#scaramouch

“You promised to model for me!” A disappointed voice rang out of you, the tone over-dramatised to stress your faked emotional turmoil. The way you acted was undeniably childish, like a kid throwing a tantrum, but the thing on stake was more important than your pride right now. “I told you, fuck off! This isn’t what I agreed to!” He shouted in return, trying to storm off until he realised the door was locked. “The heck? Give me the key now if you don’t want me to break your door!”

Wait a damn minute. How did you get yourself into this messy situation again? Or rather, when did it start going downhill?

Perhaps since the moment you began stubbornly pursuing him, following him around everywhere like a stalker just to ask him to model for you? No, even now you were still convinced that he was the right one, you could feel it in your gut. Though if you knew how horrible his personality was, then you maybe wouldn’t have asked twice. For one instance, right on your first meeting, where you tried to introduce yourself, he just ignored you! Saying he didn’t talk with people who ‘can’t form intellectual thoughts’. Who the heck did he think he was?

Furthermore he began actively ignoring you, before getting up and leaving without giving you a chance to start a proper conversation. Rendering you speechless, unable to scout him, which is why you resulted to yelling. “Ack- wait, I’ve got a small favour to ask, I’ll pay you handsomely too!” Yet none of it was of interest to him, at least until you mentioned this, “I-I’m very well known in my field…! I saw you publishing a paper on the inner workings of Inazuma’s politics, if I actively promote it, I can help your paper reach more people!”

Finally, you got him to stop in his tracks, with his back still turned to you as he questioned, “you think I care about publicity for my thesis?” You gulped, that was supposed to be the ace up your sleeve. After all, every academic in sumeru would love a chance like that, to get a push from someone famous. “You don’t—?” “I want that paper to spread like wildfire, enough to cause some serious damage. Got it?” The indigo haired man interrupted you, suddenly facing you as he jabbed a finger against your chest.

You nodded immediately, there was no room left for negotiations. This is a sign that he agreed, correct? Has destiny finally decided to favour you? “Hmpf, so, what’s this favour you spoke of.” He was even willing to hear you out! Now you really think you got him in the bag, “I need you to model for me, you probably know what my line of work is.” Even if he didn’t care, he knew precisely because you were that influential. A modelling gig, huh, it might boost his reputation as well, but honestly speaking he wasn’t keen on being anything of that sort.

On the other hand, to have his disguised hate-speech against the archon of inazuma get the attention he thinks it deserves… quite the tempting offer. “Fine, when do I have to come?” Yes! Your efforts weren’t in vain. The time spend doing background checks and asking around at last paid off, and you quickly gave him all the necessary information he needed, like your address and name, telling him you’d be happy if he was free and could do some modeling right now.

Once you two reached your studio, you immediately got down to work, getting all the materials you needed and placing them accordingly, aiming to display the vision you had. Scara stood in the doorframe, observing everything with a condescending gaze as always. After you were satisfied with the arrangement, you waved him over, and he slowly stepped closer to you. “There's one last thing before we can get started, could you change into this outfit for me?” You inquired, a pile of clothes in your hands, and eyes sparkling with eagerness.

And what came afterwards... well, just listen to him. “If you think you can get me to wear such frivolous things, you might need a reality check.” By the looks of it, he didn’t like the clothes you prepared. Why though? They were so pretty, made out of the finest threads, smooth to the skin and- “how did you even get the idea of giving me something with so many laces and frills?!” -and too feminine for his taste? But a model’s supposed to showcase and help develop your ideas, not their own preferences.

“Please scara, I really need your help here. It’s just clothes!” You argued, to which he replied, “you are going to publish your works too, aren’t you? Well fuck you because I’m not going to get paraded around in such a humiliating way.” Seriously, why is he so against wearing some slightly more cutesy stuff? “Can’t you please cooperate, just this once? See, I’m begging you, I’ll owe you one after this, alright?” You tried to convince him, though the effect was…debatable at best.

The boy took another glance at the fabrics in your hands, the soft, bright colours mocking him, a sense of embarrassment bubbling in his chest as he shook his head. “No fucking way. Why did you have to choose me?” He crossed his arms over his chest, resembling a poor attempt at shielding himself. “That’s easy, I think you are the perfect fit for this.” Based on his reaction, it seemed he wasn’t happy with your answer, so you explained it a little, “my next theme has something to do with dolls, and, your appearance is exactly what I was looking for.”

Petite frame, pale skin resembling porcelain, silky and shiny hair with such a beautiful deep colour… not to mention his face card. He was kind of cute personality wise too, though he won’t catch you saying that out loud, he might actually hit you if you did. “Anyway, I haven’t found anyone else as suited as you, if I did I wouldn’t pursue you like this— I mean, because I know you are reluctant to participate.”

For some reason he was even more furious than before, so in fear of you losing your model, you reminded him of your deal, “ah, right, I’ve got some connections in inazuma, so I was going to sell my works there as well. I’ll just deliver your papers alongside my submissions, what do you think?” After hearing that, he furrowed his brows. Even if he hated to admit it- you truly were a big shot. If his stuff arrived next to yours, many fans will get a copy of his thesis simply out of loyalty or curiosity, heck it will most definitely get plastered all over the news too.

No matter how reluctant he was to debase himself like that, he couldn’t argue you were doing him a big favour. Besides, it’d spread his name around faster when having a celebrity backing him, as mentioned before, which might be of advantage in the future. The more he thought about it, and weighed the two options out, the more he began to give in to your persuasions. In addition it will be nothing but an one-time thing, he’s got nothing to lose. “Urgh… fine, you sure know how to defend your case.”

With that being said, he snatched the clothes out of your grasp, and stomped towards a door leading to a separate room. You blinked, amazed that you actually got him to change his mind, and getting kind of excited now that you were waiting for him to change. How will he look like in the outfit you provided him with? You put in much care preparing those, choosing every decoration and matching the colours. Hopefully he won’t shred them into pieces, you crossed your fingers and prayed for the best outcome.

A while later, the boy emerged from behind the wall, locking eyes with you instantly. At this point you got used to that gaze, with those fierce pupils filled with flames of rage and murderous intent. He groaned agitated, asking, “are you happy now?” For a split second there, you were preparing yourself mentally in case he got physical, luckily it didn’t come that far. After the initial shock, you finally got some break to actually see for yourself how the fabrics looked on him and, archons, he looked adorable.

A loose fitting, floaty top paired with a mid-thigh long skirt adorned his body. The way it clung or settled around his curves was even better than what you imagined, and for some reason his glare didn’t appear as threatening anymore…? “Quit staring so much, perv.” Scaramouch growled, clenching his teeth, he felt ridiculous wearing this. There’s no way he’d look anything close to appropriate or good when draped in such things, consider yourself lucky that he didn’t tear anything apart.

“Was I staring? Sorry, I’m just amazed at how perfect it fits you.” No need for the flattery, he knew he looked off or funny. A faint blush crept up his cheeks anyway, due to the embarrassment or praise? He wasn’t sure himself. “Yea yea, whatever. Just get started already. Don’t I need to strike a pose or something?” The male wondered, and you nodded, “that’s right. Could you…” you hummed to yourself, pondering where to start, “…come over here?”

You pointed to a spot on the ground, and he came over moments later, followed by you grabbing him by his waist. “Please excuse my rudeness, just- adjusting some stuff, the finishing touches you know.” Was all you said, before immersing yourself in your work. Moving him back and forth a little, searching for the perfect angle and accidentally squeezing his hips occasionally. Smoothing out some folds in the clothing, playing around with his hair…

He was so close to complaining again, until he noticed there was a mirror right in front of him, through which he could observe your every motion. That’s when he saw himself in that outfit from the third person perspective for the first time, his small frame decorated with clothes he wasn’t normally used to. The way it enhanced and accentuated the more graceful parts of him, how surprisingly comfortable it actually was to wear those…has the texture always been this soft and nice to the touch?

Without him noticing, or wanting this to happen, a sense of thrill and excitement replaced the initial dread. Maybe he didn’t look all that dumb in a skirt after all. While he was secretly admiring himself in his reflection, thinking you wouldn’t notice since you were preoccupied with your work, you were actually observing his behaviours. You knew it would come to this, you saw the potential in him, and never once was your intuition wrong.

All he needed was a little push, to gain confidence. Every model has to be self-confident in their looks and skills, otherwise it’ll become apparent in the end product. Now, what else should you do to encourage him? Maybe he’d enjoy some compliments to boost his pride? Or some special attention?

Despite you already being positioned behind him, you still acted as if you were sneaking around and ran your hands over his hips carefully, before digging your fingers into his waist. “UrghhKk..?!?” He met your eyes through the mirror, mouth agape, blush deepening, unable to even fathom what just happened. “Did you just-” “oh, you are ticklish? How unexpected.” You commented, and began groping him, as if he was a plaything you could touch however you wanted.

Running your palms over his lower abdomen, pelvis, all the way up to his perky chest, whispered all thrilled, “your skin’s so soft too, how cute.” On the other hand, scara began squirming around, speechless at your shameless display. He wanted to push you away but something was stopping him, yet he didn’t know why he couldn’t do it, only clawing at your forearm while groaning, “the fuck do you think you are doing?” Even you were dumbfounded that he didn’t just beat you up or something, and responded, “hmm… admiring you?”

What a weak excuse, though it was basically the truth. You suddenly got this urge to fondle and probe at him, to see his flushed cheeks be tainted with an even brighter pink. “I don’t think this outfit would have looked better on anyone else.” Your genuine praise got to his head, and he huffed, “anyone with functional eyes can make that statement.” A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you asked, “oh? Are you finally admitting that you look adorable like this?”

“A-adorable?!” He gazed over his shoulder, shooting you a feisty glance since he wasn't sure if he liked that word being used on him. “Yes, adorable.” You repeated it again, and one of your hands brushed over his milky inner thighs, tracing the outlines slowly. The feeling was foreign to him, yet he didn't detest it. On the contrary, it was almost as if he relished in your attention, enjoying it to the fullest. Your touch was so warm compared to his non-existent body heat. By the looks of it, the purpose of why you invited him was starting to fade and be forgotten.

“So... should I continue?” Your gaze met his through the glass, and you saw how his breath quickened, eyes half-lidded in a half blink. It was quite the sensual spectacle, if you didn’t have enough self control, you might have pounced him, you had to admit. Such temptation he was, you didn't plan for things to turn so intimate, but neither did you detest this outcome. “Mhm...” he agreed with a roll of his eyes, nodding despite not knowing why.

A sudden sense of shame coursed through him, and he averted his eyes from yours. Why did he even consent? Did he actually like your advances? How cheap... this was so unlike himself. Even if your palms felt quite nice caressing him, making his stomach flutter so much, resulting in his heart skipping a beat alongside tingles blossoming from his head all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes, why would he cave in so easily? He felt like his mirror image was snickering at him.

Since you got his permission, for now, you moved your hands a little, running them underneath his skirt. He was simply so starved of touch and of any kind of affection, hence he was yelping at every fondle. That, added with him being able to see every filthy thing you were doing to him through the mirror, observing how his own expressions morphed into lustful ones, what a lewd play this was. How were you so skilled with your fingers? Letting them dance across his flesh, grabbing his flesh, earning one whimper after another out of him.

It didn't surprise anyone that he got aroused, a bulge forming on the skirt where his crotch is. “Nghh... do you do this with all your models...?” He questioned, trying to gain some kind of control again, he can't bring it over his pride to submit everything to you without putting in some fight. “No, this is also a first for me.” You answered, and smirked at the obvious signs of his erection, “but it seems I'm not all too shabby at it?” Scara gritted his teeth at you, nails digging into your arms, leaving behind red crescent forms.

How annoying, that you knew you were the root of his lust. He hated how needy he looked, and how easily he handed the reins to you. Doesn’t matter, he was going to get back at you in one way or another. “And you must find me very irresistible, to be that eager.” He mocked, though you weren't provoked at all. “I'm not going to deny it.” Hearing that left him momentarily stunned, you were awfully honest. Thus he had to try some more even snarkier stuff, and he thought hard about his next words, “then what are you waiting for?”

You were nuzzling his nape, though after hearing his unexpected statement, you looked up at him confused and asked, “what?” To which he said, “why are you just petting me if you are oh so eager.” Seeing you taken aback was a nice change, and he grinned cheekily, taking it even further, “don't tell me you are that boring and satisfied with only a little groping? Like some perverted old man?” This should do the trick~

He still got some bite to him, huh? If he has the energy to provoke you, then surely he can use it on something way more efficient. “This is on you, got it?” You scoffed, and began reaching between his legs, brushing your fingertips over his sex. A shudder ran down his spine, and he tensed together, “h-haah..! Y-you think that can scare me?” Scara scoffed, yet it sounded more like a hollow threat, and so you chuckled, “who said I’m trying to scare you?”

“Rather… a cute girl shouldn’t hide such naughty things under their skirt, don’t you agree?” You taunted in a playful tone, before flapping the fabric up to reveal his leaking dick, soaking through the pastel coloured panties. “Look at that, you even wore the underwear. Say, have you been lying to me about not liking this?” That really struck a sensible cord, and he flared up like a street cat, frowning at you through the furniture.

As if your words alone weren’t enough to hurt his ego, you just had to prove your statement by wrapping your stupidly warm hand around his shaft, causing him to double over as his knees gave out beneath him. Such traitors, getting weak at the smallest stimulations. “HnnGh..! You imbecile- fucking—ah… anNnhg…!♡♥︎” He buckled, hands bawled into fists as he slammed them against the mirror, forehead following next.

Poor thing was panting already, which led to your next ridicule, “can’t take it? Tell me, I might go easy on you.” If it weren’t for you holding him by his waist, he might have flopped and crashed down completely. Be understanding with him, he’s never had anyone do such things to him! Of course he was going to be like this, with his voice spilling with no restraint, as well as him being unaware of his own volume.

“What a bad girl, hiding this filthy dick behind such cute clothes. I told you, you ought not to do that.” You murmured, placing your chin onto his shoulder, getting into the perfect position to mutter directly into his ear. Sticking your tongue out to lick his earlobe, before trailing down with the kissed, burying your lips beneath the collar of the shirt. “You don’t mind marks, right?” You proclaimed, and began sucking at his skin, trying out different spots to gauge his reactions.

“Uh-urgHhh…! d-damn you…” He folded under the onslaught of stimulation, allowing you to do as you pleased. Not that he minded all that much, he always wore high-collar stuff anyway, so no one would know about the evidence of your secret session. As for him? Ah! W-well, ehem, you probably wouldn’t stop even if he told you to, so consider this one of his gracious acts, to permit you to leave marks on his previous body like this. It’s the last time you’ll get to do this, so you better enjoy it to the fullest.

Never has Scaramouch ever concerned himself with such primitive things, neither has he imagined he’d be on the receiving end, so he had no prior knowledge of how good that would feel. To have your mouth travel across his shaking frame, hands caressing every untouched inch… small groans and whimpers slipped past his tightly clenched lips. “mhmff… g-guuhHh.. so- irritating ♥︎♡” He loved this, to have your hand stroke him, pleasuring him, making him feel a sense of desire he haven’t had for such a long time.

Pure ecstasy coursed through his body, head spinning and melting under the continued overstimulation. You took this chance to learn more about him, what his likes and dislikes were, and rubbed his flushed tip with your thumb which earned you another cute moan from the male. “Ah-ahHh..! D-don’t do that!” He thrashed around, toes curling on the ground. His shoulders were raised to his equally as red ears, grip tightening on your arms.

There was something bizarre going on in his lower belly, his insides were becoming chaotic. What were you doing to him— as if electricity was coursing through his veins, sending waves upon waves of signals straight to his brain. Though that analogy wasn’t the best, he couldn’t think of anything else to say now that his thoughts were starting to blank out. “Why? Don’t like it?” You mumbled again, and he whined, “feels… weird.” What a cute answer, you couldn’t help the light giggle slipping by your throat and decided to speed up your pace.

Stroking him up and down, astonished at how sensitive he was. Was this his first time? God, now you ‘felt bad’ for taking it. “You are making such a mess, squirting so much, my hand’s drenched already.” It was the truth, your fingers were all slippery from his precum, and it created so many lewd squelching sounds when you moved them along his shaft. His volume got increasingly louder, and so you teased again, “does it feel that good?” He shook his head, stammering, “be q-quiet.. don’t get cocky.”

What a dishonest boy, still unable to admit it. You weren’t too concerned though, you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that facade going any longer. The arm that was wrapped around his slim waist moved up, ruining the perfectly ironed shirt, and reached below it to play with his cute, perky nipples. You saw through the reflected image that those lewd little things hardened, creating tiny little tents through the shirt. “You are naughty here too, it seems, what a bad girl.” You commented, and began using your fingertips to circle around them, as if testing the water.

“Y-you..! Stop calling me that! W-wait, why- nnNghh!! ♡♡ why are you t-touching there..?!” He snapped, voice creaking out into a high-pitched moan when he felt your teeth sinking down into his shoulder, ripping the skin there. A choked out gasp as he pawed at your head, acting as if he was pushing you away even though. Though he was contradicting himself, instead of pushing, holding your head in place as if he didn’t want you to leave. “Hnnghh.. uuHh-uhMm..!” On top of that, your hand was basically milking his twitching cock, bringing him closer and closer to his impending release.

“How about no.” You said in return, and added, “don’t you like being a pretty girl? Look.” In the blink of an eye, you grabbed his chin and made him focus on his mirror image, shudder running down his spine. “You sure you don’t like that term?” You asked again, while all he did was yank his face away from your grip, refusing to answer, until he heard your command, “tell me, scara.” Fine, since you were so persistent, he shook his head, to which you snickered, “so? You like it when I call you that?”

Must you be so annoying? He huffed and bared his teeth at you, before yielding to your stupid taunt and said, “k-keep doing it if it helps get you off, but i’m not saying that I like it. I’m tolerating it.” Such a liar, though it didn’t matter, you knew he liked it. His cock was honest after all~ twitching so cutely whenever you called him by that disgraceful pet name.

He threw his head back against you while his tongue lolled out, taking a while to noticed how close you two were, before changed to slamming his forehead against the mirror again. Such a vulnerable sight could be seen through the furniture, some intrusive sides of him really wanted to smash it. This whole ordeal, paired with him being able to see just how much of a degenerate he was, made him want to cry out, hot tears picking in the corners of his eyes.

Suddenly you began scratching his rosy buds with your nails, the pressure gentle and insistent, as if you were digging for treasure. In this case, it’d be his sweet moans, no? He sobbed and squirmed even more at that, the most erotic and phonographic whimpers now spilling out of him. “Ahh…!! N-nooo~ t-too much aAahHh-hNghHh..♡♡♥︎” Like a spell that encouraged you to do more, you licked over the bit marks you’ve left behind, easing the pain slightly while jerking him off even faster.

It felt like you were touching him everywhere, every single one of his senses were filled with nothing but pleasure. He couldn’t think of anything but how good it was, brain on the verge of shortcutting, unable to keep up with everything. What to do? You were simply too good. Assaulting his nerves and making him melt in your hands, such a gut-wrenching, delirious high this was. He could get addicted to this. No good, he agreed to this deal thinking he’ll take advantage of you, yet now he was the one kneeling for you…?

“HnnGh mhmHhhh~!!” Scara cried out, these tears he’s been holding back finally spilling freely as a new wave of ecstasy washed over him. Enough to cause everything he had build up to come crashing down. Pride, composure, or his last remaining shame, all falling apart as he was overwhelmed by this whirlwind of emotions, this storm that pulled him along. Needless to say, he was about to reach his limit, sweat covering his pale skin, glistening in the light of the room.

His hair was a tangled mess due to his own thrashing, stains decorated the once clean mirror, still reflecting his ruined state. To have to witness everything that’s been happening to him in such a way, how delicious cruel it was. He was trembling, shudders running down his spine, eyes glazed over with bliss as he slurred his words. Though his mind couldn’t form any coherent thoughts anymore, and at this point he was just blabbering random nonsense~

“F-feels good… ahHgh~ uHnnm!! W-want moOoreee~ ♥︎♡ su’uhh guUhhh-hNghh ♡♡♥︎~~!” Saliva dripped down his chin as you pointed his dick towards his doppelgänger in the glass, smirking to yourself as you whispered, “you wanna cum, scara? Cum then, paint it all~ over yourself ♥︎” hearing you egging him on like that, he had no choice but to obey, no? It was as if his body had a mind of its own, obeying your commands even when he was internally thinking “that’s too embarrassing!”

In the end, it only took a few more pumps around his slick and wet arousal before he came. Ropes of white, sticky cum shooting out of his overworked little cock, still tainted in such an angry crimson shade. He came so much, that must have been pretty intense for him, perhaps he was still not used to getting so much attention. “AhgHhh~ MhnmNfff c-cumminGghh~♥︎♡♥︎ nghh Mhmff~!!” He groaned out one last time, pupils rolling back once more as his own release splattered across his own reflection in the object opposite of him, making it look like he just came all over his face.

The thick substance stuck to the glass, flowing down in a somehow even more filthy way. His face looked like a wreck, blushing furiously as he basked in the aftermath of his orgasm, the first one shared with the heat of another. Has he lost his mind? Allowing you to do all these humiliating things to him? But it felt so good, he couldn’t even deny it anymore, slumping into your arms with no strength left in his limps. You had to embrace him tightly to prevent him from crashing forward, otherwise he might have destroyed your poor mirror.

He glanced a few times at his own image, slowly coming to terms with his rather.. unique appearance. You really did a number on him, making him wither and turning him into a ruined mess. Should he say he was impressed? Nevertheless, it seems he wasn’t as aggressive anymore post-climax, or he frankly couldn’t muster up the energy to get angry now.

What a shame though, that his clothes got dirty as well. All soiled and soaked with his bodily fluids, dark spots appearing everywhere. Ah, a shame? Why did he think that… did he actually grow fond of those scraps of fabrics? He was still shaking ever so slightly, panting and heaving even though he didn’t need air to survive. Maybe it was just a way to show his exhaustion, and he settled deeper into your arms. For reasons beyond his own understanding, he found comfort knowing you cared enough to tend to him like this.

You didn’t stop your movements until he came down from his high, helping him get through it more easily. Once he came back to his senses, you predicted that he’d jab his elbow into your ribs or something, considering his usual violent tendencies, but nothing of that sort happened. All he did was pick at the frills clinging to his humid skin, while staring at himself through the mirror. Seeing this, the next words crawled out of your mouth on their own, “will you still be my model, scara? If possible, in the future as well?”

This time, he agreed without any arguing nor protest. But for now, the modelling stuff will have to be postponed until you get him a new, clean outfit. A silent nod of acceptance, before he whispered, “don’t forget, you are in charge of bringing the clothes for me to wear.”

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allys-strawberry-garden @thigh-o-saur @demonic-anon @fem-dom-roze @strawberry-snake-love @mulchdevours @sushimuesli

Nini!rant 2.0

Cuz I’m already behind schedule, I’ll start cherry picking the fics I want to do and finish them on time, so that they will be posted on the day they are supposed to release. As for the rest, they’ll be done at a later time lol

Yeaaaa, once again I suck at meeting deadlines *sigh* I just can’t let the quality suffer under it. If I don’t like the fic then I’m deleting it haha.

But hey, 19 days done already, which means I’ve written at least 10 fics this year. One more than last year :> let’s see how many more I can finish before October ends….

time for some repeating song lyrics everybody! after absolutely scrutinizing the archer and not strong enough i've decided they're both each songs equivalent

you can see Ei's and Focalor's hands right there which now i'd like to share the headcanon that Archons have painted nails alongside their glowing hair, which can back up potential future fanarts of Scara having black/dark purple nails. i was debating on Nahida or Ei for the hand cupping Scara's face, went with Ei because i made Scara's eyes purple with a swirl of cyan and it'd match with Ei's painted nails, totally not some form of symbolism in his eyes or anything lol.

(i posted this for the first time in tiktok and it sort of flopped 20 mins in but who knows! + the text feature in csp is so hard to use. whats up with that)

nahida had caught wind of a very interesting commission posted on behalf of the adventurers' guild on treasure street. something involving old books or scripts and she took a liking to it. 'you already know all of whatever's in those dusty tomes,' he had told her. still, nothing beat recovering the physical wisdom she already had so she could hold it in her small hands and fawn over it... so she claims. that's why he was here in the first place.

going along with whoever decided to take on the job beat out over having to endure her pressing gaze that lit his back on fire. the problem was that you were the one who took the commission.

while he tolerated your presence and didn't dislike you being around or yapping even if he was in a sour mood, when you were working out on the field- even he knew you were a reckless lost cause. did you bring results? yes. but you always found the most ludicrous ways to get there. if he took his eyes off you for a second, who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into.

presently, you and he had successfully snuck into the hideout of which the lost books were rumored to be. an old stone building that once stood as a small manor. the books were rumored to be in the last remaining tower on the east side of the main building; or so says the suspiciously detailed commission. of course, this hideout wasn't without its squatters. treasure hoarders infested the place like worker bees in a hive.

you both had gotten lucky so far. reckless as you are, he was half convinced you'd storm the place, guns blazing and just bull doze yourself all the way through.

as for what was going on around the corner, you were currently listening for the small group of treasure hoarders to pass by; or you would be if your hat wearing companion would stop nagging. shushing him between your teeth once more, you swirl your head away from him. annoyance bit at the back of his neck, still he obliged you by staying silent. one of his feet propped up against the wall behind him as he idled.

the chatter between the men you were both sneaking around faded into a murmur as he watched the back of your head from the corn of his eyes. the adventure's uniform was always tacky to him. apparently you thought so do, if all the changes you've made to yours was anything to go by.

"okay," you whisper. wanderer kicks himself off the wall before placing his hat back on his head with practiced grace. "coast is clear, let's go before someone else comes back around." as you take off around the corner his eyes roll before he's chasing after you.

for all his moaning, the previous nomad had no reason to doubt your skills. you were good as what you did. it was just always more trouble than it's worth sometimes.

with the same tactic of wait, listen, dash and repeat, you both managed to get to the tower and pushed past an old, domed wood door. the spiral of stone steps leading higher into the tower was so visibly unsafe, one wrong step on the wrong piece of rock would send a typical person tumbling all the way back down. of course, if that did happen, wanderer would just latch onto your collar and fly you the rest of the way up by your fabric scruff.

after an annoyingly long trip up in upward circles, you come to another door identical to the one at the bottom. wooden, domed and built with iron latches. twisting the handle and releasing the latch, the door opened, and the scent of dust hit your nose.

you step into the old room that looked like a small library once a upon a time and waved your hand in front of your face to stave off all the dust in the air. you coughed on it as wanderer watched you with crossed arms.

"you're so dramatic," he sassily told you before walking further into the library. a perk of not needing to breath was not caring about dust apparently. your lungs were currently envious of his mechanical innards.

"oh... shu-t up-" you choked, following after him.

the library itself wasn't grand. it was obviously old. cobwebs on the ceilings and in all corners, layers of dust that could easily create a thick quilt if it was all gathered in one place. the room of shelves held so many books draped in peeling covers and age-damage. still, somewhere among them was the books you needed to find.

it took a long time, longer than you wished, and more battles between dust clouds, spiders, and cobwebs that you care to admit, but you had finally found what you were looking for. placing any loose pieces of paper into your satchel on your hip, you take the book and wrap it up in cloth before also tucking it away.

"i think that just about does it." you say, latching your satchel up securely. "let's get out of here before-"

the sound of echoed, rushed footsteps stomping their way up the stairs behind the cracked door of the library interrupted you. spinning around, you faced the door as wanderer clicked his tongue.

"you just had to go and say something dumb."

"why are you blaming me?!" you screech.

"there's someone up here alright!"

one of the owners of the rushing feet shouted. wanderer's glare towards you made you look away quickly with sweat running down your cheek. you were guilty of nothing that he can prove. he stomped over to you and pulled on that cheek, his fingers pinching the flesh as his insides whirled in irritation. "you loudmouth!" through your squinted eyes did you see steam puffing from his mouth?

the cracked door blew open and behind it came rushing in three treasure hoarders. a knife thrower, a burly man with a shovel, and an excentric looking fellow in a red overcoat. 'oh great,' you think.

wanderer releases your cheek as the three men rush in. he grabs your arm and shoves you away from him and kicks starts your legs for you. you duck between the bookshelves as they give chase. the knife throwing man tries his luck, his projectiles lodging into the bookcase just as you find safety behind it. skidding to a swift turn, you counter with your own throwing skills- although with a stray rock on the floor inside of a knife.

a satisfied thunk sounded among the scuffle as the rock struck him on the head and he soon followed it to the floor. he deserves the headache he'll wake up with. your small victory was short as you yelp when the burly man with a shovel swings it and you just barely managed to duck under the woosh of its motion. rolling away from him you run, leading him towards a bookshelf you noticed was unstable earlier. once he was in place, you shoved the shelf with your shoulder, toppling it over the man.

books pelt him before the wooden encasement pins him to the floor. it was just heavy enough to keep him down long enough for an escape. stepping on the fallen shelf, you hear the treasure hoarder groan at your added weight on his back before you were rushing around the library back to the front.

"hey, [wanderer]! we've really gotta go!" you stood still in the library and wonder where the third guy had ran off to. he was the one you were most worried around. the last thing you needed was a molotov being thrown at you. "[wand]-" your second shout was cut off by a blast of wind swishing at your side. once the wind blew past, the sound of shattering glass echoed in the once tidy- but dusty- library. followed by a plume of fire.

"stop shouting! you're just giving yourself away!" you found wanderer at your back the moment you recovered from the sudden burst of air. there was a rumble in the floor caused by his vision as a blast of air sprang up from below the third attacker's feet. it violently burst from below, lifting him off his feet and onto his back.

three knocked down treasure hoarders. nice.

soon, the stairwell begin to fill with more noise. more shouting and stomping just like earlier. as you look over wanderer's shoulder, your voice chokes at the remnants of the flame-fueled molotov he had blasted away from your earlier. this library was the best fire starter in the books! dust, paper, wood. it checks all the boxes. and now you'd have to deal with more treasure hoarders.

"oh, come on!" you groan. wanderer looks behind his shoulder at you. he wonders if you realize that you've grabbed onto his arm or how close your nose was to his cheek at this angle. he clicks his tongue again before looking behind your head.

with his vision against his chest, he lifted his free arm, flinging a slice of air through a small window. the glass shatters, falls outside to the ground and the open air invisibly floods the room. it only adds to fan the flames that were now beginning to eagerly eat anything around it to grow.

moving, and dragging your wrist with him, he jumps up onto a nearby desk just under the now empty window frame.

"don't bite your tongue," he tells you. you look at him like he's nuts before he's shoving you out the window back first. shoving his palms against the front of your shoulders. your arms flail before the view of the library and wanderer, spin and flip to the outside stone of the tower and then the sky. there's a second of skirmishing noise before the sound of wind deafens you.

wanderer is quick to fly out of the window after you. diving down in the air, he swoops his arm under your stomach, securing you to his side. your body folds inwardly due to be stopped at free fall and wanderer takes a full few seconds of levitation before blasting off away from the scene.

"are you crazy?! why did you do that?!" you complain. rightfully so.

"did you want to stay and get burnt to a crisp?!" how he found the audacity to argue with you, you don't know. "we got what we needed anyway!"

"how about a little warning next time?!"

"stop shouting! you'll bite your tongue! don't you listen!"

"I have to shout so you hear me!"

the way he is holding you was backward; your legs were at his front with your arms clutching onto the flapping fabric that dangled on his person. clinging onto him, you watch the tower disappear behind the clearly strategic retreat. observing as smoke begins billowing up in the sky and you wonder if you'd have to include 'the result of the job was a massive fire' in your commission report.

it would break poor nahida's heart to know that so many books were lost to a reckless treasure hoarder who though a fire molotov in an old library was a good idea.

when you finally return to sumeru city and write up your report, your prompt in delivering it to katheryn. you glance over to the puppet who still hadn't dismissed himself back to the sanctuary of surasthana to do his own report back to the dendro archon herself with questioning eyes. was part of his task also to wait until you had submitted a report? what was keeping him?

walking over to his side, you dig the book out of your satchel along with the pieces of loose parchment. you offer them to him.

"do you need to take these back to lesser lord kusanali?" his arms remain crossed along his chest and he makes no move to uncross them to take your items. your chin juts up a fraction as if to tell him 'are you going to take these or?'

without so much as a word, he spins his back towards you. you're about to give him a piece of your mind, when he talks. "give them to her yourself." starting off, he walks further up treasures street, and you were left there flabbergasted. was he going to make you finish this job alone? "are you coming or not?" his voice called from up the slopped roads. he was waiting for you.

'guess he isn't.'

you jog to catch up to him, book clutched to your chest, and he waits until you were beside him to start walking again. just before he moved to open the door to the sanctuary, you stopped him.

"thanks for helping me out earlier." he turned to look at you quizzically. "you know? for deflecting that flaming bottle? it would've sucked if it caught the job items on fire."

"it wasn't a big deal." he turns away again.

"i also appreciate that you didn't let me get hurt."

there was a silence. then, "you're welcome." it was a genuine statement. not a hint of sass. it made you feel pretty proud. "come on." he told you before he's walking inside with you in tow, but not before opening the door for you.

nahida was pleased at the newfound items she could safely store away after thoroughly studying them. but when you informed her that the rest of the library you ventured to in search of those items went up in smoke? lesser lord kusanali wasn't the happiest archon in teyvat about that.

a/n: you'll never guess which scene i rly wrote all this for was- also yes i put [wander] in brackets when reader was speaking bc he's obvious named differently, so its more or less a name placeholder lol