Mistletoe Mishaps | Scaramouche X Reader

. [❥] Kaedehara Kazuha x Reader

. [❥] still 3.3 Akitsu Kimodameshi event and making out with kazuwa in chinju forest. No beta, unedited. Fluff.

There is that hidden mischievous nature of kazuha that drives you insane and his inability to hold back when it comes to riling you up. He isn't as docile as his face lets on and often times uses it to his advantage.

Though his calm and composed poise may have attributed to this common misconception, you're not so easy to be deceived but it's no hard work for Kazuha to string you along his little mind games.

That enchanting pull of his lips when he comes close just within kissing distance and yet not exactly granting you even the lightest of peck on your lips. When you're desperately inching forward, he pulls back just a little bit. He's teasingly dangling that promised temptation just within your reach.

You can feel him smile through the warm puff of his breath fanning your cheeks. This almost made you whine, scrambling closer on his lap, hands fisting against his clothes.

"Kazuha... Please..."

When you beg, his hand around your waist, rubs sensually against your back as if in consolation. The pad of his palms follows along your spine as it dips inside your shirt. Heat follows his touch that makes something blossom from within you.

Kazuha grants you amnesty with a trail of kisses to your jaw, his soft and warm lips making contact with your skin. It's a little wet and you can feel his devilish grin when he retreats from your glare.

In the distance, you hear a scream followed by frantic footsteps running in different directions and you cling tightly against Kazuha. Both of your hands circling around his shoulders as your eyes try to look for the source.

"Relax." You hear him whisper, his smooth voice making you shudder in delight. He must have felt your apprehension. "No one can see us here."

Kazuha's hand begins to wander upward, sliding from your hips, to your sides, until he's cupping your cheeks. His thumb is rubbing circle against your cheek, where heat begins to rise, and lays upon your lower lip and wipes it. He presses against your body, wanting to be as close as possible, and tilts his head to aim for a kiss.

After what felt like forever, you feel the languid sway of his lips on you, breathing what's left of the oxygen you have at the lightheaded kiss he's offering in apology for the tease. It's patronizing, the way he moves and knowing exactly how you want it to be. He savors every touch to bask in the intimacy and desire to be alone together after quite a while that he's been away overseas.

You follow along his tango, missing him just the same as your hand comes up behind his neck, fingers digging through the soft tresses of his hair.

You hear another shout and the sharp voice of Paimon followed by another round of what seems like a fight. It's quite faraway but that doesn't stop you from worrying that you might get caught as you try to bury yourself as closely as you can against Kazuha. He chuckles against your lips and squeezes you in a hug as if telling you to focus.

"I can't believe this-" you try to speak through the kiss. "-is how I'll be spending my most awaited day off."

You humm softly feeling delirious and lightheaded. You're getting out of breath, heart racing wildly against your chest, and yet you still can't quite get enough of him as you pull him closer and closer to you.

Kazuha's tempo begins to pick up as he tries to keep your mouth shut. He can hear Aether and Paimon slowly making their way to where you are. It's like the torch of avarice had been ignited inside him that he's feeling the urgency. He's groping all over your body, touching more and more with fervor.

"Do you think the dango milk is around here?" You picked up Paimon's voice and you're pushing yourself up from Kazuha's lap who refuses to let go of your hand. "Oh! Is that-"

Suddenly, you're hearing Paimon calling out for your name, finding your spot in a dense area of trees.

"We've been looking all over for the dango milk but we can't find it! What about you two? Any success from your search?"

Aether glances at you then moves to Kazuha who's slowly standing from his spot in narrowed eyes as if he knows exactly what you were doing. Kazuha is nonchalantly dusting off whatever dirt that might be clinging to his clothes and shoot the two a soft smile.

You cough against your fist to hide your blush and straighten out your clothes as discreetly as you can from the gazes of the two.

One thing is only certain from what Aether could see, Kazuha is definitely on a different kind of search.

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rules of rationality.

summary: You’re one of the few people Alhaitham trusts to take care of him when he’s injured.

notes: 1.5k words, fic, mentions of injuries + blood, slight suggestive content

He always comes to you when he’s injured. 

Alhaitham never explains why, and you know better than to ask. He simply shows up at your door, methodically reciting his list of potential injuries, as you guide him to the couch and press gauze and disinfectant on his wounds. 

There could be any number of reasons that he’s been hurt, though you had joked that you didn’t think being the Akademiya’s Scribe was such a dangerous job when you first met him. Now, you think that it’s less of his job that’s the cause of all his little altercations, and more of a symptom of his personality. 

“You might need stitches,” you say. “I recommend going to a doctor.”

Keep reading

#i love you, goodbye

—when they were about to confess their love… but you died / when they fail to confess to you

CHARACTERS. Albedo, Al-Haitham, Cyno, Gorou, Kazuha, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Xiao; gn! Reader

THEMES. main character death, angst, no comfort

WARNINGS. death (ofc), will not be too graphic

NOTES. still severely sick and stressed so here ya go. grab ur tissues i didn’t hold back in this one.

XIAO knew what love was—knew the affection he held to his brothers and sisters, and the love that emanated from the humans towards each other.

“You do know that humans… humans are very fragile, Xiao.”

He continues to bow his head in front of his god as he agrees, “I do.”

Zhongli said nothing more, but Xiao knew what he meant. It was advice. And a warning.

“Xiao!” You always called him with that beautiful voice of yours, ever so sweet, ever so tender as you bless him with your bright smile—a sun.

You are his sun.

“Xiao!” His heart would flutter once more—why do you have such an effect on him?—but at that point, he knew that no matter how hard he tried or tries to move away, your pull on him was strong, far stronger than the chains that were wrapped around his ever so fragile heart.

“Xiao…” it was on the third call that he decided to show up. He had been fighting enemies for the first two ones, and besides, you usually call him to merely see him or “hang” with him—a word you’d use as you try to lean into his side, your skin brushing his hands—so close yet not tied to each other.

He showed up, but he was far too late.

He was wrong.

“Y/n!” he calls your name this time—shouts it as he quickly approaches your figure.

“Y/n…” he pulls your body to his, empty and hollow, devoid of the same bright sunlight plastered in your face, the same beaming smile and shining eyes that could light up the night—light up his whole world.

“Y/n…” he wanted to say how he loves you so, how you bring out the best of him, and how he wanted to thank you for everything, for your patience, your presence, your love, your mere existence in his karmic-filled life.

But you were not there to hear anything of it.

And so he cries—cries under the same heavens that also took his brothers and sisters, cries because he couldn’t be there to save you when you were probably hurting, and he cries because of his own weakness—how he could love and always have that same love be taken away from him.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

SCARAMOUCHE has had many betrayals.

But yours probably hurts the most.

“What happened?”

He glared at the Fatuus in front of him, kneeling on their knees with their heads bowed down in shame.

He crouches into one of them and sends daggers with his gaze, “I asked what happened here.”

The Fatuu trembled upon the sound of his voice, “M-my lord… it happened so suddenly, we couldn’t-their sickness-“

“Useless!” He releases a strike of his power and his subordinates immediately move to dodge, but they couldn’t walk away, not when they know that in the end, they can never run away from the Sixth Harbinger.

Yet unexpectedly, he trudges forward, to the big tent that laid in the middle of the camp, his footsteps and breathing heavy, hands trembling—of anger? Of fear?

No. A divine being such as him doesn’t tremble of fear.

Even when his knees give up beside the bed where you currently lay peacefully, even if he tries to control the tears that threaten to escape his eyes, he reaches for your hands.

Cold. So cold—like the night where he picked up the stars and called you as his—his star.

But it seems stars do die as well.

Pathetic.

And he’s even more pathetic to believe that humans will never betray him—that you never would.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

VENTI sings of love to you, yet today marks the day that he shall confess outrightly—genuinely, with a promise of tomorrow’s kisses and hugs.

“Shhh, darling. No need to worry for me,” he smiles, “rest now. Shall I sing you a lullaby?”

He catches you forcing your own smile, and it pains him how you raise your hand and touch his cheek, which he holds and presses your palm on his skin, as if he was trying to transfer the warmth he has towards your frail form.

“Venti…” you let out your voice, hoarse and weak, “you knew… didn’t you?”

He purses his lips and his chest aches.

“You don’t have to… act like you love me too.”

He fails to catch his own tears, dribbling down his cheeks as he struggles to find the words.

“I-“

“I love you... But please don’t… pretend… for me.”

He squeezes your hand, and just as he was to utter the same words you did, to confess those three words that laid stuck in his throat—

“Y/n?” Instead, it was your name that he attempted to call, then he shook you, only to receive no word back.

“I…” I love you too—he wanted to say, but it died down. Once again.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

There is danger in the forest, just as much as there are things to discover and admire. That is what TIGHNARI used to say to you.

It was a flora, a flower he had asked you to try and find—the same ones he was collecting for you, a suggestion from Collei for him to profess his love to you.

Let’s get this over with, he thinks. After all, he does love you, and it was an idea that seemed fairly interesting, to ask you to look for a flower and for him to give you the whole bouquet once you reach his side.

The thing is, you never did.

He was silent when he reached the village, his ears downwards as nobody dared to approach him. It was the aura he emitted, the faint heaviness of his footsteps, and the body that he held close to his own.

“Master-“ Collei tries, but someone else stops her, shakes their head as the girl merely frowns. How could this be? She begins to think, one minute you were there and the second…

“Collei,” she casts her thoughts aside as Tighnari finally speaks, yet he doesn’t turn to face them, halted in front of his abode as he adds on, “can you… prepare some water… to clean their wounds.”

“O-of course!” Her heart was pounding, but no matter how unprepared she was to see you-

“I’ll do the rest… don’t worry.” He says before he enters the hut, all alone.

He did not shed a single tear as he cleans your body. But nobody can ever know Tighnari’s cries as he holds his tail close to him, aching for the warmth that you once gave him.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAZUHA’s poems always reach you. No matter how much distance he takes away from you, or crosses to go back into your arms, his poems and his flowery hidden confessions of love always reach your ears.

At the right time, he begs to himself, he will finally be able to say them to your face, when he could rid himself of the shackles of his past and live freely with you.

But those same shackles come and haunt him once again. In the form of yours.

“What happened?”

“I’m sorry… but they were attacked by Hilichurls and…”

“No one was there to save them.” Even as he says the words, there was this ache in his chest and prickle on the tips of his fingers, finally reaching out to your cold hand.

Death is a familiar face for Kazuha, but there is something far too different this time.

This time, he thought he had healed. He thought he was stronger. He even went away for it—only to come back with those same wounds and no one there waiting for him.

He places a kiss on your hand once he finds himself leaned over, unable to go without saying his last goodbye.

“In another life… Y/n,” he whispers in the wind, as if he could feel your presence there, and despite finding it difficult to look at your face without seeing your beautiful eyes and smile, he forces himself and says, “In another life… my dove.”

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

GOROU is a good General.

Anyone who was under him can attain to such, and even you. You respected him so much, trusted him so much.

And loved him so much.

“Gorou!”

He was right in front of you, you were right in front of him. The blade pierces through your body, but it feels like it has pierced his heart as well.

“No, no, Y/n—no!”

“Protect the General and Y/n!” The other soldiers went and gathered around both of you, shielding you both from the upcoming arrows and spears your way.

“Y/n… no, don’t-“ he cries, unable to stop the tears that drip down his eyes.

“General, you have to take them out of here.”

Gorou finally finds the courage to carry you and rush his way to the side, out of reach from the battlefield.

“Retreat!”

As the shouts with the same word echoed around him, he could only hear your voice and feel your touch that reached his ears, that despite your weakening strength, you showed him that smile of yours—no matter how forced or painful it must have been.

“Gorou..”

“No, don’t speak, you don’t have to-you’ll be okay-“

“I’m sorry,” you say as he shakes his head, unable to accept the apology, “I’m sorry I had to die like this.”

“No, you won’t die-you can’t die!” He still has something to say—a lot of things to say. You can’t die now! Not when-

“I love you,” you whisper, out of breath, “so much.”

Those were your last words. And no matter how many soldiers had perished under his command, yours held a hole in his heart that he can never fill—a hole that even a good General can never heal.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

Everyone feared CYNO—his voice, his face, his spear, his very name, his wrath.

Oh how wrong they were to assume they had seen his wrath—because only until now had he shown it in an intensity no one could have imagined.

“What did you do?” He sneers, scarlet eyes glaring down, only to grab the clothes of the Mercenary, pulling him up without difficulty, “What did you do?”

The Mercenary chuckles despite the predicament he was in. “What? Failed to profess your love to the feeble thing?”

Everyone knew. Every single person in Sumeru knew that you were one of the people who the Great General Mahamatra cherished—probably much more than the few others. After all, you were the one who always stuck beside him, sometimes hiding behind a rock as he fought, or a bush when he talked to someone.

“Shut up! You don’t deserve to even mention them.” Cyno grits his teeth.

“So, I hit the nail, didn’t I?”

The Mahamatra throws the Mercenary away as he closes his fingers into fists.

He may never be able to bring you back.

But he can bring justice to your death, and nobody can ever escape the grasps of Cyno.

Except for you.

You slipped away before he can even tell you what he wanted to say, and now, there was no turning back.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AL-HAITHAM never regrets.

Regret is an emotion he had found to be so useless, and with that experimental mind of his, mistakes are merely normal, and if there was no point or way to try again, he can just discard the plan.

But there was no way he could discard you.

“It’s the Scribe!”

Everyone’s murmurs overcome the hall and he frowns even more.

How could he be so… unplanned with this.

“Scribe, we saw their body when-“

He motions for them to go away, and wordlessly, they do, quite remarkable, he thinks. But maybe, it was their pity—was he obvious? Of course, he was. He had tried so hard to amuse you, to make you feel his feelings despite the outer appearance and expression he had always kept. But you were as dense as a rock.

And unfortunately, he was wrong this time around.

“So this… is what regret feels like.” he mutters the words as he spares you his last glance, his last words, and his last time, all before he goes and turns away, an ache in his chest that he knew but can never rid. Not now, at least.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

If ALBEDO was asked what was the meaning of life, he wouldn’t still be able to answer outrightly.

To live? To love? To spend time with others?

There can be a lot of answers—to anyone else, his answer could be very well different.

Well, he thought he did have an answer. But maybe, life was just too cruel to him—him, a homunculus that doesn’t know life and death and only knows how to survive.

But you taught him how to love.

Of course, he does love Klee, but the love you taught him was different, far too warm, too genuine, a romantic kind of love that he had not experienced in his whole life.

“I love you, but you don’t have to love me too. I’ll always be here for you, bedo!” Those were your words, and he clung to these words despite the stirring feelings his mechanical heart was feeling.

So warm. So genuine.

“I apologize,” he breathes out, “But I did love you too, Y/n… I apologize for never voicing it out. I’m sorry…”

And now he stares at the gravestone in front of him, written was your name that he used to always call out, used to always associate with the bright sun or the moon or the stars—anything that was too beautiful for this world—you were too precious for this world, and maybe that’s why life itself had to meddle and steal you away from those who loved you—from him.

If Albedo is asked what was the meaning of life, he’d probably tell of the love you gave, and the love he failed to give—to never do anything that makes you regret, or you’ll end up just like him.

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