#kunikuzushi; ic

[voidfragments]

@dnangelic | starter call

this. fucking. sucks.

kunikuzushi has no qualm with thieves, generally speaking. why would he? what concern is it to him if some tomb or noble's palace is raided and ransacked for all it's worth? as long as that one place most precious to him is left untouched (and what treasure hoarder in their right mind would brave the dangers of tatarasuna), he couldn't care less.

unfortunately for him, not everyone around him feels the same way. even more unfortunately, when lesser lord kusanali heard rumors of some desert ruins potentially being targeted (something culturally significant, he thinks, though he was only half-listening and didn't bother to retain the details), she decided that he would be the best security.

it makes sense, in theory. he possesses an anemo vision, allowing him to move rapidly and without being bound to the ground; he is powerful enough to handle all but a god-level threat on his own; he is intimidating, which might prevent the need to fight in the first place; he doesn't even need to sleep, making him a great choice for overnight shifts. the problem lies in one simple fact: he. hates. the desert. so, he's already in a terrible mood, grumbling to himself as he stands just outside, wrapped in a cloak to keep the sand away from exposed joints.

hopefully this supposed thief really does show up. it'd be even more frustrating if this was a waste of time.

[hat-guy-official]

Wanderer

The creation of this page has been entirely against my will.

Lesser Lord Kusanali promised that she’d get off my back if I made a blog to journal about my ‘thoughts and feelings’. This is that blog. Although, in order to avoid actually talking about said ‘thoughts and feelings’, I’ve opened up my ask box so that you worms might submit your thoughts and feelings instead.

It’s a clever subversion, in my opinion. And she can rest easy knowing that I’m making an attempt at interacting with others.

Admin, here! Just a couple of rules:

Suggestive content is okay, but I reserve the right to not respond to an ask if it makes me uncomfortable.

I really love canon character interactions, so if you rp another genshin character and want to send in an ask or respond to any of my posts as that character, I highly encourage it! Especially characters involved w scara.

That being said, any ocs/anons are totally fine. I’d appreciate any and all interaction! It’s what keeps these blogs going :)

Disclaimer for this blog/character in particular: Scara’s demeanor is typically very miffed/annoyed when discussing certain topics. If I come across that way, I am not annoyed with you or your question!

Tags:

wanderer thoughts: posts without a prompt or interaction

wanderer speaks: responses to asks or other rp blogs

🌱: nahida

🐳: childe

🍁: kazuha

🌸: raiden

💉: dottore

Happy asking!

[vixlenxe]

Been back for like an hour, & an AU version of him already been called out indirectly.

[wwindblumee]

" will you please just stay for once.  just.  don’t walk away."

[ SHOULDER ] for one muse to rest their head on the other’s shoulder while they comfort them. 

for Scara or Xiao ^^

Wanderer honestly didn’t feel like being comforted. Although he’d promised himself that he’d never look back on old memories, he’d done it anyways. The puppet made the situation worse by allowing himself a tear. One tear became four, which quickly became eight and so on. He definitely hadn’t expected the other to comfort him, and he was currently furiously wiping at his tears.

[smolfrosted]

Warning: Sumeru 3.2 spoilers, swearing, like more than usual

“Lesser Lord Kusanali defeated the Balladeer?”

Fuck no, fuck that

Was she present for the fight?

Yes

Did she help with the fight?

Yes

But by no means was she the one to defeat the Balladeer!

The Traveler did, the Traveler was the one to defeat him.

She’s the one that took the electro gnosis after the fight, to help channel the knowledge of Sumeru into the Traveler.

Was she an important part of the fight?

Absolutely

But to give no credit to the Traveler at all is absolutely infuriating to me

And the fact that it was Tighnari that said it pisses me off even more

Fuck Sumeru

[sixosix]

requested by anon!! hope u enjoy, warning for profanity, fluff

As soon as Wanderer’s eyes laid upon the ball of fluff in your palms, he had said with a disdainful glare to “discard of that at once.”

But you aren’t having any of it. The little kitten curled up by your chest is looking up at you so adorably that you simply can’t discard it, no matter what your boyfriend might say. In fact, the shade of the cat reminds you of his eyes—but saying that would provoke him further, and you’re already on thin ice, letting the cute stray run around your shared home while he makes a face at each sight of its fur.

You coo as the kitten licks your nose when you hold him up to your face. “Do I name him after you? Can I name him after you? I’m naming him after you.”

His eyes narrow, glaring at the impossibly tiny space between you and the animal. “You are not naming it after me.”

“Kuni,” you negotiate. Not that he has a choice anyway because you already have your mind set on it. “Kuni, baby, are you hungry? Do you want some food?”

Your Kunikuzushi bristles, hackles rising. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”

The cat, as if beckoned by his voice, paws at him. “Meow,” the little kitten says softly. Wanderer, to the cat’s dismay, doesn’t respond; he simply rises from his seat and leaves.

So it’s established that you’ve long accepted that Wanderer is not fond of your new pet.

A crying shame because the cat adores him. You don’t know if there’s anything deep to his hatred for your new stray or if he’s just jealous that your undivided attention is no longer on him, but you took pity and decided to own the responsibility of taking care of it.

Which makes it a surprise to come home one day and see your boyfriend nestled against your bed with the kitten curled up on his chest, meowing as he smiles faintly and rubs its head with a finger.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again?” he murmurs. If you had been in another room, you wouldn't have heard it yourself. “Don’t get too greedy.”

Your breath hitches, too afraid to shatter this moment by bursting into the room. Then again, you should’ve realized that the cat has been sticking too long around him too often without something at play. Perhaps the reason why it’s so fond of your boyfriend is because of secret tender moments like this.

“Your owner will get mad at me if I overfeed you,” he says conspiratorially, rubbing his finger against the cat’s chin while it purrs and nuzzles its face further into his palm for more.

Your heart melts, a tiny noise escaping your lips at the sight of the ever-so-haughty Wanderer on the bed, all but cuddling with your pet.

Wanderer’s eyes snap the crack of the door, perfectly meeting yours as if he knew all along that you were there. “Not a word.”

You gasp, enough to startle Wanderer and make him jump but not enough to wake the sleeping kitten on his hat. Lambad’s Tavern is a little empty, with only an adult or two hanging around to drink their sorrows away or loosen up to their heart's content. And you and your boyfriend are tucked in the far corner, where no one would bother to peep.

“Kunikuzushi!” you cry out, hands hovering around his head in panic. “Kuni, careful, what if Kuni falls?”

Kunikuzushi the human(?)’s face twists in confusion. “You should have never named it that.”

“Kuni,” you hiss as his movements have caused the cat to stir, yet miraculously not wake. “Don’t let him fall, ‘kay? God, I can’t bring myself to even leave my seat.”

He sighs, long and heavy. “I’m not going to drop him. Have more faith in me, will you? I have a better sense of balance than any of you in this Tavern combined.”

“But what if he falls and you accidentally attack him by trying to save him?”

“I’m not gonna wind blade the fucking cat.”

You’re staring at the kitten, who is, unfortunately, looking all too much at home on Wanderer’s hat as if it’s more comfortable than his own bed at home. It’s even worse that Wanderer spoils the cat rotten and lets him sleep wherever he wants. Now, wherever he walks, he has a tiny animal asleep on the top of his head.

Wanderer huffs, squeezing your mouth with a hand to prevent you from arguing. “If you love the cat, you will get us food and avoid waking it up with your yapping, got it?”

“Aw,” you smile, “you don’t wanna wake him up?”

He scowls. “Are you going to let us starve?”

The sight of him and the kitten looks too adorable. You can’t resist from agreeing to whatever Kuni the human is ordering you to do. You rise from your seat, leaving but not forgetting to kiss the cat’s head and Wanderer’s cheek, who flushes brightly and grumbles but doesn’t complain.

[bitbrumal]

tags.

[voidfragments]

"...in case anybody needed a reminder, my hat is not an umbrella."

[jayvolans]

𝗼𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐜𝐞 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝗺 𝐬𝗺𝐚𝐮

𝐕𝐈. 𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖...

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝗼𝐮𝐬❆ 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭❆ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭❆

Childe + Kuni, Pantalone + Zandik, Ei + Signora don’t come for me enemies to lovers slowburn w hot women I am WEAK

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 open❆

@whipped-for-fictionals @makimakimi @baelloraa @softlie @starryeyedkoko @alharaea @duhsies @sunsethw4 @thelonelyarchon @dksfl920 @im-bili @kunitales @imkaaayy @daimiyu @nambii @istgnature @1999mercury @certaindreampost @momdancingtomcr @lady-elodie @faela404 @starbbearie @amaruthine @no3hg3nshin @deathkat657 @klementime @temshouineichi @imma-too-many-fandoms @phoenix-eclipses @hydration-is-for-weenies @classy-mc @letthewindlead @kaoyamamegami @nqctre @sassy-cat-in-town @thenightflowers @serenareiss @jaguarthecat @mmm-alhaitham @wishicouldart @hypernovaxx @feverish-dove @dreamhannies

[qingxin-dream]

“In Spite of Thorns”

summary | all you needed was a bit more color in your life. something to make life seem not so dull. little did you know the wallflower of a florist next door found himself in a similar dilemma. (art credits: @/MNCE_o on twitter)

warnings | profanity, pining, reader is a horrible flirt, reader gets a tattoo, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, semi-public sex, reader receives oral, face fucking, edging/orgasm denial, mention of cervix-kissing, breeding

genre | florist!kuni au, fluff, slow burn, smut with plot

word count | 5.2k

pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

There was a little flower shop next to your regular morning coffee joint that always caught your eye.

On your way to work, you’d often sit outside the tiny cafe downtown and admire the lovely bouquets sitting pretty in the windowsill next door. You imagined a sweet old lady running such an adorable business, the type to water her flowers early in the morning and know every person who walks through her door.

Much to your surprise, there was only one person attending to the shop—it was a young man with short indigo hair that framed his face and trailed down the back of his neck in soft wisps. You noticed he kept to himself with a stoic expression most of the time. You caught him once switching the flowers on display, it was the only time his face revealed a glimpse of emotion—something deeper and more meaningful than silent indifference.

The city was a place often devoid of the beauty and tranquility nature can offer. It was easy to get lost in the hum-drum of daily life and the grind of your 9-to-5 job, overwhelmed by a concrete cage of skyscrapers. It was frankly depressing when you had those rare moments of self-realization.

So, in an attempt to get a breath of fresh air one morning, you decide to visit the flower shop just a block from your work. The bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter, suddenly surrounded by a sea of beautiful flower arrangements kept in pristine condition. In the back stood the young owner, who didn’t even acknowledge your presence as he focused on his next bouquet behind the counter.

You couldn’t believe the level of detail and craftsmanship in each display, traveling slowly through the store in wonder. Perhaps it is what kept people coming back to this place despite his cold demeanor. He is an artist, there’s no doubt about it.

The sound of wrinkling plastic interrupted the young man’s work as you approached the register, setting down a small arrangement of daises in front of him. He grunted, giving you a slightly annoyed glare, quickly ringing up your purchase.

“It’s $10, even,” he says blandly, already looking back at his little flower project on the workbench impatiently.

You oblige without a word, awkwardly glancing around and silently noting his name badge which read ‘Kuni.’

“Your receipt,” he snatches the small paper and hands it to you.

“Thanks, Kuni. Have a good one,” you attempt to break the ice, but the young man has already turned his back to you to continue putting together his next artwork. A bit dejected, you leave with the daisies in hand. Maybe that was stupid.

You kept the tiny bouquet of daisies on your desk at work. Just having a bit of greenery was enough to lift your spirits when the day would take a turn for the worse. They were so delicate and cute, it had you tempted to visit the flower shop again. It was on the way to work anyway, why not?

At least, that was your excuse. I mean, you couldn’t deny that the young florist was easy on the eyes, despite his thorns.

Slowly but surely, you developed a new morning routine. You had become a familiar face to Kuni, the grumpy and closed-off flower shop owner. Around 7:30am, you’d walk into his humble store with a coffee in hand from the cafe next door, greeting him with a small “good morning.” You’d often casually wander around the store, asking about flower species or meanings to his arrangements.

It took awhile before Kuni was willing to indulge much in conversation. Typical responses came in the form of an eye roll, a scoff, or quips about having something better to do under his breath. Though, if you asked the right question, Kuni would occasionally come around the counter to help.

You swear it was like watching a flower bloom in real time with the way Kuni’s entire expression melted softly when he spoke about his arrangements. What once was but a shy sprout became a beautiful swirl of petals, full of life.

Kuni would reach beside you, awkwardly brushing his arm or his chest against you on accident. He would take the bouquet you were curious about and present it to you with subdued pride, caressing the blossoms. Colors, shapes, lengths, petals, ribbons—everything had significance and Kuni loved to teach you the nuances of his passion.

The days were beginning to feel like they pass by quicker. You woke up with a new reason to roll out of bed, lured by the taste of your usual miel coffee and the sweet aroma of flowers.

The chimes of the doorbell eventually had Kuni slightly jumping out of skin when you strolled through, a faint flush of color on his cheeks. His gaze would follow you intently from the corner of his eye, a small smile adorning his lips.

As an artist, he possessed an incredible attention to detail, picking up on your name that was scribbled on the side of your coffee cup; or how you carefully waded through the rows and rows endless flowers with curiosity crinkled on your cute brows. He discovered that your favorite color is blue. You like cream but not sugar. You love rainy days. You avert your eyes before saying hi.

Kuni soon found himself keeping note of these little details in his small notepad, though you simply thought he was scribbling business to-do’s.

Every other week or so, you’d need a new set of flowers for your desk and Kuni was content to offer his personal favorites. He quite enjoyed these mornings with you, as other customers typically visited around lunch or after 5pm to gift flowers to their spouses or loved ones. He’d never openly admit how you managed to melt his cold exterior and warm his heart as time passed.

You learned more about each other as the seasons changed and naturally became good friends. You were more than a regular to him. He found himself interested in hearing you talk about your day. Tell him about that terrible work meeting or the prank your coworker pulled on your boss. Who are your friends? Do you have a pet at home? Anyone significant in your life?

Kuni wanted to know everything about you.

There came one day that you approached him with a mischievous smirk on your face. He eyed you suspiciously, taking off his gloves and folding his arms over his apron. You had trouble written all over your face.

“Morning, Kuni,” you approached the counter immediately, interlacing your fingers together around your coffee cup.

Something is definitely up with you. He raises an eyebrow, finding your unusual mood to be amusing. “I have a feeling you have something to say.”

“Indeed I do,” you couldn’t help yourself, grinning widely with excitement brimming in your eyes. You looked like you were going to burst from laughter. “I need your expert opinion.”

On cue, he rolls his eyes at your adorable antics. “Well? Out with it.”

“I want a tattoo,” you confess, the enthusiasm you were feeling a moment ago now shifting into embarrassment for some reason. You had worked up the courage all night to ask for Kuni’s advice, imagining a hundred different ways it could possibly go. It was too late to take it back now.

“A tattoo? You’d be the last person I’d expect to want something like that,” Kuni deadpans with a hint of confusion and condescension. “Why do you need my opinion? I think you look just fine without one.”

It’s not that he disliked tattoos. The florist simply appreciated your natural beauty, and didn’t want you to regret permanently marking your body. It seems you weren’t entirely as incorruptible as he initially thought.

“I just want to try something new,” you sigh, pursing your lips to express your dissatisfaction. You held your breath, tapping on the side of your coffee cup before adding, “I’m plain. And boring. I don’t even have a piercing.”

Kuni frowned. He had no idea where this self-loathing behavior was coming from, but he was determined to snuff out any reservations you had about yourself. “You’re pretty just the way you are, (Y/N).”

You refuse to accept that answer, shaking your head. “C‘mon, you don’t think I’d look cute with a small tattoo? Something tasteful. Not even a flower tattoo?”

“I mean—it’s hard to imagine you with any tattoos,” he replied before finally relenting his distaste with a noncommittal shrug. “But I suppose, if anything, a flower could only make your skin lovelier.”

His mind was already turning its gears, wondering what spurred this sudden desire to change. He lamented the idea of you being unhappy with yourself. If this is what would make you smile again, then Kuni resolved to support you as any friend should.

“Good, because I figured my favorite florist could pick out a flower for me,” your eyes sparkled playfully, waiting for his reaction.

Putting his hand on his forehead, Kuni huffs and slowly runs his palm down his face as if he is annoyed. Truthfully, he was hoping to wipe the warmth that quickly flooded his cheeks completely off. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him a flustered mess over you.

He runs a free hand through his hair, sighing softly. “Why not roses? Everyone does that.”

Your bottom lip poked out in a pout at his answer. This isn’t the response you expected at all. You didn’t understand him sometimes. Groaning, you dramatically tilt your head in momentary frustration and take his hand in yours, pleadingly.

“Really, Kuni? That’s the most cliché shit ever,” you grumble, though it’s more like a whine as you give him puppy eyes. “I’m being serious. What comes to mind when you think of me?”

The question is innocent enough, but feels like a punch to his gut—stealing the breath right from his lungs. If only you knew what you were asking of him.

Every day he imagines you walking through the door of his flower shop, a pretty smile on your face and a cup of black tea in your hand just for him. He would thank you softly and take your cheek in his warm palm, leaning in to kiss you before the store opens. His fingers would trail down your neck, his thumb nudging your head to the side to give him easier access to that sensitive spot on your neck, lips parting and ready to taste the desire on your skin.

He had to stop himself.

“What about… peonies? It blooms beautifully—a huge blossom with a strong, sweet fragrance.” The florist clears his throat after a brief pause, nervously searching your expression. If you were keen, you’d catch the tips of his ears burning bright pink. “An unmistakable flower that can convey so much… in less than a few words.”

Kuni happens to pull a red peony from the flowers he has scattered on his workbench for his upcoming arrangement, hesitating for a second before extending it sheepishly to you. You’re too caught up in the moment to notice how the dainty flower trembles slightly in his fingertips.

It’s perfect. You bring the peony to your nose, eyelashes fluttering up at Kuni appreciatively. He swears his heart skips a beat.

“I love it,” you exhale, offering the peony back to him. You feel invigorated, elated even, to have found a subject for your first tattoo. It had to be something meaningful, and naturally your first thought was Kuni. “Thank you, I promise to stop by to show you when it’s done.”

Before the lovestruck florist could say a word, you were running out the door, bells chiming at your departure. He held the red peony to his nose, closing his eyes and thinking of you.

It had been a few days since you stopped by, which was unusual.

Kuni tried not to dwell on it. You were a busy person and, of course, had your own life outside of him. He shouldn’t be upset that you suddenly ghosted him, yet he can sense a dreadful feeling crawling into his heart.

The doorbell rings, but the young flower shop owner doesn’t bother to see who entered. Of the hundreds of people who have visited his store in the time that you’ve been gone, none of them were you.

He turns to the counter to water a few flowers, his gaze flickering to the customer, and he can’t stop the way his jaw slowly drops. Standing a few feet away at his newest bouquet display is you all dolled up in a pretty little sundress that stops at your mid-thigh and hugs your figure nicely.

Most notably, your dress has an open back which reveals a plethora of peonies inked down the curve of your spine in an elegant and minimalist design. It’s utterly gorgeous.

“H-hey,” Kuni speaks up, sounding lost as he furrowed his eyebrows at you. His expression was beyond adorable, simply starstruck.

You glanced at the florist from over your shoulder, snickering since he accidentally let his guard slip more than usual. You cover your mouth, giggling at him, “Kuni, I think you’re overwatering the flowers.”

“Shit,” he curses to himself, immediately putting down the small water can on the counter with a light splash. Grumbling under his breath, he tries to drain the pot. “Where the hell have you been, by the way?”

“I took some time off work, sorry,” you admit, but really you were more interested in showing off the final product of your new tattoo. You happily twirl around in your tiny sundress and strike a goofy pose, the frilly ends spinning hypnotically around your upper thighs. “So…?”

All of Kuni’s irritation with his embarrassing mishap washes away as he watches you excitedly spin around, flaunting your curves and the work of art now inked on your back. He smirks and mutters quietly, “I think I like peonies a whole lot more now.”

You brush your hair to the side so he can see the full tattoo. “Haha, come look at it then!”

His heart fluttered, quickly taking off his dirty gardener’s gloves to take a closer look. Every step towards you made his mind race and his breath a little shallow, you were stunning if he was being completely honest. He felt even more attracted to you with such an amazing work of art spanning your back, and to top it off—he was your inspiration—just as you were secretly his muse.

Without thinking, the florist’s fingertips lightly brush your spine in silent admiration. You immediately tense and gasp at the unexpected contact.

He snaps out of his thoughts and recoils in horror. “Sorry, sorry. I-I wasn’t… I, uh…”

You laugh and smile in understanding. “It’s fine. You surprised me is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet, he was still compelled to continue tracing the contours of the raven-colored ink over the surface of your soft skin. You said it was fine. You were okay with it. He was overthinking it, right?

“C-can I ask why, of all people, you wanted me to pick your first tattoo?” Kuni was still trying to make sense of everything in his head. He was secretly terrified that he was projecting his own feelings onto you, and masked it behind a playful smile of disbelief.

“Well,” you brushed your hair back over your shoulders and finally turned to face him. Your sundress was just as cute in the front, Kuni smiles to himself. A faint blush dusts your precious little cheeks. “I think I’ve adopted your affinity for flowers. Saying everything while saying nothing at all... it’s poetic, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t have to get a tattoo just for me,” Kuni joked to make light of the situation, throwing in a faint grunt of disapproval and an eye roll. He was sure you picked a flower just to appease him since he was originally against the idea.

In reality, he was more than touched by your thoughtfulness.

There was a peculiar glint in your expression that the florist couldn’t quite place. He felt drawn in. You took a petal from the newest bouquet on display between your index and thumb, caressing the soft blossom.

“I mean, your flower arrangements are always so beautiful, and you handle them with so much care,” you trail off, staring at the bouquet with an indiscernible emotion. Then, in a whisper followed by a smile, you continue, “Maybe I was jealous.”

His gut reaction is to chuckle to hide his reddened face. He didn’t know what to think of it. Surely you were joking.

“Jealous, huh?” Kuni repeats with amusement lining the smirk slowly spreading across his face. “That I touch these flowers with more care than… say, touching you? Is that it?”

However, instead of laughing along, you blush a deeper shade of crimson that rivals his own and to boot, you take your lower lip between your teeth. “S-so you admit it?”

“Admit what?” he scoffs, brushing off your reaction as if you didn’t just confess to wanting his touch. He couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you genuinely had an interest in him. He was in denial, rationalizing every detail in the back of his mind. Where this was going, he had no clue.

As he continued to wage this internal war with himself, attempting to play a kind of 4-D chess to stay a step ahead of you, he neglected the most obvious conclusion. “Y-you really want me to…?”

Poor Kuni had let his mind run in circles this whole time and he was made the fool. You were trying to flirt with him.

You glance to the door of the flower shop, which sported a cute homemade sign that read ‘Come In, We’re Open!’ from the outside. Shifting uncomfortably, you keep your thighs closed tight. That glimmer in your eyes was no longer cloudy but clear as day to the florist—lustful—and he quite liked the way it reflected in your watercolor irises.

A small chuckle escapes your lips, the redness in your cheeks never leaving. You hoped that Kuni could read between the lines. “D-do you take custom orders? Because, I actually, uh, have a special flower I want you to use.”

“Oh?” he knew exactly what you were asking now, heat creeping up his neck at an alarming rate. The tension between your bodies is palpable at this point, as his fingers still hover over your back where he had touched you accidentally. “You know, I’d like to think I’m well-acquainted with many flower species, but… maybe you could enlighten me.”

He wanted you, truly. But part of Kuni had reservations about going this fast.

His attention snapped to you when he felt your fingers on his chest, fiddling with the flower pinned to his apron. Your voice softened and sounded sweet as honey, “You are the florist. I trust that you are a capable man, Kuni.”

“Well, I-I suppose I’d want to give this my utmost attention,” he begins, the back of his fingers graze your cheek down to your jaw, locking eyes with you. This is the stuff fantasies are made of, and here you are batting your pretty eyes at him.

“I wouldn’t mind closing the shop just for you.”

Amid the noise and bustle of the city, the people passing the storefront were none the wiser to the windows of the flower shop, curtains drawn to prevent any prying eyes. The door was locked shut, unusual for this time of day, but no customers would be stopping by any time soon. A sign hung in the window of the door reading ‘Sorry! We’re Closed!’

Even the lights were off, bathing the assortment of embellished bouquet displays in darkness. Near the florist’s workbench in the back of the store, a single lamp cast a warm ray over his newest obsession spread nice and ready for him. A pair of electrifying purple eyes drifted down his favorite fascination, admiring his work thus far—a smattering of hickeys trailing down your bare body. Your beautiful skin was his willing canvas.

The weight of Kuni’s gaze had your cunt twitch around nothingness in anticipation. Your only consolation lied behind your eyelids, edging yourself with the sweet delusion of his pulsing cock grazing your clit before guiding it to your desperate hole. Archons, you could almost envision how it would feel for his tip to venture across every ridge of your walls for the first time.

You needed it, craved it. No, you ached for it—as if you were missing a part of your soul that would make you whole.

Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips brushing on your supple thighs. How he had unraveled you out of every layer of clothing yet never set his sights on your pretty pussy was unfathomable. Art cannot be rushed, after all.

Kuni was taking his sweet time to memorialize the texture of your skin on his, to taste and devour you slowly in every possible sense. His imagination was the limit, and for now he was blissfully chasing your sensual little noises like a dream on the clouds of your lips.

His warm, muscular hand traveled across the round curve of your hip, gripping the plump flesh in reverence, and then snaked it up your back. You whimpered into his mouth as his soft tongue teased yours. He smiled, knowing that deep down you were beginning to reach your breaking point.

Kuni’s voice was smooth and inviting, “Mm, (Y/N), you know why I chose peonies?”

With each vertebrae the pads of his fingers discovered, tracing your tattoo, your spine arched just a little more into his toned chest. The corners of his mouth turn up into an adoring smile, long eyelashes framing the depth of the devotion imprinted in his expression. Your occasional soft gasps of need urged him to capture your lips in a chaste kiss intermittently.

“Your smile… reminds me of yellow peonies. Of new beginnings, every morning,” Kuni chuckles quietly to himself between kisses, intertwining his other hand in your hair. His thumb coaxes your jaw to open for him further, swirling his tongue with yours before rewarding you with the heavenly sensation of his lips once more.

“And in your absence,” he continues, taking your lower lip between his teeth to emphasize the emotions behind his words. “Like a soft pink peony, I realize how much I’m missing without you.”

“Mm, miss you too,” you lean into the florist’s mouth as he tries to pull away, not yet ready to part. He obliged with a smug exhale through his nose, hot breath tickling your lips as he nuzzles you. The atmosphere was thick with temptation, both of you closing your eyes to relish in the tension—such satisfaction feels even better when it’s just out of reach.

“When you walk through that door, you’re more beautiful than the day before… as lovely as a white peony,” Kuni let his hand fall from your hair to your collarbone, reminding you of the love bites he marked you with in a fit of passion earlier.

Licking his lips, the indigo-haired florist embarked to kiss every single inch of your body leading to the delectable curve of your breasts. As he neared your aerola, he couldn’t help but give it an affectionate lick and gentle suck, smirking when your nipple hardened involuntarily.

You whimper again, squeezing your thighs together. However, Kuni had planted himself firmly between your legs where you sat on the counter, purposely pulling back to push the bulge of his erection onto your core to remind you of your place. Don’t you dare keep your petals a secret.

“I bet you didn’t even know,” he almost scoffs, pinching your nipple as punishment and studying the squeeze of your eyelids in desperation. “That many of my arrangements were made in the image of you… with all those hot pink peonies.”

It’s not long before Kuni brings his lips back to your breasts, addicted to the sound of your soft pants. He sneaks his way down your abdomen, dragging his wet tongue along the alluring stretch towards your pelvis in sloppy kisses. As he finds himself kneeled in front of you, suddenly he hooks your knees around his shoulders to pull your pretty flower to his attention, earning a yelp from you.

He has you exactly where he wants you. Before you can react, Kuni is already diving his mouth between your soft thighs. You immediately dig your fingers into his purple locks, grabbing a fistful to temper his enthusiasm. “K-Kuni!”

The florist pauses, lust-riddled eyes flickering seductively up to you with bated breath. The way his eyebrow quirks up at you exudes a new kind of confidence you had never seen on him before, causing your protests to slowly die in your throat. “What? Don’t trust a professional?”

Kuni’s expression is downright carnal, flicking his tongue out at you teasingly. Your grip on his hair loosens, though he catches the pout of your lips. “I-I trust you.”

“Good, baby,” he exhales, wasting no time in closing the gap to your flower. “Because I’m about to show you the meaning of my favorite color peony.”

You attempt to relax as he nudges his nose between your folds, slowly gliding his tongue over your pussy. It’s an experimental first taste of paradise, one that evokes an erotic sigh of pleasure from you. Kuni hums in contentment against your clit, his humid breath tickling every crevice of your delicious cunt.

Circling his tongue around the sensitive bud, Kuni hangs on to every luscious moan and silent plea for more that spills from you. It spurs him to lick your core eagerly, occasionally taking your outer labia between his lips and briefly but gently sucking it in a wet kiss.

“F-fuck,” you mumble in a hot whine, running both of your hands through the florist’s hair to see how his eyebrows knit together prettily. He’s so focused on pleasing you, slurping the intoxicating concoction that is your essence and his saliva dribbling down his chin. It was so tantalizing, it had you bucking your hips into his face.

Kuni abruptly grabbed your sides to steady himself, and grunted lowly in response. He flatly licked your folds, then moving to suckle your clit. Your groans were making him so utterly taken with you, sliding a hand back down in his boxers to smear precum over the throbbing tip of his erection and fist his length.

All he could do is mutter sweet nothings into the wet cavern of your pussy, praising you for tasting so divine and even letting him please you like this. He traces your folds sensually, eventually pushing his tongue deeper into your plush walls. The sensation is more than enough to have you a whimpering mess, tugging Kuni’s head closer and fucking your cunt onto his tongue.

Your thighs tighten around the florist’s head, but he honestly doesn’t mind if he passes out from a lack of oxygen. In fact, Kuni buries his tongue even further into you, if possible, while his nose teases your aching clit. All of it was worth hearing you beg for him to make you cum.

“O-oh my fucking god, mm,” you whisper, voice dripping with desire. “Y-yes, yes, yes… ‘m so close.”

He nods in acknowledgement, smirking and chuckling into your cunt while salacious groans of his own pour from his lips. Without warning, Kuni rips himself away and wipes his face, leveling his cock with your sopping entrance and nestling just the tip in. You didn’t have time to mourn the loss of your climax as it was replaced with the unexpected girth of his length, your hole fluttering instantaneously.

“Aghhh, goddamnit,” he curses under his breath, verging on a growl. You weren’t used to this side of him, but every surprise had you wanting to see more. He slams his hands on the table on either side of you, lavender eyes glued to the hypnotic spasm of your lovely pussy around his cock. “I can’t believe you’re so tight—just for me.”

“Please,” you mewl, legs wrapped his hips to slowly pull the florist closer and bury his cock just an inch further. The hazy glint in your irises said everything. You swallow thickly, “I need you so bad, Kuni.”

He entangled himself in you, inhaling your scent as he held you tightly by the waist and bottomed out inside of your heavenly walls. Oh, you were simply in a state of breathless ecstasy, melting into his arms. The feeling of fullness within you was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and Kuni’s first real thrust had your legs shaking.

It wasn’t enough. How could he be satisfied without knowing his cock kissed your cervix and bred you nicely?

Nuzzling into your neck, Kuni forced you to the edge of the counter by your ass, giving him better access to relentlessly pound that pretty pussy of yours. You took the hint and laying down on your back submissively, resting your ankles on his shoulders. The florist didn’t dare stop his movements, growing more and more drunk on the mesmerizing sound of your pussy taking him so well.

His hand groped at the bouncing flesh of your breasts. “Archons, (Y/N), why are you so fucking beautiful?”

Kuni’s head leaned onto your left calf, eyes trained only on you in a loving gaze, before turning to kiss your leg as he leisurely fucked you. His hand roamed south of your breasts and planted his thumb on your clit in tight circles, gripping your leg harder against his chest to keep you in place. He wasn’t about to let you squirm away from the pleasure he’s so kindly giving you.

At this point, you were beyond trying to keep your composure. Slutty groans of euphoria filled the humble little shop with every slap of your skin on his. He had you begging, pleading in hot tears for your release. Kuni had repeatedly tempted, teased, and edged you beyond comprehension.

Now here you were yearning for your climax like a whore.

“Ah, fuck, hah… yes, please, please…!” you panted, loving the way Kuni was using you like his perfect little cocksleeve. He looked so sexy with sweat on his brow and his bangs messily sticking to his forehead, the raw girth of his cock stretching you so good with each thrust. Frankly, you were reduced to incoherent babbling—coaxing the peak of both your climaxes. “Mm, so, so good. Gonna… gonna cum, I-I…”

“Mhmm, it’s okay, yeah… ‘m gonna fucking cum all in you,” Kuni frantically nods, sucking in a sharp breath and trembling all over as he cums simultaneously with you. He keeps his cock fully sheathed in your pulsating pussy, a myriad of praises and curses flow freely between the both of you. “Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

“Nnghh, yes,” you replied with guttural enthusiasm, eyes rolling in the back of your head as your orgasm washes away. “I fucking love you.”

Kuni is barely able to support you in the aftershock of that mind-breaking pleasure, clutching you to his chest and breathing wildly. Whether it was the sex talking or not, he didn’t care. He had you in this moment and would never let go, he vowed.

The florist’s eyes flickered to a bouquet of red peonies sitting on his workbench with a soft smile.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

[vixlenxe]

⛓️ because you know it has to happen

Send “ ⛓ ” for an arranged marriage starter.

"Is this a joke?!?!" Rage boiled in each words that left Kunikuzushi’s lips, making the attendee who had just delivered the unsavory news on the other side of the screen jump. He wouldn’t put it past the prince to walk past the screen just to come cut him down. 

“I am the Eldest son of the Shogun, the former heir, & now I’ve been demoted to a marriage pawn?!?!” Kunikuzushi had already risen from his seated position & was pacing about. How, how, could his mother do this to him? Not just to take away his heirdom, but now also selling him off to some random princess of a pointless country? Since when did the Shogun care about relationships with other countries? Much less this ‘Makoto’ place, from what he knew from his studies, it was truly a pathetic place.

“T-The Shogun believes it an ideal place to ally with. Not only a neutral kingdom, but rich in resources. We stand to make no enemies & not endanger Inazuma’s own neutrally.” The attendee try to explain, while hiding the fear in his tone.

“Get. Out.” Kunikuzushi responded coldly, after promptly smashing a vase on the stand near the screen with his bare fist, making his palms bleed. How dare she! How dare his mother do this! She was just trying to get rid of him, wasn’t she?

[lucistarrrrs]

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Raiden Ei!Reader.

Summary: Lucifer met Y/n in the cake shop and she's a powerful overlord feared by sinners and well respect.

Genre: Fluff.

Warning: Bad Grammar

Lucifer was just walking to the pentagram city, but until he saw some sinners trembling in fear and walking quickly to get away, what were they running away from?

He took a closer look, and his eyes sparkled. It's beautiful dark violet hair that became lighter at the ends, and as Y/N turned around to the king of himself,.

Lucifer stared into her purple eyes with light blue pupils. She was tall, just like Lilith's height. Y/N was eating dango and sweets while staring at him.

Y/N has two names, Ei or Shogun. In her district, Raiden Shogun is in charge. Their Raiden Shogun is her puppet that she created her first creation is Kunikuzushi.

Lucifer offered Y/N to have some chitchat, and they talked about something that Lucifer troubling his relationship with Charlie.

"But I'm trying my best to support her dream and be there for her," Lucifer spouted, and his gaze reflected what Lucifer said: that his daughter and the king have some issues.

"Hmm? You seem kind of having issues then, but that's not my problem anyway?" Y/N said directly, not understanding what he said. Lucifer was shocked, pale, and dumbfounded.

Y/N was eating the last piece of the cake. "Did you eat all of the cake?" Lucifer asked her, and Y/N nodded. She left some icing on her lips.

"I do have two kids, but... He thinks that I abandoned him, but I don't wish to take control over him, and I have a daughter who looks like me, but she seems cold and stern." Y/N stated, sipping her tea, and looked at Lucifer. "And I locked myself in the Plane of Euthymia. I left my puppet to take charge, but they two called me mom or mother. I don't know why?" Y/N stated and sipped her tea, looking at Lucifer. She was shocked by the fact that her two kids are in charge of her district and the other one was abandoned by her, but she doesn't want control.

"So you're saying that your kids are puppets?" Lucifer questioned Y/N, and she nodded. "They don't have dick and vagina, Lucifer; they're puppets," Y/n said to Lucifer, sipping her tea again. Lucifer choked on his tea after she said that.

"But it's nice talking to you," Lucifer stuttered, and with a little blush, Y/N giggled. "Hey, try this dango; I just went to the human world." Y/N offered the dango to Lucifer.

Lucifer takes it and eats the dango; it's delicious. As Lucifer finishes eating the dango, Y/N offers some dango milk, and Lucifer drinks it.

 

Time skip 

 

Lucifer was walking to the hotel and humming some sweetly and giddly. Charlie was looking at her father, who was so in love and smitten all of a sudden. 

"Dad, why are you being smitten all of a sudden?" Charlie asked his father. Lucifer didn't listen to what Charlie was saying; he was distracted by Y/N in his mind.

Charlie waved her hands at his face, but he was daydreaming, and she snapped her fingers, but there was no response. Charlie looked at Vaggie, but she shrugged her shoulders. But someone knocks on the door. Vaggie opens the door, and it is revealed that Y/N smiles softly at Vaggie. 

"Hello, is this Hazbin Hotel? I've seen the battle of yours; it's quite entertaining." Y/N chirped and exclaimed as Vaggie shut the door closed. She blinked. She was anxious again. 'Did I say something bad? ' Y/N thought as the door opened. It's Charlie.

"Hello, Ms. Shogun, please come in," Charlie greeted Y/N. "Please call me, Y/n. It's clearly you speaking to my daughter. I'm sorry for her behavior. She's just functioning." Y/n breathed, put her hands together, and smiled.

Lucifer saw Y/N, and he walked towards her. "Welcome to the Hotel Y/N," Lucifer greeted her. "It's a pleasure, Lucifer Morningstar," Y/n said to Lucifer.

Angel looked at Lucifer, and Y/N whispered to Charlie,It's your dad in love with her or something, because I feel the tension between them." Angel whispered to Charlie, and Charlie was confused by it and looked at her dad's gaze at Y/N while talking to her.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer tour around Y/N to learn about the redemption of rehabilitated sinners.

"Rehabilitated sinners, huh? It can work though," Y/N said, and for a moment, Charlie and Lucifer watched her thinking.

 

"That's a big dream. I hope Heaven won't crush your dream, Charlie," Y/N said, like a mother supporting her dream. She touched her cheeks and smiled, and Charlie's eyes sparkled. It's like her mother is supporting it.

"I should probably go now; my assistant, Sara, is probably worried about me," Y/N said as they came down the stairs as Y/N was about to leave.

 

"Hey, Y/N, how about we go out tomorrow in the restaurant, and I could order all of the desserts?" Lucifer asked with his charming smile. When she turned around, she heard desserts. Her eyes sparkled, and she held his hands.

 

„Desserts! Ohh, my lovely hell, of course I'll go.“ Y/N cheered and wrote her address, giving it to Lucifer.

 

„I'll see you tomorrow then, bye Lucifer.“ Y/N waved goodbye and left a smile on her face.

 

Leaving the hotel crew, what just happened? The powerful overlord was just rizzed by Lucifer. "Oh my stars, did the king of himself charm the powerful overlord?" Alastor, teasing him as Lucifer glared at him, walked towards to Alastor Charlie, stop his dad.

[kaixserzz]

eons adrift ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ wanderer x gn!reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎐 ꒱ "i'll come and find you in every life celestia will give me." "that's not possible, you and i both know that." "watch me!"

 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ cw: character analysis-ish, mildly proofread, drabble but it's kinda messy, its more like an idea than a fic LOLLL im sorry, hurt/comfort

scaramouche took you for a naive fool, just as he was when oh so stupidly believed those words as kunikuzushi.

you are but a human. a mere breath of his everlasting eternity. a few hundreds of years and he would forget everything about you.

insignificant, you humans were.

frail.

vulnerable.

so so easy to break.

as he walked into the path of darkness; consuming him and turning him into someone he doesn't recognize in the mirror no longer—kabukimono, kunikuzushi, the love of your life, was long gone. memories like the leaves that turn yellow and crumble to ashes as winter approaches.

yet the winter will remain in his empty chest for as long as he walks teyvat. churning into a blizzard of ice cold pain, destroying everything around him as it grows. he continues to walk this wretched path he chose.

but then he met someone, rekindling the spark that was once there beneath his porcelain skin. trying to light up a burn out wick, to bring an end to his winter and bring forth the beautiful spring he was once.

scaramouche never thought he'd love again.

even after all through the pain he went from the doctor's experiments, after roaming the great expanse of the abyss, after becoming the balladeer, the 6th of the fatui harbingers, he still felt.

love.

happiness.

pain.

sorrow.

and regret.

he hates it, but he loves them, just as much as he loved you.

though he allowed someone new worm their way into his heart, he kept them in arm's reach. he cannot bear to be vulnerable to someone else. they were human, they were to die; he is a puppet, he is meant to live on forever.

but then he heard them say things only you would say. giving him lavender melons you bought off the market, accidentally calling him names only you would know.

he remember that promise you made him before you died.

"i'll come and find you in every life celestia will give me."

scaramouche did not understand what he felt when he realized that his new lover, was in fact, just a reincarnation of you. and just like that, your name burns back itself into his mind—a name he thought he had erased into obscurity, along with his past.

he was a fool, scaramouche thought. he laughed at himself, a laugh void of humor, nor joy.

it was your name, your first incarnation, just in a different language.

it appears that scaramouche didn't like this feeling. of bitter butterflies in his stomach, the familiarity when you try to get close to him, the same smile you had, the light full of love in your eyes—it was all too much for him.

so he left you in the snow of his ever growing blizzard. buried under the thick layers of freezing ice.

and again, to your next reincarnation. a fatui, a vendor, an adventurer, a knight, a scholar—male, female, neither, or all of them; tall, short, plump, slim, dark or light skinned,

he cannot bear to lose you just as he first did.

slipping by his fingers, to the one thing he is not affected by.

death.

he doesn't accept the fact that your love has led you back to him, again and again.

why do you even keep coming back? don't you know he's part of the fatui? don't you know what he has done? don't you know what he has become?

and yet you'd knock on his door, calling his name with your voice full of warmth, arms wide for him to take and allow himself to be called yours again—all he had to do was open the door.

he has kept a lock on it ever since he met you again.

worn down and rotten; chains all rusted, handle jammed and barely working. he approaches the door once again. this time, as wanderer. a better version of himself,

one that's finally willing to open the door to you.

but you weren't there anymore, waiting for him on the other side.

how could you? you were never there in the first place.

not with this version of himself.

not as the wanderer.

and maybe that was for the best. even though he cries himself to sleep at night for all the things he has done to you. weeping, as he curls onto the sheets, praying to the stars above in hopes you'd hear his heartbroken apologies, yearning for your love, your touch, your smiles—

this was his punishment for hurting you, for being a fool. he was underserving of your love, after all.

"hey, wanderer, was it?"

a new voice, someone unfamiliar. he refrained from sighing, for buer's sake, and instead took a deep, refreshing breath. he turns, and the stranger smiles brightly at him.

immediately, as if the winds of spring has hit him all so suddenly in the face. the fragrance of blooming flowers that was once buried under the snow, the sun shining brightly in the skies, and birds chirping symphonies.

like the mornings brimming with new found hope, the smell of dew sticking onto his clothes as he trace his fingers all over the a tree's trunk. like the the juices of a fruit he sank his teeth into, dribbling down the corners of his lips and down his arms.

warmth tingled on his skin, and his heart leaps.

"nice to meet you!" you say your name, a name he has heard hundreds of versions before, all so different and yet they all felt and tasted like honey dripping down his tongue. "i hope we get along."

"yeah," he says, almost breathless, as the tears begins to well in his eyes. his fingers tremble, and his smile grew wobbly. tipping his hat down to avoid your gaze, his voice cracks. "i hope so too."

his door was wide open, waiting for you come in.

you grin, and take a step inside.

 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

author's note: "i thought this was a dottore only blog? SHUT UP!!!!! SHUT UP!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM MAD AT MYSELF TOO BUT THIS IS FOR @fatuismooches also new format because im too lazy to open my files :/ not back yet, i just wanna write this for the pookie 💗💗 ty for listening to me ramble like a madman ur single handedly gettin me thru it ong LMAOOO /lh

[seilahscopium]

Jealousy of Mine

♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡ 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Scaramoiche/Wanderer/Kunikuzushi

𝐬𝐰𝐨'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: highschool au. lazily proofread. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scara, who's that classmate of yours that's always picking on you one way or another. whether it's calling you names, starting competitions, or taking your last piece of gum before a math final. you, who doesn't back down from a fight when you see it and call him names right back, smirking when you get a higher grade than him, and even going as far as taking his wallet so you can buy a soda can from the vending machine. all he knows is he hates you. he hates that smile of yours. he hates it when you talk to him when no one else will. he hates how you have specific nicknames just for him. he hates all of it. ...so why is he getting all protective over you when he sees some random bullies shoving you in a locker because you couldn't shut your big ass mouth. he finds you in the boy's locker room, in his locker, and opens it, cringing as he does so. "are you a fucking creep this is low even for you..." his words trail off into silence when he sees bruises on your arms and his brows knit into a frown. he grabs your wrist and yanks you out of the locker, demanding to know who did this. he's pissed. not at you. but because someone dared to do to you what he does. only he's allowed to do stuff like this to you. only he's allowed to be mean to you. no one else. "aww, is someone getting soft for me?" you hum with a lazy smirk. you feel his grip on your wrist tighten and you hiss. "Scara can you loosen the grip there? i just got shoved in a damn locker give me a pause." "just shut up for two seconds will you and give me the damn names?" "why should i tell you" "i swear to god if i have to ask again" anddddddd you two already bickering again. Scara, who takes you to the nurse's office to get you an ice pack, and when you finally tell him the names he goes so nonchalant it was a complete contrast to when he was questioning you. "oh. those guys. really?" his arms are crossed and he's leaning against the wall while you put the ice pack against your cheek that was bruised. "they're so weak. surprised you couldn't have done anything, guess you really are a worm" hmm. so he's not freaking out. it seems he's not that concerned anymore. until the next day rolled around and the people who shoved you in the locker were missing from school. "yeah they never got home last night. don't you find that weird?" you asked Scara, who sat right beside you. "nah, that group was rumored to be taking drugs or something late at night. so they must've stayed out for longer this time," he replied, bored. "mm. makes sense." and it slips from your mind. forgetting they never made it home and they were no longer people in your life. sometimes, Scara will rant to an unlucky victim about what an "uggo" you are cause you pissed him off. it was an unlucky victim because the key was to just stay silent. don't agree or disagree during Scara's fit. and they did not stay silent because they just had to have an opinion. "they're so annoying! that uggo really thinks she's all that! her looks match her horrible personality. and she barely has any manners and just wants to start shit with me!" not exactly true. since he was the one who took her erasure so now she took three of his pencils that had an erasure on it. and, she wasn't really planning on giving them back. "and she was wearing these heels that made her taller than me and were too loud-" "yn? ugly?" Scara's heart seemed to stop at those words from the guy next to him. "I think she's quite attractive though?" Scara completely froze at this point, trying to comprehend what this complete nobody was even saying. "she's also nice. she gave me her lunch money the other day and saved me the starvation. i wonder why you would hate-" "what?" Scara was glaring at the person, his eyes glowing with...anger? no..it wasn't that. it was jealousy. Scara crossed his arms with a 'hmph' and looked ahead at the board, looking very upset.

the person was left confused and just went back to talking to his friend nearby, but little did he know Scara was spiraling in his mind. if this kid ended up getting close to you and would eventually break your heart because that's what people do in relationships, wouldn't he be putting you through pain? a nobody like him putting you through pain just like those bullies. why does everyone seem to want to hurt you? only he's allowed to hurt you don't they know this? you're his. to bully. to hurt. to wound. to yell at. and he's kind enough to give you breaks once in a while and look after your health. and he would help put you back together each time. he would take care of you. but they wouldn't. they don't care. and thats how this kid next to him. who said nothing bad at all. became a threat to Scara and your world just like those bullies did. Scara, who later that evening has a knife to the classmates throat in a deserted place with no eye witnesses, and was threatening him. this guy was going to take you away from him and hurt you. he had to prevent that didnt he? there was cuts on the guys arms, legs, a few on his cheek, and maybe a bruise forming on his stomach where scara currently put pressure on with his foot. he looked down at the pleading victim. "so you'll leave them alone? you won't talk to her ever again?" "yes yes! i'm sorry i won't speak of her or go within a 7-foot radius of her! im sorry! a-and i won't tell anyone about this! so you can get exactly what you want!" what a wuss. this was so damn boring. "hmm"

the guy under him seemed relieved, thinking Scara was going to say yes. "actually..." Scara put the knife under the guy's chin, making them force eye contact. "i think i don't wanna do that. everyones bound to break their promises. better safe than sorry, don't you think?" the guys face dropped and was going to yell but... "sorry not sorry," he said, making a swift cut across the guy's neck. Scara looked down at the lifeless body and groaned at the thought of your annoying complaining. you'd probably whine and say "this isnt right!" he goes on to hide the body. it'll surely save him the headache. he was used to it. Scara has only done it a few times. even before the bullies. one time it was actually a teacher, that was actually an interesting threat he dealt with. teenagers were just boring compared to adults it seemed.

he put all the threats where they belonged. buried and dead in different parts of the woods. he even had to separate the bullies' body parts since they were so big. don't you see how much work you are putting him through?? strangely enough, the victim's words echoed in his head. y/n? ugly? I think they are quite attractive though? ...then you came to mind. smiling whenever you did something right. that cute pout you had when he beat you in sports. and those times you'd steal his wallet to get soda but you'd always bring him a snack or drink too. ...ah. "damn it" he murmured. Scara placed his forehead on the handle of the shovel, blushing. as far as he's concerned. you were average. and you gave him more work to do than he'd initially like to put himself through. if anyone saw him, they would feel highly uncomfortable and even call him mad. he had a splotch of blood on his cheek. some dirt on his hands. and a body on the ground in front of him that he was currently covering with the shovel. and he was blushing over a girl.

[voidfragments]

@grislyintentions (for layla!) | starter call

the night sky over sumeru is rather different from the one over inazuma--to be expected, to a certain degree, given the distance between the two nations, but interesting nonetheless. how different, exactly, kunikuzushi can't say with much certainty--it's only relatively recently that he's begun to take an interest in the stars above, after all--but he's certain that the formation of constellations, the arrangement of lights in the black sky, here, is different than the one in his memories of home.

perched on the highest branches of a tree a outside the city, idly observing the cosmos, the puppet starts as he hears someone approaching, only to relax when he sees who it is. he doesn't know much about the woman, but enough to know she's not a threat. if anything, she seems somewhat jumpy; best alert her to his presence now. who knows, maybe she'll leave him alone, though he's not sure he'd terribly mind her company if she decided to stay--if nothing else, she doesn't seem irritating.

the wind blows, rustling leaves and drawing attention up towards the top of the tree. to the student below, he says, "i remember you. the rtawahist representative from that contest, right? here for the view, i take it?"

[jayvolans]

𝗼𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐜𝐞 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝗺 𝐬𝗺𝐚𝐮

𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄

Yesterday had been a day of consistent… well inconsistencies for you. Ayato texting you? 0/10, never happens and for good reason. Letting it ruin your day, however? -10/10, absolutely awful, humiliating, mortifying- Meeting a (cute) stranger and actually taking a liking to him? Breaks the scale.

And as much as you wanted to kick yourself for it, you couldn’t help but admit that he was incredibly attractive. In the same way Ayato was. Calculating, elegant, intelligent… you clearly had a type.

Still, talking to him didn’t make you feel self-conscious and he wasn’t condescending, so that was already a plus. Rolling your eyes at your train of thought, you leaned back in your chair and away from your laptop.

At this rate, your homework was never going to get done. The sound of dangerous sizzling certainly didn’t help. At his own specialty desk, Zandik was mixing a blue liquid with some kind of fluorescent green powder. His eyebrows were furrowed as he carefully measured something out, causing you to sigh.

Even out of class and a lab, Zan couldn’t help but tinker around on his own side projects, and while usually he knew exactly what not to do in the house, none of you would ever forget the time he created some kind of toxic vapor and caused an evacuation. After Rosalyn had passed out.

Needless to say, you didn’t want to distract him at this very moment, but you were bored. Usually you would nag Rosalyn until she went shopping with you or Kuni until he agreed to entertain you, but they were both busy.

“I can feel you staring at me, you know,” Zandik mumbled, still observing the semi-violent reaction. You sighed and walked over to him. “Sorry, I’m just bored, I guess. And my essay is kicking my ass, at the moment,” You groaned, plopping your head down onto his shoulder.

Zandik paused before setting down his equipment. “And you want me to entertain you? Why don’t you go text that Alhaitham guy,” He teased, a smirk playing at his lips.

You just rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to him. “Still bitter you got kicked out?” You laughed. He let out a huff before standing, causing you to stumble forward. And you would’ve fallen face first into his experiment if it wasn’t for his hand catching your collar.

“Alright, come on, we’re going out. We could both use a break, clearly.” And who were you to argue with that?

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯❆ 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭❆ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭❆

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯)❧

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