The Art Of Being Gentle.

behind the screens (3k milestone special event)

summary. a sneak peak of what happens to your characters, every time you log in and out of the game

includes. self-aware! and various! genshin men characters

[ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ]

first and foremost, thank you for the continuous support for this writing blog, as it really means a lot to me <3.

behind the screens, is a 3k milestone special event, that has something to do with SAGAU (Self Aware Genshin AU). after knowing that this genre is quite known in the fandom i decided to dedicate an event about this, and tried to create multiple scenarios connected to it.

each scenario, would consists of different sets of characters, that were voted by the voters themselves through a voting form i last posted.

[ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ]

GLITCHES — when they find out that you’re planning to delete the game under a few reasons

feat. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, zhongli, kazuha

YOUR FIRST — they overhear a conversation about who was your first favourite character in the game, and unexpectedly grows jealous about it (soon!)

feat. scaramouche, thoma, childe, xiao, dottore

I’M THEIR FIRST?! — they overhear a conversation about who was your first favourite character in the game, and didn’t expect for their name to come out of it (soon!)

feat. kaeya, cyno, diluc, xiao, heizou

CHARACTER BANNERS — when you do not plan to pull for their character banner (soon!)

feat. xiao, itto, dottore, venti, scaramouche

ONLY FOR YOUR EARS — ‘new’ voice lines about them after becoming self-aware, and only you can be able to hear it (soon!)

feat. childe, kazuha, scaramouche, ayato, dottore

[ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ]

EVICTED — when you kick/bench them out of your team (soon!)

feat. venti, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, thoma

BACK ON TRACK — when you add them back on your team after being benched (soon!)

feat. kaeya, thoma, childe, diluc, heizou

COMPETITION — when you add another character who has the same element as them on the team (soon!)

feat. xiao, heizou, venti, diluc, childe

AUTO-PILOT — what do they do when you haven’t logged in your account yet? (soon!)

feat. xiao, thoma, dottore, zhongli, childe

ISEKAI’D SHENANIGANS — the time has come, you got isekai’d to the game and the first that you see, is your team (soon!)

feat. xiao, venti, zhongli, heizou, diluc

How do the different yanderes "love" you? (plus some tropes(??) i feel like would fit them)

this was honeslty just practice, and it ended up turning into smt kinda decent, i dont love what ive written but i just needed to get our smt

i blame @fatuismooches for being lovely and having such good harbinger thoughts that they've taken over my mind (fuck you[said with affection])

Yandere! Childe, Scaramouche, Dottore(separate) x gn reader

Childe ("soft and sweet" x unloving and hates touch)

He just spoils you left and right, he feels a little bad when he sees the uncomfortable look in your eyes when he kisses you all over, or when he touches you too much. so he has chosen to spoil you rotten until you finally fall for him, or at least see the way he can take care of you and finally kiss him back.

[He loves you, and that should be known by now, so why do you force his hands to do this, "why cant you just love him like he is", those were the last words you heard before he brought something to your lips and made you drink something unknown]

You are incredibly lucky that the 11th Harbinger is this patient with you, but dont push it too much, he can go to more bloody measures of getting you to fall for him if he sees it's needed. dont worry he wont hurt you too much, he loves you too much to do that, but love is complicated and you cant always control whom you fall in love with, so just love him will you, darling?

after all he knows the aphrodisiac he gave you wont last forever, so it would be better to just fall for him manually, right?

Scaramouche (manipulative, powerful x easily manipulated, weak[...i didnt know what to do here lol])

He might seem like he doesn't love at all, but when you aren't being dragged around to missions and meetings, and all alone with him in your shared chambers, he loves to just hug you, maybe litter kisses on your neck and collarbone. you hated it at first, and you still kind of do, but you've long since gotten used to it all.

He show his love for you when he has his hands all over your body as you dress into the clothes he picked out for you. he cant keep himself off of your lovely body, but would kill if anyone even touch a strand of your hair.

But oh how could you try 'nd leave when this weak little puppet is crying in your arms every night, when he has nightmares about you leaving him, dying when he can't be there to protect you... oh how foolish you are, how stupid you must be to fall for such things, as he has long since abandoned the idea of ever letting go of you.

And he'll make sure you dont let go of him either, because you need him. after all he was the one to save you from danger when you were stupid enough to walk too far into a hilichurl camp. you need protection, and he's rgith here willing to give it for "free".

Dottore (crazy scientist and his crazy lover[aka yandere x yandere but worse])

You lvoe each other in ways normal human minds wouldn't dream of ever understanding. he smiled when you gave him a dead body for experimenting, and the worst part? you had the biggest grin on your face, and a massive amount of blood on your hands and clothes, much to the dismay of many onlookers.

And then there's the fact that neither of you even spare a glance at the amount of blood on the others' clothes, or at least it looks like you don't. but when you are in the privacy of your shared bedroom (though filled with dead onlookers in the closet) you reward each other for getting rid of anyone who dares to interrupt, or archons forbid break, the love you two have.

It has been made a daily occurrence for you both to randomly disappear from the building with a fatui agent, who had taken too much attention from the other, and then come back alone with bloodied hands, and being greeted by a two-minute-long kiss when opening the lap doors again.

just two crazy maniacs in love, awwww (if they arent wanted in at least 6 nations they need to be)

thx for reading whatever this is, luv ya -Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

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."

--

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 :>

"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."

HEYYOO! Hope your doing well! I really enjoyed your platonic yandere scaramouche post ! I can't get it outta my head- Keep up the good work!

But I was wondering how would he react to the reader just straight up rebelling ? I'm talking ignoring him, refusing to eat stuff ect..

(sorry if this is a bit too vague)

Aaaa tysm!!!! Here’s your request, I hope you like it!! 💕

TW: yandere behaviour, starvation

He doesn’t take it well to say the least

You’ve both had mini rebellious phases where you’ve refused to talk to each other over small arguments, but those bouts are normally solved after a bit of time to cool down and an apology

But when Scara humbles himself to apologise to you after being unable to take the separation any longer and you still refuse to talk to him? Oh, he’s mad

He doesn’t start by taking it out on you, instead targeting anyone who you talk to in the span of time you’re ignoring him

If you’re not going to talk to him then you’re not going to talk to anyone. He’ll be so aggressive with those you interact with that the best case scenario is them never wanting to even breathe the same air as you for the rest of their lives

He’s truly hoping that the utter isolation from everyone will finally make you crack. He’d never admit it but being ignored by one of the only people he dared to ever consider a friend is a torture worse than death for him

However, his treatment of others only makes you more upset at him. You’d hoped to finally set some boundaries in your friendship with him by ignoring him but it seems that he’s still up to his usual tricks, meaning you’re going to have to try harder

When you refuse to leave your room and stop eating all together, it sends a wave of panic through him

But being the stubborn person that he is, he’d never outwardly admit to that, so he resorts to hurling insults at you through the door to the effect of “starve in there for all I care” and “I never even wanted to see your ugly face anyways”

Yet not even 3 days pass before he’s screaming at you to eat something. To eat before he kills you himself

And by the 5th day, he’s torn the door off the hinges and is begging for you to eat something, spewing apologies left right and centre

It’s such a contrast to anything you’ve ever seen from him before, so contradictory to how you view him that you can’t help but pity him in this state. So you begrudgingly accept his apology, despite knowing he probably doesn’t know what he was supposedly so sorry for

For the next week or so afterwards he insists on making sure you’re eating all of your meals, and despite seemingly being in such a mood with you that he doesn’t want to talk to you, he still insists on asking you a simple question every hour or so to make sure you’re not ignoring him again

As for him learning his lesson, he truly hasn’t seemed to change his ways at all. And if he can’t fix his possessive ways after such a scare, then maybe you’ll just have to accept that’s just the kind of friend he is

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.

platonic au bc i can’t help myself. thinking about how abyss lumine could’ve met scara before his betrayals. how scara comes to view her as a sister, yet lumine only cares about finding aether. how scara feels hurt, though he doesn’t know why, after he finds out she has a brother (her only kin, she said, and he has never wanted to grab her shoulders and yell, what about me?) the betrayal he feels after she leaves to further explore teyvat. thinking abt scara hating aether, the golden boy, taking everything he’s ever wanted as easy as breathing — his mother’s recognition, the admiration of others, and having lumine’s affection as her brother.

and now he’s wanderer, helping aether in his search for his (their) sister. imagine them finally catching up, scara airing out his hurts to her and how betrayed he felt when she left five hundred years ago, only for lumine to look at him and ask who he is.

Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re due to give birth any day now, and you’ve never been so terrified. 

Word Count: 2524

Notes: Yandere, arranged marriage, pregnant afab reader, mentions of physical roughness, non-graphic childbirth descriptions

Your husband, the great and feared Sixth Harbringer, has never been terribly affectionate. As if that would surprise anyone, not that you have anyone you could tell this to; perhaps the gaggle of prim attendants who are frequently at your side, but no–they’re his crows, little spies that will flutter to this side the moment you say anything worth repeating.

It’s the truth, however. He’s never been one to plant soft kisses on your forehead in the morning or wax on about how the beauty of the most stunning blossoms were nothing compared to your smile. He has never told you he loves you, though you’re certain that he wants you–bruised wrists and bruised lips and your currently swollen belly can attest to that.

Keep reading

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 

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. 

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