Scaramouche + "won't You Kiss Me Already? Please, My Lord?"

“Kuni, let me sleep in for just a bit longer. Let me be lazy, just for today?” for Scaramouche?

"Hah, are you trying to shamelessly schmooze up to me? Well, it won't work this time— hey!"

With a not-so-gentle tug, you successfully pull him down into the bed with you. At first, it’s an awkward tumble of limbs trying to regain purchase, but eventually, the struggle ceases. He could very easily pry you from his person and hurl you elsewhere, which is why his reliance on halfhearted complaints instead doesn’t deter you. 

Scaramouche lets out an unnecessarily loud sigh. “Whatever, have it your way. You humans are so needy. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, otherwise, I wouldn’t entertain your antics.” 

He says that as if he isn’t settling his hands on your waist and getting you into a position he likes. You force yourself to endure it, the unnatural coldness of his touch, the claustrophobic sensation that arises whenever he’s close. You’re brought all the more closer when he presses the side of your face against his chest. 

“Wouldn’t you say this is a display of neediness?” 

Further solidifying your point is how he starts running his hands up and down your back while the question is posed. He pauses his ministrations once the words leave your mouth, and although you can’t see his face from this position, you can clearly imagine his frown. 

“Impudence sure is your forte. You said you wanted to sleep, or is your memory that terrible? I’m simply lending my assistance. You’d be extra annoying to deal with if you’re sleep deprived,” he gives a sardonic chuckle that nobody asked for. Is he capable of non-derisive laughter? 

“I learned from the best,” is all you care to mumble, his presence sapping your energy more than any sleepless night could. “Be a good pillow for me. I’ll let you hold me more often if you are.” 

“... Whatever.” 

It’s difficult to take his supposed disinterest seriously when he accompanies it by resting his chin atop your head. 

Playing Favorites. Yan Scaramouche x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, major power imbalances, having to deal with Scaramouche because that honestly entitles you to financial compensation.  Word count: 1.5k. 

(Thank you to @bye-bye-sunbird​ for making the beautiful header <333)

This is a part of the AU where the Reader/Darling is shared by all of the Harbingers. 

“I’ve been practicing my calligraphy lately.”

“Mhm.”

“You make it look so easy… I can’t say I’ve made a lot of progress, but I’d like to show you my work when you get the chance. I have some drying now, actually.”

“Ah.”

“The characters for your name have been especially tricky. I can do the part that looks like a square, it’s just filling in the rest of it where I tend to mess up. You know, smudging the lines on accident and all that. I still manage to get ink on my clothes even if I roll up my sleeves… aha… how does that happen, I wonder?”  

“Mm.”

This is nothing short of drawn-out torture.

Keep reading

Kiss me now...

(Wanderer x reader)

[@arisewanekosuki I immediately thought of you in the middle of writing this...sorry if the meow is being a tiny bit aggressive wkwkwk... |ω･)ﾉ]

~

"Kiss me now or say goodbye to oxygen", is what had first left his mouth when you see Wanderer approaching. His brows furrowed so much, scowl so deep, and irritation and annoyance just oozing from his being. If you're honest, he literally looks like he's about to murder someone.

"Bad day?", you had asked out of concern, genuinely so. You don't really like seeing him this angry, and from past experiences you know it's best to help calm him down first. Yet before you could pull him to the side to sit, or offer him a comforting hug, it seems your words only further irritated him.

"I warned you", was all you heard before he had grabbed you by your clothes, smashing his lips against yours in a needy, desperate kiss. There was no hesitation in pushing his tongue inside your mouth, sliding against your own and swirling and taking your breath away. His other hand quickly latching onto the back of your neck to keep you there locked in against his lips. His other arm already making its way around your waist to pull you impossibly close to his body.

You could feel the tension on his shoulders slowly loosening, his brows less furrowed the longer he locked lips with you. But he was far from relaxed and far from being done with you. You were glad that you could help in some way and would honestly let him do as he pleased. But the lack of air in your lungs prevented that, the light frantic taps on his chest and gentle pushing you give him begged for just a little breath before you become lightheaded.

With an annoyed groan he gave you your short breath, reluctantly pulling away from your lips but once you took that one inhale he was immediately on you again, stealing that breath right back. He repeated the process a few times just barely letting you breathe. Until you had to put your hands over his mouth and push him away lightly to gulp in your needed oxygen. He literally almost bit you for that.

"You made your choice, so stick with it", he huffed, pushing against you again with your wrists pulled away in his grasp.

"W-Wait...hah...don't you-"

"I'll tell you about it later, now shut up and kiss me while I'm still being nice"

Technically, he was right. He IS being nice right now. He could easily overpower you and take what he wanted. Yet he hadn't fail to be gentle with you from the start.

"Okay okay... Let's at least sit down? A-And give me more time to breathe this time!"

"Tch"

The quartet

Platonic!Arlecchino x Traveller!Reader x Platonic!Lyney, Lynette, Freminet

When Arlecchino left the office, she was greeted by almost absolute silence, only the snoring and quiet snuffling of tired children interrupted her. To be honest, the harbinger liked this sight, since most of the children did not plan to fall asleep after lunch and from this they lay not only in unnatural poses, but also in the most unexpected places.

Foltz, for example, was lying in the dining room with his face buried in the table. Even the older children couldn't resist going to bed in the afternoon. So, her gaze slipped to your quartet lying by the fireplace. With a quick glance, it was difficult to understand where whose legs and arms were, so her eyes stopped a little longer, although she knows perfectly well that an excessively long look can disturb the light sleep of some children.

You lies in the middle, a Freminet lies neatly on the right, he slightly nuzzled your shoulder, while holding his faithful friend Per. Lynette lies a little apart on the left, her tail gently wrapped around your leg, when she herself almost does not touch you. And to top it all off, Lyney... It was as if he wanted to hug everyone at once. He was sleeping in the tiny space between you and Lynette, one of his hands reaching straight for Freminet through your face, the other holding Lynette's hand.

Exhaling softly, Arlecchino goes to the fireplace and calmly extinguishes it. Her gaze goes back to your pile. She notices how you open your sleepy eyes and squint at her for a couple of seconds, after which you turn over on your other side, throwing your leg over the Freminet.

What a tangible difference there is between your first day at the House of the Hearth and this one. In the first days, you were especially careful with her and the other children, but now you have become much more trusting. And trust is an important and indispensable component of any family.

However, she should definitely return to her duties as soon as possible, and not linger here idly. However one from your pile noticed her.

"Father?..."

"I'm going out on business, Lyney. There are no missions for your quartet today. However, it would be nice if you could improve the calligraphy of Y/n, because the last report was given to me was hard to understand."

"Yes, Father."

Lyney answered sleepily, looking at Arlecchino leaving. When the door quietly closed, Lynette's voice was heard.

"Did Father just call us a quartet again?"

Hi! I absolutely love your platonic harbingers posts and was wondering if i could request yandere platonic harbingers with a very shy/quiet reader?

Yes ofc!! If you want anything more detailed, feel free to request for specific harbingers!!

Pierro thinks it is a good thing overall. If you were bold and outgoing then you’d be much more likely to want to be out and about where him or the others can’t constantly supervise you. Yes, having you willingly shy away from strangers makes his job much easier

Capitano is very overprotective. He has a sort of sixth sense as to when you’re feeling overwhelmed or someone is making you feel uncomfortable. People don’t normally have the luxury of being able to approach you or even be able to be around you at all, but they’re definitely not going to be getting any closer with Capitano lurking behind you

Columbina finds it ever so adorable!! She’s always looking for new ways to get cute little reactions out of you, whether it be sneaking up for a surprise hug or dedicating songs to you! Only she’s allowed to tease you about it though, anyone else that tries is bound to end up regretting it

Arlecchino let’s you rely on her. She knows from looking after the many children in her orphanage that enabling your behaviour will only make it worse, but she can’t help herself but to let you whisper to her what you want and speak for you. She can’t help but enable those behaviours that will lead you to becoming dependant on her

Dottore thinks you’re ever so fun to rile up. Finding out what things bother you and to what degree is quite a fun experiment for him. Of course, he’ll never take it too far… but coming to help you juuust before it’s too late always gets the best reactions from you and gives him an excuse to be as harsh as he wants to the ‘danger’

Signora wants to help you become more confident. She knows your worth, and she wants you to know it as well so she sometimes comes off a bit harsh with her words to you. But just know that it all comes from a genuine place in an effort to help you be the best you, and her words don’t hold the same biting chill as they do when speaking to those who even dare to look your way

Pantalone loves spoiling you constantly. The way you’re too modest to want to accept the gifts but also not assertive enough to reject them makes for a very interesting reaction. He can practically see the gears turning in your head, but is always very pleased when you accept it each time. Just be sure he’s the only one who’s gifts you take so earnestly

Sandrone wants to add you to her collection. She has a variety of puppets, big and small, tough and timid; but you’re so unique and well… you. She just has to have you. You’re so docile and sweet and follow along with her every command already, now she just needs to find a way to keep you by her side

Tartaglia’s older brother instincts constantly kick in around you. He just wants to spoil you and coddle you and make sure no harm can befall you. He’s ever so gentle with you, making sure never to displace a hair on your head, but anyone who even thinks about inconveniencing you will get some extra brutal treatment

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.

but what if its the other way around and we're the one's carressing scaras hair 😩

maybe in the shared bed, running fingerd through his hair and pressing a soft kiss to his head because you think he's asleep

i know i would develop mad stockholm for yandere scaramouche

I think deep down he would love it because he craves your affection. But he wouldn't admit it. And the idea that (he assumes) you think that he needs or craves this sort of touch is infuriating. He'd probably feign sleep for a bit, then suddenly grap your wrist and snap out: do you think he's some kind of weak child who needs your kisses? Mind your place. In fact, he might just tie your hands to the bed post at night to teach you a lesson.

But y'know, for now. Don't stop.

On the flip side, if you weren't openly affectionate and he knew the thought of being so made you squirm, he'd probably force you to do little things like this just to see your reaction.

Yandere! Noble! Scaramouche x GN! Reader (Arranged Marriage)

A/N: hey look first post!!!! this blog is basically just a place to dump my thoughts on yanderes and situations w them// if you’re not comfortable w that, please leave!!! this is not the place for you

GN reader but!!! the word “bride” is used once so do w that what you will .

remember, this is a mature blog !!! don’t like don’t read!!!!!!!!

warning(s): male! yandere, toxic relationships, slightly narcissistic yandere, verbal abuse, child neglect, arranged marriage, toxic behavior, bad parenting skills, loneliness, obsession, yandere scaramouche, scaramouche is his own warningetc. etc.

Synopsis: there’s this specific scenario ive been thinking of lately : an enemies to lovers, but with a yandere that is particularly bitter and hasn’t really experienced an unconditional love before but then his initial hatred of you turns into an obsession. I thought scara was perfect for it :)

—————————

neither of you had wanted to get married; you, the child of the last bloodline of a falling noble family, and scaramouche, heir to one of the wealthiest and most prestigious names in the empire, would have never been pushed to marry under normal circumstances. it could only be assumed that fate had revealed its hand and placed its destiny upon you.

you had never even met the young man that society had branded as ruthlessly curt with a lash-like tongue. you had never expected to, considering how far apart you were, in different circles and in different worlds

he was the duchess’ nephew and only heir, and was untouchable in both stature and power. in contrast, your family name was declining rapidly. you knew why your mother and father had accepted the marriage proposal the day it came, and you knew why they decide not to tell you until the letter in reply had already been sent. you had no say in the matter

how you parents arranged a marriage between the two of you? well, you could certainly guess; noble ladies gossiped and gasped about the young man who was rich with a handsome face, but with an incredibly arrogant personality and a razor tongue that both reflected his wit and endless scorn. you thought that the rumors must have been over exaggerated, as they always were, but for the duchess to have to reach out to your family to find a spouse for her son? had all the other contestants being rejected, and now they were picking through the scraps that were left? or perhaps, had they rejected him?

now, you weren’t so sure

even then, some part of you had never thought they would agree to something like this; they had concluded that this was what was best for you, had even told you that you will live a much happier life if you were in a household that wasn’t always on the edge of crumbling and giving way to time; you could see that they did have the best of intentions. and still, you felt betrayed

unbeknownst to you, at the time, your fiancé had felt the same way toward his mother; the expression of his feelings on the matter, however, included a lot more yelling and rage in his questions as to why he was being dragged into this. he was used to being disappointed, but being so blatantly used?

unfortunately, scaramouche’s defiance was only met with a cold silence and a blank stare, and after he had vehemently denied to go along with the marriage, his mother had only said that nothing could be done. he had no choice in the matter.

and the gentle glint in her eyes, that had still remained their after all these years, that stayed as she firmly reprimanded him, only served to make him more furious.

and so, his resentment for you, the other victim in this situation, came naturally.

when he met you for the first time, his regularly crass and sarcastic attitude only got worse. you could see the embarrassment dawn on both your parents’ and his mother’s faces, cringing every time his voice got a little too loud or when he said something particularly blunt. he made snide comments on your upbringing, your title, even your clothing wasn’t spared the ruthless bite of his words. between his curt and cold attitude and your futile attempts at making conversation, you two didn’t exactly hit it off when you first met

and then, when you finally got sick of it and told him what exactly you thought of his words and his money and where he could shove them, his resentment turned into something much more personal: spite.

he reasoned that he had every right to hate you. to be overly rude and childish whenever you so much as got the idea to be five feet near him. he never asked for the marriage. he doesn’t care about how much it would benefit the two of you, and he’s long past trying to finally please his mother into loving him, so why should he have to act like the perfect husband for someone who is below him?

your parents seemed to love you plenty though. if their guilty eyes and shifty glances were anything to go by. even if they were shamelessly grabbing at the wealth and prestige of another family, he could tell that this marriage was meant for you and your future. even if you didn’t want it. even if you seemed to dread it. every time they brought you over for a scheduled date in the lonely garden at the back of the duchess’s estate, there seemed to be a subtle pain in their eyes.

perhaps, a paternal regret at having to make their child miserable so that they could eventually have the things they weren’t able to give them.

…well, it gave him more reason to torment you.

————————

there seemed to be no way out of the awkward meetings. your parents were hell bent on having scaramouche as your husband, and his mother was just as determined. so, when you did have to suffer through seeing each other, you kept trading thinly veiled insults, practically sulking every time you heard the others name, and bickering with the each other at every opportunity. it became a familiar routine for the two of you, to not get along and verbalize your frustrations through jabs and taunts

strangely enough, scaramouche grew fond of the bickering. you were practically the only person who would speak to him so casually. with so little respect and without fear of him blowing up. he thought it was refreshing. no one hardly ever talked to him anymore, and even a child that had everything and more could not curb his own loneliness by himself…he would never tell you that, though.

he thought that at least it was entertaining to tease you. actually, if you weren’t so annoying, he might have actually gone as far to say it’s pleasant having you in his company. It certainly beats the large, lonely house he had to wander every day.

plus, when was the last time he had talked this much? when someone had looked at him and acknowledged his existence without him having to work for it?

—————————

as the engagement progressed, you two ended up spending hours together every week, whether you wanted to or not, and while you were mentally and emotionally exhausted from the stress your parents were putting you through, he’s looking forward to your meetings like they’re the highlight of his week…it’s ridiculous, he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, and oh god now he can’t get you out of his head.

then suddenly, you’re calling it off. the whole engagement. miraculously, you guilted your parents into going back on what they had agreed to.

his mother is appalled and frustrated, a bit exasperated now that she has to find another suitable bride for her son.

scaramouche is beyond furious.

he goes quiet with rage. he’s more snappish now, towards the maids, towards everyone. his attitude is no longer his usual arrogance and crudeness. his usual bitterness rose into an explosive temper and ruthless training just to keep himself confined to a state of sanity. there is, once again, for the first time in many, many years, an unmistakable fear of abandonment that is raging in his head. he feels so wronged.

and it’s your fault.

and then, he goes silent. if they thought it was bad when he talked, see what they think when he’s quiet.

for his mother, it’s unnerving. to the servants, it’s downright terrifying.

no one realizes that he’s calculating. no one really expects it. everyone assumed this was one big temper tantrum after suffering a huge blow to his pride.

scaramouche was really only clutching his shattered heart after giving it to someone who threw it away.

—————————

what he wants at first is revenge.

that’s what he wants to think he wants. he wants to make things even between the two of you; make you suffer like you made him. force his way into your mind in the worst way possible, and keep himself there to get the message across.

for the first few agonizing days after the annulment, he thinks; maybe that he should tamper with your parents businesses and make you a pauper, someone who is reduced to having to take care of their parents after you fall from the graces of society. and then, after that, he’s hoping you’d come crawling back to him, and ask for his help and his hand. and he’d oh-so graciously accept you back into his life; not before making you beg for it, though.

then again, perhaps toying with whatever lover you have would be a good way to get back at you. he just assumes that you have one, because you must, for you to just abandon him like that.

you should have just stayed.

either way, he’s going to make you regret it.

—————————

it doesn’t take much for scaramouche to convince his mother to have a much needed talk with your parents.

and despite everything she’s done, ei does want to make her son happy. she wasn’t blind after all; he’s always seemed to be on edge, ever since the accident, but he had changed in the short amount of time he had know you. the boy she had failed to raise and care for, someone who was now so far out of her reach, seemed to be more calm and content when you were by his side. it had been a long time since she had seen her nephew look forward to something this much.

whether you want the engagement or not matters less to her.

—————————

and so, your resistance all comes apart so easily. Ei is one of the most powerful people in the empire, so it doesn’t take much effort before she’s luring your parents into throwing you back to them and into scaramouche’s waiting arms. It would be the least she could do as his mother

it’s only a matter of time before you’re resting in the palm of his hand once again; the engagement is back on, running smoothly towards your fast approaching wedding, like your little rebellious mishap never even happened

scaramouche is reveling in it. he feels as though he’s won. and in truth, he has. he imagines the look on your face, how you’ll have to greet him eventually, look him in the eyes after tossing him to the side and then losing, and thinks about how he’s going to make your reunion as painful as possible when you do meet again

his wishes are fulfilled when not even a month later are you pushed into the expansive garden by servants and abandoned by them even quicker, watching them scurry away with pale but oddly relieved faces. once again, you were meant to suffer through another lunch date after you thought you had finally escaped and left the gloomy estate behind forever.

the familiar stone pathway and expansive flora only served to bring back bad memories of your failed attempt to gain your freedom and reminded you of what you would have to look forward to for the rest of your life. it’s only the scuffle of boots against the ground that brought you back to reality.

you knew exactly who was standing behind you.

—————————

when scaramouche saw you standing there, muscles taught and shoulders tensed as you refused to look at him, he took his time observing you, savoring the moment and committing it to memory.

his slow and deliberate footsteps did little to calm your fraying nerves. You were both surrounded by tall hedges and the gentle sound of water coming from nearby fountains. no one else was around. You were completely isolated, with only your fiancé- no, your crazed future husband- keeping you company.

and as always, his presence was suffocating.

“you know, trying to run away from me was cute, but it got annoying after the joke was over. did you really think you could go against a duchy? don’t make me laugh.” his voice had a high and condescending lit to it that seemed to grate against your ears. your stony facade crumbled soon after, instantly revealing the confusion and panic that welled in your chest.

“…why did you do it?” your voice came out hoarse and low. you whirled around, finally looking into those violet eyes. scaramouche felt a shiver of excitement run up his spine as your watery gaze met his.

“you hated this engagement just as much as I did. why did you drag me back here? we both could’ve been free.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat that pathetically choked off into a sob.

he laughed lowly as his head titled down, shielding his eyes from you. the sight made you shudder involuntarily.

“‘drag you back?’ deary, you belong to me. you did the moment I decided I wanted you. what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t know what’s good for yourself, clearly.”

when he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, he was smiling. the soft turn of his lips wasn’t full of cruelty or malice, scorn or hatred, and somehow that made the uncharacteristically gentle look so, so much worse.

scaramouche picked up your limp hand, gently turning it over, and slipped a ring onto it. it was like putting a heavy shackle on a caged bird; it was needless and unnecessary, you were already trapped. the world did not need anything else but the duchess’s final word to let everyone know who you belonged to.

but, as you stood there staring blankly ahead, you noticed scaramouche seemed genuinely happy to see the band resting on your finger.

the smile he wore turned more playful, more mocking, as those piercing eyes looked at you as if you were pitiful and small, beneath him, something that needed guidance

and his purple eyes locked with yours as he slowly pulled you to him and brought you into a soft kiss.

—————————

“Give me your love. Give me your validation. Hand yourself over to me, body, mind, and soul.”

“And what if I don’t want to?”

“Darling, do you think you have a choice?”

Bonjour

I'm back mootie🗣️🗣️

Could I request something w Scaramouche (in his Harbinger era) with an adopted kid (somewhere around 5 or 6 years old if possible)

I'm gonna be specific, so the ask could get a bit long, sorry😔

So he adopted the kid when he hadn't joined the Fatui yet (maybe before the betrayals? But could be after too) and he noticed the kid never aged, they were just stuck as a little child, both physically and mentally

But the kid could die if they got seriously hurt, so he never lets them wander off because he doesn't want them to run into danger and get crushed by a ruin guard or something like that

But one day he had to leave the kid alone, so they were left unsupervised in whatever place the Fatui stay in

And while they explored the place (since they never got to explore much) a random Fatui agent found them

Let's say that agent is a really bad person, the agent decides to hurt the kid because he assumed they were trespassing

Then the agent tosses the kid outside whatever place the Fatui stay in and leaves them there

The kid was too hurt to actually get up and get help (I don't think little kids would do well in these situations anyway) so they just accepted it and waited for something to happen

Cue Scaramouche finding the kid after searching (I think he'd find them quickly) and he's both worried and pissed (worried cuz his kid got hurt and pissed cuz someone did that to them)

The kid is too scared to say who hurt them so Scaramouche takes matter into his own hands

He finds out who hurt his kid and kills the dude (or does something else you can decide what)

And then everything goes back to normal (but Scaramouche is even more reluctant to let the kid wander alone after that incident)

If this is too much you don't have to write it!!

Take your time and take care of yourself too mootie‼️

Au revoir

Puppets

pairing: Platonic!Scaramouche x child!GNReader – wc: 2,1k – tw: bruises, child abuse (?) – a/n: HI MOOTIE!! It's been a bit of time since you sent me this ask sorry for the late reply 😞. I hope you can enjoy this <3 – reblogs and comments are appreciated!! – @gayestsillybilly

Dreams; small figments of consciousness existing inside one's unconscious state. A puppet wasn't supposed to sleep, let alone have dreams. However, when Scaramouche closes his eyes, it's as if the entire weight of his existence is lifted from his shoulders. For him, this is just further proof of his most unfortunate flaw.

There were few nights in which he would actually fall asleep; the vast majority of his dreams consisted of little memories of his time in Tatarasuna, scattered like little pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. And while Scaramouche was in the realm of dreams, a little one kept an eye on him.

His sleep was soon interrupted by hands that touched his face, poking his cheek and wiping away a small tear that had unconsciously fallen. Hands that resembled wood, but with a sort of human softness that disguised their artificial nature.

Underneath the fearful gaze, was a secret The Balladeer kept from the rest of the Fatui: the existence of a little puppet that followed him around like a baby duck following its mommy. A puppet whose intellect never evolved beyond the knowledge of a six-year-old, thus making them more of a conscious doll. And that doll was no one but [Name] themselves.

And so Scaramouche decided to get up and make some hot cocoa, like he used to prepare for them every time he was in Snezhnaya with them. It was a simple drink, yet their favorite one in this unforgiving cold.

“What are your dreams about?”

With a small sigh, he tried to look away so as to not answer [Name]’s questions. Curiosity once killed the cat, and he was damn sure that the same would happen to them one day.

“Nothing you should worry about.”

“And who said I'm worrying about you?” their tone was nonchalant; and even though he knew it wasn't ill intended, that was too straightforward.

“Oh.”

[Name] smiled at him before putting their small cup of hot cocoa away. A puppet didn't need to eat to survive, and Scaramouche couldn't understand why they enjoyed eating and drinking the same things almost everyday. Did they really need such a routine?

“You probably already know, but I'm—”

“Going on a trip again.”

They were being so nonchalant today that it made Scaramouche a bit surprised, despite his expression not having changed a bit from its usual neutral complexion. [Name] wasn’t like that, so there was definitely something wrong with them.

“You’re not usually like this, huh?” He raised an eyebrow before kneeling to reach their level.

“I don't know… I don't have a good feeling about you going away this time.”

Scaramouche sat down by their side, fixing his hair before placing his signature hat on. He wanted to find something to tell [Name] to try to relieve their fears, yet couldn’t think of anything motivating and just put his hand on their hair; he had done it many times for it to get repetitive, but this was the only type of affection he knew to comfort them.

‘Okay, I’m ready…’

[Name] finished packing the little stuff they had, mostly trinkets given by Scaramouche. Some stuff like a mask from Inazuma, a flower music box from Fontaine and a Snezhnayan doll. Scaramouche wouldn’t take them with him, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t sneak in his adventure. He would scold them, yet there wasn’t anything he could do about it when they’re already there.

“What are you doing?”

Scaramouche appeared behind them, making [Name] try to hide the bag by throwing it somewhere in the snow.

“Nothing!” They gave Scaramouche a “good kid” smile, hiding completely their mischievous plan from him.

“You already know the safety rules, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. ‘Don’t go too far, [Name]!’ and ‘don’t go near people with masks’ and stuff like that…”

He couldn't help but cross his arms in response to their tone. Deep inside, Scaramouche knew he was being a bit too overprotective; yet he didn't want to lose them like he lost the others, though [Name] was immortal just like him and there was no way he would be left alone as the time passed by.

But deep inside of him, a small sparkle of fear was enough to justify his dread. And along with this fear, came the need to protect them. So as long as he lived, [Name] would be safe and happy.

“Exactly. So just stay here and wait until I come back.”

[Name] was already used to being alone as he went on errands for the Tsaritsa, but they always missed him a lot. Though they knew he would just come back as he always did, something was bothering them.

He couldn't take them with him, not when his hands would be dirty with someone's blood; that would only make the only source of kindness left for Scaramouche afraid of him. Having [Name] openly next to him just increased drastically the chance of running into The Doctor along the way. They were the only secret he made sure that no one else knew about — especially Dottore; his worst nightmare is having [Name] end up in The Doctor’s lab.

“Then you'll have to bring me sweets,” they grinned while hugging his leg.

“We'll see how it goes.”

He gave them a weak smile, a rare sight reserved specially for them and no one else. If anyone else saw the Sixth with a genuine smile like that, chances are that they would be found dead by the next day.

His fingers tenderly caressed their head in a comforting manner. Scaramouche didn't want them to feel sad about his departure – though he knew they were already used to being left alone – since he would eventually come back to them.

Scaramouche had passed through three betrayals and, deep inside, he knew they would mark their fourth soon or later. However, he couldn't gather the courage nor the will to abandon them before being abandoned first.

“Can…”

He looked back at [Name] before removing his hand from their head, waiting for what they were going to say.

“C-can you give me a hug before going?”

Their arms tightened around his leg, not letting go of him anytime soon; at least not before he attended to their request. Their actions certainly caught his attention, since they rarely asked for anything other than candies or trinkets from whatever corner of Teyvat he went to.

“...”

Scaramouche looked at them, then elsewhere, and finally decided to take action by kneeling down to hug them. His hugs were uncomfortable since he was not the best at giving them; his hand wrapped around them carefully as he sighed. It didn’t last long, as he soon separated and turned around.

“Goodbye.”

That was what he said before going away, leaving [Name] standing in the snow. But it wouldn’t stay like this, since they would follow him again.

[Name] took their bag, cleaning the snow out of it, and went on their adventure. They hid in the woods before sneaking in a small boat Scaramouche had entered; they didn’t know where it would lead to, and after hours of traveling, the ship arrived somewhere. It didn’t look as if they had reached their final destination, so a camp was going to be built.

‘Hehe, I did it…’

They left after everyone else and put their feet in something that wasn’t snow for the first time. [Name] couldn’t help the big smile plastered on their face, they were too overjoyed to. And their eyes scanned around to look for Scaramouche, but didn’t see anyone.

“Is this what they call green gra—”

“You.”

A deep voice called from behind them, a fatui soldier carrying a gun was what they saw when turning around. A person with a mask, just like Scaramouche had alerted them to be careful of. And like any kid in their situation, [Name] tried to run away only to be grabbed by the hair.

“What are you doing here? This isn't a place for kids.”

They couldn’t see his eyes, but the anger coming from the man made [Name] shiver. A new emotion ran through their veins; was it fear? Dread? No, it was pure horror. And as if analyzing them closely, the soldier quickly lost patience and just threw them away like a sack of potatoes, making [Name] hit a tree very hard.

“Go away before things get worse to you.” He didn’t even look at them before going back to his spot, watching around to see if there was anyone else there.

As [Name] stood up, they noticed something terrible. They thought it was over until they felt something, something missing. Their left arm was lying on the ground; they weren’t just hurt, they were broken.

And in panic, they took their severed arm and ran away into the forest, not caring about anything else around them. Their face was full of tears, making [Name]’s vision blurry as they rushed and tripped on a few stones and roots; But they were too desperate to even trip.

Suddenly, [Name] bumped on something, or someone. As they looked up, they saw a familiar face: Scaramouche! They had finally found him, and he was definitely going to protect them.

As for Scaramouche, his eyes widened when he saw them. His jaw dropped when he saw them holding their arm. “What the hell are you doing here!?”

They flinched at his question, looking down. [Name] was embarrassed from having disobeyed him and ending up like this; but Scaramouche wasn’t mad at them.

He told them to wait for him where they were before going back to get something he could use to heal that terrible wound. And they waited, already having stopped crying.

“Tell me, who the hell hurt you?”

He stared deeply in their eyes, almost begging for an immediate answer from [Name]. But only sobs left the child's mouth as they held their broken arm.

"I'm broken now? Do I have to be thrown away?!”

[Name]’s voice carried a desperate tone that made Scaramouche look down, he couldn’t help the visible frown on his face as he pondered about the options he had. He himself didn't know what to do now; despite being puppets, the two of them had different compositions. What repairs him wouldn't repair them.

The only person Scaramouche knew that had the capacity of fixing [Name] was…

‘The Doctor…’

He pushed the thoughts aside and bandaged their arm, making sure to connect the forearm to the rest with a piece of wood that would be used for the campfire that night. It wasn’t going to magically heal itself, but at least they [Name] wouldn't have to carry a severed arm around.

“You won't be thrown away. Don't even think about it.”

Scaramouche then placed a hand on their shoulder and looked them dead in the eye, making sure they would understand what he was about to say. The silence between the two of them was agonizing; he was waiting for [Name] to say something, anything, that would allow him to make a decision between staying here to coddle them — not that he had much experience at coddling crying children — or going after the culprit and beating the shit out of them.

“But you need to help me here and tell me who did this to you?”

[Name] pouted, tears coming back to their eyes as they tried to wipe it away before telling him the truth.

“A scary man with a mask…”

The description definitely matched someone Scaramouche saw in the troop. Oh, that guy was doomed now; he would make him wish he was dead.

“I’m sorry… I did something wrong and it happened.”

He didn’t like seeing them apologize for something like this, so he just took their right hand and made them follow him. It was silent in the woods, making the atmosphere peaceful.

“There’s a city nearby, let’s get the candies you wanted and then go home.”

Scaramouche was going to make sure they felt better after this. Of course, they had lost an arm and he didn’t know how to fix it without The Doctor, but he wouldn’t risk losing them to him. He wouldn’t be betrayed again.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No, I would never be mad at you.”

They had both broken promises here; he didn’t protect them from getting hurt, and they didn’t follow his orders to be safe. Though there was nothing he could do now, having a peaceful rest of day was what the both of them needed.

“We have each other, don’t forget that.”

“I won’t…”

And so they marched to somewhere they could be happy for a while. He was definitely going to pay more attention to them from now on, and they ouldn’t be that reckless for their own good. Bad things happened, but they were there for each other, and it wouldn’t change.

your wanderer is so good like what??? you could literally tell me that you worked for hoyoverse and i would be like yeah that makes sense. anyway i was wondering what if wanderer had a girlfriend that was immortal like him? maybe even one that acts a little like him or has the same trauma?

If praises could kill, anon, I wouldn’t be able to answer your ask… I beseech thee, have mercy on me! And yet again I let myself drift away from the theme of the ask... Perhaps???

cw & wc: female reader, implied yandere!Wanderer, 1.7k.

Since he had (and still has, to some extent) lingering issues related to both immortals (namely that one certain woman who spurned her own creation) and mortals alike, I don’t think that Wanderer’s initial attitude would change that much if you’d also happen to be an immortal being. He’d be still as cautious around you, putting little credence in your words and actions; yet given that he’s quite a clever and perceptive little fellow, he’d be quick to sense distrust and unease in you as well (and if you’re devoted to keeping your identity a secret, it wouldn’t take long for him to expose your cover either – don’t forget that over the course of centuries, he accumulated no less amount of specific knowledge than you).

Once your past is revealed to his judgment, you might think that you could be someone he might easily connect with, considering how similar your experiences are. But it’d be a mistake on your part to presume that the former Fatui Harbinger would empathize with you and actively seek your company solely because of this world’s apparent aversion to both of you. His interest would be piqued, no doubt – he will be definitely intrigued by your persona. But that interest alone wouldn’t be sufficient for him to contemplate entering into a romantic relationship with you – you would need to maintain that interest and show him that you have immense potential; that you wouldn’t waste his time and instead would end up being a fine complement to his routine (in that regard you’d not be that different from a human woman, for the quest shall be of equal difficulty). There are some challenges you might face in your immortal & immortal dynamic, and the hardest of them all would concern (surprisingly enough) the aforementioned similarities between the two of you.

Considering that your personality might be as aloof and bitter as his own, neither of you might want to make a first step. It’s a crucial part of establishing any kind of relationship, after all, and since you both would be far from overcoming your pain any time soon, the situation might end in a stalemate. Unfortunately, Wanderer is too arrogant and too troubled to express his interest in you directly – he might come to actually like you once the strength of your character is proven, but his inability to properly communicate with people and interact with them outside of the usual “mutual business” pattern would prevent him from ever courting you. Thus, the task of laying the foundation for your future relationship shall fall on your shoulders – if you won’t come out of your shell and take the initiative, then you’ll never resolve the said stalemate; if you won’t attempt to fight your demons, you’ll get nowhere.

If you were an ordinary human female, you could’ve eventually won him over with your innocence and benignity (because he’s drawn to purity and kindness of human hearts from his very birth, and it’s a weakness he’ll never completely eliminate) – human women are indeed infamously known for their persistence and willpower when it comes to matters of love (at least in his eyes; those Yae Publishing House romantic novels were surely not misleading him in his Kabukimono days, right?). Yet you’re anything but innocent and/or nice – you are a member of a long-life species who suffered hardships incomprehensible to mortals and was subjected to horrors you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy; in a way, you’ve been defiled of the majority of your virtues. You ought to invent another approach: you must appeal to the common origins of your struggles and convince (preferably with actions, not words) him that you could work together as a pair precisely because of your firm understanding of each other’s past and the impact that your mental scars have left on your souls. Birds of a feather flock together, so how about bonding over your shared trauma and healing each other’s wounds? Don’t be too pushy and do try not to appear as a manipulative entity serving her own dubious agenda, for the puppet is not as susceptible to manipulations as he was before, back when his strings were still intact; do remember that “birds of a feather” thing was once his reason for siding with the “bad” guys, so you must choose your words carefully and phrase your arguments flawlessly, acting in accordance with your sincere intentions (you don’t want to be disowned, do you?).

Growing bored of your lover (why would you ever grow bored of such an entertainingly complex man, though?) and/or burning out from your relationship is also a problem you might someday encounter – but this time, it’d apply exclusively to you. You must be ready to embrace the fact that Wanderer (even a fully reformed one!) is a creature who harbors strong emotions and attachments; if anything, this was the cause of all his past incarnations’ downfalls. If you manage to obtain his love, then you must realize that you won’t ever be free to love anyone else but him – perceive this as the unjust contract you signed of your own volition. The concept of eternal devotion, in a rather ironic twist of fate, is not foreign to his cynical self – if he is with you, then you won’t be given a chance to leave him and have another man in your very, very long life simply because he’d aim to be your only man. He would never renounce his ownership over you, so it’s recommended that you weigh all the consequences that come with accepting the once nameless doll as your lover – as a woman who has been through a lot, you must be aware of the drastic temperament of one’s commitment (and you are definitely not that foolish to overestimate the longevity of your feelings and not that naïve to think that you would be able to successfully escape his grasp after silently promising him to stay together for millennia, are you?). A mortal woman could escape it by means of inevitable death, but you… If you dare to betray him (“betray” him in his own interpretation of the term, to be exact), expect him to haunt you forever skin to a vengeful ghost, with all his drawbacks and obsessions reanimated because why, why would you, of all people, abandon him (him, who has finally gotten a name, a new life, and a significant presence in his existence to cherish until this realm burns you two to ashes?).

Speaking of positive aspects of your relationship, you’d predictably avoid a great deal of obstacles that would’ve befallen a mortal lady. There would be plenty of advantages you’d hold over a human woman: for instance, Wanderer would be willing to allow you to travel with him (something that his overprotective and overly paranoid self would’ve never allowed his human lover to do, regardless of her occupation) and participate in combat if necessary (he’d teach you how to fight just in case you lack either a Vision or skills required to protect yourself, but beware: he’d be a very strict teacher) – depending on your type of immortality, he might not be inclined to worry about losing you in a heated battle with either living beings or environmental conditions (and nothing would be as delightful and pleasurable as shredding a pack of vile brutes to bloody pieces together). Due to special properties of your character, you’d also probably never genuinely annoy him or enrage him – all distant and unapproving of indolence (thanks to your resemblance to him in terms of personality traits), you wouldn’t force him to chastise you or mock you, and your antics wouldn’t ever play on his nerves (because you’d obviously never resort to such childish behavior); you’d add a note of harmony to his once discordant life. What flaws Wanderer would’ve loathed in his human lover would be naturally absent in you, and if you’d somehow succumb to any imperfections inherent in human beings, he’d be only slightly frustrated than outright furious (“To think that after centuries of unjust treatment, you would converse with them so nonchalantly,” the indigo-haired youth would huff, visibly uncomfortable at the sight of you talking to human children, and… Wait, did he accuse literal children of having abused you?)

On the other hand, you – as his immortal lover – would only fuel his antipathy towards mortals, whereas the gentle influence of his human lover would’ve changed his prejudiced opinion on humans overall.

It goes without saying that he’d still uphold his cold, sarcastic front and tease you in a rather blunt (read: mean) yet playful fashion whenever he’d get the chance, but hey – why would you, a woman of equally intricate temper, feel anything but appreciation of his peculiar manner of conveying affection? On the contrary, you’d be capable of enjoying his unruly self more so than any woman on this continent.

Yet the most important and unique detail about your relationship would be the intensity of Wanderer’s fear of good old imminent separation – to be precise, that fear would evaporate in a blink. Since you’re an immortal yourself, there would be no point in overthinking certain… things. He’d be more relaxed compared to his usual tense self and a bit more open to the idea of letting you enjoy your life once in a while without him interfering and watching over you like a mother hen; unlike mortal insects who are always at risk of being swayed even by the gentlest gust of wind, you’re competent, capable, and not that fragile to be crushed so easily. You won’t be the source of yet another tragedy, for death won’t claim you – the cruelty of old age or terminal illness shall never bother you, and he won’t be afraid of other causes because he’ll never let anything or anyone land a scratch on you. What he would’ve feared most in his supposed relationship with a mortal female will simply not exist in his relationship with you – you’ll be truly, undisputably his. Dread of abandonment will still be alive deep inside his psyche, however (after all, other men do breathe and walk); just as a fair share of his other, good old (“I am not worthy of something that’s not awful”, for example) insecurities. But that particular fear of being unable to keep his promise of everlasting loyalty won’t be gnawing at his illusionary heart anymore—

Because that hollow heart of his will be finally filled with purpose to beat for.