lowkeyartist!sukuna who makes videos in his room to post on his instagram. Most of it is just him making new tunes that would most definitely be sampled by an artist sooner or later, while some are covers.
But I think what people mostly know him for is the different lady - or ladies - they see in the background sleeping in his bed. His name on twitter grows hectic whenever they see the girls in the back in some of his videos, slamming and dragging his name. Regardless, he stays radio silent on it.
It’s not until a song that had used one of his vids for a sample went popular and he begrudgingly goes live on instagram for his first Q&A due to popular demand. The questions flood in when his fans realise it’s not bullshit and he actually is there to talk with them.
And, like true Sukuna signature, there’s a mystery lady in his sheets behind him. The live notices immediately when he shifts a little to the edge giving them a glimpse of you, almost like he wants them to see.
“Does it wobble? Don’t make me end this live,” he says sternly, trying to subtly read questions that aren’t about you behind him in the chat. He finds it funny how the whole internet has been in an uproar this past year due to your constant impulse on making your hair look different every other month - different girls, like he’d ever, the thought makes him scoff.
“Why do you bring over so many girls? what do you mean? It’s just one,” he teases, his head turning over his shoulder to peek at you - yep, still sleeping.
His taunts to the questions have everyone on edge, and you’re just peacefully in dreamland. His scowl deepens when he sees many people question his honesty on the last answer, so he finally breaks and he reveals the long awaited truth.
“It’s just one girl because it’s my fiancé, we’ve been together since I started this shit,” he leans back in his chair, relief flowing through his veins now that everyone knows, “why does she look different all the time? My girl’s just impulsive.”
Time-in
Kinich is not the most humble guy when it comes to setting hours to Ajaw's timeout and Ajaw hates it to the core. He hates it so much that he counts every single second until he can leave that stupid place and Kinich knows it, which is why he almost always prepares to have the pixelated dinosaur flying around him, screaming how reliefed he is to be out again... but not when he's fucking you.
Kinich is raw. He'll fuck you for hours in many kind of positions until he's made sure that your are full of him without emiting a single, clear moan. It's all whispers of praise and hums done inside his throat. It's not because he doesn't enjoy that kind of activity, he actually enjoys it like you're gonna die tomorrow, after all, he even manages to lose track of time, no matter how perfect he is with timing.
"Ahhh!!! Feels so good to be out aga-" Little Ajaw suddenly popped out from Kinich's back very excited to be out, but before he could start doing little 'celebration' dance where he’d just twerk his buttocks around, the scene and sounds below him made his whole tiny body freeze, to a point where half his forehead was blue due to the shock.
"A-Ajaw..?!" You moaned his name out in despair, using all the strength you had left to try angling your intimate body parts away from Ajaw's big eyes, but you can’t ‘un-view’ things unfortunately.
Kinich didn't even realize Ajaw's presence at first, so he got confused when you said that and turned to his back him right away, already ready to act tough on the poor dinosaur who was witnessing raw human breeding.
"Leave." Kinich scolded him with an annoyed voice tone, trying to censor your body from him by hugging you closer to his chest, but not a single muscle of his face moved as he did so, neither did he stop thrusting your swollen cunt, going back at staring at your pathetic sex face as soon as he was done ordering the pixel around.
Ajaw's jaw trembled some times, probably trying to find something to respond, but the view he was witnessing of his servant’s dick being so roughly inserted in such an angelic and modest woman like you to a point where you were all naked and broken into a hungry slut with sweaty hair, a creampie in your belly and so many marks of bites, hickeys and handprints all over you done by Kinich, was making him so uncomfortable that he just flew back to his timeout zone. Yes, he went to timeout on his own just because he was that uncomfortable. Just the fact that his servant knew what sex in the first place bothered him! You and Kinich seemed so modest talking to each other that in his eyes you two would never be able to do such carnal activity, especially a kinky one.
"K-Kinich! S-Slow down-! I-I just came, please!"
Were the last words he heard from Tevyat before he was back to his little pixelated jungle realm.
Silly little thought about Kinich before I finish my actual next post 😋
🤭
your roommate is obsessed with you! but you're hiding your own dirty little secret.
includes: nsfw! scara, tartaglia and bonus character separately, weird roommate behavior, use of their real names, weird reader behavior, tartaglia's is pretty long, fingering, begging, somno(?), pillow humping, missed tags. the bonus isn't as long as the other ones!
a/n: this was so much fun to write ! suzu helped me decide who to write for so the bonus at the end is dedicated to @hitomisuzuya !!
"hey, i can't find one of my shirts can I go check your room for it?"
you give him a thumbs up as he makes his way to your door. now, he wasn't entirely lying, he was actually missing a couple of shirts! but, he knows you do all your laundry over the weekend, so your basket should be overflowing with dirty clothes by now. he does a quick check of the hall once more before shutting the door to your room. he's beelining straight for your pile of laundry. he starts rummaging through the trash like a raccoon but finally finds what he's searching for.
the cute panties you wear! the pair he'd stolen a week prior had lost your scent a while ago and it was starting to drive him crazy. he raises the newly acquired pair to his nose and he's twitching in his pants. but this isn't the place for that! it would be kinda hard to explain what was going on if you saw him bent over your laundry with a raging hard-on. so he quickly throws the old pair in and covers it up with the rest of your clothes. he shoves the new pair deep in his pocket before walking back to the living room, loosely announcing he didn't find it and heading for the kitchen.
the house is quiet when scara comes back. too quiet. his last class had been canceled, but you were free the entire day. so where were you? the house is usually filled with sounds of you doing something to keep yourself occupied.
it's the sounds that catch him first. they're..moans? they sound hushed, but they're definitely coming from his room. he peers through the crack in the door and the sight is truly one to behold.
there you are, small fingers tugging at your nipples as you roll your hips against the pillow, his pillow. that shirt he went to "search for" in your room? bunched up between your pretty lips as you try to stifle your whines. he's drinking up the scene, trying to etch this beautiful moment into his mind as hard as possible before clearing his throat.
his arms are folded and he's leaning against the doorpost. the corner of his lips twitch up as your eyes meet his. you're like a deer caught in headlights and his smile only gets bigger as you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out.
"well, i see where my shirt went."
"open," he commands as his hand grips your jaw. the heavy drop of saliva hits your lolled-out tongue before you swallow. he hums as he's sliding his leaking cock back into your warmth. eye rolling back into your head, you're gripping onto the sheets tightly as he starts ramming into you.
"you slut, fuck, riding my pillow like that, hm?"
the only response he gets is the soft cry of his name. every whine, every cry, and every moan just fuels him further as his hips connect with yours. his hands are pressing your knees to your chest so he can have the best view of your cunt.
"the minute my head hit the pillow, i would've known. you know why?"
you weakly motion toward his bedside table. specifically the drawer where he keeps his... mementos of you. it should've set him off how quickly you knew what he was talking about, but all you could feel was the way he twitched against your most sensitive spots. you're even going through his stuff now? it's just so fun to think about. how you'd peek over your shoulder at the door to make sure he wasn't coming; how your eyes widened when you spotted the contents of the drawer. did you run away right then? or did you press your thighs together because you finally know what he really is.
but you've done such a good job so far of keeping it quiet! so good. that he's going to breed you as a reward for how nasty you are! you're drooling so much at the thought! your hands are dragging one of his towards your throat as you beg him to fill you up.
"kuni, please-, wanna feel you so bad. wanna feel all of you!"
and it's those words that send him over the edge, spilling deep into you as he groans deep into your skin. that action sends you over, as you cum around his still sheathed cock. both of you are panting and burnt out, but he still finds the energy to trap you in a heavy kiss. you whine into his lips in pure contentment.
ajax is the best roommate! he's funny, caring, and knows how to take care of the house really well. hell, he's paying for all the groceries and at some point he even started paying your portion of the rent!
to top it all off, hes so so sweet! he's planning movie nights, finding games for you two to play and helping you out in the kitchen as you make dinner. his big arms wrap around you as you doze off against his body while you favorite sitcom is playing in the background.
it's too bad it's all just a front though, because in all reality he's waiting for the perfect time to pin you down and fuck you so hard like he's been dreaming of all these months! he can't count how many times he's pressed his ear to the thin wall that divides your room as he pumps his cock to the sound of your voice as you talk to your friend over the phone. the actual conversation is none of his concern; just the way you speak, the way your voice drips out is tugging his orgasm out of him at full speed.
or the way you tempt him without even knowing it. those shorts you wear around the house that just barely cover the curve of your ass? he has to physically restrain himself from pressing you onto his crotch. with your nipples poking through the lightly colored tank top on your body. he's practically gawking at you shamelessly until you turn your attention back to him and he's giving you that almost genuine smile one more time.
he's scrolling through all the pictures he'd taken of you sleeping when the knock at the door whips him out of his trance. the sound had scared him so hard he squeezed his eyes shut! of course it was you. who else would be at his door at this hour? he refuses to answer as you call out his name through the wood. the door slowly opens anyways. he's asleep, you think to yourself as you pad across the floor towards the bed.
it's not new for you to crawl between his sheets like this. on the nights when you're feeling not the best, he always opens his arms (and blankets) to you! so it should be no different now that he's 'asleep'. he can feel your back press against his chest as you try your best not to wake him. he pretends to groan and does his own shifting around until his nose is nestled in your neck and one of his hands is around your waist while the other is laid on your hip.
everything is still for a bit. he savors the warmth emitting from your body and the scent of the shampoo you use overcomes his senses. until you start shifting around. you're probably just trying to get comfortable, but it's been going on for minutes and he's starting to get a little riled up. it seems almost calculated as you push back against him. he's not sure what to make of the sigh that leaves you.
your hand lightly clasps his and you guide it downwards. this can't be real. his body is so stiff right now, but he doesn't want to move in case you stop! with just a little bit of struggling, you managed to get his hand into your underwear. your hand finds the top of his as you move his fingers slightly further down. you're soaking wet, using the pads of his fingers to brush against your clit a few times.
your fingers are moving down softly once again as you push them into your hole. your breath hitches and you feel so good, so soft around his fingers. you're moving them in and out now, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip. but you can only get them in so far before your own fingers are getting in the way.
this is short-lived as tartaglia harshly curls his fingers into you. you're gasping out an airy "ajax!" as he draws you farther into his body with his other arm.
"if you wanted my help, you could've just asked, cutie."
the way his voice is low in your ear makes you clamp around his digits as he finger fucks you. his lips are on your neck now, dutifully marking you up as you squirm against his body. he's grinding into you from the back as he finds that spot that has you arching and moaning out even louder. he's prodding at that spot now and your body starts to shake. the sensation of feeling you cum all over his hand has him spiraling and cumming into his own shorts. you're starting to relax against his chest once more, but he's turning you onto your front with his hard cock pressing against your ass. you gasp at how hard he is, and he takes the opportunity to slip the fingers the fingers that were in you into your mouth. he smiles as you start to suck on them. he's going to have so much fun with you tonight.
another nightmare has him sitting up in his bed. he's reaching over to grab his water bottle because of how dry his throat is, but it's empty. he groans as he throws the covers off of him. his eyes widen as he hits the bottom of the staircase. there you are, fingers rubbing messy circles on your clit as your legs are spread across the back of the living room couch. you purr his name, his real name out so beautifully as your eyes are squeezed shut, lost in your chase for pleasure.
"enjoying yourself, doll?"
the voice has you shooting up from the chair. there aventurine stood, one hand on his hip, bottle in the other as he smiled slyly at you. his messy hair signified that he'd just woken up, but he still looked as beautiful as ever. he raises his hands up.
"don't let me stop your fun! keep going."
is all he says as he starts to make his way towards the kitchen. you meekly call out his name and he stops in his tracks, craning his head to the side to peer at you once more.
"help, please?"
his mouth may have been dry, but yours definitely wasn't. you're slobbering all over his length, the nasty sounds coming from you causing him to moan. as much as he loves the warmth of your mouth, he'd much rather experience your cunt. so he's pulling you off of him and signaling you to straddle him.
the stretch is ungodly as you slide fully down onto him. you're bending over to catch his lips in a wet kiss as his hands find the fat of your hips. you're rolling them now, nails raking over the exposed expanse of his chest as he fucks up into you slowly.
he's always hated his nightmares with a fiery passion, but he's willing to let this one go just for tonight.
"Now…would you say that human nature led me to this? Or am I a product of the cards I've been dealt?"
🗂️Patient File: Patient Gojo has been admitted to a specialized psychiatric hospital following a compulsive massacre and assault on the city of Shibuya|Causes/triggers that led to the patient’s mental decline and subsequent carnage in Shibuya are currently speculative; however, they are suspected to be linked to a prolonged period of confinement within a cube-like structure. Information regarding the mechanics of this structure and the patient’s history remain undisclosed to the ward and the public. 🩺Job Description: You are the only nurse in Tokyo—specifically assigned by an unknown secret society related to the patient—who is able to manage and care for patient Gojo. His violent and erratic behavior has left multitudes of staff members in shambles and disarray as he quickly disposed of them one after another. But for reasons unknown—a complete mystery to yourself as well—you have somehow managed to cross Gojo's barriers and earn his approval to be his one and only caretaker. Your duties include: daily routine patient care, observation and monitoring, therapy, adherence to protocol, and thorough documentation to be directly reported to the Director at the end of every shift. Be wary: Patient Gojo exhibits characteristics consistent with an extensive history of manipulation, obsessive behavior, and charismatic engagement. The patient's ability to charm and manipulate requires that staff be particularly cautious about their own psychological well-being. Exercise heightened emotional regulation and remain professional at all times to ensure that personal feelings do not affect judgment or quality of patient care. 📋Length of Admission (w.c): 10 unpredictable intervals 💊Intake Chart (tags): Patient is prone to: sporadic fits of violence; manipulation; flirtatious conduct, verbiage, and assault; over-obsessive tendencies; fluctuating attachment styles, narcissistic dialogue, and an insatiable compulsive urge to [REDACTED]. 🏥Orientation: August 14, 2024
doctor's angel's note: - Check the acknowledgment box (like) - Forward your copy (reblog) to accept this position. - Sign below (comment) to subscribe to the patient's weekly updates (tag list). S/O: @blkkizzat for the teaser inspo|Check out their teaser of the juicy, delectable Yakuza!Toji x Reader story that I cannot wait to get my hands on, The Nursery
synopsis: your best friend is tired of being single. she wants to fall in love. she wants to become like the female leads she's watching from romance movies. so being the supportive and kind best friend you are, you decided to help her! except that the guy she has her eyes on happens to be your long-term crush from your middle-high school days. surely, you're not the one who will fall for him... right?
― or in which you try to avoid falling for your crush but fate has other plans.
pairings: scaramouche x fem!reader
status: on - going
genre/warnings: social media au, modern au, fluff, crack, slowburn, college au, time stamps don't matter, mentions of alcohol, kys/kms jokes, swearing, tba
started: 10 - 11 - 24
ended: tba !
taglist: CLOSED!
profiles:
✒︎ y/n and 99 others || ✒︎ hot and cold
chapters:
✒︎ playlist
✒︎ start. no fcking way ✎
✒︎ 01. looks away respectfully
✒︎ 02. chance
✒︎ 03. my type
✒︎ 04. reluctance
✒︎ 05. a you problem
✒︎ 06. here we go again
✒︎ 07. ok rude
✒︎ 08. who ✎
✒︎ 09. that should be me
✒︎ 10. different ✎
𒀸 cut.
✒︎ 11. u asking me on a date?
✒︎ 12. lock your doors
✒︎ 13. lunch date! ✎
✒︎ 14. i said what i said
✒︎ 15. serves you right
✒︎ 16. on read
✒︎ 17. he likes someone
✒︎ 18. friends
✒︎ 19. can we talk?
✒︎ 20. feels like a real home ✎
✒︎ 21. mind your own business
✒︎ 22. for sale
✒︎ 23. is it bad?
✒︎ 24. this you?
✒︎ 25. the tables have turned
𒀸 cut.
✒︎ 26. calling it
✒︎ 27. let's meet
✒︎ 28. soon ✎
✒︎ 29. no shit sherlock
✒︎ 30. habibi
✒︎ 31. run away ✎
✒︎ 32. look at me
✒︎ 33. jealousy at its finest
✒︎ 34.
✒︎ 35.
✑ tba !
⟣ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (closed):
@livelaughlovekuni @shyentsmissingink @xionri @alatusorrow @skyoverkill1 @illu-fu @lololol00 @saechiro @stratusworld @dazqa @eunseok-s @jiminscarmex @yhailey @samyayaya @help-whatdoimakemyusername @ilovwfurina @blvdmrcnry @trulyylee @morgyyyyyyy @y3u11aiu @misswetty @heusalettle @lalalaloveallmydays @jayzioxx @scaraenthusiast1 @raineyun @kunikissr @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @nishislcve @v4lerixxq @lxkeeeee @liuaneee @kuniz-darlingg @phoenix-eclipses @manhdayyyy @anqelkoz @ariesloves @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @kioffy @ihatebananas120 @eternallykira-143 @suniika @almond-t0fu @projectsfantasy @vi0let-writes @constellationguy @usagiarchive @aetherialcrafter @angelkazusstuff @shidouuuliner
aries-afk © 2024. || please do not repost, or plagiarize !! all genshin characters i write for belongs to hoyoverse.
Say it with your hands Scaramouche x gn!reader Tropes Hurt comfort? Sort of. Just rambles about kuni
Scaramouche loved you.
You knew that, there's no way he didn't. The soft eyes he gave you paired with the silent promise of love. But it was always silent with him. It was like he expected you to know he felt the same.
And you did. You knew he wasn't someone that could declare bold statements of love like you. But the fact always lingered in your mind.
Did he not want to? Did he think it was useless? Did he think you were useless?
“What are you frowning about?” you heard his voice call out. Both of you were tangled together in bed. His lavender-hued eyes were hazy with sleep and concern.
Concern for you, you noticed.
You smiled at him and turned so that your back was to his chest and moved his hands so that they were essentially hugging your body.
“This is better” you mused, as the warmth from his body and the contrasting cold of Snezhnaya lulled you to unconsciousness but not fully sleeping.
Scaramouche, probably thinking you slept, nuzzled your neck. It felt good. This was something he would never do if you were awake.
Should you move and tell him you were awake?
Mentally shaking your head, you decided against it. It wasn't every day he was in a mood like this. Smiling to yourself you succumbed to the gentle press of his lips against your neck.
Suddenly, you felt him put some distance between the two of you and felt your heart drop. But just as quickly as it dropped you felt it soar. He was writing something on your back. Again and again. The same letters but it was taking all your effort not to move due to the slight tickle.
The next time he did it you would definitely catch it.
O-V-E-U
What? What does that mean? You probably missed a few letters, you thought to yourself. He wouldn't just randomly sketch letters onto your back with his fingers
I-L-O-V-E-U
oh.
You felt your heart race up at the implication. You just hoped he didn't notice it. It would all stop if he had noticed it.
You wanted him to do it a little longer. You wanted to feel the soft press of his fingers delicately gliding across your back.
A while later he stopped and turned his back to sleep. Your heart was still beating soundly even though it felt like you had died and gone to heaven.
You moved closer to him and felt his breath hitch, knowing him he was probably having a meltdown inside.
“I love you too Kuni”
࣪ . ִֶָ๋ KINICH: ❝ HEAVEN CAN WAIT. ❞
pairing: kinich x afab!reader (uses she/her) synopsis: during the invasion of the abyss, the bond between you and kinich is put to the test when you're both lost in the chaos searching for eachother, as he fulfills his sacred duty as one of the heroes of Natlan. warnings: spoilers of the 5.1 archon quests! lots of bodily injury + descriptions of gore, the war ingame is described in a darker way here, cursing, many mentions of death. wordcount: 5.4k cho’s notes: PLS SRSLY LISTEN TO THE INJURY WARNING!! i might be a little dramatic but theres an injury here that made me geek when i was writing it idk. this is basically 5.4k words of me pretending to understand the mechanics of the ode of resurrection 😭 i was inspired to write this after playing the 5.1 aq! hope u guys enjoy this, happy reads <3
taglist: @sillywinnertidalwave
Today marked the exact moment the people of Natlan realized that the abyss weren’t just these noisy hilichurls you see camping in the meadows or the occasional mages you’d encounter in the caves; The Abyss was a ruthless cult of monsters with their uniform goal of bringing humanity to its demise.
‘It was never supposed to get this bad.’ was the only thought racing through Kinich's mind as he swung from cliffs to trees as fast as he could, the muscles in his arms feeling like they could rip apart if he swung one more time, his head slightly burning with exhaustion and heart racing with overwhelming pressure.
People were getting massacred on the ground underneath him, as numerous warriors and guards pushed themselves beyond their limit to fend off the neverending wave of rifthounds and hilichurls coming from the illuminating pylons—and he couldn’t do anything about it. Not when everyone and everything needed his aid, all at once.
But Kinich had someone to come home to, and it was you.
The last moment of peace the both of you had together was just earlier today; Sipping coffee and eating fruit together, discussing light subjects to try and distract each other from the rising attacks of the abyss, totally oblivious to the fact that Natlan would be dragged into war by them hours later.
He felt like it was just a minute ago when you sat in front of him, and glowed under the sunlight, slicing apples intricately as your lips spilled words. ‘How could this happen?’ he thought.
The image of you smiling, your face full of faith pulsed in his mind, making his stomach twist when his eyes landed on the village of the Scions of the Canopy; it was on the brink of ruin.
Caravans and carts were being ripped open with the goods spilling onto the ground only to be squashed, children getting dragged by desperate parents, greedy businessmen clawing at their money hoping it would save them, and the scattered limp bodies of innocent natlanese. The sky loomed over everyone’s heads in an eerie color, only amplifying the hopelessness he rarely felt in his chest. The scent of blood and burning ash filled his nostrils the second he violently landed onto the oversized canopy, mildly hurting his ankles in the process.
“Y/n? Y/n!” He called out among the frenzy, his eyes darting to every face he could spot. He got on his heel and started running— desperate that you wouldn’t appear as one of the bodies that were left to rot on the ground.
He raced to your house, and tried to push the door open with no luck. He had no time to care for it, and just slashed through it with his bulky claymore and bursted into the room, his eyebrows knitted together, pupils dilated, cold sweat on his nape. His eyes don’t spot you in your usual leisure spot of your common room, making his heart drop. He checked all other rooms, and finally opened your bedroom:
You weren’t there.
You weren’t anywhere.
His heart hurt with every beat, and he desperately clawed at his chest trying to get back his calm composure he was always known for. But what for?
“Just give it up, that peasant probably turned into abyss food long before you even got here. Stop wasting your time, my time!” Ajaw suddenly hissed out, his words filling kinich’s mind with poison.
Imaginations of your body growing limp and cold, face turning blue, and blood oozing out from some part of your body as rifthounds dug through your flesh flashed through his head. And he tried to stop it. But with the spinning of his head and the lifelessness of your house that was once so full with your laughter, it just kept getting worse.
He stood with a lowered head, his hand gripping his claymore so tight his knuckles turned white. He fought back tears as his mind danced like a kaleidoscope. To him, there would be no use in saving Natlan, if you weren’t in the picture.
He was supposed to not let his will in defeating the abyss sway at all, you wouldn’t want that. No one would want that. He doesn’t either. But now faced with the odds that you might not be able to experience a Natlan that is finally free from centuries of prejudice, after you’ve been by his side telling him to have faith that the day will come, and the dreams you want to accomplish when everything is finally okay— It seemed unfair. SO unfair.
He whispers to himself, or rather to anything who was willing to listen, with a shaky voice: “If only one wish of mine can be granted for my whole lifetime, please.. Keep her safe. That’s all I ask.”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
The clashing of weapons against the shelled skin of the abyss monsters zipped through the air, as you swiftly dodged the claws of a relentless rifthound; you’ve been doing this for hours now.
You were helping your tribe, the Scions of the Canopy, strengthen its defenses before the outbreak until you were called by a messenger to help strengthen defenses of an adventurer’s base southeast of the village as it was being easily overwhelmed by the enemies. As the head of preparing defenses from the village, you happily obliged.
But now you were almost hours into battle, with your body aching in all different spots, as you tried your best to continue evading the insistent attacks of numerous monsters. You couldn’t find the energy to swing your sword with maximum strength anymore, so all you could muster up was to dodge them.
“Fuck! Will you ever quit!?” you yell, before pushing yourself beyond your limits again, attacking with frustration. You slashed through the tough skin of the rifthound with your dendro-infused blade, making it dissipate into purple smoke with a screeching growl before fading into the air.
You had a second for a breather and took a deep breath, which you regretted immediately. “ugh!” you cried, falling to your knees, grabbing your side. You recall the moment you heard something snap when a hilichurl swung its wooden baton at your side when you were busy confronting a different monster. You broke your rib, and it was now piercing your lung.
You stared into the dirt, forehead collecting sweat. You took your hand off of your side, seeing blood paint your palm a deep scarlet. You touched your forehead, and brought your hand back to your eyes— You were bleeding. everywhere.
Your eyes sting with tears, the reality of the situation slowly setting into your head— The chances of you leaving this battlefield alive was slim. Your teeth press against your bottom lip tightly, the pain being incomparable to the injuries you’ve sustained.
‘I’m sorry kinich.’ echoed in your mind. Kinich had been training you recently, for you to be ready in case of an invasion and he wasn’t there to protect you. But here you are, head-first onto the ground, realizing you’ll probably die in the next few minutes.
‘I’m sorry kinich.. I’m not built for this.’ you whimpered, tears slowly trickling down your face. You felt so heavy with hopelessness, you felt like you could start sinking into the solid dirt beneath your body.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You were only supposed to continue helping people fend off the abyss for a few more days, until the Pyro Archon solved the crisis. And after she did, you would’ve explored places outside of Natlan with Kinich. Sumeru was the first region you both agreed to visit; It was always a dream that you shared together to travel all of Teyvat one day. Hell, you even had a hunch he’d propose to you somewhere down the line of your voyage.
So why are you kneeling on the floor, bleeding from every possible corner of your body, accepting your demise as your comrades slowly thin in number?
‘How long do I have to keep this up? I feel like if I swing my sword one more time, my arms will come flying off. I can’t do it anymore. This is something only strong people can do. Strong people like kinich. I can’t. I just can’t. I ca-’
Woosh!, Your ears picked up the sound and you jumped to your feet, barely escaping the blade of an enormous mitachurl that almost claimed your head.
You tumbled lightly onto the ground, before you hold your sword up again with both your hands, your limbs trembling hopelessly in the gaze of the towering monster over you with demonic horns. You almost drop your blade and just let it kill you right then and there.
But kinich appeared in your thoughts.
The mitachurl was standing the way the dummy kinich built for you was. Kinich’s voice instructing you rippled in your thoughts: “swing your sword down to the left, diagonal to the body. Then, slice up to the right, also diagonally. For the final blow, strike straight down the crown of its head, taking force from your shoulders. ”
You listen to kinich on repeat a few times, drawing imaginary lines on the body of the scowling mitachurl that stomped closer to you. You gulped the lump in your throat, before you did exactly what kinich taught you.
You twist your body with your edge in the air, taking a (painful) deep breath before swinging your blade to the left in a declining path. The mitachurl stumbles back at your sudden strike making an mmgh! sound, breaking down some of its armor. You quickly slice back up in the opposite direction before it could react any further. Your shoulder burned with every twist, but you had to keep going.
As it stumbled one more time, You bring your weapon above your head, and ignite it with dendro, causing a deep green aura to emit from your person. You meet eyes with the monster; It looked horrified. You stood there ready to take its life, appearing like a monster yourself with the blood that dripped down your head, your eyes seething with revenge.
You spare no more time before completely slicing straight down its head with maximum precision. A loud growl slowly faded with the noise, just as its body did, turning into a dark smoke.
“If my life is going to end with this battle, then please grant my final wish—” You whispered, looking at your blood-stained hands, hoping the heavenly principles could hear your wish among the deafening sound of war:
“—Please.. Keep kinich safe for me.”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
The people seeking refuge in a temporary hideout turn their heads at the noise of their beloved heroes walking into the space. ‘Baraka’ Xilonen, ‘Umoja’ Mualani, ‘Uwezo’ Iansan, ‘Bidii’ Ororon, and ‘Vuka’ Chasca. There was only one more hero missing.. ‘Malipo’ Kinich.
Kinich had just rounded up civilians he saved from the village, and brought them there for safety. His gaze met with his friends, before he carefully placed a baby he was protecting into the arms of its mother— The baby had your eyes, which gravitated him into holding it just a little longer. He walked over to them with heavy steps, still trying to keep his composure despite the pain weaving his insides; just like them.
“It’s the final phase of mavuika’s plan. We have to get back to the stadium, and help her with the Ode of Resurrection.” Xilonen says. “Can you do it?”
It’s not like he had any other choice so he just nodded, not being able to muster up the strength to talk.
“Kinich.. Did something happen?” Mualani asked, taking notice of his silence as she placed her hand on his shoulder in support. It was clear she was just as broken down as he was, covered in bruises and scratches. But she continued to stay strong and pulled an empathetic look for him, trying to get his lowered eyes to meet hers.
“I.. couldn’t find y/n.” Kinich barely mumbled, the dread he felt earlier coming back to him, feeling like it only got worse verbalizing it. His eyes stuck to the ground, refusing to peel away.
The five heroes suddenly feel the air grow thick, a gasp leaving Iansan and Mualani's lips. This reaction only made the feeling worse, his fingertips digging into his palm. ‘Why does it have to turn out like this? I don’t fucking get it. It’s unfair. Not fair. Not fair to me, to her.’
The five struggled to find words to say, but ajaw quickly filled the space, spitting out: “Fear not lowly humans! For when Kinich finally slips in this final fight and accidentally ends up kicking the bucket, I, the almighty dragonlord, k’uhul ajaw! Will reign over this world once more! And the abyss will no longer be the biggest threat Natlan has faced!” The 8-bit monster laughed proudly with its jagged voice.
Kinich suddenly snapped at the puny dragon: “Zip it ajaw. Let’s go.” before stepping out of the hideout. The heroes gave each other glances, before silently following after him. They weren’t scared of kinich releasing ajaw, they knew kinich would never do that to them. But it was him they were worried about.
Kinich never handled loss well. It often resulted in.. Accidents. Towards himself.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
You continued to fight your way to survival, the dendro vision hanging by your hip flashing every few seconds. You shifted your focus to destroy nearby pylons. Your hands had bruised, and slowly became callused and firm. The amount of blood loss you’ve endured has slowly started affecting you too, as your actions started getting sloppier, following your sight getting hazy from time to time.
‘Ching!’ You sliced through the last mitachurl around— atleast, last one before another one spawns—and fell to your battered knees. You sat there, gasping, your body begging for air.
“Y/n!” a fellow comrade called out, rushing to your side. You can hear him mumbling something to you, but it’s incoherent. You looked at your dirty, bloodied hands, ‘what an ugly sight.’
“Just.. keep pushing on y/n.” his words sound muffled to you and almost accompanied with sand; he’s losing hope too.
Without warning, a bright beam of light suddenly shot up into the air, emerging from somewhere in the distance.
‘Huh?’ You look up.
The ray of light exploded into a star, making you wince at the glare. The explosion was so grand, you felt the earth tremble all around you, and even felt a slight radiance of heat reach your skin, even when it was suspended so close to the stars.
The warriors and monsters’ brawl comes to a pause, all beings turning their heads to the magic unfolding above their heads.
You look back up once more. It’s the Pyro Archon.
“In the name of the Pyro Archon, Haborym,” the transcendent voice sends chills down your spine.
“I declare the Night Warden Wars underway—”
“—The Ode of Resurrection will guard all life, until the war is over!”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Kinich might’ve lost his mind.
With the Ode of Resurrection, there was nothing in his way to contain the blood rushing through his veins anymore, the flame pumping his drive. There was no limit to the blood he could pour, no limit to the bones he could snap, no limit to the wounds he could take; There was no more life that kept him from death, and no death to threaten him to life.
He shot himself through the trees and cliffs and plunged into the ground, slashing right into an abyssal pylon, immediately shattering it into pieces. The abyss that caught sight of his unhinged eyes, became the last thing they saw. He swung his blade relentlessly, calculated with maximum precision embedded into every strike. Every blow he landed would end a life point-blank, not wasting a single movement. No monster could keep up with the speed of his assault, their death delivered to them in a blur.
A hilichurl had taken an open opportunity to stab him right through the heart from behind. He felt the flame inside him flicker for a second.
‘Again.’
He ripped the double sided polearm right out of his chest, before skewering the same hilichurl right through its chest with the same weapon. A cryo mage quickly sent icicles to penetrate through his limbs and vital organs. He felt the coldness pierce into his insides, feeling the flame inside him flicker for a second time.
‘Again.’
He swiftly turned around, and spun his claymore right into the mage, beheading it in the process. The mage had evaporated to its death, as his claymore spun right back into his palm, snug as a glove. A hilichurl decided to charge into his tall figure and stab him with a dagger, puncturing his abdomen. His flame flickered for the third time.
‘Again.’
He sliced down on the hilichurl, making it dissipate into the air with a groan. He pulled out the dagger from his body and carelessly threw it onto the ground. Noticing the area was clear, he flung himself back into the air, swinging himself through the thick trees and long branches. They would momentarily graze his skin, cutting and wounding him but it was nothing to him, not anymore.
His void eyes scanned through the rocky terrain underneath his feet, searching for your figure. ‘You have to be here. Somewhere. Anywhere.’ His thoughts of you distracted him from an incoming tree, before flying straight into its tree branch, his body getting skewered in the process. He let out a loud cry of agony— “aaghh!”—, hearing static ringing in his ears. His bewildered eyes landed at exactly where he got impaled before feeling his head go fuzzy, his eyes slowly losing light, and his body going limp. He feels his flame flickering once more.
‘Again.’
Life is shot right back into him as he braced himself again, taking a deep breath, and pulling himself off of the tree branch. His injury immediately punished him, making him wince. He took one last look at the tree branch covered in his gore before swinging himself again. He looked at the gaping hole in his abdominal cavity slowly patch and fill itself again, and for a moment he’s completely mesmerized by the power of the ode of resurrection.
In his mind, he punished himself for not being by your side, for not protecting you. And his mode of punishment would be feeling your misery over and over again. The sensation of burning pain ending up to his death just to wake up again completely alive again all in a split second was intoxicating. He was preserving life, as he toyed with his own.
In his mind, he would rather die a million deaths than find out he’d be alive without you around.
“Listen to me bastard! I’m starting to appreciate this new thing you got going on, you know, like actually following your master, me, Almighty dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw! and using your vision for something exhilarating like ending lives. But I HATE! how i’m getting excited to take your body everytime you go floppy, but you just wake back up! It’s so ANNOYING!! So just keep it up until the fire-head woman turns the ode of what-ever-you-call-it off, and you stay dead. Alright!?”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Mavuika looked longingly onto her people fighting for their nation underneath her feet, as she levitated in the dark sky. It was a surreal simulation to her; It was her that was the catalyst for their dreams and hopes. It left a deep impression of justice, duty and pressure on her.
Mavuika took a deep breath, before feeling a surging power slither all throughout her body.
‘This has to end, now.’
She collected all the dreams her people have relayed to her, the hopes for a future guided with justice and equality, their ancestors and their prayers for Natlan, the lives of her beloved followers who had been sacrificed and martyred, into her fist and made it into her strength.
Her hair ignited into its flamed form, as she shot out all the might and glory of Natlan into a beam of radiance, targeting the abyssal body that was the sole cause of terror over her nation.
The Celestial body forms a temporary glowing shield to stand its ground, until it doesn’t.
It slowly starts shattering like thin glass, making her attack on it only more powerful. Her thrash breaks through until it exploded into a dark fume, her light piercing right through it and into the distant sky. The sky carries the sound of the thundering explosion, shaking nature all around.
The black cloud slowly starts fading, revealing the eradication of the Abyss.
The black sky lifts off of Natlan, revealing the blue once more. You choked out the blood that’s been pouring in your mouth for the longest time as you finally finish off the last creature in sight. The Abyss had been eliminated by the Pyro Archon, and no more would spawn. Dulled and scratched swords, torn bows, and unfortunate martyrs polluted the grassy field around. The noise of battle could still be heard somewhere distant but not around you anymore.
You spat and coughed out blood onto your palm, your other hand clawing and digging into your chest trying to calm your rampaging heartbeat. You heard your remaining comrades cry and yell out of grief and solace. The words they yelled were incoherent, only being able to hear ringing.
But you could almost make out what they're saying, somewhere along the lines of: ‘It’s over.’
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Kinich’s eyelids slowly peel open, feeling the heat of the sun greet his eyes immediately making him wince. He sits up and tries to gain back his senses, letting out a sore groan.
Ajaw perches up at the sound, and starts roaring in his ear: “You were supposed to be dead! I was so thrilled to finally take over your cold body, finally thinking of the horrors I'd run to this land, just to find our contract not working! Just bite the dust already you useless asparagus! Curse the archons!”
“Wh-what happened?” Kinich croaked, his throat stinging him in the process. Completely ignoring ajaw’s tantrum, he looks at the nature around him; There were dismantled weapons, a few dead bodies scattered meters apart, and an awful lot of silence.
“The fire-head woman destroyed the abyss in the sky, and the magical thing happening to your body that stopped you from dying stopped, and you just crashed into the mountain side and passed out onto the ground. Your head should’ve caved in! Fucking imbecile!”
Kinich stares at the state of his body; It was a disaster. His jacket was torn with all sorts of holes, his arms full of scars and dried blood and smeared dirt, his gloved hands having numerous rips and tears. All of his digits were present, but a huge scar trailed over the joints of his thumb. ‘So I lost a finger huh?’ he guessed to himself. He looks at his headband dangling around his neck, and feels his face with his hand. He felt a few scars and winces at a cut he had, realizing he had a gaping wound that was actively bleeding out.
Body intact, clothes and weapon secured, with his heart beating in his chest cavity.
But something was still missing. Something was out of place.
He feels his heart drop to the ground, mumbling: “Y/n.”
He hurriedly turns around and tries to run on his feet, a sharp pain kicking into his legs making him fall back onto the soil. He curls into a ball, suddenly feeling all his muscles tormenting his body at once. He groans in pain, feeling parts of his body ache and burn under his skin.
“Yes! Perish!” Ajaw shrieks, making kinich swat at him. He takes a cramped breath— almost like the capacity of his lungs had shrunk— before digging his hands into the sharp blades of grass, dragging his body through the earth.
Each pull of his body made him wish he wasn’t human, pain electrocuting each living cell in his body. Grunts slipped through his teeth, as he tried not to notice the torture he had been enduring for what has felt like forever. He despised the pain he could feel as he crawled not because it hurt him, but because it was proof he was alive and could use his senses. That would remind him that you might not be, only making the weight of his chest heavier.
Red from his wound dripped down his head and slipped onto his lip, making him spit it out bitterly.
The silvery of blood was inferior to the bitterness in his mouth if he felt your body without its heart beating against his own. Ajaw slowly follows him in the air a meter away, and is almost horrified. Ajaw that day, saw humanity in its most desperate state.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
“Let me go!” You yelled, trying to break free from the arms of the other scions of the canopy. They had tried convincing you to go to the village and get your injuries treated, but they mentioned kinich was missing. You heard glass shattering in your ears, almost reality to your eyes breaking just the same. You escaped their captive and tried to find kinich, but they had caught up to you easily.
“You don’t understand! You might die out of blood loss before you even find him!” Said one of the nurses, gripping your wrist tightly. “I have to try!” You snapped, shoving and kicking at the men trying to get a holding of your legs.
“And what if kinich is dead y/n!?” A man retorted, making you freeze in your spot. Words got stuck in your throat, as your eyes blurred for a second. “Kinich would never.. be..” you feel your tongue stiffen, your knees slowly sinking back onto the grass. The men among the helpers quietly argue behind you, scolding each other with ‘don’t say that!’ as your thoughts slowly dim your spirit.
‘Kinich? Dead?’ the thought of kinich dying seemed so far and impossible to you. It was always kinich who seemed to prevent harm from going your way, and knew how to deal with injuries or how to get out of risky situations. But not even the strongest warriors of Natan's ancient tales survived against the toughest attacks of the abyss. You feel like vomiting, the imagination of kinich mangled body suddenly tormenting your thoughts. ‘I still have to try’, you interrupted yourself, reminiscing the oath you took between the both of you to never abandon his side, dead or alive.
You quickly try to pounce off of them, but they're quicker into getting ahold of you again. You try your hardest to tear through their grasp, feeling your skin ache as they tighten their hand around you.
“Please! Just let me try!” you cry out, almost freeing yourself. They object in volumes, a series of ‘No!’s and ‘You need to rest!’ leaving their mouths. You almost feel helpless, but the group of five freeze all together, out of nowhere.
Their eyes are wide, dilated. Their mouths agape, skin draining of color.
You turn your eyes the same direction as theirs, and a sudden chill waves all throughout your body.
It’s kinich.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Kinich locks eyes with you, his breath hitching. Almost terrified you’ll disappear in front of his eyes, he doesn’t waste another second and sprints towards you on his feet, ignoring the sharp pain afflicted to his ligaments. The tribespeople quickly free you from their clutches, stepping back as your aching bodies collided into an embrace.
Everyone else disappears from his world as he takes you into his dirtied arms. His body melt into yours, leaving no space for the opportunity of separation between both of you ever again. He feels you trembling underneath his touch making him hold you tighter. “I’m home.” He whispers into your ear, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders, like bulky armor sliding off of his battered frame— He had died a hundred times to tell you those words.
He can hear you; you're crying into his shoulder, salty tears reviving the scent of the dried blood on his clothes. All he can do is hold you, and take refuge back into your arms after leaving them for what seemed like an eternity. His heart is communicating with yours, beating back and forth at each other. “I was looking for you.” You mumbled against his skin, lips quivering. Your voice is hesitant, as you pull away and look into his tired dark-golden eyes.
“You never lost me in the first place.” He whispers, planting a delicate kiss to your cheek, placing your nimble hand on the left side of his chest to feel evidence of his return. His arms felt lighter, his bones seemed to unbreak, and his wounds were no longer burning. His eyes slowly stickled with tears, burying his face into your hair to let out his shy tears before you had the chance to notice.
His body grew vulnerable under your touch as your tears slowly undid the knot of grief residing in his chest. He almost feels himself shrink back to when he was a lonely child as your mere presence invited the fragile parts of him to be loved again.
His soul yearns for moment like this, where your love is presented raw; It was never about just the beauty. He thawed under your touch even when his clothes and body was drab and scarred. It was never about just the mora, his wallet was no longer weighing in his pocket and he knew that he didn't have to worry about it. It was never about just the distance, it didn't matter if he had to crawl from mondstadt, he still would've tried to come home even if he knew he would die along the way. and it was never about the festivity. he didn't need a festival to celebrate in a way of holding you like he is now. It was always about the bond between both of you and how much joy his heart is beating out just because he can count the beats of yours.
To him, his soul is bound with yours. No matter how far his heroship takes him, he’ll always return to you. For him, that was enough of a reason to come crawling home.
Kinich escaped heaven a hundred times to come home to you. For you, he would’ve gladly left a hundred times more.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
You relish his embrace with tears sticking your lashes together when your mind slowly floats you away to a distant memory, one you feel like you should have forgotten by now.
It was so long ago.. 7 years ago or so?
It happened somewhere.. Here?
With someone.. Kinich.
You were younger teenagers with kinich that time. You had tripped down a short rocky fall while traversing grassy terrain with kinich. A wince squeaks through your gritted teeth, as he poured water onto the gash you scored on your stumbling. “I’ve always told you to stay sharp when we go out on a walk, but you never listen.” He grumbles, wiping off the dirt that trailed down your calf. “..And everytime you trip, it’s always me who has to clean you up, bandage you, and carry you home.” He treated your wound as you sat on a rock, awkwardly playing with your fingertips.
You can tell he was just worried about you, you always managed to injure yourself when he took his eyes off of you. He was already pressured on finding a way home, but you just had to go get your knee busted. “Sorry.” you mumble, heat rising to your skin out of embarrassment. “If you really were sorry, you would actually look before you land your feet.” he said bitterly, undoing his bandana, and wrapping it around your knee tightly. As he tightened the knot, he said: “You know I won't always be around to protect you right?”
“Yeah..” you shuffle your feet around. “But I-i swear I looked before I stepped okay! But the dip was.. was hiding under all the grass.” You attempt to defend yourself, looking at him with guilt written all over your face.
“Can you just promise me you’ll make heaven wait when I'm not around?” He sighs, before helping you get back on your feet, his arm snaking around your waist, as he scooped your shoulder over his shoulder. “Only if you promise too!” you scoff. He rolls his eyes, “As if I'll ever die before you. Seriously, one day I might just be running a commission and bump into you just bleeding to death from your knee.” you grimace under the thought. “Don’t say such horrible things!”
“Then promise me.” “..I promise.”
summary. sharing a table with a stranger at a crowded café, only to realize they’re far more interesting than you expected.
characters. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, venti, kazuha x gn!reader (separate)
tags. modern au, fluff, crack
warnings. kind of ooc xiao and kazuha, alcohol in venti's
Internally panicking, but he welcomes you to the table with a small nod. He’s the reserved type—the kind to look anywhere but in your general direction just to avoid eye contact. Archons, how many times has he glanced out the window just to stare at that decorative plant? He even counted the leaves.
Social interaction isn’t his strong suit. And it certainly doesn’t help that you’re attractive.
If he had his way, he’d sit in silence, letting the passing seconds fill the space between you. But his own discomfort betrays him. Hands fidgeting under the table, fingers tracing the rim of his cup, gaze flickering to anything but you.
He feigns indifference, arms crossed, posture rigid.
But then—you speak. Because, for some reason, you find him interesting.
You introduce yourself first, then ask for his name.
His heart stumbles in his chest. He’s unsure if it’s from nerves or the sheer absurdity of the situation. Someone willingly trying to talk to him, despite his obvious attempts to fade into the background.
Though his palms are slightly damp from tension, he keeps his voice steady, his expression unreadable. Flat tone. Unwavering gaze. A carefully maintained air of disinterest.
You frown. A subtle shift, but he notices.
That’s a cue, isn’t it? A signal that you’ll leave him alone now. That’s what he wanted… right?
Then why does something in his chest sink when you simply nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, offering nothing more?
He exhales quietly. Curses himself. He just lost the chance to get to know you.
But this is the first time someone’s been able to catch his attention. So he thinks of a way to redeem himself.
"Oh. Okay." You say in response to his answer, forcing yourself to sound indifferent. But truthfully, you’re embarrassed.
You spent a whole ten minutes bouncing your leg, debating whether or not you should make the first move, only to be met with disappointment after finally mustering up the courage.
You bite your bottom lip and tap your fingers on the table, falling silent. Now, all you can do is wait for the servers to call your order so you can leave. You seriously don’t want to embarrass yourself further in front of this stranger.
“I, uh...”
A voice cuts through your thoughts.
You don’t assume right away that he’s talking to you, so you keep your gaze averted, pretending not to notice.
Then, a cough. Loud enough that you instinctively glance up in concern.
Your eyes widen slightly when you find him already looking at you.
“Yes?” You ask, taken aback that he was referring to you. There’s a flicker of curiosity in your expression, maybe even a bit of hope.
He hesitates. “…I'm sorry.” His voice is quieter this time, almost unsure. “I didn’t mean to come across as cold earlier.”
The shift in his tone is subtle, but you catch it. Gone is the detached, indifferent edge from before.
You smile, relieved. "No, no, don't worry about it! I get like that sometimes too."
He exhales lightly. Almost as if… reassured. After a beat, he offers a small, hesitant smile in return. It’s brief, but it’s there.
It suits him, you think.
It’s cute that he chose to apologize instead of just letting it be. Most people would’ve moved on, unwilling to make things more awkward. But he didn't.
And then—
"I'm not used to people." He pauses. “…Especially ones like you.”
A beat of silence.
You blink. Wait. What?
His own words seem to register a second too late.
You watch as his shoulders tense slightly, his fingers curling into a loose fist on his lap. The tips of his ears are… pink?
Oh.
Oh.
Was that supposed to be a compliment? Was he flirting with you? No way. He doesn’t seem like the flirty type. He’s definitely more socially awkward than you. Maybe he didn’t mean it like that.
But before you can overthink it—
“…If it’s okay with you, may I have your number?”
Glares at you menacingly. Like a cat trying to hiss someone away.
Him? Sharing a table? With some random nobody? Absolutely not. This table is his.
Without breaking eye contact, he places his bag on the chair in front of him. A silent warning. Don’t even think about it.
"It's occupied," he deadpans before returning to whatever he was doing.
You, unimpressed, grab his bag and dump it on the table. Then you plop down into the chair, arms crossed, staring him down as if to say: "Try and get me out of this seat, you brat."
His mouth parted slightly, just for a second, before snapping shut. Did you just—? The audacity.
A scoff escapes him as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his glare sharper than ever. His fingers drum against his bicep as he mutters under his breath—something that sounds suspiciously like, "At least you're not completely spineless." Not that he’d ever say it directly.
But since the café is packed and dragging you out by the collar would be frowned upon, he begrudgingly allows it.
For the most part, he ignores you. Or at least, he tries to. You pretend not to notice the irritated glances he throws your way every time you smile at your phone or stifle a laugh.
Then a server approaches.
She sets your drink down and takes a brief look at the two of you. No food orders yet. Her eyes brighten as she leans in slightly, all smiles.
"We actually have a 25% couple's discount for two strawberry shortcakes!"
Silence.
His stare darkens.
He looks at her like she just personally insulted his entire bloodline. If he had one in this universe, anyway. His lips part, undoubtedly to say something cruel enough to make her rethink her entire career.
But before he can, you slap a hand over his mouth.
"That sounds great! We’ll take it!" you chirp, grinning at the waitress as if your life doesn’t currently depend on keeping Scaramouche from verbally eviscerating an innocent employee.
The server’s eyes sparkle with delight as she scribbles down the order. She even hums.
He looks personally offended.
You heave a sigh as the server finally walks away. Just as you’re about to relax, you feel a vibration against your palm. The glaring stranger is trying to speak, his voice muffled against your hand.
Then, before you can react—
His tongue moves.
He licks your palm.
Slow. Wet. Deliberate.
"Gross!" You yank your hand away, scrubbing it furiously against his sleeve.
He swats you off instantly, recoiling like you just infected him with the plague. "Get your germs off of me!" he snaps.
"You're the one who just licked my hand!" you retort, scandalized.
His scowl deepens. His expression alone speaks volumes.
"The hell was that for? First, you hog my table—"
"I wasn’t hogging it, we needed to share!"
"—interrupting my peace with your presence—"
"I was minding my own business!"
"—and then you have the absolute audacity to make us out as some kind of couple?!"
"Shut up, they might hear you! We’ll lose the discount!" you hiss, glancing around in case the staff overheard. The people in the vicinity gave looks of concern at your direction.
He scoffs. "You have some nerve."
You roll your eyes. So dramatic. Acting like you just ruined his life.
"I had to grab the opportunity. It’s strawberry shortcake."
He clicks his tongue. "That’s your excuse?"
"It’s strawberry shortcake," you repeat as if that alone explains everything.
He huffs, crossing his arms. "Fine. Go eat your stupid cake."
"You don’t want some?"
"I hate cakes."
You blink. Who the hell hates cake?
"Why?"
His eyes narrow. "Why? Because I hate them. I hate sweets in general. Life isn’t sweet. Life is full of bitterness and sorrow. I don’t get how people manage to laugh in this world. It’s annoying."
…Wow. That escalated.
How did a conversation about shortcakes turn into a monologue about the inherent misery of existence?
"What the hell? Who hurt you?" you mutter.
"My mother."
You suck in a sharp breath.
The words are so blunt, so casually spoken, that it takes you a second to process. Your lips twitch. No. You shouldn’t laugh.
But the longer you stare at his deadpan face, the harder it is to hold back. A chuckle slips out. Then another.
Hey, this guy is kind of funny. He's growing on you.
He gives you a baffled look like you’re the crazy one for finding humor in his trauma dump.
His brows furrow, and for a brief second, his gaze lingers—not in irritation, but in something else. Something almost mesmerized. He mutters something too quiet to catch before looking away, resting his head on his palm.
You inhale deeply, composing yourself. "Fine. I'll eat both cakes, then. I'm the one paying anyway."
He doesn’t respond, just glares at nothing in particular.
Minutes later, the same cheerful server returns with a tray of two servings of strawberry shortcake. Just as you reach for your wallet—
A hand beats you to it.
The stranger slaps down his own cash before you can even open your bag.
The server’s grin widens. "Ah, paying for the date? How chivalrous!" she chimes, her voice far too amused, before skipping away.
You freeze. Wait.
Did he just let her think that?
Your gaze snaps to him, utterly bewildered. He doesn’t even deny it—just grabs one of the plates and starts stabbing the cake with his fork.
"I thought you said you don’t like sweets."
"That’s right," he mutters before taking a grumpy bite.
You narrow your eyes. "Then why—"
He chews, swallows, and then shrugs, avoiding your gaze.
"Would be a real waste of my money if I didn’t enjoy it with you."
Has been watching you since you entered the café. Not in a creepy way, just subtle, observant, like he’s solving a case. And wow you are stunning. The way your eyes scan the room, looking for an open seat, tells him you’re about to approach him.
He makes his move first.
"Over here!" he waves, voice warm and inviting, like he's an old friend waiting for you. You hesitate, confused. Do you know this guy? But with no other seats available, you accept with a small, grateful smile.
Big mistake. Or maybe the best decision you’ve made today.
Because once you sit, he talks. And flirts. And teases. And somehow, he already knows things about you.
Will ask you all sorts of questions: What's your name? Your age? Your birthday? Your favorite color? Any pets? Exes?
Even taking guesses as to what your answers might be. and he got them all right, if not, then close. But every now and then, he throws in something completely unexpected:
"What's your ideal type? Is it me?"
"Aside from being pretty, what do you do for a living?"
"Have you ever committed a crime before? Because now you have." He says while clutching his chest.
You nearly choke on your drink. Heizou just grins, clearly enjoying himself.
"Alright, your turn. You can interrogate me now," he offers, eyes gleaming with amusement.
And so you do. Because he’s interesting. Charming. Smart. Too smart. And when he leans in slightly, studying your features like he’s committing them to memory, you feel yourself getting drawn in, too.
Heizou hums in thought. "You’ve got the kind of face that belongs in a painting," he muses. "I’d describe it more, but I’d rather see how flustered you get first."
You roll your eyes, trying (and failing) to suppress a smile.
He'd be the type to reach out and take small bites of your food while chatting. He does it so shamelessly that you're impressed, so you just let him.
This boy is so confident with himself, flirting so casually like it's second nature.
He wouldn't go as far as to touch you, of course. He knows his limits and will keep his hands to himself. But he acts so relaxed and friendly with you that you think maybe he's just playing you.
You’re not dumb. You know he’s interested in you.
It’s not like he’s being subtle about it, either. The lingering glances, the teasing smirks, the way his eyes light up whenever you react to his words. It’s obvious.
And sure, you feel the same way. But still.
Is this how he always approaches strangers? Does he flirt for fun, or does he actually mean to follow through? How many people have fallen for his tricks before?
A thoughtful hum breaks your train of thought. Heizou taps his chin lightly, then suddenly snaps his fingers. A habit you’ve noticed ever since you sat down.
"Your expression tells me you’re doubting my motives. Correct?"
You blink in surprise. Then chuckle softly, shaking your head. Damn, he’s good.
"That’s right. A point for you, detective."
He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Funny you say that. Being a detective is my full-time job."
Your lips part slightly in surprise. He never mentioned that before. But now it all makes sense. The way he reads you like an open book, the way he asks questions so effortlessly, the way he makes it feel like you’re being studied and he’s enjoying every second of it.
"That’s quite… attractive." You admit, cheeks warming slightly.
Heizou leans back in his chair, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. "You think so?" His grin widens, but there’s a new glint in his gaze now.
"Then allow me to clear up any lingering doubts, sweetheart." He tilts his head slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip.
"I do plan on pursuing you."
Oh.
Your heart stumbles. You were not prepared for him to be that straightforward.
Heizou watches your reaction, clearly amused. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he shakes his head. "Only a true detective can crack the case of this heart theft, you know."
A teasing pause. Then, the final blow.
"And my prime suspect… is you."
When you approach him, the faint yet unmistakable scent of alcohol lingers in the air. He’s drunk. In the middle of the day. At a café.
Wait. Do they even serve alcohol here?
His head rests lazily on his folded arms, eyelids heavy, lips slightly parted. If it weren’t for the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders, you’d think he was fast asleep. Beside him, a humble coffee cup sits suspiciously untouched. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you lean in for a peek.
Yep. It’s alcohol.
How the hell did he sneak that in? More importantly, how has no one caught him yet? You glance around, half-expecting an employee to scold him, but they just pass him by like he’s invisible. Maybe he’s a regular here.
Deciding not to wake him, you quietly settle into the seat across from him, giving him space.
Then, without warning, he jolts awake.
"Oh! Hello, stranger!"
He’s suddenly wide awake. No sluggish blinking, no groggy confusion, just pure, unbothered energy. You flinch at the unexpected enthusiasm.
He doesn’t ask why you’re here. He doesn’t even bother to ask your name. Instead, he jumps straight into conversation as if you’re an old friend who’s been here all along.
And somehow, you go along with it.
With an animated grin, he launches into the most ridiculous stories you’ve ever heard.
"Earlier, I saw this red-haired guy absolutely demolish some blue-haired guy in a fight. It was spectacular! Ehe~!"
You blink. Excuse me?
That’s just one of the things he shares. He never runs out of things to say. Wild, chaotic, oddly fascinating things. Like?? Does he see stuff like that on a daily basis?
And despite nearly passing out five minutes ago, he speaks so effortlessly that you start questioning if he was even drunk to begin with.
Like Heizou, he will also steal some of the pastries you ordered, albeit in a more subtle manner. He thinks you don't notice this lol.
"You've got fine taste in sweets, stranger!" he hums, twirling a fork between his fingers. "Tell me, what's your opinion on wine?"
You blink at the sudden shift in topic but answer with an amused smile. "I don’t really know much about it. I just drink whatever I feel like."
Venti gasps dramatically, "Hah, I thought so! I cou—"
His sentence is abruptly cut off by a hiccup. You barely suppress a laugh as you slide a glass of water toward him.
"Whoops! My bad!" He lets out a bubbly giggle, taking the water with a flourish. After downing a few sips, he clears his throat with an exaggerated ahem.
"As I was saying—" He pauses for effect. "If you're interested in wine, I’d be delighted to educate you! I’d say I’m an expert.”
You tilt your head playfully. "I can tell."
His eyes twinkle with mischief. "But if you're not..."
He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper.
"I'm still very interested in having a drink with you sometime. You’re quite the gorgeous stranger, you know."
Before you can fully process the compliment, he winks. Smooth, confident, entirely shameless.
"So," he muses, resting his chin in his palm.
“What do you say about keeping in touch?"
Kazuha is probably the most normal one out of the bunch. No glares, no drunken ramblings, no interrogation-like questioning. Just a warm, endearing smile as he gestures toward the empty seat across from him.
He even stands up, gently pulling your chair back for you. A small but thoughtful gesture. One that makes your heart skip just a little.
"Please, have a seat." His voice is soft, and smooth, like a passing breeze on a summer afternoon.
As you settle in, he strikes up a light conversation, asking about your day with genuine curiosity. He listens intently, nodding along, occasionally offering small comments that make you feel at ease.
And unlike a certain maroon-haired flirt or a wine-loving bard, instead of stealing your food, he offers you his. With a slight nudge, he pushes his plate toward you.
"Would you like to try some?" His expression is hopeful.
You shake your head, feeling too shy to accept. "Oh, no, it’s yours. I couldn’t."
He pouts. Actually pouts.
"Come on, just a bite. Humor me." He even throws in the puppy eyes.
And damn it, how could you refuse that face?
Reluctantly, you take a tiny piece with your fork, just enough to taste.
He notices. And he’s not having it.
Without a word, he cuts a larger piece, lifting it toward your lips with his own fork.
"Say aah," he coaxes, his smile both playful and teasing.
Your face burns hotter than the café’s espresso machine, but you comply, letting him feed you.
His expression softens, eyes twinkling with quiet satisfaction.
But just when you think it couldn't get worse—
He leans forward slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips.
Before you can react, he reaches out, thumb brushing lightly against the corner of your mouth.
Then, with a casual grace that should not be allowed, he brings his thumb to his lips, licking off the stray bit of cream.
And smiles.
Innocently.
As if he didn’t just send your soul straight into the abyss.
You stare at him, utterly flustered, while he simply sips his tea, acting as though he didn’t just casually destroy you in broad daylight.
"You're acting awfully sweet to a stranger," you point out, tilting your head at him.
Kazuha hums thoughtfully, swirling his tea. Then, he gives you a small, shy smile.
"Am I? Well... how could I not, if the stranger is you?"
Smooth. Too smooth.
He gives you a shy smile. "We could fix the 'stranger' part. How about friends?"
You giggle softly. "Are you sure just friends?"
He gives you a playful look. "Well, we could be more in the future."
His laugh is light, airy. Like the whisper of wind through maple leaves. But then, something seems to dawn on him, and his expression shifts.
"But—" he pauses, suddenly looking sheepish. "If you're already seeing someone, being friends is enough."
Oh, that's adorable.
You giggle behind your hand, heartwarming at his sincerity. After all that flirting, he's still worried about stepping over a line.
"Don't worry," you reassure him, "I've never dated anyone."
His eyes widen slightly, genuine disbelief flickering across his face.
"Is that so?" He tilts his head. "That's surprising. I thought someone like you would be off the market by now."
You shrug, smirking at him. He leans in just a little, voice dropping to a gentle murmur, as if sharing a secret.
His gaze locks onto yours, warm, admiring.
“I get to find and keep the treasure, then? What an honor.”
note. ah yes the work i was most proud of back then lol anw i’m planning to make a part 2 for this idk when tho maybe when i feel like it. i improved a few bits from the original and this is not proofread! i literally just skimmed through the text and changed a few stuff hope u enjoyed say hi if u remembered this
© lmvari do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works on any platform.
a/n - sorry i was gone guys my depression got really bad :p
he laid on the bed. the buzzing of the fan made him sick to his stomach. wrappers and clothes and cups and pages were thrown all about his room. his own mind held him back.
the days felt like a time paradox. the hours felt like torture. the minutes felt like hell. the seconds felt like death.
he needed something to hold on to. anything. just a tiny bit of hope. he needed something to pull him out of his own head. anything. just a hand to pull him out of that train wreck.
that was, until you came along.
the second his eyes fell upon you, it was almost like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. he could breathe. he could see a hopeful light.
for once in his life, the storm clouds dispersed and a rainbow began to shine through. it was like you were his saving grace.
years passed and tears passed. keeping the storm away was hard for him at times. but he held you close.
he held you tight in his arms, feeling like he had a home. somewhere and someone to lean on. someplace to go back to when things got hard. something he needed for so long.
he muttered softly: “i will never let you go.”
DAZAI, fyodor, poe, AKUTAGAWA, hobie, MIGUEL, simeon, LUCIFER, GIYUU, obanai, zhongli, NAGITO, and any other of your clinically depressed favs <3
Hi! Hi! I’m Aliyah (Uh-Lee-Yuh)I like to draw sometimes
66 posts