The Other Side

𓏲⠀bitter&sweet, florawell ─ wanderer x gn!reader .ᐟ ⋆

rewritten/continuation/long version of this. if you've read this before, you can simply continue after the second(?) divider (I just changed a few words here and there) ! if you haven't, you can read it normally since it contains the original part !!

warnings: hanahaki disease , mentions of blood , hurt/comfort(?) , open ending !

You didn’t know what was so special about him. (That’s a lie, I’m afraid.)

His tongue was sharp, but on second thought, it wasn’t just that. His eyes, his expressions— everything about him, including himself— were like a blade, often resulting in a shattered heart. (It was not his heart, though; he possessed no such thing.) He didn’t like being around others, except for the Dendro Archon, Lesser Lord Kusanali. An odd dynamic; well, who were you to judge?

He also wasn’t around much, despite being one of the most successful students of Vahamuna. That should have been a good thing, considering his many bad traits.

Yet, it wasn’t good for you.

Because you didn’t think he was that bad in the first place. Okay, maybe he did say hurtful things or rolled his eyes at you with such offense that you cried a lot that night, but some moments made up for it.

Moments when his words softened. Moments when his looks softened. Moments when he softened, even just a little bit.

Those were the moments you held so dear. The moments that were so special about him.

That was why your gaze always sought him out. Your voice got a little louder when he was near—begging to be noticed, even for a mere second. When paired with him on a project, you read his part twice, maybe thrice. You wanted to understand the words he chose more than others, wanting to understand him more than anyone else.

You wanted to be special to him, just as he was to you. You wouldn’t mind even if you gave more than you received, as long as your feelings were acknowledged. Sometimes it felt like they were reciprocated even—

Yet, they weren’t.

Your breath hitched, and a lump settled in your throat, where the garden of love had taken root. Looking at the petals, all bloody and torn, you let the statement sink in.

They weren't.

It seemed his love wasn’t meant for you.

The metallic taste of blood clashed with the freshness of flowers. Ah, was that what longing for him tasted like? The smell was melancholic yet fragrant—a lovely and cruel contradiction. Bittersweet.

Were they rotting from the love you had for a certain wanderer?

Maybe they were.

Not that you were any different.

You had been avoiding him, for weeks now.

It shouldn't have been this difficult to do so. He was not the type to seek people out, much to your dismay. Still, you told yourself it was for the best— believing that if you stayed away from him, the pain would fade.

But why was there still a flicker of hope blooming in your heart for him to call out your name, even just once, when you walked past him in the hallways? More importantly, why did it hurt even more when you were away from him?

You weren’t ready to let go.

Even though every blossom represented a part of your happiness that could never be returned, you still weren’t ready to let go of him.

Not yet.

Not ever.

Your nights were restless; so what? Every second passed with or without him was devastating, so what?

The feelings you harbored for him were much more important than those; it didn't matter that he didn’t need them at all.

Letting out a sigh, you placed the books you carried on the table. The Akademiya was crowded, much like always.

Maybe studying would help clear your head. (It won't. He is the one who fills your thoughts, the one who brightens them.)

You began scribbling meaningless things onto the paper—since all the meaning was reserved for him— when someone sat next to you. You almost flinched at the sound. Looking at the person from the corner of your eye, your breath caught in your throat.

Here he was, next to you.

You wished he would do something, anything. Was he going to talk— maybe?

He didn’t.

Like a reminder that he sat next to you because there were no other seats left, not because he wanted to be there in the first place.

You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You just happened to be there, like you always do. It was just a coincidence. You should have walked away, of course. But the topic was about you anyway; it was what you’d been yearning for— his thoughts.

“The person you’ve been with these past months,” Nahida's voice rang out to the Wanderer, “I don’t see them around you much. Are you two okay?”

Curiosity —a desire to learn— was very suitable for the Goddess of Wisdom.

“Hah, what an absurd question,” his snarky reply caught you off guard. “There is no reason for me to engage with insignificant mortals like them.” The Dendro Archon's gaze deepened as if she knew something he didn’t. None of them said anything after that.

Something inside you shattered.

Biting your lip, hoping it would bleed and produce a sensation more explicit than the lump in your throat, you let a few tears fall. For his sake, letting go of your tears and happiness was easy— easier than letting go of him.

Do you really not want to get better?

You do, truly.

But you want to get better with him.

Fate is a cruel thing, isn’t it?

Maybe what you yearned for wasn’t his thoughts. You definitely would have been better off without hearing them.

No matter how much you wanted to make yourself believe you wouldn’t mind if the feelings were not mutual─ it was simply a lie.

They were the best things you had, now the ones that were destroying you. Like him.

You spent the rest of the day thinking of a life without him.

You didn’t want to live like that, of course. Yet you couldn’t live like this anymore.

So you let go.

You let go of him, bidding a farewell, along with the you who loved him dearly.

When you saw him, you felt just as flowers were blooming in your chest─ from excitement. He felt like a scent from a distant memory of your past─ something melancholic yet fragrant. A lovely and cruel contradiction. Bittersweet.

“Have we met before?”

The concept of erasing one’s existence from the universe was not unfamiliar to the Wanderer. For he was the one who experienced it firsthand.

What he didn’t expect was even as the Wanderer, he got forgotten by the world again.

World?

Ah, in other terms─ you.

And maybe, in another universe─ he could have the right to refer to it as “his” instead.

He mumbled a quiet “No.” The word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth; surprisingly, he hates it. You didn't miss how his shoulders dropped slightly.

You are full of surprises, aren't you? Extending your hand to greet him,

“Shall we do the honors, then?”

It's a sweet melody for his ears; surprisingly, he doesn't mind it.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⠀ notes below .ᐟ ⋆

𓏲⠀ i feel evil BUHWSDHGUD2EGUD2SUIGU (not proofread, feel free to correct any mistakes if there is any!) .ᐟ ⋆

𓏲⠀in my defense everything is my depression playlist's fault !! also i am kinda proud of this work too ??? so maybe it's not a fault... .ᐟ ⋆

𓏲⠀hope you liked it <33 .ᐟ ⋆

© meritski .ᐟ all rights reserved to me, which means; you can not plagiarize, repost, translate or feed my works to ai .ᐟ

White Day💌🐈‍⬛

Learning to accept love with every bite.

You packed lunch for Obanai and Kaburamaru. He planned on skipping breakfast and maybe even lunch altogether, but your packed meal changed his mind.

Pairing: Obanai x gn!reader

(TW: Obanai’s troubled relationship with food, spoilers on why Obanai wears a mask)

Usually, Obanai’s mornings usually are the same; waking up being held by you, getting out of bed to feed Kaburamaru a small treat, heading of to the bathroom to freshen up, eat a small meal before wrapping the bandages over his scars and then heading out for training or a meeting. He noticed the lack of your warmth pressing against his back, wich he usually wakes up to in the mornings, and rolled over on the bed, noticing that your side of the bed was already neatly tucked in. Seems like you headed out early today without telling him. Where do you even have to go out this early? Errands can wait, why not spend some time with him? Tch. After groaning and stretched his limbs out, savouring the warmth of the bed a little longer, he finally forced himself out of the warm bed.

Obanai stepped closer to Kaburamaru’s enclose, giving his companion a couple head-scratches before slipping him pre-made snack cubes into the enclosure. The rest of the morning continued as usual, just a little more lonely. Normally, he’ll eat breakfast for your sake. You remind him to take in his meals regularly with proper portions he feels comfortable eating. Without you, Obanai’d probably fall back into his old habit— skipping meals in favour of training. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

You knew that your boyfriend has a troubled relationship with food. You didn’t know everything about his childhood or past and you never pushed him to reveal things about himself he didn’t want to share, he might need time to proper process his own troubles before sharing it with you, but on the other side you’re also totally fine if he’ll never share those things with you. You’re patient with Obanai and love him for the way he is, so why force him into opening up? Forcing him to talk about his troubles will do more damage than good, so you leave those worries be and focus on better things. That’s what he appreciates being with you so much. He almost feels insecure about you being so good with him, while he barely gives anything back in return…

He stared at his bandages for a good minute. If he wears them now, he won’t eat breakfast. It’s too much of a hassle to slip food between his bandages without staining them, so he’d rather not try. If he eats breakfast now and slips the bandages on then, Obanai will loose valuable time he could be using to train and spar with other hashira. He promised Sanemi to show up early to his manor for training sessions, so why make him pissed by being late? He knew you’d probably disapprove, but Obanai began wrapping the bandages over his jaw and mouth, deciding to skip breakfast for today. He tries to talk into himself that he’ll just eat more lunch but failed, resulting to silently curse at himself.

After letting Kaburamaru join him by making himself comfortable around his neck, he finally made his way downstairs to equip his katana and head out. That’s where he spotted a small bento box prepared on the counter, alongside a sealed paper bag with holes right next to it. His brows furrowed together in slight confusion as he inspected the bento, lifting the lid. He was met with a small letter placed right above two compartments placed inside the box. Scanning the letter, Obanai recognised your terrible handwriting.

Made this for before I headed out, Tengen called me over for an emergency of sorts. There’s some Gyoza so you can eat with your mask on by slipping it through the bandages, it should’t crumble too much, plus they are small enough. I also some vinegar soaked kelp (I know it’s your fav~) if you want to eat without it or alone, so you can choose what you want to eat! Love you lots ♡

PS: I spend most of my morning catching lunch for Kaburamaru, it’s in the bag, hope he likes it!

Obanai felt his cheeks heat up beneath his bandages as a smile started spreading. He folded the letter and tucked it back into the bento box to read again later, inspecting the meals you prepared. There were three Gyoza dumplings tucked into one compartment, the portion he usually eats, and some vinegar soaked kelp in the other, again, the amount the one he likes to eat. He slipped bandages down and grabbed some strands of seaweed with his fingers, stuffing them into his mouth. His smile grew even more as the familiar taste spread in his mouth, but for some reason it tasted even better than usual. After slipping his bandages back over his mouth and putting the lid onto his bento box, he unwrapped the top of the brown paper back and glanced inside. Kaburamaru curiously leaned down as well after noticing the smell of food— there was a poor mice trapped in the bag. You seriously caught this? For Kaburamaru? You do really pay attention to both Obanai and his little companion.

He obviously released the poor mouse since he already has enough snake-friendly food stored in the pantry. He appreciated the effort, but storing a mice in a paper bag for a whole day was a little inhumane, even for Obanai.

After packing the bento box and equipping himself with his katana, he headed off to Sanemi’s, already looking forward to eating the home cooked meal with his friend, being able to show off the lovely bento you prepared for him and only him, while Sanemi is stuck with a random thrown together meal.

🎃

Whumptober prompt: Recovery

I was seriously nervous about posting this. As I mentioned in a post before, I really am insecure about writing for Obanai XD last time I wrote for him was two months ago in my second ever post (Love Languages of the Hashira pt.2)— So I hoped you enjoyed this!! Let me know what to change or add about Obanai! Also, I know pet snakes eat mice and life small preys and stuff but I didn’t want to write about that part so I simplifies it to “snack cubes” or whatever I called them XD Hope that’s okay!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3 I appreciate every single comment, repost and like. Thank you for supporting me for so long!

Here’s my event Masterlist 🎃

got inspired by the trailer

<3 masterlist

pro gamer bf kinich who can’t even remember how he got recruited. his streams have the most basic layout. just a random box of his deadpan face at the side of the screen. not even saying shit 80% of the time and the only noises you’d hear from his live are the angry sounding clicking noise.

sightings of you at the background happen so often, fans make compilations and even post screenshots on twitter of you cuddling with a purring ajaw at your shared bed.

kinich, with his powerful resting bitch face, tolerates the loud cheers whenever he enters tourneys with his team. the only smiling face beside him is your supportive presence, along with mualani who excitedly invites everyone to a victory dinner.

during a bloodborne endurance stream, your bf who never struggles to keep his cool, was bursting with bubbling frustration which surprised his audience.

you, not knowing any better and assumed he wasn’t live, began consoling his hunched form while petting his hair. unaware to the speedy way his chat is spamming at the unexpected way kinich nuzzles into your stomach. some would even say he whined.

the team loves dragging his ass for that, they never fail to mention how soft he is whenever it comes to you.

during a backstage interview after another seasonal victory, he almost jumps on sethos who had the courage to tease and expose him to the interviewer. mualani starts recording the scene so that she could send it to you while xiao and ga-ming watch from the side, the youngest occasionally trying to mediate the situation.

you only found out about the whole ordeal through twitter, asking him about it while kinich grumbles into your shoulder.

sigh. monotone and deadpan streamer kinich w a feral fandom who eats up his interactions with his s/o

baby, baby - ft. kinich

synopsis - mornings with ur boyfriend and his annoying lizard

includes - 0.4k wc, short and sweet, gross disgusting fluff, sfw

a/n - first fic, I really really hate this, no one talk to me I'm going to hide in a hole gulp

the natlan sun creeps through the curtains of you and your boyfriend's small, shared cottage, causing your eyes to slowly flutter open. your mouth feels dry as you wipe the dried drool on the corner of your lip, grumbling as you roll over, reaching for your boyfriend. yet, you only feel the slightly wrinkled silk of your sheets.

suddenly the bed feels colder at the loss of whatever contact you had fallen asleep with. kinich's your shirt draped over your body paired with sweatpants does nothing to quell the shiver on your skin. sure, you were used to kinich waking up first, but archons, did you hate it.

you sigh, sitting up before standing, your legs feeling like jello as you wobble to the living space. you enter to the sight of kinich wearing your pink "kiss the cook" apron, the one in which mualani got you as a gag gift for your birthday.

he swats ajaw away from the knob of the stove, the latter trying to turn it just to burn the pancakes kinich was working oh so hard to prepare for you before you woke up. but alas, it was futile.

you were awake.

and you were giggling.

his eyes widen as he turns his head back, just to see the smile that he loves so much. the one that constantly reminds him just how much he cares about you unlike any other.

"kinichhh!" you coo, rushing up to him and pulling his cheek. "you look so adorable!" you smile, showering his left cheek with as many kisses as possible.

he huffs, "it was supposed to be a surprise," kinich sighs as he glares at ajaw. ajaw simply shimmies away before disappearing, the effect of a few tiny pixels springing out from his departure. kinich sighs, seeing your stupid lovesick grin before moving the pancakes to a plate.

he spreads butter, syrup, and your preferred fruit onto the pancake, putting two small dollops of whipped cream on it soon after before using his fork to feed you a bite.

archons, the flavors just melt on your tongue. he's always been a great cook, but the way he cooks pancakes.. making the middle light and fluffy with a light crisp on the edge before perfectly topping it with precision, care, and love..

"yummy.." you sing, your arms wrapping around his neck. the morning ends with you two sat at the dining table, sharing a breakfast as you discuss your plans for the day with each other.

࣪ . ִֶָ๋ 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.”

"How many likes do you think this will get you?"

Scaramouche x Reader

 ♡ SMUT

 ♡ NOT PROOFREAD

ASHRODISIAC'S NOTE:

I have 3 quizzes tomorrow😭😭😭

--

But... theres always time for smut, right?

--

You post a photo of Scaramouche without a shirt and get the idea of slowly stripping him from a piece of his clothing each post, the amount of likes needed for the next tl be removed gradually increasing.

But... I guess he got a bit tired of it.

"A thousand likes?"

Scaramouche stared at your screen with a look of disgust, his brows furrowed as he watched comments burst in. "A thousand likes." You said, confirming what he was seeing, and continued: "On a photo of you without a shirt."

(anonymous): BARK BARK BARK

(cvm.slvt): PANTS NEXT 🙏

An idea bubbled up, and you turned with a devious but somehow innocent smile.

"Hey..." you said. He looked at you with a bored expression, seemingly unknowing to your plan. "What."

--

Scaramouche quickly put his clothes back on, all the while staring at the ground and muttering inconherent cuss words.

"Ten thousand likes, and his underwear's next... "

You wrote in your caption, below the photo you snapped... of Scaramouche.

Then, after thinking for a bit, you replaced the "ten thousand" with "twenty thousand", then changed it back. "How many likes do you think this is worth?" You asked. Scaramouche huffed, "don't know, don't give a shit. And I won't be doing this again, got it?"

You smirked, then replaced the "ten thousand" with "fifty thousand".

"Alright, then."

--

"Oh, shit..."

(hornyassshit): (reader's user) WHERE THE FUCK IS IT

You looked at the bustling amount of likes coming in every second, and how it was going well over what the desired amount was.

(Thelittlebitch): WE NEED MORE

"A hundred... fucking... thousand..."

(uwuuwuii): WHERE IS THE NEXT PART

"shit, shit, shit! What am I gonna do!?"

You muted the notifications, then sighed, clutching your phone. Then, switching your app to Discord, you rang a call to Scaramouche...

He answered the call before the ringing even started.

"The fuck you want now?" He was laying on his couch, his raven hair spread over his pillow.

"So... remember the last photo we took?"

He stared at the camera with irritation. "Don't tell me."

You smiled nervously, and was surprised by his sudden reply:

"Fine. Come over."

--

"How many likes do you think this will get you?

All you wanted was a photo from him, now you were in this position...

His palm against your spine, your back arching at an impossible angle, you barely heard what he had said at the absurd noise of skin slapping and your whines. "Looks like the viewers like it, and so do you, bitch." He chuckled, bringing the phone on the sheets closer to you, resting it on a pillow so you could see your own fucked out face in the camera. He had started streaming on your account.

"How many likes would it get you if I managed to get you pregnant?" He said in a mocking tone, his fingers trailing up your nape. You bit the fabric of his pillow, which smelled like his cologne, tears forming in your eyes. "Fucking slut for likers, are you?"

Notifications screamed from your phone, but the only thought settling in your empty mind was how good Scaramouche was fucking you, how good it felt...

"Cumming!" You yelped, the pillow you were burying your head in now soaked with tears and saliva.

"Fuck, so am I... Should I cum in or out?" Scaramouche asked, pressing his lips against your neck, panting slightly. Before you could answer, the comments did it for you...

(anonymous): IN

...fuck you, anonymous.

"In, it is, then."

Throwing your head back with a sob, your hips buckling, you felt him release. Your moans faltered as he pulled out, and you were left breathless. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and a notification rang on your phone.

(Thelittlebitch): round two plz

"oh, looks like your viewers really want a round two."

That user really was a little bitch, huh?

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

“Just a friend? Friends don’t jerk off using the panties they pulled from your hamper.” He spat at you, practically vibrating with anger as he gripped your bicep to keep you from walking away. “What the fuck are you even talking about Sanemi?” You flinched away involuntarily, his grip not budging as he stared you down. “Your precious little Tomioka, who you treat like an innocent little lap dog, gets himself off using your worn underwear.” You blinked at him, face morphing into a look of disbelief and disgust. “Maybe you should stop trying to be so different and take the fucking hint. People don’t hang around him for a fucking reason.” It took you a second to find your voice, eyes shifting over to the direction of where everyone was hanging out. “Y-you know what, here’s a better question, Sanemi. How the fuck do you know he does this?”

👋🤐

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 😋