Coming Home [Yandere Scaramouche X Reader]

currently thinking about 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 and his endless vanity.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 who is revered as the lotus-eyed, twice-born born and golden-sighted. all who look at him are mesmerized, and none are those who can afford to resist his endless charm. the very epitome of beauty in masculine vessels, he defines the perfect balance of yin and yang—being as ethereal as they come, and twice as wise.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 who puts up the pretense that he never quite feels the need to be worshipped so, being as modest as possible. yet internally, it is through lotus offerings, garlands of roses and lamps and lanterns blue and white that he truly measures his importance in the eyes of the man. the easiest god to please or upset, the lothd eyed god has few vices he does not know to erase. hence is the reason he is revered by all, the kind hearted god.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 who takes great pride in the lonesome shrine dedicated to the 'god of all ancient wisdom', and enjoys flittering around in the forests and lakes that surround his shrine from all sides. quiet whispers often go ignored by him, benevolent in godhood as he already is. there's a saying—if you ever spot a purple-haired being with lotuses in his hands and gold on his neck, then be sure to quieten your steps and softly whisper his name. though he won't respond, his gaze will certainly fall upon you. while he doesn't entirely agree with this, he still arguably enjoys the attention this saying gathers him.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦— and his infatuation when his gaze lands upon you, standing amidst the maidens with gold offerings in your hand as you stared at him through plenilune eyes, your gaze holding wondrous awe. he can't speak, can't avert his gaze, nor can you and both are quite understandable in their place. after all, for a god, occasions of 'love' are few and far between, and even more so with mortals.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 who always keeps an eye on all his followers. especially, you, of plenilune gaze and ethereal essence. he loves being pampered in general, always sitting patiently whenever he enters the shrine and the maidens sit him on golden stands and bathe him in flowers.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 and the way his gaze pins upon you as you move through the forest, navigating around to reach the lake of lotuses. who knows very well that this is the first time you have left to get lotuses on your own, a cruel order of the head priestess who was upset about his disregard for the prayers of the others. and while he is willing to be more benevolent next time, he ensures to cut down excess bushes and lead you right to the lake, almost confusing as to how easy it was to reach the lake.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 who can't help but turn red yet watch helplessly as you slightly lift your waist cloth, revealing the soft skin of your waist, pulling the dagger out and walk slowly into the waters, cutting freshly bloomed lotuses from the water. but his gaze remains pinned to your form regardless, unable to watch anything or anyone except you.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 develops a tiny bias towards your prayers then on, always listening a bit keener to them. who can't help but create a situation such that all priestesses leave to attend to the royal family and their transgressions and you're left to look after the shrine. and then he comes in all graces, dressed in gold pieces and pearls white, ethereal looking when your gazes meet.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 who laughs slightly when you immediately bow and call him by all his hundred names, amused by your devotion. who desires to speak softly with you, leaving you spellbound with his quiet melody in speech. he is a bit biased you see— it's rare, after all, to see the god being vain but anything other than himself.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 and his expectation of finding you at the lake of lotuses every day, getting disappointed should you ever switch duties with anyone. he doesn't give up though. he has his ways, and you can't really escape him if he shows up at the shrine, himself after all. he just ensures to bite back the smile that forms on his features when you place the lotuses on his feet and light his sandalwood incense.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 being infatuated with your delightfully mortal charm and the fleeting sense of forbiddenness that you bring. gods and mortals do not mix well—he knows and he also knows that you know too, but it's hard for both to resist when either looks so supple and lovely.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥! 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦 and his love for you, his favourite devotee.

yandere aventurine would be very manipulative towards you. he knows his ways with words and knows how to string them together for you to do something for him. his manipulation, in his eyes, is to keep you safe and sound and to be near him. and him alone. during arguments, he would most likely manipulate the situation, gaslighting you if necessary, but he would break if he saw you crying during the dispute...then quickly apologize. your feelings matter, but what mattered most to him was having you, and you alone.

"i don't understand why you seem to be upset. you seem to be misunderstanding the situation, and you must be a bit out of it today, love. why don't you sit down for a bit? i'll grab you some food while you're at it."

yandere aventurine is very protective of you, but if anything, he's possessive. he's the wealthiest man in his own eyes, and through the realms of penacony, some are desperate for any change, especially through the dreamscape. if anyone bothered you, whether it be a man, female or whatever they wish to identify themselves, he would bribe them with wealth to get away from you...but if worst came two worst, he would kill them. how? out of sight, out of mind. and if you questioned it?

"ah, i'm not quite sure what happened. i believe they wanted to go elsewhere. worry not, my dear. let's go enjoy the scene of penacony."

yandere aventurine would stalk you. he would follow you everywhere. and you wouldn't notice. and if you were too far? well, he would just watch you through his phone, admiring you, and making sure that you are safe...and that nobody is even looking in your direction. if you suddenly got up while the both of you were slumbering in way in bed, he would stop you.

"where are you going? why? why are you leaving m- ...ah, to the restroom? alright."

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

AURORA. — Arlecchino's child has never seen the aurora in Snezhnaya before.

— trigger & content warnings. none applicable!

— pairings & notes. fluff. arlecchino & reader. reader is a member of the house of the hearth, is at least around 15 but is otherwise ambiguous in age, and is implied to be arlecchino's chosen successor. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). arlecchino is suggested to be taller than the reader by quite a bit. 0.8k words.

— author's thoughts. arlecchino my beloved RAHHH she is literally the best fatui harbinger imo. i love you arle no. 4 of the fatui harbingers 🗣🗣❗️❗️❗️ i am surprised by the lack of platonic arlecchino fics!??!?! she is literally called father guys please /lh

       "Father..."

       Shadowing under the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers during one of her trips to Snezhnaya was, no doubt, nervewracking and tiring despite them never needing to do anything other than follow her around; Arlecchino simply wouldn't allow some of her coworkers to even look in their direction, let alone try to speak to them. Some, like Tartaglia, however, were momentarily permitted to; Childe had talked their ear off while Arlecchino was occupied with the Regrator and the Rooster, though they could only wordlessly nod in response to the never-ending chatter about his siblings. 'You should come by sometime,' he had said. 'You kids from the Hearth are a good lot, and my family would be more than happy to have visitors.'

       Nevertheless, really, they hadn't done much at all... but perhaps the anxiety of dipping their toes into their Harbinger's responsibilities—the ones that they may very well inherit one day—was a valid enough reason to be so mentally tired.

       Standing close behind her, listening to her speak with her coworkers (it was quite amusing to see the glare and scowl fixed on her face when she needed to speak to the Doctor—she never looked at them or any of their siblings like that—though the sheer terror his presence induced was enough to drown that amusement out), seeing the details of her responsibilities that others could not...

       They were certain that they must've said a mere one or two words during the whole visit—a "Yes, Father" or a "No, Father," directed at none other than their Harbinger and her alone.

       Exhaustion and cold seeped into their bones, but nonetheless, they had stopped trailing after her and stared up in wonderment.

       Arlecchino stopped shortly after they did, turning back to them. "What is it?"

       Colors danced freely in the nighttime Snezhnayan sky. Despite the chill permeating their flesh (they were reminded that they probably should have dressed a bit more warmly, but they weren't familiar with the Motherland, and therefore didn't anticipate how cold the night would get), they felt no compulsion to rush.

       "Look. The aurora," they murmured, eyes wide with awe and wonder.

       The Knave's heels clicked on the tiled terrace at the front of the Winter Palace as she paced back over to them, following their gaze upwards. "Have you never seen it before?"

       "No. I... I've never been to Snezhnaya before now," they admitted, "so I have never seen the aurora. I've heard about it, but—"

       "I understand. It is more magnificent than even the most vivid descriptions."

       Suddenly, the heavy weight of the Knave's coat fell onto their shoulders. They gingerly clasped the edges, pulling it closer to their body as to fend off the biting chill in the air. Lavender and a vague twinge of smoke filled their lungs. To some, it may have been an unpleasant combination—perhaps others would find the smoke too stinging and bitter or the lavender too sickening, as some do. To them, however, it was simply... Father's scent. It was hard to dislike when the person they associated it with was so important to their life.

       It was equally hard to feel cold with her coat draped over their body.

       Father's particular scent made a comforting warmth stir in their chest—perhaps she was not really their Father, but it was times such as this that made them feel that she was—and her coat ensured that their exterior did not freeze.

       In fact, it was quite impossible to feel cold now.

       "...Let us stay for a while longer, then," she mused, one of her hands finding its place on their upper back. "The aurora is a sight to behold, and there are no urgent matters to attend to at home."

       Momentarily, their gaze broke away from the sky and shifted to the Harbinger instead. Though they did appreciate the gesture of giving them her coat... "Won't you get cold, Father?"

       Their concern was not unwarranted, but indeed unecessary.

       "Worry not," the Fourth replied smoothly, reaching over to adjust the coat somewhat; it was too big for them and threatened to slip off of their body if their already gentle hold were to loosen even slightly. Arlecchino absently mused to herself about how utterly unintimidating they were, drowning in the fluff of her coat and head just barely able to peek out from the top. It was cute, though she dared not say admit such a thing out loud. "I have long since grown used to this weather. You have not."

       'You need that coat far more than I do.'

       That was what she wanted to say, or rather what she was implying; she would speak her mind if she so truly desired to or felt the need to. They'd grown quite used to her enigmatic nature and quite skilled in reading between the lines, picking apart her words at the seams to uncover what she truly meant to say.

       Suddenly, under the flickering purples, greens, and blues of the night sky, it was no longer cold.

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Charisma Etched on Strings

You despised being near Scaramouche. It was a danger to your well-being.

Because all you can feel is the warmth of his body traveling to yours, enclosing around you and morphing into the oxygen that you so desperately need to survive.

Gn! reader x Electric guitarist!Scaramouche

Notes: I swear this one has no set pov. It switches between Scara and the reader so I apologize for that. Also, I'm not that good at wiriting x readers *insert crying emoji*

Warning: Slight cursing

It was supposed to be a harmless guitar lesson.

So how the fuck did you end up sitting on this shithead’s lap?

“Easy sweetheart. Stop squirming," Scaramouche’s grating voice reverberated throughout the otherwise empty room. The words he spouts are pestiferous, enough to ensure a fist will land on his face if he doesn’t shut up soon. You merely asked him for a guitar lesson, not to be manhandled and subjectively humiliated by this sick bastard of a friend. “Get me off your lap!" you protest, writhing against his arms. 

You want nothing to do with this. 

Yet he cages you with that god-forbidden instrument of his, propping the black, electric guitar in front of you. You were effectively sandwiched between that handsome son of a bitch and his prized musical instrument. “You said you wanted to learn right?" he mused, his calloused hand cascading down your wrist to seize it securely, "This is the fastest way." 

Lies. 

You scoff at his pathetic excuse to justify himself. He’s just so full of bull. You know he was amused at your predicament, your thrashing and twisting igniting a twinge of sadistic pleasure within him. Scara shifts slightly, a lock of your hair twirled around his index finger, “Now stop moving so we can start our lesson.”

Without much of a choice, you reluctantly compelled to his demands. Your tantrums ceased, much to Scara's entertainment. He knows how much you detest your current dilemma and he couldn't help but take advantage of it. He wants to mess with you. To increasingly rile you up every passing second. He presses his chest completely against your back, wanting to see those cute little veins of yours pop out. His lips twitched upwards as he made sure there wouldn't be any space left between you two. He could hear your pretty lips part and verbalize a gasp. 

A sweet, sweet treat for his ears. 

He couldn't be bothered to give you a chance to retaliate. It was way more fun toying with you when he rendered you helpless. Leaning closer and letting his breath fan against the tip of your ears, his fruity voice resounds through your brain and into your spine in the form of shivers. "Let's learn some basic chords first," he murmurs as he slinks his fingers towards yours, hovering over them. Scara felt the smirk on his face expand, you sure do have a warm set of hands. He surely wouldn't mind if it was pressed with his all the time. Stuck in his wishful thinking, he absentmindedly squeezed your thumb lightly. He blinks. Ah, he was getting distracted. He clears his throat and he proceeds, "Just like in every lesson, we start with C". 

He adjusts your index finger to pin the second string on the first fret. He does the same with your middle and ring finger, stationing them on the second fret of the fourth string and the third fret of the fifth string respectively. His loitering fingers aid in pushing down the strings as he's aware that you're probably not pressing down hard enough. It also helped restrain any movements that may disrupt the sound when plucked. You, on the other hand, verbalized a protest. 

“Hey, that hurts," you hissed as you tried to lift your finger off. Even just slightly. But Scara wouldn't let you. He remains unfazed, unbothered by the fact that your fingers are possibly bruising underneath his. “It’s supposed to idiot, it's your first time,” Scara rolls his eyes and his resolve to keep your finger position doesn't falter. 

You'll definitely punch him after this. 

“Now strum,” he instructs and you've got half the mind to not follow through. Curse your curiosity though, washing away each and every one of your senses, dulling them and allowing it to control your other hand to strum the strings. It made a tune, not akin to those voice cracks of teenagers going through puberty or screeching bats when viciously searching for their next meal. It was a pleasant melody, a fine sound that signifies a correct mark. Scara smiles, watching in delight how taken aback you looked. "Good. Next chord," he was ready to shift the position of your fingers once more. Your fingers wouldn't budge though. You've reached your limit.

You've certainly had enough. 

Your heart's been racing since the beginning and you were sure you won't be able to take it anymore. Not with him being this close. You catch a whiff of his perfume, a woody fragrance with a base of leather that never fails to drive you insane. You want to smash your head against the wall so badly.

You despised being near him. It was a danger to your well-being.

Because all you can feel is the warmth of his body traveling to yours, enclosing around you and morphing into the oxygen that you so desperately need to survive.

"This is stupid", you scoffed before he could move your fingers. Scara tilts his head in your direction. Oh? Were you going to object to him again? How cute. He chuckles and raises his brow, “What is?” 

“Your way of teaching.” With a groan, you go back to your squirming strategy to try and break loose from his predatorial hold, “Can't we do this without being an inch away from each other?” 

Scara merely laughs at you. ‘Why? Does the closeness bother you?" he teases. He would get closer to you if he could, but there's literally no more space left between you and him. So he opts to angle his lips adjacent to your neck and let out a drag of air. His breath brushes against your skin, parallel to a gentle caress from a lover. He was so sure he just heard your breathing hitch. Adorable.

“Is this better?” he smirks, heaving a drawn-out breath once more. You shake your head and writhe, flailing your arms wildly in a fit of fulmination. Scara can't help but grin at your antics. He doesn't back down, reinforcing his hold over you. He won’t let go. I mean, why would he? When you fit perfectly in his arms?  

Your scuffle abated for a second and he caught the way your face turned into a stunning shade of red. “Aw, you're even blushing for me," he remarks, prompting you to resume your thrashing.

“Of course not! Why would I be!?” 

Scara chuckles, his gaze never leaving you. "Why the denial? Anyone with eyes can see how red you've gotten because of me."

You wanted to wipe that smug expression plastered on his face. He knows that. He's just reveling in the fact that you couldn't. 

He elevated his head to meet your twitching ears, ready to grace them with an assortment of breathy words bound to hit that sore spot in your heart. "There's nothing to deny you know? Not when I'm right here. Mindful and observant of how you feel towards me."

His fingers dragged from your jaw to your cheek, leaving a touch so sensual it's flabbergasting at most. He rested his hands along your cheek as he spoke with an allure that was sure to keep you on the edge, subconsciously thirsting for more. "I know you like me. You like it when we're this close," he continues, cocking your head up and exposing more of that tempting throat of yours. Not that he can see it from his point of view, but from the front? It would certainly be a sensual sight that would drive every inch of his self-control onto the edge of a cliff. 

"I don't mind it though. I don't mind watching your pathetic descent into the abyss of my heart," he chuckles, hands falling towards your lips. It was quite the contrast, his rough fingers kneading against your soft and plump lips. 

"So just fall for me, yeah?" his thumb rubs your upper lip in a circular motion. Honestly, he's tempted to shove his finger in your mouth. He wants to hear your feeble whines as he occasionally toys with your tongue, your erotic whimpers that deluges his entire sensibility. But he doesn't. At least not now.

"I'll be sure to catch you"

for scara "am i bothering you, my lord? i just felt really lonely..." 🙏

notes: yandere, afab reader, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome

There’s a hand on your head before you know it. A firm presence that strokes, calming and possessive. You don’t have to look up from your position on the floor, carefully kneeling on a cushion next to his seat, to know what expression is is on his face. Possessive and pleased. A smile, though not exactly a nice one, even on his better days. 

You lean into his touch and shift on the cushion, hoping to get more comfortable. If he hasn’t kicked you out already, it means he’s in a good enough mood. You might be able to coax him into a walk in the gardens later, if you play your cards right. 

And you do so want to play your cards right with your husband. 

You don’t know when exactly everything began to shift. When you stopped feeling like your stomach was constantly empty, being twisted and pulled in every direction. When your everyday activities morphed from anxiety-inducing expectations into simple habits. 

When you stopped feeling like a captive and started feeling like a wife. 

Was it when you felt ill, and he deigned to stay by you through the worst of it? Spooning broth into your mouth and wiping your face with cool, damp rags? A soft, affectionate move that had caught you by surprise. The gestures had seemed foreign on his face, and you wondered for ages whether or not one of your ladies or perhaps a servant had suggested it to him.

Was it when he offhandedly confessed that the thought of entertaining a particular traveling noble made him want to electrify his own eyes out, and the pair of you conspired to get the man drunk--and thus, off to bed and out of his hair--as quickly as possible? It was childish, silly even. You poured cup after cup and Scaramouche said nothing as his guest became absolutely sloshed. That night you even laughed about it together, snickering, warm under the covers of your shared bed.

Little moments, bit by bit, that paved over the reality of your situation and gave it something more palatable in your mind. Something you could work with and live with, possibly even enjoy. 

And if you no longer shy away from his hands, if you call him husband without a bitter taste on your lips, if you do your best to keep him pleased and reap the results... can you be blamed? 

You know it’s wrong. Deep down. You’re not stupid. 

If you think about your situation for too long, you know what you’ll find. Underneath the layers of crafted moments, the shiny veneer that you’ve painted onto your heart. 

You’ll find a different you that wants to positively scream and fight at every turn. A different you that wants to throw up at the thought of being around Scaramouche willingly, one that would never initiate affection... much less crave it from his hands. A different you that bore his punishments, his stings and shocks, grinding your teeth to avoid giving him the satisfaction of audible pain. 

But you can’t live like that forever. You tried. You tried for as long as you could, rebelling against him, rebelling against the life he’d forced you into. You were tired of being pushed down, mentally and physically. Tired of being sad. Tired of feeling like you’d never escape.

So now? You don’t want to escape. 

Now you want him to touch you, to praise you. To shower you with gifts, though he still holds them over your head if he finds you’re being too needy. What do you need to see your family for, when he’s just gifted you an expansion to the gardens or a much-coveted visit to a local festival? 

Now you want to peel back the layers of Scaramouche, taking them off like marital robes, until you reach the Kunikuzushi underneath. Imperfect and clay-like. Unfinished. You want to see what makes him work and makes him stall and fill the gaps in him with something of yourself.

“My wife is lonely,” he murmurs, and his fingers still in your hair. “I’ll have to rectify that, won’t I?” 

You look up, finally, and your stomach doesn’t twist at the sight of his lidded eyes gazing down at you. Instead, your heart feels lighter and you reach up with your own fingers to intertwine them in his.

“But you already have.” 

WHAT A PAIN ...

Scaramouche x child!gn!reader

This is strictly platonic !

TW: mention of human experiment, abuse, occ scara

You were one of dottore's experiments.

It isn't really as fun as he promised. Not to mention you were one of his best ones considering you survived most of his tests from ever since you were 6. You tried to run away before but of course he managed to catch you.

But that doesn't mean you wouldn't do it again.

here you are, running non-stop. Trying your best to not to be seen by any one, but your luck isn't really heavenly..

You ended up bumping into the balladeer, what a good day. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in dottore's lap?" He questioned. He actually tried not to scare you but his wish wasn't granted seeing that you tried to scoot away from him. "Uhm...I.." you couldn't form a word by the way he was glaring down at you. "P-PLEASE, DON'T BRING ME BACK THERE, I...I DON'T WANNA!" You didn't have a choice. All you could do is beg and whine for him not to take you back. And that caught him off guard, but again, this is dottore were talking about here, who wouldn't? Back to you, Scaramouche didn't actually know what to do. He may seem like a cruel person but he's been in your place before.. "Sigh, come here" huh..? He wasn't going to send you back? You were certainly confused but anything is better than that cruel place. He managed to sneak you in his office. And now you find yourself sitting by his side while he does paperwork, it is boring just to sit there and see him do work, but you'd rather do that then be used as an experiment again. So you just sat there obediently waiting for him to finish. Scaramouche knew that he had to give you back since dottore held more authority over him, but the way you seemed so scared back there just made him do this without thinking and he didn't seem to mind your company that much, oh how he wanted to take you from him. He'll have to try and ask to tsaritsa later... Wait- why is he thinking like that!? You're just a child who ended up in the fatui's grasp, and he just met you! You're really something, maybe it's something you did to him that made him even take you to his office? Like brainwashing? I mean you are one of dottore's "special" experiments, or- "m-mister? Are you alright?.." a quite voice suddenly took him away from his thoughts "hm? What do you mean?" "Well you s-suddenly starting staring at me, so I thought..uhm.." oh, he was too deep in his thoughts to notice he was staring- well glaring at you. "No, it's nothing. I just spaced out, that's all" now you were scared. Was he thinking about making you his experiment? Or maybe you did something wrong? Negative thoughts filled your head that you started shaking more. Scaramouche noticed that something was wrong. "What's with you? Why are.. crying" you didn't even notice that you were infact crying. The harbinger now thinks HE did something wrong. Maybe, he scared you too much? Archons, he can't believe his doing this.. "t-there, there.." he was petting your hair, trying his best to calm you down. If you told someone that the balladeer, the 6th harbinger would be nervous because of a child, they'll be laughing at your face, but here he is. He himself couldn't believe it, him? Nervous? What a joke. It's not really funny now.. You didn't know if it was right to do this but you were too sad to think about your actions. You jumped on his lap and starting cuddling him... You were showing little to no respect to him right now, but he didn't push you away. He continued petting your head for a while until he realized you were asleep. Archons, now he either have to pick you up or wait for you to wake up. He ended up picking you up to the couch in his office for you to sleep more comfortably, but you didn't want to let him go, you were clinging to him like a koala. So, he didn't have a choice but to cuddle you in the couch. What a pain ...

Hello! I hope this was good (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠) !! Hope you have a good day <33

little gnosis ‣ scaramouche x child!reader.

— ☆ Synopsis: It all happened so fast; a blinding purple light from your chest, several perplexed gasps, and then suddenly you were the vessel of the electro archon's gnosis. Now a young man who calls himself "The Balladeer" is forcing you to travel with him.

— ☆ CW: slightly ooc scaramouche.

If there was one thing that you examined from Kunikuzushi when you first met him after the event which shaped your fate, it was an overflowing hatred directed toward you. A hatred that you couldn't fully understand.

It was a hatred conveyed through mean side glances as you ran to catch up with his fast pace, with eyes narrowed and malice swirling through indigo like a violent storm. A hatred conveyed through a harsh grip on your wrist when you weren't fast enough, individual fingers digging into your skin so hard that it hurt, paired with a strident comment for you to hurry up. You didn't know what in Teyvat a "gnosis" was, nor did you know why you were now its vessel and what it means for you, but it appeared to be something that greatly peeved him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Scaramouche," You suddenly spoke one evening as the two of you were traversing Inazuma, voice sincerely apologetic as your eyes solemnly trailed down to the floor below. As usual, you were slightly trailing behind him, the back of his feet as he continued walking were visible in the corner of your sights. "For messing everything up."

What had you done? Absolutely nothing. A lone child in the wrong place at the wrong time, having the pinnacle of a god's power sealed inside them by mistake due to a strange reaction with the gnosis, and now being dragged around by a man who appears to be mad about it.

There was no indication that he even listened to the apology, not a turn of the head or a hum. The Balladeer was completely silent, eyes remaining trained forwards. You hadn't expected him to accept it or anything, you just wanted him to know that you were sorry.

You knew he did hear it, though. Whether a scream for help, a pathetic attempt to start a conversation or a muttered comment, he always heard what you said. A response from him was rare... well, a response that wasn't some sort of insult, that is.

The familiar sound which pulled you from the blackened tank of your thoughts wasn't the sound of his voice, as much as you would have liked it to be. But a loud bang that almost felt to shake the surrounding environment, and cast a bright light above you which made your shadow visible below. That noise was quickly followed by another, quieter bang which emitted a dimmer light from above you. Which was followed by another, and then another.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze from the floor, looking upwards to find the beginnings of a glamorous fireworks display unfolding above you. Red, purple, green, orange flowers of lights blooming before your very eyes, decorating the gradient blue of the sky in a way which was absolutely beautiful.

Yoimiya's fireworks, you thought. Word in Hanamizaka is that summer isn't complete without seeing one of her glamorous displays. It truly is the experience of Inazuma.

Eyes trained upwards, you hadn't noticed the man you were trailing slowly halt to a stop to peer up at the display, and continued walking. After a minute of looking to the fireworks, his gaze turned to you.

You looked completely mesmerized, mouth open as you gawked at the stunning sight. Lights reflected in your eyes, which held a soft fondness as if the sight was reminding you of an old friend. Yet they also held a childish wonder, as if it were your first time seeing such a sight. He almost, almost found it cute.

Until your foot caught an elevation in the ground, causing you to trip forwards. Unbeknownst to you, beside you, the harbinger's eyes widened in sheer panic. As he watched your smaller form fall towards the floor, he quickly lunged in your direction without thought, hand reaching out to catch you in any way possible. Lucky enough to grasp your arm just in time.

"Look where you're going, idiot."

It took a few short moments for your racing heart to calm, comprehending that you had been saved from your fall. When you eventually looked up, Scaramouche was standing tall as usual. Both feet planted firmly on the floor and stood normally, with the exception of how he was holding your arm to prevent you from faceplanting the floor below. There was no hint of urgency there anymore, a stoic and slightly peeved, fitting of his tone of voice, expression there instead as he stared down at you.

He let go of your arm when you corrected your form, standing on your own again. There were no other words spoken as he simply turned around, continuing the walk that you two were having, leaving you standing there. Clearly expecting you to follow him again.

You remained there for a few seconds, watching him walk. Every time a firework exploded, the light would flood around him, before diminishing and being rebirthed in a different color. When you realized what he just did for you, your eyes pinged wide and you pushed yourself forwards quickly after him.

"Um-- Thank you! ...For saving me!"

There was no response as you ran to catch up with him, not that you expected one.

YES I LOVE THIS (≧▽≦)

Ahem hi( ꈍᴗꈍ) since requests are open:

What would happen if rsa saved reader from- honestly I don't know but let's put the logic aside for a bit ( this takes place based on the assumption rsa are vampires and are not on the best terms with nrc ) and turned them into a vampire?

now reader owns them like how nrc are loyal to Lilia for saving them or helping them accomplish things they wanted by turning them.

So with your amazing writing skills how would Lilia, the tweels, and vil react to this predicament?

Thank you and have a great week (つ≧▽≦)つ

Ok but this concept is actually so good!! Sorry this took so long! Hope you like it :)

RSA turning MC into a Vampire - Lilia, Jade & Floyd, Vil

Lilia:

I think it would truly catch Lilia off-guard, leaving him surprised for the first time in what feels like forever.

He isn’t used to being so out of control of a situation, and he knows very well how serious and permanent your situation is.

Lilia is very thankful you were saved, anything is better than your death to him, even if it’s because of RSA.

Ultimately, he’s pretty powerless to do anything about it. Against humans, Lilia has the upper hand, but he’s not as confident against other vampires. He doesn’t want to risk too much conflict with them, not wanting RSA to go after anyone else at the mansion.

It’s pretty depressing for him, to see you act so close and loyal to them. He almost feels betrayed, although he knows it’s not your fault. The feelings aren’t controllable and he truly understands that.

It does hurt him when you seem almost happy with RSA. You’d never really wanted to stay at the mansion, always seeking your freedom, and now you’re happy as ever to stay contained with RSA. He knows they treat you well, but he believed his residents did as well.

Lilia will try not to lose hope, continuing to research ways to break the sire bond, but considering he hasn’t encountered such a thing in his life already, he knows it may be some time before he can bring you home.

Jade & Floyd:

At first, Floyd gets a bit excited to hear that you’re a vampire now. After all, there’s so many more ways to play with you now that you’re much less fragile.

He quickly gets annoyed when he sees your intense devotion to RSA. Why are you paying attention to them, when he’s right here?

Jade is very interested in the ‘new’ you as well, although he’s less vocal about it than Floyd.

He’d be curtious to RSA, thanking them politely for saving you, despite the tension in the air.

Jade would be careful to observe your interactions with them, trying to figure out just how deep the bond is.

The tweels may want you back at the mansion, but they won’t be very straightforward about it.

Floyd will propose ominous ideas for your time together, in which you’re not sure you’ll get out of unscathed.

Jade will say how he misses you dearly, but in his typical disingenuous way that makes you worry about what he’s planning.

They’re two of the most likely to try and force you to come back, as they’re not afraid to use the force you know they’re very capable of exerting. Even if you’re unhappy there, even if you want to get back to your sires, it really doesn’t matter to them.

You lived it okay here before, you’ll learn to love the mansion again. Even if it means they have to punish you when you try to leave.

Vil:

Vil is angry, mostly because he knows Neige had any part in saving you, when he knows it should’ve been himself.

Even more than that, you now feel like you owe Neige RSA anything, let alone undying loyalty?

He refuses to accept it as reality, whilst also knowing all too well that it’s the truth considering his own loyalty to Lilia, no matter how much he wishes he could deny it.

If he’s ever forced to see you in the company of Neige, he’ll be pushed over the edge of anger seeing the two of you get along so well, with your overeagerness to please him.

Where is your disobedience when it came to interacting with him? Now for Neige, you’re sweet as can be?

Vil hates the entire thing with a passion. Even when you’re not with Neige, but with Chenya, it drives him crazy to see you try and protect and help him.

He’s too prideful to ever tell you that he misses you in the rare times he’s in your company, but you understand what he means with his snarky remarks.

He’s pleased at your guilt for leaving them behind, even knowing you really have no choice.

(yandere! ex x gn! reader) (thought of this in the shower and thought it would be funny)

it had been five long dreadful days since you last talked to him.

five.

full.

days.

your ex boyfriend thought that it was finally time to break the silence and embrace your presence again. unfortunately, you had blocked him on all platforms and even got a restraining order on him. like, you've blocked him before but not a restraining order!

you even got all dramatic and said you wanted to break up!

...again.

he honestly thought it was a little cute. like aw... you wanted a break again! okay, because he loves you so much he'll give you another one! like you obviously meant break up as in separate for a bit then go back! like as always!

so... why haven't you contacted him at all?

he's itching and clawing at his walls just waiting for you to text him. but no, nothing. zero. absolute silence.

all the blocking and restraining orders weren't just to get his attention?

...

but he doesn't care haha! why should he care? you're just being a little dramatic again. this is how it's always been. he knows you just feel neglected, so of course you're just doing this for attention!

oh! he knows what to do!

that's right! he should show up with gifts and coddle you in kisses! like always!

that's why, he's patiently waiting for you to return back home... with tons of jewellery and cash laid on the ground. how did he get in, you ask? well obviously he has a spare key to your home! yeah yeah, he knows you haven't actually given him a new key and that you changed your lock two days ago but it was so painfully easy to just copy your key!

he couldn't just not make a copy, could he? you know he has to have access to you at all times! he gets antsy when he doesn't!

ah, your door is opening!

he grins happily, giggling excitedly as he sits by your couch, looking at the door in excitement.

"darling! i missed you!"

he moans, cheeks flushed as he stares at your stunned figure. however, his happiness gets replaced by worry as you slip on the money he laid down your hallway. oops... maybe he shouldn't have flooded your house in cash?

"darling! oh no... sre you alright?"

he pouts, immediately rushing to your side as he brushes the money away from your body. ah look at you! your face is all terrified... you must've been so so scared without him, weren't you?

"i promise I won't leave you again... just look at you!"

he mumbles, shaking his head disapprovingly as he picks you up and expertly maneuvers his way through your cash flooded apartment.

"what would you do without me?"

he sighs, cradling you to his chest as he sits on your couch and begins wiping away his faux tears with a wad of cash. that's right! what would you do without him? you were just so fragile and helpless! you'd suffer without his protection! he swears never to leave you alone again!

meanwhile, you were just silently smashing your head against the wall. god, your escape attempt failed again! maybe you should just escape to a foreign country next time. hm, maybe you should change your name to josh and alter your appearance too.