when they first met—their life has been filled with banter and their conversations weren’t serious that [name] had to revert to her previous tone—the soft and unjudging look.

He felt like the words were at his throat, and [name] had to hold his hands with her now warm hands because of her feverish state; he wanted to scoff, brush her off, and make fun of her as usual.

How come [name] was able to see through everything so quickly? She saw it with such haste, noticed the mood, and opened about it.

The shaking of her hands must be prominent; the tremble and wobbling of his lips at the sight of someone so unaware of her situation—aware of everything, but hers.

His words were forced as he said, “Forget it, and go back to sleep.”

“Kunikuzushi, breathe,” the sickly person had to say that to someone in a better condition than her. “I’ll sleep, but I need to...”

“What are you saying?” he asked, feeling irked that he wasn’t being followed and that he was caught vulnerable. “I said go to sleep, it’s still early.”

“I-I’ll follow you,” [name] stuttered now as she tried to pick his fingers from her shoulders. “But you follow me too, you’re panicking right now, and it’s making me feel the same—your touch... is painful.”

She breathed out before continuing her words, “So breathe... I’ll be here until you’re ready... but don’t stay too close, I’m sick.”

She frustrated him; he wanted to act normal, to act as though he didn’t hear the dreadful news—he wanted to scoff and say that she wasn’t the type to get sick.

In his eyes, she had always been so smart to predict what he could potentially feel in the future based on events that already happened.

The patient’s lips thinned, perhaps because Kunukuzushi noticed it himself that his breathing didn’t calm down in the slightest and his eyes were just staring as if he wasn’t in the same place as her.

He was, but his thoughts are in shambles, because he would never know when was the next time he will ever get to have her like this, or to even be in her presence—there will never be a next time.

It was when [name] had decided to cup his cheeks that he snapped out of the thought and he wanted to be greedy, to have more, to have what was presented, and so his walls collapsed.

His breath remained trembling as he buried his face on her chest and then up to the crook of her neck, much like a cat; he lavished the feeling of his companion’s hands on the back of his neck, pulling him down to her despite his weight.

He muttered what happened; each word was forced, his lips biting back sob per syllable: the alcohol got to [name]’s lungs, and though the disease was well-known by older people who waste their lives drinking, there wasn’t a cure.

There are temporary solutions, but never a full-healing remedy.

“You’ll be okay,” the patient murmured as she brushed the blueish locks of her somber roommate.

Kunikuzushi wondered what she was thinking about when she said that; he wondered if it was a form of self-reassurance or if it truly was to reassure him that she would remain living the same even after what he heard and told her.

There will never be a part of him that will be okay.

He wanted to retort, to yell at her for even saying that, for [name] to assume that everything will be normal—to ask loudly why he’s the only one feeling so strongly about it.

[name] was trembling too.

It was the last straw before the person, who finally found solace, started to sob at the shoulder of the sick who he found solace in.

The world was so unfair to [name].

There was more he wanted to see her do; he wanted to have her talents recognized by the world, to have her name be credited to every structure she planned and drew with her hands.

It was her idea and never theirs.

Change on that day was inevitable—in Kunikuzushi and in [name] as well, after learning her time was limited yet she pretended as if it was all the same if she didn't consider that days after, she was fired from her work despite being useful.

People who lived nearby would hand [name] baskets with ‘get well soon’ cards much to their ignorance; Kunikuzushi did nothing to correct them.

He was barely home anymore; he had a fear of going to his house and seeing another bruise on [name], blood splatter on her clothes, or worse, seeing her not breathing.

He began developing self-hatred for having better immunity than [name], and for being able to do things she couldn’t do because of her situation.

It was something he was proud of, but not it turned into nothing but reasons to hate everything.

He can’t help but clench his first whenever he sees her outside the house, having to hold back from reprimanding her for being outside without anyone watching over her.

His worry was evident, and perhaps the sick [name] could notice it as well, especially when she would follow his instructions quickly without question just to ease his mind.

Kunikuzushi reverted to his previous doings; the previous rumors sparking an idea within him, because, for him, doing it was nothing if it means to keep [name] alive for another second, another day, luckily if another year.

He has to keep you alive, even if his hands, which were used to tend to her, were stained red. There may be no cure, but the temporary remedies are what he needed—he just had to afford it.

When given the time to think, he would think about [name]’s changes: she eats all three meals in the day alone, she also started leaning more to writing than drawing, and she would smile softly at her whenever he bids her bye for the day.

Medicine was only used for the fortunate and people who heal nearby Mikage, a commoner place, barely even know how to read—[name] was fortunate to be able to.

Kunikuzushi had someone ship him medicine that he saved for.

[name] was in the middle of writing when he suddenly dropped the pouch on the table, making her jolt a little and give her an innocent confused look, but her smile dropped after seeing the small globular item.

When it comes to medicine—syringes were expensive, commoners can have access to a few and nobles are available to have all—pills were the harder ones to have, they are created delicately that everyone was stingy to give them away—the royal family are the only ones to have them, including the black market.

“What’s this?” she asked as she scrambled to place the fragile items back in the pouch lest she accidentally breaks one and has to pay for it. “This... this is not part of our budget! We never talked about this...!”

Kunikuzushi was exhausted; he felt hurt to see her scramble to take care of the medicine in the pouch and tried to hand it back to him.

He can see the way his companion’s hands tremble as he placed the pouch on Kunikuzushi’s now-calloused hands; she seemed to notice this and her attention magnified on it.

“Did I mistake it...?” she whispered before she looked up to Kunikuzushi. “Are you sick? Are these yours?”

“Mine?” the other scoffed, his eyebrows furrowed and then he snatched the pouch from her. “You think—this is mine? For what even? Do I look sick to you?”

“I-I don’t want to assume!” she stuttered as she looked thrown off by her roommate’s slight aggression. “Are you hurt?”

“What?”

The more she spoke, the more he was getting agitated.

“I’m sorry for touching it,” she apologized, her mind seemed to be hazy with the way she can’t think about what she’s saying anymore. “I’ll just get fresh air! I’m sorry for touching what was yours.”

“What... are you talking about?”

His hands were clenched as he tried to understand the way she acted; [name] thought the medicine belonged to him as though all the hardship he went through for the week wasn’t all for her.

Every wall he built for the past week after learning [name]’s condition broke so quickly, because her words made it seem like she wasn’t involved in his life anymore, but mostly because [name] sounded like she was resigning to her fate.

Did she?

He opened his mouth to mock her, to tell her that she was as weak as her physique and for giving up early, but he instinctively placed a hand on his mouth because what escaped was a sob.

He is so frustrated.

As usual, [name] turned her eyes on him and immediately tried to console him without knowing why he was shedding tears in the first place: [name]. [name]. Everything was for [name].

[name], whose hands went to Kunikuzushi’s hands, arms, shoulders, neck, and then cheeks with a worried and panicked look.

[name], who Kunikuzushi wanted to tell everything to, about the self-hatred that was eating him alive since last week, and the insects that in his stomach that he learned were butterflies.

[name], who Kunikuzushi kept his burdens away from, because he’s afraid that the weight of his problems would also become hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” she muttered repeatedly as she desperately struggled to wipe Kunikuzushi’s never ending tears. “I—was I too heavy to carry? I’ll be better.”

Kunikuzushi had no idea what [name]was talking about.

She said those words as though she wasn’t neglected, like she wasn’t coldly treated, like she hasn’t eaten all three meals without him, and like she hasn’t suffered.

It seemed like [name] was insecure; Kunikuzushi had to get his bearings in order to understand her.

[name], who lost her job for being sick, and who was disposed of despite having an enormous range of talents; perhaps, while Kunikuzushi stained his hands and slaved away, [name] got insecure for never filling the new bowl.

Kunikuzushi felt his frustrations build up again; everything, as always, was in front of him but he missed it all again.

“It’s for you,” he whispered, her hands holding onto his companion’s arm. “It’s for you—I want to keep you alive.”

For someone so insecure, that immediately made [name]’s eyes stung, and now that Kunikuzushi tried to see her perspective and piece things together, he understood; [name] was pressured to fill the new bowl again.

[name] whispered, “But I have nothing to give.”

“There is so much you did,” Kunikuzushi whispered, his hands lowered down to the fabric by the damsel’s hips, his eyes glossy. “You... you are simply too humble to realize.”

“I have nothing but clothing that’s only for a week, my quill, my papers, a cup, two plates, and a broken bowl,” [name] listed all she brought in Kunikuzushi’s house from the start. “But I will believe you. I feel... reassured.”

From that, Kunikuzushi can’t help but feel relieved and he wrapped the damsel in a warm hug, but a sinking feeling now that it’s highly likely that [name] would never find out what he did to get the medicine.

He relished the feeling of the damsel, choosing to forget his deeds, and choosing to continue what he has now.

If problems were to arise, he would deal with it, but for now, he will focus on [name] and try to delve more on the feelings in his stomach—or what people say ‘heart’.

With [name]’s presence; the fact he was still there, Kunikuzushi can bear it all, all the in-coming pain for choosing not to abandon her—he doesn’t have to tear down the world that was so cruel to her yet.

His breathing was shallow when he woke up facing the ceiling of the home he built with his companion; his head pounded, not remembering what it was in his dream that caused his emotions to go wild at such a time of the night.

He felt as though his throat was parched and his eyes stung that made him rub it in order to be relieved, but when he looked at his hands, he realized that they were calloused.

For some reason, he felt suffocated, but hasn’t he felt that way ever since he found out that her time was shorter than his beloved and that he couldn’t do anything about it other than try to extend it for a little?

[name]’s time will never be longer than Kunikuzushi’s—now that he thought about her, he wondered where he was.

The thought of her was suffocating Kunikuzushi oh-so-little, but he had to find her, the one to cause him pain and solace; it was dark as well, where else was [name] supposed to be other than the bed?

He hasn’t seen her since he started recalling everything and getting sentimental; he can feel his heart race at the possibility that [name] had passed out somewhere around the house, he used that energy to get up.

The house was as empty as his stomach, since the time he reassured [name], they have been taking turns in cooking, but he supervises her, who had to hit him with the pan for doing so.

From his place in the tiny house, he caught a glance of [name] dozing off on the couch, but he quickly drank water before walking up to the couch and sitting on the armrest.

He was thrown off by what [name] wore; she was taking up all the space with her small height and white outfit—yet he feels like that's the least of his worries.

“Why are you on the couch?” he muttered as he brushed his finger over her cheekbone up to her temple to brush the stray hair aside.

The feeling of her skin and the way her hair moved felt odd; he felt his heart just kept sinking the longer he stared at the unconscious damsel.

“Don’t you think your hair is a little... brighter?” he thought as he softly frowned. “Are you awake?”

It wasn’t making sense why she was holding her breath.

[name]’s face was something Kunikuzushi memorized; the oily skin and red patches that she was insecure about was gone, and even the ‘beauty mark’ she called that was near her [part] was gone.

Those facts were alarming, which was why Kunikuzushi got off the armrest to kneel by her side on the couch to see her better than where he was sitting earlier.

“[name],” he whispered, his voice laced with a tint of fear as his fingers glided over the white outfit she wore to find the spots that made [name] squirm in the past.

[name] knows that he was sensitive to the subject of her sickness, and he knew she knew, yet it seemed like she still chose to prank him about it.

He panicked as he pressed on her skin, knowing that she’d wake up if he pressed too hard because she was someone who was easily pained.

Was [name] the sort of person to pretend to be so still and motionless to the point of not breathing?

[name] was odd; her skin, her form of lying, and the way she refused to breathe, but she had always been odd because she give and gives—and what it was she takes from Kunikizushi, she returned it all ten times more.

she was never this still; she was full of life, like when she waved at him when she was on the other side of the path—like when her teeth showed as she smiled upon the success of buying a calendar for the new year because it was only out during festivals—like in his dream.

“What dream? What festival?”

As far as he remembered, he hasn’t gone on a festival with her yet; he feels like he’s losing a part of himself whenever he started remembering memories he never wanted to remember.

“You’re being too much now,” his voice cracked unintentionally, making sure to project as much emotion as he could so [name] would understand that her prank was going too far.

[name] was so aware of Kunikuzushi’s well-being and his mental state that she would know that she crossed the line if Kunikuzushi’s tone were ever akin to begging; she would never resist in attempting to console her.

“Joke’s over, you have to take your medicine,” he said as he placed her hands on her shoulders.

Even if [name] didn’t promise forever, she promised that she would try—and that was something Kunikuzushi believed in because he saw her—taking the medicine she deemed expensive, stopping her drinking habits, and taking a lot of time to rest even if she was a workaholic.

He waited for any reaction from her, whether it’d be her stifling her laughter, her lips thinning. or waking up and apologizing—at this rate, Kunikuzushi would take any of those scenarios.

He wrapped an arm around her nape and around on her waist to gently pull her up and make her sit—now, he felt something—a line that ran from [name]’s nape and upwards.

Her back was leaning on the couch, but her head was tilted upwards, leaning on the back rest, and the way her [color] hair was away from her shoulders was when the lines Kunikuzushi felt were exposed.

The truth was already in the back of his mind, but he wasn’t like her, who accepted the pressure together with reality.

[name]’s nape and up had stitches, and her skin glimmered like silk.

He couldn’t breathe as he took the lightness of her body—he couldn’t take it; he wasn’t like her.

He could never accept this.

He’s not ready to face the truth; both his hands moved to rest on her hips that were covered by a white fabric before he buried his face on her stomach.

The fabric wasn’t something he gave to her, he had never seen it in his entire life; he would never buy damask fabric, because that fabric was used for the dead.

He cannot tell what he was thinking; his mind goes into one thought, then another, and then another all at the same time.

[name] was a liar, and Kunikuzushi was delusional—his mind—thoughts—begging for her to cut off the entire joke she was continuing for the past ten minutes.

How could [name] remain so serious while Kunikuzushi was there—touching all he can of her with his head on her chest, uncaring if her body was nearly falling off the couch because he couldn’t resist his attempts to cover up the truth?

He desperately craved for her heart as much as he avoided having a confrontation with his memories.

Was this the compensation of the royal family that ran over her with their carriage whilst in a hurry?

The memory of the festival that happened hours earlier, one he deluded to be a nightmare, the memory of how loudly he yelled after seeing [name]’s body be trampled on and how every light in her faded.

The love continuously given to him was gone, taken away by something that wasn’t related to the disease that was supposed to slowly eat [name]’s life away.

How twisted is the royal family to compensate Kunikuzushi by dressing his beloved in silk and damask? To patch up the face of her and not even put the tiniest details she used to have? How dare they even touch her in the first place?

He cried all she could that day, regret and revenge deeply rooted in him even though all of those were the opposite of what [name] had taught him.

Having lost someone he never got to confess to broke his mind, especially when after [name]’s funeral was visited by a member of the royal family.

He can’t handle the scowl on his face and the way his blood boiled quickly, but all of it dissipated quickly when he learned the reason why the royal family was at the festival.

They were looking for him: Kunikuzushi, the lost son of the royal family that the empress loved so much.

He laughed and laughed as though he was unhinged, and he laughed even if the member of the royal family looked at him as if he was non-human; he laughed even if his eyes became glossy and brimmed with tears.

Kunikuzushi, the one [name] thanked the most, was indirectly the cause of her death.

The empress knew nothing of love, because in Kunikuzushi’s eyes, what would this insignificant woman know?

Not only was she the one who bought all the blueprints [name] made and sold to the black market, she was also the one to take [name]’s ideas and make the buildings knowing well that it was never hers.

Kunikuzushi had to be patient; he would burn the place down and have everyone by his will—he would be the opposite of everything [name] was—the only good thing recorded in history was that he gave credit to her ideas.

THIS IS HEIZNX, i actually recycled this and made it a OC kinda story, but i still made it inspired by scaramouche. i submitted it to my teacher printed formatted and everything, but there were typos like goddamn i was abt to kms and the TYPO JUST OS HAPPENED TO BE AT THE DRAMATIC PART i WAS IN TEARS. and they were lesbians when i submitted it too. im so sorry i had to make it straight, the mc was a woman in the descriptions so it changed a lot when i turn them gn... while typing this, i kinda realize this is different from stained hands though the original copy was stained hands, i think it's bc this focused more of the development in their friendship rather than getting married quickly.

#genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #heiznx.gi #heiznx.kunimoucherer

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heiznx · 1 year ago

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BETRAYALS

∗༝*◦✦ meeting him in shakkei pavilion.

BEFORE READING, this includes wanderer’s backstory, added scenes, removed scenes, and the timeline would be confusing.

|| NEXT▶ ||

You were not a god.

You played the game and had your heart flutter, break, and be stolen by many characters; the lack of romantic content would send you to your fantasies filled with what-ifs and imaginations of how characters would act if you do this or do that.

At your first arrival, you were confused about where you were, so what if you played the game? The game was not realistic, it was a 3D game with drawn or modeled items, and when you saw everything, it wasn’t the same as the game.

The difference was huge and so was the troubled feeling in your heart.

Almost everything was handed to you when you started walking around the place; the river was incredibly clean to drink on, the trees always have something to give, and the abandoned places have fabrics to give you.

Still, it’s not that you can actually feel safe in this place, not when everything was not as ‘modern’ as your world was, and you never knew how you had come to transport in this kind of place in the first place.

It was only when you stumbled upon a domain at night, the marbled structure with a symbol of three pointed sides, glowing together with the nearby plants that you don’t recall the name of because it was the least of your worries.

Genshin Impact.

You read works like that fandom, can’t say that you were as dedicated as the rest were, but you knew a few, because you tried to study the characters due to their appearance or their interesting personalities.

Alternative universes, and you were transmigrated like that? Unbelievable. You don’t have the power that those alternative universes have in which you were the god, and you didn’t have anything special; you weren’t aether or lumine, you were just you.

Tired, you sat by the tree and hugged your knees to your chest while using the fabrics you found as a way to keep yourself warm; you didn’t feel hopeful. You had no information about where exactly in Teyvat you were, what year, or who were the trustworthy people currently alive.

Frustrated to be away from the place you were used to and comfortable, tears stung your eyes, prompting you to place your palms over them as if you’re trying to shove the liquid back in your eyes—it worked though.

You shed a few tears, only a few, and the glowing light was a comforting feeling to you; it’s only been a day and you can’t help but wish to see a few people that was known in the game so they could be your source of comfort or the reason for you to know where to start.

How could you rest in an unfamiliar place? You closed your eyes, your tears piling up again even if you thought that your mind no longer had thoughts. You pulled the fabrics closer to your body and you tried to rest.

It’s too cold.

The domain couldn’t be too dangerous, you assumed, because in the game you have to turn on the mechanic to summon the monsters, and you could use the warmth of the place—it was not like you were in Dragonspine after all.

You looked up and held on the domain doors, pushing it open to have yourself be comforted by the light, but dread filled your body when someone was actually in the domain; you never encountered anyone yet in your travels, animals, sure, but not humans or monsters.

The person had a purple cloak, white clothing, purple hair and—you recognize him; this was not a person, but the puppet of the Shogun. The character you cried over was just a few meters away from you.

It was canon that he was pretty, he was described to be.

Your heart clenched as you saw him, laying in the middle of the domain that looked like it was taken from a place in Inazuma and shut locked in the domain, like a garden inside a bottle—as far as you know, he had no idea it was a domain.

Even if the trees were pretty and the view was a sight for sore eyes, you can’t help but tear up again; out of all the people you had to see first, it had to be the character your heart broke for so many times.

You now know the year it took place and where you were, and it did not ease the pain in your heart to know he could’ve been here for who knows how long, but you had to wipe your tears.

You wanted to help him, but what can you do? Not even you were from the world, no one knows you here, and you weren’t any different from him. You also didn’t want to change his future, because what if he doesn’t meet Lessor Lord Kusinali?

“Scara—” you said but your mouth clammed.

He has no name yet.

The puppet, however, turned to you, his face of curiosity and yours teary but you smiled regardless. At least you can take him out of the domain earlier than a certain samurai would, but you never knew the details.

You held the worn out fabric close to yourself, the scenery inside the domain being warmer than outside. You’re not sure what to say as you hesitated to even come near him; you can’t just give him a hug out of nowhere no matter how your heart breaks at his innocent stare.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered. “I did not know you were here and it was just cold outside.”

Your cheeks felt warm, embarrassed, and you’re not even sure if the puppet right now can even talk to you or understand your words because he was someone that wasn’t given a name before he was discarded.

Even your reason felt stupid, you sounded like you were invading someone’s home when it was a domain that anyone can walk in and walk out of—or can they?

You looked back and didn’t see the domain door and your heart dropped. This was the kind of domain without exit until you finish what is at the end of the domain, and you don’t remember what was inside this domain because it has been so long.

“Are you okay?”

Your heart nearly fluttered because this was someone who was now a blunt and not really soft-spoken person in the game, so hearing this tone on the character felt different, uncomfortably different.

“Oh, yes, uhm…” you said, stuttering your words a little before you hesitantly approached. “I… I’m sorry, but do you know what’s inside this place?”

To your observation though, he looked interested and flustered at the same time; you felt bad, because it was most likely because you were the first person he talked to ever since Ei left him there.

You nodded and then he replied, “Nothing…”

“Nothing?” your anxiety paused for a moment because you were bewildered, and he just nodded at you.

If there was nothing inside, then why was he still here? He could’ve gotten out on his own—unless he didn’t know how to get out in the first place or did he not know it was even possible?

“I… I see,” you muttered. “Hey… uhm… I’ll trust you since you said there was nothing…”

What else are you supposed to say? You can’t reveal anything from the game because it could affect the future, you thought of it like that as if you didn’t change the future by being the first person to meet him, and now you were going to attempt exiting the domain.

You felt a little stiff as you smiled at him and waved, the redness of the spot beneath your eyes and nose worrying him for some reason, because he never saw a human before, a human like you, at least.

He followed you, and you didn’t feel uncomfortable with him following you, except for the fact that he was following you—makes sense?

If you did find the exit, he would leave early too and you’ll destroy the timeline hours after you just arrived in Teyvat. You weren’t confident that you could give him a better life than what was ahead of him because you did not pay attention to details.

However, you do know that you can teach him to properly deal with his pain and emotions when the time comes, but you weren’t someone who graduated at psychology or anything that involves mental health; you’re just someone who observes.

“What are you doing?”

You can never get used to his tone, but he watches you slide the doors to the side or push them open in an attempt to find the exit, and he even follows you down the ladders and such.

“Investigating…?” you said but it sounded like a question, even the puppet was confused about your words, and you felt like you were going to flush again. “I’m just looking.”

You didn’t want to say you wanted to leave, because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings, you were probably—are—the first person he had ever met, and if you feel like if you found the exit, you wouldn’t be able to leave him without the shame and guilt building over you.

“I’ll go investigate with you,” he said and you felt something punch you in the gut by how innocent and soft-spoken he was. “I’ll help you.”

You smiled a little and then you turned around to continue walking.

In just a minute, you realized the puppet had no idea what investigating actually was and he was pushing and sliding doors open as you were earlier, in a way, what he was doing was right, but he looked endearing like that.

Endearing—the thought made your heart break again for the nth time. This person near you was someone who made you cry for days because you hoped his life would be better, because you felt like you understood his pain even if you hadn’t experienced it in the way he did.

You helped look around for exits, and you often look at drawers as well. You found a few mora and then when he noticed you were keeping circular gold coins, he started giving you the same looking coins whenever he sees one; it felt like you were robbing the place.

“Thank you, Kabu—” you clammed your mouth again. “Just… thank you.”

Clearly, as someone who never really had a social life, the puppet didn’t know how to respond to you, and your heart softened immensely. You continued, “The response usually is… ‘you are welcome’ or ‘you’re welcome’... It also can be ‘no problem’ if you weren’t burdened by what you were doing or ‘I’m happy to help’.”

“You’re welcome.”

Your heart warmed up, but then you realized that the reason why the puppet responded that way is because he probably can’t distinguish his own feelings right now; he had no lessons about his feelings and most likely didn’t know if he felt burdened by helping you or if he was happy to help.

You felt like going on your knees, crying and groveling in pain, because you messed up with him each time you opened your mouth to say something.

In the end, the last place you two checked just had to be the exit; you never tried to open it but it was the last door there, so it could be it for real, but you can’t find yourself to open it with the puppet in your presence.

“I realized you were looking for doors,” the puppet says. “Are you leaving?”

You don’t understand why he said leaving as if he didn’t plan to leave himself. You looked at him and whispered, “I really liked your company, even if I want you to come with me, I can’t do anything for you out there… I don’t know what will be out there, and I can’t help you…”

It was painful that you had to make the decision for the both of you, because you can’t trust the puppet, who barely had any interactions or say at the start of his life, make a decision; it was like he was a child in your eyes.

“You don’t know what’s out there?” he asked, his head tilting to look at you and your expression; he noticed that the redness of your eyes and nose disappeared. “How did you find me?”

“I wasn’t really looking for you, I was looking for a place to stay because it’s cold outside,” you said before you realized that barely hours had passed so it could still be cold outside. “I… you won't happen to be bothered if I stay, do you?”

“Can I… know more about you?”

He is so cute, once again, you want to grovel and cry about what he was going to go through and the fact you could do something about it but you didn’t want to because you weren’t confident enough to give him a better life.

You nodded before you sat down near the exit, leaning your back on the wall. You smiled at him and then pats the space beside you, at least, you want to try being beside a character you deeply adored.

Perhaps he felt some connection with you.

The puppet asked about your life and the basic information you know about Teyvat; he felt something he couldn’t point out when you told him that you don’t know anyone outside, it’s as if you two are new to the world, but you were human, no?

He doesn’t understand how you don’t know anyone and no one knows you, certainly, you’ve been outside longer than he was.

You had to pretend that you’ve been sheltered and it’s your first time going outside, which was, in a way in your modern life, true; you were quite introverted. He sensed a connection there.

He suddenly claims that he wants to go outside with you; he wants to experience what it is like outside too, with you, who he felt a connection with—someone he could relate to—someone he thinks he can trust, even if he wasn’t familiar with that concept yet.

You tried to explain to him that it won’t be easy, but he still wants to be with you still, you two are exploring the world for the first time, and he likes that thought.

You didn’t try to give him a name, even as he held your hand when you two left the domain after you took a nap to see that the sun was rising.

It wasn’t inevitable, when you entered that domain, you could’ve steeled your heart to go through everything and then leave him, but you couldn’t just ignore him, because for you, he was human.

He wanders around a lot, had you not been holding his hand, you would’ve lost him already, but you did let go of his hand and let him explore, just hoping he would scream if he ever encountered anything—not that you can save him though, but will save him.

You looked at the domain, trying to remember where Tatarasuna was. Maybe, just maybe, if he’s not too attached, you can safely leave him with the first person that ever found him: Kisaragi.

Tatarasuna was near a domain, but this domain, what domain is it? You don’t even remember. If Kisaragi found the puppet, then Tatarasuna must be nearby, no?

You look back to see that if you squint, you can see Seirai Island. You really must be near Tatarasuna, if you keep walking, you’re bound to find it—or if you wait Kisaragi might come by the domain and find you two.

You kneel away from the water and drop all the currency from the pouch; Mora was something you had a lot of in the game before you started leveling up a lot of characters just because you like them.

It can barely be used for food. You barely had 50 Mora with you.

The puppet watches you curiously and he comes back and kneels down beside you, wondering about your expression as your finger circles around the coin, refusing to acknowledge that you barely have money to go on.

You look at the puppet, prompting him to look at you. He’s so pretty and so carefree since he barely knows anything yet, and you didn’t want to teach him about poverty so early.

“Did you finish looking around?” you ask as you gather the coins and put them back in the pouch, and the pouch didn’t have some sort of void so you can feel its weight.

He nodded and you smiled at him; it won’t be easy to decide his future. You didn’t want to change his life in the game you were in, but you also didn’t want him to go down the road he did.

“Come on…” you stood up and offered your hand to him, hopefully, you would spot chests or eggs to cook. “Let’s look for a place to stay, but if we can’t… we might have to go back here and then look around again.”

THIS IS HEIZNX, IF YOU NEED TO BE MEAN BE MEAN TO ME :((( this is spoiler for the future chapters, ngl i want to put them in one but for some reason i limit myself to 2-3k words per post. im so not over his backstory even though i havent played it yet like i dont wanna break my heart

#genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #heiznx.gi #heiznx.kunimoucherer

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heiznx · 1 year ago

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Hi! I'm so glad you decided to continue working on Princess Arrival!!!! There is so little Neige content out there, and there is even less yandere Neige, so I'm really, truly happy that you fed the starving crowd (read: me). Please keep doing the lord's work and know that there will always be someone who loves your writing 💖

ACTUALLY EVEN I WAS SURPRISED BC I DIDNT PLAN ON WRITING PT.2 BC I THOUGHT THE FIRST PART WAS ENOUGH, but then i listened to pretty please and i folded

#heiznx. hehehe.

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heiznx · 1 year ago

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PRINCESS ARRIVAL — II

∗༝*◦✦ song and dance competition with neige leblanche.

BEFORE READING, this contains light swearing, implication of unrequited love, manipulation, slight yandere behavior, book 5 spoilers, and all that goes along with it.

|| ◀︎BACK || NEXT▶︎ || HEADCANONS ||

“Neige broke the school rules for what?”

It was a rumor that spread around Royal Sword Academy, merely a few days before the cultural fair known as Song and Dance Competition where Neige and the seven dwarves would be participating in.

Neige, the overly kind actor, suddenly—according to the rumors—rebelled against the rules of the academy by using a broom during practice for the cultural fair to fly outside the academy to save Night Raven College’s students.

It was not unusual for him to break the school rules since there were incidents where he would help other students and unknowingly go against the rules for them; he would apologize and everything would be in the past.

“I heard they had the fight on camera,” a student whispered, referring to a floating camera paparazzis set up to capture any little information about the artist. “But it was deleted world-wide…”

“Dear merciful seven, Ortho, thank you so much!” you exclaimed as you felt your heart stop racing, your face going near the floating screen, seeing the complete progress of deletion of a certain video. “I was about to start crying.”

“Yeah, Vil drilled on us for a long time…” Deuce responded and Epel nodded beside you. “We owe you one, Ortho.”

“You did promise to help my brother grind on his account so he can focus on preparing for his presentation,” the humanoid said, pointing at you, who nodded profusely with gratitude. “Brother said he’d even hack into the gadgets of those who still have the video if you do well.”

Epel had gotten extremely upset at one point that he left the scene, while he was walking, Deuce borrowed a blastcycle from an Ignihyde student and picked up Epel to drive him somewhere, and out of concern, you tagged along.

Who was supposed to know that there would be thugs there? Your instinct was to call someone close and famous—Neige LeBlanche—but you didn’t also know that he was popular to the point of being stalked whenever he’s outside the campus’ protection.

“You got the most earful, prefect,” Deuce sighed. “Who knew he would ask you on a date after that and it was caught on camera?”

“He just wanted to have a few hours of my time after the competition, it’s not a date,” you said, acting like you did not spend the hours overthinking what he wanted from you. “Perhaps a tour at the academy.”

Epel grimaced, “He’ll only be coming over at Night Raven College once, he doesn’t need to be toured around.”

“And you didn’t really owe him anything,” Deuce said. “I think I developed my unique magic and I planned on using it, if he didn’t arrive, I would’ve knocked ‘em out so we can escape still!”

“I’m a third year and I was the most useless of all,” you muttered, groaning internally as Ortho moved to pat your back gently, but the coldness of the materials used on his palm seeped through your clothes and it made you uncomfortable. “Thanks, Ortho…”

“Still, I think Vil-san is grateful that you didn’t let us act… violent,” Epel said even though he hated the thought of not being able to do anything during that situation and let Deuce take almost everything.

“Yo! Break time’s done, Vil’s calling everyone to go back to practice.”

“Oh, thank you again, Ortho. I’ll come by your dorm after practice so I can start grinding.”

“Nice to meet you and bye, Ortho!”

“Is something wrong, Rook?”

“I wish I was you.”

“What?”

“Moi?”

On the day of the fair, you had to stop your racing heart and mind from trying to distract you from what the fair artist would want to give you, because you had to put your focus on Trey and Riddle was trying to explain to you.

Riddle had you pause for a moment since you commented that you liked the way his tie was tied, prompting him to attempt to do it on your collar and you felt a little happy—happily distracted from what Neige wanted to ask from you.

“We’ve got a lot of visitors from Royal Sword Academy this year,” Trey said and you nodded, your chin hitting Riddle’s hand, prompting him to destroy the ribbon he was making and you sent an apologetic gaze.

“I’ll try to look around too, I’ll try selling my ticket—”

“The others would be sad to know that ‘ya weren't there, ya’know?”

“I’ve been with you all for two months,” you said in your defense, but a part of you was curious about the contestants. “The campus is filled with hot headed students, had it not been for Leona, I would’ve gotten bullied for the nth time, and most students actually dislike Royal Sword—”

— W H A M !

“Hey, punk. You’ve got snot all over my uniform. You’re not even gonna apologize?”

“I said I was sorry… Achoo!”

“Ewww! He sent more snot flyin’ our way!”

“By accent, you’d know it’s a NRC student,” you mumbled as RIddle stopped trying to tie your tie since he had to check on the incident. “Oh… Is that…?”

“Snick! Here, blow your nose.”

“Dominic!” you called as Riddle released you so you can head over to the dwarves. “How are you all here—”

“[name]-san,” the short gray-haired dwarf said, looking surprised, but he had to look away to apologize to the Night Raven College students Snicked bumped into. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll pay the cleaning bill for your uniforms.”

“You bet you will,” A student said and then at you. “Would ‘ya look at here—”

“Yes?” Riddle steps in, looking a little irked at the possibility of physical altercations happening on the campus on the very first day of the fair. “The culture fair has barely opened its doors, and picking fights is not a choice here.”

“Tsk.”

“How basic…” you muttered as you watched the students walk away upon being busted by the prefect of Heartslabyul. “Your reputation really goes around, Riddle… but are you guys okay, Dominic?”

“Thanks for the help,” Dominic says as he smiles at you, Grim, and the Heartslabyul students beside you. “As you can see…”

“Yeah, whatever, I coulda taken those guys with or without your help,” a pinkish haired dwarf grumbled, looking and most likely feeling ungrateful.

“Grum! Must you do this every time?” Dominic asked, his tone a little scolding as you felt a little uncomfortable with the slight bratty attitude from Grum. “Neige won’t be happy to hear you’re talking like that to [name]-san.”

“[name]—” Grum stuttered as you blinked, confused.

“Oh…!” Snick said, his voice sounding a little muffled.

“By the way, why are you all here?” you asked as Trey watched from behind. “This is far from the purple stage… or the lockers for the people involved in the competition.”

“Oh, yes, have you seen four other dwarves?” Dominic asked and Riddle shaked his head.

“I’m afraid not, would you like me to have the broadcast club page them?”

“I can help look,” you volunteered just before you felt a presence by your head that caused shivers up your spine.

“Oh, how ameowzing, to meet the talk of Royal Sword Academy~”

Grim purred quite loudly before exclaiming, “A floating severed head!”

“Che’nya…” you muttered as a hand went up to your forehead.

“Che’nya!?” the Heartslabyul prefect and vice exclaimed.

“Heh heh heh, is he a human? Is he a cat? He’s a mysterious and magical fellow,” the half-cat creature said with a grin. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker! Thaaat’s me!”

“Artemiy, have you seen the rest of the dwarves?” you asked before you remembered his words. “What do you mean I’m the talk of your school?”

“Surely you’ve known,” Dominic says, wanting to explain, but his friends were missing. “Long story short, the video. Che’nya could explain.”

“Oh no…” you muttered, wanting to hide your face from the world and you looked down to do just that, but you noticed your disarrayed tie. “Oh, Riddle, could you…?”

Your focus flew quickly as Chenya said, “If you’re on the purrowl for your friends, I saw ‘em go that way and around the corner.”

“Thanks a bunch, if you’ll excuse us, [name] and NIght Raven College students,” Dominic said as you waved, smiling as Riddle moved to fix your tie, and Dominic’s smile fell a little, so did the other dwarves.

“Is something wrong?” you muttered.

“See ya around!” Aritemy bid the dwarves on their way. “Furtionately, the video was taken down.”

“Nice to see you, Che’nya,” Riddle says, pausing on your tie first. “I appreciate you reaching out to me, and I apologize for neglecting to get back to you.”

“About the video…?” Trey asked.

“As Aritemy said, fortunately, I had it taken down by Ortho,” you said as Riddle finished up quickly on your tie and you paused, getting a little distracted. “Oh, I’m coquette.”

You didn’t mean it seriously. Che’nya continued, “Y’know NRC students got in a fight near our school? They were recorded and Neige dropped by to save them and it ended with Neige asking [name] on a da—”

“It was a misunderstanding,” you cut in before you felt like you were rude for doing so. “I’m sorry Aritemy, I don’t mean to be rude, but everyone—this is just justification at this point—but everyone has been calling it a date.”

“A date?” Trey asked as Riddle’s eyes only widened a little. “But you said the video was taken down? For your privacy, [name], that’s good news. And for us, mind if we catch up later instead?”

“Certainly! I’ll get outta your hair!”

“And Che’nya, don’t use your signature spell to spook any other visitors, okay?”

“No promises~”

“[name] doesn’t really stick out,” Grum muttered as he walked with the others to the dressing room, his hand being held by another dwarf to avoid getting lost. “They seem bland for Neige.”

“You met…?” a cheerful dwarf asked, eyes gleaming. “Oh! I wish I hadn’t gotten lost!”

“Grum, had it not been for [name]-san, we would’ve engaged in a fight,” Dominic said as he led the group of dwarves to the dressing room. “What Neige saw in [name]-san is not our business, and [name]-san is incredibly nice.”

“You saw [name]?”

“Oh, Neige!” Snick chimed before looking away to sneeze again, prompting Dominic to sigh and hand him a handkerchief. “They helped us earlier!”

“Do you remember where they were?” Neige asked, helping Snick wipe his nose but promptly pulled away to look outside the dressing room for [name]’s presence. “I…”

A dark feeling washed over him; it felt unfair for them to be able to see you first before he did when he arrived first to the dressing room, expecting you to be near Night Raven College’s side on the team.

It felt so unfair. He was the one who missed you the most, he thought. His rosy lips pressed on each other softly then he’d bite on a tiny part of his bottom lip as he looked for you outside the stage.

“Neige?” Dominic asked, concerned over his friend’s well-being.

Neige had been over the moon ever since he ‘saved’ you from those thugs even if you were with other people; he was a fan to the flames of rumors about him asking you on a date because he liked the thought of it.

The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were extremely supportive about it too.

There’s a few Night Raven College students nearby and they were talking, some of them looked happy to receive the attention of the reporters and some of them are getting nervous about it.

There’s a ginger who was a little nervous yet tried to make a rational decision, and the main of the team, Vil Schoeheit—Neige hasn’t met him in a while—but that must be your team, he could find you through them.

“[name]!” Neige chimed.

“Where!?”

The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were insanely curious.

“Neige…” the actor said as Neige cuts in the middle of the talk of their team with a smile and wave towards the members, but ultimately going to you.

“Oh, Neige,” you smiled politely, but you were not comfortable with him walking up to you and focusing on you, especially after that one viral video. “It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s been forever!” he smiled, more than you did, without a care in the world, unlike you. “I should’ve told you to wait for me in the gate, you haven’t been responding to me, you promised me your time—”

“So that’s Neige LeBlanche…” Ace muttered. “No wonder he’s a household name, even the way he walks and talks is perfectly choreographed.”

“He’s not giving off the intense aura Vil has…” Kalim whispers.

“His smile is entirely unlike Vil’s. It is unaffected, like a tiny flower blooming—it’s different! Oui! The cameras better take this in all angles! And first-name basis!?”

“Hmph, the more innocuous someone looks, the worse they’re likely to act behind the scenes,” Jamil huffs, crossing his arms. “That’s how entertainers are.”

“Do you have any room to talk there?” Grim whispered before he frowned when Neige took your hand. “I don’t like this! Why is he all up on [name]!?”

“Oooh, I mean ‘ya can’t expect Grim to know, he doesn’t really have a phone,” Epel says, sighing. “Or [name] limits you to screentime?”

“—I missed you!” Neige exclaims after the long speech about what he should’ve said and done so you and him would meet sooner. “While we’re here we should have others take our picture—”

“Excuse me, Night Raven College entrants! It’s time for your rehearsal. Please stand by!”

“I really… really appreciate your words, Neige,” you whisper, not wanting anyone to know what you were telling him. “It’s quite hard to miss you when you occupy my mind a lot, you know?”

You wanted to let him down a little, and not tell him he occupied most of your time during practice due to his constant texts, that you couldn’t say to tone it down, and as for your lack of responses, it was because you put it on silent mode for Riddle and Trey.

Neige froze and your arm flinched ever so slightly when his grip on your hand tightened. He stuttered, “Me—me too! To you…!”

“If you’ll excuse our manager, Neige,” Vil cuts in and places a hand on your shoulder, gently. “We need them for the rehearsal.”

“Oh, right, sorry, Neige,” you say, embarrassed since you took a bit too long in trying to shoo Neige away for the rehearsal. “Perhaps later.”

“Later—okay!” the artist accepted it so quickly and he nodded. “I’m looking forward to your performance!”

The first years were confident, but you, Vil, and possibly Rook would know that the team had been outplayed by the performance of Royal Sword Academy, whose performance was not in synchronized.

It was a different type of charisma, and you didn’t wish that Neige would lose but you didn’t want your team to lose either, especially not when Vil’s sanity thread was thinning.

“Vil…?” you whispered as you walked with the model, trying to catch up, but scared to hold his arm. “Vil.”

It’s not that you and him were strangers, it was just that his vibe felt different—unapproachable—and you wanted to know why without further triggering the seemingly trance he was in.

Vil paused in front of someone’s dressing room, but turned to you, who was confused. To him, he was confused about you, he discreetly confided in you, and he knew you picked up on the depth of his dislike towards Neige but you still got involved with him.

“You should go back,” he said, a bottle of juice in his hand and you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong with the bottle he was holding.

“Of course, but…” you said, trying to make up with an excuse on the spot without telling Vil straight up that you felt like you currently couldn’t trust him to be alone. “Neige was kind of… calling me over.”

It was a lie. Neige did want to talk to you, but there’s no specified date and time.

Your heart pounded as Vil right now felt dangerous for you, every bit of him felt off for you, and it wasn’t the same as when you found him intimidating when you two first met and started talking.

“I see, so you’re with Neige too,” the actor muttered and now you tried to get close, but the door to the dressing room opened on its own and you paused.

“Oh, Vi,” Neige’s head peeked out of the door, his gaze going to Vil and then to you, his eyes brightened visibly, much to Vil’s dismay. “Oh! [name]-san…! It’s good to see you again—do you want to come in?”

“Ah…” you muttered and you smiled a little, albeit awkwardly as you glanced at Vil to check and then at the ominous bottle. “Of cour—”

“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk before rehearsals,” Vil cuts in and you swore you saw Neige flinch back a little when the actor covered your frame. “I was hoping we might chat a bit more.”

“Oh, of course,” Neige said as he stepped out of the dressing room. “I was thinking the same thing, why don’t you two come in—”

“Vil, the rest might be looking for us,” you said, hoping to convince Vil to drop what he might be planning as you gently pinched his sleeve, not wanting to cause a fold. “Even if there’s time—”

As soon as you touched Vil’s sleeve, Neige’s hand clasped around your wrist, and he didn’t seem to mind, he just smiled at you, adding up to your burdens since you felt like something was awfully wrong and Neige wasn’t helping.

“It’s okay! You can stay,” Neige said, trying to convince you and Vil, but mostly Vil since you seem to be following the actor around. “Dominic and the others aren’t around, they can’t really sit still so they’re at the booths. We have a lot of time to talk and I… I have something for you.”

You did not know what to say, because you needed to get Vil away from Neige as soon as you could, not only for Neige’s safety, but also for Vil; you can’t wreck your brain how else you could take Vil away when Neige was clinging.

It was not that you didn’t appreciate that the artist was so open to your presence and would always make you feel welcomed, but the situation was quite dire and having Vil approach Neige right after their performance felt so wrong.

“Speaking of something, I have something for you, Neige,” Vil says, holding you by the other arm causing you to look at Vil with concern. “I brought you some apple juice. I’ve been quite taken with this brand recently.”

“Oh! The one you posted about in Magicam!” Neige says, but his eyes were quick to look at the bottle since his eyes immediately went down on Vil’s hand on your arm. “I’ve been waiting to try it… thank you.”

“I—I’ll hold it,” you cut in but you can’t take the bottle when Neige’s hand is tightly on your arm and Vil has the other. “Since Neige and I will talk anyways…”

You looked over at Neige, hoping he would catch on your words and take you away; the glint in his eyes told you he did and the way he moved to wrap his hands on your arm seemed like he was going to take you away.

You were so wrong. He took the bottle and said, “Ah! Yes, we’re going to talk! Are you thirsty, [name]? Do you mind if we share the drink?”

All that was on Neige’s mind was an indirect kiss that happened in movies that he starred in, long filmings that he was in, and he was not the main character of those movies, but he watched people do it.

He watched people get giddy over it and didn’t understand it until now. He wanted to have your lips on his even if it comes from items, even better if it came directly from the source: you.

Your face nearly displayed a horrified expression upon his words, because his words meant you’d have to drink it first and the drink was the item you were most suspicious about.

“I…” you gulped.

You didn’t want Vil to find out you might’ve caught up to what he might be doing, and you didn’t want Neige to know what Vil was doing, because as far as you know they both knew each other and Neige genuinely liked Vil.

This was what you get for looking at both sides. You became the sacrifice and you didn’t know if you minded or not, because you cared less about what happened to you, more on the consequences.

“Should I drink first?” Neige asked. “But I…”

To Neige’s point of view, if he drinks first, you might avoid the place where he drank at and he would miss the opportunity to drink again if you chug the entire drink, he’s not sure if you would or wouldn’t, but he didn’t want to miss the chance.

You took too long and Vil might get suspicious. You grabbed the uncapped drink, much to Vil’s surprise that he released your hand as you said, “No, it’s okay, I can take it first…”

When you saw Vil surprised, it was the validation you needed that your instincts were correct and that something was wrong.

There were small traces of mist coming out; if it were a cold drink, you’d assume it was from the coldness, but the drink was quite lukewarm.

You’ve witnessed Vil’s unique magic, you learned that he can put any rules or conditions that he can’t even reverse, and you weren’t sure what the condition of the drink was, but there you were, placing the rim on your bottom lip.

“Henchman!”

Grim suddenly jumped on your arm and caused the bottle to fall down because you didn’t want to drink it in the first place, and at the same time, you see Rook and Kalim on their way.

You held Grim properly in your arms before you grabbed Neige by the arm, wrapping your arm over his and then you led him away so he wouldn’t see the drink bubbling on the ground.

Your heart was at your ears, you can’t let Neige find out about Vil, because if it goes public, Vil’s reputation would die—you felt incredibly stressed and Grim was stimulating you more by shoving his paws on your chin and asking what was going on.

It was such a huge difference compared to Neige, who happily clung to your arm with his head on your shoulders, speechless by how you apparently ‘whisked’ him away like that, and you only snapped out of your trance when Jamil waved you over.

“Excuse me, you’re Neige LeBlanche, yes?” Jamil asked and Neige was even hesitant to open his eyes to look at him because he was comfortable on your shoulder. “I’m such a huge fan! I can’t believe I met you in person—and [name]... is this your… lover?”

Your jaw dropped at Jamil’s words as Grim exclaimed, “MYAH—”

“Oh! It’s not like that, but I appreciate your—”

Neige only wanted to look Jamil in the eyes in order to memorize his features since he was a Night Raven College student and seemingly your friend, but he was easily hypnotized by Jamil and you rubbed your forehead.

“Thanks for the save,” you whispered. “I’ll gaslight him later.”

A lot of things happened and Neige still couldn’t even read the room, you hesitate, wondering if it was right to keep such a person on your side, even Kalim could read the room better than Neige could.

You let out a breath as Jamil ordered Neige to sing and dance away from the entire coliseum; you have no idea where Neige would go, but hopefully, it would be far away from the purple stage—and you hoped he would leave quickly since the skies started to darken as a symbol Vil was overblotting.

When others waited for Vil to wake up, you had to sit and try not to think too much because of the constant happenings all within one hour; it didn’t feel right to blame Neige.

It didn’t feel right to blame Neige for the castings of the movies, and that he was always chosen as a hero when Vil was always chosen as a villain and was compared to how Neige presents himself.

You couldn’t help but think that Neige was ignorant, and at the same time, you also thought about the possibilities Neige went through as a person and artist with all that ignorance and naivety.

And what’s up with Neige? He has no danger sensors, but Vil was a good actor so it could be quite impossible to know he had malicious intentions and you only knew because you were with him before the incident.

“Should I be happy I got you thinking?” Vil asked. “Did you know what the condition was?”

He was being supported by Rook and the other dancers were trying to figure out how to fix the colosseum; Vil was not exactly happy, he remembered the way the drink’s rim was in your mouth and had it not been for Grim, who knew what could happen to you?

You shake your head and that didn’t make Vil feel any better—not that he ever will be since you still nearly drank it.

“I thought it was fine,” you muttered, sighing. “Rook would’ve done the same.”

“You would?”

“Oui, I would want to believe in you, the you who strives harder and reaches for greater heights than any other. I don’t want you to besmirch yourself by doing anything foolish.”

“I just happen to feel the same,” you muttered, even though you hesitated. “I don’t want your reputation to be ruined, Vil. I’ll carry your poison to my grave.”

“You’ve barely been here for a year,” Vil said and you’re reminded by your supposed home in a world different from where you currently sat. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself.”

“I would, if it helps,” you laughed a little, unable to handle the serious moment, especially when the tension was crushing you a little. “I’d forgive you, Vil, I really… believe you are a kind person.”

In a moment of vulnerability, Vil’s chest clenched; he didn’t know you well, only knowing you from a few lessons in class because of you being a third year, but you do catch his attention on a few occasions.

Occasions such as you being knowledgeable in skin care, or the you that one time offered to give his face a massage while he stayed at Ramshackles; occasions that send his heart fluttering.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” a horned person stood nearby and you looked over. “I thought I’d arrive a bit early, and what do I find but a stage laid to waste?”

“Oh, Hornton…” you muttered, a little embarrassed like you’ve been caught even if you had done nothing but bare your feelings to both Rook and Vil. “There’s still two hours before the competition opens.”

“Hornton…!?”

“Oh, hey! So you’re the Hornton guy that wanders around Ramsheckle’s gardens late at night,” Grim said, earning the attention of the first and second years as if the third years weren’t already surprised by you. “I heard about you from [name], you really do have horns growin’ outta your head! Myah hah hah—MRAH!”

“Grim, are you nuts!?” Deuce whispered his hiss as he held Grim to his chest with a hand on his mouth. “Y-you can’t just talk to an upperclassman that way!”

“Roi des Dragons, how did you get into the coliseum?” Rook asked, earning a huff from the person.

“I was invited, by the child of man living in Ramshackle Dorm. I have my invitation right here.”

“I don’t think it’s that…” you said as you got up and dusted your bum. “The venue still has that mist, but for some reason you’re unscathed? Isn’t it the poison mist from Vil’s unique magic?”

“I suppose there was some sort of cantrip up when I came in,” the man said. “But no curse, no matter how powerful, will work on me.”

“I see you’ve taken advantage of [name]’s ignorance,” Vil said as he huffed.” Malleus Draconia.”

“Oh dang…” you muttered, remembering the times you heard his name but never saw him during the Spelldrive tournament because of the flying disk that went to your head.

THIS IS HEIZNX, DAMN I LOST MY CHANCE TO PUT MANIPULATIVE NEIGE AGAJFJFHJFG BECAUSE VDC TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG. but anyways… i’m not too proud of it but i want to just post whatever i write since i have no job and i’m waiting for college to start. Original title was pretty please and it inspired me so bad but goddamn :((

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst neige #neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere neige #yandere neige leblanche

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heiznx · 2 years ago

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HELLO, I CHOSE TO STAY.

Yes, it was a difficult decision at first, but after reading the—wait, I'll highlight it so I'll be able to say which part actually made me think staying would be better.

The text was: Then the way to go home to the original world presents itself. And, and the original Malleus is alive and well with zero clue that Yuu was isekaid, because in that world not even a single hour has passed since they disappeared.

The yellow text is the highlight part that sealed the decision for me because I want the drama and all that. It'd be painful to know that the original Malleus wouldn't even know that Yuu left, and there would be no reunion which I like.

I'm more into the other character being in pain and such other than Yuu being the one in any sort of pain. I prefer the drama where Yuu would get hurt and saving part and all that kind, and we get to see the partner's reaction all in anguish because those parts show that the partner truly cares for Yuu, those kind of stories.

Yuu would arrive, either happy to see the original Malleus they know or be shaken up to be back, because they are almost the same person but the other one is just not a fae and Malleus (TWST) doesn't know Yuu as much as Yuu does.

Nothing, I just—like—feel like the going home is a good decision for Yuu as well, because they get to go back to someone who they already loved in the first life.

If it were me, I think I'll be choosing where I'm most comfortable in and where things are more interesting, since we don't have magic in the real world and such.

GOING HOME would be going back to the comfortable like Yuu once knew, but if Yuu acknowledged that the Malleus they knew before and the Malleus they know now are the same, the decision they'd have to make is to choose between the memories they have.

Even if both the Malleus' are the same, it'd be hard to make a decision because no matter what you say or what you did with Original Malleus, the Malleus now wouldn't reply the same because of the setting or because of the tiniest detail he notices about Yuu.

Imagine if Malleus and Yuu now used magic to fly on a broom or dragon form, it's something that Yuu wouldn't be able to do with the Original Malleus because the two settings are different.

For personal reasons, the Twisted Wonderland place would be a most intriguing place for me which is why I chose to stay.

In my opinion, or for self-indulgent stuff, if the original Malleus and the current Malleus' personality is still the same, the only problem would be letting go or accepting one's memories with the Original Malleus.

if the Malleus now acts the same as the one I knew before, then the only difference is the fact that magic exists and that he has a different form which I'm open to accept. I want the thrill and fun.

Random plot thought

What is Yuu gets isekaid into Twisted Wonderland as usual, meet Malleus as usual, then they scream "What are you doing here?! And what's with the weird horns? Are you cosplaying? Why?" But he just blinks at them in confusion and asks if they've met before.

Then Yuu's shaken and can't really process that their boyfriend is also in this world, but doesn't remember them and is apparently a different person.

Then as time goes on, they get to know him and the two Malleuses are literally the same person except for the horns. That's when they come to a conclusion that this must be the afterlife, and they're probably both dead, and finally lets themselves fall in love all over again.

Then the way to go home to the original world presents itself. And, and the original Malleus is alive and well with zero clue that Yuu was isekaid, because in that world not even a single hour has passed since they disappeared.

Who will Yuu pick? The guy who they spent years loving so tenderly, or this guy who, despite not knowing him as long as the other, they joined in many a tribulation and loved so truly in his most vulnerable of moments? 🤔

#heiznx. hehehe.

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heiznx · 2 years ago

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YAN! NEIGE: PRINCESS ARRIVAL

∗༝*◦✦ headcanons

BEFORE READING, this includes the writer's perception towards neige, mentions of murder, slight obsessive behavior and all that goes with it.

|| START▶ ||︎

Neige won't notice your discomfort towards him, but he can notice if you are uncomfortable with someone else's presence.

He's the type of person who would fall in love at first sight or be incredibly infatuated with someone.

He could either be incredibly flustered yet calm at the same time or be all sunshine and butterflies while thinking of murder.

Neige can bear liking towards many but is loyal.

He can fall for anyone, but if that someone doesn't shake him off, he'll think that they're the one.

He holds no grudge against the person he likes if they're blunt with him, telling him that they don't like him that way or that they just don't like him in general. He just thinks that they're not the one.

His darling is in danger if they act polite despite disliking Neige because Neige will never get the hint!

It won't matter much if the person he likes uses him for money, even if he feels like something is wrong with their relationship.

However, if he meets someone nice enough to raise awareness that that's not how relationships are supposed to go, he will leave his current one for someone else.

If he realizes that he's liking someone other than his current darling, he's going to make a scene over it and have crisis, the nice person would have to help him out until he decides he's going to choose them over the gold-digger.

Neige is nice for someone obsessive.

Yet he's insanely and unintentionally manipulative.

He can be really clingy.

He can cry at will to guilt-trip you.

And he cries too if he's really hurt by your actions.

An ideal person would be...

Someone who is clueless about his moves and someone who is really polite despite being uncomfortable with him.

He'd like anyone who makes time for him and is doting.

Someone who relies on him for a considerate amount or when they're in danger, but at the same time, he also wants to be the one in distress.

He'll also pursue someone who doesn't know how to refuse.

He likes you even if you're a bit blunt, like when it comes to fashion or when you try to warn him about people taking advantage of him because he thinks you do it because you care.

THIS IS HEIZNX, i think he's a famous model—mostly actor, it was seen on book 5 that he is sponsoring something and vil mentioned how he is always a villain and that neige is always portrayed like a heroine. i can assume that he's naive and an airhead—maybe highkey sensitive as well. i don't know how models work but he is so clueless about what vil felt during book 5 and the time they spent together during elementary. (there are all written in my notebook since october 19, 2022 but im posting old notes because i want to remove the bookmarks)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst neige #neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere neige #yandere neige leblanche

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heiznx · 2 years ago

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STAINED HANDS — II

∗༝*◦✦ as if staining his hands with red liquid wasn't enough, kuniuzushi plans to avenge you.

BEFORE READING, this is confusing, has modern swearing, mentions of illness, fantasized images of nobilty, delusional moments, disturbing details, and death.

|| ◀︎BACK || REWRITTEN || DEAR KUNI ||

At that point, Kunikuzushi couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not.

His breathing was shallow as he faced the ceiling of the home he built with you, and his head pounded, feeling disoriented and not remembering what he had dreamed of that caused him such emotions.

He felt as though his throat was parched and his eyes stung—irritated, as if they needed to be wiped in order to be relieved.

For some reason, he felt suffocated, but hasn't he always felt that way? Ever since the day he realized that your time was shorter than his, that he was losing you, and he couldn't do anything about it other than try to extend it just a tiny little bit?

Your time will never be longer than his—now that he thought of you, Kunikuzushi wondered where you were.

The thought of you was suffocating him oh-so-little, but he had to find you, the one to cause him pain and solace.

Where even are you?

He hasn't seen you since he started recalling everything and being sentimental; he can feel his heart race at the possibility that you passed out somewhere around the house, so he gets up quickly.

The house was as empty as his stomach. You two take turns cooking, but ever since that day, he's been handling most of it, and he supervises you, which made you hit him with a pan on the head before.

Seeing you dozing off on the couch so motionless made him stop on his tracks; he felt relieved just to see you.

He sighs and sits on the armrest of the couch, which you scolded him about before since the couch was big for the two of you, but right now, you were taking up all the space—you with your height and white gown.

"Why the heck are you on the couch?" Kunikuzushi mutters as he brushes his fingertips on your cheekbone and up to your temple to brush the stray hair aside.

The feeling of your skin and the way your hair moved were weird; since when did you dye your hair a different shade of [color]? It looked lighter than usual; he even remembers the way it glistens under the sun and the moon.

Are you holding your breath like he is right now? If you are, why?

Your face didn't have the oily skin or the small red patches that you were insecure about, and even the small mole you had was gone.

Those facts were alarming, which was why he got off the armrest to kneel by your side on the couch to see you better than where he was sitting earlier.

"[name]," he whispers, his voice laced with the tint of fear as his fingers glide over the gown you wore to find the ticklish points you used to have.

You knew he was sensitive to this subject, yet you chose to prank him about it, and he felt a bit of anger towards you because of it.

Kunikuzushi looked for the ticklish points you used to have; he knew that you'd wake up if he either pressed too hard on the spot or if he did find the right spot.

Were you that sort of person to pretend to be so still and motionless to the point of not breathing?

You're odd: your skin, your form of lying, and the way you refused to breathe, but you've always been odd because you loved and you loved—and you just loved him and his flaws—and what you took from him, you returned it all ten times more.

You were never this still, as you were so full of life, like when you waved at him when you two were on the other side of the street—like when your teeth showed as you smiled upon the success of buying an item you waited for months for because it was only out during festivals—like in his dream.

Now, when did that happen? What dream?

What festival? You two haven't even gone to the festival. Kunikuzushi felt like he was losing a part of himself whenever he started to remember memories that never existed.

"You're being too much now," his voice cracked unintentionally, making sure to project as much emotion as he could so you'd understand that your prank was going too far.

You were so aware of his well-being and his mental state that you'd know when you crossed the line; if his tone were ever akin to begging, you crossed the line, and you couldn't resist wrapping him in your arms and comforting him.

"Joke's over, you still have to take your medicine."

Even if you didn't promise forever, you promised you'd try—something he believed in because Kunkuzushi saw you and knew that you truly were trying to extend your time.

He waited for any reaction from you, whether it'd be you stifling your laughter, your lips thinning, or waking up and apologizing—at this rate, he'd take anything just to hear you breathe.

He wraps an arm around your nape and another around your waist to gently pull you up and make you sit up—now, he only felt the lines for the first time—lines that ran on your nape and up.

Your back leaned on the couch, and your head was still, so it was tilted upwards and leaning on the back rest, so your hair was exposing the lines that he felt earlier.

The truth was already in the back of his mind, but he wasn't like you, who faced and accepted the pressure and the reality.

Your nape and up had stitches, and your skin felt like actual silk.

He couldn't breathe as he took note of the lightness of your body—he couldn't take it; he wasn't like you; he couldn't be able to accept a fact like this like you could.

Kunikuzushi wasn't ready to face the truth; both his hands moved to rest on your hips as he buried his face on your stomach.

Your gown—it wasn't the nightgown he bought for you at the same price as nobles do just so you could rest comfortably in silk—no, it was the gown of one who died and is about to be placed on a casket.

He can't tell what he was thinking; his mind goes into one thought, then another at the same time, and then another.

You're a liar, and he was delusional—his mind—thoughts—begged for you to cut off the entire joke you were still continuing for the past ten minutes.

How could you remain so serious while he is there—touching all he can of you with his head on your chest, uncaring if your body was nearly falling off the couch by the way he drags you down to the floor with your legs on the sides of his body?

Your husband craves your heart.

Was this the compensation of the noble who ran over you with their carriage in a hurry?

The memory of the festival that happened hours earlier, one he deluded to be a nightmare, the memory of how loudly he yelled after seeing your body trampled on and how surprised you were before everything just faded.

The love you continuously gave him was gone, taken by something that wasn't even related to the illness that was slowly eating away your life.

How twisted are they to compensate him by dressing you in silk and a gown? To patch up the face of his spouse and didn't even put the tiniest details you had—how half-assed—how dare they even touch you?

Kunikuzushi cried, but he promises it would be the last.

The gods are playing a joke with him because the same driver and the same noble arrived at the front of his house specifically after a week of when your funeral was held.

His blood boiled quick at the sight of them, but after hearing that she was around the festival area on that day because they were searching for him, he almost lost it.

Kunikuzushi can't help but laugh as though he were unhinged, and he laughed even if the noble looked at him oddly and strictly—or if tears were stinging his eyes—because he indirectly caused your death.

In terms of political standing, you dislike the way the noble in front of him ruled her kingdom—the woman who bore the same features as Kunikuzushi and the woman he remembered from when he was abandoned in the street.

Kunikuzushi must be cursed.

The woman was asking for her son's assistance in leading the kingdom as she'd be recuperating—she did directly apologize to him, but in his eyes, what would this woman know?

She took the solace he had, the serenity that made the house a home, and taught him to see things from different perspectives.

What would his mother know? What would Ei know about what she so easily discarded after her so-called compensation?

You'd hate him if you knew what he was thinking—no, you wouldn't—because you'd attempt to talk him out of it, but right now, how would you?

How would you be able to talk Kunikuzushi out of his plans to use this as an opportunity to act on his revenge? To act on everything you taught him that you told him not to?

This was the opportunity to ruin everything this noble had—the noble woman who robbed him of the comfort of a childhood and robbed him of the comfort when he thought it would remain.

THIS IS HEIZNX, kinda just wrote this in school while thinking of the necro's bride. I HAVE NOTHING MORE TO SAY.......

#genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #heiznx. stained hands

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heiznx · 2 years ago

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RELY ON YOUR MEMORIES.

BASICALLY BRAINROT. a self-aware genshin au (note) long, not accurate lore spoilers, celestia is painted to be bad, archon war mentions and all that goes with it

Twice the Grace was the first title idea because this will include two Divine Creators in the story, and the second one was Rely on Your Memories since I thought to mix in an imposter au, which is liked but is said to be too cliche.

Basically, there was the Creator who died, but then another that looked like them appeared a millennium later, and then another one appeared after the another millennium (arrival of the traveler).

BASICALLY MC, who is in earth, is downloading Genshin Impact and that made the puppet slowly gain their own understanding and soul different from the Creator, who they were supposed to act as.

MC controls the puppet upon first arrival, which was five years before Genshin Impact actually started; they saved Crepus and earned the devotion of the Harbingers, who served the Tsaritsa in hopes they'd meet you again.

In the puppet's free time, they studied about MC and learned to like what they've done for Teyvat.When the Traveler arrived, MC controls the traveler and never the puppet again, but the traveler had the same feeling MC emits when they posses the puppet.

When the puppet tries to separate the soul of MC from the traveler, they failed and it was because MC lacks knowledge about the entire of Teyvat, so the puppet manipulated the commissions and triggers meetings for MC.

After that, the puppet brought MC to Teyvat and all that.

THE CREATOR'S PROFILE The Creator was friends with every God, as they are held in high regard and are respected, but they hold the Gods of the seven nations closer.

They helped shape Teyvat with Celestia, but once the ground was made, Celestia left for the Northeast, which would soon be called Mondstadt.

They guarded Teyvat and manipulated its people in order to avoid troubles and wars, but they were unable to do the same many years after as they started losing their abilities hence unable to provide which made Gods mistrust them.

THE CREATOR'S DEATH The Creator soon died after their magic had started failing them, and when they once tried to stop Decarabian from trying to gain control over Mondstadt, they died since they had gotten too weak.

Their body was preserved in Mondstadt, but after a while, Decarabian took them because they were being cherished more than he was.

Despite the Gods of the (soon-to-be) Nations feeling the oddity as though something died, it took them a while to actually find out that the Creator died because Decarabian never let the people of Mondstadt, who were the witnesses, out.

RELATIONSHIP WITH CELESTIA It was pretty bad. Before their death, Celestia left all the work to the Creator and even drained their magic when everything was too peaceful for their liking, even after the Creator's death, their body remained on Teyvat.

Other than that information, the rest were unknown, and they left those, who knew that they were left in Teyvat, to judge Celestia.

RELATIONSHIP WITH THE WISP OF WIND They got attached to it after it started following them around a lot, solely because it was fixated on their noble soul. It wasn't afraid to mess around with them as if they weren't the Creator.

RELATIONSHIP WITH REX LAPIS The Creator first met him after Celestia appointed him as a God, and they were curious why Morax was allowed to be up there while they couldn't. Morax was the first to like them for simply being who they are and not because of their title.

According to the Cloud Retainer and Guizhong, he was one that would seek them despite not being called on.

RELATIONSHIP WITH THE RAIDEN SHOGUN Neutral, they share almost the same perspective of the world, but they were not able to befriend her as much as she does with Morax because Makoto had her own group of friends.

RELATIONSHIP WITH GREATER LORD RUKKHADEVATA They exchange knowledge, and she was the one to invite herself in on multiple occasions because she knows how lonely the Creator must be; she said this herself.

RELATIONSHIP WITH THE GOD OF JUSTICE ...

RELATIONSHIP WITH THE GOD OF WAR ...

RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CRYO ARCHON ...

The Creator was in Celestia when they were sent down to shape Teyvat, but was abandoned at the northwest, which they first treated like home, because it was their first creation.

Creating Teyvat took them so long that they had forgotten their name, so when Celestia started appointing the Gods, they couldn't even introduce themself properly to Rex Lapis even though they approached him to know what Celestia told him.

They wanted to know what Celestia wanted them to do, but when Rex Lapis only mentioned that people were only appointed as Gods, they were disheartened; he did not know they were the Creator until later on.

Funnily enough, it was also the Creator who bestowed the names Makoto and Ei on the twins because they wanted them to have a mortal name that they could use, since the Creator couldn't even shift their appearance.

The Creator had the ability to receive visions when Teyvat was in danger or if it was reaching the point of a potential war incoming, so they manipulated many dreams, moods, and memories in order to avoid wars; they were also able to provide many things for people to be satisfied.

So when a wisp of wind soon arrived, the Creator knew immediately that the wisp of wind was dangerous to them because they felt their magic being taken slowly; it became clear to them that Celestia did not like how things were peaceful.

The wisp of wind was slowly draining their magic so the Creator tried to avoid it at first, but the wisp of wind was attracted to their noble soul and began following them around.

It was supposed to be fixated, since the Creator was someone that it needed to drain their magic from, but the wisp truly did adore them, and it acts like a human, only unable to speak and having a human body; it never knew its presence was draining their magic.

The Creator could never find it in themself to kill the lifeform that they had gotten close to, no matter the cost, because it was their friend and their only travel companion until it decided to reside in Mondstadt.

The visions they see began coming less frequently, or sometimes late, since the wisp of wind continues to drain their magic. They relied on the representatives (soon-to-be Archons) of each nation to do their job properly and inform them of the happenings in their Nation.

The Creator called on the wisp of wind and Rex Lapis, whom they now call Morax, at the same time so they could ask what was happening in their nations.

Wine and tea were present, as was sand, where the Creator told the wisp of wind to write what was going on in Mondstadt; it wrote something akin to the nation being cold, and Morax told the Creator that Decarabian went to Mondstadt and that some Gods were starting to act by themselves.

It was when they were about to give the wisp of wind a name that they suddenly had a vision of a future where they saw the wisp of wind drinking with Morax — a vision where they weren't there.

As an extreme drawback of seeing that far, one of the irises of the Creator's eyes faded, and their sense of sight in the same eye blurred.

Morax noticed this and fretted over the Creator, who played it off before asking if they can grace Morax a mortal name too for being concerned for their well-being.

Morax was given the mortal name Zhongli, while the wisp of wind was given two names: the first was Barbatos, and the other was Venti, which the Creator said they liked better.

After the meeting was over, the Creator marched to Mondstadt the day after to challenge Decarabian but failed, resulting their death by his hands.

The Creator wished for a life where they, too, could live like a mortal.

People of Mondstadt thought the Creator favored the nation and decided to preserve their being, but Decarabian soon grew jealous of how people loved the Creator more than they do with him and hid their body.

Since Decarabian forbade the people of Mondstadt to go out, the news of the Creator's death was too late to be heard by the others; by the time their death was announced, the Archon War was about to start.

ARCHON WAR This is where Celestia had appointed the Seven Archons, and when the wisp of wind gained a body, he now goes by the Archon name Barbatos but also lives as a mortal named Venti.

Ones who died during the Archon War canonly, also died in this alternative universe.

Celestia did not want to deal with cleaning up the messes from the war, so they made a puppet or an artificial person with the appearance of the Creator (so no one would suspect it) and sent it down; Celestia has control over it and no one knew it wasn't the Creator.

It was not intentional, but the puppet began developing its own soul. They have the memories of the Creator and are supposed to act like them, but there are a few mistakes due to their different perspectives of the world.

The puppet dismissed or did not have time for the friends the Creator held close because it was rushing to finish cleaning up the spoils of the Archon War.

THE CATACLYSM The puppet can't even finish the cleaning up when the cataclysm was started to start and Durin, the dragon, started behaving strangely.

With the memories of the Creator, it cannot bring itself to follow Celestia's orders. It attempted to help before things worsened but was forced to go to sleep by Celestia.

Barbatos was the one to find their passed-out state, thinking that they were overworked. He brought their body to the cathedral and was the one to notice that the puppet seemed dead rather than asleep.

He called the healers before helping with Durin's situation with the help of Dvalin. Barbatos feared another loss or the possibility of the Creator (the puppet) dying once more, but he couldn't find out anything because he slept after exhausting himself.

Ei started to dislike the Creator (aka the puppet) because she didn't know that they were also out during the entire Cataclysm, and she thought the Creator had let Makoto die; the abyss twin and Dainslief felt the same since Khaenri'ah was destroyed and its citizens turned into mounters.

Morax questioned the Creator's (puppet) disappearance during the Cataclysm, only to find out their current state, which was that they were in a coma, but he did not feel anything because he didn't feel what the Creator made him feel before they died.

TIME DILATION During the puppet's coma, they started to gain control of themself a bit due to the Creator, and now the MC (who has the creator's soul) downloading the game.

The puppet woke up feeling like a different person but still had the Creator's memories; they woke up five years before Genshin Impact originally started, and in MC's view, the game was only getting installed.

Hours to MC was a year in Teyvat. The puppet spent a year looking into the Creator's deeds through books written by them or from the words of people, and the puppet grew to like the Creator.

Since this was five years prior to the original start of Genshin Impact and the twin was not there, MC unintentionally controlled the puppet, who blacked out, and they also accidentally saved Crepus.

MC got confused about why their game started that way and their character carried Crepus all the way to the cathedral before logging off, making the puppet's consciousness return, and was confused too.

Diluc and Kaeya were already fighting, and Kaeya got his vision when the puppet went to inform the two about their father being alive, making the two feel indebted towards the Creator (MC or the puppet).

Whenever the puppet blacks out, it means that MC logs in. They wake up to hear good things happening, which makes the puppet less wary of their blackouts.

One time, the puppet kept their consciousness on and was able to see what MC was doing and sense MC themself and their noble soul, but couldn't point out who exactly they were.

Whenever the puppet isn't busy with the affairs of handing Teyvat, they go around to learn more about the Creator or the situation (blackouts and all).

The puppet, using the Creator's memories, slowly started approaching Morax to ask him about the Creator, but it took the puppet a while to figure out who Venti was because he was no longer a wisp.

When MC is around, the puppet tries to keep their consciousness open, and the puppet can sense what MC feels, mostly the love and fondness they have for the people of Teyvat.

MC was most curious about Shenzhnaya though, so when they logged in, they teleported there despite it not being open in the original Genshin Impact (yet); they helped people and unintentionally changed the timeline.

They once helped Pantalone in the early game and gave him a place to stay and mora in Mondstadt, then continued to accidentally meet the other future harbingers until they also started feeling in debt to the Creator.

The soon-to-be harbingers have no contact and have joined the Fatui in hopes that the Creator has contact with the Tsaritsa.

TRAVELER'S ARRIVAL The puppet instantly felt the similarity of the traveler's aura with the one that controls them; the puppet was still unaware that the one controlling them is MC or the one that has the Creator's soul.

The puppet wants to meet MC, so they tried to summon them by trying to separate the part of MC's soul from the traveler's so the puppet could put the small part of MC's soul in a different body, but couldn't due to MC's lack of exploration in Genshin Impact.

It was rejecting moving the MC's (the creator's) soul because they are new to the game and don't know the history of Teyvat or even about the Creator (themself).

MC IS THE CREATOR The part of the Creator's noble soul on the traveler lets them open the Statue of the Seven(s), and Venti made a comment about how the traveler's being feels familiar, which made everything click for the puppet.

Since the puppet has the Creator's soul, they also have knowledge about their Creator's only wish, which was to live a mortal life.

The puppet realized the Creator's wish almost came true because they died and was reborn on a different world, which was why their soul was not with Celestie and why the puppet had their own soul instead of just using the Creator's when they died.

The puppet started manipulating the commissions to get the traveler's (MC) exploration up, and they trigger meetings, mostly with the immortal ones, that bring up the Creator's past deeds so MC can learn about their old life.

The puppet also interacts with MC in the game by sending mail, under the example that it was sent by HoYoverse and that it had a big reward with a 'must answer/reply to' opinionated letters. They also add some more trivia about the Creator and the Nations, MC basically knows more than the traveler at this point.

THE JOURNEY STARTS The puppet prepares the ritual-like things that include the Creator's body that was preserved before, and when MC has enough exploration, they are sucked into the screen and to Teyvat.

Paimon sees a see-through (presumably soul) separating from the Traveler before MC gains the Creator's body, and then Paimon yells that MC looks familiar to the Creator (puppet).

MC decides what to do next.

(from me) honestly i planned for MC to go around and meeting the characters by nation but the knowledge i have for the nations is limited that i dropped the entire idea i just typed above. in the end, MC finds out that they're basically the divine creator and talks to the puppet, who was willing to give the place to MC, who says that they don't want it and decides to live like a mortal, but would help the puppet if they need it. the puppet likes work.

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #heiznx. brainrots #heiznx. genshin impact

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heiznx · 2 years ago

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your recent scara fanfic is so good 😭😭 by any chance, do you think you can ever make a part two of where the reader actually dies?? (im evil i know, but i need angst to live)

ACTUALLY IM HESITANT BC IM NOT SURE HOW IT'LL GO IM AFRAID IT MIGHT BE TOO OOC, near the ending of stained hands HE WENT OOC AND I HAD TO PAUSE WRITING IT FOR A DAY.

IM LEANING TOWARDS PERHAPS NOT EVEN THOUGH I RLLY LIVE FOR ANGST TOO

#heiznx. hehehe.#heiznx. asks

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heiznx · 2 years ago

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STAINED HANDS — I

∗༝*◦✦ see how far he would go for you, who he cherishes.

BEFORE READING, this contains long, modern swearing, illness mentions, fantasized images of nobility, and implied murder.

|| NEXT▶ ||︎ REWRITTEN || DEAR KUNI ||

Kunikuzushi wasn't born luxurious; the moment he learned of his situation was when he was young and when he had been abandoned in a small town by a golden carriage.

Everyone that were nearby knew that Kunikuzushi wasn't the nicest and that there were rumors of him being a mercenary with a hidden identity, or worse, an assassin.

He only met you by chance. You weren't the brightest, nor were you dim; you were just right, and he was terrified of that.

His reputation precedes him, and he made sure you knew what you were getting into before he got serious with you, made sure you discovered him bloody, and made sure that whatever happens to you won't be his problem.

Convincing himself that he won't care if you don't want to get serious after seeing him in that situation, he convinces himself that relationships were naturally made to be destroyed and that he can handle it without you.

By the time you opened the door for him, he had everything staged, and he was ready for both acceptance and rejection — only for you to laugh at him and ask how his small frame was capable of such a thing; you didn't sound in denial.

"He deserved what he got," you even muttered as you skillfully wrapped his hand with a gauze that you said you coincidentally had. "Very foolish."

"Hah, and you think that way because?" he asked, looking up at you as if everything in him wasn't quaking in fear of rejection. "Are you going to give me your wise words?"

"Shouldn't you know that already?" you asked, scoffing at him. "You wouldn't harm anyone who wasn't rightfully wrong in the first place. You're taunting, you have a shit personality, but you won't rely on physical first."

He knew trust was dangerous—to trust and to rely—yet he still slipped a ring on your finger as a promise that he was yours, though you weren't the type to control.

A commoner's life wasn't filled with riches, comfort, or equality, but he drowned in all those three things when there was this smile on your lips that he stared at, making you say that it was making you feel self-conscious.

As his spouse, you were dragged into those rumors regardless of your frail and obviously weak physique, but you weren't bothered unless things turned physical; Kunikuzushi was the same despite his taunting attitude.

You weren't the best in either attacking or defense; your stats were literally near zero, and you had to avoid physical situations—at least until Kunikuzushi and he'll deal with it if needed to.

You'd cheer him on, and he'd get flustered or scoff at you, might even give you the tiniest and weakest bonk he can and tell you to shut the fuck up, though he was glad you weren't bothered.

"And you never bothered to tell me?" you asked, your arm is propped on the bed to support yourself as you look down on his laying form. "Y'know I could've helped somehow, should I buy us chamomile tea?"

"What makes you think we can afford that?" he asked, looking at you with a small frown.

"Who says we can't?" you asked before grinning a bit. "It's just chamomile tea, we can afford something like that. It's for everyone, not just nobles."

You looked somewhere idly as you started going off, saying, "Perhaps chamomile tea might not help, should I buy medicine too? What kind of scent do you like? We can get scented candles too, what do you think? If it's not enough, we can buy more things… we can use the money we have to get a more comfortable bed for you too, not like we have a specific goal when it comes to spending. It's a win-win for us."

"Why do you call it a win-win?"

It was now Kunikuzushi's turn to prop up his hand to match your current height, looking at you with a frown, to which you only laughed and said, "I mean... we'd both be relaxing and comfortable?"

"Is this bed not enough?" he asked, his frown never ceasing, causing you to smile a bit at his concern. "You're not comfortable with it?"

"I didn't say that," you muttered before just shrugging. "It's not that bad, maybe just a bit sore from work...? I just can't sleep lately, it happens often."

"Probably," your spouse says, laying back down and looking up at the ceiling.

You knew that even if he said that, he wouldn't truly let go of the topic; he was just that concerned for you, though it's hard to get him to admit it.

The thought made you laugh. You lay beside him beneath the blankets, slipping your hand in his shirt and around his waist, making him shudder a bit, but he didn't say anything.

It was just a week later when they realized it wasn't just the usual one; after all, you just suddenly stumbled on multiple occasions despite eating healthily under his watch.

The money that was supposed to go to the comfortable bed you said would be better for the two of you almost went to the check-up he wanted you to go to.

You two almost had an argument about it first thing in the morning: one said it's just something that happens often and that it was most likely the lack of iron, while the other said that it could be something.

Kunikuzushi had to expose you, saying that you'd only feel guilty at the loss of money, but he didn't berate you for it; he said that you didn't need to worry about such things.

He knew it was hard to erase uncertainty, especially when it came to spending, because you two experienced hardship simply for being commoners.

You laughed for saying what he did and for showing evident concern, but it was done affectionately; he made you feel cared for and loved.

"Okay, okay," you laughed, making his expression relax a little for being able to convince you. "Tell me when."

"The day after tomorrow," he said, making you clam up your mouth immediately.

As far as you know, it was already hard enough for commoner doctors since they deal with a long line of patients each day, and there were also the doctors on the noble line; they were all busy.

"You can't just suddenly barge in the clinic and pull the doctor aside to put me on their schedule!" you said, your voice tinted with surprise. "It even takes some a week to be called on!"

"You can if you have connections," he said with a small smirk, to which you scoffed. "It's not that hard to pick and find someone capable."

"Are you boasting right now?" you laughed. "Does my husband want to be told that he's very capable?"

"Just go to sleep already," Kunikuzushi said, making you laugh more.

"Yes, yes," you smiled, loosely wrapping your arms on waist to hips. "Get back home safely, Kuni."

You gave him a short peck, and instead of easing his worries about your health since you agreed to a checkup, he suddenly took notice of your warmth and your chapped lips that looked like they were getting less saturated.

Kunikuzushi couldn't chastise you more than he already did, so he gave you another kiss. He didn't nibble on your lip, but he took his time giving your lips tiny licks that made you want to pull away or squirm

"Drink more water," he said, making you let out a disbelieving breath as you scrunched your face. "Wet your lips more."

You'd follow him if it weren't for the taste of iron when you do; it means he tasted it too, making you feel a bit disgusted.

He notices the face you're making. He chuckles, presses a finger on your forehead, and then reminds you to go to sleep while he's gone and that if you couldn't, there were tea leaves on the cabinet.

You thought it was sweet, and you felt all fluffy inside until he yelled for you to not forget to lock the door, making your jaw drop and yelling profanities after him.

The knowledge you have of Kunikuzushi's work is limited, but you did go to the bar he takes nightshifts at sometimes; you'd sit there and he brings you drinks or entertains you—and strictly just you.

He returns in the morning, where he often just crashes into bed and sleeps, and that would have been what he would have done if it weren't for the old lady nervously fidgeting near his door right after he's on his way home.

His eyebrows furrowed because he knows her, and you know her too, so why were you making the old lady wait outside?

You would talk to her outside or inside the house for hours, and he'd come home to see her off when he returned from work because she didn't want to disturb you two.

"Oh, good sevens!" the old lady exclaimed, her voice tinted with glee yet nervousness. "I was passing by to read the newspaper with [name], and I heard something fall! I tried knocking, but no one was answering…!"

"When did that happen?" Kunikuzushi asked, already walking towards the door to knock on it so you'd know about his arrival. "Did they answer?"

Once you had left the house and you left him locked out of the house without any spare keys, since then you leave a note on the window when you're out.

He looked at the window; the curtains were closed and there was no paper sticking on the window saying you're out of the house, but you weren't answering.

"No, no one answered," the old lady says as Kunikuzushi furrows his eyebrows.

"Goddammit..." he mutters.

He was tired; he just wanted to lay down and rest to wake up at dinner time so you two could eat together, but this situation wasn't allowing him to.

There was this twinge of irritation in him each time you opened the door late to say you slept in, but in this case, after hearing about how unwell you were the day before and an item dropping inside to the point that it could be heard from outside, he'd rather hear that you only slept in.

He removes the safety pin from his clothing solely for this purpose: to pick the lock, not caring if the old lady was watching or if she'd spread rumors about this kind of skill that he has.

Kunikuzushi left the pin on the door as he opened it slowly, both wary and worried on what could be on the other side, but seeing as it was empty, he fully pushed the door open.

Your name left his lips as he looked at the side, no one, but on the other side, lays you near the sink; the water was off, your feet were dry, and there was a wooden bowl beside you.

You've always attracted trouble for being his.

His heart clenched as he immediately went beside you to observe everything better, a hand on your forehead going down to feel your cheek, and his other hand already preparing to carry you up.

He took mental notes of your feverish, unconscious look and what the situation looked like; no matter how much you trusted anyone, he felt his suspicion and hatred for everything and everyone flare up.

Instead of asking help, he told the old lady to go home whilst observing every reaction she has.

Kunikuzushi observes your reaction after placing you in bed; he removes any unnecessary items from you that are causing you more discomfort, tending to you first before trying to investigate.

He made sure you had a cloth on your forehead and looked down to check for any form of reddish rashing of some sort before his gaze lowered at your ankle, which was sprained.

The bowl had nothing—no poison, just nothing—so you were most likely trying to wash it when you sprained your ankle. It's a possibility you hit your head too hard and passed out, but your feverish state could also be the problem.

You've always been frail, but it was never this serious. He had witnessed you stumble, fall, and then laugh it off, but why did he not notice you were sick before he left the house? You just suddenly developed a fever.

He cleaned the dishes on your behalf while also tending to you, performing that well-known method you once did for him, which was to rest your ankle, ice it, compress it, and then elevate.

Just when your consciousness was about to slowly return, your pain receptors screamed, making your eyes widen, and then you looked down at where the pain was.

Kunikuzushi was wrapping your ankle to compress it; he knows you're awake but stayed quiet, not wanting to make thoughts rush in your head as soon as you wake up.

You let out a breath then laid back down, looking up at the ceiling, and you were now just noticing the heat of your face, even your tongue was warm.

He took the pillows on his side, stacking them before placing your leg there, making you laugh a bit despite your hazy gaze, and he glared at you for that but remained silent.

"You should put on a mask, Kuni," you uttered, your voice dry and quiet, but he heard you, and he scoffed before leaving to get you a glass of water. "Okay, how fussy."

Inside, it warmed your heart to know that his mood wasn't good solely because of your well-being, or it could be because he looked like he didn't even rest.

Your mind was able to function better than your body; even your current willpower isn't able to help you at this point, and you feel like cursing your frail body.

How will you come to the doctor's appointment tomorrow at this rate? You feel this need to get better immediately, and as these thoughts race in your head, Kunikuzushi places the glass of water on the nightstand.

"If you have the time to think about all that, what about explaining to me what exactly happened?" he asked, sitting on the bed you're on, making you frown, which looked like a pout to him. "Since when?"

"Won't the better question be how I am?" you asked as you attempted to sit up, but you just grunted instead of actually being able to move your body.

"Better question is: how bad is it?" he asked.

"Ten being the worst, I rate it five," you responded before glancing at the glass of water and then at your spouse. "Hold me up?"

"Talk like that with the others, and they won't understand you," he commented as he rolled you to your side, pushed your legs off the bed, and then pulled you up to sit. "Headache?"

"Don't make me think of symptoms because I might actually end up having them," you said, your head suddenly aching more, making him clam his mouth. "I feel like throwing up…"

"There's a bucket beside the bed," he said, his hand wrapping below your arms as he grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand, waiting for you to part your lips. "I told you to drink more water."

You were about to retort that you did, but he placed the rim of the glass on your lips and tilted it up a bit, and you had no choice other than to drink.

In all seriousness, you can barely feel your body anymore, even writing seems tiring to you, perhaps tomorrow will be better.

You woke up to hear mutterings nearby, one from your spouse and the other from someone you don't know, but you didn't open your eyes, even after hearing the door close.

Your thoughts traveled to wondering if it was his day off because Kunikuzushi was at home, and you concluded that it probably was.

The trail of thoughts you had suddenly broke as soon as you heard something heavy crack together with your husband swearing, making your eyes instantly fly open to check what happened.

"Kuni…!?" you called, and you instantly noticed your voice had gotten better, but you coughed after.

"What are you… go back to sleep," he says, his eyebrows furrowed as he walks towards you, holding onto your shoulders to force you down. "It was just a pot, and I just knocked it off. Don't worry about it, and go back to sleep."

His voice was breathy, and you paused for a few seconds to give yourself enough time to repeat in your mind how he said his words. The seconds were enough for you to notice that there was a certain tremble in it, and that made you feel more worried about him than your current state.

You placed your hands on his, which were on your shoulders, and you were about to ask him if he was okay, but your lips zipped themselves after noticing even his hands were trembling.

"Okay, Kuni..." you said, trying to take his hands from your shoulders so you could hold them with your own. "First of all... breathe."

"What are you saying?" he asked, looking irritated and in a hurry. "I said go to sleep, it's still early."

"Of course I'll follow you," you said as your fingers tried to pick his fingers from your shoulders. "But you follow me too because, Kuni, you're panicking right now, and it's making me feel the same."

You breathe out to calm yourself before you whisper, "So breathe... I'll be here until you're ready, but don't stay too close."

Kunikuzushi wanted to act normal, to act as though he didn't just hear something that he dreaded for a long time; he wanted to scoff at your words and say he was never the one to get sick.

But how could he?

In his eyes, you had always been so smart to predict what he could potentially feel just based on what happened, so you discreetly made a comment back then about you didn't like being the only one in someone's world that was directed to him.

He scoffed at you that day, but he ended up doing exactly that; he made connections far beyond just you, yet he relied all his emotional well-being on only you—he basically couldn't bear to lose you.

Your lips thinned after seeing that his breathing didn't even calm down at all and that he didn't even seem to be in the same world as you.

You successfully laced your fingers with his, but it looked like he was pinning you because of how much strength he has in his arms. You said nothing and remained unmoving as his fingers pressed on the back of your hand.

His breath remained shaky as he buried his face on your chest and then up to your neck, and then he uttered how the doctor he brought for you said how your case was new and only a few had the same, so there were no full-healing remedies.

Each word was forced, and it was as though he was biting back a sob with each syllable; his reaction was making you feel saddened more about him than your state.

His hold left bruises on the back of your hand, and he fell asleep laying over you despite you telling him not to get too close since you were still feverish.

You can't help but wonder if you've always been frail or if some sickness was already developing in your body and you just failed to notice, because you don't remember not being weak.

Something changed in Kunikuzushi that day; if you were being honest, you changed too, but you pretended as if your situation didn't just result in you getting fired from your job despite being talented.

You attempted to do housework, which you can still manage, but you also spend your free time drinking water, writing letters, and then sealing them with wax and dried flowers.

Your worries were different from Kunikuzushi, who worries for your life while you worry about being incapable.

As much as he harbors such love for you, he fears going home; he fears seeing something other than your breathing state, and he fears seeing another bruise on you or blood splatters on your clothes.

He began developing self-hatred towards himself for having better immunity than you do and for being able to do things you can't do; things he used to be proud of turned into nothing but reasons to hate the world.

How he loathed it when you say that you don't know why but you just had no appetite yet you sit on the same table as him, smiling at him as though your time wasn't limited.

You weren't carefree; you knew Kunikuzushi was suffocating, but you didn't know how to approach him without talking too deeply about the topic or accidentally triggering his unwanted memories.

You also noticed how he clenched his fists when he saw you outside the house to try and enjoy nature, and how he held back in reprimanding you for going outside.

"I'm going," he said, and you looked up to him from what you were writing.

He sees how your baggy eyes gloss when he coldly says those words and how your worry is so evident in your eyes despite your smiles, but he just doesn't want to approach the topic yet.

You smiled and nodded, saying, "Get home safe, Kuni, I'll be waiting."

The rumors about him gave him new ideas that he was not hesitant to take in again: the first was for the people he treated as family, the second for a child, and the third would be for you.

He has to keep you alive, even if his hands, which he uses to care for you, are stained red. There may be no cure, but there are temporary remedies that he just needs to be able to afford.

It was starting to suffocate you too; it hasn't even been a week since the doctor told him about it and Kunikuzushi relayed the information to you.

When you opened the door for Kunikuzushi, he didn't even greet you, just rushing in, grabbing a glass of water, and placing it on the table before sitting down.

You were dumbfounded, but you smiled and decided to brush it off, closing the door and sitting on the other side of where he was, but your smile dropped after seeing what was in the pouch.

Medicine was hard to afford, and you two only had extra, but it wasn't enough to afford a single pain reliever, yet Kunikuzushi was taking out at least six to eight.

"W-Wait…!" you stuttered, surprised to the point you got up and placed both your hands on the pouch he was holding on to, making it slam on the table with your hands covering it. "What is this…? This is not part of our budget, we didn't even talk about this…!"

His tired eyes watched you nervously place the remedies back in the pouch as you said, "W-We don't need this! Seriously, we don't need to spend your money on this—"

"'Your'?" he repeats, as if it were the only thing he heard; you didn't even emphasize the word. "What happened to 'we'?"

Since you lost your job, you have been trying to find different ways to earn without your case disturbing you, but you were still unable to find one, and you didn't even have a share in the money anymore.

It was all his money, and you can't tell him you were feeling insecure or undeserving if you say that it belonged to you two.

"Your—because it's yours!" you said, like you were defensive as your mind went hazy on what to tell him before you looked down on the pouch and released it. "Like this—my goodness, it must be yours! I'm so sorry for touching it."

"What?" Kunikuzushi asked.

"You know what… I'll just get fresh air…!" you nervously said, looking away as you grabbed the shawl that's hanging on your chair and then stepped away from your chair. "Sorry again—"

"What... are you talking about?" he asked.

His hands on the table clenched as he tried to take in your actions and your wording; you called it all his, like you were thinking that he didn't do all of it for you.

Every wall he built for the past week started to break just because your actions and words made him think that it seemed like you weren't involved in his life anymore.

Are you just resigning to your fate?

He opened his mouth to mock you, to tell you that you're as weak as your physique, but he placed his palm on his mouth when a sob came out instead.

Your eyes widened when he let out just that one sob. You turned to him and started fussing over him immediately, your hands going everywhere on him: on his shoulders, neck, arms, hands, and then cheeks.

His lips part to tell you something, anything, but everything about your relationship with made him feel overwhelmed like he was a week ago, except he sheds tears this time.

He's so frustrated and so filled with hatred about all the burdens he had to keep; he thought he was protecting you this way, he thought if he voiced his frustration, it would bother you, but it was exactly because he didn't that you misunderstood him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." you muttered repeatedly as you desperately tried to wipe his tears that just kept coming. "I'll try better, I won't place a burden on you, it's okay... Kuni..."

You were misunderstanding the reasons of his tears and he knows you're panicking too, because your hands trembled to wipe his tears and you even resorted to using your shawl.

You looked at him so worriedly, like he didn't neglect you, and you were trying to comfort and pamper him when he should be doing it to you instead, but he needed this.

It took him a while to calm down, his face in your hands, and his eyes felt heavy; he felt like he can sleep while sitting as long as he's reassured your presence was near but he had to say something.

"I want to keep you alive," he uttered.

"Yes?" you asked, sounding a bit surprised and confused because, for you, it came out of nowhere. "Okay... I'll accept that."

"You're stupid."

"I know."

"I don't know why you think that way," he said, his hands going up to clench on the clothes that were at your hips. "You're too humble."

You laughed, "You think so?"

"I know so," he says, taking a breath in before bringing you close, his face on your stomach, and then his shoulders sagged. "…[name]."

"I wasn't trying to invalidate your care for me," you said, your hands moving past his ears and behind his head before rubbing his back. "I can't work anymore, I don't have anything to contribute to what you're doing for us."

"So?"

"So...?" you repeated, confused. "That means I'm basically not performing my social role well, I'll be a dead—"

"No, not at all," he cuts off and you realized your wording. "We didn't get married for that, did we? You're just... really stupid to think that way..."

"Then... That's reassuring to hear from you."

"[name]…" Kunikuzushi whispered, his hold loosening on your clothes as he wrapped his arms around you instead. "I'm desperate."

"For?"

"I want to keep you alive, I want to extend your time... everything..." he breathes out. "So I... did something."

"Yes?" you asked once more, and he couldn't help but gulp despite your calm voice.

"If you knew, you would be so so disgusted," he said, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he clung to you tightly. "You have values and such morals that you're stubborn about. I don't want to ruin it for you."

You placed a hand on top of his head as you stared blankly, trying to connect the dots on your own so he won't have any problems in trying to tell you about it.

Last time you checked, Kunikuzushi worked on the bar for nightshift, and since after hearing the news about what you had, he was never the same.

He described it as something bad to the point your morals and values were also included; your lips thinned, thinking of one only possible answer.

"Kuni, I only have one question for you," you said, looking down and assuming what it could be he was talking about. "You don't have to explain, you just have to nod or shake your head."

"That sounds unfair," he looks up to you. "But I prefer what you said."

"Alright, Kuni…" you said, your hand leaving his back to place it on his cheek. "Did you take another job, or did your job change?"

Your question was not what he expected, but it was involved in what he wanted to say; he was surprised because he knows that you were unaware that he had picked up a weapon when he was still a child.

It was obvious by his face that he felt the tiniest twinge of suspicion, but his awe towards you was greater; it went away quickly when he thought about what you two were talking about.

He nods, his eyes boring into yours as your eyes looked to the side once before sighing and nodding. You said, "Okay, I suspected it already. You… are very brave for telling me."

"Is that all you're going to say?" Kunikuzushi asked.

He thinks that those words can't be all because he was going against everything you believed in, and you even said that you suspected it already even though you showed no signs of knowing.

You blinked at his question before nodding to say that yes, that was all you were going to say about his confession.

"How do you see me now?"

"Same old," you said, even laughing a bit. "I mean... After all, I did suspect you of it already, it feels like you're only confirming my suspicions."

"Not the answer I want."

"You're not asking me a specific question, so why would I answer you the way you want?"

Kunikuzushi glared at you, and you only laughed; it only irked him. and was tempted to shove the medicine in your mouth and drown it in water, but he held back.

After he had been hiding it from you for so long and may continue doing it, you had no reaction but to just accept it and laugh, but at least you weren't misunderstanding his worries anymore.

"Do... ove...?"

"Say it properly, Kuni," you said, making him feel a bit more irritated, but he's grateful as you press a finger in between his furrowed eyebrows. "No need to be fussy, I just didn't hear you properly."

"You're this on purpose," he said, his grip on your clothes loosening, and your eyes widened at his words as you shook your head.

"I'm not! I really just didn't hear you," you replied, defensively as you pulled your finger back, because this was one of the rare moments when Kunikuzushi needed reassurance and wanted an answer straight out of your mouth. "C'mon, are you embarrassed?"

"You're cruel," he uttered, his eyes closing as he thought all of it over.

The weight of the fact that you had no cure, that there was no telling when you'd last, and that everything he's doing is only to extinguish the pain but not let you live longer.

"Do you love me, even after what you learned?"

"You're dumb if you think otherwise."

He'd bear it all; the thought of you leaving the world earlier than him fills him with pure loathing, but you're still here; he doesn't have to tear the world apart yet.

THIS IS HEIZNX, this title is so stupid but i don't know how to make titles so i'm going to roll with it. i didn't want to copy the entire idea of the song, since it actually had an actual story based on the song. it's just so heart-wrenching and i want to create a scenario of the same feeling that is also akin to the actual song. songfic? sickfic? i'm not sure... IM SO BAD WITH TAGS. trying to hide details in the fic. i ended up listening to orange instead of seasonal feathers. i hate it when things get too long so i wont look at the word count so i wont feel like doing this as a mini series, i put too much scenes. I CRIED TWICE TYPING THIS ITS SO FUNNY. OMG EVERYTHING SIDETRACKED, HAD TO CHANGE THE TITLE, I WANNA DELETE IT BUT ITS A WASTE TO DO SO. i type my author's notes in diff time -- this was rushed cuz i wanted to watch kubz scouts.

#genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader

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heiznx · 2 years ago

Text

WHERE DID IT ALL GO WRONG?

∗༝*◦✦ when and why did you start distancing yourself from him?

BEFORE READING, swearing, insecurities, anxiety, overthinking, trauma, invalidated feelings everywhere, misunderstanding, commitment issues, pent up feelings, and this includes main story spoilers.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Anyone who lives in the Queendom of Roses would know of the admiration the rose tyrant gave you before attending Night Raven College.

You were his earliest childhood friend, even earlier than Trey or Chenya, and his mother never separated you from him because it was her who introduced you to him; your parents had his mother's respect.

He respected you for being able to separate your personal life from the facade you show society, because for him, rules must apply wherever he is or whoever he is with.

Your first year at Night Raven College, you were doing well in following the rules, so you were able to stay close to him even after he began to be the dorm leader of Heartslabyul.

Students asked for your guidance, and you were appointed as the vice dorm leader, Riddle's chill pill, or one to distract Riddle, almost like what Trey does.

Staying close to him also means seeing his deeds towards the Heartslabyul students: being collared, told to sing, or told to paint the roses red as punishment.

Before the second year even started, you were the one to start distancing yourself from Riddle himself, and he was confused; you were his guide in trying to remain calm, though you never truly succeeded.

You can't deny Riddle Rosehearts scared you.

When will it be before he also does the same to you? You might be good at following the rules, but that's only because most of the rules are things you are accustomed to doing or not doing.

For example, in rule 256: you must not drink lemonade with honey past 8 p.m., or in rule 53, you must replace anything you steal. You don't drink lemonade with honey past that time, because why would you? You don't even steal so what would you replace?

While you were having those kinds of thoughts, you didn't try to talk to anyone about them because you convinced yourself that you were just a coward, and you couldn't even speak up about them when, in truth, you just didn't want to hurt Riddle.

In your second year, you plan on giving up your vice housewarden title, but you can't decide on that alone; the incoming paperwork would be stressful, but it would be quick.

"What?"

"As I said, I'm giving the vice housewarden position to Trey Clover," you respond nonchalantly, despite your insides shivering in anxiety. "And I wanted to let you know beforehand."

"Understood, but if you could, I want the reason behind it," he says, putting his finger in the handle of the cup before it was brought near his lips. "You have the perfect record without breaking a single rule for the past year."

"Should I break one in front of you?"

"How could you think of such a thing?" Riddle asked, his face showing distaste towards what you said.

"I had thought of giving him a chance to be one, especially since he would be in his third year by then," you responded.

You were scared and tired of seeing the faces of the students asking you how you were able to keep a clean record or them begging you to tell Riddle to take back their punishments.

The pressure of not breaking rules because you're not accustomed to them is just pure luck; sooner or later, you are going to break one, and you will feel punished as well — one day, you'll see yourself collared too, and you'll see people being disappointed in you.

"I suppose you are correct," he says, though you had a good point, he didn't want to agree with you in this.

Trey was his friend, and so were you; Riddle was about to be in his second year, and you were too; Trey would be leaving earlier than you two.

You were already slipping Riddle's grasp by not approaching him like you used to anymore, not even for small talks or venting about rumors; he just senses that you are feeling further away.

Even now, not even a small talk, just silence after his answer. Not even your usual thing where you try to predict his mood and the reason behind it; no, you were just so quiet.

For the first time, he also felt suffocated in your presence, just like you are with him; he dislikes it so much.

"I should leave," you say before showing that your cup was already empty. He could pour you another, but you didn't want to stay any longer. "I'll let the headmage know about the change of vice housewarden Heartslabyul."

Riddle only nods towards you. He can't say anything. Why are you speaking so formally? What was happening to you? Who are you?

He was never taught how to handle emotions, how to have friends, or how to keep people by his side, because you've done all three for him: you helped him understand what he felt, you became his friend, you were the one who stuck by him, and now you're leaving.

He wants to be blunt; he wants to use your old title as vice housewarden to talk to you, but what topic should he even talk about? He was just never taught how to get a friend back.

Riddle finds himself walking in the hallways alone, with you a few feet behind him but never approaching him. Unbirthday parties, you sit the furthest from where the queen sits.

He just convinces himself that he can handle things, even without you, and that he is fine alone; he doesn't have to deal with his emotions now. All he needs are those 810 rules.

No one in the Heartslabyul knows what happened; no one bothered to ask because you two only had each other as friends and you decided it's better to be alone than beside him, though you wished he reacted more when you said you'd give the title to Trey.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

You two were listless beings; he can never be king because he is a second born; he refuses to exert effort that will never be seen; and you were just you because of your past experiences.

It was never said what it was, but you two struggle with emotions altogether. The two of you were casual, the bluntest, the closest, yet also the furthest towards each other.

You and Leona could both take a nap on the same bed and even cuddle without involving romantic things in it, as if it were truly platonic; you two pretend as if it's normal to do so, which it can be.

You have trouble identifying between platonic and romantic; you even struggle with general love, so you have problems committing yourself to someone or even to things.

You were never one to be swayed by rumors or discriminate, but when it was about you, you became awfully self-conscious.

It was just a rumor that was bound to be spread, a rumor that you and Leona were a thing, that you were something more than platonic, more than what you thought through.

Leona has no problems with it, but you were suffocating. You were uncomfortable being seen around him.

He's not blind, he notices; he's always been like that, observant, yet you don't dare say a word about the situation; he is not patient enough to wait for you, so he immediately talks about it.

"I hate it when you look like that."

"You hate everything, Leona," you responded, turning to lay on your back while your nape was pressed against his arm. "It's an exaggeration."

"You're not wrong," he replies, his other arm across to your stomach and ending with his hand on your hip. "You know rumors are just what they are, don't you? Unless you do think we could be more."

"As if," you muttered, though your mood instantly lowered because of his words, and you didn't say anything, wanting to just drop the entire topic.

He didn't drop the topic and said, "Then what is it about? It's just some stupid rumor; you're thinking that everything circulates around you and you're going to go all mopey and shit because of it."

Was that an insult, or is he trying to tell you not to bother? Perhaps it was just you overthinking? His words made sense; that's how you function, but your heart broke. What does that mean? Why did your heart break? Do you not want to accept how things are?

Each time you're feeling a different emotion, a question of why you felt that way pops up, and you can't answer anything because you don't know the answer.

You want to get yourself together; you want to go back to how you function without truly trying to delve into your emotions; and if you want to be able to think, you need to be alone.

You sat up, and he pulled back his arm because of that. Your reaction was not unexpected; you mostly bit back at what he said, and you would throw the same equal insult he did to you.

"I need time," you muttered.

Leona is not sure how to take that, but you're already slipping off his bed, wearing your shoes, to leave his room; he didn't know why you didn't say anything in return.

What was he supposed to take from your words? You need time to think—that he knows, but about what? The entire situation? Why were you affected in the first place?

He huffs, thinking you'd be back, though he knows very well that you won't; he just knows you that well. He has to be the one to confront you and act like nothing happened, but he wants something to happen; he just has to be discreet about it.

It was a good time to think about what you two exactly are, your relationship, what you feel towards him, and finally try to exert effort for you, to show you he was more than casualness.

The following days, however, he couldn't confront you, he is insensitive, he pushed you to think of your feelings for a good cause, yet your emotions were all over the place.

Leona underestimated how you feel about the topic; the next time you talked to each other privately, you had to leave in a hurry after saying that you didn't want any more rumors; his plan backfired.

He just didn't get the result he wanted, and if he confronts you again, you might just get further from him than you are now. What exactly were those experiences of yours that made you turn out the way you did?

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

A friendship born from a contract: it wasn't the contract itself that asked you two to be friends; it was because, during your time in completing the said contract, he was amused, intrigued, and all the things that go with it, at you.

A kind soul that cannot say 'no' to him nor even try to brush off a conversation just because that's how you were, but that's only at the start, his interest in you grew beyond just having you work for Mostro Lounge.

Torn, you were aware of the fact you were getting taken advantage of by him yet couldn't say no to him; you wanted the entire thing to just stop, but at the same time, you couldn't deny that you enjoyed being with Azul.

In hopes he would keep seeing you helping in Mostro Lounge or just seeing you longer in general, he kept making more and more contracts with you without knowing it was starting to destroy you mentally.

He thought you could see he was trying to be friends with you, and he thought it was such an obvious display of feelings — it wasn't.

You were dense when it came to feelings; you weren't humble, but you forced yourself to be, and you assumed the worst, which was thinking that you didn't mean anything to him at all.

"Oya, you're not accepting this time?" Jade asked as Azul felt like everything just failed him; the deal was unbalanced, and Azul was the one at a disadvantage, yet you didn't accept it; it was plainly obvious.

"I'm not," you respond, looking down at the presented contract. "I quite lost my time in my own hobbies because of the contract, and though the unlimited [favorite drink] does tempt me, I think I got tired of it."

"Ehh, you get tired fast," the twin said with a frown as he leaned his whole weight on your back, to which you only chuckled.

"You're the one to talk," you sigh before getting up, causing Floyd to pull back on his own. "Thank you for the offer; perhaps next school year would be a good time."

"Are you sure?"

Unbeknownst to him, you felt a bit hurt that that's all Azul could ask you after everything, but you suppose that's what you get for being hopeful that you were more.

And unbeknownst to you, he felt more than what you're feeling; you had time to sort out what you felt, you knew this day was coming, and you planned it, but he didn't know, which was why it was such a big surprise for him.

Where did he go wrong for you to nod as your response? Which part of the deal was not tempting enough? How could you smile like that towards him as you leave the door?

You didn't ask for changes in the contract, you could've changed what you wanted to fit your liking, but you didn't, which must mean that what was wrong was not the contract itself.

Is Mostro Lounge the problem? You weren't mistreated, the tweels made sure of that; you were not discriminated against, but if you still chose other things over working with him again — was he the problem?

It was a misunderstanding that neither of you wants to talk about. Don't worry; it happens very often to people who can't find their voice.

JAMIL VIPER

Being childhood friends with you also being friends with Kalim, so in Kalim's eyes you three were all pretty best friends, but in the reality, you were like Jamil's therapist, one who listens to his venting and side-comments about Kalim.

You enjoy Jamil's company, but it just felt so wrong to be friends with him and Kalim at the same time; Jamil hated Kalim while Kalim genuinely liked Jamil and has no idea that Jamil hates him.

Of course, you tried to ignore this; you told yourself that time might fix it and that the two of them would come to an understanding, but you three were already in your second year, yet nothing was happening.

Nothing was changing, and you just had to do something about it. You tried talking to Kalim first; he's oblivious, dense, and very slow, but perhaps he'd understand since this was about Jamil.

You tried to word it vaguely; you tried to use the 'person a' and 'person b' kind of thing, and Kalim ended up consulting Jamil about it, who got irritated and said they were wasting time pondering about that.

"Like, where the fuck did he even get that example?" Jamil asked you as he washed the dishes and then handed them to you, who placed them on the drying rack for plates. "He even said that he didn't think about it and just straight up went and asked me."

"That's so Kalim," you muttered, but you were degrading yourself for not thinking that Kalim would do that. "If it were me, person a and person b should come to an understanding that both of them were seeing each other wrongly."

The example Kalim had hits too close to home, and Jamil didn't even ask who he got those words from, but he's sure your words just now didn't help. He didn't ask for your opinion or wise words; things aren't as easy as they seem.

Perhaps it was his face that made your expression contort into surprise with a tint of hurt; was his expression too evident? He muttered an apology for hurting you.

You looked away already but smiled a little as you nodded and uttered your own apology, understanding that the topic might've been too sensitive.

Your first attempt already made you feel discouraged; it seems like Jamil hates Kalim more than you thought. Now that you think about it, why did you only choose to act now?

You were too late, and even if you confront him now, in his eyes, you were probably too low — the meaning of your friendship with him is low because he'll only take advice from respected individuals.

Jamil swore it was Kalim's fault for giving that example because you only gave him waves in the hallways after that night instead of approaching him. You still help him with kitchen duties, laugh, and talk like you always do, but you feel so far away.

He looks at you and gets reminded of himself, who had pent-up emotions that he confides in you about, but you look like you're about to burst, yet at the same time, you don't look any different.

He confronted you, but it made you feel like you were a bother for even feeling or trying to hide what you felt, especially when he sighed before asking if it was about his past vent about Kalim.

Your nails scratched on the surface of what you were touching instantly, and they quickly dug in your palm before you responded, "No, why bring that up again?"

"Wouldn't it be easy if you admit it so you can stop being like that?" he asked, and his words sounded so hurtful, but he didn't even notice that it came that way for you. "You're making things tense."

"How come you notice that when it comes to me but not when you do it?" you asked, returning the spice bowl to the counter. "That's a bit unfair."

Jamil was taken aback by your words, almost even saying a comeback or tell you that he was just concerned, but you sighed to calm yourself and apologized to him before saying you'd skip dinner and then you left the kitchen.

What kind of outburst was that? It came and fizzed out so quickly. What was going through your mind? What did you mean? He made things awkward before? He doesn't remember. Jamil felt conflicted.

He's convinced that you'd come back and apologize soon; instead, he sees you avoiding him but talking to Kalim. Just why only Kalim? Did your words from before really had meaning?

You had no intentions to speak to Kalim or Jamil at all because you were embarrassed and guilty for what you said; you could've handled that differently, but you're not sure if you would do it again if given another chance.

Kalim approaches you naturally because he's unaware of everything, and that made you wish you could be like him. Maybe you were starting to understand Jamil's hatred for him; you can't bear it to think like that of your friend!

You're going to suck it up and use your savings to eat at Mostro Lounge; you'd rather sign contracts with Azul than see or even talk to any of the two; you need space, and you need time to think things through further.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

When you two were children, he was incredibly inspiring. You watched him practice his lines, and when his father was not around, you became his judge to see if his emotions and body language were aligned.

You grew up understanding how he learned etiquette and taught you too, saying you should apply it every time until it became something you do subconsciously; you enjoy learning with him.

You two basically watched each other grow, but you think that Vil helped you more than you could've ever helped yourself; if you hadn't met him, perhaps you would've had a few embarrassing phases, and you would barely know a thing about cosmetics.

Vil was aware you learned slower than him; he gave you multiple considerations because you truly were trying, and he knew you weren't a model or an actor like him; you were just you, known by the popularity because of just having the title of being his childhood friend.

The only thing that suddenly made things change was when you were in your first years at Night Raven College, when a huntsman from the dorm, Savanaclaw, appeared and fed Vil's ego more than you could ever imagine — you felt insecure.

You were replaced, or at least you thought so, by a huntsman who was so observant and went on for 5 hours about Vil's performance on a bench in the snow.

You barely appeared in his life anymore, only treating his cold when he had one because his conversations with Rook were going back and forth; you were certain you were being forgotten.

"I feel like a nanny," you laughed as you helped him wear his headband and then push it up so it'd pull back his hair. His skincare products were just by his nightstand. "The moisturizer is missing, did you misplace it?"

"How could I?" he huffed his eyes closed as you lather up the loofah. "Rook has it, don't we use the same product? Lend it to me for today."

"Seriously...?" you ask, sounding troubled since you already had the soap on the loofah and he responded a bit too late. "I'll be back."

You met Rook on the way to your room; his hair was unkept, and he — you can't even continue — while you thought of his imperfections, he already saw and knew everything about you from first glance; you realized why Vil kept him around.

As Rook complimented you, you felt sick in your stomach for thinking that you could somehow at least be a bit better than him, to at least be noticed by Vil, like how Rook can be with Vil for five hours in the snow.

Vil was willing to catch a cold just to keep their conversation going.

Jealousy was such an immature thing; you can deal with this feeling with much more control. You felt inferior, and Rook even called what you felt right now: beautiful.

You had to excuse yourself because you said that you were tending to Vil's face, and that was when Rook remembered that he was supposed to give back the moisturizer he borrowed from Vil.

You felt so lost; Rook destroys you yet gives you a different perspective. Vil noticed the change in you when you went back to his room, and he looked a bit happy to see that you'd met the huntsman.

He talked about Rook while you were doing his skin care in his stead. While you wallowed in your jealousy, you failed to notice that Vil was happy that Rook finally saw you, who had stuck with him for so long.

You failed to see that Vil had talked about you to Rook, who knew everything about you, such as your identity and the strange facts about you, at first glance because of the model.

Rook was nice, Rook was good, and you decided to keep your feelings lowkey. You just wait to be called on instead of being close to him as you were before. Vil's standards were high, and you feel like you can never reach them.

IDIA SHROUD

Night gaming, one of you streaming when the other is busy, staying up until dawn, talking about whatever, and sharing side-comments about whatever happens in the present time — the friendship you had with Idia was just that simple.

You two were almost kinnies; you were both introverts, doubtful, anxious, and had the same interests, and the only way to get you two to talk a lot is to talk about the said interests. The only difference between the two of you was that Idia could rub people the wrong way while you were overly considerate.

There were a lot of things you brushed off with him, such as when he comments about the character you find interesting and he goes on about the mentioned character, pointing out their bad traits, until you say that it feels like you relate to them, he closes his mouth immediately.

It's funny if you don't overthink it.

You find yourself wondering if Idia considers you that way too. You wonder if he thinks your personality is as bad as the characters you said were interesting because you kin them. You wonder if the side comments you two make about other people also apply to you, like if he talks behind your back.

It doesn't matter who he does it with, because the only answer could be Ortho. You feel pathetic for being so desperate to know as to approach the child — robot — artificial intelligence just to know about it.

Your question was so vague that Ortho thought you meant it in a good way because you asked, "Does Idia talk about me sometimes?"

Ortho, who has been supporting his brother for a very long time and is aware of Idia's blossoming feelings towards you and thinks it's a chance to take a step forward, said, "Yes! Brother talks a lot about you!"

You weren't aware that what Ortho meant was that Idia was talking about you in a good way and that Ortho was only hearing good things about you, and Idia was trying to justify that what he feels and sees about you is only platonic.

Imagine Ortho's confusion, wondering why your heartbeat continues to remain at that fast pace, yet your expression showed him something akin to hearing the worst news of your life.

As a child, if someone you're talking to reacts negatively to your response, it means that they wanted to hear the other response.

Ortho tried to correct his so-called mistake and said, "I mean no! Brother doesn't talk about you at all!"

Which one is the most confused here? You or him? You thought Idia was talking bad about you, which you could've gotten wrong, but seeing Ortho deny it and lie, which he doesn't do, just confirmed that Idia was talking bad about you.

Now Ortho is wondering why your expression of pure horror remained on your face; he changed his answer, yet you reacted the same as if both answers were bad for you.

This misunderstanding carried on while Idia remained unaware of the entire situation.

When you tried to act normal the next time you two met or played a game, you ended up being so distracted that he jokingly mocked you for being bad at it, and you ended up overthinking about it more, much to Ortho's dismay.

"Ortho, is it me or is [name]-shi inactive these days?"

"They've been inactive ever since you told them they were bad at games, brother..."

"No way, did they take my insult seriously?"

None of you can bring up the said topic, continued to avoid it while also avoiding each other, and Ortho had to try and encourage his brother to make the first move.

Ortho does try to guilt-trip you too.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

How could you tell him that his lack of social skills was suffocating and somewhat irritating?

Anyone who is not equal to his abilities wouldn't dare think of what's in your mind right now, let alone even think that the crowned prince has any shortcomings.

You were somewhat close to Malleus, which is why you can think the way you do, why you can see his shortcomings, and why you can't bring yourself to open up about the topic.

There were times you thought to yourself that you were too controlling of people's lives, and sometimes you don't even see the shortcomings of people, but somehow, Malleus did something you disliked that made you see more.

This stung your heart and made you question yourself many times. Malleus, who doesn't even know the effect of his words and actions on others sometimes, noticed your mood.

When he asked about your well-being, it felt like you were having an identity crisis; no matter how many times this happens, you can never get used to it.

Malleus was your friend, so why were you thinking about him like that? So wrongly, it's as if you were painting him bad, though you felt like you were the bad person.

He needs your help; he seeks to understand humans like yourself and actually tries to make an effort in doing so. From the progress you've seen, it seems like the more he understands them, the more he is starting to understand himself too.

"Maybe just a bit pressured from the exams," you responded, your laugh turning nervous as your gaze left his to tend to your meal. "And since when did they serve this kind of tea in the canteen?"

"You have not even taken a single sip of the tea to know what it is," Malleus responded, his eyes only on you. "You drank the same tea just the day before."

"Perhaps I am a bit out of it..." you mutter to yourself.

"How dare you respond to Waka-sama without —"

"Drop it, Sebek," the fae immediately said, his hand making a gesture that followed his words.

Right, it wasn't just Malleus that you were having troubles with; it was also one of his retainers, Sebek Zigvolt, who wouldn't let a single day pass without chastising you for a single mistake.

At one point, you wanted to use Sebek as a reason why you wanted to leave your friendship with Malleus behind, but you thought that it was such a selfish reason to do so.

Were you the bad friend? You couldn't bare that thought.

Malleus never confronted you about your lack of energy, Sebek scolds you for it, Silver tries to confront you about it but isn't close enough to you, and Lilia tries to offer advice in the form of comments or stories.

The guidance you're giving him is also one that you're starting to need, but you couldn't bring yourself to make it obvious or ask for it in fear of being seen as incompetent by Sebek.

In his view, he was waiting for you to approach him first because that's what you always do with him, remaining patient and putting up with him; he wants you to feel as comfortable as he was with you, but he couldn't put it into words.

THIS IS HEIZNX, i-i'm biased -- had to check leona's headcanoned enneagram which was 8w7 in order to try to make up sentences abt him cuz i literally forgot almost everything in twst after getting fixated on something else that i don't even remember. everything in here feels so personal... is this even publishable? man,, WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST TYPE IN AZUL'S PART IM CRYING. THE WORD COUNT DIFFERENCE IS JUST SO FUNNY I SWEAR I WAS JOKING WHEN I SAID I WAS BIASED. HE SAYS LIKE... THREE WORDS !?!?

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heiznx · 2 years ago

Text

GAMBLES AND BETS

∗༝*◦✦ meeting you was a blessing towards the yakshas, but mostly to xiao.

BEFORE READING, this is long, and it downplaying injuries, karmic debt, war and all that's with it.

Alatus remembers only looking at the ground when he lowered his head towards the God that released him from endless suffering; however, he did end up raising his head when the Yakshas were told to.

He listened attentively as Rex Lapis, the God, started going on about the work that would be placed on them. Rex Lapis informed the Yakshas about the weight of the endless slaughter and the karmic debt that was about to come.

"Don't fret," Rex Lapis says, his arms crossed and his back on the Yakshas. "A friend of mine chose to leave for the plains first instead of waiting for you five."

The illuminated beast, in the form of a white crane, huffed for a reason that was unknown, as Bosacious was the one to open his mouth for the group to ask, "Then what exactly is our duty?"

"I want you to aid them, but let them do their own duties unless they require your aid," the God of Geo says, turning to look at the Yakshas before sighing. "This makes it all complicated, supposedly the job was solely for the Yakshas alone, but..."

"One would be angered if that bit of knowledge was shared by those one would meet," Cloud Retainer huffed, making the God rub his temple with his eyes closed. "If one understands, best set them off."

"I dismiss you all, watch over them."

With a swift bow of their heads, they were dismissed immediately. Each Yaksha had different thoughts, but all of them felt a foreboding feeling about who this person was going to be.

The sole wieldier of a polearm amongst the Yakshas remembers the feeling of being light-headed, his brain clouded at the thought of assisting a friend of the God he respects so much.

Alatus halted after noticing that his fellow Yakshas did after arriving on the plains; all were staring down at the [color] haired and the sight of them sent shivers down his spine.

Be it that they move in grace, it does not erase the fact that they appear to be having fun whilst slaying enemies left and right, not bothered by the manifestations of the Gods' hatred that followed their body so it could consume their soul.

The [color] haired Adeptus — no, your energy reminded him of that bloodhound of a God that used him.

The bloodhound of a God that he realized you looked nothing like as you brightened at the sight of the surprised Yakshas, even going as far as to happily greet them as if you were not on a battlefield.

The greeting wasn't done without you looking presentable. You froze off the blood using your abilities, and they fell off like ice shards, ridding you completely of the crimson liquid.

"What kind of weapon do you use — ah! You’re so amazing…!" you spouted compliments left and right, observing their appearance as you seemed to teleport around them. "Oh! You must be Bonanus!"

“Greetings to —” Menogias started only for you to turn to him.

“No need to be so formal! I go by [name],” you said, nodding to yourself before spotting Bosacius. “Woah! Four arms...! You must be the proud Bosacius Morax told me of!”

Alatus found it stupid that at the very first meeting, you tried to shake all four of Bosacius' arms despite you only having two.

"You look like Morax…" you said, looking at Menogias with a hand below your chin as you observed his vibe. "Ah, you! You tailored his clothes, didn’t you? You’re really talented, and you look like you know how to handle mora!"

"Have you done your background check on everyone?" Alatus asked, his arms crossed in front of him, finding no reason to keep this introduction of yours going, making you blink.

“And you must be —” you cut yourself off before turning to Bosacius. “Actually, what do you call him?”

"Has Rex Lapis not mentioned Alatus?" the four-armed Yaksha asked, supposed to be quietly, but Alatus heard it regardless.

"Oh, he does! Morax has a lot of stories about him, actually!" you said making the tiniest part of him curious. "Actually, Morax talks about anyone if you ask him; embarrassing moments of yours also escape his mouth if asked, but don’t worry! I have a lot to tell you as well!"

"Rex Lapis… what…?" Indarias asked, looking at you, jaw dropping as you giggled behind your palm.

"Morax has… not much understanding of those types of things; Guizhong said as much," you said before looking at the enemies below the cliff. "The talk could come another time; I must warn you of the karmic debt."

The first time the Yakshas sat with you at a table was on the same day as your meeting, and Alatus was unfortunate enough to be seated beside you.

Other than that, you were looking at the food as though it were a foreign thing to you, who blankly yet happily just kept staring.

“Is it not to your liking?” Menogias asked.

“Oh my, it’s not like that!” you retorted immediately before you grabbed your utensil. “It’s just that this is proper cuisine — it’s been months since we properly ate! We were so busy to even eat proper food!”

“What!?” Bosacius loudly asked as you nodded.

"It’s true…!" you acted as though you were hurt. "Morax had us only drink osmanthus wine during our talk! I’ve been buried in papers, and I can’t bring myself to do anything until I find the conclusion of my search!"

“Search for what, my liege?” Menogias asked.

"It’s something foreign until the end of the war," you said, scooping food with your spoon. "Anyways, who cooks around here?"

“Each of us do,” Bonanus responded as Indarias nodded.

“Really!?” you asked after swallowing.

"You can cook for us on the sixth day if you want," Bosacius said, and Alatus couldn’t help but raise a brow as you suddenly flushed red. "We’d be happy to know what kind of food you all eat with Rex Lapis."

"Ah — well, I mean, I can cook…" you said. "But it was said by Cloud Retainer that I should refrain from doing so."

“Just like Alatus, he's assigned tomorrow."

"Don’t bring me up; I can cook," Alatus said, making you laugh. "What is there to laugh about?"

You held back your laugh as you responded, “Don’t worry, Alatus, we can learn together.”

"I told you I can cook," he said, to which you nodded before you heard his next words. "Especially in winter, if the snow is thick enough, it’s edible."

“I’m sorry?” you blinked, looking surprised as the other Yakshas on the table just started laughing. “Alatus... what have you been feeding them?”

“D-Don’t worry, my liege, Bonanus watches over him,” Indarias said, afraid that you’d think less of them.

“I mean as long as it's edible, spiders are edible too.”

"MY LIEGE!?" Menogias asked a bit louder, as if asking you to repeat your words. "You... eat spiders, my liege?"

"As an experiment, I served it to Morax once, and he ate it," you said, making Bonanus shudder. "He even complimented it without knowing what it was."

“I don’t think I can let you in the kitchen, my leige...”

“I suppose that’s only fitting...” you said before you looked up from your food. “Wait, does that mean Alatus can actually cook better than me if he’s allowed in the kitchen?

The lack of response and the Yakshas avoiding your gaze made you say, “Oh... isn’t he... like, assigned for tomorrow?”

"So what of it?" Alatus asked, to which you just nervously chuckled.

“I... I look forward to it! Of course!” you sound like you’re lying.

Despite your informality when it comes to words, as if all of you were long-time friends, your aura still carried a tint of superiority; it most likely came from your body language.

No one can deny that your sitting posture, the way you hold your utensils, and how you eat are akin to the God of Geo.

Everyone knew how hard-working the Yakshas are, so the nighttime of the same date made Alatus feel confused because instead of going back to work, everyone decided to rest, all because you yawned.

It was a rest that the Yakshas barely got, so Alatus took it upon himself to watch his peers, going outside the makeshift tent that Menogias and Bosacius worked on to rock he usually sits on.

“Oh, as I expected...!”

He immediately summoned his polearm, looking up as he moved back in case an attack had already been launched, but it was just you, sitting on a tree, looking surprised.

You place a hand on your chin after, seemingly in thought, as Alatus didn’t let his guard down around you, which you probably noticed by the way you opened both your palms on your side.

Alatus was confused. Yawning is done when someone is tired or bored, and you did that yet you were awake, unlike the other Yakshas.

You said, “I was actually expecting to see you, especially after... well, what Morax said, but it was still surprising — if that even made sense.”

"This is not a place for rest," he said, frowning towards you, polearm still at hand. "Go back to yours."

"When one has been in a God’s presence for too long, one forgets that sleep even exists," you said, looking down at Alatus. "I’ve only heard of the Yakshas deeds, and it was enough to conclude that rest is something you all barely get."

There was a curious glint in your eyes that made him frown; he seemed to be an interesting subject for you, like he was some sort of research topic.

He huffed, ignoring you as he sat on the rock, prompting you to observe him a bit more before he heard you let out a breath and went down the tree.

You asked, “How about you leave the watching out to me?”

“No.”

“Should I start whining for you to give the spot to me?” you asked, walking behind him and bending yourself to face his view. “Alatus.”

The said Yaksha scowled and was tempted to push your face back if only you weren’t a friend of the God of Geo, but you seem to have taken the hint and backed off.

He said, "A friend of Rex Lapis or not, the fact that you're new to us cannot be extinguished."

"Hm, yes, that’s true," you said, crossing your arm with a small pout on your lips as you nodded before sitting on the tiny place beside him. "Scooch over; I’ll take this place with you."

"Scooch... what...?" he questions, moving to the side anyways, the furrow on his eyebrows not ceasing, and that made you chuckle.

“It means move aside,” you said, making yourself comfortable on your seat.

“I know,” he lied. “I learned of it just now.”

"You know, I sat on Morax when he didn’t move aside after I said that," you randomly said, making him turn to you quickly, and you laughed. "Oh, that was the reaction of Guizhong and Streetward Rambler! It was so hilarious!"

“Do you have no respect for the God that took you in?” he frowned.

"Morax never took me in," you said, to which Alatus had to bite back his surprise. "In fact, he was the one to approach me."

“Why would he?”

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" you grinned mischievously, making his lips wobble a bit, feeling slightly anxious. "Maybe I’d consider telling you if you let me take over night watch… oh! And if you go to sleep!"

“Hah, as if,” he scoffed.

His polearm stayed nearby as he crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he silently debated with himself whether to succumb to your temptation or not.

He had to weigh the pros and cons first and think of a specific reason why you seem to want him to close his eyes momentarily and be unaware of everything; you could be plotting something for all he knows.

"Since I’m asking two questions, maybe I can give you two answers too!" you said as he felt you lean forward, making him open his eyes. "I’ll let you ask me something!"

“You sly...” he frowns, seeing you leaning your elbow on your leg thigh and your chin in your palm.

"Are you not curious about what Morax approached me for?" you smirked. "I’m giving you a chance to ask anything that I know about him."

"Would I get an answer now if I agreed?" he asked, making you blink as if you weren’t expecting him to be caught.

"Before you sleep, of course," you nodded, straightening your posture. "It’d be relieving for you, no?"

He sighed, making you laugh like you were cheering for your victory, before he said, "I’ll be in the tent after this."

"Let’s do that thing first," you said, holding out your pinky. "I heard it’s called yubikiri; we link pinkies, and the one who lies gets ten thousand punches, and whoever lies gets to swallow a thousand needles — though I’m only sure that’s merely an exaggeration."

"You’ve heard of the strangest things," Alatus scoffed, but mirrored what you did before you linked your pinkies together with a bright smile. "So what now?"

"A contract-like thing is sealed! You should then go to sleep after I give the information you want!" you said, breaking off your linked pinkies with his before humming. "Well… would you like to ask a question first, or should I answer?"

“The answer.”

"Right," you nodded. "I was merely nothing but an illuminated beast until Morax approached me himself, seeking my knowledge in terms of human emotions and the devotion I give in my research."

You didn’t lie or avoid getting straight to the point; that must be an effect of the yubikiri, or what you call it, because as soon as he got the answer, he got up.

That prompted you to send him a questioning gaze as if to ask if he was going to ask you anything, but he turned his back on you, not wanting to see your expression when he was going to ask what he wanted an answer to.

“Does... Rex Lapis truly speak of me?”

"What an insecure being you are…" he heard your comment, but there was a certain tenderness in your voice. "Yes, Morax talks of you; he talks highly of you, but rather than referring to you as Alatus, he calls you Xiao."

No wonder you questioned what he was called; you didn’t want to accidentally reveal his name, which was given by the Geo Archon.

He heard you say, “Good night, Alatus.”

It must be the effect of the yubikiri because he really did go to sleep after that; he was not one to break a contract-like oath, especially when Rex Lapis values contracts so highly.

To the Yakshas' surprise, in the next morning, they were met with a peacefully sleeping Alatus, who also woke up last.

He had been sitting for the past hour, arms crossed in front of his chest, as his fellow Yakshas were asking him continuous questions that made him feel odd being in the center of attention.

Bosacius being the loudest and Menogias being the curiousest of all, he was even pestering you about what happened, but you only gave him vague answers.

"Your liege truly is amazing…" Bonanus complimented, to which you shook your head. "It is a great feat to actually get Alatus to sleep, and much more that he woke up later than us."

“How about I propose something?” you asked.

“This is not good,” Alatus immediately sighed.

"I’d sell the information to the one that gets less harmed in today’s subjugation," you said as your weapon was summoned to your hand. "If Alatus wants to protect this information, then do not get harmed."

“I can be safer than him!” Bosacius said, feeling a bit competitive.

“We all know Bonanus would win this one...” Indarias sweatdropped.

“Oh! And healing spells don’t count!”

“Menogias...” the hydro user Yaksha said as she looked at the said Yaksha, who smiled proudly.

“I...” Alatus sighed. “I’ll have to win this.”

Alatus didn’t win, but Indarias did.

He was watching you gesture your hands as you tell her, he assumed, was the story of how you made him swear to sleep.

Bosacius was getting healed by Bonanus, who silently sulked with him for not winning the so-called proposal made by you; she envies Indarias for getting to hear the information.

"I want another proposal from your liege!" she said. "Let it be one who gets the most kills, and I’d win! Your liege steals all of it."

That was how it became an everyday game for them: you give out a challenge that they have to fulfill, and the one who gets to do it first gets a piece of information they want, and sometimes it even moves to materialistic things, especially when Menogias wins.

Be it silk, weapons, rare ores, stories of old times, or documented events, you seem to have it all. Alatus was seeing the reason why Rex Lapis approached you first.

Not only were you aware of where to find material things, but you were also aware of what they felt, what they wanted, what they didn’t, what they were good at, and what they were not.

It was a dangerous thing, considering once the previous God he was under learned of his weakness, he was immediately used — you don’t seem to use anything that extreme, though.

He was still wary of you, but it's disappearing bits by bits, especially as time flows by and most especially when he catches you, more than once, talking to the Yakshas to ‘open up’ as you call it.

Happily chatting the night away with Indarias, you relate your experiences with her, and then you proceed to make a special move with Bonanus where she washes the enemies, directing them to an ice sphere you make to suffocate them or kill them by hypothermia.

Bosacius would help you with anything that included heavy lifting. Menogias would be discussing finances or fabrics with you, and he, Alatus, would often spar with you.

He’s foreign to most of the things you do and finds himself being placed in situations, like trying out whatever it was you were trying to accomplish by pulling him on the frozen water, and he almost slipped if it weren't for your hands.

Alatus wasn't the one to try to make himself blend in; if talking about his presence, it's said that his presence was just there. However, when he's following you, he's not just there; he is here.

The other Yakshas were already in the frozen pond, all were pleasantly surprised that it didn't break under Bosacius' weight.

“This practice acquires you agility and balance! If you can do it, then it means you’re already good in both,” you said, pulling his hands, his knees shaking from attempting to balance like Bosacius. “How are you faring, Alatus?”

“Are you attempting to embarrass me further?” he questions, looking on the side to see that only Indarias did not struggle. “I am good enough at both even without this kind of practice.”

“Not everyone can just use their elemental abilities to bypass things they’re not used to,” you said as your hold on him tightened a bit before spinning him with you.

“Your leige...!” he yelped.

"Heh, this is why you should let loose for a minute," you said, stopping yourself from spinning before holding him still so he could gain his balance. "With me here, nothing bad would happen."

“What is that supposed to mean...?”

"I DID IT! YEAH!" Bosacius yelled, making you drag Alatus with you to skate towards the electro user Yaksha.

"Woah…! As expected!" you said, one hand on your chin and the other holding Alatus’ hand. "You’re doing well! Did I put up a reward for this?"

“Did my liege say reward?” Menogias looked up.

“I’ll win.”

He remembers being with you when you were catching fishes by using your element to trap the them in ice spheres; he finds himself scoffing at how you had to use your element for simple things.

“You know, I can actually cook!” you said after he scoffed. “I bet I can make you something incredible...! I just need the right ingredients! Hey, maybe the others might like it too!”

"I highly doubt that," he said, his arms crossed in front of him, his spear, that had six fishes, stabbed being supported by his arms. "I can assume that you’d burn everything and attempt to resolve it by using your element."

“It’s the thought that counts!”

Alatus remembers that on the same date he was with you, catching fish was when he realized that the other Yakshas were growing attached to your presence, while he was still stuck thinking you were looking for his weakness.

The tiniest wariness he had of you swayed when he was once standing behind his peers that talked to you about your stories, yet you still noticed him grabbing a scoop of snow, but you suddenly smacked his hand and gave him a long-time scolding before offering to make him food.

“Don’t be afraid! I’m extremely good at this!” you said, stretching both your arms to your fingers as Alatus huffed. “I’ve watched Cloud Retainer do this for so long that I know how to cook!”

"You fed Rex Lapis a spider, your liege…" Indarias commented, floating beside you as Bosacius carried a box for you and accidentally smacked you with it.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you said as Bosacius placed the box down near the bonfire. “Let’s see... what kind of food would Alatus like?”

“I do not to be fed,” the mentioned Yaksha said as Menogias sent him a pitying look.

"Nonsense!" you said as you opened the box. "I grew grumpy when I didn’t eat for days; I cannot leave any of you starving! I’ll cook for everyone!"

Alatus argues with his inner self that he was only accepting the food because you were using tons of ingredients for it, though some were questionable ones, it would still be a waste to decline it.

“We don’t need...” Bonanus spoke up.

"Now where’s my list…" you mumbled, placing your hands in your pockets before creating makeshift pins using your elements to pin the papers on a tree. "Hm… I think any of you would like basically anything but for Alatus… tofu… should’ve borrowed Cloud Retainer’s furnace…"

“I heard that you could cook, your liege,” Bonanus said as she tended to your head.

"Ah, yes! I’ve learned from the Cloud Retainer! We used to eat together, so I learned by watching!" you chimed as you worked on the dish.

“By watching you say...” Menogias sweatdropped.

"One time when Morax was still new to his control over Geo, he accidentally blew dirt on our food, I can remember his face when he was apologizing to the point he insisted on making it better!" you recalled, making the other Yakshas chuckle. "It was an accident, of course! So it was alright! Oh dear, if Morax knew I told you of this, I’d probably be blown away like what he does to Barbatos."

“That... seems not like him,” Indarias commented.

"And ta-da~! Here, Alatus, try this first," you said, your hand on a plate of something moving. "It lacks the other things, but it should still… it should taste nearly the same as that."

You pulled a seat next to Indarias, Bosacius stood behind Alatus, looking down at the dish. Bonanus placed her chin in her palms in curiosity, and Menogias stood beside Alatus.

The pressure he felt from all the attention being on him did not help him in the slightest as you placed the plate on the table and pushed it towards him.

“As what?” Bosacius asked as Alatus nearly turned his head away from the plate.

"Dreams," you responded, making heads turn to you. "Hm… how do I word this? Sometimes, they use the term as ‘Celestia’ or ‘Gods’ when saying something tastes great."

A cover-up; you meant the actual dreams, and Alatus knew because he used to eat dreams, devouring them like he was asked to; he recalled how it pained him, the faces of the innocent he had slain.

Rex Lapis must’ve told you if you knew about the taste of dreams that he craves but has never eaten since he was saved. If he eats the dish you made, would it amplify his craving for it?

He was hesitant and troubled, but who was he to refuse a dish made by a friend of the God who saved him? Or was he just trying to justify his actions as he used the utensil to scoop the food?

"I dislike it a lot when people treat me with authority," you suddenly said. "It’s useful at certain times, but I’d prefer it if it wasn't every day."

Your words averted the attention of the other Yakshas as Bosacius stated, "You don’t look that scary at all, my liege."

"Right~!?" you whined. "It hinders my research when they walk on eggshells around me and give me the response that I want instead of the truth!"

Your complaints made the Yakshas nod, agree, and react to your words, drawing attention away from Alatus, whose hand clenched on the utensil after tasting the dish you said tasted like dreams.

It was easier to digest than actual dreams, and he used to feel guilty to the point that what he ate was at his throat, making him want to throw it up.

— d r i p !

He can satisfy his cravings without eating actual dreams; he may feel bad that he likes the taste of it, but he doesn’t feel as bad as he used to, and he can eat it without harming anyone.

It was weird because he suddenly remembered how he was supposed to be suspicious of you, which brings up the thought that this was perhaps one of your plans to find his weakness.

He contradicts himself, saying, no, he no longer has to think of it like that; he can trust you.

Not with the way you look at him with such tenderness, like you knew what he was going through as Bosacius coddled him, Bonanus asked what the problem was, and basically everyone was fretting over him.

“It must be so bad that Alatus cried,” Bonanus said, looking back at you.

"Who knows?" you laughed and shrugged. "But hey, I’ll still leave the recipe though; I’m that nice. Maybe you’d want to try it out."

“Surely you jest about being excellent in cooking.”

The day was filled with Alatus disagreeing and retorting their words that he did not cry even though everyone, even himself, knew it was a lie.

Maybe ever since that day when he learned that he could trust you, he also started getting the feeling of wanting to get closer to you. If you say you dislike being treated with authority, then he won’t.

Alatus remembers questioning whether you and Menogias were having a quiet conversation that he somehow couldn’t hear as you stitched the purple colored robe together because you kept giggling.

He had to assume that it was one of those odd things you just do because Menogias seemed as confused as he was.

“I should make a device that makes sewing easier,” you commented.

"I have the right idea of what kinds of materials to use for that; it may include a bit of magic, but perhaps we should expand the idea so that people in Liyue could also use it."

Menogias started going on and on, with you indulging him until you finished stitching the robe and even hung it somewhere before the geo user Yaksha would show it to Bosacius.

You stood near the rock Alatus sat on, looking down on the scene where Menogias shows Bosacius the robe that was only applicable to people with two arms.

Formalities are thrown out of the abode as he says, "You’re stupid."

You turn to him, looking at him a bit with wide eyes, before you just laugh and ask, "How am I, exactly?"

“How could you not remember he has four arms?”

"No, I did! I was laughing while stitching the entire thing!" you said, giggling. "I was specifically ordered to make a robe, and Menogias didn’t question me when I was only stitching two sleeves!"

"Then he was the one that had forgotten,” he said, to which you nodded.

"You’re on watch again?" Alatus remembers that this was the first time he initiated a conversation with you.

You sat on a long flat rock that you call a ‘bench’ with a stone table in front of you, and your head was lowered on the paper on top of the said table.

You said, "It’s beneficial for me; I get to watch over all of you while I do what it is I indulge myself in. I just cannot seem to find an answer to something…"

He frowns, like he always does, and chooses to stand behind you, looking down on the sketch of what you were doing — you were making the sewing mechanic that you spoke of with Menogias.

"And the problem?" he asked, making you look up at him with a questioning look. "Don’t… look at me like that; I’m trying to offer choices."

"Sorry," you said, looking back down at the paper. "I made this so it could work even without a vision; it might need a bit of… electro vision but I have that covered. I’ll make something that can store electro magic inside, and then it can work by itself."

“I hear: no answer to my question,” he said, not being able to fully process the information on your notes.

"Needle... everything else is expensive; I want the resources to be saved," you said, pointing at a specific part of the mechanic. "A needle is what we use to poke the clothes so that the thread goes through. It has to be sharp and not easily broken or dull."

“Basically like a bone?”

“A... bone...?” you asked.

"Yes, once sharpened, it could be used as a weapon; it may dull, but once sharpened once again, considering the enemies we’ve slain, it must be easy to acquire without much use of mora and —"

“ARCHONS, ALATUS, YOU’RE A GENIUS!”

He couldn’t process what it meant when you grabbed both his cheeks while saying that, your face close to his, brightened eyes staring at him, but you backed off to write what you heard.

Alatus can’t help but stand back up, his face heating up as if he were embarrassed, something that rarely happens and something that only his fellow Yakshas see.

"I — you..." he chooses to close his mouth after you innocently looked back at him from your paper. "I’m done giving advice. I... was actually here to tell you something that the other Yakshas were talking about."

"Is it something bad?" you asked, stopping yourself from drafting. "I cannot sense anything bad, but I cannot fully just rely on my element. What happened?’

Alatus suddenly thought of how stupid it was that he even got convinced to tell you of this in the first place; the Yakshas wanted you to cook every sixth day of the week.

If you disagree with the what he has to say, he’d have to mention his name or speak from his perspective for you to agree.

”The others were asking if you want to cook for us on the sixth day of every week.”

“If that’s what you want, then make a yubikiri with me again.”

Alatus can’t help but scowl at your response and feel relieved that your response does not seem to change despite how long it has been; you grew in his heart and in the other Yakshas.

You never took advantage of the weaknesses of the Yakshas, and they were never afraid to strike a deal with you; what you wanted for them was their own well-being.

“Then what is it?” he asked.

Alatus was no longer cautious of you, even looking at you with his arms crossed, but you seemed to open your mouth and then shut it again, like you were hesitant.

You pat your cheeks as you turn away from him and say, "This is quite impulsive, and I'm embarrassed to actually tell you what I ask for you in return…"

“The sooner you say what it was, the faster I get the response,” he said as he crossed his arms, settling on looking at your side view.

He unintentionally started taking in your features as if imprinting them in his mind, as if he wanted to remember you — the thought of that suddenly made his heart race.

He scared himself, moving back, making you look back at him in worry and ask, "Are you alright, Alatus?"

It feels troublesome but wasn’t unpleasant, not like the karmic debt that ate away the Yakshas soul and yours; it may have been emotions for all he knew, like that overwhelming feeling when he ate tofu.

“Yes, I... just had a bit of complications, and no, it’s not karmic debt,” he said, for some reason, hiding the actual trouble he felt. “I want a response.”

Thankfully, you didn’t press on as you looked away and huffed, "Is this your way of getting back at me for teasing you before?"

“I don’t understand what you mean," he really does not.

"Just stay there for a while," you said, still not facing him as he noticed your ears began to turn a shade of red. "And just… nothing, just stay there, right where you are, until you’re tired enough to want to sleep."

“Is that an order?” he asked.

“No, it’s... what I want in return.”

"Oh…" he didn’t find your request odd, but you seem to think it was. "Alright then."

"Sorry for having to force you, I just felt a bit of… lonely?" you said like it was a question. "I don’t know, I usually can still have fun while being alone, but now…"

"Have you gotten used to the others?" he asked. He felt the same before the Yakshas were formed.

“Perhaps,” you nodded. “It’s really quite embarrassing, but you can go now if you’d like.”

He thinks you’re a fool for even thinking he’d rather rest than give up the chance of knowing more about you and being of help to you instead of the other way around.

Not that he thinks your stories of Rex Lapis are starting to bore him; he did want to know a lot about the God that saved him, but he also wanted to know about the person who gave him a newfound hope.

"Scooch over," he said, to which you looked at him in surprise. "What? I learn phrases too."

“Yes, but that phrase was years ago,” you said, moving aside for him to sit next to you.

Your words made him think of how long he had been wary of you because he no longer remembers; he cannot even bring himself to think of an image of when he found you dangerous.

You truly made your place in his heart to the point that karmic debt cannot even compare, no incident of karmic debt ever happened, and not one had the Yakshas nor you lost yourselves in the manifested hatred of the Gods.

This brings up your words from before, and if he remembered correctly, they were: “With me here, nothing bad would happen.”

Perhaps it was your impact on them; he has yet to even know the reason as to why the karmic debt was being suppressed.

“You’ve been spacing out, Alatus,” you said, looking at him this time. “I told you that you can go back if you’re tired.”

“I am not,” he says, which you didn’t seem to buy. “I was merely reminiscing.”

“Unlike you, honestly,” you said before letting out a quiet chuckle. “You can lie about being fine, but you can’t seem to lie about anything else.”

"I can... lie if I have to," he says before your hand reaches out to him. "What are you doing?"

"Sure you can," you said in a teasing tone, pinching his cheek once before placing your hand on the side of his head. "If you last a few minutes after lying down, then I’ll believe you."

He didn’t dodge you or even make an attempt to fight against you when you pulled his head down to your lap, his body meeting the stone bench, but he didn't seem to mind it.

Intimacy — he was new to this too, incredibly new and foreign; the new emotions you’re making him feel were already foreign, and now this?

He didn’t know whether to face the table or face your stomach. Archons, he can’t even tell if he’s allowed to shift or not, especially with your hand on top of his head, and he was facing up.

He gulped, “How many minutes?”

"If you’re not worrying about something, I might say seven, but I’ll extend it to ten," you said, looking down at him with a small smile. "Now, now, frowning isn’t going to help."

“Are you not embarrassed?” Alatus asked.

"Of course I am; I was nervous that you might even say that I’m a fool for attempting something like this," you confessed. "But since you’re not, I’m taking that this is alright for you?"

“I’d never insult you.”

"You called me stupid before," you pointed out, almost making him sit up to defend himself, but your hand on his forehead kept him down. "I was merely jesting! You don’t have to say anything, as long as I know it’s a joke, I would never take it as an offense."

"You better," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, still facing up.

“Anyways, you better close those eyes so I win our tiny bet,” you said, your hand on his forehead traveling down to his eyes. “Do you want to put rewards in this bet or just leave it empty?”

“I’ve earned a lot,” he responded, not needing to see you to know that you smiled.

"Satisfaction, such a rare and hard thing to feel, yet you do," you commented. "You’re much… much more than I expected; then again, so are the other Yakshas."

He remembers opening his eyes to first see your jawline and your lips curving into a smile as you talked to someone a bit far from you and him.

You weren’t looking at him when your hand seemed to unconsciously go on his cheek, caressing it, but after your thumb slid over his cheek, you pulled away. He clearly felt the contrast of your skin on his, your calloused hands.

The thought that you feared to touch him came to his mind, but you already knew of his past and still stayed close, so why would you pull away so abruptly?

He sighed loudly enough for you to know that he was awake; you instantly looked down on him with a knowing grin. You were surely going to talk about winning.

"I win —" you said, but he cut you off after noticing what he looked like in your eyes.

“What the...” he mumbled, sitting up after seeing his reflection in your eyes. “Who...!?”

Alatus was referring to the greenish pigment on his face, making Menogias cough on his fist as you shrugged, "I wonder."

"If I find out it was you…" he growled, a hand already reaching your collar, pushing you slightly, your weight depending on his hand as you laughed with both your palms open.

"Maybe…" your cheeks puffed in an attempt to hold back your laughter. "M-Maybe wash it off first…?"

He scoffs, not taking anything much seriously as he lets your collar go, and he hears you laugh as you fall to the ground, reassuring him that you took no offense to what he did too.

"Your liege!" Menogias loudly called, making Alatus turn to you because of the urgency of his voice. "Are you okay!?"

He felt himself stop breathing for a moment after seeing a dark red liquid trickle down your head — most likely the spot that you bumped your head to after falling.

"Uhh — I —" Alatus stammered on his words, not used to inflicting pain on a comrade. "I’m…"

"If you ask me, my head feels cold," you responded before placing a hand on the cold spot as Menogias panicked, calling for Bonanus. "Oh, no wonder; I must be so out of it."

Indarias was the first to arrive though, fretting over you and trying to find where you hit your head before Bonanus arrived to clean up the wound with her element.

“I heard something happened to their liege!” Bosacius arrived last.

“Everyone is such a worrywart,” you sighed as Indarias rolled out the silk gauze. “At least one of you assist Alatus in washing his face after the stunt Bosacius did.”

“It’s usual to worry!” the pyro user Yaksha exclaimed, nearly messing up in wrapping your head. “Sister Bonanus can take care of Alatus.”

“I will not be as gentle,” she mumbled as she faced her hand towards Alatus.

“Do your worst,” he nodded, crossing his arms.

"Be gentle with him, Bonanus!" you said as you tapped the bloodied spot on your head before getting up and leaving. "Oh, I’ll get a towel for him."

"On second thought, I will be," Bonanus said, making Alatus shake his head. "No can do, their liege told me to."

"I say to apologize instead of inflicting pain on yourself," Menogias said, to which Bonanus nodded. "It was an accident; I’m certain they know of that, but it would be nice to get an apology."

“I see what’s going on here,” Bosacius said, catching up. “Yes! It’s easy to say sorry —”

“If you’re not Alatus,” Bonanus added.

"Right! If you’re not Alatus," he said, making Menogias facepalm as Indarias sighs. "But if you’re also Alatus, you know you can do it."

"I’m reminded of Guizhong and Ping having a music battle to the point I flew off," you said, the Yakshas creating space for you as you unfolded the towel in your hands. "They apologized, but I found it amusing more than anything, and it was an accident. I’d rather leave it all behind than hear an apology from them."

You were the one wiping his face with tenderness that he didn’t treat you with.

You, who he hurt, were smiling at him as you said, "So let’s leave it behind, yes? It was not on purpose after all."

“Ep yow inshisht,” he was able to say as you lightly pinch his cheeks to rid off the liquid.

"Oh, you look really cute right now," you offhandedly comment, making the whole group gasp and Alatus flush. "You have plushed cheeks too…"

"I am cute as well, your liege!" Bonanus joined, her hand on her chest as if to refer to herself, making you turn to her and nod.

“Yes, you are.”

"Who’s going to tell him?" Indarias asked, standing behind Menogias and Bosacius, out of earshot. "Archons, look at him!"

"I am not going to break it to him," Menogias says, shaking his head. "Their liege truly must be a godsend if they make Alatus look like that, of all that we know of."

"Are they not godsend?" Bosacius asked. "Or is it the opposite since Rex Lapis sent us to them?"

“Brother...” Indarias sighed.

Bonanus pulled away from you two for a bit and went towards the trio and said, “I felt like I was suffocating because of Alatus.”

“Funny, we were just talking about him,” Menogias said.

"Wait, before anyone goes anywhere, I have an announcement to make," you looked back at them as you hung the towel on your arm. "A letter was delivered by the wind… actually, can everyone hear me from there? This is urgent."

“Yes, my liege,” Bonanus nodded.

You nodded and nonchalantly said, “Alright, so in today’s date, you all get a rest from me being around —”

Alatus whips his head towards you so fast as Menogias raises his hand and says, “Excuse me —”

“Archons, let them continue! This is urgent!” Indarias whispered, pulling his hand down. “You can continue, your liege.”

“No, it’s fine, what was it?” you asked. “We have time.”

“What did you mean by that last part?” Alatus was the one to question.

"To keep it short," you said, pulling an envelope with Rex Lapis' seal hanging on the flap of the envelope. "Yes, if I have to be called, it’s an urgent matter; I have to take a few days leave from here and… resolve the situation."

“How long?” Alatus asked.

“You’re awfully interested,” you commented, being a bit unaware of the other Yakshas starting to question what might’ve happened. “You must want me to leave that badly.”

“You jest, your liege,” Menogias said, chuckling to try to lighten the mood. “Since I assume we’re not allowed to know what happened, could we at least know when you’re going to return?”

“Ah... weeks?”

“WEEKS!?” Indarias blurted.

“It is not your usual battle,” you said.

“It’s a fight!?” Bonanus loudly asked. “Rex Lapis should’ve asked for us too! We specialize in subjugation!”

"As for the time when I’ll come back specifically, I honestly do not know," you said, fiddling with the towel on your arm. "I’m not sure if I’m allowed to say it, but it is related to our current work, just in a different nation."

“When would you leave, your liege?” Bonanus asked.

"Uhm… tonight…?" you answered, but it sounded like a question. "I’m not good with momentarily parting ways with people, can we act as if this were a usual day?"

"Maybe we could place bets on when their liege would be returning," Bosacius offered, to which you perked up and nodded. "I’m saying this week!"

“I get to place a bet here too,” you grinned. “Especially since I don’t know when I’ll be returning.”

"But come back as soon as you’re done. Don’t stay for too long just so you'd win," Bonanus said, frowning. "I’m saying this week..."

“Unrealistic votes, all of you,” Menogias commented, sweatdropping. “You just want them back as soon as possible.”

“It’s nice to know that I’ll be missed at least,” you chuckled.

"Then I’m changing my vote to two weeks," Bonanus said. "Whoever wins gets something from everyone."

“I vote three,” Indarias joined in.

“This is too difficult with the little information we have,” Menogias commented. “A battle could last for years for all we know... especially if it includes something similar to this, we’ve already been together for nearly centuries. I’m saying a year.”

“I’m voting three days,” you said.

“Three — I thought you said weeks!” Bosacius instantly said making you chuckle.

"Well, I’m the one fighting, so as long as I make it quick, I can come back as quick," you shrugged. "What about you, Alatus?"

“A week.”

Alatus wonders how the rest got to sleep that day after saying their goodbyes to you; was he the only restless one that he had to leave and take a breather outside the tent?

He also just had to see you outside, bags beside you, as you sat in the same place you did the day before, looking down on the same paper.

Despite saying goodbyes before they went to sleep, you stayed outside as if waiting for the clock to strike at the time you had to leave instead of leaving earlier.

“You’re still here?” he asked.

"Not to be a pessimist, but if I die, it’d take time to finish this," you said, hand on chin, as you continued to write notes on how to make the sewing mechanic. "I’m just writing it to whoever discovers this in the future or something."

“Why do you sound so sure?” he frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

"It was a joke…" you said, blinking as you turned to look at him. "Don’t take it so seriously. I’m merely feeling a bit nervous about leaving."

"That’s not merely," he said, folding his arms in front of him. "You can tell me about it."

“Am I not dumping you with enough information?” you asked, moving over to the side of the bench.

“No,” Alatus responded, taking a seat beside you. “Speak freely.”

"For some reason, that was just comforting," you said, letting out a small laugh before turning your head to the scenery. "I’m just thinking about the karmic debt. It’s something we might never be free of."

"Yet you choose to involve yourself in it," he says, making you raise a brow as if to ask him how he knew. "Rex Lapis implied it."

"I’m really going to give that old goon a smack," you mumbled under your breath, and he blinked at your informality. "Ah, sorry, Morax and I have gotten used to jokingly calling each other stupid names, do not take offense."

It would be a lie to say he was not bewildered, but he said, "I… do not mind…"

"Anyways, failed hypothesis after failed hypothesis, there is nothing certain about karmic debt except for the fact that only one of the Sevens could help the ones affected by it," you said, opening a hand to your side as you turned to him. "To be exact, Morax didn’t exactly help, but Barbatos’ music did."

You continue, “In short, it's irreversible so take care of yourselves.”

“I understand, I’ll relay it to the others.”

“How about you?” you asked, going back to working on the paper. “Do you have anything to say, Alatus?”

“I don’t... know,” he said, adding the last word before he finishes his sentence. “I am not like you; I don’t know what to say in situations.”

“Me neither,” you laughed. “Like you, I am not good with feelings, and all I could say is to take care of yourselves.”

“You take... care too,” Alatus said, pausing midway. “[name].”

“Should I start calling you Xiao?” you asked, smiling as you continue writing. “Or is Morax only allowed to call you that?”

"I am named Xiao, Alatus might be my real name, but it’s only now for when I’m a Yaksha," he said, making you nod to yourself as you write. "Can I also ask for your wise words?"

"If you want that —" he dreaded your next words, and it seemed evident on his face because you laughed. "It's what I’d normally start with, but since it might just be my last day, I’ll indulge you. You worded it funnily."

You meant you weren’t sure if you were going to come back, so you might as well give it away for free. He knows.

He had given you his attention willingly, so if you were to ask for something as well, he’d think it'd be fair, and hearing about what you think is something he also wanted.

What exactly prompted him to ask that? It was because he wanted answers about what he feels.

"Have you ever had a moment where you felt like you were… too happy to the point you’re out of it?" he asked, to which you nodded. "Why is that?"

“It’s called feeling relaxed, Xiao,” you chuckled.

“If it was relaxed, is it normal for the heart to palpitate?”

“Palpitate...” you sweatdropped at the wording. “I mean... it happens often, did this moment happen with the Yakshas?”

"It does, but I’m thinking of a person," he says, shaking his head. "Do I have to specify who?"

"No, I think I understand enough," you shake your head as well. "I need to ask a few more questions; this topic is out of my expertise, but I know a few; do you feel fond of them to the point you’re often nervous around them, but it’s also calming to be with them?"

“I — yes, exactly that,” he nodded, slightly brightening up that you understand.

"How will I word this to you…" you look down in thought with a hand on your chin. "You might deny and claim that it’s false; I don’t think you’ll accept it as quickly as if it’s an order."

“Is it a bad thing? Do I keep my distance?”

"Keep your what — no!" you said, flabbergasted. "From what I’ve observed, you are the same, it seems like what you feel does not hinder your work as a Yaksha and if they make you happy, why would you feel the need to distance yourself? If anything, I should tell you to be closer to them."

"Then… is it a bad feeling if they disturb me?" he asked, and you stared at him for a while as if telling him to elaborate. "Like when… I see them and think how they blend in so well with everything — I'm starting to feel like everything is unreal when I’m with them."

“Xiao.”

“Yes?”

“Xiao, that’s love,” you said.

Alatus mind seemed to pause for a moment; you just said: love, a well-known mortal feeling that causes people to do illogical things.

It seemed like you were not wrong either because he finds the feeling he was describing to you unreasonable as well, but he doesn’t understand; he’s no mortal, emotions are foreign to him, and more so if it’s about love.

"You mean those mortal feelings — it can’t be," he said, making you only smile as if you predicted he’d deny it. "I’m not capable of feeling that kind of thing."

"Be it that you are not in a human body, what they feel is almost what we do; it’s our brain, nervous system, and such," you said. "Love is not always romantic; you might like them as a friend, as someone you can trust like you do with the other Yakshas —"

“It’s worthless,” he scowls.

"If you see their effect on you, can you really say it is?" you asked, looking away from him and leaning back with your arms supporting you. "I’ve lived for so long, and when I first felt a romantic kind of love, it was… confusing, I denied it, thinking it was only because I pity him — oh, I pronoun dropped him."

“Then you feel it too?” he asked. “Even if you’re... not exactly human?”

"Of course," you nodded. "For example, I love Morax and the Yakshas because I think of them as my friends, but I also love this someone because I find him interesting or because he’s like someone I’ve been unconsciously waiting for."

“What else?”

"Hm… like even though he’s so different from me, I feel like we kind of complete each other kind of thing, embarrassing to talk about, I know," you laughed at yourself, and he assumed in pity. "He looks incapable of feeling romantic love. He cannot express himself properly, but he certainly tries and keeps trying just so the people around him know that he does care."

“Have you seen him at all ever since?” he asked.

“I see him everyday,” you laughed. “But enough about him, what about yours?”

“They love everyone,” Alatus said. "They… treat everyone so equally, and it’s such a harder thing to swallow that they think of someone else the way I see them."

“You admit that what you feel is love?” you asked.

“What else could it be?” he huffs, making you place a hand in front of your mouth as you giggle. “If your judgment is right, then what should I do?”

“What do you think you should do?” you returned the question, emphasizing the third to the last word.

He asks himself the same question; his feelings are confirmed, but another hurdle comes up: they seem to like another.

Alatus wants to tell you that the feelings he had for you were suffocating him, that it was always on the tip of his tongue whenever you're in his line of sight.

You treat everyone so equally, but to think you feel so fondly over another, you, who had been stuck with them ever since — wait, you see him every day — it felt even more painful to think it was one of his brothers.

“What if,” he started, nearly choking on his words. “They like someone?”

“Did they tell you who?” you asked.

“No... I —” he stammered. “I don’t know, they don’t show it, I told you, they love everyone but still I want to tell them.”

"Quite suffocating, no?" you asked, your head tilting as you gave him a pitying smile. "Whether you tell them or not is your decision, you’re not at fault for having those kinds of feelings."

“What if they’re the opposite of you?” Alatus asked.

“You’re so... insecure,” you sighed, your gaze softening. “Some say opposites attract, but either way, if you love them, you love them.”

“Why do you love Rex Lapis?”

“Why not? He’s my friend,” you said, raising a brow before your eyes widened. “You’re not thinking I love him in a romantic way, are you...!? Xiao, of all people — was I not just talking about smacking him earlier? He’s old...!”

“So are you,” he retorted making you gasp.

"I look young, don’t I? I can still move, unlike him!" you defended yourself as you put a hand on your chest. "Morax is a friend! He’s like a brother to me, seeing him as something else is something I cannot fathom!"

Rex Lapis is like a brother to you, is it just him or did it seem like you just went straight out of his league?

“I... I see,” he said, feeling highly discouraged. “Rex Lapis, brother... I cannot...”

“For a moment, Xiao, are you perhaps...” you started, seemingly finally collecting the dots. “Do you like Morax —”

“No!” he exclaimed, making you withdraw but laugh after. “It’s not like that... it’s not him.”

"If it’s not Morax, why do you hesitate so?" you asked, tilting your head. "You respect Morax so much; to respect someone near him makes it seem like… it’s someone you've known for so long."

You’re catching up quick but you suddenly stood up and said, “It seems like I won’t be much of a help after all...”

“You’re going?” he asked, getting up as well.

“It is an urgent matter,” you said, rolling the paper closed before tossing it towards his way. “You can tell Menogias to keep it.”

“[name], I —” what did he want to say?

He closed his mouth, not seeing your hopeful look; he doesn’t remember what he wanted to say but at the same time he does, perhaps he didn’t want to say it.

He ends up scoffing, “Take care...”

"You know, I'm kind of starting to assume it might be me because why do you sound so bitter right now?" you asked, laughing as he turned to you, who had caught up to everything, or perhaps you gambled your pride. "Am I right?"

“You...” he feels his ears heat up.

"I’d say yes to you, but we’ll leave that until you’re ready and until I’m back, so… wait for me?"

“Be it years, I would.”

THIS IS HEIZNX, HEHEHE REPOST, I'M BACK SA TUMBLR (after deleting my old acc) had to study how to change text colors. mc was supposed to die but it got too long, in my old acc, i made it to 3 parts, but i realized i didn't want to kill mc and it was too much information rather than the romance between them and xiao so i decided to drop the sequel.

#genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact alatus #xiao #xiao x reader #alatus #alatus x reader

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heiznx · 2 years ago

Note

THE KUNI/SCARA SOULMATE AU IS SO CUTE

HI IT TOOK ME A WHILE TO RESPOND KSI I DONT KNOW HOW TO SAY THANK YOU :( AJDFBADJFBABGHJGB THANKS <33

#heiznx. hehehe.

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heiznx · 2 years ago

Text

PRINCESS ARRIVAL — I

∗༝*◦✦ it's neige's first time meeting you yet he hopes you would already see him more than just a stranger or an acquaintances.

BEFORE READING, this contains light cursing, slight yandere behavior and all that goes with it.

|| NEXT▶ || ︎ HEADCANONS ||

Neige LeBlanche, you quite dislike him.

On your first arrival to Twisted Wonderland, you knew nothing about him until you went out with some of the Night Raven College and saw it: his face on keychains, stickers on people's tumblers, and his name embroidered on tote bags.

Cater was the first to actually introduce him to you, and he did so by showing you a video that was blocked by an advertisement that featured Neige LeBlanche.

Vil was the second when he spoke of Neige during practice, and Rook described him as someone who has rose-red lips, glossy ebony hair, and an endearing smile that could charm anyone (his words, not yours).

You didn't dislike him because he did anything wrong; you were just biased because it saddened you to know that Vil sees himself as less than who he actually is.

Grim looked at you with a face expressing betrayal after the headmaster informed him that he had to stay in class while you had to fetch example materials from the bookstores near the island—you just couldn't say no.

At the moment, you were looking around, trying to recognize the place you were in and connecting it with the map in your hands; you didn't want to get lost in the unfamiliar world or, worse, taken.

You took many mental notes of your surroundings. You can see a black-haired student walking in front of you, holding hands with what you assumed was a dwarf, and there were many red-roofed stalls.

Your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out what they were selling before you heard someone loudly yelling, "Hey! Watch it!"

Now that made you even more cautious than you were since the sound was too close and it seemed like it was directed at you when it was truly for the student and the dwarf in front of you.

It was fast; you saw the student falling back towards you, and you automatically moved your map to be held by the fingers of your dominant hand before extending your hands forward.

Oh, and that you caught him.

The problem was that you didn't catch him like how the main character gets caught by the love interest; it wasn't the arm around the shoulders—no—you caught him by hooking your arms below his.

You nearly staggered, not taking the weight of the student into account as you did with the entire scenario. Your eyes caught the red text on his sailor hat that was askew and embroidered on it: "Someday My Princess Will Come", and then you noticed him staring at you.

You suddenly thought of Rook's words about how Neige LeBlache had rose-red lips and black hair as ebony; you had no idea why you looked at his parted lips like he was surprised, but it was in your line of sight.

"Neige! Are you okay?" the short gray-haired dwarf asked as you pulled up the student to his feet. "Oh…! Thank you so much!"

"It was just my impulse…" you smiled, albeit nervously. "More importantly, is your friend okay?"

The ebony-haired student hasn't moved ever since he landed in your arms earlier; you can only see his back, and not even his shoulders looked like they were moving, like he wasn't breathing.

"Neige!" the dwarf called a bit loudly.

This time, you heard the name of the person you caught loud and clear: Neige, like the actual Neige LeBlanche, the artist Neige LeBlanche.

So that's why you suddenly remembered Rook, because his description of Neige LeBlanche was accurate, and that made you try to gaslight yourself, though it was obviously futile.

"I…" your voice broke, so you had to quietly clear your throat first. "I'm really sorry if I spooked your friend in any way, but I can't stay much longer since I have errands to run for our headmage."

The dwarf looked at you, giving you a polite smile before saying, "That's alright, thank you for—"

"Or we could assist you!" Neige suddenly spoke, surprising both you and the dwarf, and it seemed like he just recently started breathing again. "Ah! I didn't mean to frighten you…!"

"No, no, it's not like that! I just got surprised," you tried to reassure him immediately since it was part of your personality. "But… are you two not busy as well? I'm assuming you two are from the Royal Sword Academy."

"Are you perhaps from Night Raven College?" the dwarf asked, to which you nodded with a small smile. "What a coincidence! You see, we are on our way to buy supplies for our props, so if you're on your way to the same place, perhaps we could travel together?"

"I mean..." you uttered as you looked down, hesitant.

You took note of how the dwarf didn't seem to hold any resentment towards you, even though you're from the other side of the island, not to mention that Royal Sword Academy was a school that your school considers their rival.

"I believe we could at least introduce ourselves; I'm Dominic," the dwarf said, placing a hand on his chest and bowing towards you as a greeting. "I'm a second-year student at Royal Sword Academy."

"I see... I'm [name]," you said, and you contemplated extending your hand, but you were already doing it before you knew it. "I'm from NRC... and... I'm a third year."

"Neige, Neige LeBlanche! I'm a third-year too!"

He immediately grabbed your hand before Dominic could, but no one could say a thing since he was smiling brightly and gleaming, and you felt yourself being drawn in for a bit—he was almost similar to Kalim.

However, you tensed a bit when Neige placed his other hand on the back of yours, sandwiching your hand as he shook it, but to be polite, you gave him an eye-closed smile and a nod, expecting him to let go in a bit.

"Neige..." Dominic looked at him, making Neige look at Dominic too, and the dwarf gestured towards his hands that were sandwiching yours.

"Ahh! I'm sorry!" Neige released his hold immediately, placing his hands behind him to try and ease your discomfort. "I zoned out, I'm sorry!"

"No... it's fine," you responded hesitantly as you looked down at your hand. "Uhm, please do lead the way, I'm still... new in this place."

"Of course!" Dominic said, trying to ease your discomfort too. "Let's look for supplies in the bookstore!"

Neige was so nice that you just continued being wary of him since you weren't used to seeing someone that nice in Twisted Wonderland unless you were facing Kalim or Ortho.

It wasn't just his kindness and soft-spoken voice that made you feel that way; it was also because he seemed to be staring at you awfully much.

You had the supplies Crowley wanted at hand, but you find yourself wishing you could buy some supplies you've been eyeing, but alas, using the headmage money can cause drawbacks.

Maybe you should've accepted Neige's offer when he said he'd pay for what you bought, but that seems like you're taking advantage of his naivety.

Dominic was still in line, three people away from the cashier, so you engrossed yourself at the shelves where the books are, skimming through the titles and summaries.

"Do you like that book, [name]-san?"

His voice just popped out of nowhere, and you tensed a bit before relaxing yourself with your finger on top of the book as you looked back at Neige, who smiled at you innocently.

Perhaps you've grown to have a soft spot for Neige, but only a little bit—just a tiny little bit—because he was so nice to you despite only meeting you today and he was so attentive towards you; it felt overwhelming, but you weren't voicing your concerns, so you assume it was partly your fault.

"How many times are you going to ask that?" you chuckled as you pulled out the book from the shelf and looked at the cover. "Well... it has an interesting cover and title, but I'm just browsing."

You flipped the book to look at the summary on the back, your eyes scanning over it—oh, it has one of those famous troupes back in your world.

It's to be expected that there are transmigration books with long titles that have an obsessive love interest and a second lead that's chasing after the main character, who ends up with the so-called unexpected love interest.

The familiar plot is making you look back at the similar books you've read before, so you looked at the price to see if it was affordable, and to your not-really-shock, it was not.

"Didn't you want that?" he asked after seeing you return the book to the shelf after reading the summary.

"It has an interesting title and all..." you trailed off a little since you were overthinking the placement of the book a little, not sure if you got it there or the book beside it. "It has an interesting troupe that I'm familiar with, but I don't recommend it to you."

To him, who was looking at you with an innocent beam, one who can take all the words you say despite their harshness and might even see them in a positive light.

Now that you think about it, some obsessive people in what you read started off like that too; they were easily manipulated—you suddenly broke off your trail of thought because you're questioning yourself about why you were thinking about Neige in that way.

"Why not?" he asks, looking both curious and a bit surprised. "It can't be bad since you seem to be familiar with it, what is the book about?"

"It's something about—" you try to find a better word to hide the meaning of the book, so you grab the book to read it again while your mind works to paraphrase it. "The love interest likes the main character a bit more than usual."

"There are... boundaries to being interested in someone?" Neige asks, as you want to start sobbing in your mind because his tone sounded like he was completely oblivious to what you were talking about.

"I suppose it depends on morality," you said, steadying your voice as you returned the book, thinking of creating an example in which he recognizes it, but you don't want to trigger anything about him since you know nothing about him. "Let's say... someone likes someone too much to the point they cause pain to them and also to other people."

"In terms of... being too much..." Neige says, the side of his index finger near his lips, and you nodded a little to encourage him to continue, though you were digging yourself a grace in your mind. "In your own words... what is too much?"

You were taken aback. He was so innocent about the topic, and he could've asked for different things, such as why you thought the summary was interesting or why you were familiar with such a topic.

What answer should you even give to that personal question? It was opinionated, but you don't know what to say since you can't form coherent words at that moment.

"Is there anywhere you have to stop by, [name]-san?"

Dominic was back. You and Neige both looked at him, but you'll formulate an answer in your mind later because that question isn't really your priority anymore.

Your focus was on Dominic's question because it reminded you that yes, you do have something to do, and you had to buy ingredients for Vil's smoothie since his supply ran out and the cafeteria was a no for him.

"I do," you nodded a little, not noticing the way Neige lit up at your response. "What I need is near Night Raven College so I can manage on my own since your school is on the opposite... side of where I'm going."

"That..." Neige spoke first, the light in him dimming, but he remained smiling as you gave him an apologetic smile. "That's a shame."

"But it was nice to have you around," the dwarf said, to which you blinked surprised, causing him to laugh. "We hope to see you during the competition."

"And I wanted to get to know you a bit more," the other said, making you turn to him just to see him taking out his phone, and it's obvious what's going to happen next. "Could we share contacts, [name]-san?"

You hesitated because, as you think right now, you can't imagine what you were going to talk about with Neige—the Neige LeBlanche at that.

"I don't have a personal one..." you responded, growing a bit nervous.

The two blinked fast at your response, trying not to be too rude about their surprised reactions because even they have one despite their poor background.

Neige clearly remembers your words about how you weren't even from the island you're on, and he remembers how you said you were running errands for Night Raven College's headmage, who sent you out without a phone.

"That was delivered poorly..." you said after a few seconds of silence, fumbling to get out the phone the headmage lent. "The headmage lent me one, but it's not mine, so I'm not sure if I can..."

"Ah, that could work," Neige smiled, albeit calmly, as he extended his hand towards you. "May I?"

Nodding, you clicked on the contacts and handed it to him, watching as he tapped your number on his phone instead of the other way around.

"I'm surprised you don't have your own phone..."

"Ah, well..."

"I don't mean anything bad by it... What's more surprising is that it's lent by the headmage himself."

"Shit," you thought; perhaps you shouldn't have let that information slip. "It was for emergency purposes."

Neige hands you the phone back and smiles, "I'll see you again soon, [name]-san."

"Stay safe!"

"Oh! You too!"

A frown spread on your face as you paused the music under Vil's command, looking down on the first years that tried to catch their breath from practicing too much while the second years were used to exerting that much energy.

You grabbed the towels and their respective water bottles before handing them to the dancers; to your amusement, the first years chugged it down as VIl sighed.

"Did you see that?" Vil asked, gesturing to the first years as Rook praised them despite their movements not being up to the model's standards. "Manager."

"If balance is the problem, not to assume because of their structure, but won't heels be a good training method?" you asked, looking up to the model as you tried to block out Rook's words. "The first year's posture and flow are—"

— r i n g !

Horror plastered on your face immediately as you looked away from Vil and down to the headmage's phone in your pocket, which you grabbed immediately.

After your encounter with the students from the Royal Sword Academy and knowing that Neige took your number, you've been anxiously waiting for the call, not wanting to miss it because you didn't want to be the one to call back and start a conversation.

"Take it outside, manager," Vil said, to which you nodded and scurried away immediately, making the Ace and Deuce raise a brow. "What's with that reaction?"

"Ah, well—we thought we were the only contacts the prefect had," Deuce said.

"In reference to the break before the whole competition thing, I was sure we were," Ace agreed, nodding his head as he stood up. "You know what this means, Juice?"

"We don't have time for gossip," Vil cuts in before anything else, making the first years tense up as the model held up a heel. "Wear these."

Ace stared jaw-dropped as Deuce started sweating nervously at the thought of wearing one, and Epel couldn't tell whether to deadpan or laugh at the reaction of the two because Epel was already used to it.

You answered the phone on your way out of the ballroom, just in time to see Riddle walking in with the papers in hand, his heels clicking.

"Good afternoon, prefect," the prefect greeted, his posture perfect compared to your trembling hands that couldn't even put the call on hold. "Am I allowed to enter?"

"Of course, Vil-san and the rest are inside; just don't forget to knock," you said before looking at the phone and placing it near your ear, which made Riddle get the idea that you can't talk for long. "I think you're the exact person they need to see, Riddle-san."

Your words made the Heartslabyul prefect chuckle a little before commenting, "Your mind works wonders."

— c l i c k !

You swear that right after you were talking, the phone fell before another person from Neige's line suddenly talked about cosmetics and also before the call suddenly got cut short.

The ebony-haired student picked up the fallen phone, a red hue covering his pale cheeks, almost matching the color of his lips, before he wiped the screen of his phone.

He sees that the call has already ended, making him softly frown before he notices the notification that pops up suddenly; it was from you, asking if he was okay.

Of course he was okay! He felt more than okay, because not only did he get to call you, he also learned a bit about you, and he got to hear you laugh—and it was all in one day.

The makeup artist stared in horror, fussing over the phone that fell earlier as Neige only lightly trembled in excitement, his lips quivering as he stared at your contact that didn't have a photo or a name that fit the way he sees you.

The happiness he felt could rival the times he read R's letters or when he saw his supporters. He sighs, feeling disappointed that he heard of it through the phone and that the call also ended quickly.

He's fuming, but he had to calm down.

In your eyes, Neige was a stranger, yet you were so nice to him when you two first met, reassuring him many times that he wasn't at fault whenever he made you nervous.

Riddle did interrupt you two early on during the call, but you remained polite, even greeting the dorm leader before you made time for Neige himself.

The point was that you were nice to strangers, and there's no doubt that you'd remain nice to the makeup artist who disturbed your conversation with him, right?

"Alright, let me type something, and then we can continue with the finishing touches," Neige smiled sweetly, looking back down on his phone. "Oh, and could you get something for me in the bookstore and at the mall?"

"O-Of—"

"On second thought, I can do it," Neige cuts off immediately as he happily types. "It would have much more sentimental value that way, right? What phone model is the latest one today?"

Neige blinked at the crying emoji, wondering what he did wrong or if it was serious; he hasn't interacted with people as much on social media, so what you send confuses him.

Did he make you cry already? Was there something wrong with what he sent you?

Nevertheless, you wished him success, and his heart warmed at that. It was probably how you normally text people, yet he yearned to make you see how he stands out in your view of people.

"I can't wait..." Neige smiles as he turns off his phone before turning towards the makeup artist. "For now, I'll work hard until you see me as someone more than someone you just met."

THIS IS HEIZNX, this was an idea i wrote in my notebook, i stressed over the colors sm. there's supposed to be more, like the scene with deuce and epel on the beach (?) part near RSA, and yuu called for neige's help since he's famous. the relationship progressed and all, but mc suddenly stopped replying to neige, because of the book 6 events. i'm imagining vil having an interview with neige and vil brought mc along so they could apologize to neige. they were able to, but neige starts voicing his self-loathing and how he felt sad and all that, and yuu was guilt tripped to being in a romantic relationship with him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst neige #neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere neige #yandere neige leblanche

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