Get Isekai’d Into Your Gacha Hell But Every Time You Meet Someone Who Has A Soul-crushing Heart-wrenching

get isekai’d into your gacha hell but every time you meet someone who has a soul-crushing heart-wrenching tear-inducing punch in the throat backstory you give them a non contextual hug (ft. 6reeze)

Get Isekai’d Into Your Gacha Hell But Every Time You Meet Someone Who Has A Soul-crushing Heart-wrenching
Get Isekai’d Into Your Gacha Hell But Every Time You Meet Someone Who Has A Soul-crushing Heart-wrenching
Get Isekai’d Into Your Gacha Hell But Every Time You Meet Someone Who Has A Soul-crushing Heart-wrenching
Get Isekai’d Into Your Gacha Hell But Every Time You Meet Someone Who Has A Soul-crushing Heart-wrenching
Get Isekai’d Into Your Gacha Hell But Every Time You Meet Someone Who Has A Soul-crushing Heart-wrenching
Get Isekai’d Into Your Gacha Hell But Every Time You Meet Someone Who Has A Soul-crushing Heart-wrenching

More Posts from Koyoim and Others

1 year ago

Ascent to Oblivion part 2 - echoes of regret

Ascent To Oblivion Part 2 - Echoes Of Regret
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?

Ascent To Oblivion Part 2 - Echoes Of Regret

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”

Ascent To Oblivion Part 2 - Echoes Of Regret

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??

1 year ago

Scaramouche is not as delusional about the nature of your relationship as he is in his contempt towards everyone and everything that surrounds him. He has his share of grudges, prejudices, and deeply rooted reasons for seeing things the way they are distortedly reflected in his eyes, but he is certainly not blind to the veracity cleverly embedded in your serene front.

He does not expect you to be enamored with him and neither does he fool himself into thinking you would pretend to be smitten with him upon the very first glance cast. If anything, he is perfectly aware that you are either indifferent or outright hostile toward him, but you know what? He couldn’t care less about your words and actions. He has no concern for your feelings because his own ones – those sentiments he worked so hard on shutting out of his system – shall always be the first and only priority to focus on. After all, you made him like this. You made him weak, cornered, in a stalemate with no solution, and he will be inclined to detect and analyze what exactly made the thought of you appear in his brain, let alone the need to interact with you directly to course through his frigid body.

You have no affection for him? Fine. You fear him? You better do. You somehow read his mind and reciprocated the contagiousness of the plague that is his obsession with you? Whatever. It doesn’t matter if you hate him or are that depraved to sincerely love him, of all people. You don’t matter at all; your emotions and reactions have zero importance to him. What really matters is why he feels so weird, why he wants you to himself and why is he stepping into the same mousetrap that is humanity over and over again. His injured hubris quells his self-hatred quite efficiently, otherwise he would have been a sight pretty pathetic to behold – at this point, he is so engrossed in denying his innate urges that one might almost pity the divine instrument that, by design, was not supposed to host any cravings inherent in mortal beings, and those same urges overlap with his artificial origins to produce an individual of impressing callousness.

Extremely self-absorbed, vindictive, and lacking a great deal of empathy, Scaramouche, as a result, is unable to perceive you as a person. To him, you are more of a breathing mannequin on whom he unleashes all frustrations and resentments to maintain his mask of sanity and faux affability; a convenient fantasy he shapes and molds as he pleases without the least compunction. Yesterday, you were his mother. Today, you are his older sister. Tomorrow, you will be his lover. You are a mere human; a female of her species, but you are also a tool – just like he is – stolen from celestial influence to serve his cause. Of course, he knows that you may have your troubles and all of that stuff, yet… Does he comprehend the value they hold? Does he consider that your desires are as valuable as his – that you, too, have a right to form and express your opinions and that they hold no less weight than his? That you have a right to do what you want and ignore the discreet woes of the spurned doll?

Keep reading


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1 year ago

Sinking Into Your Arms

Sinking Into Your Arms

Masterlist

Cw!: yandere!Scaramouche, possessive behavior, (brief) drowning/suffocation, abduction, (somewhat) suggestive. Tags: merman scaramouche, modern fantasy au, established relationship, gn!reader, open ending. Summary: Scaramouche has finally gotten tired of waiting in one place for you to come back to him.

☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆

You sighed heavily as you walked along the coast, breathing in the salty breeze. Your parents called you back during your vacation, just to rush you to get married. You weren't even that old! They had been nagging you day by day, even on your regular phone calls. Your parents wouldn't understand that you had been dating someone already, even if he can't quite go to meet them.

Scaramouche swam up to the surface the moment he felt your presence. You were gone for way too long! His eyes lit up at the sight of you wearing the necklace he gave you but acted as if he did not care one bit. "Finally care to come back, pipsqueak?," he huffed while taking out a small bracelet designed to your taste. "It doesn't matter. How long are you going to stay this time?"

You looked at him guiltily. You felt horrible for choosing an inland city, making it even more difficult to meet up. "A week at most…?," you scratch your cheek awkwardly while looking away. A dark expression flashes on his face but disappears just as quickly as it appears.

Everyday for the next week, you go to the seashore, at Scaramouche's request, each time bringing a small snack or gift as an apology for leaving him again so quickly. Your parents don't let up on trying to get you to go on blind dates, however. And with their intensifying efforts, your exhaustion also increases, leading to you pouring out all of your complaints on the final day.

Scaramouche smiles almost innocently, his violet eyes glinting under the sunlight. "I have a solution for you." His hands move to pull you down into a deep kiss, each movement slowly claiming the air in lungs as his. His sharp nails dance on the nape of your neck, pulling you deeper into delirium before pulling you into the sea with him. 

The cold water pulls you right out of your trance and you struggle against his hold desperately. Scaramouche lets go just enough for regret to fill your eyes, diving back in to give you some much needed air. This time, there is no resistance even when he stakes his claim on your lips, your tongue and even your existence as a whole. He whispers into your ear, his voice killing you into a deep slumber…

"News flash: a resident has been reported missing after going to the seaside. It is recommended to keep your family members, especially children, away from the waters as the current has been rather unforgiving…" Your parents cried, aggrieved at your disappearance. There is nothing they wouldn't give to find you again.

☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆

A/N: oh wow this wip was all the way back from april lololol well happy mermay folks!


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1 year ago

4) Arlecchino redo

Platonic!Yandere!Arlecchino x Child!Reader

4) Arlecchino Redo

The danger of this platonic yandere-4/10

Common features:

Arlecchino, to be honest, is a little ashamed and unusual to realize that she has favorites. Her task was to make one big family out of the orphanage as much as possible. That is why it will be difficult for you to guess that she is yandere. Arlecchino has absolute control over her emotions, thoughts and actions and she will never allow herself to do something that she will greatly regret later. She didn't want to have rivalry among her children or spoil you, because of yandere side.

As with any of her other children, she's ready to kill for you. And trust me, she'll do it before you dare ask or complain to her. Information reaches her very quickly from a variety of sources. And she's not stupid or blind not to guess that something has happened.

A special feature:

Arlecchino will not try to be gentle or affectionate when it is not required. Unlike other platonic yanders, who most often want to have control over the reader and even make the reader dependent on them. The fourth harbinger acts in the opposite way. She doesn't like tears, especially yours, and therefore her main task is to make you strong and independent so that you have no reason to cry in the future. She wants to be the only reason you cry. After all, your tears will not bring her joy, but to other possible people it can be one of the sources of pleasure.

An adorable feature:

She has a diary in which all known information about you is stored. From your date of birth to your possible parents. She will search for any possible information about you. There are even a couple of photos in this notebook that show you with other children. And there's even your tooth, which was knocked out in a friendly fight...


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1 year ago

A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: Isolation takes its toll, and you begin to sleepwalk out of the gilded manor Scaramouche has procured for you. Commissioned piece.

Word count: 3300ish

notes: yandere, married reader, sleepwalking, isolation, unhealthy/controlling behavior 

A Linnet On A Bough [Yandere Scaramouche X Reader]

Being the spouse of a Harbringer is no simple matter, and you are no simple spouse. 

If you had married someone from  your village, your life would be simple. You would do what your parents had done, and their parents had done, and their parents had done. Cooking and mending and minding the children, and living out your days without ever venturing very far, except on rare occasions that would be something you would treasure forever.

You would grow old within the confines of the village and die surrounded by your children, who would bury you near your own parents and go on to live out their lives much as you had done.

But you didn’t marry someone from your village, and your life is not so simple. Instead, you were wed to Scaramouche. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real, even now, and you pinch yourself to make sure you’re not nursing some long standing fever-dream. 

Who would have thought? Certainly not you. Sometimes you wonder if even he expected to ever make such a match. But he told you that he intended to marry you, and let the words hang in the air, to be caught or cut down with your decision.

You said yes. Really, you couldn’t say no… but part of you wanted it. Yes, you can admit that much. It was flattering, and isn’t it nice to be flattered? Especially when you were nobody. Just someone who trudged to the town well to fetch water for your elderly parents, someone who helped a stranger (Scaramouche, it turns out, was not the helpless waif you’d assumed) and got a husband for their troubles. 

So, no, life is not simple. Both in the figurative and literal meaning of the word. 

And now, wife of a Harbringer as you are, you have grown acquainted with--and acquainted is the only term for it, for you could never say you were accustomed to any of it--certain luxuries. Food, to your liking, whenever you would like it. Sometimes it is even brought to you out of season, the greatest luxury of all. Clothing made with rich materials; ribbons, jewels, the softest of slippers to adorn your feet. Servants and pampering the likes of which you had only heard about in your old life. 

But there is one luxury that you are routinely denied, no matter how much you pout your lips, no matter how prettily you ask, no matter how many tears blur your vision and wet your eyelashes: the outside world.

You’re not meant to go outside, Scaramouche had told you, the first time it became clear that you were not going to waltz out of the stately manor he’d brought you to for the wedding in order to take in the scenery. 

And so… you don’t go outside anymore. Not in the traditional sense. You rest in covered litters with the windows tacked shut and he’s not above smacking your hand if you try to lift up the corners to catch a glimpse of whatever (or whoever) waits outside. Of course, when he’s not accompanying you, your pitiful looks sometimes convince one of the guards to let you keep one flap untouched so that you can take a peek.

But seeing flashes of the world you used to live in are not the same as truly being within it. The ghost of a breeze against your half-hidden face is not the same as basking in the sunshine. Hearing the sounds of life from a village as you’re carried through it is not the same as stopping at a market stall to buy a treat, asking someone how their day is going, and absorbing the hustle and bustle of everyone around you.

There is no substitute for living out in the world. 

You just don’t know how to convince Scaramouche of that fact.

--

There is a fine line between gratitude and ingratitude, between obedience and surliness, and Scaramouche finds that you walk it all too well. 

It doesn’t matter how much he takes away; how much he removes the temptation by tacking up screens or keeping you within interior apartments, free from all the noise and sights and smells of the outside. You still want to go outside. Something about it calls to you, pulling on your sleeves, no matter what he does.

He loves to hear your voice, nightingale that you are, but sometimes he is so gravely tempted to press a finger to your lips and tell you to hush. 

No matter how much he tries to occupy your mind with something different. Better. Himself, most often (for you should be grateful for that) but things that no one else could say he gave them. Gifts. Trinkets. Things that suited your interests, which he knew very well, because he hangs onto every word that comes from your mouth.

Even the ones that drive him mad. 

At least until you learn to stop saying things that grate his ears and the space where his heart should be. 

The pleadings that come so softly and sweetly--but if that was all, he could manage. It’s the way that you weave your thoughts into every conversation like a pattern in a tapestry--remarking on the weather conditions in regions that the two of you might be traveling in, asking if the retinue had encountered certain flora or animals during the journey. You want to know about the world; you want to be in the world. 

Little things, little threads, connecting you to a world that isn’t exclusively him… why has nothing successfully cut them from your grasping fingers? 

--

“They only blossom under certain conditions, you know.” Your voice is soft and lilting, carrying on the one-sided conversation over a shared table of delicate foods. You take bites in between your verbal fascination with the local flora, a subject you’re all too keen to share with him. “The flowers are said to be so lovely that people have wept at the sight of them. And the fragrance…” You sigh a little, and pick a piece of fruit to nibble on. “There’s nothing like it. Or so I’m told.” 

A pause. You glance at him, eyelashes practically fluttering, then look back at your dishes. 

“And… I’ve never seen one in person,” you add as you reach for another helping of fruit. “I wonder what they’re like.” 

Do you think he doesn’t know what you’re trying to do? Looking at him so sweetly, asking how he finds the food, interspersing dinner with notions of flowers blooming right outside the borrowed manor the two of you have been living in for this current assignment.

But he won’t give in. He won’t be manipulated, not even by you. 

Still… that doesn’t mean he can’t try to fulfill this hunger of yours. Much like filling a better, a taste should be enough to keep you from grumbling. 

Within the week, he has some unlucky Fatui tasked with the mission of cutting a fresh bouquet of the very flowers that you were waxing on about so prettily. And you wake up one morning to find them on the nightstand next to your bed, set in a clear vase.

He thinks that you’ll smile, and thank him, and if all goes well, he won’t have to hear any more not-so-subtle hints about your desire to go outside.

But you don’t smile and fling yourself at his feet, thanking him for such a thoughtful, fine gift. You don’t tell him that this is all you need--the flowers he gifts you, the clothes he has painstakingly crafted to suit our form and above all, him. 

Instead your hand goes to your mouth, covering the smallest of gasps. 

And, well, he thinks--you’re surprised. That’s all. That’s to be expected., if anything. You did often complain about the monotony of your days, so a little surprise was bound to get a reaction from you. 

But instead of breaking into a grin and thanking him, your hand reaches out to touch the delicate blossoms. Like they’re going to break. More than that--like there’s something wrong. 

“How much prettier they would be in nature…” Your lips curve downward, a soft frown that feels aimed right at him. “I’m sorry that you cut them…”

“What is it?” And if there is a snap in his voice,  you surely couldn’t blame him.  You are so difficult to please, and hiding the fact that he wants to please you at all is a tiring chore all on its own. You exhaust him as much as you fill him.

Sometimes, you make him want to scream.

He’ll take out his pent-up irritation on someone else. Irritation that is not at you, but with you. Yet not with you as well. It’s all a jumbled mess that he doesn’t want to untangle, and he won’t. He’ll shove it down deep into some cavernous hole, perhaps the one that exists inside of him no matter how hard he tries, and move on with his day.

If only you would stop looking at those flowers like they were broken glass.

--

You’re gone. The space that you occupy (the left half of the shared bed, all wrapped in blankets and often clutching a pillow instead of him, a trait he does not find endearing but does not wish to push on) is empty, bereft of anything but cool rumpled sheets.

There’s fear, at first. Fear that something has happened. Someone has taken you. Perhaps it was Her… perhaps She, of all the unholy things, has slithered past his defenses and snatched you up just to snap another piece from his broken patchwork body. 

It doesn’t have to be Her, though. He has many enemies. And enemies will target your weakest point, and you, you, you. You are exactly that to him. 

So there is fear, yes, that you have been snatched away and perhaps you are already dead, and they took you not for blackmail but for some kind of revenge. To see him wither. 

But then he retrieves the lantern from the dresser and lights it, the warm glow illuminating the silent, heavy room. He can feel his breath quickening, his chest tightening, and he doesn’t know why or what to do with any of it.

It only gets worse when he realizes that there is no sign of forced entry. No broken door-locks, no sprinkles of glass on the rugs, no drops of blood on the windowsill to mark where you might have been dragged through.

The fear ebbs away, replaced by a sour, sickly feeling of betrayal. 

You’ve left him. After all he’s given you. All he’s done for you. 

Yes, he’s taken away your freedom, but you didn’t have the capacity to understand why that was not something to begrudge him for. Freedom was not for delicate things that needed to be kept alive, protected, harbored from the rest of the world. 

He clutches the lantern in one hand and storms out of the room, still wearing his night-clothes. The hallways are dim, barely light by small windows that let in a trickle of moonlight. He listens. 

You couldn’t have gone far, and you’d better hope he catches you himself before morning, because if he has to engage a search party on  your behalf, no one (least of all the Fatui stationed with him) will be enjoying it.

He dismisses one of the guards who spots him. He doesn’t want them involved, not yet. He pushes out one of the side doors and begins to walk the perimeter of the grounds. You might have gone off into the forest, or perhaps you went down the paved path, hoping to find a traveler who might help you.

He is about to decide which option to take when he hears something from behind him, near a half-broken brick enclosure that had seen better days. Were you hiding in there? Trying to trick him? He couldn’t put it past you. 

He braces himself, feeling something thrum through him that made him want to turn away and rush forward all at once, and walks through the open gate of the enclosure. 

And… you’re there.

Sitting in the midst of a garden, some untended thing that was left here by the previous tenants, before it was abandoned and absorbed into the network of buildings useful to the Fatui. And to him, for keeping you in one secure location for months on end.

It was wild and overgrown, and some of the rocks creating the garden path were moss-covered. It’s a wonder you didn’t slip on them, he thinks, and there’s a flash of fear mingled with his irritation. How could you do something as stupid as sneak outside at night, in the dark, and walk into some unknown, overgrown eyesore? 

You haven’t heard his footsteps, evidently, because you go on standing. You’re swaying a little, and your hands brush the flowers. He can hear you talking to yourself, something low and sweet. He can’t see your face but it’s easy enough to imagine that you’re smiling. 

“What are you doing?” There was an attempt, in his mind, to keep his voice level. But it quakes anyway, with fury and irritation and that still-sour worry that you betrayed him in the night.

He waits. You don’t turn around. He thought that, when you heard his voice, you were going to jump like a scared little animal and apologize and try to smooth things over with your teary lashes and pouting lips.

But you don’t turn around. And when you answer him, it’s not a word, really. It’s mumbling. Low. Almost a groan.

He’s had enough. He walks forward until he can grip your upper arm, and moves to turn you around. But you don’t pout or jerk away or tell him that you just wanted to go outside. You’re looking straight at him but he can tell right away that you don’t truly see him at all.

You’re… asleep. 

Standing up, eyes blinking rapidly as if in the throes of some waking dream, in the middle of a garden.

But asleep, all the same. 

He presses his lips together. You were a nuisance. Truly. He should leave you here, let you wake up in the morning cold and shivering and covered in slick green moss.

Instead, he lifts you up. You flail a little, arms jerking this way and that, but it’s easy enough to grip you close and carry you bridal-style back down the hallway (the Fatui stationed in the hall is wise enough to say absolutely nothing as he sees him returning) and continues until he can lay you gently down onto your side of the bed.

You gasp, then, perhaps half-waking. But it’s eased enough when your hands instinctively grab your pillow and curl up with it. 

Before heading back into bed, he grabs a fire poker and slides it through the handles of your bedroom doorway. You wouldn’t be getting out, not in your sleep, anyway.

His dreams that night are fitful.

--

The first thing you realize upon awakening is that you’d really rather go back to sleep, because your dream was lovely. You were in a garden, fragrant and lovely. There was cool fresh air on your face and grass under your toes and sounds, real sounds. Birds and insects buzzing and everything that is forever kept on the other side of walls and windows now.

Over breakfast, you smile, and serve your husband his dishes before you tuck into your own. And is it wrong that you want to tell him about your dream? Is it wrong that you hope it will make him finally let you go outside, even just for a little while?

“I had a lovely dream last night,” you say, smiling with what you hope is sweetness and not desperation. “I was in a garden…”

You don’t see the goosebumps that run up his arms at your words.

--

You sleepwalk the next night. And the next. And the next. He doesn’t know how you manage to get the bar off the door every time, how you evade the guards, how you don’t wake him up… but you do. 

Always going to the same place, the damned garden, with its stubborn flowers and broken paths.

Well. If one vase of flowers is not enough to keep you satisfied (and more importantly, inside) perhaps he needs to take it a few steps further. 

He gifts you more flowers. Bundles of them, baskets of them, stuffed into vases and pots and cracked pans his underlings found in the kitchen storage room. 

And while the rooms of the manor are soon a garden, filled with cloying blossoms and greenery that brings its fair share of insects lurking about, it doesn’t make you stop talking about the world that you’re supposedly “missing” out there. 

Not just the flowers, but the animals. The people. The markets. 

The life, teeming with every little thing, good and bad, that makes up this world. 

Most disturbingly of all: The sleepwalking continues.

What more can he give you without giving you the freedom that would break him apart?

--

It’s not that the sound of a bird in the morning is unusual. It’s just that they are normally muffled, as there are no trees near the window of the bedroom.

But the chirping that you hear now is so close that it might as well be in your ear. Groggy, rubbing away the dust of sleep in your eyes, you sit up…

And find that there is a silver bird cage sitting on top of your dresser, next to a wilting vase of flowers from a few days before. 

It’s a pretty thing. Small and  yellow. A pretty thing in a pretty cage. Another gift from your husband, after the mountains of flowers, the wreaths of blooming vines, the meals, the clothes, the comfort…

--

He can never get used to waking up without you beside him. No matter how many times he easily finds you and brings you back, mumbling and bleary, there is always those terrible, agonizing moments of panic when he thinks: you’ve left him.

But you’re not alone in the garden. 

You’re holding the cage, clutching it to your chest. He wonders what will happen if your sleeping muscles dream of something else; will you drop the cage and let it clatter to the ground? Will the delicate bird inside be jostled so terribly that it dies? And what would he do, then, to ensure that this doesn’t make you even less satisfied with your isolated life?

But you don’t drop it. One thing he has learned from watching you sleepwalk is that you are surprisingly nimble about it. 

He watches, lips pressed into a frown, as you slowly lower the cage to one of the formerly ornate pedestal tables in the garden. It must have been pretty once. Now, it’s mossy and gray and damp. 

It doesn’t surprise him, what you do next. Your fingers, shaking but surprisingly deft, undo the latch on the door and swing it open. The bird inside hops around for a few moments, tilting its head to and fro, before it launches itself into the air and flies away.

You mumble something, sweet and slurry. A farewell, perhaps. Who knows what really goes on in your pretty head when you sleep? 

And it’s his cue to take you back inside. You still fight, just a little, when he picks you up. Flail your arms and legs, until he’s held you tight enough that your muscles seem to accept the hold and relax.

He looks down at your bleary, half-awake face. Your eyes tend to close when he carries you. Perhaps your body knows that it’s okay to let them rest, now that someone else is carrying you. Holding you. Protecting you.

A pity that your mind couldn’t understand that fact. 

Sometimes he considers chaining you up at night. It would be the most practical solution. It might even ease his fears every time he wakes to find you gone, and he’s forced to track you down to this nighttime garden that no one else would bother entering.

But there’s something in him, hard and sick, that wonders. If he chains you up, he might just free you in his sleep, like you’ve freed the bird in the cage. 

It’s easier to pretend you aren’t his prisoner when your chains are invisible, after all. 

1 year ago

Platonic yandere fatui(plus the tsaritsa) thoughts? Doesn't matter if reader is young, teenager or adult lol

Once again going purely off vibes bc we don’t know much about most of them!

Just gonna write small excerpts for each of them but feel free to request more in-depth hcs for any of them! Scaramouche already has a full set here! 💕💕

Pierro is the strict father figure. What he says goes and will be obeyed without question. If he tells you to stay with one of the harbingers for the day then that’s where he expects to find you. When he gets to spend time with you himself though, he’s a lot softer and happy to do whatever activities you would like to

Capitano is like a second shadow. He doesn’t really interact with you face to face, preferring to stand nearby and watch over you like a guardian. The type of friend that scares off people who make you uncomfortable except 10x scarier

Columbina is the clingy best friend. She’s practically attached to your hip at all times and loves to drape herself over you at every opportunity. She gets super pouty when you pay more attention to others in her presence

Arlecchino is the doting older sister. She brushes your hair for you, she makes you breakfast, she escorts you if you’re going out anywhere. But she also likes to keep you on a strict routine and doesn’t take nicely to transgressions. It’s for your safety after all

Dottore is the scary cousin. The one you dread to spend time with because he’s always up to something and insists you help with his schemes. Sometimes he makes you sit and watch whilst he does autopsies on the recently deceased, and you could swear some of them look eerily familiar

Signora is the pampered friend. She likes to show you off by walking side by side with you. But not before she’s picked out what you’re wearing, and done your hair and makeup. She wants to be seen with you, but you have to match her standard. You have to show everyone why she’s the only one fit to stand at your side as your dearest friend

Pantalone is like your rich best friend that buys you whatever you desire. If you look at anything even a fraction of a second too long, Pantalone will have his wallet out before you can blink. He’s also definitely not above bribing people to stay away from you if he doesn’t like them hanging around

Sandrone is the smothering mum friend. She pampers you and loves to dress you up and just sit around with you. Doesn’t let you do anything yourself in fear of hurting yourself and insists on leaving everything to her puppets

Tartaglia is like the fun older brother. He already has experience looking after his younger siblings so you’ll be joining them. He likes to take you to fights to show off but won’t let you try incase you hurt yourself. He is fiercely over protective as well, anyone who dares to even look at you wrong can expect to be on the wrong end of his bow

The Tsaritsa is like an overprotective mother. She fears for your safety out in the big scary world, so she keeps you safe in the expanses of Snezhnaya where she and her trusted harbingers can watch over you

2 years ago

fatui (energetic) fem!y/n who has obvious feelings for the balladeer and the whole fatui members knows it? tysm 🤩

of course anon! i hope you like it >w<

warnings: reader is very energetic and gets flustered easily, slight childe x reader or childe x zhongli if you squint, slight zhongli x reader, new harbingers, unedited :>

Fatui (energetic) Fem!y/n Who Has Obvious Feelings For The Balladeer And The Whole Fatui Members Knows

"scaramouche!"

he only had a moment to see who called his name before he was tackled into a hug, groaning and huffing angrily. after he braced himself, he violently tried to pry you off of him with much difficulty as you were clinging to him like a spider monkey.

"what? and stop with the clinging, {name}, it's annoying."

"well sorry! i've just been really excited lately!"

"oh and to what do i owe the pleasure of experiencing your excitement," he said and rolled his eyes, turning around and getting ready to walk away. his hand pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, closing his eyes to get rid of his aching headache.

"we get to go on a trip to liyue together!"

scaramouche swore he'd never done a double take so fast, nearly to the point where a normal human neck would break. "what?"

"we're going to liyue together! her majesty's orders."

he immediately sped-walked away, not even paying attention to the sound of your energetic voice calling his name in confusion and disappointment to his reaction. office. office. i need to get to my office. immediately, he slammed the door shut and locked it, pressing his back to the wooden door and letting out frantic pants to try and ease his heart that was running laps in his chest. 

this was going to be so bad, his heart can't take a lot more of this. everyone knew he had a crush on you, even the tsaritsa herself knew of the balladeer's hopeless romantic-like feelings he harbored for your energetic self. this was a set up and he knows it. he thinks he has no chance, absolutely no way he can get someone like you – someone who lit up a whole room with their presence alone, who could turn even the most crappy situations into a really happy one, you who could make all the harbingers become friendly with each other every single time – who is out of his league as his girlfriend. absolutely no-

"scara? hello?"

"i guess he's not in there," tartaglia said with a small sigh. "i could have sworn i heard him come this way?"

"don't be ridiculous," pantalone scoffed. "he probably took off to liyue without you, {name}."

"oh what a pity," dottore said with a few tsks. "you know what, {name}? i'll take you with me on my next mission. i'll go request it from the tsari-"

as soon as one can blink, scaramouche opens the door, pulls you into his office, shuts the door, and locks it. you let out a small yelp when you felt him pull you inside, and the rest of the harbingers were staring in slight confusion and amusement at the door.

"what just happened," dottore asked, comically confused.

"i think he's jealous," tartaglia laughed proudly and brushed his clothing before beginning to walk away with the other harbingers. "our job is done here, my good fellows."

"you're a terrible person, tartaglia," pantalone scoffed. 

"gotta keep up with you all somehow," tartaglia mumbled.

meanwhile, you looked at scaramouche with wide eyes and a shocked expression until a smile broke out across your face, "scara! i knew you wouldn't leave me!"

"why'd you bring them with you," he scoffed. "you know i despise them."

"they just tagged along," you muttered. "i didn't want to bring them… but hey at least you're talking to me now!"

"just give me the mission briefing," scaramouche said. "before i kick you out."

"well," you drawled. "we have a meeting with morax about a future deal."

"isn't that tartaglia's usual mission," scaramouche asked, leaning on his desk a few feet away from you both, making you walk closer. "he's always over in liyue, so isn't he going to go again?"

"hey don't kill the messenger bird," you raised your hands in mock defence. "i'm not in charge of this."

"tch. fine. when do we leave and how long are we there for?"

"well," you checked your watch. "we leave in a few hours. and we're there for a day and a half."

"alright," he sighed in annoyance. "i'll meet you at the docks."

"yay," you cheered and ran to him, engulfing him in a large hug, "see you there! i'm so excited to go!"

"g-get off of me."

later that day, you met up with scaramouche at the docks, seeing almost all the other fatui members see you off. 

"{name}, here. bring this with you," arlecchino gave you a bag of mora. "some extra for shopping in case you need it. keep whatever you don't spend."

"r-really? thank you so much," you said happily and hugged her. "i'll return the favour! i swear it!"

"make sure you eat at wanmin restaurant," tartaglia added happily. "i'm sure scaramouche would love to take you there."

scaramouche almost choked on his water when he heard tartaglia's proposition. "i'm not taking her anywhere."

"oh come on," columbina chirped. "we all know you want some alone time with {name}~!"

everyone let out small "ooh"'s and "aww"'s while scaramouche bit the inside of his cheek to stop the blush rising from his neck, capitano being the only one who shook his head in mock disappointment. "come on you all. they don't have all day to waste time with idle chatter."

he turned to you, "may your travels be safe and swift. and remember, for glory to her majesty the tsaritsa."

"yes sir," you said. "the mission will be a success, i know it."

"i expect results from you. {name}, balladeer."

scaramouche nodded and rolled his eyes, then spoke to you coldly, "let's go."

the day grew late as the ship rocked against the waves, clearing the icy waters before smoothly gliding on the water. the ocean sparkled in the sunset, small fish jumping out of the water occasionally to avoid the oncoming ship. 

"hey."

you turned around and smiled, "hey! how can i help you?"

"aren't you going to bed soon," scaramouche asked. "you must be tired, are you not?"

"i'm not tired," you spoke cheerfully. "i feel great!"

"right," scaramouche spoke, moreso to himself. "i forgot."

you giggled and continued to watch your surroundings, seeing the crimson horizon. pink fluffy clouds framed the setting sun's glow, the mist from the ocean only adding to the view.

"it's beautiful," you murmured.

"yeah," scaramouche mumbled looking at you. "you are."

"huh?"

"nothing," scaramouche scoffed. he walked over to you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the lower deck where you both could rest. "let's get rest now. i don't want you slacking off on the mission."

you blushed and nodded, answering with a cheerful, "okay! whatever you say!"

the next morning, you both arrived at the harbour, making you sigh with content. "wow, liyue is so beautiful! i'll never get tired of it!"

"well we're not here for that {name}," scaramouche scoffed. "we're here to make a deal, and we're leaving right after."

you pouted, "but ajax said you should take me to wanmin…"

"why are you using his first name," scaramouche asked with jealousy. 

"he told me to call him like that," you mumbled. "oh! am i not allowed to? sorry…"

"not around me," scaramouche grumbled. "you're not allowed to call anyone besides me by their first name. got it?"

"what's gotten into you," you scoffed with a blush on your face. "i don't even know your name."

"kunikuzushi will work. don't use it unless we're alone."

you blushed harder, committing his name to memory. scaramouche could see your cheeks burning, the same flustered expression on your face that he's gotten used to. 

"don't tell me you're getting flustered, {name}."

he walked closer to you, smirking and leaning into your face. scaramouche placed a hand on your forehead, "so red already?"

"i'm j-just glad you trust me with your name," you said happily while trying to cool off your face. "now let's go! you owe me dinner later!"

"i never said i owed you anything," he grumbled while you pulled him along with you on your quest to find zhongli. good thing you were pulling him along with you, because neither of you could see the flustered expression on each other's faces. 

"so, the two of you want to negotiate mining expeditions here in liyue? i'm afraid i'm not the one you need to be asking for permission," the ex-archon said with the sip of his tea. 

"look at it this way," scaramouche said next to you. "we need your blessings as well. it'd be far too inappropriate to make any decisions without your approval as well. you did rule over this land for quite a long time, morax."

"i go by zhongli now," he corrected him. "but yes, you are quite right. however, i only care for the prosperity of liyue, as it is now ruled by the people. no longer are these lands ruled by the immortal. you do not need my blessings."

"so," you slid a contract over. "i assume you're alright with the mining proposition? we'll go to ningguang afterwards"

he looked at you and then chuckled, "that is alright with me little one. where do i need to sign?"

"here and here," you pointed out. after passing him a pen, you turned to the waiter, "check please."

scaramouche scoffed from next to you, "i'll pay. don't worry about it."

you grabbed his hand that held a bag of mora, "oh no you don't! i'll take care of this one. you can think of this as my way of making you treat me to wanmin restaurant later!"

scaramouche was about to break free, but he felt how iron hard your grip was on his hand. he couldn't break free even if he wanted to, so he settled for a small thank you while you handed the mora to the waitress. however, your hand was still over his even though the waitress already left. not like scaramouche would say anything either.

"thank you both for a wonderful lunch," zhongli said happily while he finished his tea. "i'll consider this contract as repayment."

"no worries," you said happily. "i'm glad we have your permission. we'll be heading off now, so thank you!"

"of course young one," he slightly smiled. "enjoy your stay in liyue and send my regards to childe for the mora."

"i will!"

it wasn't the first time you met with zhongli, as in fact you came to liyue a lot with childe during breaks. you finished your missions quite quickly, meaning you could stop off in liyue to see him for a day or two before going to see scaramouche, who you spent a lot of time with.

which resulted in your massive, obvious feelings for him.

you let go of scaramouche's hand before standing up, sending a thank you to the waitress, the three of you promptly leaving and going your separate ways. all of a sudden, you felt his hand brush against yours, making you blush. 

"so, what time."

"huh? what do you mean what time," you asked and looked at him. 

"what time do you want to have dinner," he looked away from you with a small scoff, ears faintly glowing red. "we have to be back by tomorrow, so keep that in mind."

"scaramouche! you're gonna take me to wanmin!"

you laughed and hugged his waist, him trying to squirm and get free, "let go of me!"

"thank you thank you thank you! how can i ever repay you?"

"treat it as a date," scaramouche said and stopped squirming. his words resonated in your head, making you immediately let go and step away from him. his heart dropped to his stomach, did you move away because he made you feel uncomfortable?

"huh?"

"treat it as a first date," he mumbled. "i won't say it again. date me."

your eyes sparkled with tears, "scaramouche…"

immediately without missing a beat you ran and hugged him, "of course i will! i've been waiting forever, you know!"

he patted your head, an arm coming to hug you closer to him. to be quite frank, he had no idea what he was doing. his body moved for him. "how have you managed to be even more energetic…"

"only because i'm so happy! now, about that dinner," you smiled mischievously and took his hand. "let's go now!"

"we just ate!"

"well i can't wait! i've been waiting for years, scaramouche."

"ugh… so annoying…"

you laughed and pulled scaramouche along, a small smile on his face while he heard your giggles of happiness. in the background, a certain ginger was standing and watching with an ex-archon who had a bag of mora in his hand.

"i told you it'd work! {name} and the balladeer were meant to be!"

"such a hopeless romantic," the ex-archon mused. "but thank you for the mora. i didn't realise you were coming today."

"i had to make time," childe smiled. "i couldn't miss this important day."

1 year ago

Headcanons for sibling scara with an affectionate reader who pinches and kisses his cheek just because he’s cute and likes picking him up?

SAGAU: THE GOD OF TEYVAT WONT LET GO OF ME PLEASE SEND HELP-

Headcanons For Sibling Scara With An Affectionate Reader Who Pinches And Kisses His Cheek Just Because

❀ synopsis: you are the clingy one, and you so happen to be a god with super strength. how do the three different phases of Scaramouche handle the situation?

❀ notes: this was supposed to be sibling headcanons but then realized just how ambiguous I made the relationship between the reader and Scaramouche. So this can be implied as romantic or platonic, or if this is regular genshin or sagau.

❀ pronouns: they/them

Headcanons For Sibling Scara With An Affectionate Reader Who Pinches And Kisses His Cheek Just Because

Kabukimono with a clingy God reader: Omg, he is so overwhelmed with joy and embarrassment, please give him a minute to process his emotions. If you picked him up in private he would immediately wrap his arms around you to try and hug you. He would even request for you to spin him around if you didn't do so yet. In public, though he would short-circuit and shyly ask for you to please put him down, if you don't he will do his best to shrink in your clothing if he sees any of the villagers staring.

Pinching his cheeks is a different story, it was ok at first but then he grew to not like them. Mostly because it feels weird if you do it, and maybe even painful if you're not gentle enough. He would pout before (gently) slapping your hand away before you can pinch his cheeks. But then he would realize what he did before hugging and affirming how sorry he was and you can pinch his cheeks as much as you want please don't leave him alone-

Headcanons For Sibling Scara With An Affectionate Reader Who Pinches And Kisses His Cheek Just Because

Scaramouche with a clingy God reader: Soft moments are over, have a scummy Scaramouche to replenish your palette. He enjoys the affection, but only in private. If you are taller than him he would be even more frustrated with how you can easily sweep him off his feet and pick him up. His face bloomed a deep shade of red as he demands that you put him down immediately. If you did this in front of any of his subordinates he will feel a huge chunk of his pride die inside of him.

Similar to when he was Kabukimono he wouldn't like the cheek pinching. While pinching his cheeks he will just give you this look that says "You-will-forget-what-its-like-to-eat-solid-food-if-you-don't-let-go-of-my-cheek", but he soon learns to appreciate the small piece of affection and even mimic your actions by pinching your cheek too.

albeit harsher since he is petty like that

Headcanons For Sibling Scara With An Affectionate Reader Who Pinches And Kisses His Cheek Just Because

Wanderer with a clingy God reader: Unlike these two, he is SHAMELESS. Nobody remembers him anymore so what does he have to worry about? Forget about you picking him up in public, he will be the one to drag you back to the camp if he wants to spend time with you. Any sort of physical affection is greedily gobbled up by this man. He would act like a tsundere in public unless he was jealous and you decided to pick him up to prove that you're taken. In that case he would be smug.

Pinching his cheeks would be a bit annoying but the more you do it, the more he grows to like it. It would come to the point he would lean onto your hand if you ever do it. And then it would just be you holding his face. He likes your hand, they are very warm...


Tags
1 year ago
... Working Under The Balladeer's Orders As One Of The Members Of The Fatui.
... Working Under The Balladeer's Orders As One Of The Members Of The Fatui.
... Working Under The Balladeer's Orders As One Of The Members Of The Fatui.
... Working Under The Balladeer's Orders As One Of The Members Of The Fatui.

... Working under the Balladeer's orders as one of the members of the Fatui.

You were new, and Scaramouche knew that well. He was even told by one of the harbingers that they were letting you work under his guidance as you were not... Fit to follow the stronger harbingers.

He saw you as a nuisance once. He never really liked you, and he thought that you were simply annoying. Repulsive, even. It was laughable with how many times he'd watch you fall.

However, he couldn't lie and said that when others did it... He found it annoying. Irritating.

You were his property, just like how everyone is his own to use and break. That was no exception, and everyone knew that.

So why the hell do they think they can toy with you?

He had found himself making sure your missions go smoothly, even going so far as to isolate you from everyone else. Hell, he even made sure that those who decide to pair with you knew the extremes that he will take should they fuck around and get you hurt.

If a single hair had been misplaced, hell will break loose.

Scaramouche is a ticking time bomb, and for his poor, sweet, accident and chaos magnet of a darling... He found himself about to explode.

Maybe, just maybe, he was aware of that. And maybe you were, too.

After all, he knew that if anyone had decided to simply hurt you so much as even breathing wrong in your direction, he would have their necks faster than they can beg.

Love is a twisted thing.

And Scaramouche will twist it till it breaks.

... Working Under The Balladeer's Orders As One Of The Members Of The Fatui.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023


Tags
1 year ago

Dark Reality (Filler)

Scaramouche x kitsune!fem!reader

Dark Reality (Filler)

synopsis | After all these years, you see your beloved enemy once more. And again, you two stand on opposing sides.

content | angst... i think

cw | none

a/c | @/ike_0910 on X (twt)

taglist | @ayanasss, @kunisnaomi, @swivy123, @blacky-rose, @cottencandysky, @i-ineedhelp, @vixialuvs, @shutingstar, @ashfrommars4, @xschizoe

a/n | a small filler for Flashing memories bcz the support has been overwhelming and it doesn't seem like it's winning my 300 follower poll 😭

If you haven't read the previous parts before, I strongly advise you to! Links are right here:

Flashing memories (1) + (1.5) here!

Dark Reality (Filler)
Dark Reality (Filler)
Dark Reality (Filler)

"THE WRATH OF THE GODS FILLS THIS FACTORY, and it feeds on your anger..." a husky laugh accompanied these words, as the Balladeer neared the traveller in slow steps. The traveller fell to the ground, their eyes closing as they struggled to keep themselves awake.

"Ah, what's happening..." Paimon immediately flew down to the traveller, shaking their arm frantically, "Get up...!" she yells panic-stricken. Their breaths were erratic, uneven as they tried to keep their eyes open, before they saw a figure walk ahead of their fallen figure. And soon their eyes closed.

Scaramouche tilted his head as he saw a woman approaching, clothed in a typical shrine maiden's attire and a mask of a fox covered her face. But he knew who it was. He could recognise you from anywhere, after all. You recognised him as well, the corners of your lips tugging downwards. After all these years, you two had to meet yet again. Paimon looked over to you, confused why you, Yae Miko's right hand, was here.

"Well if it isn't my beloved." he chuckles, crossing his arms as he stared at you. The mask only covered half of your face, the lower half was on full display for him, "Isn't it a wondrous meeting? We're fated to cross paths, aren't we, darling?" he smirked, his sharp gazes digging into the mask you wore. Then his smirk dropped, a scowl replacing his features. "What do you want?"

"Miss Tsuki? Do... do you know him?" Paimon flew over to hide behind your left shoulder, holding tightly onto the fabric of your clothes as she whispers not so quietly. You remain silent, glancing at her for a while before turning your gaze back to Scaramouche. "We... were acquaintanted a long time ago."

"Acquainted? Have you already forgotten all our lovely memories together?" he scoffed, "Or do you simply wish to forget me?" he knew you too well... or maybe he just guessed right. But you didn't let that faze you. You truly wished to bury those memories back deep into the forgotten corner of your mind. If it only were so simple.

"Hey! Don't talk to miss Tsuki like that! She would never ever hang out with an evil Harbinger like you!" the little fairy by your side jumped up from behind your figure to protect you, but was quickly shut down by the wrathful indigo that met her eyes. "'Tsuki', huh?" he scoffed once more, followed by an amused chuckle, "Since when did you go by such a distasteful name? Did that fox woman give it to you? I wonder..."

He paused, faking an expression as if he was deep in his thoughts, before muttering out your true name. The one he had given you all those years ago. "Did you not like that name?" he hummed, asking it as if it was a genuine question, "Nevermind that, makes it much more bearable to know you're not hopelessly clinging to that silly past."

"What do you want from the traveller?" you cut him off, not wanting to listen to his rambles. You did not need another reminder of what once was and what shall never be again. "Straight to the point, aren't you? I thought you might want to chat with me a bit longer. I suppose not." he faked a sigh, "I'm only here to kill the traveller."

Paimon shrieked in response, but you quickly shut her up. "I can't let you do that. I need them for something important." you reply, leaving out the fact that you were send by Yae Miko. She must've had a hunch that Scaramouche was involved in this damned factory or else she wouldn't have given you this important task of retrieving the traveller.

"As if I'd hand them over to you that easily." he smiles at you tauntingly. He opened his fist, a flicker of Electro created by his delusion danced across the palm of his hand. "You'll have to fight me if you're bold enough." he remarks, narrowing his eyes at your figure. In terms of power, you knew you couldn't beat him. Miko has already informed you about the Doctor breaking the seal to Scaramouche's abilites.

But you came prepared.

"I'm not searching for a fight. I'm here to trade with you." you say, hand reaching into your sleeve, before pulling out the gnosis. The one thing he was aiming for all his life. And now you held it in your possession right before his very being. He narrowed his eyes even further at the item in your hand. That was all he needed to achieve his purpose...

"I'll trade the traveller's life for the Electro gnosis." you spoke confidently, waiting for his reaction. He remained quiet, before a chuckle escaped his lips. It didn't take long for him to burst into a laughter of amusement. You furrowed your eyebrows behind the mask you wore, confused why he was laughing.

Once he calmed down, his indigo hues land back on your mask. "To think that the person I've abandoned becomes the one who's the most useful to me..." he mutters, a smirk adorning his lips as he reached out to take the gnosis from you. "I'll take you up on that deal. Now hand it to me."

You hesitated a bit. You weren't sure why Miko would ask you to trade the gnosis for the traveller's life. After all, this small chess piece held overwhelming powers... to trade it for the life of an outlander didn't seem beneficial to you. But you did as told anyways, throwing the gnosis over to him, as Scaramouche swiftly caught it with his hand.

Paimon watched this trade happen with wide eyes, but when she saw you giving the sign to leave, she did as asked. "I've brought two of my people with me. They are standing outside on guard, so be a dear and notify them to help carry the traveller." you tell her and she quickly flew out on your command.

Your turn your back to him to check up on the traveller, wanting to leave this place as soon as possible since you'd rather not spend another second here with him. But he stopped you, before you could take even a single step. "Who said I'd let you leave this place alive? I only traded the traveller's life for this gnosis, not yours." he said and you freeze in your place. A miscalculation, one might say... you didn't expect him to be this aggressive after already getting what he had come for.

You turn back around, glaring at him behind your mask. "What do you want from me this time?" you questioned him. He merely chuckled in response, taking a few steps closer to you. "Not so feisty, 'Tsuki'." he called you by that name mockingly, "Let's make another deal." he suggested, analysing your face for any reaction.

You pursed your lips, your nerves getting to your head but you didn't let it show. With bated breath, you prepared yourself for his next words or actions he might take. If he intended to kill you, you wouldn't go down without a fight.

"How about you come back to me?" he finally says, a hint of a soft tone was audible, layered underneath his usual cold one. It was a question you've longed to hear all those years ago... how long have you been dreaming to go back to him, to have him embrace you and have him tell you he never meant what he had said back then. You were tempted to... but you couldn't. You knew you shouldn't, your heart was squeezing ever so tightly in your chest.

This question came five hundred years too late. And so you knew your answer. "I'd rather die." you lie skillfully, your hands clenching tensely. And this time he bought your lie, his arms dropping to his sides, before he lets out a sigh. "I've figured." he says, before staring at you with cold eyes. "Then take off your mask. Let me see your face one last time and I'll let you off."

Silence surrounded the two of you once more. You didn't want him to see your visage, because you knew that he was able read your expression all too well. But you still have things to do and goals to accomplish before you could die peacefully. So your hand reluctantly reached up to your face, your fingers curling around your wooden texture, before slowly taking it off and revealing your face to him. The familiar face that he once knew and loved.

A face that seemed to have always smiled at him whenever he looked at it. A welcoming expression that always forgave him for anything and everything. Or that's how he had remembered it in his memories. That's what they all were now... mere memories. Because right now, your eyes looked pained and hateful. And these emotions were all directed towards him.

Before any words could be uttered, Paimon flew back inside with two men behind her. They quickly picked up the traveller, before being ushered out by the little fairy. You turn around again, your back facing him and you left him standing in that lonely factory, leaving this place without another word.

Outside that wretched cave, you breathe in the fresh air surrounding you. You had to stay rational, but your heart kept clenching with each step away from him. You wanted to go back oh-so-badly, to jump into his arms and reassure yourself that everything is fine again. That everything is good and that nothing will destroy the relationship you two had. But you knew that this wasn't some fairy tale.

You glanced back at the factory again, gazing at it longingly, before ultimately turning back to complete your task and fulfill your duties. That was when a cryo vision formed right before your eyes, the orb glowing strongly as it descended from the sky and into the palm of your hand. As you found yourself in a crossroad of decisions, this vision drove you to look back one more time at the place where Scaramouche still was. And you decided that you'll continue on your own path, hoping that this won't be the last time you two cross roads...

Dark Reality (Filler)

(extra snippet:)

A sigh escaped his lips, as Scaramouche turned to make his escape as well. He had been bluffing the whole time... He knew all too well that he didn't have it in him to actually lay even a finger on you. It was just like back then, when you two met during his rampage at the Raiden Gokaden. He just couldn't kill you even if he wanted to...

The Harbinger ran his fingers through his indigo locks. He must've been crazy to ask you to come back to him... but it was alright, at least he was able to get something out of this. To see your face one last time before he'll ascend to godhood. Soon he'll become an almighty being and all will be well again. Everything will be alright again and he'll get you back eventually, no matter the cost...

Dark Reality (Filler)

MASTERLIST | INFO


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koyoim - ᯽koyoi᯽
᯽koyoi᯽

don't hmu currently obsessed with scaramouche - 19 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑙𝑑

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