Hi hi! I'm Kay! A pleasure to meet you. It's only polite to introduce myself, even if I'm admittedly on and off here.
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I'm a 23 year old fic writer, just writing whatever I happen to feel like at that moment. Which, in spite of some notable constant interests, can change quite frequently. Though, for the foreseeable future, I'll probably be writing primarily just Genshin Impact.
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I am also happy to take requests, within reason, and there is little I flatout refuse to write for. Such as overly gratuitous violence/gore, incest (selfcest is okay tho!), or any sort of scat kink.
That's just about it, hope you enjoy my writing, and feel free to come send me a message some time! I'm always open to chat! c:
During a private one-on-one meeting with Lumine, Mizuki has a very interesting (and stimulating) use for her tail.
Fingertips as smooth as ephemeral dewdrops had long since loosened the fastens of her halter dress, the thick black straps drooping along her shoulders. The girl above her tracing primly across the delicate skin usually hidden beneath the fabric.
“I feel I should thank you for this opportunity… Allowing yourself to be seen like this… that takes quite a lot of trust… and… vulnerability…”
She trails off as she continues her ministrations. Occasionally stopping to tweak a perky nipple or brush across that sensitive spot she had found on her collarbone that would make Lumine wriggle and tense in that cute way. Mizuki paused, sitting back on her creamy thighs to take a look at the wondrous subject lying prone beneath her.
“I-It’s nothing… don’t mention it…” Lumine mutters, attempting to keep her confidence despite the quickly broiling heat in her stomach.
Mizuki sighs appreciatively, her discordant eyes gleaming with tempered hunger. The spaded end of her tail twitches, and Lumine couldn't help but be enamored with how perfectly it squeezed the milky skin. Mizuki leans back down, pressing a featherlight brush to the tip of her nose, so soft it was nearly imperceptible. Taking a brief second to admire the blush of pink it left on her nose.
"I'd like to administer a more... verbose form of treatment. So just relax. You can do that for me, right?” Not actually needing a verbal answer at this point, she hooks a perfectly manicured fingertip into the edge of Lumine's bloomers, slipping them down her toned legs and gently letting them fall to the ground. Goosebumps prickling the blonde's skin at the cool air kissing her bare skin.
"It's a very special service…” Mizuki murmurs hazily, distracted by the visual feast before her. “...That’s just for you…”
The pad of her finger slips down to her newly exposed slit, gliding along the glistened surface with a coy smile until she reaches the hypersensitive nub perched at the top, rubbing it lazily with the smear of slick wetting her finger. She lifts her gaze back to the Lumine, watching as her eyes fall shut in relieved pleasure.
“That's good, darling? You feel nice?” Her voice is a dreamy susurration that in tandem with the languid movements of her finger, threaten to ruin her shaky composure entirely.
Lumine merely garbles out a terse, “Mhm.” Far too preoccupied with the present circumstance to bother with responding more clearly.
Mizuki hums in response. “Good. Then this should prove to be even more fulfilling for you…” With that, her spindly tail unfurls from around her thigh like a coiled snake on the prowl. She readjusts herself to straddle her lap, those sightly legs strewn across her taut belly while her tail slithers down between her spread legs. The tip is pointed, yet curved enough to warden off any pain as it presses against her heat, teasingly flicking up and down against the collected slick. Humming contentedly, she presses her palms against Lumine's front, slowly creeping one back up towards her breasts as her tail tip begins to press forward experimentally.
Lumine's eye squeeze shut at the foreign sensation against her delicate soft tissue, letting out a high-pitched whimper that reverberates against her clamped shut lips. Mizuki absorbs her reaction carefully, pausing with just about two thirds of the tasselled tip pushed inside. Taking her reaction as a net positive, she continues, popping the last bit inside with Lumine squirming and writhing softly in surprise beneath her. Her fluffy hair mussed and her undone , rumpled dress covering little more than her belly now. It may be the best dream Mizuki’s ever experienced, and she won't even need to wake up.
“You're doing so good, Traveler. Deep breaths, okay?” She slips a hand beneath her thigh, pulling it upwards, her other hand tracing stimulating circles along her still reddened aerola. All the while, she continues to slowly thrust the purple appendage inside the beautiful girl below her. “You want the rest of it, darling?”
Digging her fingernails into her palms, Lumine nods firmly, managing to mutter out a simple, “Put it in.”
“As you wish.”
The wirey base wriggles as it slowly creeps forward, pushing in inch by tortuously wondrous inch. Massaging her insides with its bouncy movements, jiggling and snapping ever so slightly with each push like a stiffened cord.
It was wholly bizarre, but irrefutably enough for Lumine. Wrapping one arm around the throw pillow behind her head, her other grabs Mizuki’s wrist on her chest with a death grip. Supple hips gently undulating in time with Mizuki's rhythm.
“Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop-...” Digging her fingernails into her wrist, she gasps sharply into the quiet of the office room before her pitch raises several octaves like a keening puppy. Her thighs squirm against Mizuki's sides as her head falls back.
“O-oh, that's…” She slumps against the cushions beneath her, panting softly. Her eyes half-mast and dazed with delirious satiation, a few pricks of sweat visible along her forehead that Mizuki gently wipes away with her hand previously behind her thigh.
“There you go…” Mizuki coos, her tail slowly slipping out from her. “Very good, very good girl. You did amazing.” “You…” Lumine starts, a tad raspy, still not reenergized enough to so much as look directly at her, “You do this to a lot of your patients?"
Mizuki titters, fluffing her cropped strands affectionately, her sullied tail flicking about behind her. “Certainly not. I already told you, it's just for you. Perhaps I should add it to your long-term treatment plan, hm?”
Lumine manages a laugh, flashing her a weak, satisfied smile. “That could definitely be arranged.”
Scaramouche brings an injured Lumine home, and try as he might, he can't completely hide the harrowing feeling of old wounds opening upon seeing her injured.
Part Two to this: https://www.tumblr.com/sugarnsmokerings/775195023057764352/dumbass-lumine-gets-just-a-bit-injured
But can be read on its own. c:
Swinging the door to the Teapot Abode shut with his foot, Scaramouche promptly plops Lumine onto the couch with a dull thud.
Working quickly, he swipes one of the throw pillows from the opposite end of the sofa, lifting the injured leg by the ankle and stuffing it underneath the appendage before lowering it back down. The wrappings on her lower leg now quaintly propped.
He stands up and turns away, before promptly pausing to fix her with a glare and a pointed index finger.
"Stay."
It's almost as if he were referring to a dog, but Lumine knew better than to bother to take offense. It would only encourage him afterall. Maybe that sort of behavioral training on her part would make him the dog if anyone.
With that, he marches off, disappearing down one of the many winding halls. The subtle clacking of his sandals deadening until she was left in silence. Her head slumps against the armrest with a sigh before hazarding a glance down at her blighted leg, frowning in discontent. Scaramouche hadn't actually told her how bad it was, but she could already tell it'd surely keep her out of commission for at least a full day. Both literally and figuratively. "Stupid Lawlachurl..."
Amidst her musing of misgivings, a shrill, yet familiar, screech pierces the still, artificial air, coming from the direction Scaramouche left in.
Paimon.
She was in the kitchen, presumably stress eating given the Traveler's unintentionally extended absence. And Scaramouche had also presumably told her about her injury, and knowing him... he presumably did so in a rather gaffe manner.
This theory is all but confirmed as the poor wooden door is slammed open by the shrill squealing fairy.
"TRAVELERRRRR!!!"
She zooms her way over to where they lay. Clasping her face in her little hands and looking over her with abject terror. Quite the overreaction really. She looked like she was staring right at her casket.
"Traveler, what happened?!? You told Paimon you'd be no longer than thirty minutes! Thirty. Minutes. But you were nearly two hours! Paimon waited and waited and waited and you never came back!"
Lumine's mouth scrunches in a mixture of guilt and thinly veiled annoyance. She didn't have the energy to console her with the earnestness she usually would, but she couldn't leave her there practically sobbing to herself in her worry. But as she moves to sit herself up and open her mouth, she's abruptly interrupted.
Scaramouche had followed her out, now setting a cup of hot tea on the side table next to her, a bit harsher than necessary given his annoyance, not taking his eyes off Paimon all the while. His sandals were off and so was his haori, his indigo hair largely tucked behind his ears, a few errant strands poking out all the same. He had clearly been interrupted in the midst of cooking for her. How domestic. Lumine bites back a smile.
"Archon's sake, you pixie, she's not dying. She's just a dumbass who got herself smacked around a bit too much."
Paimon's expression contorts from a brief look of relief to annoyance at his rude remarks. She fixes her slumped posture, holding her head high and crossing her arms. "Pffft. Y-yeah well... can't blame Paimon for being worried about her friend! Not that you'd understand!"
Scaramouche raises a thin brow. Oh, how he could beg to differ. Merely shaking his head, he turns to leave once more. The once whimpering companion seemingly consoled. "Yeah, whatever. Make yourself useful for once and make sure she stays seated."
And he's gone again as fast as he reappeared.
"Of course I will, but not because you told Paimon to!" She retorts haughtily even though he's practically out of earshot, coming to float besides Lumine's legs,
Lumine sighs exasperatedly before turning to Paimon. "What did he tell you?"
Paimon stiffens, her gaze sliding away from her beloved travel companion. "Paimon doesn't want to say..."
She narrows her eyes at Paimon's side profile, that's just about what she expected, albeit worried she would say. That asshole...
While Paimon eventually flutters off to go rest away her previous panic, Lumine's gaze drifts back to the steaming cup of tea he had brought her, and the occasional clink and soft clatter coming from behind the kitchen door... An asshole to be sure, though perhaps, not completely hopeless.
Gingerly propping herself up with the armrest, she takes the cup between her two hands and steadily brings it to her mouth. Chamomile. With just a taste of honey. Just how she liked it.
The kitchen door swings back open, that familiar frumpy face carrying a small, ornate ceramic tray. He strides over to her, stopping only as his knees press against her own stretched across the couch.
"Move." He states tersely, nodding towards herself currently taking up both cushions.
Lumine obliges, gingerly shifting into a sitting position, taking care to not put pressure on her wound. Scaramouche watches silently the whole time, his gaze insistent but not at all impatient before sitting down beside her. Allowing her curious gaze to survey what was atop the quaint tea tray.
In the center, a bowl of porridge was giving off a heady scent, dotted with lush green scallions and a boiled egg cut down the middle sporting a deliciously jammy center. Her personal mini teapot was to the right, presumably filled with a replacement cup of her chamomile tea, and a half drank cup of his own. And finally to the opposite of the bowl was a simple mini dish of meticulously cut berries.
Lumine hadn't been thinking much about her stomach really, for once, but she sure was now as her gazes flicks along the perfectly set serving tray. Eagerly taking it from his outstretched hands and setting it on her lap with an excited gaze to which Scaramouche rolls his eyes at. Her and her food.
"Don't cram it all down at once, that went so well for you last time." Once she's adjusted the tray adequately on her thighs and began to eat, he gently lifts her leg onto her lap. Pulling the small medical pouch he keeps on him just for her out of his pocket and setting it beside him as he gently begins to undress the original dress job he had done just well enough to subdue the bleeding.
Lumine of course, doesn't seem to care at all about his fussing, nor his concerns about her bad habits as she spoons the savory porridge into her mouth. Eager, yet still not indecorous in her mannerisms.
There's a beat of silence, only interrupted by the tugging of cloth and the clinking of cutlery. Eventually, Scaramouche is the one to break it as he stares at her bloodied skin with a pinched brow. "...You've got to be more careful." He sighs, crumpling up the soiled cloth and setting aside before pulling a roll of bandaging from his bag. The movements gentle and considerate as he cleans the area, his free hand absently rubbing the skin of her knee.
Unperturbed, Lumine nearly shrugs, still munching away without a care. "Oh, come on. I told you, it's fine! It's just a flesh wound, I've had way worse." She remarks with an edge of smugness, prideful of her exploits.
Scaramouche's expression darkens, his fingers on her knee squeezing somewhat, not taking his eyes off her leg. "I mean it."
She pauses, her exultant expression dampening at the drop in his tone. Oh. Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid. Who was she kidding? Of course he wouldn't be too lackadaisical about it, he who already lost everything he loved once, even himself. If it were to happen again, would he... She shakes that train of thought off. No, she didn't want to think about that. Not right now.
"...Sorry."
Noting the vulnerability in her tone, his lip twitches downwards imperceptibly. He shakes his head, rubbing over the same spot, even as it's free of any remaining blood. "Whatever."
Whatever? Oh no, he doesn't. She's not letting him withdraw on her now. Not after that. She sits up, leaning forward. "No, not whatever. I know what you're thinking, so why don't you talk to me?"
Another twitch. This time of the eye. But she was long past being even slightly intimidated by him. Even as he puts on that low, dangerous tone of his. The one that means, "back off." "...If you already know, then why the hell should I say it?"
Lumine's lips press into a flat line, taking a moment to think through her response. She knows she has to tread carefully here, even if her injured state is a leverage in her favor. Beneath it all, he really was still delicate to the point of potentially shattering once more. A veritable glass cannon in the flesh, with all that it entails.
"...I want to hear it from you."
...No response. Though no deflections either. That's good. So she pushes onward.
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, I know that, but you don't have to hide from me either."
She bites her lip, so far so good. Nothing was said that he could've possibly gotten defensive over. "So... why can't you tell me what's wrong?"
He finally stops scrubbing that clean spot with a sigh, his gaze pointedly down at his hand clutching the cloth.
"...Never again. And definitely not with you."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Scaramouche scoffs derisively. He's heard that before. "You better not." He uncorks a small jar of ointment, smearing it across the seam of the gash, not so much as reacting to her tiny hiss of pain at the feeling.
Still staring at his side profile, she wants to say something else, but what? He wasn't exactly an easy one to console. Closed off, yet devastatingly vulnerable. Abrasive and haughty, yet with far too much insecurity for his own good. Every reply, be it trite, heartfelt, or blunt felt ill fit. "...I do mean it. No one can get rid of me so easily."
"I know." He says. His voice has softened, but that cadence is back again, tucked in his undertone. The one trying to shake her off. And this time, she reluctantly lets him. At least she's said her piece, even if it was a heavily Scaramouche-sanctioned version, and not what she really wanted to tell him.
A slightly awkward silence falls between them as Scaramouche finishes dressing her wound up. Lumine having set the tray aside on the table, watching his gentle movements while idly sipping her tea.
How badly she wanted to get through to him. More than she already has anyways. To console his aching heart properly, rather than skirting about the glaring issue with carefully selected replies that feel more manufactured than anything adequate.
But what would he do if she did? Would he merely tell her to buzz off and leave it at that? Maybe, most likely actually, but the more grevious scenarios still kept her hesitating. She understood wholeheartedly just who and what he was, and who he's shown capable of being. Lumine makes no excuses for it, nor does she make allowances on his behalf, but it was the searing pain forcibly carved into his hollow chest that allowed himself to be led astray so virulently in the first place. That very pain that had forebode the metaphorical albatross hanging forevermore along his neck. And for that, she also doesn't make allowances.
Still, she knew better than most people that the only way out is forward, just as well as she knew the metaphorical heart racketing away inside his vacant chest.
Heart. Too much heart.
How ironic for that to be the vice card he's dealt. The quintessential tell all for where it all went wrong lay in that frail core that just wants to be loved above all else.
Scaramouche finishes up on her ankle, running his fingertips over the bandage, making certain there was not a bump or a lump out of place and retracting his grasp.
"There. Now for god's sake, be a little more careful."
Lumine smiles softly, her leg still strewn across his lap. Careful is not a word in her vocabulary, and she rarely cared to include it, but love is a thing defined by a willingness to compromise. "I will... be more careful... for your sake."
There's a quirk to his lip that she could almost swear was a suppressed smile.
"...Good. Because I'm not going to keep pampering your ass every time you decide to be an idiot."
It's a lie, and they both know it, but she's content to let him pretend she finds him so tough.
She laughs softly, gazing back at him like she couldn't believe he exists. Like a sad, little withered flower learning to bloom again.
"Then thank you for pampering me." She pauses, glancing back at the nearly empty tray beside her, a smirk finding its way onto her mouth. "...And speaking of which, I could use more tea."
He raises his brows incredulously, fighting a losing battle to look annoyed before giving up entirely. He sighs to himself, that presumed affectionate smile now on full display as he stands up. He very gently places her leg back onto the couch cushion he was sitting on like it was priceless glass, giving her head a quick ruffle as he walks by. Muttering to himself loud enough for her to overhear.
Scaramouche brings an injured Lumine home, and try as he might, he can't completely hide the harrowing feeling of old wounds opening upon seeing her injured.
Part Two to this: https://www.tumblr.com/sugarnsmokerings/775195023057764352/dumbass-lumine-gets-just-a-bit-injured
But can be read on its own. c:
Swinging the door to the Teapot Abode shut with his foot, Scaramouche promptly plops Lumine onto the couch with a dull thud.
Working quickly, he swipes one of the throw pillows from the opposite end of the sofa, lifting the injured leg by the ankle and stuffing it underneath the appendage before lowering it back down. The wrappings on her lower leg now quaintly propped.
He stands up and turns away, before promptly pausing to fix her with a glare and a pointed index finger.
"Stay."
It's almost as if he were referring to a dog, but Lumine knew better than to bother to take offense. It would only encourage him afterall. Maybe that sort of behavioral training on her part would make him the dog if anyone.
With that, he marches off, disappearing down one of the many winding halls. The subtle clacking of his sandals deadening until she was left in silence. Her head slumps against the armrest with a sigh before hazarding a glance down at her blighted leg, frowning in discontent. Scaramouche hadn't actually told her how bad it was, but she could already tell it'd surely keep her out of commission for at least a full day. Both literally and figuratively. "Stupid Lawlachurl..."
Amidst her musing of misgivings, a shrill, yet familiar, screech pierces the still, artificial air, coming from the direction Scaramouche left in.
Paimon.
She was in the kitchen, presumably stress eating given the Traveler's unintentionally extended absence. And Scaramouche had also presumably told her about her injury, and knowing him... he presumably did so in a rather gaffe manner.
This theory is all but confirmed as the poor wooden door is slammed open by the shrill squealing fairy.
"TRAVELERRRRR!!!"
She zooms her way over to where they lay. Clasping her face in her little hands and looking over her with abject terror. Quite the overreaction really. She looked like she was staring right at her casket.
"Traveler, what happened?!? You told Paimon you'd be no longer than thirty minutes! Thirty. Minutes. But you were nearly two hours! Paimon waited and waited and waited and you never came back!"
Lumine's mouth scrunches in a mixture of guilt and thinly veiled annoyance. She didn't have the energy to console her with the earnestness she usually would, but she couldn't leave her there practically sobbing to herself in her worry. But as she moves to sit herself up and open her mouth, she's abruptly interrupted.
Scaramouche had followed her out, now setting a cup of hot tea on the side table next to her, a bit harsher than necessary given his annoyance, not taking his eyes off Paimon all the while. His sandals were off and so was his haori, his indigo hair largely tucked behind his ears, a few errant strands poking out all the same. He had clearly been interrupted in the midst of cooking for her. How domestic. Lumine bites back a smile.
"Archon's sake, you pixie, she's not dying. She's just a dumbass who got herself smacked around a bit too much."
Paimon's expression contorts from a brief look of relief to annoyance at his rude remarks. She fixes her slumped posture, holding her head high and crossing her arms. "Pffft. Y-yeah well... can't blame Paimon for being worried about her friend! Not that you'd understand!"
Scaramouche raises a thin brow. Oh, how he could beg to differ. Merely shaking his head, he turns to leave once more. The once whimpering companion seemingly consoled. "Yeah, whatever. Make yourself useful for once and make sure she stays seated."
And he's gone again as fast as he reappeared.
"Of course I will, but not because you told Paimon to!" She retorts haughtily even though he's practically out of earshot, coming to float besides Lumine's legs,
Lumine sighs exasperatedly before turning to Paimon. "What did he tell you?"
Paimon stiffens, her gaze sliding away from her beloved travel companion. "Paimon doesn't want to say..."
She narrows her eyes at Paimon's side profile, that's just about what she expected, albeit worried she would say. That asshole...
While Paimon eventually flutters off to go rest away her previous panic, Lumine's gaze drifts back to the steaming cup of tea he had brought her, and the occasional clink and soft clatter coming from behind the kitchen door... An asshole to be sure, though perhaps, not completely hopeless.
Gingerly propping herself up with the armrest, she takes the cup between her two hands and steadily brings it to her mouth. Chamomile. With just a taste of honey. Just how she liked it.
The kitchen door swings back open, that familiar frumpy face carrying a small, ornate ceramic tray. He strides over to her, stopping only as his knees press against her own stretched across the couch.
"Move." He states tersely, nodding towards herself currently taking up both cushions.
Lumine obliges, gingerly shifting into a sitting position, taking care to not put pressure on her wound. Scaramouche watches silently the whole time, his gaze insistent but not at all impatient before sitting down beside her. Allowing her curious gaze to survey what was atop the quaint tea tray.
In the center, a bowl of porridge was giving off a heady scent, dotted with lush green scallions and a boiled egg cut down the middle sporting a deliciously jammy center. Her personal mini teapot was to the right, presumably filled with a replacement cup of her chamomile tea, and a half drank cup of his own. And finally to the opposite of the bowl was a simple mini dish of meticulously cut berries.
Lumine hadn't been thinking much about her stomach really, for once, but she sure was now as her gazes flicks along the perfectly set serving tray. Eagerly taking it from his outstretched hands and setting it on her lap with an excited gaze to which Scaramouche rolls his eyes at. Her and her food.
"Don't cram it all down at once, that went so well for you last time." Once she's adjusted the tray adequately on her thighs and began to eat, he gently lifts her leg onto her lap. Pulling the small medical pouch he keeps on him just for her out of his pocket and setting it beside him as he gently begins to undress the original dress job he had done just well enough to subdue the bleeding.
Lumine of course, doesn't seem to care at all about his fussing, nor his concerns about her bad habits as she spoons the savory porridge into her mouth. Eager, yet still not indecorous in her mannerisms.
There's a beat of silence, only interrupted by the tugging of cloth and the clinking of cutlery. Eventually, Scaramouche is the one to break it as he stares at her bloodied skin with a pinched brow. "...You've got to be more careful." He sighs, crumpling up the soiled cloth and setting aside before pulling a roll of bandaging from his bag. The movements gentle and considerate as he cleans the area, his free hand absently rubbing the skin of her knee.
Unperturbed, Lumine nearly shrugs, still munching away without a care. "Oh, come on. I told you, it's fine! It's just a flesh wound, I've had way worse." She remarks with an edge of smugness, prideful of her exploits.
Scaramouche's expression darkens, his fingers on her knee squeezing somewhat, not taking his eyes off her leg. "I mean it."
She pauses, her exultant expression dampening at the drop in his tone. Oh. Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid. Who was she kidding? Of course he wouldn't be too lackadaisical about it, he who already lost everything he loved once, even himself. If it were to happen again, would he... She shakes that train of thought off. No, she didn't want to think about that. Not right now.
"...Sorry."
Noting the vulnerability in her tone, his lip twitches downwards imperceptibly. He shakes his head, rubbing over the same spot, even as it's free of any remaining blood. "Whatever."
Whatever? Oh no, he doesn't. She's not letting him withdraw on her now. Not after that. She sits up, leaning forward. "No, not whatever. I know what you're thinking, so why don't you talk to me?"
Another twitch. This time of the eye. But she was long past being even slightly intimidated by him. Even as he puts on that low, dangerous tone of his. The one that means, "back off." "...If you already know, then why the hell should I say it?"
Lumine's lips press into a flat line, taking a moment to think through her response. She knows she has to tread carefully here, even if her injured state is a leverage in her favor. Beneath it all, he really was still delicate to the point of potentially shattering once more. A veritable glass cannon in the flesh, with all that it entails.
"...I want to hear it from you."
...No response. Though no deflections either. That's good. So she pushes onward.
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, I know that, but you don't have to hide from me either."
She bites her lip, so far so good. Nothing was said that he could've possibly gotten defensive over. "So... why can't you tell me what's wrong?"
He finally stops scrubbing that clean spot with a sigh, his gaze pointedly down at his hand clutching the cloth.
"...Never again. And definitely not with you."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Scaramouche scoffs derisively. He's heard that before. "You better not." He uncorks a small jar of ointment, smearing it across the seam of the gash, not so much as reacting to her tiny hiss of pain at the feeling.
Still staring at his side profile, she wants to say something else, but what? He wasn't exactly an easy one to console. Closed off, yet devastatingly vulnerable. Abrasive and haughty, yet with far too much insecurity for his own good. Every reply, be it trite, heartfelt, or blunt felt ill fit. "...I do mean it. No one can get rid of me so easily."
"I know." He says. His voice has softened, but that cadence is back again, tucked in his undertone. The one trying to shake her off. And this time, she reluctantly lets him. At least she's said her piece, even if it was a heavily Scaramouche-sanctioned version, and not what she really wanted to tell him.
A slightly awkward silence falls between them as Scaramouche finishes dressing her wound up. Lumine having set the tray aside on the table, watching his gentle movements while idly sipping her tea.
How badly she wanted to get through to him. More than she already has anyways. To console his aching heart properly, rather than skirting about the glaring issue with carefully selected replies that feel more manufactured than anything adequate.
But what would he do if she did? Would he merely tell her to buzz off and leave it at that? Maybe, most likely actually, but the more grevious scenarios still kept her hesitating. She understood wholeheartedly just who and what he was, and who he's shown capable of being. Lumine makes no excuses for it, nor does she make allowances on his behalf, but it was the searing pain forcibly carved into his hollow chest that allowed himself to be led astray so virulently in the first place. That very pain that had forebode the metaphorical albatross hanging forevermore along his neck. And for that, she also doesn't make allowances.
Still, she knew better than most people that the only way out is forward, just as well as she knew the metaphorical heart racketing away inside his vacant chest.
Heart. Too much heart.
How ironic for that to be the vice card he's dealt. The quintessential tell all for where it all went wrong lay in that frail core that just wants to be loved above all else.
Scaramouche finishes up on her ankle, running his fingertips over the bandage, making certain there was not a bump or a lump out of place and retracting his grasp.
"There. Now for god's sake, be a little more careful."
Lumine smiles softly, her leg still strewn across his lap. Careful is not a word in her vocabulary, and she rarely cared to include it, but love is a thing defined by a willingness to compromise. "I will... be more careful... for your sake."
There's a quirk to his lip that she could almost swear was a suppressed smile.
"...Good. Because I'm not going to keep pampering your ass every time you decide to be an idiot."
It's a lie, and they both know it, but she's content to let him pretend she finds him so tough.
She laughs softly, gazing back at him like she couldn't believe he exists. Like a sad, little withered flower learning to bloom again.
"Then thank you for pampering me." She pauses, glancing back at the nearly empty tray beside her, a smirk finding its way onto her mouth. "...And speaking of which, I could use more tea."
He raises his brows incredulously, fighting a losing battle to look annoyed before giving up entirely. He sighs to himself, that presumed affectionate smile now on full display as he stands up. He very gently places her leg back onto the couch cushion he was sitting on like it was priceless glass, giving her head a quick ruffle as he walks by. Muttering to himself loud enough for her to overhear.
one thing i adore about fandom is the “[bad parent]’s A+ parenting” tag on ao3. it’s so universal and so sarcastic and it makes me giggle every time i see it
During a private one-on-one meeting with Lumine, Mizuki has a very interesting (and stimulating) use for her tail.
Fingertips as smooth as ephemeral dewdrops had long since loosened the fastens of her halter dress, the thick black straps drooping along her shoulders. The girl above her tracing primly across the delicate skin usually hidden beneath the fabric.
“I feel I should thank you for this opportunity… Allowing yourself to be seen like this… that takes quite a lot of trust… and… vulnerability…”
She trails off as she continues her ministrations. Occasionally stopping to tweak a perky nipple or brush across that sensitive spot she had found on her collarbone that would make Lumine wriggle and tense in that cute way. Mizuki paused, sitting back on her creamy thighs to take a look at the wondrous subject lying prone beneath her.
“I-It’s nothing… don’t mention it…” Lumine mutters, attempting to keep her confidence despite the quickly broiling heat in her stomach.
Mizuki sighs appreciatively, her discordant eyes gleaming with tempered hunger. The spaded end of her tail twitches, and Lumine couldn't help but be enamored with how perfectly it squeezed the milky skin. Mizuki leans back down, pressing a featherlight brush to the tip of her nose, so soft it was nearly imperceptible. Taking a brief second to admire the blush of pink it left on her nose.
"I'd like to administer a more... verbose form of treatment. So just relax. You can do that for me, right?” Not actually needing a verbal answer at this point, she hooks a perfectly manicured fingertip into the edge of Lumine's bloomers, slipping them down her toned legs and gently letting them fall to the ground. Goosebumps prickling the blonde's skin at the cool air kissing her bare skin.
"It's a very special service…” Mizuki murmurs hazily, distracted by the visual feast before her. “...That’s just for you…”
The pad of her finger slips down to her newly exposed slit, gliding along the glistened surface with a coy smile until she reaches the hypersensitive nub perched at the top, rubbing it lazily with the smear of slick wetting her finger. She lifts her gaze back to the Lumine, watching as her eyes fall shut in relieved pleasure.
“That's good, darling? You feel nice?” Her voice is a dreamy susurration that in tandem with the languid movements of her finger, threaten to ruin her shaky composure entirely.
Lumine merely garbles out a terse, “Mhm.” Far too preoccupied with the present circumstance to bother with responding more clearly.
Mizuki hums in response. “Good. Then this should prove to be even more fulfilling for you…” With that, her spindly tail unfurls from around her thigh like a coiled snake on the prowl. She readjusts herself to straddle her lap, those sightly legs strewn across her taut belly while her tail slithers down between her spread legs. The tip is pointed, yet curved enough to warden off any pain as it presses against her heat, teasingly flicking up and down against the collected slick. Humming contentedly, she presses her palms against Lumine's front, slowly creeping one back up towards her breasts as her tail tip begins to press forward experimentally.
Lumine's eye squeeze shut at the foreign sensation against her delicate soft tissue, letting out a high-pitched whimper that reverberates against her clamped shut lips. Mizuki absorbs her reaction carefully, pausing with just about two thirds of the tasselled tip pushed inside. Taking her reaction as a net positive, she continues, popping the last bit inside with Lumine squirming and writhing softly in surprise beneath her. Her fluffy hair mussed and her undone , rumpled dress covering little more than her belly now. It may be the best dream Mizuki’s ever experienced, and she won't even need to wake up.
“You're doing so good, Traveler. Deep breaths, okay?” She slips a hand beneath her thigh, pulling it upwards, her other hand tracing stimulating circles along her still reddened aerola. All the while, she continues to slowly thrust the purple appendage inside the beautiful girl below her. “You want the rest of it, darling?”
Digging her fingernails into her palms, Lumine nods firmly, managing to mutter out a simple, “Put it in.”
“As you wish.”
The wirey base wriggles as it slowly creeps forward, pushing in inch by tortuously wondrous inch. Massaging her insides with its bouncy movements, jiggling and snapping ever so slightly with each push like a stiffened cord.
It was wholly bizarre, but irrefutably enough for Lumine. Wrapping one arm around the throw pillow behind her head, her other grabs Mizuki’s wrist on her chest with a death grip. Supple hips gently undulating in time with Mizuki's rhythm.
“Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop-...” Digging her fingernails into her wrist, she gasps sharply into the quiet of the office room before her pitch raises several octaves like a keening puppy. Her thighs squirm against Mizuki's sides as her head falls back.
“O-oh, that's…” She slumps against the cushions beneath her, panting softly. Her eyes half-mast and dazed with delirious satiation, a few pricks of sweat visible along her forehead that Mizuki gently wipes away with her hand previously behind her thigh.
“There you go…” Mizuki coos, her tail slowly slipping out from her. “Very good, very good girl. You did amazing.” “You…” Lumine starts, a tad raspy, still not reenergized enough to so much as look directly at her, “You do this to a lot of your patients?"
Mizuki titters, fluffing her cropped strands affectionately, her sullied tail flicking about behind her. “Certainly not. I already told you, it's just for you. Perhaps I should add it to your long-term treatment plan, hm?”
Lumine manages a laugh, flashing her a weak, satisfied smile. “That could definitely be arranged.”
During a private one-on-one meeting with Lumine, Mizuki has a very interesting (and stimulating) use for her tail.
Fingertips as smooth as ephemeral dewdrops had long since loosened the fastens of her halter dress, the thick black straps drooping along her shoulders. The girl above her tracing primly across the delicate skin usually hidden beneath the fabric.
“I feel I should thank you for this opportunity… Allowing yourself to be seen like this… that takes quite a lot of trust… and… vulnerability…”
She trails off as she continues her ministrations. Occasionally stopping to tweak a perky nipple or brush across that sensitive spot she had found on her collarbone that would make Lumine wriggle and tense in that cute way. Mizuki paused, sitting back on her creamy thighs to take a look at the wondrous subject lying prone beneath her.
“I-It’s nothing… don’t mention it…” Lumine mutters, attempting to keep her confidence despite the quickly broiling heat in her stomach.
Mizuki sighs appreciatively, her discordant eyes gleaming with tempered hunger. The spaded end of her tail twitches, and Lumine couldn't help but be enamored with how perfectly it squeezed the milky skin. Mizuki leans back down, pressing a featherlight brush to the tip of her nose, so soft it was nearly imperceptible. Taking a brief second to admire the blush of pink it left on her nose.
"I'd like to administer a more... verbose form of treatment. So just relax. You can do that for me, right?” Not actually needing a verbal answer at this point, she hooks a perfectly manicured fingertip into the edge of Lumine's bloomers, slipping them down her toned legs and gently letting them fall to the ground. Goosebumps prickling the blonde's skin at the cool air kissing her bare skin.
"It's a very special service…” Mizuki murmurs hazily, distracted by the visual feast before her. “...That’s just for you…”
The pad of her finger slips down to her newly exposed slit, gliding along the glistened surface with a coy smile until she reaches the hypersensitive nub perched at the top, rubbing it lazily with the smear of slick wetting her finger. She lifts her gaze back to the Lumine, watching as her eyes fall shut in relieved pleasure.
“That's good, darling? You feel nice?” Her voice is a dreamy susurration that in tandem with the languid movements of her finger, threaten to ruin her shaky composure entirely.
Lumine merely garbles out a terse, “Mhm.” Far too preoccupied with the present circumstance to bother with responding more clearly.
Mizuki hums in response. “Good. Then this should prove to be even more fulfilling for you…” With that, her spindly tail unfurls from around her thigh like a coiled snake on the prowl. She readjusts herself to straddle her lap, those sightly legs strewn across her taut belly while her tail slithers down between her spread legs. The tip is pointed, yet curved enough to warden off any pain as it presses against her heat, teasingly flicking up and down against the collected slick. Humming contentedly, she presses her palms against Lumine's front, slowly creeping one back up towards her breasts as her tail tip begins to press forward experimentally.
Lumine's eye squeeze shut at the foreign sensation against her delicate soft tissue, letting out a high-pitched whimper that reverberates against her clamped shut lips. Mizuki absorbs her reaction carefully, pausing with just about two thirds of the tasselled tip pushed inside. Taking her reaction as a net positive, she continues, popping the last bit inside with Lumine squirming and writhing softly in surprise beneath her. Her fluffy hair mussed and her undone , rumpled dress covering little more than her belly now. It may be the best dream Mizuki’s ever experienced, and she won't even need to wake up.
“You're doing so good, Traveler. Deep breaths, okay?” She slips a hand beneath her thigh, pulling it upwards, her other hand tracing stimulating circles along her still reddened aerola. All the while, she continues to slowly thrust the purple appendage inside the beautiful girl below her. “You want the rest of it, darling?”
Digging her fingernails into her palms, Lumine nods firmly, managing to mutter out a simple, “Put it in.”
“As you wish.”
The wirey base wriggles as it slowly creeps forward, pushing in inch by tortuously wondrous inch. Massaging her insides with its bouncy movements, jiggling and snapping ever so slightly with each push like a stiffened cord.
It was wholly bizarre, but irrefutably enough for Lumine. Wrapping one arm around the throw pillow behind her head, her other grabs Mizuki’s wrist on her chest with a death grip. Supple hips gently undulating in time with Mizuki's rhythm.
“Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop-...” Digging her fingernails into her wrist, she gasps sharply into the quiet of the office room before her pitch raises several octaves like a keening puppy. Her thighs squirm against Mizuki's sides as her head falls back.
“O-oh, that's…” She slumps against the cushions beneath her, panting softly. Her eyes half-mast and dazed with delirious satiation, a few pricks of sweat visible along her forehead that Mizuki gently wipes away with her hand previously behind her thigh.
“There you go…” Mizuki coos, her tail slowly slipping out from her. “Very good, very good girl. You did amazing.”
“You…” Lumine starts, a tad raspy, still not reenergized enough to so much as look directly at her, “You do this to a lot of your patients?"
Mizuki titters, fluffing her cropped strands affectionately, her sullied tail flicking about behind her. “Certainly not. I already told you, it's just for you. Perhaps I should add it to your long-term treatment plan, hm?”
Lumine manages a laugh, flashing her a weak, satisfied smile. “That could definitely be arranged.”
Lumine gets just a bit injured. Scaramouche's response is... about as expected.
"Too rough!"
"Well, too damn bad." Responds the gruff voice in front of her, presently tying a cloth to her leg so hard you'd think he's a boy scout practicing his knot tying, not a concerned partner earnestly attempting to subdue a wound. "Dumbass... couldn't even get this right..."
His belittling mutterings continue on in a similar manner, varying from "Utterly hopeless," to "Reckless numbskull."
With a groan, Lumine slumps against the bark behind her at the continued subjection of mockery before finally speaking up. An outburst of pent-up annoyance.
"Will you just shut the hell up?!"
"..." And he does. Momentarily. The juxtaposed gentility of his fingers against her leg ceasing in turn.
Seconds later, his hand flys up and squeezes her jaw, enough to probably leave a mark. He leans in and stares her down with a gaze that could cut through solid steel.
"Not until you learn some survival skills, you bumbling pest."
She winces, stifling a growl. So few who would even dare to treat her like this, and she chose to stick herself to one of the ones who would... Figures, but that doesn't mean she'll take it sitting down.
"Don't you talk to me about survival instincts. Not with how you've blundered through the last 300 years."
Another pause. His eyes narrow scrutinizingly in response to her defiant stare that he was so accustomed to.
He wants to say something. Doesn't he always? Open that big mouth of his and offer some backtalk. But he doesn't. Because he knows there's little he can actually say to that.
So he roughly relinquishes his grip with a sneer and turns back to her wrapped leg. With one last tug, he finds it serviceable and hoists himself up.
"I better not see you trying to walk on that damn thing. You need something, you call for me, got it?" Scaramouche all but lectures.
"And if you're not in yelling distance?"
"Then you better stay the hell down until I am." She slumps back against the tree with a scoff, before his face winds up in her line of sight once more.
It's calmer this time, thinly veiled concern and sympathy tucked in those dark irises.
He reaches his arms out for her to grab. "Come on. Up."
With a sigh, Lumine reluctantly relents. The knight allowing herself a moment of pampering as her dear vagabond gathers her up in those deceptively strong arms of his until she's cradled against his front. Her cheek pressed against a slim shoulder. Taking care to not knock into her blighted leg, he walks forwards at a slower than usual pace.
He holds her with a softness and consideration few but her would ever know him capable of. Even allowing her to remain beneath the shady solace of his wide brimmed hat as she relaxes. The woes of the world, the agony of lost family, the plights of the people. They all fade amidst the form she was pressed against.
Lumine lets her eyes flutter shut.
If getting injured means contentment and gentle care like this, albeit with crude words, perhaps she should get bodied by Lawlachurls more often.
Aether had promised Albedo some blood samples. A very simple procedure, until he appears to have chickened out.
Fortunately, Albedo has few qualms using some ulterior methods to get what he was promised.
The eminent star. The one who may challenge the will of the world to its very core. A beacon of gleaming hope for all to lift their heads in awe of. A saviour to all he surveys, and a hand to any in need...
...is afraid of needles.
And try as Albedo might to conceal it, the sight in front of him was incredibly amusing. And quite cute. Aether had his knees half to chest, an arm above them hiding his face. A curious act of defiance, but one all the same.
He puts the syringe aside on the wooden workbench, a familar smirk on his mouth as he watches the cowering blonde in front of him.
"...Something wrong?"
Aether slowly lifts his trembling head, apprehension melding into annoyance. He'd recognize that tone anywhere. Smug bastard...
"...Its not funny."
"Oh, but on the contrary, it's quite humourous." He picks up the syringe once more, hooking the ringed handle on his finger and observing it idly. Sure, he really did want those samples, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed by something so endearing.
"Aren't you a little old to be scared of needles? Or do you just happen to be that protective of your blood?"
The glare that earns him in return is nothing short of adorable.
"Neither." Aether retorts sternly. Or at least, as stern as he can appear.
A pause.
"...Fine. Maybe... just slightly... one of them."
Albedo merely chuckles behind his hand holding the instrument, the glint in his eyes nothing short of affectionate despite the joy he was getting at his expense.
Stepping forward, he gently nudges Aether's arm barricade.
"Come on. Come out. There's nothing to be afraid of."
Aether only half obliges. Peering his head out once more, still with a slight glare. Though perhaps a little less pointed. Albedo smiles, absently rubbing his arm.
"I said out. That's not out."
"So?"
"So come out."
It wasn't a demand. Albedo never makes demands. Yet there's a certain authority behind the sentiment that spurred Aether into reluctant agreement anyway.
He slowly unfurled his legs to once more dangle over the workbench, dropping the offending arm back down at his side.
"Happy?" He muttered in a tone amusingly indignant.
Unfortunately for him, it bounced right off his personal phlebotomist. "Quite."
Resting a gloved hand on the table, he leans forward with a smug look so frustratingly unperturbed by the effect it has on poor Aether's heart.
His tone deepens, quieting to just above a husky whisper.
"You didn't quite answer my question, you know."
Aether narrows his eyes like a fussy canine. "...Are you trying to rub it in?"
"Why? Are you embarrassed? There's nothing to be ashamed of, Aether..."
"...We all have our... shortcomings."
"I am not embarrassed."
"No? Hm..."
Considering something, or at least pretending to, Albedo gives him one last once over before turning his head to the side. "Then..."
Seconds later, hot breath prickles the delicate skin of his neck with a teasingly salacious whisper.
"How about now? Does this make you uncomfortable..?"
Pressing his head forward ever so slightly, he brushes his lips against the delicate skin of his throat, fluffy strands of ashy blonde tickling the exposed skin of his shoulders. It's not a kiss, but more than enough of a brush to get the point across.
Aether fingers tightened on the end of the bench. Despite the fruits of Albedo's efforts clearly found in Aether's reddened cheeks, he wasn't about to give in quite that easily.
"Pfft. N-no. Of course not. What do you take me for? I'm the Honorary Knight. The Hero of Liyue, the world renowned Travele-"
Said Traveler's words die in his throat when he feels teeth start to gently sink into his neck, a soft sigh leaving Albedo's throat as his tongue laves across Aether's delicate skin.
"Now t-that's just unf-fair-!"
That spurs another sigh from Albedo, this one feigning annoyance. He pulls his head out to stare back at him, lifting his free hand to press an index finger against his jaw, tilting his head up. "You're talking too much."
Before he could attempt a retort, Albedo leans in, pressing his mouth firmly against Aether's, earning a squeak from the flustered star. His eyes falling shut almost instinctively with a serene moan, following his lead. Movements both mechanical yet artistically sensual. Like he was sketching constellations across his mouth.
Then a second later, there's a pinch on his arm that threatens to break his bliss.
A tiny pricking sensation that could only be from one thing. One certain little needle now pressed into his stretched arm.
All at once, it's gone. Albedo retracts both his mouth and the syringe, leaving a dot of blood, a pair of panting lips, and two little splotches of pink on the pretty blonde in front of him.
He had to admit, he quite liked the sight.
Raising his hand, he displays the now full syringe to a very annoyed Aether.
"See? Wasn't so bad, hm?"
Aether scowls, muttering out two words through his wrecked composure. "Screw you."
The smirk doesn't waver as Albedo turns on his heel, striding off to another part of the quaint lab.
"Given the opportunity, I'd prefer to be the one screwing you."
Lumine gets just a bit injured. Scaramouche's response is... about as expected.
"Too rough!"
"Well, too damn bad." Responds the gruff voice in front of her, presently tying a cloth to her leg so hard you'd think he's a boy scout practicing his knot tying, not a concerned partner earnestly attempting to subdue a wound. "Dumbass... couldn't even get this right..."
His belittling mutterings continue on in a similar manner, varying from "Utterly hopeless," to "Reckless numbskull."
With a groan, Lumine slumps against the bark behind her at the continued subjection of mockery before finally speaking up. An outburst of pent-up annoyance.
"Will you just shut the hell up?!"
"..." And he does. Momentarily. The juxtaposed gentility of his fingers against her leg ceasing in turn.
Seconds later, his hand flys up and squeezes her jaw, enough to probably leave a mark. He leans in and stares her down with a gaze that could cut through solid steel.
"Not until you learn some survival skills, you bumbling pest."
She winces, stifling a growl. So few who would even dare to treat her like this, and she chose to stick herself to one of the ones who would... Figures, but that doesn't mean she'll take it sitting down.
"Don't you talk to me about survival instincts. Not with how you've blundered through the last 300 years."
Another pause. His eyes narrow scrutinizingly in response to her defiant stare that he was so accustomed to.
He wants to say something. Doesn't he always? Open that big mouth of his and offer some backtalk. But he doesn't. Because he knows there's little he can actually say to that.
So he roughly relinquishes his grip with a sneer and turns back to her wrapped leg. With one last tug, he finds it serviceable and hoists himself up.
"I better not see you trying to walk on that damn thing. You need something, you call for me, got it?" Scaramouche all but lectures.
"And if you're not in yelling distance?"
"Then you better stay the hell down until I am." She slumps back against the tree with a scoff, before his face winds up in her line of sight once more.
It's calmer this time, thinly veiled concern and sympathy tucked in those dark irises.
He reaches his arms out for her to grab. "Come on. Up."
With a sigh, Lumine reluctantly relents. The knight allowing herself a moment of pampering as her dear vagabond gathers her up in those deceptively strong arms of his until she's cradled against his front. Her cheek pressed against a slim shoulder. Taking care to not knock into her blighted leg, he walks forwards at a slower than usual pace.
He holds her with a softness and consideration few but her would ever know him capable of. Even allowing her to remain beneath the shady solace of his wide brimmed hat as she relaxes. The woes of the world, the agony of lost family, the plights of the people. They all fade amidst the form she was pressed against.
Lumine lets her eyes flutter shut.
If getting injured means contentment and gentle care like this, albeit with crude words, perhaps she should get bodied by Lawlachurls more often.
