powercloud - lmao
lmao

♡ kass, she/her, 22 ♡

409 posts

Off The Curb-!

Off The Curb-!

off the curb-!

✩ pairing: tartaglia + reader

✩ cw: fem!reader gn pronouns, exhibitionism, mean!childe, dom/sub dynamics, thigh fucking, clit play, degradation, use of word “whore” once, public sex

✩ trashy ending bc I’m lazy 🫶

Off The Curb-!

You don’t think he could possibly get any worse.

“Quit your whining,” He spits across your shoulders, your face smushed against the stone blocks. You flutter your eyes at the incessant drag of his cock between your thighs. The shake of them ignored by the ginger who’s hellbent on making a humiliated mess out of you.

This is incredibly risky, not only is he fucking where anyone could see - but the bastard is slipping his cock between your wet thighs instead of fucking you. Nipping at your exposed neck, slobbering against the skin as he mutters for you to shut up.

Your skirt is hiked down enough for him to slip between and rut against you, bare ass on display as your bitch of a boyfriend teases you to tears. The slope of your back arched into his hands as Liyue harbor’s breeze drifts across your bare skin.

Anyone could see if they stumbled a bit to far into the shaded, cut-off back alley - they’d see the way your hands are splayed on the brick as you clench your legs together. The man behind you gripping your hips as he ruts his sloppy dripping cock between your plushy thighs. His head pressing against your shoulder blade as he drools across your back.

“Tartaglia-“ you start, the distant whine crawling up your throat as you feel the denial and the emptiness pulse in your throbbing cunt. Your clit aching and throbbing as his hot red tip catches each drag. He won’t let you cum, pushing you on the precipice of release and dragging his hips back when you get too close.

“Shut up.” He groans, a gloved hand pressing your face against the hard brick behind you. He’s sure your cheek is getting scratched against the rock but you don’t seem to mind all that much. Mewls slipping from your shiny kissed-bruised lips, hips trying to meet his thrusts and catch his cock inside your folds.

“So damn loud, do you want to get caught?” You moan, feeling the sloppy cherry tip swipe along your drippy puffy clit. Your ass pressed against his pelvis as the man slips in and out between your soft inner thighs, wet schlicking of the sticky mess echoes around the alleyway.

It bleeds into the air of faint nighttime chatter, the smell of grilled tiger fish and lily flower perfume sitting heavy in the air.

His belt buckle presses into the fat of your ass, printing pretty star shape crescents into the flesh. “Fuck- m’so close, so fucking close. Gonna paint your cunt, leave you with cum runnin’ down your thighs.”

You simper, biting the flesh of your lip as you wiggle your ass against him, hoping it might be enough. He’s just a few inches from slipping inside and pounding you to oblivion, and you’re running out of time.

Any moment now a Fauti member could meander past, needing his help. Or a drunk bastard could stumble in and witness you getting thigh-fucked by the harbinger.

“Please, fuck- Tartaglia please,” you’ve got crystalline tears pooling on your lashline, beading down your cheeks as you beg for reprieve. Squeezing your thighs together as tight as you can, pocketing his wet cock.

He brushes across your clit each time, throbbing against it. Silken slit running across the engorged tissue like a sticky kiss, it’s cruel. You feel a tickle behind your neck from his hair and he’s reaching around to slip a hand down to pinch and pull your puffy bud.

“Goin’ stupid from just the tip?” He snarks, lip curled around his teeth as he flashes his gums. His glove is drenched from rolling your clit between his fingers, the fabric soaked and making you tremble. Loosening your hold on his cock that ruts between your legs.

“Tighten up,” he bites, ignoring how you whine that it’s too much when he pets your folds, “close your fucking legs or I’m letting everyone in this city know how much of a whore you are.”

You can’t help the moan that bubbles in your throat, tears spilling over and pouring down your cheeks. Your cheek burns from the brick, face smushed against the wall for so long. You clench your muscles, making a tight sleeve for Childe to fuck himself between. The slick that leaks from your pussy and precum that beads down his slit are perfect for making it easy.

You scratch at the wall, nails dragging down the brick as you thrust yourself down onto him, eyes rolling into the back of your skull at the way your clit pulses and your cunt throbs. “Cumming- shit, I’m cumming-!”

Childe doesn’t stop rubbing circles over your twitchy bud, groaning when you squeal and squirt over his rabbiting length. Hissing as he pushes your face harder into the wall, using his other hand to haul your hip up and watch your ruined cunt as he spills all over it. Milky white making webby strings across your dewy skin, pussy fluttering around nothing.

“There you go, look so good like this.” He mumbles, hands keeping your hips steady as you pant into the air. Dragging a soaked gloved digit up your creamy folds, smiling at how you jump in his hold.

Childe is quickly working your skirt back on and turning you around. He kisses you sloppily before trying to usher you back into you the crowded street but you tug his sleeve.

“What about,” you trail off with a bashful look on your face, ironically. And Childe is sneering down at you,

“What is it sweetheart?”

You squirm, “my panties, you- I have” you squeak all mousey. Childe grins, smoothing out your skirt and cupping your flushed face.

“What? You have you my cum dripping down your legs, is that it?” He coos at you, making mocking baby noises as you push at his impossibly hard chest.

“Shut up, you did this,” you upturn your nose to him, moving to walk out of the alley and the ginger snatches your face in his palm. Catching your cheeks and pushing them outward in a pouty fishy face that makes him grin.

“Watch it,” He warns, navy pupils glinting with a new hint of mischief. “Or I won’t be so nice next time.”

You hope so.

Off The Curb-!
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More Posts from Powercloud

3 years ago
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☁️ talk of the town | with diluc ragnvindr (wc: 730)

cw: soft!diluc, gn!reader, nonsexual intimacy, cuddling n snuggling, brief mentions of insecurities, fluff

a tired diluc is a soft and clingy diluc, you’ve found, but even in his sleepy state, he knows just how to make you feel safe and loved.

this blog contains 18+ content. minors please dni.

image

Keep reading


Tags :
3 years ago

you, yourself (diluc)

You, Yourself (diluc)

pairing - diluc ragnvindr x gender neutral reader

word count - 2552

genre - angst with comfort

format - fic

warnings - changing yourself for the sake of others, crying, one sided discourse

summary - after a long day of work and fueled by exhaustion, diluc impulsively says some things he doesn't mean to you, his lover, and is confused when the next day you aren't acting like yourself and more like him.

a/n - yeah this is heavy. changing yourself to please others really sucks. additional note, the reader is a bit stylized for plot purposes meaning they have a bit of a personality to them but i still hope it makes for a good angsty experience. there'll be more of this topic with the other characters i write for which is why diluc's name is in brackets :)

content under the cut!

You, Yourself (diluc)

if master diluc were to embody wispy shadows and the darkness of night, you were a basket of sunshine and embodied warm, fuzzy bumble bees.

diluc himself wasn't exactly sure how he'd managed to fall at your feet, heart on his sleeve instead of locked away behind his chest. for someone who lives in the dark, you were the end of the tunnel, his bright light. he'd managed to stumble his way into love and yet you welcomed him with open arms, took his hands and said "we'll do it together."

you were no different, always the bubbly and cheerful one you'd found yourself at a loss for words when one day you realized the elusive and mysterious master diluc had captured your heart. in a way his liking to the shadows and quiet demeanor drew you in not unlike a moth to a flame.

you weren't total opposites though, after all a relationship needs to have some middle ground. you both loved chess, private time, and a good book in the early moments of evening when the crickets in the bushes that surrounded dawn winery had yet to come out.

a bit of an "oddball couple" (as kaeya affectionately referred to the pair of you), it wasn't uncommon for many locals to see your hand intertwined with the wine tycoon's as you walked towards angel's share—you rambling on about a pretty butterfly or the like you'd seen during your commissions today, while diluc simply nodded and listened along with a loving smile on his face.

diluc at first was hesitant to reach out to someone so luminous like yourself. where you thrived in light he lurked in shadows and he wasn't all that sure that his affections would manifest into anything meaningful. he can still fondly recall your comment on his perception: "to hell with opposites! i like you, you like me, that's all that matters!" you had said with the biggest grin you had to offer.

and you were right, despite your differences the only fact that mattered was that you loved each other. you both believed so at least.

but as of late, diluc's patience had been running thin. the lack of sleep combined with hours upon hours of work both for his business and for the protection of mondstat left him weary and lethargic. by the end of the week he felt little more than a shell of a man.

today, he'd woken up with a glorious three hours of sleep to his name, left in a hurry without the breakfast you carefully prepared (to which he deeply apologized with a kiss on your cheek), sat through countless boring meetings, and sifted through mountains of transportation and quality check documents.

by the time he was to bartend at angel's share for the night, the exhaustion was visible on his sullen face. the shot glasses in his palms felt as heavy as lead, and though drink orders came in through one end of his ear, they always exited out the other side like the faintest of winds. and something else brewed quietly within the confinements of his mind: anger fueled by exhaustion and frustration. he'd almost snapped at a nearby drunkard but managed to reign himself in, though he didn't know how long he could keep it up.

"maybe you should take a break boss..." diluc was brought back from his thoughts into reality when charles placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"...i'm fine," he meant to mumble, but it emerged from his lips more like a sour grumble.

he turned to resume mixing drinks when your hand came to rest upon his knuckles, stilling his movements.

"actually charles, he'll take you up on that suggestion. come on diluc." you gently pried the glass away from him.

"(y/n)." from his stern eyes and warning tone alone you could tell he wasn't happy with your interjection.

"i'm sorry, but you need some rest, even for just a few minutes." you smiled apologetically and took him by the arm, pushing the back entrance door open in the process.

the cool night air did little to calm the simmering anger and frustration that had been swimming in the deepest pits of his stomach for the past few days. in an attempt to get a grip on himself, he leaned his forearms on the wooden beams and massaged his burning temples with the tips of his fingers.

"feeling better?" with a gentle smile you placed your palm on his shoulder.

"...quite." he grunted, though his grainy voice betrayed his response.

"you don't really think i'd believe that right?" your teasing smile fell when he made no move to reciprocate or validate your comment. "you've been working so hard lately," you paused to collect your thoughts, and tried to pick up the mood with your signature brightness, "but on the bright side at least you've accomplished so much! i'm very proud of you and you should be proud of yourself too." still, no answer from your lover.

heaving a heavy sigh, you spoke up once again. "you're doing your best no matter what, i hope you realize tha-"

"must you always be like this?" the atmosphere suddenly grew cold and bitter, as did his voice.

"be...be like what?" your smile grew confused and began to feel out of place on your face.

"you drag me out here in the middle of a shift and for what- for me to listen to your rambles again?" he sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth and met your puzzled eyes, the ends of his fingers dug into the polished wooden banister in front of him.

"di-"

"there's no end to it is there? you simply ramble on and on and expect me to listen but there's only so much i can take. archons forbid you ever shut your mouth for once." the eyes that had looked at you so fondly this morning now burned with quiet passion, as if the gentle flips of a fan over cooling embers had begun to rapidly move up and down. you stood in utter bewilderment and hurt, each syllable of his words slapping you across the face like a whip.

diluc however, seemed not to notice the utter look of pain on your face. the rims of your eyes began to pool with tears as you desperately looked at him for any sense of rationality.

"diluc could we talk-"

i simply do not have time for this, please excuse me." he scoffed and brushed past you back in through the doors of the tavern.

and all you could do was stand there, watching as his figure retreated past the wooden door, and let his words ferment in your mind as tears cascaded down your face.

the words you so badly wanted to speak got caught in your throat and coagulated in place.

***

diluc doesn't remember how he managed to fumble through his last shift at angel's share, nor does he remember exactly how he somehow stumbled home and flopped into bed still wearing his day clothes. what he does remember is the feel of your hand on his knuckles, and nothing else. everything was a blur mixed in with exhaustion and frustration.

the morning greeted him with an aching spine that sent shoots of pain down towards his legs. unconsciously, his hands stretched out seeking the warmth of your body...

...only to find your side of the bed cold. his eyes snapped open and, though blearily, he scanned the room in search of your figure. perhaps you'd simply gotten up to use the restroom or change clothes. but much to his bewilderment, you were nowhere in sight. your side of the bed had been neatly made. the satchel you usually carried everywhere hung from a nearby rack in the entrance to the bedroom.

confused, he managed to clamber off of his awkward sleeping position from the bed and went about his morning routine. the feeling of going through the motions of his morning felt off without you by his side, reminding him to brush in circles instead of straight lines, or adjusting the broach on his chest while he fumbled with the buttons of your shirt.

he finished up and pulled open his bedroom door, only to jump in surprise when you stood there, fist raised as if you were about to knock.

"good morning." you politely smiled, looking at him with loving eyes.

the minute you opened your mouth, diluc felt a sick feeling crawl up his spine. your voice, it was odd, something he couldn't place his finger on.

"good morning, my love." he pressed a swift kiss to your forehead.

"i've made breakfast." there it was again, your voice. something was wrong, despite the fact that you looked perfectly normal, even your signature smile was on full display.

as if to silently ask you if something had happened, he placed one of his large, warm hands on your shoulder, the other finding solace on your cheek.

"you could have woken me up. i thought you loved my pancakes?" he spared a teasing smile, just for you, but it fell flat quickly. usually you'd make a witty remark or tease him just the same. but instead you simply stood there, that same smile on your face, and took his hand.

"the food will get cold." you spoke quietly, tugging him towards the stairs.

he obliged and followed but the nauseating feeling eating away at diluc's skin hadn't ceased. something was wrong, he could feel it. and yet as you sat down in front of him at the dining table and cut into your waffles, you appeared perfectly normal.

diluc mimicked your actions and stuck his fork into a strawberry. he looked at you expectantly, knowing that during the morning at breakfast, this was where you'd eagerly talk about the activities you had planned for the day. and yet you sat, munching on your waffles surrounded by a thick fog of silence.

he cleared his throat and met your eyes. "darling, what do you have planned for the day?" instead of going on an animated rollercoaster of dialogue like you usually did, you merely shrugged your shoulders and stuck another bite of waffles into your mouth. diluc frowned, now he knew something was up.

when breakfast had finished, he tried to pull you aside from the hustle and bustle around the winery but you took off with the excuse of needing to get to the guild early.

while he went through the motions of his day, he couldn't get his interactions with you out of his head. diluc hadn't feel the presence of that spark you held that he loved so much. what remained felt cold, and empty. it was quite unlike you to hold your tongue and keep your voice down, it bothered him to no end.

while he sat through meetings, the only face he saw was your eerily calm one. while signing documents, he could only remember the unusual quietness of your voice. these thoughts taunted him all throughout the day, he ended up abandoning what little work he had done in order to catch you before you scurried off towards another commission.

luckily for him, he caught you just as you were cashing in your last commission as dusk began to fall.

"(y/n) i'd really like to have a word with you." he panted, having run all the way from the winery to mondstat. one of his hands perched itself his knee and the other softly gripped your elbow. you nodded and let him lead you to the lake behind mondstat's walls.

"is something the matter my love? you've barely spoken a word." with both hands he took your face into his palms and thumbed your cheeks. his brows furrowed, creasing in the middle, the worry no longer held closed behind the cages of his mind.

you heaved a deep sigh and cast your gaze towards the grassy floor coated in the last remaining rays of sunlight, in favor of staring into his searing red eyes.

"i'm just a bit scared." you mumbled, reaching up to grip his charcoal coat. "scared? of what? have you been threatened?" you couldn't help but silently laugh to yourself and shook your head rapidly.

"no, none of that. i just...wish not to upset you." dumbfounded, diluc could only look at you with confused eyes.

and suddenly he felt his heart drop to the deepest pits of his stomach. the words he'd spouted towards you out of pure frustration and exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks as he looked through the fog that clouded his memory. concern and worry replaced themselves with an enormous wave of guilt as his horrified face looked towards you.

"(y/n) i- i can't believe i said that i-..." his grip from your shoulder slackened as he stepped back, raising a hand to his mouth as the guilt in his stomach swished and swayed like a torrential stormy sea. you fumbled with your hands, a bit at a loss for words.

"i just wanted to make sure you were okay...i didn't mean to make it worse...i'm sor-"

"no, no. do not apologize, i'm the one who should be groveling at your feet for forgiveness." he interrupted you, running his gloved hand through his frazzled locks.

"diluc..." you took his hand that had been gripping his mouth and held it in both of yours. "i won't lie, what you said hurt me deeply. but i know you were just exhausted and-"

"no, please. don't make excuses for me. i've made a mistake (y/n), but i promise you," his burning hands found their way into yours, gripping them with a passion you'd never seen in him before, "i meant none of those words. i love listening to you, i love your voice- archons you have the most lovely voice. please, even if you are to leave me i ask that you never hold your tongue-" he opened his mouth to speak more but you cut him off by slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you in a comforting hug.

"i won't leave you diluc." you mumbled into his shirt.

diluc's hands hovered in the air before holding you to his body in a desperate grip. "i deeply apologize, no words could ever describe how sorry i am that you heard those vile words from me, my love." you felt his trembling lips fall upon your temple, then your cheek. you pulled your face back to look him in the eye only to find tears running down his burning face. with a smile—a genuine smile—you rose your hands up and wiped away the streaks from his face.

"thank you, i really appreciate the apology." you pressed your forehead against his and brushed your noses.

he buried his face in the crook of you neck and breathed words you only rarely ever heard from him: "i love you." of course, you never needed to hear him say it to know how he felt, but whenever he did say it, he made sure to save it for just the right moment.

"i love you too diluc, thank you." you planted a kiss in his hair and buried yourself deeper into his embrace.

You, Yourself (diluc)

date published: june 25th, 2021

3 years ago

I love your cat reader and Gorou fic!! It's so cute and fun and the with mentioning heats it got my mind spinning

Like imagine being in heat and having Gorou gently groom/coddle you to help distract you from the pain and get the attention you craved 🥺 I just think it'd be super cute

a/n: Anon you made me go research about cat heat symptoms and effects- hnnngggshhdj honestly such a cute idea!!! I love it so here's a brainrot. Although I did research about heats, im changing it a bit for the fic to work. please don't use this as a basis for what your cats are good through.

notes: istg it's a SFW brainrot, heats, Kätzlein Reader (Diona's cat bloodline), mutual pining!! sleep deprived work

masterlist | based on this drabble and this brainrot

Heats & Distractions (Cat!Reader x Gorou) SFW

Being a part of the Kätzlein clan had its difficulties; from controlling your natural instincts in front of your human comrades to dealing with your addiction to catnip, you handled them all through life long practice and discipline.

There are times when you have to keep your impulses in check though. Things like pouncing on birds and taking random naps were easily controlled — but other things, like reminding yourself that the ingrained feeling of danger around your general was just your cat side talking, was a bit more difficult to deal with.

Another issue was your heat. As the season of spring blossoms around Inazuma, your body begins to heat up in discomfort. It started as a numb ache in your lower stomach. The ache wasn't exactly painful, but it was bothersome enough to distract you from focusing on your tasks.

You keep dropping things and stumbling, mind hazy from heat and feeling constantly distracted. Kazuha's worried about you; He has an arm around your shoulder, taking your things instead and asking if you're feeling alright.

You reassure him that you're fine, just tired. You're a little shy about admitting that it's your heat. He encourages you to take a break in the medical quarters and before you could register where he's leading you, you're already on the way.

You don't want to go to the medical, though. They don't exactly have anything that could help you and revealing your... situation to any of the nurses and soldiers would only warrant teasing and jokes from the immature ones.

It was Gorou who stops you and Kazuha. He's standing in front of you two, eyeing you up and down. Kazuha explains the situation that you weren't feeling well and you, again, say you're fine.

Gorou sighs and brushes a hand through his hair, before taking you by the wrist away from the medical. "They're fine, Kazuha,"

Kazuha confusingly protests at his friend, but Gorou quickly turns to whisper to him.

"It's... a hybrid thing. It's spring." Gorou says and Kazuha, with realization dawning on his face, nods and lets you go with the general.

You're both alone now, in a corner by the training area when he stops to look at you again.

"Why are you out? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I really am fine! I'm not sick. Kazuha's overreacting-"

"You do know I could smell your heat from a mile away?"

You freeze, mouth agape as you stare, blush rising to your face. He knew? Your long time crush since you arrived in the resistance knew? You didn't think it would be that obvious to another hybrid of a different species but it was slightly embarrassing.

"I thought I could ignore it!" You groan, admitting your situation, "It doesn't hurt much but I- just so-" You mutter off, dizzy.

Gorou sighs, "Let's get you to your barracks. As your general, I'm putting you on bed rest for the next few days. Or whatever long this takes."

You blush, following along as he guides you to your personal quarters.

Most days, you really were fine! Taking walks around the area and helping patrol, other days, you were a whining mess, purring and pawing at your bedsheets in discomfort. Had you been back in Mondstadt, perhaps you could've found ways to alleviate the symptoms from your clan, but here you were a thousand miles away fighting a dictatorship.

What you didn't expect was for the general to visit your quarters every so often. The first time he entered with a plate of salmon from the kitchen, your ears and tail perked up in excitement.

Forget the fact that your natural mortal enemy slash crush was in your room — he brought you salmon! He would sit by your bed, chatting about what was going on in the army. To you, it sounded like he was a soldier giving his daily reports, which you found funny considering he was the general.

It was when you realized how helpful it was as a distraction from the numbing ache did you learn to fully appreciate his presence.

Of course, heats don't usually go so smoothly. It was a particularly bad night when you crumpled yourself in bed, arms wrapping around your waist as the ache was starting dull your senses. You needed to feel something, anything to ground yourself back from your dizzy state.

Gorou walked in that night with a can of tuna. Something that was promptly ignored and left on your bedside as he rushed over to you. His hands gently on your shoulder.

"Hey hey, I'm here. You okay?" He worriedly thinks back to his own heats. He usually goes through them just fine, with the war being a good distraction, but he isn't sure how much dog heats and cat heats resemble in terms of treatment. He wasn't quite sure what to do for you.

"G-gorou!" You quietly sob, "I hate this! I- I need something- stimuli-!" Your hand reaches out to grip on his top. He sits on your bed, brushing away the strands of hair from your face.

"It's okay, you're okay," He reassures you, patting your head.

Your grip on his loosened as he brushes against your ears. A silence settles itself between you. He rubs both your ears gently, warm and calloused hands softly massaging the sensitive muscles. You sigh in relief, unconsciously snuggling up to his abdomen.

"Lay down with me," You mumble after a while of his massage. You were in a daze now, an almost drunken state of exhaustion from dealing with your heat. Gorou looks at you hesitantly before laying down next to you.

Your long tail finds its way on his stomach. He figures you wanted him to pet it as he carefully brushes through the fur.

"Don't you go through this too?" You ask, attempting to start a casual conversation. Your eyes were closed as you cuddle up to his side.

"Yeah but it's already over," He tells you, turning his head to look at you. Both your faces closer than necessary.

"I guess you don't have it as bad?" You giggle and he notices how much he likes the sound of your laugh.

"Not exactly. I mean, Kazuha and her excellency would help distract me whenever it gets too bad. But I guess you can say I know how you feel."

Suddenly, you groan and look up the ceiling, "This wouldn't be a problem at all if we had mates!"

"W-what!" Gorou sits up, face turning red.

"What? Why so blushy, general? I mean, wouldn't it be easier to go through heats with a lover-" You laugh, sitting up as well, "Unless... you were thinking that I wanted us to be mates-"

"No! Of course not," His ears twitch frantically, hands dropping your tail, "I m-mean, we're friends! And you're part cat, I'm part dog, don't you think that's kind of... I don't know, weird?"

He doesn't notice the way your smile drops from your face. You gaze away from him, voice turning low into a whisper.

"... Is it really that weird?" You mumble and he's looking back at you as you look anywhere but back at him, "For a cat and dog to be together?"

Gorou tilts his head confusingly. He gets a feeling that something has shifted in the air, like he said something wrong but he isn't quite sure what. "Wouldn't it be? They're complete opposites in terms of their nature." He says.

Your eyes linger on him before you break out into a small laugh, "I guess it does sound weird! Besides, as you've said-" You flop back down your bed, "We're just friends."

"Ah- yeah..." Gorou isn't sure how the situation turned awkward. He's unsure whether he should lay back down on your bed either.

"Thanks for comforting me with my heat, but you should really go now," You say, picking up the forgotten can of tuna next to your bed.

Gorou quietly leaves your quarters that night. When he walks back to his barracks, eyes on the wide night sky, he thinks back to your form snuggling to him.

He thinks of your face that was unnecessarily close to for friends; of your shared whispers that were too intimate between a general and his soldier.

Gorou doesn't understand cats. He doesn't understand why his heart feels heavier than usual either.

note: I didn't mean for this to be angst but here we are. fun fact! but the heat scene was actually inspired by something that happened during my period. I get really bad cramps, one time I was puking and heaving terribly, i couldnt even lie down properly without sobbing in pain. my ex stayed by me that time and grounded me whenever i get dizzy.


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3 years ago
And He Listens Anyway.
And He Listens Anyway.

And he listens anyway.

(Not ship) Pillow Diluc and armrest Kaeya (real).


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3 years ago

green thumb

request from anon - "requests for dendro!reader and scara? aaaa maybe a small scenario/set of hcs or something, where the reader teaches scara how to be patient with plants n stuff? gardening? maybe they guide his hands with theirs when he’s being a little… aggressive? something to do with the nurture of plants, maybe?"

a/n - gugughgh this is the cutest thing ever oh my godhggbfk i'm MELTING /pos !!! you got it nonnie, one gardening post coming right up! :D

Green Thumb

S/O IS THE DENDRO ARCHON VOL 2 (KAEYA, SCARAMOUCHE, AND DAINSLEIF) (would help for context if you’ve read scaramouche's part in this before reading this drabble!)

Green Thumb

pairing - scaramouche x DENDRO ARCHON!gender neutral reader

word count - 2014

genre - fluff

format - headcanons + drabble

warnings - skinship, established relationships, spoilers for scaramouche's identity (found in the 2.1 archon quest), not beta read! (might be some editing errors)

summary - in an attempt to further his bond with you, scaramouche takes it upon himself to learn the art of caring for flowers

Green Thumb

"gentle" isn't exactly a word that scaramouche would describe himself with

he didn't concern himself with keeping up appearances that didn't paint him as a terrifying force to be reckoned with

after all: he's the sixth harbinger, and a harbinger who appears weak loses their authority and power

but there's a slight exception: you

all he really had to do was let his lithe fingers brush against the cool crystal of the gem that clung to his earlobe and he'd be red in the face and soft in the eyes

not even factoring in that your touch drove him to the brink of insanity and back

and though you've shown him nothing but beautiful blue skies and lingering morning touches bathed in sweet honey, he can't help but feel like he hasn't done very much for you

it's always him who stumbles in at precarious hours, all bloodied and bruised and asks you to heal him with you vision

and it's you who takes initiative to touch and hold him; to form beautiful flowers from your hands and weave them through his locks

compared to him you were softer than the delicate petals of a rose and somehow seemed to read him like an open book

though he'd never admit to the insecurities that ate him up alive at night when he's tangled up in your arms, he still resolves himself to try and do something for you

because though he struggles to show it: he really does love you more than anything else in this wretched world

continued utc!

Green Thumb

you adored your flowers; adored the sweet smell of roses in their brightest bloom and little daffodils that begun to sprout from the green grass of the estate's land. on days that he was able to return home to your arms, he'd usually watch from afar as you tended to your ever-growing field of flowers and timbering trees that you had sprouted from the ground with careful hands and attentive eyes shrouded in a mossy hue.

scaramouche had never truly known what beauty and mysticality were until he laid eyes upon you in your craft; threads and spools of vines crawling up from the ground to weave around your arms and nestle at your shoulders where fluffy, snow-white birds sat chirping cheerfully away at your ears. divinity was scorned and scorched in his eyes; the picture of malice yet you were no gentler than the roll of ocean waves at the crack of dawn.

and it was that picture—your stunning visage bathed in the glow of nature that made his heart pound and throb against his chest.

if only being close to nature made him feel the same way that you do.

"these cursed," he scowled as he threw the cloth satchel of seeds to the ground, "wretched-" this time, the gardening trowel was flung to the earth, "ridiculous plants!"

the small bed of dirt he had dug up in the backyard was perfect in every sense except for the practical sense—practical being that the grown tulips he'd bought were accidentally ripped by the stem from their roots and now useless (since no one had informed him that yes, the roots are crucial). the soil he'd bought from a wandering merchant seemed rancid and unusable, the ferns delivered from natlan had wilted by the time they reached inazuma, and the rose seeds he bought had troublesome caring instructions that would put even a fontanian engineer to shame.

despite wanting to produce something of note for you, who could grow an entire field of flowers with a wave of your hand, it seems he failed in his task and that fact alone made his blood boil.

"darling? what are you doing?"

he whipped his head around to find you standing with a curious look on your face, arms crossed over the span of your chest as you tried to peer at the work he had done in the yard with a smile on your face.

"nothing, i am doing absolutely nothing." he grumbled and rose from the ground to face you with a scowl, "shouldn't you be out right now? or did you finally get tired of that puny, little town?"

"now, now," your hand rose to tenderly smooth back the frazzled strands of hair that fell in his face, "don't talk so rudely about the people, my love. i simply got what i needed in town and returned home early. though, this is quite the surprise. haven't you said before that gardening is a task far below a harbinger?"

"i've said many things before." he mumbled as he drew you close and pressed a kiss to the gem that hung from your ear, letting his fingers skim just over the shell of your ear.

"that you have. well, are you going to explain to me what you're doing, or will you continue glaring at my poor trowel?" you giggled and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.

he chewed the inside of his cheek and cast his eyes to the side, unable to meet your gaze. how low he's sunken—one of the most feared harbingers now a bumbling fool in love who couldn't admit to his defeated feat before you.

"love? what's happened?" your thumb brushed airily beneath his eye and quelled the nervous jumping of his stomach.

he muttered lowly, "i wanted to plant flowers for you," before planting his head into the juncture where your shoulder and neck met.

"oh my, is that all?" he felt you heave a sigh breathily—most likely out of relief—and sank further into his arms, "why didn't you ask me? you know that's an area i'm proficient in."

"i...i wanted...i-," he sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth before pulling his face from your neck and gripping your shoulders within his hands. there was no doubt that his face was burning bright red but he'd always push aside his pride for you.

"i wanted to show you that i love you!"

a beat passed, then two, and suddenly he was regretting his honesty and the silence was far too loud for his ears. the noon sun beat down on his skin and made him want to crawl underground and burrow.

"scaramouche, my love, look at me. let me see your eyes." you called for him just under your breath, hands moving to cup his cheeks and tilt his head towards you.

a tender expression blanketed your face, eyes swimming with an unshed gloss of tears and a warbled smile on your face,

"you always, always show me you love me," he nearly hummed beneath your touch; your hands felt so warm and smooth as they caressed his face and brushed aside the sweaty bangs that stuck to his forehead.

"and if i've ever given you reason to doubt that you do then i'm truly so sorry-"

"no! nothing like that." scaramouche scowled, tongue desperately trying to find the words to convey to you what he meant.

"you're so unlike me—so kind and warm, and i am...i..."

"you worry that i don't receive the same affection from you just because of our different displays of it?"

curse you for reading his mind—he'd have to hound you later on whether or not all the archons (or former archons, in this case) held the divine power to read minds.

"don't forget—wisdom is not only academic, it's also personal." you giggled and placed the palm of your hand onto his chest. he scowled but he hoped you knew that he wasn't mad or irritated, not with the way the tips of his ears glowed.

"you little minx," he jeered and pinched the soft of your cheek with a malicious grin on his face, "you could've spared me the formalities if you knew what i was saying and i would've made you squirm instead."

he bit back a laugh when you squealed and gently hit his knuckles to yield his pinches of doom.

"well i am your minx after all." you mumbled with a smile as you rubbed your cheek to soothe the dull ache.

"that you are, never forget it."

he took your hand within his despite the dirt that dusted them and ran his thumbs along your knuckles.

"scaramouche, do you know how loved i feel when i'm with you?" you hummed and squeezed his hands.

before he could reply, you urged him to stoop down to his poor, sorry excuse of a flower bed and picked up a rose seed from the discarded cloth bag with your free hand.

"you may not tell me you love me verbally, but i can feel it in how you hold me and all that you do for me—like that time you demanded that poor fontanian painter redo my painting because apparently she got my eyes wrong." you giggled at the snarl that spread across his face.

"what, you think i would let her depict you in any other way than you are? ridiculous, the nerve of that painter. i should've had her blacklisted from the industry." he grumbled and squeezed your hand.

"see?" you bumped your shoulder with his and smiled, "that is how you show me love. and that is how i feel your love. you may consider yourself no more than a puppet but i know that your heart is tender and kind and so full of love. i only wish that you have more faith in yourself as well, my love."

the rose seed in your hand began to glow a gentle green—it suddenly shot up, a spark of green from the seed, and blossomed so quickly into a beautiful, healthy, purple rose.

"this," you peered at him with hearts engraved in your eyes as you gestured to the rose, "is how you make me feel. forever and always."

it was uncharacteristic of him to get shy, and surely if he had his hat he'd use it to cover the blush that spread across his face as you tucked the thornless rose behind his ear. a "thank you" was on the tip of his tongue and yet he couldn't muster enough strength to say two little words that most likely would've meant so much to you.

but somehow you seemed to know either way, and he'd take a guess that you'd managed to study all his body and the language it speaks well enough to know what his mind speaks.

you tossed the bag of seeds to him and squeezed his hand, "would you like to help me plant the rest of these, darling?"

"if you insist i must." grumbled as his response might be, his heart was overjoyed and there was no denying the small smile that embedded itself onto his lips.

any time he felt the doubt of his worth crawl back up to bite and tingle at the nape of his neck, he remembered this moment: the moment where, as he flung the tulip with no roots to the ground in the heat of frustration, you stood beside him, moved behind him, placed your hands over his to guide him to plant the tulip with much more gentle hands than he would've ever done so as you breathed life back into the tulip and regrew its roots.

similarly, you breathed life back into him and allowed him to grow new roots within your arms.

from that moment on, scaramouche often accompanies you when you delve into your craft and return outside to garden

sure, he's not the handiest of men with flowers and your poor, poor cecilias are sometimes squashed unknowingly between his hands (because what harbinger can really control their strength?)

but he learns and he's quick to learn when your hands take his and guide him to be gentle with fresh daisies and soft ferns

and just like the spring that comes and brings new winds on the horizon, he finds himself falling more and more in love with the god who smiles among their flowers and sings songs to both him and the turtle doves that sit just outside his window

Green Thumb

date published: april 7th, 2022


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