﹐꒱꒱ ﹐2 Days Later

Ascent to Oblivion part 2 - echoes of regret

He wanted you to awaken, yet he’s not sure why. Maybe he wanted answers. A reasonable explanation for your absurd actions.

Notes: Ahhhhh, I'm finally free again! I'm so sorry for not posting for a while, I was busy. Anyways, thank you so much for being patient with me. Part 2 is finally outttt. Also, tried a new writing style? I decided to go for less editing on this one, I want to see if it's better in terms of writing emotions. Thank you for 100 followers btw. You guys are the best <33

Warning: reader is not traveler btw, scara's pov after the battle, slight angst?

Peace was a luxury that Scaramouche could never afford.

How could he, when the treachery was etched in the steps of his past ?

Yet the solitude that submerged the city of Sumeru leaves a bitter taste resting on his tongue. He settled beside a statue of the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, overlooking the city she once presided over. The region he was supposed to subjugate and bend to his will. 

For once, he’ll be the one exercising control, toying with the strings of his very own marionette play. He’ll devote himself to the role of the puppeteer, finding delight in engineering the people to act according to his words and his words alone. To constrain them to kneel and beg for mercy, manipulating their resolve for his own amusement. 

But alas, it was not meant to be. For he had been defeated by a pesky Traveler and their idiotic companions. 

Scaramouche’s face soured. 

What a disgrace.

His sharp eyes remained its scornful glare at the city. He can not stand staring at the tranquility he yearned to have. The gentle winds that rushed his way seemed to mock him further . It left a lingering caress on his cheek, offering a taste of what he’d been missing for 500 years. He scowls, the hatred evident in his features. A flurry of fallen leaves soon crashed in his direction, dancing away as it avoided him to catch up with the gust of air. One such leaf had landed on your face though, as you lay asleep beside him. He had almost forgotten he brought you here on a whim, despite the Lesser Lord Kusanali’s warnings. 

Their conversation was still fresh in his mind. Having visited you a few times everyday, the Dendro Archon’s attention was caught. She harbored a small smile on her tiny face, her voice warm as usual.

“You don’t have to come here everyday you know?”

He recalls sighing in reply, “I know.”

“But I have to”

Have to, huh?

His answer never really made sense, even to him. He doesn't know why he possessed such a strong obligation to see you. Maybe it had something to do with the turmoil of emotions he was experiencing, raging in his non-existent heart and influencing his thoughts. He wanted you to awaken, yet he’s not sure why.

Maybe he wanted answers. A reasonable explanation for your absurd actions.

Scara still remembers that day. Every single detail. He can’t forget how your body pressed against his, the metallic red a cool contrast to his overheating skin. The way your arms encompassed around him, squeezing him tightly like you were terrified he’d vanish without a trace. He recounts the smash of the debris falling on you, a consequence you suffered for attempting to shield him from danger. 

A stupid move, really. 

He was a puppet, a mere rubble like that was not a threat to his utility. Yet you , with all your mortal characteristics, decided to play hero and shelter him from it. Now look where that got you.

Asleep . 

For two whole weeks. 

Why even bother doing something like that? He wasn’t someone you’d want to save. He had hurt you prior to his fall, yet with no hesitation, you jumped to catch him. 

…You dumbass.

What’s so special about him anyways?

He was nothing more than a discarded puppet, a vessel that was tossed away. A broken doll who's shattered pieces had crumbled to dust, leaving behind a shell of who he once was. 

What part of him was worthy of your adoration? To the point where you disregard your safety just to come to his rescue?

He was insignificant.  A failure . A worthless scrap of metal.

The despairing sobs he vocalized that day served as a reminder that his existence was a mistake. He plummeted to a time in the past when a shed tear sealed his fate to be discarded. He expected you to do the same. 

Yet you didn't .

You didn't abdicate him. You didn't push him away. You simply emboldened your hold and refused to let go. Your touch brought such fervor ardor he had never felt before, a fleeting emotion that loiters within his senses despite the passage of time. Your touch provided him the solace he'd been searching for. But did he even deserve that comfort? 

He eyes your complexion, and his chest burns. What a cruel play by fate, charming the wires of affection out of his grasp and awarding it to you like a trophy.

If only you didn't catch him, then he wouldn't be this troubled.

If only you let him fall.

If only you never cared.

The burn starts to grow, the searing sting tormenting the foundation of his being. His stomach lurches, oh how badly he wants to throw up. Maybe he'll end up vomiting all these useless feelings too.

He wills to change the past, for a preferable outcome in the future. If he never existed, this dilemma would cease to exist. He wouldn’t have to suffer, and you would go on your merry way. Like a parallel line, your paths would never be bound to meet. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be asleep in the first place. Maybe you’d be out there somewhere, roaming Teyvat with the Traveler without the hindrance of his presence.

His existence bordered between pain and fury anyway, and he knew more than anyone how it was certainly a life not worth prevailing. 

With a sigh, Scara narrowed those eyes of his in your direction. How dare you look so peaceful when he's over here, drenched in a scorching passion of self-hatred? The audacity to just remain there, with your pretty eyes closed, and not bother doing anything about it. He huffs, ready to hurl more insults at you. Maybe you’ll wake up from it, returning his jabs as you shoot him a dirty look. And yet… 

“Sorry…”

Something entirely different tumbled out of his mouth. He blinks, barely registering the phrases ripped from his throat. Did he just-

“...I’m sorry”

Why was he apologizing? What was there to apologize for? He wanted to slander you for your interference in his life, not to beg for forgiveness.

A drop of water descends onto your cheek. Huh?

Was it starting to rain?

“...You idiot”

He stops. Has he always sounded like that? Strained… and distressed? 

And why was his vision blurring?

“Please…”

The pang of discomfort bites him without a warning, and it hurts. It hurts so bad. His trembling hands reach out to you. He wants to nuzzle against your arms again, to have you drown out his sorrows in an act of intimacy he’s been longing for.

“Please wake up already”

Taglist: @featuredtofu, @slaylatus, @feikyuu, @yourfavoritefreakyhan, @materialgrowll,

@lxkeeeee, @l4r1n3, @cicil-nema, @alaynac101-blog, @beomtorii2,

@strawbeewie,

@gravy-kfc, @kaeeelie, @pocketdroll, @ladyvelvette, @mmeatt,

@itzshizuyaxd, @swivi

Taglist for (possible) part 3??

Hiii! I've never done this before but... What if Scara and reader had a fight... Like a fight fight... and reader was seriously injured due to him being blinded be emotions... What do you think would the aftermath of this...?

A/n: Yet again, another ask that i was originally gonna js give a short thought to, turned into something longer *sigh* (I need to stop doing this).

Summary: [Angst/Comfort]He could never say sorry, even in the moments it mattered.

Warnings: Harm to reader, Scars, Unrealistic Writing of getting hit with lightning,

———

This was kinda hard to come up with, just because my personal interpretation of him is that he would never ever hurt reader, cause they’re really all he has left buut, if I put that aside the aftermath would be something along the lines of an awkward confrontation??

During his time in the fatui, no one exactly had the galls of stopping his rampages. The balladeer is quite famed for his regular intervals of anger, you’re no stranger to it yourself, you’ve seen him mad. it’s just…

Hes never been angry towards you.

You’d get the occasionally scoff every now and then if you uttered something he found foolish, but never has he lashed out at you to such a degree. Not to this level. He’s painfully reminded by his ignorance as soon as his hand crafted eyes lay sight upon your bare form, a body, a human body, covered in scars from lightning. Lightning he inherited, lightning he engaged, lightning he struck you with.

There’s no doubt, the silence is defecating while you sit with him in the empty room, waiting for one of the medical professionals in the fatui to check on you.

He’s silent. It’s rare. He’s never been quiet for more than 5 minutes with you. He’s either complaining or attempting to make small talk a vast majority of the time, typically the former. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t even stare at you like he always does. You’re about to break the silence before the harbinger breaks it for you.

“You don’t look okay.” He doesn’t look at you, his vision trained on the white tile at his feet.

“Yeah. you struck me with lightning.”

…

“oh.”

It doesn’t hit you until he releases a quiet ‘oh’ from his mouth. Something you probably know better than anyone else that has been on teyvat within his 500 year lifespan.

This man can not say sorry.

“oh? Oh? Kunikuzushi put your pride away for one second.” you don’t try to hide the frustration in your voice. You truly did not mind the eccentricities the puppet in front of you holds, you never did, not even when you first met him.

He still doesn’t answer but you can see the way his face winces and widens in the same moment. Seems he got way too accustomed to ‘Kuni’ and ‘Scara’ to remember that you do in fact remember his given name.

“What else should I say to you? I’ll strike harder next time?” He isn’t getting mad, he was only infuriated earlier, but not now. You can see his demeanor start changing. Whether it be in the direction you want it to go, you’re not sure yet.

“Maybe a sorry? An apology? A “oh forgive me [Name] I love you so much?” He doesn’t answer you, he only scoffs and fall back onto the back of his chair. You don’t miss the way his fingers dig into the cloth of his clothing, probably using it as a replacement for human skin.

The man can’t breathe, but you can hear him inhale and exhale before his next words.

“i don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to- well not at you.” It comes out softer than the other words hes said to you the entire period of time in the room. His eyes are finally off the floor, trying their best to maintain contact with your own.

Once again, all thats left between the space of you two, is silence. You look away from him for a moment, fiddling with the blanket draped over your legs. You’d like to assume that’s the closest you’ll get to an ‘I’m sorry from him’, but you can’t accept that, so you don’t reply. Ever since waking up, you never were able to see the scars on your body, only the ones on your arms. You wonder if they look hideous.

Your hand reaches behind you to your back, your fingers grazing whatever part you assume suffers scarring.

“Are you worried about how it looks?”

“No, not at all, fighting is commonplace in the fatui.”

“Lying isn’t good, you told me that yourself didn’t you?” Damn him and his pristine memory. You can never remember where you leave your keys yet he can remember things you’ve said to him years ago?

…

“No matter how scarred and beaten you are you’re still [Name] are you not?” With the way he’s looking at you, you’re sure this is another thing he’d want to keep out of the publics knowledge. “Even without your face i’d strike someone down for you in an instant.”

“Oh like you did to me?”

“…” Seems the sweet moment was ruined. You don’t mind though, it’s funny to you.

———

The weeks that followed still held some tension. You’d refused to see him for awhile. When asked by some trembling lower subordinate, one in which the harbinger had personally sent, why you weren’t seeing him, your reply made the soldier fear for his own downfall.

“He’s insufferable right now. I’ll talk to him when he shows me he’s not a man child who can’t admit his faults.” You’ve always been able to put up with his outbursts, but right now, you realize maybe you should turn up your attitude with him.

After that unfortunate event, not unfortunate for you, for the fatuss, your days have seemingly been more dull. You’ve forgotten just how eccentric the balladeer is. Waking up never seemed so boring, the puppet would either be by your side in the early mornings, or knocking on the door ready to whisk you away.

Seems that routine is coming back.

“Oh? Have you finally swallowed your ego-“

“I’m sorry.”

Seems he couldn’t go any longer without you, how sweet.

———

Tagging this, I was super confused if this could be characterized as angst w/ comfort or fluff. I just did both though.

Hey Lorkai,

Can I request a phoenix Yuu/Reader with a yandere malleus or Lillia. With a bit of angst where a phoenix is basically indistinguishable from a human until they die for the first time.

Btw I really love your writing, it’s amazing

(can I be 🐦‍⬛anon?)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟa/n: awww thank you, darling, I'm glad you like my works 🥺. And yes, you can be 🐦‍⬛ anon!!!!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟLilia’s fascination with you begins innocently enough — your humor, your warmth, and the strange way you seem to carry yourself as if you've lived for centuries, as if day counted more than the last. But that fascination twists into obsession when he discovers the truth. The first time you die, he’s devastated, grief-stricken to the point of madness, only to witness you rise again, glowing with an otherworldly fire, same face, so soft to the touch, same smile, so innocent and awkward because how do you explain that you are a phoenix?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟHis relief turns to possessive adoration; you’re not just special — you’re eternal, his eternal little bird. He becomes utterly consumed by the idea that no one else deserves to witness your rebirth, to even know what you are. The thought of you dying again, even temporarily, fills him with dread and rage, and he swears to protect you at all costs. Yet, there’s a part of him that fears: what if one day, after rising from the ashes, you decide not to return to him? What if you forget all about him? So many what ifs...

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟHis doting nature becomes suffocating, his tender words laced with the underlying threat of what he might do to keep you by his side. He marvels at your strength but refuses to see you as anything other than fragile, mortal in all the ways that matter to him. He hovers close, constantly watching, endlessly reminding you that no one else could ever cherish your true self as he does. And though you try to assert your independence, his gaze — heavy with love and an unspoken warning — always pulls you back. After all, what’s one lifetime of freedom to a phoenix when eternity waits for you in his arms? Maybe both of you were meant to be.

❥ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 — 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄. ˚⊹꒷

📓୧・꒰summary—wc꒱ affection, regret, and zenith. 1503.

🎸୧・꒰warnings꒱ yandere character ꒰forced/unhealthy relationship, manipulative behavior, mentions of abduction꒱, reader is not traveler, lightly edited.

💿୧・꒰adi moment꒱ sorry for the scara/wanderer posting, may or may not end up happening again! i've got mixed feelings on how this turned out, but yandere scaramouche owns my heart atm and i had to write something for him. hope you enjoy! ૮꒰..◜ᴗ◝..꒱ა ♡

as a disclaimer, i don't support yandere behavior in real life! please don’t interpret this post as justification for any of scaramouche's actions.

જ⁀➴ affection: how do they show their love and affection? ˚⊹꒷

Being openly affectionate is a rather difficult task for Scaramouche… though it isn’t exactly hard to understand why. Betrayal after betrayal combined with years of working beneath the Tsaritsa certainly don’t encourage emotional vulnerability, any tenderness he’d once possessed being forsaken for the sadistic persona he now proudly flaunts.

He’d used that very façade of his to attempt to push you away, back when he’d still had yet to realize just how desperately he needed you in his life. Affection from Scaramouche would remain a rarity between the both of you for quite some time, even after he’d taken you into his ꒰albeit forceful꒱ care. It was safer for him, that way. You weren’t exactly subtle with your discontentment, and the sting of abandonment wouldn’t hurt as badly if he kept you at a distance.

But when he asks—no, demands a hug from you—you’ve really got no choice but to oblige. 

At first, he’s hesitant in the embrace, hands shakily grasping and pulling at the fabric on the back of your shirt as you hold him. Although without the need for air, the stiffness of his body made it seem as though his breath had gotten stuck in his throat, mechanical grasp erratically tightening and loosening as he attempted to adjust. Once he finally does, he absolutely refuses to allow you to pull away, keeping you still in his grip for well over a minute before he finally relents. His eyes are wet as you glance at him, a tear-stained blotch on your clothing as he hurriedly barks for you to turn away.

Despite his initial reaction, these commands for physical affection only become more and more frequent afterwards—much to your distress. Beginning with those awkward hugs and culminating in full blown cuddle sessions ꒰one-sided as they usually are꒱, Scaramouche gradually allows himself to become more and more acquainted with the softness of your touch.

Gift-giving is also a rather common habit of his. As strange as it is for him to be jealous, considering that you aren’t even allowed to sit in the manor’s garden unattended, he just can’t help but worry about you. Seeing you decorated in clothing and accessories of his choosing alleviates his worries, reminding him that you’re still his, even when he might be far away on one of the Tsaritsa’s missions.

It starts out small. A gold necklace. An intricate bracelet, the design of which mimicking the traditional Inazuman motifs found on his clothing.

But it’s not long until he has you fitted for the garments themselves, tailors indebted to the Fatui hauled over from the solitary nation to create an entirely new wardrobe. Scaramouche, of course, oversees the entire process. Not a single detail is overlooked, with him comparing different samples of designs and forcing them to start over whenever he’s displeased with one of their creations. Any attempts to get him to loosen up are met with harsh glares—the same reasoning repeated to you every time. 

“Their debts will be paid by their labor,” he’ll justify, “A mercy considering the Fatui’s usual methodology.” Unless they want to find a permanent residence amongst the cadavers in Dottore’s lab, incompetence simply isn’t something he’ll tolerate.

And, sure, the expense is one that causes a fair share of annoyance from the other Harbingers—especially Pantalone, who was made to fund the operation—though it’s hard to pay any attention to his vexed murmurs when you look so good in the finished pieces.

જ⁀➴ regret: would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? ˚⊹꒷

Scaramouche? Feel bad? When he’s doing you such a gracious favor? Archons, now that might just be the funniest thing he’s heard in a while. In his eyes, it should really be you that feels bad. You should be sobbing at his feet, begging him to forgive you for your oh so constant insolence—your endless whining and complaining.

After all, how could he possibly ever expect to feel pity for the circumstances you’ve found yourself in? You, who’s currently ‘trapped’ within a mansion more luxurious than you could’ve previously imagined. You, who he makes sure is both well fed and dressed—who has countless Fatui guards at your every beck and call. You, who he specifically keeps safe from the many dangers of the world you so stupidly wish to explore. You, who he endures some of Dottore’s more gruesome experiments for—just so your DNA can be preserved in case of tragedy. 

In actuality, the thought that he’d regret ‘taking you’ from your ‘home’... it’s just pathetic to him.

You’re innocent. Naïve. Foolish, to be totally honest. How could you possibly hope to survive out there without his protection? Teyvat is not nearly as safe as you wish to believe, the gods that you find reprieve in oftentimes uncaring to the suffering of their believers. He knows that from experience, and yet you still refuse to believe him. Everything that he’s done is for your sake, ungrateful as you are—it’s a miracle that he hasn’t exposed you to the true nature of the world in order to stop your incessant nagging. 

Scaramouche doesn’t even think he asks much of you, either. All that he expects you to do is sit still. Remain by his side, allow him to shower you with love and ꒰more importantly꒱ keep you safe. Not… sulking around in the room he’d prepared specifically for you, not wildly declaring that ‘you’d never asked him for his protection!’—no, not at all!

So, no, he doesn’t feel any sort of remorse for his actions. What he's done is simply for your own good, and you’re simply foolish to not appreciate that. If he didn’t love you as much as he did, you would’ve been disposed of a long time ago. At the very least… be grateful for that.

જ⁀➴ zenith: would they ever break their darling? ˚⊹꒷

In a way, it’s simply an inevitability with him. Entanglement with the Fatui has rarely ever spelt out positive outcomes for those involved, something you’ll learn because of Scaramouche’s attempts to protect you. Living within his carefully constructed dollhouse doesn’t do much to dim the memories of your old life, nor does it do anything to quell the urge for freedom burning deep within your bones. Awareness of the world you’d once known and fear at the very notion of being struck beneath his control for the rest of your life… None of it bodes well for your mental health, either.

Lacing it with the violence made common from the Fatui, or the punishments inflicted on you in hopes of finally destroying your will to escape ꒰whether they be physical or mental꒱—it’s really no surprise to see the ambitious spark within your eyes eventually being snuffed out.

Isolation alone is already enough to drive the average person insane. With all that you’ve been dealing with on top of that, it’s honestly quite commendable that it doesn’t happen sooner.

At first, Scaramouche doesn’t take this new development of yours well. Your lack of response, lack of reaction to even the cruelest insults of his being hurled at you—to even his mere presence—it freaks him out, slipping beneath his guard and making him feel as though you’ve already abandoned him. Really, how dare you not pay attention to him? Are you mad? Or is this just your latest attempt at escape? Aren’t you just trying to fool him? To make him believe that you’d learned your place just to turn around and sneak away? 

It must be.

He doesn’t leave your side unless necessary, having his soldiers keep watch on you whenever something pulls him away. Whatever new game you’re playing at, he’s determined in his attempts to stop you before you can take a single step outside. Days turn into weeks. Weeks into months. His patience wears thin, the realization you still haven’t done anything hovering over him and sending him into frenzies. But coupled with your newfound compliance to his commands, the way that you numbly follow along with any plans he makes for the both of you—well, he’s eventually forced to realize that you don’t even intend to try running.

As much as he finds himself enjoying your obedience, a part of him simply can’t help but miss your spark. The delicious fear that glazed over your eyes when you were caught doing something suspicious, the fits of passion that led you to stupidly defy his orders… They’d been aspects of you—aspects of the version of you Scaramouche initially fell in love with, the version of you that stubbornly persisted when you still had the opportunity to back away from him.

But this version of you doesn’t move away whenever he pulls you into his arms, doesn’t recoil from the touch of his fingers as if he’d somehow burnt you. This version of you doesn’t cry and beg him to go outside, doesn’t fight against him when he goes on tangents confessing his love to you—occasionally grants him the chance to hear an ‘I love you, too.’ slipping past your lips.

Ultimately… that’s good enough for him.

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more of dependent scaramouchie please??

CW: Yandere content, attempted suicide

--

"What's with that mopey look? I brought you tea, didn't I? The least you could do is drink it."

You didn't have the energy to glare at the one keeping you captive. You were sick of this. You can't keep living like this, stuck under his thumb.

Eyeing the teapot on the table, the gears in your head started to turn. you grabbed the teapot and threw it onto the ground, sharp shards and hot tea spilling onto the floor.

Before Scaramouche could do or say anything, you took one of the shards into your hand and brought it to your throat, intending to use it to end your miserable life.

"NO!"

He immediately leaped forward and grabbed your wrist before the shard could slice through your skin.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He yelled at you in desperation as you two became locked into a battle of strength. In with each of you trying to move your hand either towards your neck or away from it.

After much struggle he managed to snatch the shard from your grasp. "What were you thinking?"

"Why won't you let me die, damn it?"

"I am not letting you go, hear me. Not now, not ever." His lip quivered at the thought of you leaving him behind, betraying him like everyone else. "You're mine. You can't go."

--

Lost Love (2)

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, lots of yearning, platonic relationship, post-Archon quest

Word Count: 600+

Summary: After erasing himself from Irminsul, Wanderer thinks it will fix all of his problems. Instead, he finds himself with regrets.

Part 1 | Part 2

"You know I love you. Is it too hard to love me back?"

Those words continued to haunt him every time he sees you walking through Sumeru City's marketplace. That smile, those eyes --- he hates how much he misses them; how much he misses you. There's a tug in his chest whenever you look his way, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Maybe it's shame. Maybe he's just a coward. Neither of which he'd ever admit to.

Despite this, his heart continues to yearn for you. But it's too late, he decided. You have no memory of him. He is nothing to you, and you seem so at peace that he doesn't have the heart to break it.

It's the afternoon when he happens to come across you buying some baked treats for lunch. There's a lightness to your movement that comes from abandoning the Fatui and living a free life. Without his influence, he wonders what Irminsul has replaced your motives with to leave you alone here in the city. Wanderer stands at a nearby stall, casting you a subtle glance as he watches your hands smoothly take two wrapped pieces of bread. Pretty hands he wishes he could hold one last time.

"Just two will do, thanks. Well, actually, can I also get..."

Your voice is mostly the same, but there's a peace to it that he doesn't recognize. You sound happier without him; less stressed. Content. It's a pleasant sound that makes his chest clench. Would you have sounded this lovely had you not approached him back when he was Scaramouche? It's something he doesn't want to think about.

Wanderer snaps out of his thoughts as you thank the baker once more, turning away with a smile with a bag of baked goods in hand. Despite his noble intentions, he is not a noble man. Neither is he selfish, he can be so so greedy.

As you begin to walk down the path towards another stall, he intercepts you. Your shoulders bump lightly, enough to catch your attention.

"Ah, excuse me," you exclaim apologetically, a polite small smile on your lips.

It's not enough. He wants to see that affectionate smile you once gave him. The one that makes your eyes twinkle.

"Be more careful," he responds coolly, tipping his hat slightly forward to avoid your gaze.

But he simply can't help himself. He turns his head upward once more and catches your raised brow, eyes curious as you take in his expression. Your eyes were always beautiful up close, especially when lit up by the sun.

"You bumped into me," you reply, tone both accusatory and amused. "But I'll let it slide though since you're cute."

Wanderer feels a familiar heat in his cheeks. It's something so childish to be flattered by, but it's only because it's coming from you. He can only scoff in turn, glancing to the side as he tries to focus on anything other than you...but his eyes finds their way back as they lock onto that smile. It's full of mirth and sweet amusement. He's the only one you should be smiling like that for.

"Trying to use flattery to divert blame? How childish," he chuckles, crossing his arms nonchalantly.

A huff of a laugh leaves you as you roll your eyes. "It's not flattery if it's the truth." You look him up and down with interest and curiosity. It's clear that he's not from the city; though neither are you.

"Do you want to have lunch?" You offer with a small smirk. "We can argue semantics over some treats."

You hold up your paper bag, giving it a light shake.

He knows that he should say no and let you go on your merry way, but the chance to be this close to you is too tempting to pass up.

"I don't have anything better to do. Why not?" His voice is cool and collected, but he feels anything other than that. Had he a heart, it would be pounding in his chest.

Maybe this time, he could do things right.

Summary: Dottore had always been impressed and interested in the making of puppets, with Scaramouche at his disposal he could finally dive into the topic and create a prototype of his own..

Pairings: Scaramouche/Balladeer x puppet!reader

Notes/Warnings: Reader is completely gender neutral and has no pronouns beyond "you"! POC friendly! Reader is said to have long indigo hair, but is not physically described beyond that!

When Dottore brought up the idea of creating a puppet as an experiment by following his design Scaramouche had said he didn't care what he did in his free time, but he truly did. Knowing first hand what it was like to be created as an experiment or to satisfy someone's curiousity, it was hard not to care even if he didn't want to. Especially when the Doctor had said that you would be created by "following his design".

It was dysphoric to live in a world full of humans that looked and talked exactly like you, but were so incredibly different from you. Humans who if they found out the truth would betray and fear you - not that he cared about anything like that anymore. But you likely would. You would have to go through that as well, if the Doctor didn't simply dispose of you after he was done tinkering...

Scaramouche had said he didn't care, but would occasionally he would go out of his way to deliver something to his corner at the palace to see his progress. Dottore knew immediately and would always have a smirk on his face when the Balladeer appeared to deliver something. He would love to poke fun at him, but he didn't. He would simply give some insight or details about his progress without acknowledging what they both knew to be true.

The Doctor was successful in creating you and giving you life, while you were made following his design you didn't exactly resemble him. There were some details and personality traits he could connect between you, well more like traits he had when he was still just Kabukimono - but at the same time you were very different from him too. Dottore had clearly had some creative freedom in what he made you look like, but the long indigo hair you had was clearly made to resemble his.

It was eerie looking at you as you reminded him so much of his past. You were always quietly observing everything around you with curious eyes, you tried so desperately to not be a burden to anyone. He hated your doe like eyes that would look his way occasionally, they were filled with so much innocence it was almost disgusting to him. Technically you were still in your infancy, just in a grown body.

In the end Dottore didn't much care for you or even need you. Creating you was a simple act of curiosity - to truly understand this delicate act of creating artificial life. Once his curiosity had been sated, he simply moved onto other things and never thought much of you or your presence beside him or away from him.

It was actually the Tsaritsa that gave you freedom and a name. While she wouldn't involve herself in matters conserning the Harbingers free time or personal life, she made an exception for you. To her you were alive and thus deserved to live like it, with your own room and own name - free to do whatever you wished. But truthfully you didn't know how or what to do with such freedom. Unlike Scaramouche you didn't have a purpose before or after creation, so you didn't have anything to strive for.

You weren't like humans, you couldn't have a normal life where you eventually grow old. You could potentially live till the end of time and it left you hollow. Longing for something you couldn't quite grasp, something like a purpose.

You stood barefoot in the pure white snow, your head tilted upwards towards the grey winter sky. The cold didn't bother you, you couldn't even truly feel it. The snow flakes raining down the sky fell against your face, but didn't melt when landing on your face. After all... you weren't a human. You didn't produce warmth that would cause them to melt away, you couldn't stay out too long to prevent you from being buried in snow. Perhaps it had been a joke, but you still followed the suggestion.

Scaramouche watched from the sidelines as you stood still enjoying the pure snowfall. He didn't know why he didn't just leave to do what he was supposed to, perhaps he was curious. His feelings and relationship with you were complicated to say the least. He wasn't your creator like Ei was his, but he felt some sort of connection to you. He didn't necessarily want to feel connected with you, but he did.

He hated that a small part of him was curious about you, of what you were like. If he could possibly relate to you or if he would form a connection with you if he were to approach you. Even if you were technically his kin, he knew it didn't mean anything as in the end even Ei had betrayed and forsaken him - who was to say you wouldn't do so as well?

You both knew he was there watching you, he often was. You never acknowledged him as he seemed to not want to interact with you. You did know of your connection, you would silently and carefully go through the Doctor's projects and had come across the plans that he used to create you. You longed to connect with him knowing he was possibly the only being you could ever relate to, but he refused to come close to you.

Unbeknownst to you he was actually quite protective of you. He had once heard some fatui members talking about you in a rather provocative way and it didn't sit right with him, he couldn't ignore it no matter how hard he tried. He didn't kill the morons, but he did make sure they'd never utter another word about you or to you. He didn't need to warn anyone else as the word spread around quite quick.

He would face stupid comments from the people he was supposed to acknowledge as colleagues, but he didn't respond to them. The next day he found you standing behind his door with a gentle smile and a nod. He had never seen you smile before, or been this close to you - his chest filled with unexpected warmth from the small interaction... You said nothing before leaving him standing puzzled in his doorway. You didn't need to say anything for him to understand what you meant. That was the beauty of your connection, you could understand each other so easily without the traditional need to say anything.

He later wandered out to the courtyard out of instinct and found you there once again gazing at the sky. This time though, he couldn't help but approach you. He didn't even know why or what he was going to say or do, but he still kept going. His steps caused the snow to crunch beneath his feet, alerting you to him. You curiously turned around to watch as he approached...

A/N: Not proofread lol

The Tsaritsas and the Harbingers obsession

note -> These HCs are based off of the Pulcinella grandchild AU by @hunnieknight ! (I didnt include Signora cause she is 💀)

paring -> Yandere! Tsaritsa X gn! reader, Yandere! fem! harbingers X gn! reader

warnings -> yandere themed, blood, kidnapping.

content includes -> yandere! characters, obsessive! characters

The Tsaritsa

The first time the Tsaritsas had met you, she knew she was obsessed with you, she found you absolutely adorable

At first her obsession was only platonic, she adored you like a mother would adore a child, but as you grew and reached adulthood, so did her obsession

The Tsaritsas would often tell your grandfather to leave you with her, and while he didnt want to at first he eventually agreed

She would often spend time with you in her garden, the only place where the flowers bloomed, she made sure you knew that your only home is where she is, that that is where you belong, with her

The Tsaritsas wants you to be hers and only hers, but she doesnt mind sharing you with a few of her harbingers

Arlecchino

Arlecchino never had a good relationship with your grandfather, that was one of the reasons why she was suprised that you were his grandchild

Her obsession began when she met you during one of the meetings when your grandfather brought you with him, she knew she had to have you

While she knew that the Tsaritsa already had a unspoken claim on you, that didnt mean she could only have you to herself

Arlecchino would often bring you to the House of the Hearth, and while she May "love" you, she is no afraid of punishing you until you behave

Arlecchino agreed to share you with the Tsaritsa and the other harbingers, tasked to make sure you never escape their grasp

Columbina

Columbinas obsession started the first time she saw you, she found you absolutely adorable and she wants to make you hers

She knew the Tsaritsa and the others already had an obsession with you too, so all of them agreed to share you, which she was pleased with

Columbina would often sing to you to calm you down, especially after every punishment you were given for trying to escape your lovers

She, alongside Sandrone, would dress you in cute outfits and show you off as their precious doll

Columbina would make sure your grandfather doesnt mingle in your affairs, you now belong to the Tsaritsa and the other harbingers

Sandrone

Sandrone is not sure when her obsession started, but she knows she will make you hers, she doesnt care about the Tsaritsas claim on you, you are her perfect doll

She would dress you up and make you into the perfect doll for her and the others, she will make sure you are an obedient little doll just for them~

Sandrone often has one of her robots with you for protection, and to make sure you never escape them

She is the harshest when it comes to punishing you, thats why you always make sure you are obedient for her, because you know she will hurt you

Your poor grandfather has to deal with the fact that he will never see his precious grandchild again, but they could care less about him

Being on a hot springs vacation with Lilia and Malleus was a rather daring endeavor. (18+, minors dni. Gender neutral.)

Crowds were spread out in cliques, in a seemingly empty corner sat the two fae and yourself inbetween...

Your face red and not from the warm and relaxing water, but from the hands that naughtily caressed you beneath the water. Malleus was tall and able to shield you from prying eyes, whilst Lilia pulled you into his lap and nibbled your ear.

"You musn't make a sound, little bat," Lilia purred seductively into your ear. You were distracted by the large hands that touched your inner thigh and teased your most sensitive parts, Malleus chuckling at the twitching and trembling of your body.

"You look to be in pure bliss right now," Malleus pointed out with your hazy eyes staring at him with little thought through the wafting steam, "I wonder how long until someone hears the way you allow two fae to violate you in such a public space..." You let out a high pitch whimper as Lilia bit down on your neck then same time as Malleus teased your gentiles skillfully with his fingers leaving you tingling from head to toe.

You felt your heart leap out of your chest once the sound escaped your dirty lips- sobering up from the pleasure quickly attempting to wiggle out of Lilias grasp and frantically looking to see if anyone had noticed. Malleus used his other hand to roughly grab you by the cheeks and look him into his lustful glowing green eyes, his smile mischiveous and plotting.

"Careful, my treasure. Or are you perhaps hoping someone finds us out? Hmm? Are you interested in being displayed as ours?" He turned your head to bite your cheek before Lilias hands had pulled you back down into his lap once more, the water swooshing around with the movement causing your heart to thump at the noise it made.

"Oh no need to be so mean, the poor thing is trembling...." Lilia used his tongue to lick the nape of your neck, then planting a kiss upon your shoulder.

"They will be quiet now, won't you?" You nodded obediently before settling back down into their touch and melting between the heat making you dizzy and the pleasure leaving you breathless. It was cute, watching you bite back moans with every new touch they put upon your body. Just the idea of being caught only aroused you more, almost leaving you whimpering and grinding against Malleus's hand for more of a release. Afraid of being caught, however, left you hesitating and on edge simply waiting to see how much further they would go beneath the hidden protection of the springs steam and the others distractions.

Over and over they made it abundantly clear punishment awaited you for everytime a sound you made could be misconstrued and leave you in trouble.

What they wouldn't tell you, however, was the spell Malleus placed masking the three of you completely from strangers gazes.

As well as the "punishment" that awaited you back in the room they had rented <3

~~~

@masquerade-of-misery you can thank Nessy for this wonderful idea <3 heuheuehu.

Lilia wondered if you knew what it meant to be loved by a fae. Did you truly?

To be loved by a fae meant to be worshipped.

To be loved beyond eternity.

To have lasting memories that would never fade.

To be found in all lifetimes until the end of eternity.

Silver and Sebek knew, having grown with faes and learning their culture.

Silver, even as a human, had learned and readily accepted it but he grew with such knowledge.

Sebek had grown knowing such from his mother and grandfather, even his father knew what it meant to be loved by a fae and willingly accepted it.

Lilia watched as you dozed on Malleus’ lap, the prince stroking your hair with a loving gaze upon you.

You, who were loved and cherished by him and Malleus, two powerful faes who made nations tremble at their power.

Lilia knelt by your side, kissing your forehead. His own blessing mixing with Malleus’s, marking you theirs.

Lilia knew that in time you would realize what it meant to be loved by them, maybe you already had.

After all, you loved so gently yet passionately. You loved with your entire self. It was only proper for that love to be returned just as intensely.

He knew you would never come to danger, not with them protecting you: the Dragon and the General of Briar Valley.

You were also protected by the Knights of the Future King of Briar Valley, both of whom considered you family.

You were loved and cherished, and will continue to be so by all you have come to know and will know.

And of course, especially by them.

Tagging @masquerade-of-misery my fellow comrade of this ot3 🫶💚