ivy-elle

[ivy-elle]

Tainted Hearts

The door isn’t locked when he knocks. As if you’ve been expecting him.  

Scaramouche scoffs and a muttered “Idiot” falls from his lips at your lack of safety and self-preservation. He pushes the door open, eyebrow rising as he looks inside. “Y/n?”

When he doesn’t spot you right away, he takes a slow step inside your apartment, using the heel of his shoe to shut the door back close. His hand wanders into the pockets of his pants, while he takes in your apartment.

“Y/n!” He calls again, his eyes sweeping slowly around the interior. This is the first time he’s in here. And it’s definitely more chaotic than he’d imagined. The clothes littered on the floor fit the aesthetic of the room as much as your desk. His eyes fall on the half-empty coffee cup, still adorned by your lipstick stain, but now the dark liquid is surrounding it on the surface. Just as he’s about to step closer, his fingers itching somehow, your voice calls from the adjacent room.

“In the bathroom!”

Scaramouche scorns, turning in your direction. “You’re still not done?” And while he’s irritated, his voice comes out less harsh than expected.

He clears his throat.

“I’ve spilt some bloody coffee on my clothes and had to change,” you reply, sounding more frustrated than he feels himself. “And I thought I told you, to come by later anyway. Now you have to suffer your own consequences.”

“Is that why you left the doors unlocked? I knew you to be foolish and yet, I’m surprised.”

“It’s because your impatient ass always arrives way too early.”

Scaramouche crosses his arms, while his eyes take in the rest of your room. “And what, precisely is it, that’s taking you so long? We’ll be late.”

“The outfit I ruined was perfect and now nothing else feels right anymore.”

Scaramouche lifts some figurine from the shelf, absentmindedly spinning it in his hand. “Who cares what you look like? It’s not a wedding.” Despite his words, he’s yet to see you in an unbefitting outfit. Almost immediately he banishes the thought into the back of his mind. “Just pick whatever.”

A dry laugh, then - “We’re still going out for dinner, it doesn’t matter if it’s just our friends.”

Friends? Scaramouche hums lowly. “Most of them are barely tolerable. At best.”

When he finally hears the door opening, he sets the figurine back and turns to you. To his utter embarrassment (as well as frustration) he feels his breath falter for a second.

But you don’t seem to take notice.

“Is your car close by?” you ask instead while swiftly grabbing some stuff and putting it into your bag.

Scaramouche gathers himself, his frown deepening. “You should finally get yourself a car. I’m not your personal taxi driver.”

The intended irritation in his voice subsides more into absentmindedness as his eyes drift along your outfit and take in the way it looks on you.

“Scara?”

He directs his eyes back up and meets yours. “What?” he huffs, feeling somehow caught.

“I asked if you think this might be too much?” Your eyes sweep down your body. “Maybe I should wear the other blouse.”

The way you tug on your clothes, the way you suddenly avoid his eyes causes his fingers to twitch once more. He hides them in the pockets of his pants.

His answer, when it comes, is blunt. “No.”

 “No?”

“Basic is boring. You’re good.”

You meet his eyes. He turns halfway towards the door, straightening his collar. “Now can we leave? Or your taxi driver might demand remuneration.”

Your lips twitch amused but you comply nonetheless and follow him out of your apartment. “Have I ever mentioned how impatient you are?”

“You better consider yourself lucky someone cares about your public presentation.”

“Oh, so very lucky, indeed.”

“Is that sarcasm I’m detecting?”

“I would never.”

When you leave, Scaramouche makes sure the door is locked properly this time.

[ivy-elle]

So are we ready to admit the world is doomed yet <3

No cuz I'm not a little bitch

[ivy-elle]

If this pops up while you’re scrolling, I wish you unconditional love and massive success.

[ivy-elle]

“spam liking will get you blocked” spam liking will get you a kiss on the mouth

[ivy-elle]

FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT TRUMP DID NOT SAVE TIKTOK!! THIS WAS ALL A STUNT TO MAKE HIM LOOK GOOD!!

PAY ATTENTION TO WHATEVER HAPPENS NEXT!!

[ivy-elle]

What am I to you?

A ghosted question that echoes back and forth and bounces off every crevice his touch on your soul has left behind.

You watch as he bristles. As the cold returns to his eyes, then flickers, as if gauging for notorious preservation. And then the hardness diminishes.

His expression eases. And his soul follows.

What am I to you?

You ask but never speak, and yet, he answers every time

My love

My life

My reason

[ivy-elle]

Just realized I'd never introduced my Genshin OCs so here is a post all about them! Ellzara on the left, Almira on the right. They are Inazuma-born conjoined twins in an AU whereby the people aren't aware of Makoto's death, but know of her existence, and see the Twin Gods as one single ruling Archon. For this reason Ell and Mira are seen as a symbol of good fortune and the Archon's benevolence. There are lots of legends about them and their supposed divine powers, but they're just really two ordinary young women who happen to share a body!

Almira is more outspoken, extraverted, and takes great pride in her nation and what she represents to her people. She received her Vision as a teenager and is the only one who can use it (contrary to the rumour locals all believe which says that the twins supposedly share a Vision).

Ellzara is more outwardly calm, but inwardly very brooding and melancholy. She resents having been born in a nation that reveres her as a saint, and wishes for a more normal life, including seeking advice from the Akademiya regarding whether she and her sister could ever be surgically separated, much to Almira’s chagrin.

Almira loves Inazuma's Tonkatsu Ramen, Ellzara likes trying new foods and her favourite so far is Mondstadt Grilled Fish!

**do NOT tag as body horror if you reblog**

[ivy-elle]

“This is not gonna happen”

Or: How He Defends/ Protect You

Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche

Albedo

The sunset is already about to start while you hurry through the streets of Mondstadt, trying to avoid any of the Knights of Favonius in case you get talked off by them.

You’re supposed to meet up with Albedo in front of the city to watch the sunset at the cliff – or rather, Albedo wanted to paint and had invited you to keep him company. Only, your work has held you up longer than expected and now you fear Albedo has either gone without you or, poor guy has been waiting all alone by the bridge.

“By Barbatos! Are you completely-“ You come to a shrieking halt at the same moment a middle-aged man stumbles a few steps backwards, clutching his chest in shock.

Swallowing back a curse you hastily squat down to reach for the firewood he dropped in his distress. “I’m so sorry, Simon. Are you alright?”

“Am I-?”

When you glance back up, you’re surprised by how red his face has turned. Perhaps ‘alright’ wouldn’t be a suited term indeed.

“Say, are you out of your mind! How dare you startle me that immensely?”

Slowly, you rise back up, the woods now secure in your arms.

“Have you got not manner – You should be ashamed of yourself!”

While Simon keeps insulting you, you are admittedly a bit taken aback by his sudden outburst. Of course, it’s not nice to be startled out of now where but – no need to act so harsh, right?

But when he keeps raising his voice and is now basically screaming straight into your face, you get back on track and steady yourself, because how dare he just treat you like that?

“Sir, there is no need to shout” you interfere his triage of rage, feeling your own anger rising, “I can hear you quite well. Besides, no huge enough damage has been done to justify losing one’s civil tongue.”

Simon's eyes flash in fury at your words. “Civil tongue? Have you lost the last of your senses? You should be begging for forgiveness for me not to report the incident to the Knights of Favonius.”

Before your frustration gets the chance to slip through your lips in a way less than civilised response, you feel the gentle touch hand on your shoulder.

“Excuse me. Is something the matter here?”

It’s only when you turn and see Albedo at your side, do you also notice some bystanders who have stopped at the commotion and are now exchanging curious glances.

Great. This is gonna be the talk of town tomorrow.

But despite the situation, Albedo’s presence has its usual calm effect upon you, and you feel your anger settle. A bit at least.

Even Simon seems to paddle back and settle down in his current outburst.

Albedo’s eyes find yours, searching for answers he probably already concluded himself. “Are you alright?”

You nod slowly. “I’m alright.”

His eyes sweep over you once more, before he turns to Simon. “Sir, has there any harm come to you or any of your goods?”

Simon huffs, crossing his arms defiantly. “As far as I can tell, the woods are fine.” Only then does he seem to realise you’re still holding said woods in your arms and his eyes dart to you, narrowing. 

As if sensing another upcoming dispute, Albedo subtly steps in front of you, before declaring in his own appeasing and soft-spoken manner, “While I understand your discomposure, Sir,” he states and you notice his voice also contains a certain firmness, “it is not right to treat your opponent with such approach. It will fuel only more ire, and the outcome won’t serve any of the parties.”

You keep your eyes on Simon, watching the different emotions swirl through his face. Anger, frustration, confusion, and then something akin to disappointment. He nods slowly, but also a bit taken aback by Albedo’s calm demeanour, not knowing where to disseminate his emotions now.

Simons huffs again, almost unsure how to react, so he grabs the wood out of your arms, while deliberately avoiding looking at you and grumbles. “Alright, well, uh, I might’ve just lost my nerves there.”

 “I apologise for startling you," you respond to which he nods once, still avoiding your gaze. His eyes dart to Albedo before clutching his wood and stomping off.

Albedo, who notices the bystanders starting to whisper to each other, gently takes your wrist and guides you past the gates, to the outskirts of town.

The sun is already setting as you stroll quietly along the bridge. You feel his hand on the small of your back, gently leading you forwards.

After a while Albedo breaks the silence. “I apologize if I overstepped by interfering in the dispute. But I did not appreciate the way Simon talked to you, let alone reacted to the incident.”

“I think you handled it fairly eloquent.” A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you glance at him from the side. “The People of Mondstadt are all prone to temper their anger at your demeanour. You’re quite liked among them.”

Albedo gives a soft, amused huff, meeting your eyes. “My dear, I believe you are merely biased in that matter.”

Scaramouche

“With all due respect, Ma’am, but I’ve already been assigned a different role for this mission.”

Your superior Nomura regards you with a sharp look – not even your averted eyes could alleviate the goosebumps crawling down your skin.

“We’ve established this change of plan to be the best strategy, Agent. Are you refusing your duty?”

“No, Ma’am.” You cross your arms formally behind your back, trying to keep your frustration at bay. It’s not unusual for you to be subjected to whatever hell she offers, but normally she at least knows to inform you in an appropriate timing about something as important as that.

“However, I would require time to assess the new circumstances and gather the needed information.”

Nomura tightens her lips as if she’s annoyed by your presence alone. “That won’t be necessary. We do not have the time, and I believe your skills to be sufficient to assess the situation when it arises. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Again, you keep your voice neutral and expression unbothered while you watch her return to the rest of the divisions, which are waiting by the river.

Archons, why couldn’t Nomura inform you earlier? But alas. At least she has trust in your skills.

You huff quietly to yourself as you head to your new division, however Scaramouche’s sudden presence next to you holds you back. How can this man be so fast all the time?

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Even though Scaramouche outranks your Superior – and following that logic you as well – by a long shot, you feel your posture loosen up almost immediately. A familiar calm settling down your bones.

“I am off to act as a scout at the front. To make certain, the area is clear.”

Scaramouche’s eyebrow arch at that “You’re tasked with reconnaissance?”

“Not quite,” you explain, trying to overplay your irritation, but failing miserably. “I’m to remain there until the rest of the division arrives.”

Almost instantly his expression hardens, knowing the dangers and risks of that position. “Who distributed these roles? And more importantly - why have I not been informed?”

You cross your arms in front of you, suddenly feeling like you have to defend yourself in some sort. “It was a last-minute change. I was also informed just now.”

“Are they truly that incapable of decent strategizing? How utterly predictable.”

He lets out a slow, disdainful sigh before he flicks his gaze over to you. “And just so you get this straight, you will certainly not go.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf?” He scoffs and adjusts his collar, feigning nonchalance. “I will not risk my agent for some stupid reconnaissance task. You will remain at my side at the front, as it was originally planned and where your skills are suited best.”

The tone of his voice makes clear there’s no room for discussion left and yet you take a deliberate step closer to him.

“Scara,” you say, wanting to make sure no misconception remains, “this mission needs scouts to clear the area. I can manage that by myself if needed.”

“We’ll manage without scouts.” Scaramouche lets his gaze linger a moment too long, then his eyes narrow. “Or are you questioning my leadership?”

You huff. “This is ridiculous. My role isn’t that important to risk an entire mission for.”

The hardness in his eyes melts away and then he turns to the side, as if suddenly bored of the conversation.

“It is to me.”

Scaramouche keeps his gaze focused on the forest. His voice devoid of any emotion, merely an irritated frown has settled between his browns. “And now shut it, we’re heading off. I’ll handle your superior.”

[ivy-elle]

Veilon

(noun) the bittersweet beauty in what remains hidden, in secrets, never spoken

“Stop denying it.”  

Scaramouche’s words echo in your mind, then stick like honey. Impelling. Taunting.

The air is so thick you feel it could be cut by the sound of your voice alone.

You are staring at each other. Faces so close, your breath is mingling together.

But you keep your eyes on him, even as his lips brush yours for the fraction of a second.

On accident?

No.

Nothing is accidental with him.

Your heart rings loud in your ears. “How long are we going to play this game, then?” you murmur in return, your breath suddenly heavy.

He trails his thumb along your cheekbone. Eyes staring into your soul like they’re seeing something you don’t.

When he speaks again, his voice is low, yet dulcet against your skin. “Until one of us loses.”

Scaramouche takes one step back again, and a weight falls off your shoulders. But at the same time, something in your ribs just learnt the meaning of yearning.

[ivy-elle]

happy birthday, hat guy

happy birthday hat guy

[ivy-elle]

I hope this year is kind to you, and I hope so is your heart.

There’s so much darkness in the world as it is, and it’s often overlooked how one single act of kindness can change the trajectory of someone’s entire day.

And sometimes it’s also enough to start by being kind to yourself.

Happy New Year <3

[ivy-elle]

When You're Sick -

and how they take care of you

Feat: Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao

Kazuha 

You’re not sure if it’s the constant swaying of Beidou’s ship, the relentless stream of sunshine or maybe the lack of sleep last night, but Archons, your head is absolutely killing you right now. The only thing keeping you sane – more or less – is the fresh breeze of the sea, and even then, you find your nails nearly digging themselves into the wood of the railing.

Just as you’re about to lean your head down and close your eyes for a few heavenly moments, a soft voice speaks out behind you. 

“You shouldn’t stay out in the open sun for too long, dove.”

Before you get the chance to reply you feel something being put on your head, shielding your eyes from the sun.

You turn around, and there’s Kazuha mustering you with a faint smile yet also a slight furrow on his face. 

“Is everything alright?”

You reach out to adjust the hat on top of your hair while leaning your back against the railing again. 

“Thank you. And yes, I don’t mind the sun, I’m literally freezing.”

At your words, Kazuha’s frown deepens. “Freezing?” He places both his hands on your arms, gently caressing them. “Love, you’re shivering. How can you be shivering at these temperatures? Have you fallen sick?”

As he pulls you closer, you automatically rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes at the pleasant comfort. 

“Mhm, just tired I think,” you murmur.

Kazuha’s hands automatically wrap around your waist and pull you closer.  His lips brush against your temple. “Let’s head inside the cabin and get some rest. I’m sure, I can manage to bribe the cook for some special soup for dinner, hm?”

Right there in Kazuha’s arms, an incredibly heavy tiredness overcomes you. A low hum escapes you as you blink drowsily. “When will we reach Liyue?”

His hand rests at the base of your neck, massaging the skin there with his thumb. “If we keep course sometime in the night. But rest assured, I won’t go on land until you’re feeling up to it as well.”

Then Kazuha gently cups your face in his hands and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come now, you’re the priority right now.”

Scaramouche

The morning you wake up with a sore throat, is when you realise, the rest of the day is absolutely done for.

And yet, you still torment yourself out of bed, get dressed and pop some pills to help you handle the coming hours.

Considering that the Fatui don’t allow aberration or shortcomings of any sort, there is no way you could be negligent. Especially today.

So, dressed and ready you cast a last glimpse at your reflection in the mirror you declare that your outer appearance now at least overshadows your inner demise. And thus, you go out the door.

Still.

And still, he notices. Of course, he does.

The second you enter the headquarters and the very second Scaramouche’s eyes fall on you – like they always tend to do – his brow twitches, and he throws you a silent but very disapproving glare.

During the meeting you both stand on opposite ends of the hall, so while you are trying to overplay your struggles and keep any undesired sneezes supressed, you are in luck to receive nothing but the occasional glance in your direction from him.

But as soon as the assembly is done, Scaramouche is immediately at your side. “What compelled you to come here looking like that?” he hisses. But he doesn’t even look at you, gaze focused straight ahead as you both walk down the hallway.

“Why,��� you deflect, ignoring his tensed expression, “you have anything against my outfit?”

“Y/n.” Scaramouche’s tone is low, with a warning not to play around right now.

“You’re of no use to the Fatui if you’re sick, or worse off.”

You frown slightly. Honestly, you definitely feel way too out of it for any arguments or for anything in general. So you fend off, “It’s not like I’m dying.”

“Of course, you’re not!” he retorts sharply, his eyes darkening as they lock with you. Then as if he realises the force of his words, he pinches his nose. “Of course, you’re not dying,” he repeats once more but this time with less venom yet enough exasperation in his voice, to get his point across.

“I should’ve known better than to take you with me to Snezhnaya. Now you’re suffering the consequences of your mortal fragility. Just great.”

You blink. “Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got quite the affinity for dramatic flair?” You stop in your walk, and he comes to a halt as well.

Scaramouche eyes travel along the lack of usual colour in your face, the flush around your eyes and how out of breath you sound. His jaw clenches.

“You’re coming to my place.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows raise. You can’t help the teasing smile tugging on your lips, despite the heaviness and fuzzy state of your mind. “Already missing me, my dear?”

Scaramouche scoffs and flicks his gaze over you dismissively. “Someone has to make sure you won’t try anything stupid in your current state.”

You playfully bump your fist against his chest. “Aww, so you do care about little ol’ me.”

He rolls his eyes with exaggerated disdain and catches your wrist with his hand, pressing it against his body. “You’re the one being sick and yet I’m the one already getting a headache.”

Xiao

Xiao is freaking out.

When he finds you curled up in bed, shivering and covered in a sheen of sweat his mind immediately jumps to the worst possibilities.

Yet, he tries not to let his inner turmoil show, his hand clenching and unclenching the cloth on his pants while he takes slow, weary steps towards you.

“Y/n?”

You lift your head, your tired eyes flicker to him, and the sight of your weak state only fuels his concern.

Despite your weary expression, your lips curve into a soft, affectionate smile. “Hi,” you greet him, voice hoarse and tinged with exhaustion. “Has Verr Goldet sold me out?”

Xiao nods slowly. His expression is hard to make out as he steps closer, eyes running over your face. The bed dips slightly as he sits down at your side and gently traces his fingertips over your sweat-damp forehead.

“How bad is it?” He asks, his voice quiet yet gruff as if he is trying to contain all his emotions.

“It’s just a mean cold.” You shake your head and shift your position. Xiao immediately helps you sit up and lean against the pillows at your headrest.  

“No need to worry too much.”

Xiao gently tucks a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re asking me for something that goes against my nature.”

Your gaze softens as it lingers on him, studying his reaction carefully. Then you explain in a quieten voice, “It is normal for humans to get sick once in a while.”

His eyebrows furrow and he blinks several times, as if searching for the right words to say. But he finds none and thus he resides to carefully trail his fingers through your hair, down to your collarbone and shoulder.

Your eyes close on their own and you instinctively lean into his soft touches while the back of his hand travels from your neck, off to your cheek and finally settling on your forehead.

“How can I help you?” Xiao’s voice is quiet, as if afraid to disturb the moment of peace you seemed to have found right now. “I’ll get you anything you need. Anything. Just say the word.”

Your hand reaches for his unoccupied one, fingers dragging along his skin, following invisible patterns on his wrist before you gently intertwine your fingers. “Stay with me?”

Xiao nods, his expression earnest. “Always.”

Thank you so much for reading! Any comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

[ivy-elle]

Checkmate

Scaramouche x Reader

Like many things in life, chess is a constant play of push and pull.

It’s a battle of wits, intelligence, and skill, but it also requires the art of sacrifice and moving forward.

And if there is one thing Scaramouche is bad at it’s letting things go.

He can practically feel the weight of your gaze on him. Quiet, observing, calculating. Taking this broad picture of his brooding demeanour and dividing it gently into single pieces. Like you seem to do so often with him.

Thereby, before you have the chance to strike your words and crumble his walls once again, he acts faster.

“You’re cheating.”

You blink at his sudden words, then your eyes narrow. “No, you’re just a sore loser.”

“I don’t lose.”

A doubtful, low hum escapes you. “Sure. But you’re slacking today.” And then, just to jab at his endurance you add, “more so than usual.”

Scaramouche makes a noncommittal noise, the insult rolls off him for once.

That grabs your attention even more and your eyes travel along his figure; taking in his tense position while his gaze focuses on the chess board between the both of you. But his eyes seem to be in a faraway galaxy you fail to follow.

When you slide your chess piece across the board yet again, he suddenly scoffs.

“That’s a stupid move.”

 “Watch me still win,” you shoot back and as if to prove your point, the next move causes his knight to fall prey to your pawn.

Scaramouche mutters something under his breath and a frown settles between your brows as you watch him ponder on his strategy.

“You focus too much on your defence while also moving without hesitation,” you explain, before you add softly, “You don’t make sufficient sacrifices.”

“Feels like I’m making far too many,” Scaramouche mutters these words more to himself than to you.

A few more moments pass, in which you make your respective moves. Then you look up once more.

“It’s a pin. You have to let go of your queen or it's checkmate for you.”

“I can see that,” he remarks with a rising sense of irritation. “I know what I’m doing.”

Scaramouche glares at his queen amidst the chessboard. Letting the piece stay where it is feels strangely like suffocating, yet leaving the safety feels like losing everything that could potentially be, followed by an imminent sense of loss.

Scaramouche catches your eyes again, catches that too-soft, too-caring look that has taken hold of your feature. A look that seems to say a lot without actually speaking a word.

In his time of searching for who he is and what he wants, Scaramouche has learnt that some bridges to the past can never be burnt in their entirety.

And although you’ve accompanied him on his path, he fears some parts of him will be stuck behind an iron wall for eternity, and some cliffs he will never be able to cross.

But somehow, something pushes him to constantly take a leap of faith with you.

So, he relents.

Scaramouche lets his king get checked, but his queen remains standing.

A slippery fine line between here and there. Guarded and exposed.  

Push and pull.

[ivy-elle]

Hi Elle! I just wanted to say that i recently joined Tumblr and you’ve been my top fav! I love your writing so so much (especially the scaramouche versions)!!! you do them the best and i’m always so excited everytime you post!! Love ya and Happy Holidays!! 🫶🏻

Hi Lesie welcome to the show!! ^^

First off I read your message during a family gathering while the vibes were a bit 🤏🏼 off and your words brought me immense joy - so thank you for that!!

And for your words on their own - thank you!!! So much!!!

To hear those kind words or thoughts or generally any kind of feedback means honestly so so much

I’m honoured and I’m wishing Happy holidays to you as well❣️

[ivy-elle]

It reminds me of that one poem that I can’t find right now

Something along the lines of - “And whenever he smiles you could hear his soul break”

It’s so so gorgeous!

The rot was inevitable

[ivy-elle]

Mistletoe, Oh Mistletoe

Summary: Kissing them under the mistletoe. Or not…?

Ft.: Albedo, Scaramouche, Xiao

A/N: Something sweet, something cheesy, something warm for the season :)

“How fitting for the season,” you murmur. With a gentle smile on your lips, you glance around the various synthetical flowers and greeneries collected on Albedo’s desk. A particular plant catches your eye and you reach out for it, twiddling it between your fingers.

“The Mistletoe, you mean?” Albedo glances up at the sound of your voice, his gaze falling to the plant as well, which has already started to wither. “It was rather a coincidence I’ve decided to try some synthetisation on this particular plant since everywhere in Mondstadt seems to be adorned with them. Although it is a highly poisonous plant, people still use it as a winter decoration.”

His eyes flicker up to you, crinkling in slight amusement. “Quite ironic, it seems.”

You return his smile. “Just as humans are.”

“Here,” Albedo steps closer to you and gently takes the withering plant out of your hand, “let me try to restore it back to life again.”

You watch in admiration as golden dust settles around the stem before you muse. “You know, although the plant is vicious, some people hold the tradition to kiss if they cross a mistletoe.”

Albedo hums. “Indeed, although if I recall correctly that practice is more common to happen if one is to stand… under the plant.”

At his words, you slowly drag your eyes from the flower in his hand up to Albedo’s face close to yours until you meet his blue eyes, which are already settled on you with the tenderness you often catch in his gaze when looking at you. “That’s true…”

Even his movements are careful and gentle as he reaches out for you, a faint smile on his lips. “May I then?”

“But you’re still merely holding the Mistletoe in your hands,” you register your voice replying softly as the words leave you without much thinking. “That doesn’t quite count as you just stated.”

A warmth fills his expression, and you catch his lips twitch in amusement. “Perhaps.” Thus, Albedo lifts his hand, and the dead branch shimmers as it materialises back to its blooming, lush green. “This should do it.”

Then his hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you in, just a little closer.

Why do you feel so nervous out of a sudden? It’s not like you haven’t kissed before. It’s Albedo. Your Albedo.

But before you can reduce yourself entirely back to a nervous mess you quickly lean in, brushing your lips against his. Your whole posture relaxes as he immediately leans into the kiss, his fingers gently sliding down the side of your face to your neck.

Perhaps you ought to adorn the workshop with some more mistletoes, maybe even ask Jean to spread them along Dragon Spine as well.

Merely for aesthetic reasons of course.

“Don’t they have at least some decorum?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You’re suddenly one to talk about decorum?”

For that comment, Scaramouche sends you a scowl. “I am aware of how to properly act in public. At the minimum.” He flicks his gaze back to the backyard where he eyes the indecent couple in a dismissive manner.

“Since when are you so attached to propriety?” You lean next to him at the balcony railing, clasping your hands together. “We’re at headquarters and they’re simply kissing in the secluded gardens. That’s hardly public.”

The Fatui headquarters of Liyue definitely differ from those in Inazuma or Snezhnaya. Maybe it’s simply the joy of the season or perhaps it’s the charm of the region. But people here seemed more… laid-back or at least less tensed than you’ve known them to be elsewhere.

The two Fatui are standing by the ivy-overgrown wall holding hands and murmuring something to each other. Even though they’re quite far away from the view from your balcony, you can sense their love for each other through their smiles alone. You’ve met both of them several times already whenever a mission or a task has sent you to Liyue and it’s nice to see that even among an organisation as obscure as the Fatui, people are still able to find love within.

“We’re all just humans here,” you murmur, more to yourself than to anyone, “let them have their fun.”

Scaramouche frowns, an appalled if not to say disgusted look growing on his face as you defend their behaviour. “I’m not what you’d call ‘human’.”

You turn your head to him, giving him a once-over. “You certainly don’t know how to have as much fun as one, that’s for sure.”

“What is there to have fun about that?”

“It’s cute. Some would say it’s even romantic to be trapped beneath a Mistletoe, having to kiss the one you share the spot with to ‘get free’ again.” You give him a teasing nudge with your elbow.

He doesn’t respond to your gesture nor your grin, instead he keeps his eyes set on the garden as he taps the railing rhythmically, silently taunting.

“I don’t need some plant to get to kiss you.”

You sigh. The point flew straight over his head again. “You really don’t own an ounce of joy in that body of yours, do you?” With a shake of your head, yet still a bit of amusement at his current no-nonsense demeanour, you step away from the balcony and head back inside the room. But not before turning your head to call back, “And let the poor people alone, you creep.”

Scaramouche sighs heavily while turning around and leaning his back against the railing, as though burdened by the simple movement alone. He mutters something disgruntled but you’re already too far away to catch the words.

The room you've both been given for the stay in Liyue has been adorned with simple but sweet winter decorations and those promptly cause an idea to pop into your head. A mischievous grin makes its way onto your lips.

To ask Scaramouche to kiss you under a mistletoe and hope for good outcome could turn out to be naïve at best and pathetic at worst. But nothing against pushing his buttons a bit, right?

So, when Scaramouche enters the room a short while later again, you put on a nonchalant expression as you quickly step next to him.

He raises his eyebrow at your sudden movement, watching you with a calculating gaze. “What?”

You point up to the ceiling where you’ve just hung up a mistletoe earlier. “Oh no! Seems like you have to kiss me now or we’ll be trapped here for eternity.”

 “I don’t have to do anything.”

Having expected this exact reaction, you tilt your head with an amused smile and put on a playful omnious voice. “No, that’s true of course. But bad luck will befall you if you don’t.”

Scaramouche’s eyes narrow, not liking being told what to do even if it’s clearly just one of your jests. Still, defiant as he is, Scaramouche simply takes a step to the side.

“Am I on fire already?” He mocks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I can arrange that, if it offers you at least some joy, my dear.”

Then your lips twitch as you try to hide your amusement and continue your plan. You muse, seemingly pondering on something. “Didn’t Childe want to pick us up for the meeting at the Northern Bank?”

His mood sours instantly at the mention of the other Harbinger and he crosses his arms. “Unfortunately.”

“Mhm, that’s a relief then.”

At your words his head darts up, eyes flashing dangerously as he seizes you up. “Why the hell would you be relieved to see him out of all people?”

You sigh, putting on some extra bit of theatrically in your tone. “Well, I mean I’m trapped under this mistletoe. Poor ol’ me is not allowed to move until someone kisses me free. And since my beloved partner so coldheartedly refuses to-“

Scaramouche is next to you in one single stride, hands clasping your shoulders. “No.”

His expression is intense as the implications of your words register in his mind. “Don’t even think about it.”

And being the way he is, Scaramouche still refuses to give into your little trap. So instead of kissing you properly, he presses his lips at the corner of your mouth, aware of what it does to you. Only then does he step back, but this time, he makes sure to pull you along, away from that cursed thing on the ceiling.

“To be clear – you have to stick by side now, so no one else gets any stupid ideas,” he states in a low voice as his fingers slip around your hand.

“What a horrible prospect,” you mutter dryly, but your amused smile and the slight heat at the tips of your ears, tell an entirely different story.

“I have to admit, I am somewhat jealous of your abilities as an Adeptus to not straight up freeze your as- I mean… body off.” You pull your coat even closer around your body, before digging your spoon into your breakfast bowl.

Xiao who’s eating next to you on the rooftop of Wangshu Inn turns to you. His eyes flicker over your figure and slight worry forms in his eyes. “There’s no reason not to have breakfast inside. I am not certain why you insist on staying out here in the snow.”

“It’s only snowing lightly,” you defend yourself, swinging your legs off the railing. “And Wangshu Inn is so full of life during this time of the year. Just look at the people and all the lights from this point of view.”

“Mhm.” Apparently not quite convinced and concerned for your health Xiao offers you his fresh and still hot cup of tea. You take it with a quiet thanks and he responds with a slow nod. It’s quiet up here. It’s nice. And comfortable.

Until that silence is suddenly diminished as a shrill scream cuts through the air. Xiao’s eyes immediately dart to the cause, his body tenseing up.

You follow his line of sight and spot two people chasing each other, but as you hear the laughter your shoulders relax again, it’s just in good fun. Then you spot what exactly the person chasing the other is holding in their hand and you can’t help but chuckle softly to yourself. “It’s all fine. They’re just having fun.”

But Xiao keeps his eyes fixed on them, ready to intervene, should he be needed. “How can you tell?”

You point to the second person running down there on the terrace. “They’re holding mistletoes. Probably just trying to put on some pranks.”

Xiao frowns, not quite grasping the meaning behind all of this. Why chase someone with a plant for fun? “Are they poisonous?”

“No, it’s not that.” You shake your head. “Well, I mean, yes they are poisonous but only if consumed but it’s not the reason they’re chasing each other I assume.”

Now slightly less on edge, Xiao leans back and takes another spoonful of his breakfast. “Is that another one of human customs?”

In his life, Xiao’s been in various places and seen a strange number of things, and yet, humans never cease to surprise him. According to the tales, you tell him sometimes or he witnesses here at the Inn, there’s always an abundance left of evolvement within mortals.

You hum quietly. “It is a sort of tradition, at least in some cultures. But in recent times it’s become more popular and spread across the regions. You see all of those plants Verr Goldet has attached to the ceilings or atop some of the tables?” You point down towards the inn’s tables on the terrace.

Xiao nods. “It’s a parasitic organism. Why do humans use them as decorations if they induce such fear?”

You can’t help but grin slightly, trying to hide your amusement by taking another bite of your food. “Well, it’s not exactly fear that drives them. The people chasing each other over there are just teasing the other. But it has become custom that once two people find themselves under a mistletoe, they to… well, kiss each other.”

Xiao blinks, not having expected that answer. “Kiss?”

You nod slowly, schooling your face to a more serious one. “Once you step beneath a mistletoe, you’re not able to move anymore until you break the spell with a kiss.”

“So, it’s a curse” A troubled furrow makes itself comfortable in his brow. “How have I not heard of that yet?”

With a teasing grin, you gently bump your shoulder against his. “Don’t worry, I’m just having some fun.”

Xiao meets your eyes, shaking his head. “At my expense, I see,” he grumbles but the mood stays sanguine, nonetheless.

You squeeze his shoulder, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek before you stand up. “Let’s head inside before we freeze to our seats.”

Xiao turns away as the tips of his ears change into a reddish hue.

Your face softens at how he still flusters after all the time. That’s why you decide not to mention the green plant dangling from the top of the roof edge beneath which you have just been sitting below.

It seems like Verr Goldet knew exactly what she was doing and was more than aware of Xiao’s and your usual hang-out spot.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and to everyone I hope you have a warm and light winter season <3

[ivy-elle]

“Don’t.”

The word escapes him before he can swallow them back down. For a second Scaramouche hopes you didn’t hear him. 

But then you’re already turning your head back and look at him over your shoulder, a frown gracing your face. “Don’t what?” 

The bed sheets pool around your waist as you sit at the edge of the bed.

Scaramouche swallows. Now he has to deal with the embarrassment of sounding needy, on top of fighting against his urge to pull you back into bed, his pride is crumbling further. 

When he doesn’t speak up again, you do. “Scara, if this is again about the mission I’m assigned to…“

Scaramouche scoffs as you remind him of that other nuisance. He moves back up, leaning back against the bed's headrest as his eyes settle on your face. A part of him is grateful to shift the topic to a more solid area, away from these… sentiments.

And thus, a scowl settles on his face.

“Precisely,” Scaramouche states. “It is a senseless task and an utter waste of effort.”

You exhale once, then move to settle back down on the bed, hands beneath the pillow as you face him. “I am well aware of that, believe me.”

His dark eyes flicker over your features. “Then why still go?”

“You suggest I just stay at home, because ‘I’m not feeling it’?”

“Yes.”

You scoff, but an amused, if not knowing smile settles on your face. It is obvious, that it’s not about the mission. At least not only. 

“It doesn’t exactly work like that,” you murmur. Your hand reaches out, to trace your fingers along his wrist. His hand twitches slightly, but he doesn’t move. “In case you haven’t noticed, unlike you I’m not a harbinger and thus can’t simply say ‘no’ to my superiors.”

Scaramouche’s hand catches your fingers and pulls you closer to him. “And in case you haven’t noticed, last time I checked I’m in a higher position than you and thus have more authority. If I say that mission is out of your league - you stay.”

You bristle up at his words. Is he kidding? “The hell you mean out of my league?”

His eyebrow curves up at your protest. “I figured it obvious, you’re far above these matters. Don’t let yourself get humiliated.”

“I’m not. It’s nice to have easy tasks once in a while.”

“You know what would be even easier?” His arms move to your waist, drawing you closer. “Staying in bed.”

For a moment you are actually inclined to just skip everything and stay in this position right here right now for the rest of your life. But, alas. Responsibilities and the like. “I might be convinced to stay 20 minutes longer.”

His lips twitch. “Done.”