hi!! i'm angel, 20+, any pronouns, and i'm a yandere genshin-centric reader insert blog! i write for fun and as a creative outlet for my own experiences. i do this in my spare time, so pls be patient with me.
About my Writing
i write lots of dark and uncomfortable content. please proceed with caution and dont use any of my content to hurt yourself. always read the TWs.
I also write a considerable amount of NSFW content (tagged as nsft), so please be 18+ before engaging with my posts.
i love taking requests! i mostly do oneshots, but i will also write headcanons, drabbles, and just general thirstposting. i try to complete all requests in the order they are sent, so please be patient if yours is taking a while.
i'm comfortable writing most dark topics! i wont do underage or incest, but other than that, request freely! <3
summary: a somewhat broken darling reflects on their captivity
word count: 2.5k
warnings: stockholm syndrome, violence, asphyxiation, childe is called ajax, manipulation, abuse, dissociation, codependence, anxiety and paranoia, neglect
Sometimes, Ajax went away for long periods of time.
He would leave the pantry barely stocked, forcing you to ration for yourself for archons-know how long, and he'd lock away all the matches and kindling so the cabin was always freezing.
In your first few weeks in your new home, he left only for hours or days at a time, returning with food or firewood, never warning you when he'd come back.
At first, you used that time to the fullest, scrambling through every inch of the little cabin he kept you in, searching for any secrets you could exploit.
You thought about escaping so often then, your every waking moment spent contemplating how you'd do it, convincing Ajax you could be left alone, and biding your time until the perfect opportunity.
Then, your opportunity came. Ajax, seemingly out of nowhere, gifted you a novel written in your home country, which he must have had imported just for you.
"Here, to keep you entertained while I'm gone," he said, the word ‘gone’ attracting your attention more than the gift itself, "I'm going on a… a trip. For a week." He was coy about this 'trip,' as if you were dumb. "Can I trust you here by yourself for that long, darling?" he asked, cupping your cheek tenderly, in stark contrast to his threatening words. His tone was playful, but you picked up on the ‘hidden’ warning. Regardless, you nodded your head eagerly, promising good behavior, ushering him out the door. A whole week! You could be halfway to Natlan by then.
-
The following attempt was such an explosive failure, you remember it like it was yesterday. Ajax unexpectedly came back from his trip several days early, swinging the wooden door wide open with a call of your name- only to see you knelt on the floor before him with a pin in hand- you had been caught red-handed picking the lock.
Time seemed to be still in that moment, you remember struggling to read Ajax's blank expression, his dead eyes seeming to look through you, not at you. Then, without warning, he grabbed you by the arm and flung you out the door into the Snezhnayan winter.
It was cold. You held your arms out to catch your fall and they were buried almost to the elbow in freezing snow. You turned back to look at Ajax, who was glaring at you from the doorframe.
"You want out there? Fine." He slammed the door shut and clicked the lock.
Shivering, you looked around and saw, for the first time, the outside of your cozy prison. It rested in a wide clearing surrounded by a dense pine forest that seemed to stretch forever. Over the trees, distantly, you saw mountains.
You tried to stand up on your wobbly, trembling knees, struggling to find balance in the thick snow. You quickly came to realize that you were severely underdressed for this cold, in only thin, loose fabric. No worries, you could still make this work. After all, you were outside, that was the hard part, really.
Luckily, you could see Ajax's trail of smushed snow and walk through his bootprints. Every barefooted step towards the treeline was pure torture, but hopefully you could follow the trail to wherever Ajax was coming from.
The frosty air seemed to seep quickly through your flesh and into your bones. You could barely feel your feet, extremities already becoming numb and legs getting stiff, but you forced yourself to keep going. You had to try.
You looked back towards the cabin; smoke was now pouring from the chimney. You thought about the warm fire Ajax must have lit, you longingly pictured the thick fur coat he had been wearing when he opened the door, and you felt…
Hopeless. You were never getting out of here.
You took a few more wobbly steps, so close to the treeline. Maybe I can use sticks to make a fire, you thought, the snow is thinner under the trees, surely it will be smooth sailing from there. You managed another step before your knees gave out and you felt the cold hug of the snow. Snowflakes melted instantly against your warmer skin, leaving you freezing and wet.
You close your eyes. At least you tried.
Some time (minutes, hours?) later, you felt your cold body being lifted from the snow and wrapped in something soft and warm. Instantly, you cuddled into it, coherent thoughts slowly returning to your mind. You're so relieved that you're alive, you forget where you are, you don't even bother to open your eyes and simply snuggle closer into the warmth.
You yelp in surprise when you're suddenly dropped onto the hard, dry floor.
Ajax kneels over you, his usually sharp features downturned with concern.
You stared at him blankly for a moment, your still-foggy brain swirling with conflicting emotions. You struggled over whether to be angry or thankful, but in the end, the only thing that mattered to you in that moment was that you were so cold, and Ajax was so warm.
You crawl forward into his arms, which wrap around you perfectly, like two thick, heavy blankets. He hugs you tightly, a warm hand gently combing through your hair. “‘m sorry,” you whimper, bluish lips barely able to form the words you want to say.
"What did we learn?" He asked gently, his voice was barely a whisper, but his hot breath against your neck felt like a kiss.
You didn't try to escape again after that.
-
Ajax's love was like quicksand. It sucked you in and suffocated you, much like the man himself. When he wasn't out for 'business' (he always tiptoed around the subject, like you didn't know who he was) he was attached to you at the hip.
Tonight was one such night. A blizzard raged outside, making it impossible to see out the frosty windows. The cabin was dark, and you sighed through chattering teeth, these stormy nights were among the creepiest, the gravity of your situation being significantly more difficult to ignore. Ajax had his arm slung over your shoulder, a thick quilt- sewn by his mother as a housewarming gift- settled around both your shoulders. You could barely make out the curves of his face in the dim lighting, but you didn't need to see him to feel his gaze.
He lifted a nimble hand to stroke your face. His calloused hand was cold too, freezing and rough, and you flinched away, shivering. Despite that, he smiled. "Is my bunny cold?" he teased.
"No," you whined, unconvincing, curling the blanket ever tighter around yourself as Ajax pulled away from you, taking his body heat with him. He strode over to the stone fireplace along the far wall of your small living den, and you watched him kneel before it, lamenting the Ajax-shaped emptiness in the seat next to you.
You intently watched Ajax strike a match, a small, orange light illuminating his face. The dark shadows contrasting the warm glow made his face look strangely creepy, but also accentuated his sharp, strangely handsome features. You couldn't help but smile weakly as he kindled the little match into a flame. Ajax always kept you warm, you couldn't survive a place like this without him. you wouldn't be in a place like this without him, part of you thinks, a small, quiet part that gets quieter every day. You smother the thought.
The fire steadily grew, warmer and brighter, and Ajax turned to you, smiling expectantly. You snapped out of your thoughts and sit up straight. "Thank you, Ajax," you mutter, obediently.
He opens a storage chest by the fireplace and pulls out a hardcover book and some pillows. "Won't you come sit with me?" he orders, and you crawl off the sofa, pulling the blanket alongside you, to sit on the wooden floor next to Ajax. The warm light of the fireplace allows you to see his book in more detail. Snezhnayan Fairy Tales, it looks old: faded, greyish-brown covers and a fancy title typed in an outdated font. It's edges were slightly frayed, worn down from being held by so many hands.
Ajax settles a pillow between his legs and invites you to lay in his lap. You do so, letting the heat from the fire combined with his warmth sink deeply into you, making you sleepy. Ajax cracks open his dusty book- literally, it makes a crack sound as it opens, possibly for the first time in years- flips the pages to a random story and starts reading to you in a gentle, coddling voice.
Naively, you think to yourself that this perfect evening could only be better with a warm cup of cocoa, as if this was normal, cute even, like you were lovers on a couples retreat. You don't have much time to ponder before Ajax's voice lulls you soundly to sleep.
-
Ajax was haunted by a hunger you could never sate; his dull, deep-blue eyes glazing over with a need you didn't understand. He would suddenly vanish, unannounced, in the middle of the day, often leaving you wondering how long you'd be forced to fend for yourself in your freezing hellscape.
Hours later, he'd stumble through the main door, cheerful like nothing had happened, the light having returned to his eyes, making him look almost sane. Usually, you were so happy he hadn't left you for dead, you could ignore the mysterious stains on his clothes- they were probably there before- and the faint, rusty odor he carried.
(If you dared ask where he went, he'd dance around the topic, merely chastising you for poking your nose where it ‘doesn't belong,’ changing the topic to something he deemed appropriate for you. The double life he had, for some reason, he was desperate to keep it secret from you, like he thought you couldn't handle it.)
You recall one dark day in particular, in which you had awoken from a peaceful slumber to a completely empty house…
-
Ajax rarely let you wake up alone, so you were instantly on edge. Tentatively, you explored each room, one by one, calling out Ajax's name. Each second you couldn't find him, your yelling became increasingly panicked, breathing becoming more and more erratic. So what if he isn't home, you tried to console yourself, to no avail, he leaves all the time… except, since the incident, he never left without saying goodbye.
Where had he gone? What if he was finally bored of you- you had been settling a bit too much into routine lately- and he abandoned you here to freeze to death?
You paced back and forth through the house for what felt like hours, mind racing with worst-case scenarios. In truth, you had no idea what time it was, but when the faint glow through the windows transitioned from yellow to orange to silver, you officially feared the worst.
Unable to control your anxiety, you sank to your knees and let out a desperate scream. It was over, Ajax was gone and you'd either freeze or starve-
The door creaked open, Ajax's concerned, but chipper voice echoing in your ears, “Bunny? You okay? I heard-”
You jerk your head up, teary eyes making contact with Ajax's beautiful face as he finally walks in, and you start sobbing with relief. You leap to your feet and throw yourself onto him. Seeing your sorry state, Ajax chuckles and wraps his arms around you, “Aww, I missed you too, cutie” He teases, and even through your hysterics, you find the energy to be angry.
“You left! How could you laugh at me-?” You hiccup through your sobs, only tickling Ajax more. You beat your fists against his chest angrily, to no effect. “I was so…” you trail off with a sniffle.
Ajax manages to quiet his blatant snickering long enough to cajole you, taking your swinging fists in his hands to still them. “It's okay, Bunny, I'm here now… I would never leave you, silly.” His condescending tone is not lost on you, but you are too exhausted from bawling to care, finally giving into him. Just as you always do. One of his hands presses against the back of your head, holding you against his chest and gently stroking your scalp. The soothing gesture makes you just sleepy enough that when he scoops his free arm under your knees, you don't resist.
-
You and Ajax both worked quite hard to maintain the flimsy illusion that this relationship was any kind of happy, any semblance of normal. Your sanity depended on it, but even so, the facade sometimes slipped.
The murky, cold dishwater swallows your hands up to your wrists. You mindlessly scrub porcelain, staring at the reflective metal basin. Your reflection is warped by the water, you barely recognize yourself. Not that you could anyways.
You look back at your failed attempts to resist or reason with him and cringe. Each night spent locked in the cellar, until your fists ached from banging the door and your voice was raw from crying out to him, still haunted you.
That cellar- he must have had it built just to torture you- it had never been used for anything else. It was a wide, empty room with four concrete walls and a filthy dirt floor. Once, you stupidly tried to exploit your cellar time by digging a hole in the corner, trying to burrow out like some…
Like some kind of bunny.
Of course, you got caught, when Ajax came down the creaky steps to fetch you (maybe he found your lack of wailing suspicious) with a storm lantern in hand. By the light of the lantern, your little crater, only a few inches deep, was all-too visible. He was so angry, he…
…You put your hands over his, not prying them away, just holding tightly onto him. Though you are pleading with your eyes for him to let you go, secretly, deep down, you hope that he won't, because the warmth of his hands and the burning in your lungs makes you feel alive. It makes adrenaline course through your nerves in a terrible, exciting way that you learned to love, because if you didn't, you wouldn't survive…
You shudder at the memory. Best not to think about it.
A warm hand resting itself on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts. You jump away from the touch, skittish, and Ajax laughs. Over the years, you had come to hate that melodic sound, as it always seemed to be at your expense.
You pull your hands from the water to see that they were pruned and wrinkly. How long have you been standing here?
“S-sorry, Ajax, I don't know what's gotten into me…” you mutter, still coming to terms with the reality you were in.
His hand on your shoulder trailed down your arm, eventually clasping your still-wet hand. “That's okay, Bunny, you'll make it up to me,” he remarks playfully. Before you can ask how, he starts pulling you with him down the hall.
In the end, though, you know it doesn't matter. You'd do anything to keep him happy, and not just because your life might depend on it. You were hesitant to admit it to yourself, and certainly never to him, but you knew why.
a/n: this was requested before wanderers reveal (yes that long ago- so sorry) so i went with fatui scara!
addtl notes: first time writing a submissive yandere! i hope it turned out well.
The hallways were long, so long, they seemed to never end. You practically had to speed-walk to reach the other end of the Tsaritsa's palace in time for another one of the many activities Kunikuzushi forced you to attend every day. He liked to keep you too tired to resist even on your least busy days. Your ankles ached when you finally reached the dining hall, stopping just outside the door to catch your breath.
The other Harbinger's voices echoed through the long, rectangular room. Every room in this palace was dizzyingly huge, the sound of chatter amplified by the domed ceiling nearly giving you a headache. Right on time, the sound of the dinner bell rang through your ears. Time was up- you rushed into the room and dove into the empty seat reserved for you- right next to Kunikuzushi.
He side-eyed you from his seat, you could barely hear his whisper over the clinking of plates, "You're late again." You could never be punctual enough for him, if you weren't early, you were late. You rolled your eyes.
"I had to run here from the east wing," you whispered back harshly. If you two had been alone, you'd give him an earful about your busy schedule, but you know he wouldn't care anyways when he gives you that smug smile.
Moonbeams shone through the high-arched windows and illuminated the entire room in a silvery light. From the elegantly raised throne at the far end of the banquet table, the Tsaritsa's melodic voice addressed the table, and all the world seemed to fall silent to listen to her. Dinners in the palace were a regular occurance for you, but to be blessed with the Tsaritsa's presence was a special occasion. The guests at the table followed up the Tsaritsa's declaration by reciting a prayer to her grace. The chatter resumed like normal as the guests began to eat the finely prepared meats and treats.
A few other harbingers were accompanied by a 'plus-one,' such as yourself. You pitied the poor fools, as if your situation wasn't just as grim, shifting in your seat uncomfortably- all the harbingers looked at you with a certain hunger, insatiably scrutinizing you. These power-hungry creeps were the worst part about this place, and your so-called lover, the Balladeer, may have been the worst of them all.
You wore your disdain plainly on your face, glaring at any harbinger that dared to catch your gaze. Kunikuzushi notices, of course, and puts a possessive hand on your thigh, squeezing- his hand was so smooth and cold, the feeling pulls you away from your sour thoughts…
"Eat," he commands, quietly, but sternly. You look at some of the treats before you- fresh grapes, oranges, berries- hard to come by in this frozen desert. You pulled a grape from a vine and ate it, its juice was so sweet, you'd think it was picked today, but you found it so hard to hold your appetite. The Snezhnayan snow was so harsh… You hoped your family had enough food to last the winter.
The feeling of several pairs of eyes running up and down your body stays on you the whole dinner, you find yourself lost deep in your own thoughts trying to escape the discomfort. By the time all the dinner guests had their fill, the Tsaritsa's hypnotic voice sang to her small crowd once more, and suddenly the night was over and Kunikuzushi was leading you back to your shared room.
The room is dimly illuminated by moonlight until you carefully light candles around the room. You sigh, another day was nearly over and you felt like you'd achieved nothing. Your Balladeer seemed just as unamused, "You were cold during the dinner," he said, accusing, "I would almost think you don't appreciate what I do for you."
His statement seemed to trigger something within you, your face getting red and hot. You point your finger at him, "This is your fault! I hate this place and I hate you!" You huffed, the regret setting in almost instantly as you stared tentatively at Scaramouche, awaiting his reaction.
He glared at you with expected fury for a moment, but suddenly a calm seemed to wash over him, his expression softening. Now more sympathetic, his stormy eyes were half-lidded and clouded over. "I see," he said, closing the already-small gap between you, "You don't mean that. You just have so much pent-up stress," he said in a gentle, silky voice. His dainty hand caressed your flushed cheek, and you instinctively lean into his cool touch for relief from the hot blush in your face. You really did mean it, or at least, you were so sure when you said it. Maybe he was right…
He smirked at your reaction, slowly pushing you towards the plush armchair in the corner until the backs of your knees bent and you fell onto the seat. "Let me help you relax," he muttered, and your heart thumped, against your better judgement. He knelt on the chair with you, partially sitting on your lap, one knee pressed gracelessly against your groin.
You leaned back as far as you could into the chair, breathing heavily, trying to escape Kunikuzushi's rising body heat. You closed your eyes- and felt him start to grind himself against your thigh.
Your eyes flutter open and see that he was already staring at you, his face flushed red just like yours, thighs rhythmically sliding back and forth with some desperation. The lewd display alone is enough to make you hard, but then his hand touches your dick, and your mind instantly gets hazy. You use your free hands to wrap around Kuni's waist and guide him on your thigh as he eagerly stroked you off.
You couldn't bear the heat, pushing him off just long enough to strip your shirt. He makes use of that time to fall to his knees and unfasten your pants- freeing your erection. You watch with lustful fascination as he parts his porcelain pink lips and spreads his saliva along your tip. You blink slowly and throb with desire.
Kuni- your beloved Kuni, just as impatient, lowers his bottoms and slides back into your lap, slowly lowering himself onto your slick tip. You smile and return your hands to his waist, sighing with relief as you part his hole. His claws hold onto your shoulders tightly as he grinds along your lap, you shudder with pleasure. He rides you somewhat slowly, and you needily buck up into him.
He moans, and the beautiful sound rings in your hazy brain, you lose control, using your hold on his thighs to bounce him along your dick. You don't last much longer like this, releasing your pent-up energy into him. The lustful fog in your brain seems to clear, replaced with simple tiredness. Kunikuzushi sighs with relief, sliding off you and clothing himself.
"There. Feel better?" he snickers, mockingly. You're too tired to protest, simply refastening your pants and climbing into the nearby bed. He follows suit, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently pets your hair. "Don't worry," he coos, "You won't have to stay in this taxing place for long… I'll take you somewhere we can be together soon. Just the two of us…"
You're too tired to care about his words, instead, you drift off to sleep.
summary: yandere cyno/GN reader. you are punished for transgressions against the akademiya
Warnings: expl!cit, non/dub-con, abuse of authority/power imbalance, intercrural se/x, cyno is mean, abuse of italics
a/n: requests soon, i bumped this up because i noticed a tragic lack of cyno fics
Cyno crept down the damp alleyway, stopping in front of the door to a cheap looking hole-in-the-wall studio.
The sages had sent him word of a certain journalist who was reportedly digging in places they shouldn’t have been, and getting a little too comfortable spreading Akademiya secrets. As the General Mahamatra, no one else was better suited to neutralize this threat.
And so, he was given a lead to find the whereabouts of your base of operations. WIth his bounty hunting expertise, he was able to track you within the day. Child’s play, really. You’d think someone doing something as blatantly illegal as you were would at least try to cover their tracks.
But no, as he turned the unlocked door knob of your office (if it could even be called that), it became increasingly apparent that you were doing the bare minimum to hide your little ‘investigation.’
He carefully opened the door, just wide enough for him to slip through, and there you were, standing by a messy desk, vigorously searching through hundreds of loose documents- what the hell were you doing in here? It was surprising the Akademiya even filed you as a threat, when you were so clearly incompetent at filing.
“There you are.” he says, forsaking his element of surprise. Not like he needed it anyways.
You spun around, trying to push some of the documents out of view. “General Mahamatra! What can I do for you?” you ask innocently, though Cyno can sense your guilt. You flutter your eyelids at him, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible, though deep down you knew it was already too late.
He strides towards you. “You can stop playing dumb and come with me.” He says.
You force a laugh, like you don’t understand what he means. “What is this about?” You avert your eyes from his piercing stare, it felt like he was peering directly into your soul.
“You know exactly what this is about,” he says, already fed up with your act. He advances on you, and it's over before you can even flinch. Your arms are wrenched behind your back as he flips you around, shoving you face-down against the desk, holding you down by the nape of your neck.
“You are under arrest for illegal distribution of information and conspiracy against the sages. Come quietly, and it will be easier for both of us.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about… Akademiya lapdog-” you spit. In response, he pushes your face harder into the desk. You can feel the splinters from the unlacquered wood scratching your cheek, the sudden pain compelling you to emit a whine.
Cyno felt his length twitch against your rear at the sound. You feel it too.
You shift uncomfortably, trying to crane your head back to look at him. “General… Isn’t this against, uhm, protocol…?” you ask.
…Well, technically, so long as you were ‘dealt’ with, he doesn't have to arrest you. He just preferred to deal with this kind of thing the official way.
“Since when did you care about following rules, criminal?” His voice was sharp, laced with a dangerous threat. You held your tongue.
Cyno was conflicted. He knew, as well as anyone, that the sages were up to something unsightly- why else would they be so desperate to deal with some lowlife reporter? Was it really fair to arrest you? He thought about the punishment you’d likely face at the hands of the Akademiya.
…However, he still had to do his job. And, fortunately, an alternative was presenting itself to him quite nicely. And you were very cute.
He remained silent, deep in thought, for quite some time, and you were getting a bit restless. You shifted again, trying to wiggle out of his suffocating grip. His attention is instantly snapped back to you and the friction you were generating. He could barely contain himself as he unclasped his belt, releasing your arms.
He was doing you a favor, really. Surely you would prefer this over a lifetime in prison, or exile to the desert?
Once his member was free, he carefully slipped it between your thighs, grinding it against your groin, creating some friction of his own.
You whimpered at the sensation. This whole situation was beyond belief. The General Mahamatra, one of the most important people in all of Sumeru City, and you, of all people-
You’re pulled away from your thoughts after a particularly pleasant thrust. “General.. Cyno-” you start.
“Sh- shut up,” he mutters through whines, and the room falls silent apart from your shared panting and the sound of his skin against yours.
He’s so warm, you think to yourself, mind wandering as you try to relax and enjoy yourself.
His movements become more erratic, though he’s very careful not to slip in, and his free hand slides under your shirt and up your spine. You shiver, and he shivers too, releasing his pent-up frustration all over your legs and the edge of your desk.
Cyno leaned in, so close that you could feel the snout of his headpiece nuzzle into your hair, and whispered coarsely into your ear, “I better not catch you sniffing around again… Or I'll have to come back. Understand?” He's trying to hide it, but his breathing is heavy and labored.
You nodded your head eagerly, and felt his crushing weight gently ease off of you, your lungs sucking in a much-needed breath. He reached around you and gathered the mass of papers off your desk indiscriminately (you think you saw him swipe the deed to the studio…), stalking out the door without another word.
Hello! Are we getting a masterlist soon? Or do we already have it? Navigating your stories are hard without a masterlist hehe
gosh, it didn't even occur to me that this was something people would be interested in! I didnt even realize i had this many fics already. ill get one posted soon
Can I request a yandere zhongli ax male yaksha x yandere Xiao pls
Title: protection
Word count: 1.4k
Summary: yan! xiao / gn! reader / yan! zhongli. You need help, and your dearest companions are quick to your rescue.
Warnings: mild yandere, codependence, mild violence, xiao is called alatus, zhongli is called rex lapis
Note: this was written with male reader in mind, but i ended up not using any gendered language
Alatus was your senior yaksha. Being an adepti, you had great martial prowess and years of experience. Being a new recruit to Rex Lapis’s army, however, you had much to learn in the way of skill. Lucky for you, Alatus was willing to mentor you.
In his own words, the wrath of fallen gods never sleeps. Free time was sparse for him, but on days where weaker gods posed little threat to Liyue, he somehow found time to train with you.
His training was a bit… strict, you did it perfectly or you did it wrong. Still, you felt yourself growing stronger after each session.
The other yakshas noted the amount of time you spent together. They had no need for training, and they were much too busy to spare time to train you, so Alatus was the warrior that you saw the most. They didn’t seem to mind though, sometimes giggling amongst themselves when you two walked into a room together. It was like they knew something you didn’t.
Though Alatus was your mentor, Rex Lapis was your idol. From humble beginnings, fending for yourself, Rex Lapis had taken you in and taught you to utilize your strength for the good of others. You had always had to look after yourself, so having to look out for the safety of an entire nation… It was quite a heavy weight, but Rex Lapis had been so helpful. He was so responsible and wise, you looked up to him more than anyone else.
Whenever you found time, between training and fighting, you spent it with Rex Lapis. You would ask him questions, which he often answered thoughtfully, in such a way that left you even more curious. Your conversations lasted for ages because of this cycle, but you didn’t mind.
Everything you had, you owed to those two.
Over time, though you felt you were getting more capable, you were assigned less missions by Rex Lapis. The missions you did get seemed to stagnate in difficulty. It frustrated you, but when you confronted Rex Lapis, he would tell you that he knew what was best for you. To just trust him, and that you’d know when you were ready.
When you confronted Alatus, he would concur. You needed to train more, he’d say. Don’t worry, you’ll get there eventually, he’d say. Besides, the threats looming over Liyue were thinning out, so there was no need to rush. Even your senior yakshas were having days off.
Alatus suddenly had more free time to train you. You didn’t mind getting to spend so much time with him, not at all, but the endless days of training became dull and boring. You wished you had more opportunities to actually use the skills he was teaching you.
Rex Lapis comforted you in the meantime, sharing story after story of his own historic exploits, of the other nations he had traveled to, and his dislike of their archons. It was nice, and you loved hearing about all the things you’d never be able to see, but no amount of imagination was able to kill the dull ache of boredom. You wanted to do these things. You wanted to gather your own experiences to share. You weren’t allowed to travel too far out from Jueyun Karst, in case of any emergencies in which you would need to be ready to fight at a moment's notice. This put a huge roadblock in any dreams of seeing the world, but Rex Lapis was always quick to assure you, everything you needed was right here.
~
Alatus and Rex Lapis were having a meeting today, one you were not permitted to attend, and the other yakshas were deployed, leaving you alone to occupy yourself.
Of course, the natural conclusion was to follow the distant distress call to prove yourself to your master.
The call leads you out to a marsh, with elegant cranes dipping their beaks in the water, and tall, thin blades of grass gently swishing in the wind. Notably, with no monster present. You step further into the area, the mud parting under your feet with a squelch, and observe. Alatus had always advised you to be wary of your surroundings, so you turn your head, searching for any sources of distress. You hear the footsteps of a bird- no, wait, too heavy to be a bird-
Before you can draw your weapon, a warm hand closes over your face and squeezes your mouth firmly closed- you try to bite, but your attacker’s grip is firm, attempting to prevent you from breathing. Their other arm is cinched painfully around your waist, trying to hold you still.
You struggled, to little effect. You were something of an.. ambush predator. Self defense was not your strong suit, as if you were doing your job right, the enemy wouldn’t have the opportunity to turn against you.
Alatus had noticed this, and self defense was going to be the subject of your next training session…
The hand on your face has already pinched your nose, and you were already growing dizzy. You struggle until your muscles ache, but the fight leaves you soon enough.
~
The cave is cold. And damp. Notably, it’s also empty, devoid of kidnappers.
You search the room, finding nothing but a gated exit lacking a key. You begin to worry, what an idiot you had to be to end up here. Rex Lapis had told you you weren’t ready, but you just HAD to go and test it. Now you were fucked. Your weapons were taken, you had no idea why you were taken, and you had no idea how to get back.
Did Rex Lapis even know you were gone? Would he be able to track you? It seemed unlikely. You didn’t want to die here.
There were many yakshas before you, and there will be more after you, such was the nature of this life. But your contract with Rex Lapis still left much work to be done.
Even if you weren’t as strong as Alatus, you were still a yaksha. You may go down, but you wouldn’t go down without a fight. You look around at the cave walls, desperate for an improvised weapon. The ancient cave floor is littered with jagged stone, so you pick one and hide in the darkest corner you can find by the gate.
You wait.
~
Alatus is the first to notice. It’s one of the first things he does, after he’s done speaking with Rex Lapis, to search the areas you frequent and verify your safety. He’s considerate like that, and when he notices you’re not in any of your usual spots, he starts to worry. He reports to Rex Lapis, and the two of them form a search party to find you.
~
The rusty gate hinges slide against each other as the door opens, and you raise your sharpened stone to strike. Footsteps slowly make their way into the cave, and when they’re in just the right spot, you jump out.
You freeze up, arm raised mid-air, when you see the ones walking into the room were your two most trusted allies. The muscles in your hand relax just enough that the rock slides out of your grip, thumping onto the ground. The look on Alatus’s face is pure relief, like seeing you has lifted a weight from his shoulders.
Your knees buckle under you, and Rex Lapis kneels down to catch you. You collapse in his hold and cry out.
"You were right." You dig your fingers into his clothing. Alatus has crouched down by you as well, watching you with great care. You continue, "I'm not strong enough yet… You're right." The hands around you hold tighter, and you feel Alatus's hand joining on your shoulder.
They help you up gently, comforting you as they walk you back to your home.
Rex Lapis and Alatus promise that you won't be in this position again. They would keep you safe until they decided you were strong enough to fight alongside the others.
Until then, they will be there, and you'll have nothing to worry about.
Oh god, yae, lmaoo she is mad! I'm so grateful! Thank you! I hope that you don't see me as a stalker lol. Um... If i can, can i get yandere scaramouche again, but this time~ male reader manage to escape and run into traveler.
Now scaramouche want to kill traveler but he just can't, he try from day to weeks and then go into month. Now what if he just walk in a random place and saw reader is having a smut time with aether he can hear them see them but he can't attack them cuz ya know? Plot lol. I just want to see a lil scara getting jealous and angry. (Probably cuz he saw reader as a sl-)
a/n: i strayed from the prompt a little to make this work sfw, i hope thats ok <3
“Remember,” Kunikuzushi says, lifting his overcoat off the rack, “Two days. Don’t act a fool while I'm gone.”
You nod curtly, standing with your hands folded politely in front of you, waiting for him to leave. The fatui agent standing next to him watches you, peeking over suitcase stacked on suitcase in his arms, almost too much to balance. It seemed like too much luggage for a two day trip, but Kunikuzushi was nothing if not luxurious.
You wonder, briefly, why the agent is staring at you so intensely, before you notice that Kunikuzushi is also glaring holes into you.
Ah, right. He's still holding the coat.
You take it from his hand and he extends an arm out to you, allowing you to slide the coat sleeve over his smooth skin. He sighs contentedly, and you repeat the process along his other arm, adjusting the shoulders of the coat neatly, all while he keeps his eyes trained on your face. You stand in front of him, meeting his stiff gaze, his deep indigo eyes betraying no warmth.
You turn your eyes downwards to the buttons of the coat, one by one, fixing them to each other. He has two perfectly good hands, you think, seeing as he can’t be bothered to carry his own belongings. But no, you must button his coat for him. Sometimes you felt more like another servant than a husband.
…Most times.
You wonder if he gets off on watching you do this, some kind of ridiculous power play, or if he truly believes he deserves to have his coat buttons done for him. Maybe both.
You return to his gaze as you finish. "Safe travels, my Lord," you say, attempting your most convincing 'i'll-miss-you' smile.
He looks satisfied enough, though he doesn't return your smile. He turns to leave, exiting through the door, his bodyguard-slash-bellboy following in tow. No wave or good-bye.
The click of the door sliding into its threshold resounds through the otherwise silent entrance hall, instantly, your shoulders slack and you sigh heavily. Finally, he was gone.
You scurry to your room to gather the materials for your plan. It would take you at least the rest of the night to get ready, and you only had two days, you couldn’t waste time.
The guard posted at your bedroom door shifts on his feet anxiously. If Kunikuzushi came home and found out you were gone, he would be punished whether he helped you or not. Lucky for you, he was just as sick of Kunikuzushi as you were, and with a little convincing, he agreed to help you get out of your personal hell.
Just a little more time and you’d both be running for the hills. You smile at him as you pass through your door, he looks away.
The door clicks shut behind you and you kneel beside your wardrobe, sticking your arm underneath the tiny gap between the dresser and the floor. You feel around…. And your hand touches cold plastic. You pull it out, trembling with excitement.
The bag contains some hastily sewn-together plain black clothes, a few hundred mora you’d stolen piece by piece over time, and a crude hand-drawn map. Not the most creative escape care package ever, but under Kunikuzushi’s watchful eye, it was hard to throw together even this much.
You shuffle into the clothes. The seams are uncomfortably thick from your hack job attempt at tailoring, and in some parts they feel like they’re about to burst. Well, they only needed to last tonight.
You study your map, tirelessly, until you can see it clearly with your eyes closed. The first place he’d expect you to go is the city, so you’ll go to the mountain. It’s big, with lots of little hiding places. After the storm is over, you’ll look for civilization- you aren’t native to Narukami Island, but you hear the mountain is home to a shrine. They’d have to help you.
The guards would probably realize you disappeared sometime early tomorrow, if not earlier. Which meant Kunikuzushi could be on your tail in under 24 hours, so you scribble a note on the nightstand to hopefully throw him off.
‘I’m sorry. I’m going home.’
There. Simple, and not too obvious, so he wouldn’t know it was a lie. Should be perfect.
With everything in place, you look out the window. Dim moonlight just barely shines through, and you know it’s time.
~
You slip the guard half of your measly savings. Was it a bribe for helping you, or was his salary so pathetic that he needed it as much as you did? You didn’t know, but it helped you feel a little less guilty for dragging him into your mess. Maybe he was some local hero in his hometown, and you were giving him a death sentence by invoking The Balladeer’s rage.
Or maybe he deserved it. Maybe all fatui are the same, and he was some war criminal, and when Kunikuzushi hunted him down for aiding you, he’d just be getting what was coming to him. It didn’t matter, because he distracted the front door guards just long enough for you to slip away into the dark, and you’d never see him again.
~
The moon sits high in the sky, casting faint shadows under your feet. The foot of the mountain is surrounded by a thick, lush forest. The forest itself almost gave off an unwelcoming aura, and the idea of going in made you nervous… but you were out of options, so you made your way into the dense woods, one step at a time.
The woods are much darker than the plains, the thick crown of the trees acting like an umbrella, blocking out the light of the moon. It's almost hard to see where you’re going. But it’s well hidden and quiet, so at least you can slow down a little.
It’s much past your bedtime, you think. That, and your lungs ache from running. The wet dirt squelches under your bare feet, and you tiredly wonder when you’ll find a safe place to rest. If you could just find somewhere dry…
Your eyelids droop slowly and you sigh heavily. Your feet come in contact with a soft patch of grass, and you aren’t picky enough to stop yourself from laying down. The search party wouldn't set out until dawn. You can be up before then. You close your eyes, just for a few hours…
~
“Helloo~~? Earth to Tree-hugger?"
You're abruptly shaken from your sleep by a squeaky voice, sitting up quickly and searching for the source.
Beams of sunlight stream through the trees around you, dawn has long passed. You overslept.
The voice that woke you came from a little floating imp-thing, who was waving her short arms in front of your face. Behind her stood a young man in dark clothes, sporting a long blond braid.
Well… They certainly didn't look like fatui scouts. But you still had to be cautious.
"What? Tree-hugger?" you ask, standing up. The little one looks about to reply, but you remember your circumstances before she can form the words. "Actually, nevermind. I need to get the hell out of here."
The man speaks next, "Wait. What are you doing sleeping on the grass outside?"
"Yeah! Most people at least pitch a tent first. Do you like the ground that much?" says the pixie.
It seemed like they didn't know who you were, but it could be a trap. Testing the waters, you answer: "I feel asleep while… avoiding someone. Trying to get to Narukami Shrine." You look around at the forest surrounding you… All the trees look the same. "Can you point me the way?"
The stranger smiles sympathetically, "If you're avoiding someone, do you want an escort? We're headed that way ourselves."
"Follow a stranger to a place I've never been? How do I know this isn't a trick?" you ask. The two glance at each other before the small one speaks.
"Haven't you heard of the Mighty Traveller? Tamer of dragons and slayer of gods?" she gloats, pointing to her companion.
You stare in confusion. "Who?"
"I'm Aether, this is Paimon," the blond, Aether, explains, "We thought everyone had heard of us by now." You can practically see the gears turn in his head while he tries to rationalize not being recognized. "You said you were running from someone. What happened?"
~
The duo convince you to travel with them as you explain your situation to them, deciding that if anyone could help you, it was these two oddballs.
Though it takes you a few minutes to well up the courage to be truthful, you manage to admit who exactly you're running from. Aether silently gives a shocked expression, while Paimon reacts very strongly, shouting a slew of insults about your husband that you couldn't help but agree with.
About halfway up the mountain, Aether tells you the shrine probably wouldn't be the safest place to hide from a Harbinger, as it wasn't exactly a private location. He talks about a safe house in Inazuma city, belonging to some of his associates. He tells you he could get you a private room, and you'd be safer there.
"The city is the first place he'll look," you argue.
"Maybe so, but the shrine is the second place." Aether sighs before continuing, "At least consider it. I'll keep an eye out on the city, and after it's clear of people searching for you, I'll escort you to the teahouse myself. Okay?"
Hesitantly, you agree.
~
The Guuji of the shrine, lady Yae, takes kindly to Aether's presence, promising to help you out on his behalf.
Aether explains the nature of your visit, and at the mention of Scaramouche's name, she frowns.
So far, everyone you've met has had a personal dislike for your husband. Maybe that was why he never let you socialize.
Aether puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Will you be okay?" he asks. You nod, he gives you a comforting squeeze. "I'll be back."
He and Paimon leave the shrine.
~
Lady Yae gives you new, clean clothes, since you no longer had use for your 'escape' outfit.
Since you can't pass as a shrine maiden, you have to stay inside the shrine until Aether comes back. Fine by you, you really need to be alone with your thoughts anyways.
The past 24 hours have been a blur. You ran away from the only home you've known in years successfully, slept in the woods, met an apparently famous adventurer, found out your husband was a war criminal (though you already had your suspicions about that one), and were now hiding out in a shrine. All in barely two days.
These experiences were so new to you. Of course, you had a life before Kunikuzushi picked you up, but it wasn't nearly as adventurous as this. You'd barely left Inazuma City before Kunikuzushi came along and wooed you with his gold and silks and bad boy mystique.
Not to mention, you'd been his sheltered househusband for so long, you sort of… forgot. How it felt to be free.
Though, you weren't quite free yet, your prison had just temporarily changed shape while you waited out Kunikuzushi's thunderstorm. Soon, though, you could go wherever…
No, even with the traveler's help, you'd be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life… if Kunikuzushi ever found you, he'd take you right back home.
Aether was so kind to try and shield you from him.
~
The rest of the day passes slowly, a shrine maiden bringing you modest meals every few hours, hearing no news from Lady Yae or Aether. Eventually, you curl up and fall sleep on the futon.
The next morning is equally uneventful. A few young maidens sit in the room with you and teach you to play a card game, though you aren't very good.
One shrine maiden even brings you a fortune slip.
…
Misfortune.
…
Well, it's just a silly slip.
~
Aether shows up in the evening.
The Balladeer has sent out 'undercover' agents all over Inazuma City, many of which have been chased out by guards. Small, scattered search parties have also been deployed across all of Narukami island. The agents are, apparently, under strict orders to not say what (or who) they are looking for.
"It's probably time to move you to the city. The search party could be here any time," Aether says. You're hesitant to accept.
Paimon's chipper voice tunes in, "Yae will just turn them away of course, but won't that just make the Balladeer more suspicious?" She makes a good point…
Aether looks into your unsure eyes, "I'll get you there safely. I promise, no one will get you."
The feeling of his steady hands on your shoulders comforts you. His hands are calloused and strong, like the hands of a hard worker, who has had to earn his livelihood. They are opposite to Kunikuzushi's smooth, dainty hands, like that of a doll. The hands of someone who has never had to lift a finger to get where he is. It's so strange how such soft hands were capable of causing so much harm…
You don't even notice you've spaced out until you hear Aether call your name.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
You snap out of your daze and reply, "Yeah. Okay, we can go."
Aether smiles. It's a warm smile that fills you with comfort, a a welcome contradiction to the cruel smile you'd grown so used to.
~
Inazuma city had changed much since you'd last seen it, though you'd barely gotten to see much at all as Aether quickly guided you through alleyways and discreet paths to keep you as far from prying eyes as possible.
The teahouse looked very quaint, so much so, you question the validity of Aether's promise of safety. He assures you, gently, that he and his friends will stop at nothing to keep Scaramouche and his goons out.
The room designated to you is comfortable, much more so than that of the shrine. You're grateful to be able to take respite in such a nice place, though you wonder how long this kindness will be extended to you. Aether wasn't your friend, you were just another stranger he was helping. He wouldn't protect you forever- something more important would come up eventually. Or maybe he'd get tired of it.
Despite this, Aether spent the majority of the day in your room with you, just sitting and talking- wasn't he supposed to be liberating the country or something?
You ask why you were worth all this trouble.
"Well, you really need it. Where would you be right now if I hadn't helped you?" he asks, rather smugly.
It was a good question though. You'd probably either be hiding in some dark crevice, or…
"Fair enough," you reply.
You, Aether, and Paimon enjoy each other's company for a while longer, until you feel compelled to go to the lobby to use the restroom.
Why a place like this would have one bathroom in the lobby instead of personal ones was a bit beyond you, but it's not like you could design a building any better.
It seemed the other guests had mostly left or gone to sleep, and the dog from the front desk was also absent. It was kind of… eerie. This place had been bustling with activity when you arrived. Seeing it so empty was sort of unnatural.
The hallway ends with you rounding the corner into the main room and coming face to face with two dark eyes you’d almost forgotten. Almost.
In an instant, Kunikuzushi grabs your arm in a vice grip, so tight you can feel the scratch of his blunt nails through the fabric of your sleeve. Words catch in your throat, but you can still feel the temptation to apologize and beg for forgiveness. You resist the urge.
“You think you can hide from me?” he spits, “I gave you more luxuries than your little brain could comprehend. And you thank me by running off with the outlander?” His eyebrows are cinched tightly in a fury you’ve never seen from him before. He was angrier than you think he’s ever been in his life- to be expected, you guess.
You’re unable to find the strength to talk back, just staring in abject horror. Upon seeing your hesitance to argue, he starts to pull you towards him. “We’re leaving,” he says. You keep your feet steady on the ground.
“Aether!” you scream, tugging your arm away from him, his grip loosening just enough for you to escape. A shuffling sound is heard at the end of the hallway.
You see a brief flash of what looks like worry in his eyes, but it quickly dissolves into the rage you knew too well. “This isn’t over,” he says, backing away, “You’re MY husband. Enjoy playing house with the street rat.”
He’s gone out the door just as Aether runs around the corner, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“What happened?” he asks. His voice is soothing, even though he probably doesn’t even intend it, and you relax under his touch. Paimon floats curiously beside him, and you turn to bury your head in Aether’s shoulder. Hesitantly, he puts his arms around you.
You would tell Aether what happened soon. He needed to know, of course, but right now you just needed this silence. Even Paimon was quiet.
i’m in class rn and i’m so horny istg, what about a yandere scaramouche smut with a breeding kink, who degrades and spits bchebxjsbej tysm again
title: walk in the woods (gone sexual) NSFT
summary: scaramouche/fem reader. you have an unfortunate run in with some traveling fatui.
warnings: expl!cit, dub/non con, degeneracy, degradation, power dynamics, violence, very submissive/weak reader
word count: 3.2k
a/n: despite getting laid constantly, smut is not my strong suit </3
Leaves crunch under your feet, the cold wind stings your dry nostrils.
The chill breeze wasn’t the best for exploring to most, but something about the bite in the air brought you comfort. You loved taking walks in the woods just before the sunset to bask in the autumn evening.
The air was crisp and dry, you didn’t mind. The only sounds to be heard are birds and the woosh of the wind.
You paused to watch a squirrel scurry up a tree, and though you were still, you heard the crunching of leaves. Too heavy to be a bird or squirrel, you followed the sound slowly, treading lightly, weaving behind trees to stay out of sight.
You hoped to see a deer, maybe a herd, but when you peeked out from behind the tree, you saw men. In a makeshift camp, maybe four. Dangerous looking men that you didn’t plan to tussle with. You didn’t know this was that kind of woods.
One of the men appears to be whittling a spoon or something, and if you couldn’t see the others, you’d figure they were just normal campers. But no, the others are armed head to toe in weaponry that looked state-of-the-art. One twirling a butterfly knife, another swinging at a punching bag fixed to a tree.
You take a step back, and in the most horribly cliche, poorly-timed moment, you step on a thick twig. The four men instantly turn their attention to you at the sound of the snap. You stand frozen in shock, and for a moment, they do too. You just stare at each other.
One of the men, the tallest one, is the first to move. He takes one step towards you and you book it in the opposite direction, not sticking around to find out if he’s friendly.
You run for a few seconds, as fast as you can, but you know it's not fast enough when a hand catches on your shirt and you trip to a sudden stop.
“My, what have we here?” one of the men says, voice grating to your ears. You roll onto your back as the man crouches by your feet. He reaches into his coat and you suspect you see the glint of a weapon.
“No!” you wail, kicking him square in the jaw. You scramble to your feet as he recovers from the kick, him and his friends getting into offensive positions. You had a small dagger for emergencies, but you knew you couldn’t hold them all off with it.
You had only a moment to come up with a plan, and boy was it a bad plan, but you didn’t have time to be picky. You kick the ground as hard as you can, flinging up a cloud of dirt and dry leaves, hopefully getting it in their eyes as well. In that brief moment that they were stunned, you bolted off, hopefully for good this time.
Perhaps they decided chasing you wasn’t worth it, because when you looked behind you, they were long gone, despite probably being faster than you. You doubted your sand trick did anything but irritate them, but as long as they were off your trail, you didn’t care. You had to get home and never come to these woods again.
You slow down to a walking pace. Your legs begin to burn as the adrenaline wears off, unused to that much exertion. You look around, and… don’t recognise what you see. You don’t exactly know the way out of this part of the woods, you realize, as you hadn’t been this far out before. Well, maybe because you had never been chased this far out.
If you just pick a direction and go straight, eventually the woods will end, right? You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar stumps or logs. Nothing. Looking around every direction except in front of you, you don’t notice the man standing ahead until you just about bump into him.
“Oh, excuse me,” you avert your eyes, attempting to go around him. He grabs your upper arm and you turn to face him, offended.
“Now hold on a minute,” he says. You take in his appearance, that of an extravagantly-dressed gentleman who appeared to be of nobility, and adjust your posture, standing up straight. He certainly didn’t look like a local. He continues, “You wouldn’t happen to have seen a young troublemaker around here, have you?”
“Uh- what, sir?” you stumble out the words anxiously. Something about his tone gave you the impression that his question wasn’t genuine.
“You know, someone who goes places they don’t belong. Kicks dirt at my soldiers. Someone like that?”
Oh no.
His eyes are narrowed unkindly, but he smiles upon seeing your frightened look.
“I don’t know anything about that, sir,” you say, keeping your voice as firm as possible. You suspect you must look like a deer caught in headlights right now, so you harden your expression and try to pull your arm out of his grip. He doesn’t relent, squeezing tighter, and leans in.
He speaks, barely above a whisper. “I think you do.”
Acting tough didn’t work. You knew it wouldn’t work, he was onto you from the very start. Your heart thumps so loud you think he might hear it.
He looks around, still holding you tight as your mind gets the better of you. He had a rather slim build, but those guys at the camp sure didn’t… and if he was their boss, he had to be really strong, right? Was he going to finish you off right here, and he’s checking for witnesses? Was he-
He seems to finish scouting the area and turns back to you, squeezing your arm to get your attention. Not that he needed to, as you were hyper tuned-in to his every move, but whatever.
“How well do you know these woods?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“People say I’m cruel, but I’m just trying to have a little fun. Always playing nice to make the Tsaritsa look good, stacks upon stacks of paperwork… It gets old. Can you blame me?”
He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, so you shake your head in response before he loses his patience. This seems to satisfy him enough. His warm fingers loosen, just slightly, and his grip doesn’t hurt anymore.
“Good. See, I knew we’d get along,” he mocks, snickering. “I’ll tell you what, I rarely get to enjoy myself these days, so we’re going to play. I’m going to let you go, and if you can outrun me for, say, ten minutes, I'll go easy on you. I’ll even give you a head start.” He releases your arm and you stumble back. “Go.” he says, turning around.
He doesn’t say how long the head start is for, nor what will happen when- no, if- he catches you. You wouldn’t go down easily to some crazy executive, or whatever he was. With that thought in mind, you run off. Your legs are still sore from the last time you had to run like this, maybe fifteen minutes ago- man, this has not been a good day for you- but now your heart is thumping with the fear that this time you are definitely being chased. You can’t shake this guy off like you did his goons.
He must’ve known you had never been out here before, it was probably how he was able to find you so quickly. So just running out of the woods wouldn’t quite work. You would have to hide. And you had no idea how long you had to find a spot.
Man. This was unfair.
Some of the trees are thick, some of them are twig-thin. Some of them even look climbable. You have no way of knowing what direction he’ll be coming from, though, so now matter how thick it is, standing behind a tree is just too risky, and something tells you this man has too keen of an eye to get away with it anyways.
You run for maybe a minute when you come up on a little stream with some bushes and a tipped log. It’s funny, the log creates a nearly perfect bridge across the stream. If you had been here any other day, you might have sat down here and basked in the sound of the running water. Today, though, you’re debating in your head if this spot is too obvious to hide in.
Maybe not as obvious as behind a tree, but in a sea of woods that look nearly identical, a place like this stands out like a sore thumb. He’s bound to investigate.
But do you have any better ideas? No. So you huff, and cross the log-bridge carefully, trying not to slip on the moss. It was hollow, you noticed, but that was definitely too easy. If you were on the other side of the creek, then you knew that he would have to cross the creek to reach you, and he could only come from that direction. That was one problem solved.
You pick a bush some five yards away from the log and push apart the branches. Oh, god, you think as you squeeze your figure through the brush, this is disgusting. You close up the opening in the leaves with some foliage and squish your body in as tightly as you can.
Though it’s far from comfortable, you’re technically sitting down for the first time in at least an hour. Your stomach churns painfully, maybe this is why they say not to eat before you exercise.
You need a plan, you realize. He’d come here eventually. What then, what after?
You were sure he wouldn’t be able to see you, so unless he was turning every rock and parting every bush, he probably wouldn’t find you. So you’d stay put until he passed through the area, wait a few minutes until the coast was absolutely clear, and then you’d get up and run. Yes, that would work.
The brush tickles your skin, and you wish so terribly to scratch it, but you need to be absolutely still. Just in case. You endure.
Your shallow, sharp breaths eventually return to a normal depth, and the terrible burn in your lungs recedes. You breathe deeply, slowly, quietly, and wait.
Thunder rumbles far off in the distance. If you could see the sky, it would be partly cloudy, you wager. It might start raining in an hour or so. You hoped you’d be home by then, but for now you can only wait.
Crunch
Crunch
Leaves crinkle just past the stream, the sound of two feet coming distinctly this way. You try to slow the beating in your chest with deep breaths. Had it been ten minutes? Probably not, but sitting here, alone, in the cold, every second felt like hours.
There’s a few seconds of silence, and you hope to every higher power that he’s about to turn around. But you hear the creaking of wood and the hope crumbles into dust under his feet.
Maybe it’s just a hiker. He draws closer, your heart throbs painfully, and he stops right next to the bush.
There’s no way he can see you. You can’t see him through the leaves, so how would-
A hand shoots through the bramble and latches tightly onto your arm, yanking you out. The rough branches scratch and prick your skin.
“You did it! You hid for ten whole minutes. Aren’t you proud?” the man mocks, indigo eyes shining smugly.
You did?
You open your mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a whine. He snickers, tugging your arm towards him. You try to step away from him on your unsteady feet, stepping on a loose rock, and your wobbly legs stumble and give out.
You fall backwards, yanking your arm away from him, allowing yourself to land right into the stream. Sharp rocks poke your hands as the running water soaks through your clothes.
He cackles, “Wow! You look like a kicked puppy.”
You stand weakly, and take a tentative step away from him, but he quickly takes you by the wrist and pulls you back into the woods, cornering you against a tree.
“But… you said-”
He interrupts, “That I’d go easy on you?” a laugh, “I am. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
He leans in, uncomfortably close, intimately close, “What I could do, out here, alone in the woods…” He says into your ear, barely above a whisper. You blink back tears.
He pulls away, voice returning to normal, “You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood today.”
“Do you know who I am?” He asks. One of the hands that had been caging you against the tree retracted, and slid down to caress the back of your thigh. You shake your head, staring at him with wide eyes. He hooks his hand under your leg and lifts it up to his waist. You are too sore, too frightened, to put up a fight. “Scaramouche, of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers,” he announces arrogantly, eyes seeming to light up at his own name, “Few haven’t heard of me. You must be very sheltered, or just stupid.”
He pushes you tightly against the tree with his hips, lifting your other leg up to his waist as well, holding you completely up off the ground. You push your arms at his shoulders, hoping he will put you down, but he just grinds you harder into the tree.
“You’ve done nothing but run and hide all day. Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to give in?” His voice is a soft coo, but there’s a cruel bite to it as well. He was taunting you. You knew this, and yet, the sharp bark of the tree scratches you through your top and your legs throb with ache. It was too much, you couldn’t fight anymore. After this was all over, you could go home and draw a hot bath.
He smiles when he sees the last spark of resistance leave your eyes. “Well?”
“Yes…” you muster.
His wandering hands find their way under your skirt, lifting it past your thighs. “Easy access,” he teases.
Your legs are wrapped tightly around him, fearful of being dropped. One of his hands works at the belt around his shorts, and while you are focused on that, you don’t notice the fingers of his other hand prod at your lips, shoving into your mouth and pressing on your tongue.
Instinctively, you lick his fingers, and his eyes fog over sickeningly with lust. He retracts his wet fingers from your mouth and you flush from embarrassment, tearing your eyes away from his predatory gaze. He slips his hand between your bodies and into your underwear, eyeing you intently, soaking in as much of your shame as possible. You shiver as his fingers make contact with your slit, his fingers spreading your saliva and brushing against your clit teasingly.
When he’s decided you’re sufficiently lubed, he removes his hand and frees his erection from his pants. You try not to look, turning your head away from him to look at the setting sun, but the closeness of your bodies makes it hard not to feel. Though the angle is a bit awkward, he manages to slip past your underwear and push his dick into your entrance.
You can’t help but take in a thick gasp at his size, the protrusion snapping your gaze right back to his. He takes a second to slowly bottom out, and you feel his every inch stretching you. His hands are back under your legs, thin fingers squeezing the flesh of your ass, and he sighs blissfully when he’s fully sheathed in your heat.
He pulls his cock halfway out and thrusts back in harshly, and though the movement is rough, an unwanted moan is ripped from your throat. It surprises even you, but the friction of his hips makes your head spin with bliss.
“Fuck- you were so easy,” he mocks between his own moans as he settles into a rhythm, “I should… take you home to the whorehouse.”
You whine in a feeble protest, his hips fucking you into the tree, scraping your back harder against the bark with each thrust. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, fingers clawing tightly at his sleeves as you try to get a grip on the pleasure.
One of his hands leaves your ass and finds its way into your panties once again, two nimble fingers deftly finding your clit and rubbing circles into it, sending sweet bliss into your brain. You bite into the fabric on his shoulder in an attempt to muffle the wanton moans that escape you.
It doesn’t really work.
“Be quiet- huff- you want someone to find you that bad? Whore.” Scaramouche’s breathing is heavy with lust, but he still finds the air to ridicule you.
He’s right, though, his touch shouldn’t send you over like this, especially since you were trying so hard to avoid him mere minutes ago. And yet, white-hot ecstasy pools in your gut, clouding your mind, and making it so hard to think any rational thought.
He leans his head down into the crook of your neck, biting hard at the exposed skin. He sucks at the flesh of your neck like he needs it to live, his sharp teeth leaving deep marks that would be impossible to cover- and for some reason, that thought- along with the smooth rocking of his hips- sends you over the edge and you release a lustful cry into his shoulder, thighs tightening even harder around his waist.
It spurs him on and his pace increases, pulling his hand from between your legs and pushing your face off of his shoulder. He grips your flushed cheeks tightly between his thumb and forefingers, holding intense eye contact with you. His eyes are unreadable beyond hunger.
He stares at you silently for a few seconds, then his lips contort and you feel his hot, wet spit settle onto the center of your face, sliding down your cheeks.
At the same time, he cums inside, his hips twitching slightly as he finishes fucking into you.
He pulls out, dropping you, and you collapse onto the ground.
Common sense finds its way back into your brain and you smooth out your skirt.
He stares down at you while he fixes his belt, and you are quite a sight to behold, catching your breath, clothes rumpled, covered in a myriad of fluids- mostly his, which he was quite proud of- and struggling to wrap your head around what had just come over you. You looked truly pathetic, all because of him. How cute.
You look up at him, still spit-and-cum-covered, and he can’t help but smile.
“Aw, don’t look so down. You’ll see me again soon.” he says, smugly. He turns around and starts walking the direction he came, leaving you to sit on the leafy ground with your thoughts.
A cold raindrop makes it through the treetops and lands on your skin. The storm had started.
Can I get yandere yae with male reader? Anyway here the situation.
Yae is about to confessed her love for reader but than a kid come and hug him while saying "papa! There you are! Mama is searching for you you know!" And then the 'mother' come and turn out, it's lumine!? I just want to see yae getting angry cuz ain't no way she can defeat lumine lol. I just want to see her getting angry while reader and his family is having fun
title: family man
summary: yandere yae/male reader/lumine, yae pov
word count: 1k
warnings: yandere, yae is subjected to so much pda
a/n: this is probably so ooc i know next to nothing about yae
The tap tap of Yae’s knuckles resounded on the door to your home.
It creaked open slightly, and a handsome face popped out, cautious eyes flashing with recognition upon seeing the unexpected guest.
“Lady Yae? What are you doing here?” You asked, opening the door enough to slide out and join Yae on the porch.
“Oh, please, there’s no need for that,” she waves her hand, “We see each other at the shrine often enough, don’t we? Call me Miko.”
You laugh slightly, “Well, I suppose we do, but what’s so important that you came all the way out here?”
“Am I not allowed to visit my friend at his house? Come outside and chat with me,” Yae says, stepping into the yard and sitting on an outdoor swing for two. She pats the empty seat beside her, and you reluctantly join her.
“Lady Miko, I sent the finance reports up to the shrine yesterday, was there a problem with the budget?”
Yae frowns at the continued formality you address her with, but doesn’t push it. “I told you, silly, I’m not here to talk about work. It’s your day off, of course.”
“Well, most people don’t expect their boss to show up unannounced on their day off,” you joke. “I figured you were going to guilt me into picking up an extra shift again.”
She chuckles, “Is that really how you see me?” She surveys the property you called home. Though Yae found many ways to bump into you in public, she had never been to your house before, and it was quite a large one, even for someone living on your salary. Though you received a generous pay, perhaps more generous than any of the other managers at the publishing house, it wasn’t so lavish as to afford such a private cottage.
“Quite a large abode for someone living alone,” she remarks. You scrunch up your brows in confusion, giving her a strange look.
You open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off. “Are you in need of some company? I bet it gets so cold at night,” her voice lowers for the second sentence, taking on a teasing tone.
“Lady Miko, I don’t live alone.” you say.
Just as she prepares to question you, the door swings open, and a small child- no older than eight- sprints down the porch steps and into your arms.
“Papa! Dinner’s almost ready, you have to come inside!” she shouts, tugging on your arm. She turns her head to Yae, making a shocked face at the stranger. “Hi, lady!” she smiles, before going back to heckling you.
“What a sweet thing,” Yae says, playing off the interruption, “I didn’t know you were a family man.”
“Sorry, Lady Miko. We’ll talk tomorrow.” You get up from the swing and allow your daughter to pull you towards the entrance to your home.
Yae stands with you and follows you up to the porch, preparing to negotiate a longer stay, but another figure appears in the doorway. The little girl lets go of you to run into the arms of the figure, who Yae now recognizes to be the traveler.
“What’s taking so long?” Lumine says, and Yae lets out a humorless laugh to cover her surprise.
“Lumine, I didn’t know you were back in Inazuma. It’s been a while,” she says. Her tone is polite, holding back her irritation.
“Miko, it’s you! This is a nice surprise, would you like to join us for dinner?” Lumine’s smile is bright, just like the rest of her, and holds no traces of ill will. Yae agrees with masked reluctance.
~
Delicious-looking matsutake meat rolls were passed around to the table for the three of you, while the child enjoyed a small tub of applesauce.
“Looks delicious, babe,” you beamed.
“Thanks, it’s a recipe I picked up in Liyue,” Lumine bragged, though you didn’t mind, grinning to your wife before indulging in a bite.
“So, Lumine, you settled down quite young. What happened?” Yae asked, attempting to gauge the situation.
“I don’t really know,” she started, “One day you’re fighting dragons and slaying gods, and the next…” she stops talking to ogle you with lovestruck eyes. Sickeningly, you returned the gaze.
Yae chuckled at the display, as though she weren’t fuming in her seat. “Give it a rest, lovebirds,” she says, tone joking, though she is fully serious. “Sumeru didn’t work out?” If Lumine has given up on finding her twin, her hopes of seducing you were just about trashed. She wouldn’t let go so easily.
Your wide eyes get solemn, as do Lumine’s. “It’s a sensitive subject.” You say. Lumine just nods silently.
The child throws the applesauce cup across the table, catching everyone’s attention. “Papa,” she whines, “Done eating. When can we play?”
You turn to Yae. “I’m really sorry, Lady Miko, but it’s getting late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” you say, standing up to escort her out.
Lumine stands as well. “Thank you for visiting, Miko,” she says, warmly. If Yae had been just a little bit dumber, she’d believe that Lumine truly considered her a friend, but if that had been the case, why had she gone several years in Inazuma without stopping for a single visit? With a husband who worked at her publishing house, no less. It was almost as if she had wanted to catch her off guard like this.
Yae gives her polite farewells and makes her way down the path to the shrine, evaluating her next course of action.
No, Yae was absolutely hopeless to drive Lumine away through any sort of combat, even with Ei’s help, not that she wanted to fight Lumine anyways. And based on the way you looked at her, she already had you wrapped tightly around her finger as well, stealing you away from her seemed basically out of the question as well.
Yae was baffled as to how you’d had a wife and child all these years, and she was somehow none the wiser. Perhaps the signs had always been there, but she was too caught up looking through rose colored lenses to notice.
Well, if Lumine had given up on finding her brother, perhaps Yae would just have to do it for her.
Idk if you still active but I wish you well. Anyway can I get yandere scaramouche nfsw with male reader? I don't know if you willing to write about it but I try. Ofc! Please do say if you don't want to do it. Like say "no" cuz if you don't I will be waiting for like my whole life. Hehe~! Ah umm about the scenario.
Male reader accidently said someone else's name while being with scara and jealous scara decide to mark him. Aggressive s3x/jealous ? Idk you do you~
title: Yours Alone (nsft)
summary: jealous scaramouche/male reader. also fatui agent/reader lmao
word count: 3.1k
warnings: expl!cit, dubious consent, n0ncon, yandere, abuse, character death, cheating, awkward dialogue and s3xual language, swearing, blood, branding + electrocution, scaramouche is barely present in half of it
a/n: calling scara kunikuzishi feels wrong but i just can't imagine his partner calling him by his job title in private lol.
Even househusbands get lonely.
Kunikuzushi was a busy man, so it made sense that you would be without him for many hours of your days. And yet, he nearly bent over backwards trying to keep you as far away as possible from any potential company. Always just him and your personal servant, who was more like a brick wall with legs than a conversation partner.
Alone, in the dining hall, you sat. Kunikuzushi was in a meeting, and the tea you had prepared for him was getting cold. He had promised he’d finish up in time to drink with you, and yet here he wasn’t. You close your eyes and inhale the aroma of your tea. Just because he was wasting his didn’t mean you had to. You sigh.
“Pardon me…” a male voice speaks up. You open your eyes to see the one interrupting you, one of Kunikuzushi’s many lackeys he keeps around the house.
“Ah… Aleksei,” you say, “Do you need something?”
“No, my lord. Do you?” he asks, in a nearly accusing manner.
“Excuse me?” you say, incredulously, setting down your tea to focus on him. He most assuredly wasn’t allowed to speak to you that way, even if it was technically harmless.
“Sorry, sir. It’s just that I hate to see you sitting alone at a table for two. You look like you’re in need of company,” he smiles.
“No, I’m alright. I’m sure he’ll be along shortly.” A lie. He’s probably already forgotten.
“I'm afraid I have to insist.” Aleksei sits in the empty chair across from you.
You chuckle lightly, “Lord Scaramouche would have your head for this, you know.” You rest your head in your hand and smile. Even if he was a bit bold, he was right. You were in need of company.
“Well, he should have thought about that before he left his poor husband all alone.” He sips from (what should have been) Kunikuzushi’s lukewarm teacup. You would have to do something about that later, you note.
Aleksei tells you a few stories about his travels in other countries on deployment. He says being a bodyguard, especially for someone so feared, is certainly easy, but he prefers the adventure of field work. He had been to Liyue, Fontaine, even Natlan, but Mondstadt interested you the most. No archon? Freedom? It sounded enticing.
Both of your cups had long emptied, and you were just enjoying the conversation. You could hardly remember the last time you had told a story that hadn’t been met with ‘hm, yes,’ and brushed off. Time passes in what feels like a snap of the fingers.
Somewhere down the hall, a door opens. Perhaps indistinguishable from any other door, but hypersensitivity to this kind of thing has been conditioned into you the hard way.
You usher Aleksei away and remove the cups from the table. Kunikuzushi appears in the room swiftly.
"My lord, the tea got cold, so I dumped it. I was just about to go pour us more," you lie.
"My meeting ran longer than I expected," he says, his voice portraying no signs of being apologetic, "Go ahead."
You leave the room to pour fresh tea.
~
Night blankets the sky, and Kunikuzushi is sound asleep. You slide out of bed discreetly, careful not to wake your sleeping husband.
You make your way to the main living room. Most of the servants are asleep, but Aleksei sits on the floor by the fireplace, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hands. You smile and quickly sit next to him and start talking.
“So, what’s Lord Scaramouche like as a boss?” you ask.
Aleksei hums in thought. “Cold. Strict. Very demanding.” Ah, so not much unlike how he was as a spouse. “One of the most disliked harbingers, even amongst his own employees,” he says, suddenly giving you a nervous look, “I totally disagree though! He’s definitely very awesome. Love the guy. Don’t tell him what I said.”
You laugh. “Have you worked with other harbingers?” you ask. He nods as he sips his drink. You lean in, despite there being no one around who can hear you, and whisper. “Who’s your favorite?”
“Depends. If I don’t say Lord Scaramouche, will you sick him on me?” You share another laugh, he continues. “Probably Tartaglia. He gives us the most freedom when deployed, a lot less stuck up than some of the others.”
“Wow,” you say, “You’ve done so many things… I wish I had half the stories you did.”
He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Someday you will.”
You stay up late into the night just chatting by the fireplace, laughing, whispering, basking in the warmth of the fire and each other. Talking with Aleksei makes you feel heard, in a way you haven’t felt since Kunikuzushi first courted you. You wish this moment could last forever. But before long, the fire is reduced to embers, and you sneak back into your own bedroom and into your unsuspecting husband’s sleeping arms. As Kunikuzushi’s warmth seeps into you, you just hope he won’t question why you’re so tired tomorrow. You drift off to sleep.
You dream of Aleksei.
~
Kunikuzushi is away on a short trip.
It takes a few days of careful planning, passing whispers in the hall, schedule-swapping, and sneaky meetings, but soon enough you and Aleksei have planned to rendezvous in the privacy of your bedroom, without the risk of being caught by Kunikuzushi.
The day comes and he’s successfully snuck into your room without being spotted by a single servant. Your heart thumps in your chest as you sit on the bed with him.
“Aleksei…” you start, but anxiety overtakes your thoughts, “This is too dangerous. You should probably go before someone finds-”
Aleksei cuts you off. “That’s a risk I'm willing to take,” he says, putting a hand on your leg.
You smile, glad he was taking initiative, thankful that he had a stronger resolve than you. You put one of your hands on his muscular shoulder and squeeze. He slides a free hand under your shirt, feeling your throbbing heartbeat through your chest.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“No… but I want to anyways,” you whisper.
He leans in, and you close your eyes…
Footsteps rapidly approach your door. “My lord!” you hear the sound of your personal servant’s voice. Damn. And you had done such a good job avoiding him, too.
You quickly push Aleksei behind the nearest wardrobe and try to act as natural as possible, just in time for your door to swing open.
“My lord,” your servant says, “Lord Scaramouche has arrived home early. He’ll be up soon, you should prepare.” he says
“Fine. Knock next time!” you shout, and the servant scurries away.
You wait a few seconds, straining your ears to hear footsteps. When they finally fade out, Aleksei comes out of hiding, and you waste no time pushing him to the door.
“You have to go right now. I’m sorry,” you say.
He nods sorrowfully and walks out the doorway, gone in an instant.
~
Your husband appears in that same doorway within minutes. You put on your best loving smile and greet him, “Welcome home, Kunikuzushi. Back early?”
He sheds his outermost layer, exposing his shoulders. “Yes. Plan got butchered by some fucking outlander. It was months in the making, you know-” His voice is nearly a shout before he cuts himself off with a sharp sigh. “But I’m home now. I’m tense, won’t you help me relax?”
You come up behind him and massage his shoulders. You feel him relax instantly under your hands, coming undone by your touch. After a moment, he turns to face you.
He takes one of your hands in his own. “We should do something together. To celebrate my early return.”
Your heart throbs in your chest yet again, though now more stress than excitement. He pushes you slowly, gently, to the bed, until the backs of your legs are pressed against it. He undoes the belt of your ornate house robe and slides it over your shoulders, gravity pulling it down your arms. It pools at your feet and you’re left exposed, while he remains almost fully dressed in public formalwear.
He leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “Undress me?” he says, barely above a whisper.
You oblige, with shaky hands, sliding his clothes off just as he had done to you. His eyes are trained on your face, and you avoid eye contact, but you know his expression is lustful.
Once he’s decided you’ve sufficiently disrobed him, he pushes you back, and you fall onto the bed. He wastes no time getting on you, straddling your hips, leaning down into the crook of your neck. He drags his lips across your collarbone.
He’s being surprisingly soft. You’d have thought he’d be in a much less gentle mood, given the circumstances of his early return. The last time he came home from a botched mission… Your back hurts just thinking about it.
He snakes a hand underneath the back of your thigh, lifting it around his waist, and grinding his hips against your own. A breathy moan escapes you, and Kunikuzushi grins. “Can you feel how much I’ve missed you?” he asks.
He strokes your face with his free hand, his knuckles gliding over your cheeks. You relax your slightly clenched jaw at the gentle caress and he quickly takes advantage by plunging two fingers past your lips and into your mouth. You suck on his fingers while he watches intently, and when he is satisfied he retracts his wet hand and slides it between your bodies, lubing his dick with your spit.
This part was always the hardest. You close your eyes tightly and try to relax…
“Aleksei…”
Kunikuzushi’s body is stiff in an instant. Your eyes snap open and meet with his bewildered face.
“Who?”
His voice is coated thickly in rage and he glares at you, and you can only gape back at him with regret and fear. You watch his eyes swirl with emotion; confusion, anger, jealousy, and finally recognition as he connects the name with a face.
“The fucking lackey?”
He jumps off of you and redresses as fast as he can, not caring about his dishevelment. He marches to the door.
“Kuni, wait-!” The door slams loudly behind him before you can even finish calling out. You get out of bed and dress yourself haphazardly as well. You run out the door after him, but he’s already disappeared down the hallway.
If you searched for him, would that anger him more? Did he want you to wait in the bedroom? You couldn’t just sit idly by, and maybe if you hurried you could stop him from hurting Aleksei… or maybe your meddling would put him in more danger?
Fuck. He was in such a good mood, and you ruined it.
You head off in the direction you assumed he must have headed, but your personal attendant appears around a corner and catches you by surprise.
“My lord! I am to escort you to-” he starts.
“Where is Lord Scaramouche?” you interrupt hastily. Your servant looks deeply offended, but responds anyway.
“Well, if you’d let me finish, I was about to take you to him.”
Well, that couldn’t be good. If Kunikuzushi had sent for you to be taken somewhere, then something bad surely awaited you there…
Your servant takes you by the arm and begins dragging you off before you can say anything. He leads you to the cellar, the mere sight of that awful door making dread settle in your gut. He opens the door and pushes you inside, shutting and locking the door behind you, trapping you.
With no other choice, you descend further into the basement. You don’t bother calling out, the door was thoroughly soundproofed. You had been here before, a few times, always for a bad reason. It was dark, cold, and reserved only for things that involved screaming.
Aleksei is seated at a dimly lit table. Kunikuzushi stands nearby, arms crossed.
“Fetched him from the servants’ quarters just now,” he says.
Aleksei is bound to the chair, but not hurt, thankfully. Just scared out of his mind.
“Are you going to hurt him?” you ask.
“Hurt the man who seduced my husband? No, of course not, don’t be silly,” he remarks. His sarcastic voice turns smug as he continues, “You are.”
Your breathing becomes heavy. “No. I won’t,” you try. “You can’t make me!”
He rolls his eyes and turns away from you, “It’s a shame, Aleksei. You were one of our best. I think a promotion was in your future,” he mocks, drawing a knife from his pocket.
He grabs your hand, forcing the handle of the knife into your fingers. He holds his hand tightly over yours and guides it over to Aleksei, who gives you a pleading look. You struggle with all your might, but your strength pales in comparison to your husband’s. You stare at Aleksei, who is blurry from the tears, and open your mouth to apologize, but before you can get the words out, the blade in your hand has plunged into his chest.
Kunikuzushi releases your hand and you let go of the knife. Aleksei is still breathing, and you go to reach out to him, but Kunikuzushi takes you by the wrist and pulls you away from him.
“Now to deal with you,” he says, his vice grip squeezing the fight out of you. He drags you out of the cellar.
~
Kunikuzushi shoves you into the bedroom. “I clothe you, feed you, provide you with more than anyone could ask for. Is that not enough for you?” he shouts.
“No, I-” you try to protest, but he snatches your wrist up again and shakes your hand in your face.
“Is this ring not enough to prove you’re mine? Do you need more?” It’s phrased like a question, but you know it's a threat. You try to reply, earn some kind of mercy, but words catch in your throat and you just stare. Kunikuzushi glares back. “Fine then.”
He turns you to face the bed and bends you over it, hand pressed against your back to hold you down. Your clothes slide off of you and the cold air makes goosebumps rise on your skin.
He leans down, chest pressing against your back, and bites harshly into your shoulder, unnaturally sharp canines piercing your skin. Hot blood leaks from the bite, but he doesn’t stop, biting you again, closer to your neck. He licks the wound, and his pale lips are stained a sickening red. He wipes some up on his finger and forces it into your mouth, tasting your own blood. You briefly entertain the idea of biting him, but instead lick his finger obediently. He hums in satisfaction.
He reaches around your abdomen and wraps his lithe fingers around your half-hard length, squeezing it lightly and pumping his hand up and down. The sensation makes you moan, against your better judgment, though much to Kunikuzushi’s delight.
“Could he make you feel this way?” he asks, and you huff, jerking your body in a rather meek display of rebellion, which only manages to grind your ass against his cock.
“Eager to make it up to me? Well, it’ll take more than that,” he says, using his free hand to line himself up between your legs. He bucks his hips into your legs, fucking your thighs, his erection rubbing against your own from behind. The dual sensation of his hand and his dick at the same time make your brain fog up with arousal. Your breathy moans drown out your heartbreak, you let yourself get lost in his touch for just a moment… and then he pulls away, leaving you breathless. You try to stand up straight, but Kunikuzushi whips you around to face him and pushes you right back down onto the bed. He’s on top of you again, situated between your legs, like he had been earlier that day, but his gentle touch has turned possessive and punishing.
“I’ll remind you as many times as it takes,” he ghosts his lips across your jawline, “No one else gets to touch you like this.”
His hand travels south between your bodies and takes hold of your length once more, working his palm up and down, up and down, squeezing just tightly enough.
You whine under his touch and settle your hands upon his shoulders and look into his eyes. He looks down at you with a mixture of affectionate lust and vengeful jealousy, though his hand certainly didn’t feel jealous as it pumped your cock rhythmically.
A wanton moan escapes you as you lose your senses beneath him, though you feel it spur him on all the more. You feel blood rushing to your cheeks as your face gets hot with arousal.
“Tell me. Whose are you?”
“Yours,” you whimper, hoping to please him, but the pace of his hand slows down and you sigh needily.
“Say it. Whose?”
“Kunikuzushi’s,” you cry in a whiny moan. This seems to satisfy him enough, and his movements speed back up, nimble fingers pressing and pulling you closer to completion.
He dips his head into the crook of your shoulder and rolls his tongue against the curve of your neck. It should feel disgusting, but in your clouded judgment, it’s just enough to push you over the edge, hot liquid spilling onto your stomach and his hand.
He sits up, examining his stained hand while you recover, struggling to catch your breath. He smiles and holds his hand out in front of you, as if showing off his handiwork. “Look what you did,” he teases.
You prop yourself up by your elbows, panting, waiting for him to move away so you can clean up.
He doesn’t get off, rather, puts his clean hand against your chest, laying you back down.
“Sometimes we forget things, my prince. I’ll forgive you this time,” he says, his voice deceptively loving, “But I won't let you forget again.”
His palm against your chest seems to crackle to life, shocking pain lighting up your senses and burning through your skin. You scream out to deaf ears.
It only lasts a few seconds, but the searing pain feels like an eternity. When he retracts his hand, a purple mark resembling the electro emblem he wears in his uniform is branded onto your chest. It glistens and glitters between your collarbones like a pendant.
You got a little more drunk than you should have, you’ll admit. Maybe it wasn’t super wise to drink so much wine while no less than 15 feet from the very figure that haunts your night terrors, but the panic of seeing him so soon, or frankly ever, clouded your judgment. The alcohol doesn’t help like you expect it to, though, and within minutes you’re even more hyper-aware of his presence.
You ask, no, practically beg your friends to walk you home after a few drinks. They assume it’s because you’re too wasted to get yourself home, and you let them, if only because it’s easier than explaining the truth. Not that they’d believe you anyways.
They escort you to your doorstep, tucked in one of the many alleyways of residential Mondstadt. You wave them goodbye as you fish your keyring from your pocket, they turn a corner, and just like that, you’re alone in the night. You shiver at the evening chill. Or maybe it's from the anxiety? Maybe both.
An unusually strong gust of wind knocks your keys from your unsteady hands. You curse under your breath, but before you can lean down to retrieve them, you hear approaching footsteps and freeze up. You think you’re just being paranoid at first, you weren’t the only person in the city, after all.
Of course, you aren’t that lucky.
Around from a corner appears exactly what you had feared, the bard from Angel’s Share- Venti, he had called himself, though you knew him to be Barbatos. His fluttering angelic wings are long discarded, replaced with a flowing green cape, and his saintly white robes have been exchanged for ‘fashionable’ streetwear, but you know it’s him. His expression is friendly, kind even, and he smiles pleasantly at you. Like everything is fine. To him, maybe everything was fine. To you, this was a nightmare sprung to life.
You snatch your keys up from the ground, pocket them, and snap your body into a defensive position. There was no way you could unlock your door fast enough, and if you ran he surely would catch you, but maybe your friends weren’t too far away-
“A beautiful night, isn’t it?” Venti asked, tilting his head curiously. You can tell he is intoxicated as well, from the slight flush in his cheeks, though he seems to hold his liquor much better than yourself.
You open your mouth, as if to reply, but you find no words to say. You take a step backwards, preparing to make a break for it.
He quickly steps forward, mirroring your movements. “Hey- I just wanna talk,” he says, cautiously, like he was cooing a cornered animal. Maybe that’s what you look like right now.
“I don’t want– to talk to you,” you say. Air is heavy in your lungs, and you have difficulty getting the words out.
He pouts for a second, as if hurt by your completely reasonable statement, but switches back to a cheeky smile. “Aww, come on, don’t be like that,” he starts, his voice is playful, starkly contrasting to the thick tension hanging in the air. He takes another step towards you.
You don’t wait for him to close the distance any further and bolt in the other direction. You think you have a head start; you open your mouth to scream the names of your friends-
A hot, clammy hand slams over your mouth and your body is forced to an instant stop. You whine into the hand as an arm slides around your waist to steady you from falling. Venti pulls you as close to him as he can, squeezing your back tight against his chest. He leans in, nuzzling gently against your hair, and takes a deep breath. You shiver in disgust. He exhales through his mouth, blowing hot, damp air against your neck. Tears well up in your eyes.
“You smell even sweeter than I remember,” he hums. You sob harder into his hand, and his thumb strokes your cheek in a pathetic attempt at a comforting gesture.
His arm around your waist shifts, sliding down, down, towards your hips. At a tantalizingly slow pace, he glides his nimble fingers over your stomach, over your hip, and finally down to your outer thigh. He pulls your keys from your pocket and jingles them in front of your eyes.
“Let’s go inside,” he coos, stepping back towards your home and pulling you with him, “We’ll just talk, I promise.”
A retort forms on your tongue, but the hand over your mouth forces you to hold it in.
He unlocks the door and pulls you inside, releasing you from his grasp. You put distance between you as quickly as possible, standing in the middle of the room. You were stuck with him now. This was it. He was going to finish what he started.
“Why me?” you ask.
He hums thoughtfully. “I told you. You were made for me, I know it,” he says, “You’ll see it soon.”
You scoff at him in disgust. “No. I hate you.” It's hard for you to say something so horribly sacrilegious, but the look of hurt that flashes over his face makes it almost worth it.
“You didn’t hate me so terribly when you were falling asleep in my lap,” he responds with a small laugh.
Your heart races. Was it due to fury? Fear? “What was I supposed to do? I… I…” You trail off as painful memories surge through you. He pouts sympathetically.
“I understand I was a bit… forward when we were last together,” he says.
Your anxious gaze turns hateful and you glare at him, “Forward? You-!”
He cuts you off, “But I want to make it right. I’ve been thinking about you, you know.” he steps forward. “I’ve lived a very long time. I’ve lost a lot of people.” Another step. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.” He’s in front of you now, but something cements your feet to the floor.
“Stop… don’t-” you start.
“I won’t hurt you, my darling. I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. He smiles, and his expression is pure contentment. It's almost romantic. His arms wrap around you, breathing in your scent yet again. “I won’t let you go this time.”
How could you resist? He was a god, and you were a mortal.
The teapot rattled in your hands despite your best efforts to hold it steady. Scaramouche had guests today, for the first time since you moved in. As you thought, you were expected to serve them, and while pouring a cup was something you had done many times, the fear of what would happen if you messed up made your heart race with anxiety. You poured the tea in your husband's cup first, slowly, filling it up just the right amount. You looked at him, perhaps for validation that you were doing it right, but you instead met his unforgiving gaze. His stare pierced through your mind and made his message crystal clear: This is what I married you for. Don’t make me regret it.
You turned your gaze to his guest’s cup and began filling it as well. They were discussing some sort of loan scheme, it seemed. Scaramouche rarely indulged you in his work, and you rarely cared enough to ask. You knew little more about his occupation than when he first arrived in your hometown. You found out, eventually, that his exact job title was Harbinger. You almost learned what kind of work that entailed, but the first sentence you heard from the servant who told you was enough to make you nauseous. You decided blissful ignorance would be better. When the cup had been appropriately filled, you gently set down the teapot, bowed, and exited the room.
Outside the threshold of the door, you lean against the wall and sigh in relief. You had to stay close, in case you were called back in, but at least you could have a reprieve from Scaramouche’s scrutinizing gaze. He only really looked at you like that when you had crossed him, did you need to be worried? No, you hadn’t done anything out of turn. Right?
Your handmaid turns the corner holding a small cup of water. You hadn’t asked for it, but you certainly needed it. She seemed to know things like that, and you were grateful for her presence most of the time. You, of course, refrained from any commentary about Scaramouche, because she would surely report any heresy, but you still appreciated having at least one unjudging ear in the house to talk to.
The house was immense, more rooms than you can count on both hands, some you’d never even been in. At some parts of the day, the manor was bustling with activity, and yet you felt as alone as ever. Sure, you had Scaramouche, your darling husband, but he wasn’t so much company as he was an ever-looming threat. He spent most of his time in his office, but servants kept near-constant tabs on you in his absence. The only times you got to be alone, really alone, with him were in the late hours of the day, as you were preparing to sleep. He was always absent from the bed by morning.
You wonder sometimes if you really were just a pawn to make him look good in front of guests. You had asked him, once, why he never seemed to want to do things other married couples did. He told you that in a publicity marriage such as yours, what you did behind closed doors didn’t matter, and it was pointless to press the subject further.
But then, another time, you confessed to him that you missed farming. He told you that you had no need to waste your time growing vegetables when there were plenty of fresh ones imported daily. You told him it wasn’t about needing to, you just loved doing it. He sighed and you dropped the subject before he got irritated. The next day, however, he escorted you outside to the garden, and there’s a small plot of freshly tilled soil prepared just for you. He wordlessly hands you a container with an assortment of seeds.
It was a relatively small act, especially in the shadow of the grandeur he is capable of, but you found yourself questioning if he did care for you after all. Maybe he just showed it through his actions rather than his words. Although, what if he was only doing it to keep you happy, so you wouldn't bother him about more troublesome things like your parents?
Your parents. Remembering makes your chest ache, now from sadness rather than anxiety. Did they know what kind of man they had married you off to? Exactly what kind of Fatui he was? Sometimes they were diplomats, yes, but other times they were soldiers. Surely if they had known that, they would have thought twice about accepting the dowry.
Some of their earlier letters detailed what they were doing with the money, how grateful everyone was, and how much they missed you. They said they were eager for you to next visit. That was a long time ago, you hadn’t received a letter in months. Scaramouche tells you it's a good thing, and it was about time someone your age stopped relying on their parents. ‘Easy for you to say. You don’t have any!’ you had responded. That seemed to touch a nerve, and you felt the aftereffects of it for the rest of the day.
Your handmaid walks away with the empty glass after you finish it, and like it had been timed, Scaramouche calls you in for a refill. You take a breath to calm your nerves.
–
The moonlight streams in through your bedroom window, you hear crickets in the distance. Tonight, like most nights, you are awake much later than you ought to be, and your husband sleeps soundly beside you. You prop your head up on your elbow and scan him. He lays on his back, arms splayed at his sides. His expression is peaceful, perhaps the only time he doesn’t look annoyed. His eyelashes flutter slightly. When his eyes are closed, you can finally look at him without feeling like a bug under a magnifying glass. His watchful eyes, always scrutinizing you. Studying you. Waiting for you to take one wrong step so he can burn you with a ray of sunlight.
There is no sign of his signature glare. Like this, you admit, he is quite beautiful. His chest rises and falls in a smooth rhythm and you can’t help but stare. Your hand slides, slowly, beneath your pillow, your fingers wrap around the cool handle of a knife you had swiped from the kitchen. Just in case, you told yourself. Just in case of what? Who knew.
You entertain the idea of using the knife against him, taking him by surprise in his sleep, stabbing him and escaping out the window. No one would dare bother him this late, and it would be many hours before anyone dared to knock on his door the next morning.
You could do it. Make a break for the nearest town. If you stabbed him just right, he wouldn’t come for you, and even if you were caught, you’d just go to jail. Your fingers tighten around the handle. The scar on your face somehow burns at the thought of betraying him.
No, you couldn’t. Even if you wanted to, you just weren’t brave enough. Besides, he wasn’t so terrible that you had to get away from him at such a dire cost. He was fine company sometimes. You’d had a few interesting conversations over dinner. He was tolerable then. In fact, if you hadn’t felt like a hostage, if you had been allowed to step a single foot off the property in your entire marriage… He would probably be a good husband. He mostly let you do your own thing during the daytime, so long as you followed rules. You knew that many folk in less fortunate positions had much stricter spouses.
“Do you often stare at me while I sleep?”
You had become so lost in thought, you failed to notice him wake. You quickly retreat your hand. “No, Kuni. My apologies,” you say.
“It’s fine. Why are you still up?” He asks, eyes half-lidded with drowsiness. He doesn’t look angry. Yet.
“I just couldn’t sleep.”
He sighs. “Is that why you’re so useless in the mornings?”
You want to answer, to say something in your defense, but you just don’t have it in you. You’re silent, and he stares into your eyes. It feels like he’s scanning your soul, and you don’t like it. You look away.
“Do you want me to have a servant warm you some milk or something?” he offers. You wonder if he’s offering because he cares, or because he’s tired of you waking him up.
Maybe he doesn’t see the problem with waking some poor maid well after midnight to boil some milk, but you do. “No thank you. I’m fine, really.”
He sighs again, but this time he rolls his eyes, too. “You need to get over yourself. Come here.” He opens his arms in a shocking display of affection. You’re too surprised to react at first, and you generally avoid touching him anyways, but your wide-eyed staring gets old to him fast and you notice the tell-tale sign of him losing his patience: his eyes narrow.
You slide over into his arms, if only to please him, and they close around you like a bear trap. You lay your head on his chest and wonder if this was a bad idea. He never was this nice to you without ulterior motives- maybe he’d squeeze you to death in your sleep.
The gentle rise and fall of his chest distracts you yet again from your worries, and you allow it to slowly lull you into sleep.
If you had paid a bit more attention, you maybe would have noticed his lack of a heartbeat.
“A comfortable position, I hope?” Albedo said, sitting down in front of his easel. You neglect to give him a response, silently holding the pose he had picked for you.
That signature Mondstadt breeze blew gently against your face. This was Albedo's idea of a date, taking you out to Windrise so he could draw you against a scenic backdrop. It would have been romantic, too, if not for the bindings.
He lifts his charcoal stick and begins brushing it against his paper. The sound grates your ears, but it's better than his voice. You look just past him, not at him, because he wants a ‘faraway look’ in your eyes for the portrait. You oblige, if only because you can’t stand to see his face.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
You certainly hope so. After all, you didn't let him spend over an hour dolling you up and getting you into the perfect pose for you to not look goddamn ethereal. Still, you don't answer.
His eyes linger on you for just a second longer than necessary. "You know, I mostly sketch landscapes or things I see out on the field. Rarely people. But with you, I just can't help myself." He smiles wistfully.
Your hands are folded over in your lap, with loose-fitting, but still suffocating, cuffs binding your wrists. Just a precaution, he says, It's not that I don't trust you, but you know he's lying.
You sigh heavily.
Albedo sets down his charcoal and sighs with you. “You’re upset,” he says.
You are unable to hold back a laugh, though it’s more of a bitter cackle. You want to snap at him, of course I’m upset, you dense prick, but you manage to keep your criticism to yourself. He wouldn’t listen anyways.
“Do you not like the scenery?” He asks. “I thought you wanted some fresh air.”
Yeah, but not in handcuffs. You meet his eyes for the first time since you got here. His gaze is questioning, like he truly expects you to be grateful for this excursion. Yes, every person’s dream date, sitting in a chair and doing nothing for hours while your boyfriend stares at you. How thrilling.
You roll your eyes at him. You know just as well as he does why this is wrong. He’s just baiting you.
And yet…
“Won’t you talk to me? Humor me?” He tilts his head, and the man before you makes you think of something along the lines of a kicked puppy.
You huff, defeatedly. “Fine. You think this was what I wanted? To be alone, with you, like I always am, just with a slightly different backdrop?” You snap. He looks hurt. You don't stop.
“You don’t understand that this is wrong? It’s a miracle you graduated college if you can’t figure out that much.” You glare at him. “But I know you understand. You just don’t care.” You turn your eyes away from him and return to the portrait pose.
He quietly picks up his charcoal and resumes drawing you. The silence is probably deafening to him, but to you, it’s much-needed and peaceful.
After a while, he stands up and lifts the canvas off the easel and walks towards you. He holds the portrait out to you. You can’t hold it, handcuffs and all, so you just admire it.
It’s flattering, to say the least. The person in the portrait looks like you, but they’re drawn in such a way that if you didn’t know better, you’d probably stop them on the sidewalk to say they were beautiful. That was one thing he was good at, at least, bringing the beauty out of truly anybody.
Your gaze drifts downwards towards the image’s lap. Your wrists are bare, he’s graciously left the shackles from the portrait. Of course, how else could he hang it in any galleries? Show it to anybody without them finding out about his ‘little secret?’ You sigh, yet again, and say nothing.
do you have any plans of making a part 4 to for better or for worse? it’s fantastic ^^
most certainly! i find scaramouche to be one of the easiest characters to write for (which is probably obvious) and i already have ideas in mind for more fics with the same setting/dynamic established in for better or worse. however i spent a considerably long amount of time working on it, since it was my debut fic, and i wanted to take a break to diversify my library haha.
When he awoke, his forehead was cold. And wet. He opened his eyes and a stranger hovered over him, wiping at his face with a damp washrag. They met his eyes and smiled kindly, pulling the rag away. He shot up into a sitting position, moving away from the stranger.
“Ah, you’re awake!” They grinned excitedly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”
The speed at which he sat up made his head throb. He tried formulating a sentence, but the ache was just too much. "Who- ugh…" He squeezed his temples in one hand. The room seemed to spin around him, but he took in his surroundings anyways. He was laying on a thin futon, and the room was mostly barren, save for a dresser and a trunk. This must've been a guest room. Daylight streamed in through the lone window.
"You should lay back down," the stranger said, "I found you passed out by the river this morning. I think a boar must have caught you by surprise!" They laughed lightly, but their laughter faded out when they noticed that he was just as stone-faced as before.
"A boar!? I'll have you know- There's absolutely no way that I-" Throbbing pain cut him off once again, and he defeatedly laid back down. His breathing was labored from the combined stress and pain. The cold rag touched him again, contrasting against his hot skin, wiping away his sweat and easing his ache.
"Is that better?" Was that supposed to be comforting, or patronizing? He couldn't tell the difference.
"Whatever. Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm (Name)," the stranger said. Well, no longer a stranger anymore. "What about you?" they smiled, disarmingly, trying to help him relax a little. He wouldn't get better if he was on edge the whole time.
He thought about how to answer. He didn't have a name, did he? She didn't bother to give him one. Thinking about it made anger bubble up from deep within his gut. He'd just have to come up with his own, wouldn't he? He takes a deep breath.
"Kunikuzushi," he answered, finally.
(Name) looked at him as if in thought. "An interesting name," they said. They folded up the rag and placed it on his forehead as a makeshift ice pack, for his headache. And then they put a hand on the hem of his torn shirt.
His muscles tense as he sits up and prepares to jerk back, get their gross peasant hands off of him, but before he can even react his shirt has been lifted up, exposing a bandage wrapped skillfully around his stomach.
"See? There was a nasty gash when I found you. Right about here…" they gently, gently traced a finger over his side, where a barely-visible red stain was seeping through the bandages. Even though they took specific care to not disturb the wound, the feather-light touch makes him shiver slightly. "You must've hit your head on the way down, too."
"So, what are you, then? A nurse? Some kind of back alley doctor?" he asks in an accusatory tone.
They meet his gaze, and their eyes are gentle. They aren't disgusted with him, like others. Their gaze is warm. "You'd be surprised how many hunters, adventurers, and just general idiots come wandering out here," they laughed lightly again. He hardens his eyes into a glare, but they continue anyways. "You have to learn at least a little first aid, being the only house for miles out here." They break eye contact, staring out the window with a faraway look.
He huffs. Alone in a cabin in the woods with some weirdo. Great, not like he had anywhere better to be.
(Name) seems to phase back into reality after a moment. "So, you really shouldn't be wandering around in this state. Stay and rest for a few days until you're feeling better. Do you have anyone you need to go back to?" they ask.
He sighs and lays down. "No."
(Name) gets up from their kneeling position by his futon. "Alright then." They turn and leave, closing the door behind them. Kunikuzushi closes his eyes and rests.
--
You check on Kunikuzushi every day, a few times a day. You bring him meals and monitor his recovery. He is resistant to talking to you at first, but you wear him down.
On the third day, you ask him to join you for a walk. To make sure he's getting exercise.
You tell him about the house. You're the only one who insists on taking in random injured strangers, which is why he's only ever seen you. But you have a family, you tell him.
"I live here with my husband," you start. You slide open the guest room door, and step into the hallway. "And my younger brother. Our parents have passed, so I take care of him."
Kunikuzushi follows your footsteps silently, deep in thought. You had a family. And here he thought you were some loner creep.
You laugh that beautiful laugh again, but it rings with some sadness. "They hate it when I bring in people…" You make eye contact with him, looking slightly guilty, "... like you. They say the resources I spend on taking care of outsiders can be used for better things. But it's not like I can just leave them there-" You stop when you hear your voice start to crack. "Sorry to drop that all on you," you say.
Kunikuzushi doesn't answer. The two of you pass through a dining room. Kunikuzushi sees a silhouette pass through another hallway, but you turn the other way, and he follows. You slide open another door and he sees the outside.
"So. Have you thought about where you're going to go? You're just about in working condition." You've brought back your cheery, kind tone.
The sun warms his skin when he gets outside. It's the first time he's been outside since he woke up in your guest room. He sighs. "No, I don't even know where I'd start," he says. His eyes scan the thick green trees, forest as far as he can see.
"You don't have... anyone at all?" you ask.
The question makes him irritated. You ask him as if having a loving family is the norm. Like he's some weirdo for being alone, and you're not incredibly lucky for what you have. He holds back a snide remark with all his strength, and replies, "When I leave here, I'll be all alone."
He looks over to you, and you're smiling at him like you always do.
"You can stay here as long as you like."
--
He meets your husband and brother. They start off a bit callous, like they're irritated he's stuck around this long, but after a couple more days they warm up to him enough. He still sleeps on the futon in the guest room, but he joins you and your family for meals. You're a wonderful conversation partner, he thinks, and he much prefers your company to solitary wandering. With each passing day, he is more and more content to be living under your roof, with you.
Sometimes, only sometimes, jealousy stirs in his gut at the sight of you with your husband at the dinner table. Sometimes he felt resentment towards both of you for being so shameless right in front of him. But then, you weren't staying up into the late hours of the night talking to your husband, were you? No, your free time was often spent with him. The thought keeps his jealousy at bay.
He's gotten his strength back. He helps you chop wood in the yard sometimes. You ask him to do lots of heavy lifting- he has to earn his keep, after all.
He started taking walks on his own, too. Every day he wanders a little farther out, scoping out the forest. One day, he isn't alone. He meets a stranger who recognizes him. Who makes him promises of power unlike anything he's had- power he should have had. Power that was taken from him.
Later that night, when Kunikuzushi gets home- Home? When had he started calling this shack home? Well, you're sitting at the dining table, alone, with a solemn look on your face. You turn to greet him and smile weakly. You ask him to sit, and he does.
He wants to start first, to tell you about the offer he got. But you start before he can articulate the words.
"I talked to my family today. You've been here a while, huh?" You find it hard to meet his gaze, looking at your hands.
He's frozen. He just stares, waiting for you to continue.
"Well, the house- it's a bit crowded- Well, we can't really afford the extra mouth- um, you were never meant to stay this long--" you ramble. Excuse after excuse pours from your lips, and Kunikuzushi is wide-eyed with horror. You were kicking him out?
The familiar feeling of jealousy twists his stomach and clouds his mind.
"Stop. Let's leave. You can come with me," he says. You stop talking and stare at him blankly, but he continues. "Your husband wants me to leave, right? He's just jealous of what we have. We don't have to worry about him." He takes one of your hands in his.
You yank it away and stare. The kindness is gone from your eyes. "What are you talking about? I'm not leaving my family. Who would take care of my brother? What about--" you cut yourself off and sigh. "It's time for you to go, Kunikuzushi."
He stands abruptly. He's panicking now. "No- you can't-" Anger mixes with his jealousy.
You try talking to him, saying something to calm him down, but he isn't listening anymore.
He rapidly glances around the room. Maybe if you had kicked him out yesterday, he wouldn't have been bold enough to do this. What, it's not like he would have had a place of his own to bring you back to. But now, he just had to find that stranger again.
His hand wraps around a vase. Yes, it would be so easy. Find the stranger. "I'll go with you,'' he would tell him, "I'll let you unseal that power, but they have to be taken care of too." There's no way he could refuse that deal.
Before you can scream, the glass is shattered over your head.
--
When you wake, you're rocking slightly. Like you're riding in a cart over rough terrain. You open your eyes and look around, only to realize that that's exactly what's happening- you're in a wheelbarrow.
Looking around, the woods you see are not reminiscent at all of the woods you called home. It had to be early morning. Where was this? You attempted to prop yourself up, but your arms were bound at the wrists.
You roll over onto your stomach and peer over the edge of the wheelbarrow. Ahead of you, someone you don't recognize is pulling the cart. Based on their clothes, they seem to be some kind of servant. Farther ahead, you see two men walking side by side. You recognize one.
Despite the warm sun hitting you, your hairs stand on their ends. Your recollection of the previous night comes flooding into your mind and you panic. He had kidnapped you. Would your brother manage without you? Was your husband out here searching? Your breathing picks up significantly as you feel your world come crashing in.
The servant hears your labored breathing and turns to look at you. They give you wide eyes and stop the cart. "Sir- They're awake!"
The two men also stop in their tracks. Kunikuzushi spins around and walks over to the cart. You start spilling words out before he is even halfway to your side.
"What the hell is your problem? You're insane. I should never have helped you. Untie me now-"
He reaches the cart and holds your bound hands in his. He doesn't respond to any of your insults or demands, and your voice fades away. You stare into his eyes and find them to be void of sympathy, instead swirling with affection. He kneels at the side of the cart to be eye level with you. "This is for the best. We're going somewhere that no one can come between us." His voice is flat, he's dead serious.
Your thoughts race as you consider your response. He was absolutely crazy and you needed to get home. "They'll look for me. I've probably already been reported missing."
He smiles at this, and you fail to see what's so funny. "I wouldn't worry about them anymore." He pets your hair with one hand, and you try to lean away from his touch, but your mobility is limited.
"You're sick. I hate you," you spit. You jerk away from his hand harshly, but he isn't having it.
His fingers slip through strands of your hair and squeeze, holding your head still. He stands up and leans over you. "I suggest you drop the attitude. You have no idea where we're going. No one is going to look down on me again," he scolds, eyes narrowed with fury, "Not even you."
He releases you and walks away. He signals to the servant to keep walking.
You curl up on your side and pull your knees up to your stomach. Your family was right. This is what you got for being kind to a stranger. No good deed goes unpunished.
