Scaramouche + "i Love You So Much, I Could Look At You For Hours And Not Get Bored."

I was wondering for poly harbingers (except Pulcinella cuz he's like my father figure) what would it be like if like the reader fell first but obviously since everyone of them r harbingers they're terrible at feelings and reader is always trying to get them to love them but after a while they just give up and leave snezhanya and that's when the grovelling starts? Sorry u can ignore this if u want <3

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(not really a request it's more brainrot but I still wanted to send this hdjshdb) Imagine being a new recruit to the Fatui and end up becoming all of the harbingers favorite,,, like you're just a new cicin mage or agent and they all dote on you and can and will spoil you rotten,,,I just love the harbingers being soft gidigsigdsgi <3

♡ 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡

synopsis: When you fell in love with the Harbingers, you already knew that they didn't do love, or feelings, or emotions. You knew that, but it still hurt when you kept trying your best to woo them, but to no avail. Thankfully, things turn around.

includes: all harbingers (except pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: To both these anons, yes!! This is so cute! (I kinda combined two asks and sent them in as one myself. Also, this turned into my just spewing my thoughts around, so apologies if it's kinda messy.) I want them all to hug me. NOW!

Everyone joins the Fatui for different reasons. Some to become stronger, to get paid to support their families, some to faithfully serve the Tsaritsa, and some to climb the ranks. Your reason, however, had nothing to do with that. It might be stupid- no, actually it is dumb, but you joined simply because you thought all the Harbingers were handsome, gorgeous, beautiful, and everything else. (Minus Pulcinella, you daydreamed of him being your grandpa, telling you stories from long ago, and eating cookies you baked together.) Capitano? Even with the helmet, he still managed to woo you. La Signora? You admired her confidence and the long hair that flowed after her. Dottore? He’d probably kill you but you were determined. Arlecchino? Her permanent resting face was still attractive. You could go on about all the Harbingers… but the main point was that you made it your goal to gain all of their attention. (Your ambition probably rivaled Childe’s, and for the least sane reasons.)

You couldn’t bear the embarrassment of messing up in front of the Harbingers so you trained a long time before you joined the Fatui. You may not have a Vision, but you could still kick serious ass. You hoped that your skill would eventually catch the attention of at least one of the Harbingers. And what did you know - your hopes and efforts paid off. The day had come when all the new recruits would have their first training battles with each other. Everyone would be separated randomly into eleven groups with a Harbinger watching over each. Who would you get? You’d be fine with anyone really. You and the other recruits uniformly filed into the arena and there he was - Capitano. He was so well formed, dwarfing everyone else, and he was even more attractive up close, but also more intimidating up close. He didn’t notice you, of course, but nothing would stop you. You heard some relieved sighs from the others. Capitano was much more composed and didn’t have a bad temper like some of the other Harbingers. (We won’t mention names.)

Soon, you were paired with other random recruits to spar, and it was a cakewalk. You didn’t even need to use the wooden sword - you could easily trip them on their own feet by dodging their attacks. You could feel a lot of eyes on you due to all the wins you were effortlessly getting. Oh, and you could feel that especially intense gaze, belonging none other to the Harbinger. Oh, how giddy you were for him to talk to you. And he did! Not as quick as you hoped, but you were prepared to wait a long time. Since that day, the higher-ups ranking below the Harbingers saw you as someone reliable and assigned you more tasks than the average recruit, which led to your deeply desired meetings with the Harbingers.

The first Harbinger got to speak more than a couple of words first was Childe. He was always looking for a good fight, so when he heard of your abilities, he couldn’t help but seek you out and ask for a sparring match. You were ecstatic and accepted, and you lost, of course, but training with Childe had put you in a great mood. And furthermore, he complimented your abilities and urged you to keep training, so he could keep sparring with you. You could have cried tears of joy right there. Since then, the Eleventh Harbinger began to see you more and more.

As you climbed the ranks, people talked about you more and more. You didn’t care much for their attention, but you really hoped the Harbingers were hearing about you too. For some reason, you were assigned to a specific squad, and you were more running around helping each Harbinger’s division. (You didn’t complain though - you had the chance to familiarize yourself with each section.)

It had been a while since you joined, but you finally had it. You had the honor of delivering paperwork and reports directly to each Harbinger. You could finally see them up close. Scaramouche, who sneered and rolled his eyes at you for a while, but grew curious when you’d keep coming back with a smile on your face. Arlecchino who gave you the same cold look every day but was surprised to see you play with the orphans. Childe who waved you over and called you comrade. Capitano and Pierro who nodded at you politely and went back to their work. Dottore who did his usual crazy and maniacal things but grew interested when you weren’t that phased. Columbina who was usually asleep or singing to herself but began conversing with you after many meetings. La Signora who grew fond of you after all the other recruits pushed you to deliver any news to her because they were too scared. Pantalone who teases you with his velvety voice and kept offering you a job as his personal secretary. Sandrone who doesn’t say much but lets you look at her robots since you’re the only one who's not scared. And Pulcinella… the one who is being your father figure and dropping some fun facts about the other Harbingers without their knowledge.

You had worked your way up to the point that they could remember your name and face, which was amazing considering how many recruits there are. With this, you began to try and actually talk to them more. Pretty much all the recruits were terrified of saying anything more than “Yes, Lord Harbinger” to them so to hear you actually voice your thoughts was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. If it were anyone else, they’d be punished by now, but you were different, for some reason. The more friendly ones would sometimes invite you to their office during their breaks. Another would forcibly drag you from whatever you were doing to follow him around (totally not Scara.) Some would lock you up in their labs with them and order you to help them with their experiments. And sometimes, you’d find gifts in your living quarters. Soon enough, every time you appeared, you were at the side of a Harbinger. The more you were in their presence, the more and more you loved them. You had garnered that all of them had some terrible backstory and all you really wanted to do was share your feelings and make them feel warm inside.

The only thing was, no matter how hard you tried to drop any hints, or get them to engage in conversations other than work, was fruitless. Even when you got promoted to Harbinger status, your main job was to assist others in their work. So you did, but along with basic things that they forgot to do. Simple meals, each catered to their liking, coffee or tea, made how they like it best, frequently sat on their desk, made by you. That huge stack of documents? Already signed off by you. Little trinkets you thought they’d like were given. But they still didn’t catch on to how much you liked them?! You were literally doing everything besides kissing them at this point. It was starting to give you a headache.

You kind of felt stupid and sad, to put this much time and effort into this plan, only for the rest of the Harbingers to treat you mostly as their colleague. But this was incredibly stupid in the first place so you couldn’t really blame anyone. You knew they were horrible with feelings, but… damn, it was really bad. And now you were a damn Harbinger so you couldn’t exactly leave the organization. Since you were a new Harbinger, you weren’t required to leave the nation for some time, but you needed some time alone, so you directly applied to the Tsaritsa to send you out to a foreign nation for some mission. Little did you know about the switch-up that was about to happen.

For once, the Harbingers were grateful for Scaramouche’s confrontational nature. After hearing news of your possible departure from Snezhnaya, all the Harbingers were suddenly wide awake and with the same question - Why are you leaving, and why do they feel so irritated at the loss of your presence? Thankfully, they could leave the first question up to the Sixth Harbinger while they listened on from far away.

A sudden call of your name and hard, impatient footsteps behind you stopped you in your tracks. Anyone in the Fatui could easily recognize those ones. You turned around and saw a very peeved Scaramouche. Before you could greet him, he crossed his arms and spoke.

“Why are you leaving?”

“What do you mean?”

He scowled, “Why are you leaving this nation? There is no reason for you to go.” You didn’t know the news would spread so fast, and that he of all people would be the first to say something.

“I’ve just decided I need more real experience to better complete my duties,” you lied. Hell, you’d stay here forever if you could but it just hurt to see the Harbinger’s faces every day and not have your relationships progress.

“What about your duties here? You’re supposed to help us.” To be honest, Scaramouche could care less about duties and whatnot, he just had this nagging, irritating feeling of loneliness that kept popping up when he thought of you leaving for months on end.

“Well, there’s a hundred other recruits you can ask for help. From what I can remember, last time you got mad at me because your coffee wasn’t bitter enough,” you frowned back. “Everyone’s survived without me before, I think you can survive without me again.” You didn’t mean to add that much sass but you just left before the situation escalated.

Scaramouche and the other hidden Harbingers watched you leave. They didn’t mean to come off that way… they just have shitty communication skills.

I have to throw this in but- Grandpa Pulcinella who scolds the hell out of the other Harbingers for their denseness and communication. Has to actually explain to them that you’re relatively normal compared to them, so you’re expecting normal interactions in return. And that they have to start doing better before you ditch their asses. So now, the Harbingers are very out of characteristically groveling to silently convince you to stay.

Scaramouche has to physically bite down on his tongue to prevent any accidental snarkiness from coming out. It’s not that he wants to be that mean, it’s just his natural reflex to say something like that after every sentence. Orders you to accompany him to places but he just walks around randomly while you ask where exactly you’re going. Allows himself to become softer in your presence because he doesn’t want to lose you. He has been betrayed enough times, he doesn’t want to see you go.

Capitano makes an effort to frequently invite you to his office so he can just listen to you talk. Also thanks you a lot for everything. He’s very unsure about how to treat you in the best way possible. So he just listens to you talk and secretly takes notes instead of doing paperwork. Also is scared to initiate any physical contact because he’s afraid of breaking you somehow, is jealous of the other Harbingers for this reason. Also opens doors for you, I just see him as a gentleman. Doesn’t know how to tell you not to leave him, so he just comments on how quiet his office will be without you.

La Signora who invites you to go shopping with you many times. Spoils you with the best clothing, cologne/perfume, hair products, and much more. She did have a previous lover so she at least knows about love, she was just hesitant and scared because of how her last relationship ended. But she’s the one whose not afraid to touch you - will curl a lock of hair of yours around her finger and hum, or place her hands on your shoulders, silently conveying that she’d rather have you here, safe in her arms, than outside.

Dottore doesn’t know how to show genuine affection like a regular person so his idea of making you stay is appointing you as his personal assistant who gets special access to his lab, notes, and answers to any questions you want. To an average person, it seems useless, but when the genius mad scientist bestows upon you this, you better at least show your thanks. (It’s so funny to see how he thinks he’s doing good, and you’re just like hmm yea such an interesting bloody fact!) Subtly drops the fact that he can’t do his experiments without your help anymore, which would lead to problems within the Fatui, so you simply must stay.

Childe continues to spar with you, only this time he physically shows you the right form, his strong arms positioned on you. Will painfully lament about how he’ll miss these “little sparring dates.” Cooks your favorite food and coughs about how you won’t get authentic Snezhnaya cuisine anywhere else. Also brings you to his family so Teucer and the other siblings can cry to you about how much they’ll miss you.

Arlecchino is still quiet and cold as usual but makes a much bigger effort to talk more than normal. She lets herself smile now when you’re around inside of restricting it. Is secretly scared of you dying in a foreign land. Also comments about how the kids always look forward to your storytelling and visit.

Sandrone doesn’t know what to tell you in person so she makes cute little robots of your favorite animals that deliver messages to you. She takes inspiration from the notes you leave her and other Harbingers - “Make sure to eat and drink some water <3” or “Please don’t stay up until three AM doing paperwork or experimenting” Sometimes, you write “And Dottore, I don’t want to be woken up by your maniacal laughter that early in the morning. Go to sleep, please. That includes all of you.” The most important note Sandrone sends is “Don’t go.”

Pantalone just spoils you endlessly. Gifts upon gifts upon an immense sum of Mora being deposited into your account. Your whole closet is full of clothes despite the only thing you wear is literally your Harbinger clothes and a big fluffy coat. The one who calls you into his office not even to do any work, but to just to flirt with you, show you around his huge mansion, get your opinions and interests so he knows what to buy for you later on. It’s awfully lonely around here when he doesn’t have anyone to spoil, he complains.

Pierro is the one whose old and wise, yet he still has problems dealing with these feelings he always keeps sealed you. He is the Harbinger who you probably see the least, yet you always make an effort to scurry up to him and inquire about his day, because he apparently always looks tired. Pierro doesn’t say much but enjoys these sparks of brightness into his dark life. Gives you advice about anything, your troubles may seem mundane compared to his but he wants you to be stress free. He doesn’t want to intrude on your Harbinger duties, but he really will miss you bouncing around headquarters.

Columbina takes you to visit the most beautiful but unknown places in Snezhnaya, and often falls asleep on you there (you can’t say no to her.) Hums that she’ll be sad to not have anyone as her personal pillow anymore.

You’re pretty much overwhelmed by all this positive attention - you finally did it! And you deliver the news they’ve all been anxiously awaiting: you won’t leave your snowy nation anymore. And that you also have something important to tell them.

At this point, all the Harbingers know that each other has taking a strong liking to you, and all of them are quite literally, ready to fight for your love. That is, until you explain how you love all of them and want to cherish all of them equally. None of them are quite pleased with the arrangement, but they do see how happy you are with each of them, so they won’t say anything. Some of the Harbingers probably grow a bit closer to each other, just by talking about you.

“You know, when we went to Liyue together, we took a lot of pictures together. I’ve even got one of them cuddling their pillow.”

Cue nine other heads snapping in the other direction.

“You brat, don’t hog it to yourself. Give it to me.”

“Indeed, I want a copy as well.”

“I do too, for research purposes.”

“Oh, they look so cute like that!”

After everything is established and such, I can see Scaramouche who bickers with the other Harbingers, especially the lower ranking ones over your time and attention. All of them are possessive but Scaramouche hates almost everyone and has no problem voicing his biting thoughts aloud, while other Harbingers prefer to be more professional and not cause a scene. Surprisingly enough, he gets along a little bit better with Childe (if you count calling him various curses and electrocuting him every five seconds better). Even still, Scara would much rather prefer to keep you to himself, and you do too unless you want him to be scowling at another Harbinger the whole time. And you often spend time with Childe alone too, just because he’s not very close with the others. He has beef with all the women Harbingers, and he’s actually a lot more… sane than the other males, or they’re too high ranking for him to talk to. If anything, he’d love to spend time with you and Capitano just so he can admire both of you and your strength. (It’s more of a pipe dream, but if you manage to make it happen, he’ll be ecstatic.) Hell, you might even be spending time with Childe and grandpa Pulcinella because he thinks of you as his kids, lol. He gives Childe great advice on how he wooed others back in the day. Also, Childe who is arguably the sanest and romantic and is actually knowledgable about this stuff helps the other Harbingers on how to treat you. (Is my bias showing? Sorry.)

Arlecchino and Columbina who like to spend time with you together. Columbina likes to use you two as a pillow as she falls asleep, while you tell both of them about your day. Both of them are the quiet types so they go quite splendidly together with you. La Signora and Sandrone also join sometimes for sleepovers and self-care days (I like to think all the female Harbingers are secretly close with each other and respect each other a bunch <3.) They all would pamper you, all different in the areas they excel in. Columbina and Signora take on your hair, Sandrone has her robots take care of your nails, and Arlecchino helps you with anything else really (she’s at a loss with this kind of stuff so the others teach her.) They’re probably the most harmonic group here, and they don’t mind sharing you, but they tend to scoff at the other men when they’re near you. Also expect lots and LOTS of kisses all over your body with them <3. They all got to destress with you after all these Harbinger duties. Oh, and also expect tea parties with them!

Dottore who also often spends time with you alone because the other harbingers don’t like him very much due to his… you know. If anything, Pantalone or Sandrone usually join in him spending time with you. The former isn’t too scared of Dottore because he provides funding, the latter respects Dottore for his robotic knowledge and tends to actually observe his experiments sometimes. Dottore loses patience with Pantalone more quickly, due to his charming and even flirtatious nature when he’s around you. Dotty likes Sandrone a bit more due to her more subdued and quiet nature. Dottore who will drone on about the most sciency things in order to get anyone else to leave so he can be alone with you.

Capitano and Pierro who like to share you too, are both big, tall, and initially awkward men. (I like to think both of them are on good terms with each other.) Neither of them are sure of how to treat sweet, little you. But they are both so infatuated with you that they just let you take the lead for now. The two of them are more on the quiet, gentle giant (and also very much overworked) so they enjoy the calm and peaceful activities. (I don’t know why, but I imagine picnics with the two of them, where Capitano is taking up half of the blanket and sitting with his legs to his chest.)

All of your lovers fight over who gets to take you with them on their mission outside Snezhnaya. (They’re coming with me to Inazuma… no, they should come to Liyue with me… actually, they’re staying in Snezhnaya with me.) Most of them are not very fond of each other, but they can come together just a bit, if it’s for you. Also, all the Harbingers wonder if they’re truly worthy of you. They have all this blood and chaos on their hands but you still allow them to hold you and touch you. None of them voice this out loud but they know every one of them thinks the same thing. (Extra - the Tsaritsa who is amused and curious at how you managed to get all her devoted Harbingers wrapped around your finger so quickly. Pulcinella who is initially shocked at the relationship… “youngsters these days” but grows to accept it. Fatui recruits who get whiplash from seeing their cold and stoic Harbingers become nicer in your presence.)

would you like a new home? (pt. 3.3)

forethoughts: y'all i'm on such an arlecchino down-badness syndrome i'm writing so much and releasing so much. i think after this i'm going to write more short stories w/ father and reader, so it's gonna be like a cumulative story of reader as their adventures as father's child. (spoilers oops)

notes: gn!child!reader, NOT AN X READER READER IS A CHILD!!!

You were still awake when the door creaked open, and Father’s heels clicked against the ground. Father tried to place the tray of food gently on the table, but you could still hear the porcelain hit the wood.

“Are you going to continue to pretend to sleep, or come and eat?” Father had a playful tone to her voice.

Of course Father knew you weren’t asleep.

Father made her way towards you, placing a hand on your head as she ran her fingers through the knots in your hair. “How are you, my dear?”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. Your head was still pounding from the orphan’s foot, making it uncomfortable to sleep on that side. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Good.” Father looked at your sleepy expression, a soft smile on her face as she petted your head. “Do you know that I would do anything for you, my dear? I treasure you dearly and hold you near my heart.” 

“Y-Yes, Father. I-I do too…”

“Do you?” Father chuckled. “I am very happy to hear that. Especially from you.”

Father kissed the top of your head, before standing up, heading towards the door. “Eat up, my dear. When you finish your plate of food, please come find me in my office. I will be waiting for you.”

Father closed the door behind her, leaving the lights on. Letting out a sigh, you crawled out of bed, hobbling over to the table as you climbed onto the chair, examining the tray of food. Next to the plate of Jueyun Chili Parcels was an envelope with Father’s seal on it. You took the small letter opener Father had gifted you, and carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a piece of paper, filled with a sea of ink. You would rather read the cookbook than this. 

“Adoption… guardian… Arlecchino… Y/N… child…” You picked out words you knew, filling in the blanks with your best guess. The word adoption rang in your head. Adoption? No one ever got adopted ever from the House of Hearth. Father said that this was the place orphans from all over would grow up in and graduate from. Arlecchino… that was Father’s name. You recall overhearing some of the caretakers calling Father Arlecchino. 

Father… plans on adopting me? The thought struck your head, causing the paper to fall out of your hands. You immediately picked it up, eyes scanning the ink. That was literally what the paper saids. On the bottom were two straight lines adjacent to each other. One had Father’s signature on it, while the others was empty. Father… Father truly planned on adopting you. This was actually happening. You searched the envelope, looking for anything else. A note. A small folded piece of paper.

My dear Y/N,

Perhaps this will be the happy ending for the both of us. So would you like a new home, my dear?

Father.

Father. 

Father genuinely planned to adopt you.

Father wanted you to become her actual child.

Was that why Father was always kinder to you?

Was this why Father was always much more lenient and biased to you? 

It was because Father wanted you to be her child?

Her actual child?

You took a deep breath, picking up the first piece of paper instead. Pure adrenaline rushed through your body, thoughts racing through your head as your heart desperately tried to claw out of your ribs. This was happening. Serotonin and joy was the only emotion you could feel; not an ounce of worry or fear in your heart. Why weren’t you scared? Why weren’t you worried? 

Because Father.

Father was the one asking you.

Father was asking you to be her child.

Father was giving you the one thing you craved ever since you gained the ability to comprehend.

A family.

A relationship.

Someone who truly loved you.

A parent.

So how could you ever say no?

A new home.

A new life.

No more loneliness.

No more fear or worry.

No more doubt or anxiety.

A new home. 

With Father.

Arlecchino reclined back in her chair, playing with the pen in her hand. Out of anything she had ever experienced or done in her life, this was the one moment she felt genuine worry about. She could not plan this out. She could not make failsafes or backup plans. This was a reckless action. But the action she desperately wanted to take.

Arlecchino had saw a part of herself in you; that was what drawed you in to her. She saw that kid who never got along with anyone else, that was always lost in their little world. She wanted to give you the support she never had growing up. So she gave you the little perks she never had. She gave you all she wanted when she was your age. 

It was unfortunate she could not find a companion for you.

But everything always works out in the end.

Life always finds a way to piece everything together.

Arlecchino was brought back to reality when she saw one of the doorknobs twist open, your adorable figure entering the room as you hobbled towards her. The letter she had purposefully placed on the tray was in your hands, cut open and the adoption paper on top of the envelope. You climbed onto the chair on the other side of her desk, placing the adoption paper on her desk. 

Arlecchino watched you with a stoic expression, unable to resist a grin as she saw your cute child face look down and fiddle with the hem of your sleeve in nervousness.

“Well?” Arlecchino cleared her throat. “What do you think about my offer?”

“...Yes.” You smiled brightly, nodding your head. “I w-want to be your actual child.”

The corners of Arlecchino’s lips shot up to her eyes. “Come here.”

Arlecchino didn’t even mind you stepping on her desk to leap into your arms, as she wrapped her arms around your back and head tightly, hugging you close to her chest. The warmth in her heart only grew when you reciprocated the hug back, your tiny arms clutched onto the sides of her ribs.

Arlecchino let out a content sigh, a smile on her face. Now she could say the one phrase that held meaning to it. No more teasing. No more playfulness. 

“My child.”

Love that Beat Vanity

Scaramouche/GN! Reader - Forced Established Marriage

TW: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Verbal Abuse

A/N: HELLO! Thank you for reading my goofy little oneshots once again. I've decided to have every Scaramouche fics I write on this acc to have some kind of continuation. So, if you have read my previous works, the reader's lore will be the same throughout this series. But you don't have to read the previous works to catch up with the story since I wrote it as oneshots, scenarios and whatnot.

If you choose not to read the previous works, Reader was an orphan who survived stealing from people but stole from the wrong person one time and was taken and placed in a human trafficking ring, Scaramouche bought her to work at for the Fatui and the rest is history.

-----

It has been 5 years since Scaramouche has taken you as his spouse. You have still not adapted well into this new "domestic" life that was forced onto you by your husband. The lessons you have to keep taking because you can't make yourself to remember it all, has started to take a toll on your body.

Sleep has been difficult to achieved, it might be near impossible as your husband demands for the two of you to sleep together in the same bed, as husband and spouse. But try as you might to close your eyes, the moment you feel his arms snake around your waist, you freeze up like a statue and not sleep until you pass out from exhaustion. However, when you wake up from fainting, you'll feel the blanket placed properly on top of you, the bed side where your husband would always lay on, cold.

You have no doubt that Scaramouche loves you, too much in fact.

Early in the morning, he would leave you in bed and attend to his harbinger duties. Not a single item of his was ever misplaced whenever he fixes himself up. His sakura blossom perfume would always be placed in it proper spot and his brush to add the rouge over his eyelids were clean from any color, as if it was never even used.

Tidiness can't be said the same to your vanity table. Although you rarely use the furniture as it was intended, you do use it as something to leave the fabrics that you have meticulously stitched from the lessons that Scaramouche forced on you. They were ugly, so you have no idea why your husband lets you leave them in the open.

Your 'lovely' Scaramouche once commented on how your needlework was "god awful that even a child can do better". You might not have expressed it physically, but it hurt to hear him say that. Blood was spilled when you were creating your first fabric But you learned the truth later on that the first finished fabric you have created was hidden in the drawer of his office.

It makes your heart confused on why he has to resort to harsh tactics to get a semblance of your "love". Why can't your husband act like a normal person?

Mornings has been something you have been waiting for every single day for the past 5 years. For the whole morning, you have the manor all to yourself. A place for you to be alone with your thoughts. But when the hour hand reaches 12 PM, your teacher for that day will be coming to teach you another useless skill that you will never remember.

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

Bleeding Pastels (Kabukimono x Reader)

The puppet's life is colourful; while tainted and stained with a dark smudge in the middle- originating from his creation- at least it won't discolour the world he lives in...

right?

Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader

Kabukimono era

Canon-divergent. Some abuse briefly described later on. Symbolism-heavy. Read between the rainbow to find the shadows that the light casts.

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I. Pink

The day that the boy first saw you, he almost mistook you for a god.

You sat alone underneath wispy sunlight that broke through the gaps in the bright pink petals above you. Gently fluttering down around you, picking up with the occasional spring breeze; sakura petals adorned your atmosphere and lay like a bed around your form.

The shade of pink that dusted the boy's cheeks was only somewhat darker then the beautiful pale pink of the sakura and it's flowers.

The boy could only stare in awe, lost in his own world of reverence and admiration- that was until a beautiful, soft voice pulled him out of his head.

"And who might you be?"

The puppet blinks. Your bright, vivid irises held him captive among the falling blossoms; his pale pink lips open and close without a sound- the boy unable to find a response.

You laugh. Gods, that sound makes something within him stir. It steals his artificial breath and replaces it with something so soft and light that he does not dare to look too deep into.

"Well? There's room for both of us here, if you want." You say with a smile, palm patting the soft grass beside you.

It takes a moment for the puppet to register your words, but as soon as he does it's like a string has been pulled taut- and he longs to loosen the tension that has formed. He makes his way over to you, his knees folded underneath him as he merely stares at you silently.

"You're that boy that guy brought with him a couple days ago, right? What's your name?"

For once, the puppet speaks.

"I... Don't know." His voice is soft, light, and almost somewhat childish. He sounds so innocent and boyish.

Your eyes wander down his face and trail down his arms. He doesn't say anything, but he can see you stop and stare at the joints in the middle of his arms; the ones attached with a ball and some hinges.

"Hey, you're not human, are you?" You say with curiosity in your tone, as you pull yourself onto your knees to take a closer look. Your hands are soft as they take ahold of his wrist and hand, pulling it out to a stretch as you stare in wonder at his unblemished skin and the way his arm connects to the rest of his body.

The puppet watches as a bright pink petal flutters down against the untainted sky and lands delicately in your hair.

"I hope you forgive me for oogling you; I've just never met someone like you before..."

Your eyes flicker up to meet his wide-eyed stare; and you offer him a smile as bright as the sunlight above.

"Your skin is so soft, and the way your elbows are designed is so cool! Are your knees like this too?"

The puppet doesn't say anything; instead unable to find an appropriate response as all he can do is nod his head.

"Really? That's so cool!" You say with wonder to match his own.

"I'm (Y/N). I-"

Your mouth hangs open, but no words escape you as you watch the puppet's hand slowly move atop your head. Delicate fingers pluck what his eyes are so intensely trained on from your hair, before bringing it down infront of the both of you to see.

"This... was on you."

You blank at the pink petal between his fingers, and for a moment the puppet's mind whirs to life with questions of whether he had done something wrong, but you soon snap out of your trance with a laugh. The boy sits still, confused about your reaction.

"Thank you. You don't have to show it to me though." You say before snatching the soft object from him and swiftly placing it atop his own head.

You laugh at the expression on his face from your actions, and the puppet finds the wonderful sound brings a smile to his face. He doesn't quite understand why you did that, or why you're laughing, but he finds your joy infectious all the same.

II. Purple

Over time, the people of Tatarasuna as well as the puppet himself learned how he differed and how he was similar to the humans around him.

He felt pain and bled just like they did. Yet, he didn't seem to have a heart. He didn't need to eat or drink either, but he claimed that he could and that he wanted to do so to 'become more human'.

The puppet- now called Kabukimono by his peers- also didn't quite understand social ques and what was wrong or right. After finding out that humans would often disrobe and bathe when they became dirty, the puppet had tried to do the same in the nearby stream of village. That little event had a few people swiftly ushering him to put his clothes back on while laughing awkwardly; as if he was a child who didn't truly know what he was doing.

Which, in all honestly, was pretty much what he was. A child who knew nothing about the world or people around him. But he was learning.

The pastel purple clothing that he was so often seen in flowed freely in the breeze; the smell of lavender was picked up by the summer wind off his freshly washed robes and filled his nostrils with the calming scent. It was the smell that adorned him whenever you were the one responsible for washing his clothes (as you often took turns among the other villagers to look after him).

He had grown to love that scent.

"Just... like... this." You said as you dragged the teeth of the comb through his wet hair; letting the Kabukimono watch your actions through the mirror.

"Think you got it?" He nods at your question, and you hand him the comb.

His hand is steady as he mimics your previous movements; dragging the teeth of the light purple comb through the strands of dark indigo atop his head. After a few strokes, he pulls the comb away; a deep violet staining the teeth as if to remind him that he wasn't like you.

You smile at him. "Perfect! Just like that. Now you're all set to wash yourself next time you need to."

The Kabukimono stares down at the comb in his hands; staring down at the violet that taints the pastel shade. You had gotten him this comb, it was one of the first objects he had ever owned. And now, because of him, it was stained a dark purple from the dye that was used for his colour- that still coated his hair.

And yet, the same dark stain that now marred his gift from you had dyed your palms a similar shade to that of the comb- a bright, pastel purple. Originally, he had panicked and apologized profusely for staining you, for tainting you, but you merely had laughed and said you didn't mind. That it would go away eventually.

And while others wore gloves when taking care of him and his hair, you didn't. You let your fingertips run through the dark locks and dance across the top of his forehead; you let him feel the warmth and softness of your touch as you scrubbed the dirt and dust that had accumulated in his hair. You let his colour stain you; and somehow, you managed to make the dark purple such a bright and beautiful shade of lavender once it touched your skin.

"My... arms hurt. Can you do this for me?" He says quietly, turning towards you and holding the comb back up to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling in adoration at the Kabukimono's barely-concealed lie.

You had done a lot to take care of him and teach him about various things; he knew that lying was 'bad' and that he shouldn't do it. But even so, on rare occasion- like right now- he would say something small that didn't match what you already knew. And it would always end up with you taking a little extra care of him then you otherwise would have.

You knew you shouldn't let him keeping lying, but he was so bad at telling them, and it was adorable how he yearned for attention... so you couldn't make yourself scold him for his behaviour. You let this lie slide like all the others.

"Alright, alright. Come on then, turn around."

You can see the corners of his mouth tip upward in a smile, however subtle, as he did as he was told and let you run both the comb and your fingers through his hair.

The Kabukimono couldn't help but watch your hands. To seek glimpses of the bright purple staining on your palms that could only have been from him. He always loved when the other humans would point out your coloured hands and comment on how you practically took sole care of him with how often your hands took on the familiar shade.

Even when he wasn't by your side like a loyal puppy, it was like a part of him was still with you. Even if at first he saw the colour as a stain upon your otherwise perfect skin, you had assured him that it was harmless, told him you liked the colour, even.

You had taught him that being 'selfish' is one of the 'bad' things, and he shouldn't be 'selfish'. But if it was so 'bad', then why did it feel good? Why did it feel good to leave a piece of him with you, as if to claim you as his own human?

The teeth of the comb grew ever darker as they sorted through his indigo hair.

III. Yellow

For a being that was supposedly crafted by the hands of the god of thunder, the Kabukimono couldn't help but jump at each loud roar of lightning that dared to light up the dark night.

"Oh, Kabuki..."

The puppet was shaking; his arms wrapped around his knees as he sat staring at the floor, trying to ignore each jolt of thunder only to be hyper aware of every crash of it outside the window.

The pity in your voice somehow comforted the puppet, even more so when you kneeled beside him to pull him into a hug.

"It's ok, you're not in any danger. The Electro Archon would never hurt us."

The Kabukimono still shook. Sure, she may never hurt you, but to him- every bolt that struck the earth was searching for him; the fruit of the anger and hatred he knew his mother held for him.

Each flash of lightning lit the inside of your warm home a bright yellow. A stark contrast to the usual deep purple of the electro element he knew so well.

Your hand smoothed over his back, the other wrapped around his shoulders as you held him close. Another flash had him jump once again; burying his face into your shoulder as if to try to hide from the storm.

"Oh, hey, hey... It's ok..." You tried to soothe him, your voice gentle and low as his arms wrapped around you to hold tightly to your clothes.

Your arms wrapped around him were warm, firm, secure, as if you were the one shielding him from the tumultuous rain and deafening thunder.

"Ok, c'mon, lets go to bed."

The boy in your arms sniffled as you pushed him away from you, guiding him towards your plush bed.

"B-But... My bed..." He mumbled out, his eyes falling onto a small mat off to the side that you had done your best to make comfortable. And as shabby as it was, the Kabukimono loved it. You had made it for him, after all.

"You won't be able to sleep if you're over there, will you? This storm doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon, so... Why don't you stay with me? That way, I can protect you."

The deep purples of his eyes were wide and glossy with tears at your proposal; but he swiftly nodded and climbed onto the bed with you following suit.

The two of you got settled underneath the blankets, and the Kabukimono couldn't tell if your bed was just more comfortable then his, or if he really liked being beside you that much more then being alone. He watched as you shifted around; moving the pillow you normally slept on to rest underneath his head as you lay flat on the mattress next to him.

You smiled at him, a smile that made his chest tighten and something within his artificial body malfunction. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of your fingers brushing along the side of his face, pushing his bangs out of the way of his eyes.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep? I'll be right here if you need me."

The rain was loud on the old glass of your home; a flash of lightning bringing attention to the lack of purple that the Kabukimono had so loved to see on your hands.

But the fear of the thunder triumphed over his sadness that his hair no longer stained your palms; and he couldn't help but jump at the noise that shook him to his core once again.

Trembling hands grabbed your soft, steady one and brought it up to his cheek. The Kabukimono rested your palm against his flesh, nuzzling into it even as he shook in fear. You couldn't help but pity him, the pad of your thumb brushing over his cheekbone as you indulged him.

"You won't leave me, right?" He says quietly, warily, as if he's afraid the storm will hear his weakness and aim straight for his non existent heart.

The smile you give him almost looks sad. But it remains as sweet as it always does nonetheless.

"Never."

"You promise?"

Another crash of thunder has him jump once again, but with your hand against his cheek, he's quick to recover.

"I promise."

He peers at you and sees no trace of malice; no trace of annoyance or deception or betrayal. All he sees is you; your beautiful smile and crinkled eyes, glistening even in the darkest of nights.

The next flash of yellow lightning that illuminates the two of you only proves to show that even against the Electro Archon herself; your light is so much brighter then anything the god could conjure to harm him.

He doesn't jump at the sudden thunder. Instead, he lets out a shaky breath and pulls you forward- bringing your head onto the pillow that you had given him before he buries his head right underneath your chin; pushing himself into your body as if he wished to become one with you.

You can't help but smile at his unintended affection. Your hands move to embrace him; to smooth over his back and run your fingers through his hair.

"It's... bad to break a promise." He mumbled into your chest. "You won't break your promise, right?"

You let out a soft chuckle, tightening your embrace as you let the boy cling to you for life.

"Of course I won't. I love you too much to hurt you like that."

Your words were accentuated with another jolt of thunder. Another flash of yellow. And then a second bolt of lightning- this time, right through the cavity where his heart would have been.

I love you.

The words repeated in his head like a prayer; and he nestled himself deeper into your embrace in an attempt to muffle his thoughts and hide the pink on his cheeks.

The innocent, pure little Kabukimono had heard the words before. Humans who were close, who kissed and slept in beds together would say it to one another. Humans who were bound for life by little bands of metal on their fingers would whisper it to eachother whenever they pleased.

His tongue burned- yearned to repeat the words back to you, but something inside of him refused. Rejected the idea of feeling the intimacy of human love... of the idea that he could be with you just like all the other humans who loved eachother.

That night, when the puppet and his human had fallen asleep, the Kabukimono found himself without a single dream.

IV. Blue

Even when the Kabukimono wasn't under your care for that day, he still hovered near to where you were.

The old woman who was tasked to care for him that day was a vile creature. One who refused to acknowledge the puppet as anything close to human; instead treating him as merely an object, a plaything, something that could do whatever she wanted of him without complaint.

Because the poor Kabukimono didn't know how.

The puppet watched from where he sat by a large bucket. His hands were filthy; red and sore from scrubbing away at the clothing that he was forced to wash by his current caretaker.

He watched as you bid farewell to your fellow villagers; a basket hung off your arm as you walked into the nearby woods.

Oh, how he longed to follow you. To see where you were off to, to accompany you and watch every move you made.

He looked down at the water in the bucket, browned with dirt and dust. Surely, the water flowing through the stream in the forest would be nice and clean, right?

He's quick to set everything aside; emptying the water into the nearby crops like he was instructed, and then following you into the forest.

It was like your presence had merely teased him; he stumbled blindly through the brush hoping that you would be found in this direction. That he could, at the very least, be able to lay his gaze upon you once more and lighten this heavy feeling in his chest.

What the Kabukimono hadn't thought about, though, was just what you may be doing out here in the forest. And what he saw when he finally approached the familiar babbling brook stole his artificial breath away- the feeling all to familiar to that time had first laid eyes upon you.

The water was a beautiful crystal blue; your clothing lay next to the stream, a telltale sign of what he had stumbled across.

You looked divine. Beautiful. The way the water ran by your bare form and dripped so deliciously from your skin had the puppet star-struck. Pink was quick to dust his pale cheeks.

Then, like an all-too-familiar flash of sickeningly-yellow thunder, a thought occurred to him.

He shouldn't be seeing this.

Sudden panic washed over him, a fear he had felt so many times before now baring it's fangs at him once more.

If you caught him, you would leave him too.

He bolted.

The trees rushed by him in a blur of green; sticks cracking beneath his feet as he retraced his path out of the forest. Birds flew and squirrels panicked as he went by them like the roaring wind; and finally he reemerged from the trees to the sight of the village before him.

He felt warm. He couldn't get the image of you out of his head. The picture of you bathing in such beautiful blue waters was ethereal. He felt his chest tighten even further at the memory.

"You damn puppet! Where have you been!?"

The Kabukimono's face paled instantly at the shrill sound.

"You thought you could just go for a stroll through the forest, huh?! You didn't even finish your chores!! And where's my water pail!?"

The voice boomed. It's origin angrily stomping up to him before grabbing his wrist so harshly, he was sure it would have bruised if he were human.

If he were human.

"You damned-... Can't you do anything right!?" The old woman shouted, dragging the shrinking boy along behind her and towards her old, decrepit house.

"I'm sorry-" He tried to speak, tried to make himself heard over the pounding in his ears.

The woman was like a constant flash of thunder; waiting for the perfect moment to strike the puppet where he stood. And this time, it looked like he was all alone in this storm.

The woman tossed open her front door before dragging the Kabukimono inside, harshly slamming the door shut before she turned to him with a wild look in her eye. The puppet looked absolutely pathetic as tears welled in the corners of his violet eyes.

She shouted at him. Cursed at him. Pushed, pulled, hit him in whatever way she felt fit to.

The Kabukimono shut his eyes, and recalled the divine scene he had stumbled across just a little while prior. He pictured you, standing within the crystal blue water of the stream, and he pictured himself standing infront of you. The sky such a rich, pale blue above the two of you as you found comfort in one another's embrace.

"Are you listening to me!?"

The puppet opened his eyes, and all he saw was blue. The world was blue, he was blue, the old woman was blue, and the constant patter of liquid splashing onto wood from his cheek was blue as well.

A sad, soulless, cold blue. The blue of loneliness and pain.

He remembered how beautiful you looked underneath the cherry blossoms that day he first met you. The shade of pale pink that so beautifully complimented the darker pink on his cheeks that day.

He remembered how tightly you held him under the flashes of yellow that threatened to consume him whole. How you told him you loved him- how you promised you would never leave him.

And he remembered the blue of the water running by your hips. The blue of the sky above, the blue of the cotton of your clothing.

The pounding in his ears was overwhelmingly loud.

A blue hand raised itself before him.

Before it could hit it's target, the pounding stopped.

Everything stopped.

V. Red

The world's colours had returned. But they were so much darker then before. As if drenched in thick shadows that clung even to the most well-lit areas.

And it was like the Kabukimono was just seeing the real world for the first time.

The green of the foliage outside had turned from a beautiful bright shade to a deep, forest colour. And even darker still were the greens inside; where moss and mildew grew along the corners of the old house, and the various stains from archons-know-what seemingly having appeared from nowhere now dotting the surroundings with the deepest shade of black.

The puppet had seen black before. But this was different. Darker. And it was like the entire world had been tainted by those stains of black.

Even the deep brown of the rotting wood below almost seemingly started turning black as a dark red seeped into it's pores.

Such a deep shade of red it was. The colour akin to the same that flowed freely from his cheek; although his was so much brighter then the vile woman who stained the floorboards.

No- if he wasn't a human, then she wasn't either. She was merely a creature, a worm- that now lie pathetically limp at his feet.

Her words, despite his attempt to drown them out, had seeped into his head regardless.

You will never be human.

You will never be wanted.

You will never be needed.

Perhaps she had been correct.

After all, she had only been repeating what he had been telling himself already.

But, if she was correct, then what did that make of the words that the other villagers had said? What, pray tell, did that make the humans themselves?

Liars. All of them. Filthy, red-stained liars.

They had never once truly cared about him. Merely tossing him scraps, at best; demanding that he do things for them and barely leaving him to fend for himself.

Barely giving him space in their village, barely caring to try and be 'polite' with him- even when they demanded that he be polite around everyone he interacted with.

At first, he just accepted it. Of course he did. The world was bright, colourful, beautiful- but now, he's seen it for what it truly is. He's seen the suffering, the pain, the lies; the shadows etched into every crevice of this forsaken world.

He knows that they had lied to him when they said they considered him a fellow human.

And you had taught him, the saint that you are, that liars are bad.

Oh, you... how beautiful you are. How wonderful and amazing and kind you are. Out of everyone in this damned, pathetic village, you had been the one to treat him like an equal. To treat him like a human.

To love him like a human.

His chest tightened at the memory of your voice above his head that night; "I love you" falling so effortlessly from your lips as you held him close.

Archons, you loved him. You promised him you would never leave him. And you had never broken your promises before.

You loved him.

Deep purple eyes fell to the human shaped insect on the floor. And a laugh bubbled up from within him.

He did something bad. Terrible. He had made the woman who hurt him stop moving.

But it felt good.

And if it felt so good, then... why stop?

He was already stained a deep, dark black. He could never go back to being as pure as you had seen him. Perhaps, he had always been this way- perhaps that's why his so called 'mother' and her fox-pet had decided to seal away what was rightfully his. The power that she had inlaid within him.

The power that now pounded so freely through him. And it seemed like the only way to silence it was to let it go.

As the puppet exited the house, a trail of red followed behind him. Electro crackled at his fingertips as he walked towards the center of the village, and he revelled in the hushed and desperate whispers of the humans he passed by.

The pounding in his ears- in his head- only grew stronger with each passing second. The crackling electro a disgusting shade of darkened, tainted yellow as it emanated from him.

And like a bolt of thunder that once had scared him so; flashes of yellow now flew through the open air and showed no mercy to the humans he was surrounded by.

Screams filled the air, filled his ears- and all he could do was laugh. Such pathetic insects, all scrambling to seek shelter from his divine wrath. It was chaotic, beautiful, as red stained the ground and painted the houses in it's corruption.

A gentle breeze kissed the cheek that had rapidly healed it's wound. With it, it brought delicate pale pink petals from the sakura trees that were so abundant in this land.

The village fell still. Nothing but the blossoms that danced on the wind dared to move; to catch the eye of the puppet-murderer.

"K-Kabuki...?"

A voice so small called out to him, stirring him from his thoughtless-thoughts.

He turned to you, and it was like your very presence made the surrounding area brighten to how it was before. Suddenly the world was perfect again; bright and happy and welcoming and loving.

Your eyes, so beautiful and vibrant, were wide and tinged with fear. Your hair was still wet- evidence of your bath, but all it served was to remind the puppet of what he had seen. Of the divinity he had been so blessed to witness.

You didn't move as he walked up to you. You couldn't. Shock had it's tight grasp on your body and mind, and you were unable to even speak at the bloody scene around you.

The puppet smiled so sweetly at you. And despite being the same smile as he had always given you, it no longer looked so innocent.

"I love you." He said, voice proud and unwavering.

Your eyes darted to meet his. He looked so...

dark.

"What...?" You couldn't even process what he said.

"You said you loved me that night, and I never said it back. I love you, (Y/N)."

"What-... what did you do..?" Your voice trailed off into a pathetic whisper, and it made the puppet smirk as his hand moved up to cup your cheek- much like how yours had once done for him.

"They were... bad. All of them. They could have hurt you, like they did to me..." The pad of his thumb spread a deep red over your skin as it rubbed your cheek. "But you love me. You promised you would never leave me. And I know you would never hurt me like they did..."

It was like his eyes had become gateways to the abyss itself; dark, devoid of life- of the boy you had once loved. Black stained his beautiful purple irises; tainted the beautiful colour with darkness and something sinister. Just like the blood that now stained your cheek.

The puppet-murderer intently watched your face drain of colour; intently watched as your pupils shrunk into pinpricks- and made note of your body starting to tremble.

He knew the signs of fear- he himself had expressed the same many times before. He knew you were scared. His chest felt like it tightened around a non-existent heart... he didn't want to see you scared. Not of him.

"...They were going to hurt you. I-I heard them. T-They were waiting for you to come back, a-and they would have... I-I couldn't let them do that. I couldn't let them be bad. I-I wanted to protect you..."

You still continued to tremble. It was like you had barely heard the lie he had told- but you didn't push him away when he pulled you into a cold, blood-stained embrace. And that was enough for him.

"I will... protect you. Stay with you. I will... be good for you."

...another lie. He was no longer good- he could never be good again. His soul- his hands- were now permanently stained red... a red that would be drained of colour as soon as you left his side- and he refused to be seen with that vile black ick. He refused to let you go.

It was almost sickening how swiftly he was able to return to how he was just hours ago... innocent, sweet, gentle. Even as the vibrant crimson stained his once-white flesh. Tainted him. Changed him.

As you gazed at him with a slacked-jaw expression, you could see the surrounding area- the massacred village- devoid of colour... of life. As if the puppet-murderer had drained the pinks and purples and blues and reds and it all congregated into a swirling black in the center of his beautiful indigo irises.

Was your beautiful, sweet little puppet-boy always so... heartless?

The way he pressed his lips to yours was robotic. Stiff and almost forced- but you knew that this was just his way of doing things, until he got used to it.

Until he got used to kissing you. Loving you. Tainting you.

A colourless tear cascaded down your cheek, your eyes closed as the puppet continued to kiss you as sweetly and gently as he could.

When he pulled away, he gently took your hands into his own, and looked down to see you trembling in his grasp. He noticed just how pretty your hands were covered in red.

And his violet eyes flicked up to your face, your hair- his red-stained fingers reaching up to pluck a crimson petal from your hair.

The pretty pink looked good on you, he once thought.

But he thinks you look so much better covered in red.

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.

wild bunny

[ scaramouche x child!reader ]

summary: whenever scaramouche looks at the young child that always stood idly beside him, he is reminded of a certain fledgling that he once lost.

notes: had a sudden burst of writing juice because of the scara cutscene that broke my heart, tis my usual platonic shit agenda lesgo | m.list

words: 972 | warnings: a lil rushed because i typed this while at work LHASHAHAHAHA also mentions of dead pipol lmao

"what the fuck."

scaramouche stares in disbelief, jaw slacked and furrowed eyes pointed at the small cocoon of blanket on the couch in his office. your fluff of hair is disheveled, eyes unusually puffy and teary rather than dull. the small trail of sheen on your cheeks confirms his suspicion.

the unfeeling stray he picked out from the wilderness of inazuma is crying.

he had not seen you express a single emotion other than conflict, anger and bloodlust before, so for you to be crying—alone—it's safe to say that the balladeer is undeniably bamboozled.

"what are you wasting tears for, brat?"

maybe he should have been a little softer when approaching children in their… vulnerable state. but honestly speaking, scaramouche doesn't exactly know if that applies to you. children under the wing of the fatui aren't exactly normal—especially, children who can wipe out a whole team of fatus. nonetheless, you are still a young fledgling, exposed to the truth of this world where the gods are cruel and being weak does not equal to survival.

you remind him so much of kunikuzushi.

he grimace at the reflection, a parallel that coaxed him into taking your battered form under his wing—an unbelievable truth, as much as he denies it.

"i lost the bunny."

"the what?"

he crouches in front of the couch, forearms on his knees with an exasperated look on his face, though his feelings are far from the expression plastered on display. he has an inkling about what's upsetting you, now that he looks over you once more.

you and that thing are practically inseparable.

"i lost the bunny you gave me."

and by bunny, you meant the stuffed bunny he gave you a few months after he plucked you from the wild.

the one scaramouche gave because the first time he saw you was when you were blankly staring at the lifeless bunny on the ground. it died from the aftermath of a wild goose chase. a few weeks before he found you, fatuis and random nobushis would turn up dead in the wilderness of inazuma. it infuriated scaramouche. camps upon camps of fatus would be thrown into disarray and their rations are emptied. when he sent his underlings after the perpetrator, they'd fail to come back with good news. worse, they won't come back at all. he'd come upon them sprawled on the dirty ground somewhere else, dead.

so he went after the menace himself.

that's when he found you in the middle of a fatui camp, his underlings basically useless at this point, slumped on the ground and the poor innocent bunny in front of you. it's later then after he apprehended you that he found out that you were protecting the tiny mammal.

you were just a kid trying to survive in a world filled with monsters, strong enough to protect yourself but helpless and clueless when it comes to the life of others.

when his eye caught sight of a ragged stuffed bunny in an abandoned village, he grabbed it on impulse, faltering only when he was about to hand the now clean stuffed bunny that he stitched up himself. despite being confused as fuck, he casually tossed the thing at you, telling you that it's of no use to him and that you should act like a kid more because your indifference is creeping him out.

he prefers you over any kid by the way. don't tell him i told you.

"i'm sorry," his eye twitched, irritated at how you seemed to be so bothered. it's just a random stuffed bunny, nothing great about it. but he supposes that for someone at your age and comprehension, it must've meant something special for you.

and it does, a lot.

"it's just a toy."

"you gave me that bunny."

he sighed audibly, rolling his eyes before pushing himself to full height, arms crossed.

"it's not the only stuffed bunny in the world, idiot."

"it's the one you gave me. i don't want just any stuffed bunny."

now this, caught him off guard.

you seemed to be genuinely sad about losing the bunny, an expression he only saw on the day you first met. the same look on your face when you failed to protect something you deemed precious. if you're directing such sentimentality towards the stuffed bunny, then you must've really loved it.

more so because it came from him.

scaramouche is brought back to centuries past, an image of a different child flashing before his eyes.

he feels his chest tighten, but he dares not linger at the thought.

"look, you little gremlin," scaramouche grumbled, masking this unfamiliar feeling with exasperation and irritation—he dares not display such thing. "we can just get you a new one and it would still come from me. who the hell do you think provides for you, huh? me, no one else."

he sees your eyes brightened in the slightest, now facing him. he can literally imagine an invisible tail wagging with how you seemed to perked up. another unfamiliar sight, but not unwelcomed. if anything, it's going to be what he thinks of for the next few weeks, unbeknownst to him.

"but how about the one i lost?"

"forget it, it's ragged anyway," he gestures you to follow. "move your little feet, we have places to be and things to do."

the sound of your feet trailing behind him is something he would come to love listening to. that and the slight tug on his sleeves where your little hand naturally clutches around.

a week passes, you found a pristine white bunny in your quarters. it looks different from the one you used to have, but the stitches are familiar and the small electro symbol on its torso is one that you will not mistake for a different person's handiwork.

Lotus Eater. Yan Scaramouche x Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Archon Quest Chapter II Act III, yandere themes, some not SFW themes, and unhealthy relationships.  Word count: 1.6k. Note: i just wanted to write simpmouche for a change. 

You’re happy with him.

Not the superficial kind of happiness that’s fleeting as a breeze in the meadow. How you regard him — it seeps into your veins, into the recesses of your soul — and extends beyond feeling itself. The pitter-patter of hearts in the newfound throes of love, while still present, has been taken over by something more meaningful. Something promising. A silent acknowledgment of trust and belonging.

You’re happy with him.

His fingers, so familiar with your body, touch you with a tenderness that doesn’t betray his inner hunger.

He wants to ravish you, yet he always stops just shy of doing so. Behind his eyes lies a chained beast, salivating and desperate to be unleashed so it may devour you in your entirety, leaving no sign that you ever existed. One might ask, what would make a beast more frightening than it already is? To that, you would reply: the beast which holds the key to freedom but has enough forbearance not to use it until the time is right.

You’re happy with him.

Keep reading

Like the old times — Scaramouche .

📏 really light angst , big brother!Scaramouche + little sibling!reader ; platonic

Notes ; reader is 12 while Scaramouche is 15 in here.

⎙﹒Rules | masterlist

Scaramouche felt a piece of crumbled paper got thrown to him — it had been like this for a good one minute and it's starting to annoy him so he decided to pick on of the papers and read it.

‘is your sibling alright? I heard they're in the hospital. -Heizou’ Scaramouche reads the paper and he scoffed when he finally finished reading.He doesn't like it when someone asks about his family.He quickly wrote back for Heizou.

‘Mind your own business.They're definitely alright at the hospital.’ in reality,he isn't even sure if his sibling is really okay or not.But that letter will definitely convinced Heizou they're alright.

The bell soon rings loudly throughout the school and the students immediately pack out their stuffs.Scaramouche on the other hand were also packing his stuffs quickly to visit his sibling — he didn't want to make them wait for too long.

━━━

Scaramouche knocked on the door softly before he opened the door to see his sibling,(name) peacefully sleeping on the hospital bed.The monitor is luckily still beeping normally.He sat on one of the chairs that's provided for visitors and he kept on staring at (name)'s unconscious body.

If only he wasn't that careless and ignorant,things like this will definitely not going to happen — it hurts him to know that he's the reason why (name) is laying on the hospital bed when they should've went to school to study and make more friends.

He's the one who had been treating them so badly to the point where they wanted to run away from him.Now,this shit happened and he couldn't do anything to reverse this incident.

He missed the old times where both of them would always play and study together."Please recover soon..." He whispered with a sad look on his face.He truly do miss his sibling.

Kinda changed the way I designed my posts idk if I'll keep this or change it.Also,I know it's short but I'm not going to stare at my phone screen just to try and figure out what to write lolol

may i ask for scara for B, G, H, Q, T ? :0

(no pressure 🎀)

-🫧anon

ALL THE PRESSURE BESTIE! I ALREADY HAD A COUPLE OF THESE WRITTEN, CAUSE GUESS WHAT?? IM A SIMP!!

Anyways, thanks for the request, bubbles!! I threw in a couple extra (the ones I wrote already) just to thank you (no other reason).

TW: mentions of self harm (very slight, I promise)

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Willing and able, Scaramouche can and has killed for you. Once out of protection and the other time as a warning. Blood on his hands means nothing to him and to him, any human life except for yours, is expendable.

The way you look at him after does make him falter a little, there's a genuine fear in your eyes. It's a visceral look that only those truly afraid of death can show, and thus he did choose not to commit such acts in front of you anymore, but that doesn't mean they don't happen.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

His heart is a closed lock box that will probably never be opened. Vulnerability is a weakness and he refuses to be weak, especially around you, who will use anything to your advantage to get away.

But there are times where his walls will fall. Times when he's not the balladeer, or number six, or even Scaramouche. There are times when he's just a scared, confused puppet.

He's only shed tears in front of you once. I'm the dead of night, his voice was soft. You asked him, not as a captive, but as a person, “why are you doing this to me?” And his response was a single tear, a moment of weakness, a moment where he lost himself.

That tear was wiped away as quickly as it fell and he was back to his usual demeanor, cursing himself for such shortcomings.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

While he hates to admit it, his love is anything but a game. To him, this is blatantly serious, and any attempt to escape is an attack against him personally.

Your escape attempts aren't cute, nor are they funny. He's done all of this for you, yet you don't want it? You don't want him? It's not fun having to drag you back after you try to get away, but the sight of you begging to him on your knees for forgiveness, that was exciting.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The day he took you, was the worst day of your life. The day you met him was the day you ruined your life, but the day he took you was the day your life truly ended.

You still had nightmares about that day, waking up in a cold sweat and having to look at the reason for all your fears. He slept peacefully while your chest heaved and sweat dripped down your face.

The doors to your home, the windows, any place that a person could get in, someone forced their way through. Your house was swarmed with armed Fatui guards,all of them big, strong, and holding weapons. Fighting back was barely an option against Scaramouche, even with a vision, but against all of them together, you knew you stood no chance.

Grabbed and pulled out of your door, you kicked, screamed, begged, and cried. Anything you could think of as they dragged you to a carriage. His carriage. Where he sat waiting for you, a nonchalant look on his face.

If you knew that that'd be the last time you'd seen your home, you would've looked at it harder.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

The only thing that would ever keep you away from Scaramouche is death itself, but even the solace of that is oke that you won't be able to enjoy.

When he takes you, you are his and his alone. He won't allow you to run away or even harm yourself. He views you as something he owns and treasures, hurting it would be hurting something that he loves.

If you do manage to get away, what a smart, but stupid thing you are. There is nowhere he won't find you and nowhere he isn't willing to go to get you back. You'd never be safe for a second, running to the ends of the earth. Life would be constantly looking over your shoulder and lacking trust in anything and everyone. It would make you ask if leaving was even worth it? If what you were doing now, constantly on the run, was even living?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Tears are a sign of weakness, he knows that best. Maybe that's why he takes pity on you when you cry. His harsh exterior can be melted slightly by your little sobs and begging, but that doesn't mean you'll get your way. But even you have noticed that his punishments are a bit softer when you've cried and his touch becomes oh so much gentler.

Slinking away from his touch does cause a pain in his chest though. Knowing that you despise him so much, you don't even want him near you anymore. These are quick ways to get him to calm down slightly, a type of reaction that lightens the blow of his usual attitude.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

You are a smart thing, aren't you? You'll learn eventually. Compliance is his biggest weakness, you doing and acting as you're told actually makes him trust you. It takes time of course, but act right for long enough and suddenly he's less irritable and more complacent with you as well.

The straw that really breaks the camel's back is begging. Scaramouche needs you, he won't say it, but he does, and he wants you to need him too. Say that he's the only one who can do something for you, and suddenly he's practically putty in your hands. Beg sweetly enough and that hard exterior will crumble. All it takes is a saccharine spoken, “Please, my lord."