By The Fractured Altar.

play wrestling — scaramouche.

Occasionally, there are instances in one’s life where regret embeds itself too deep to safely remove. 

Standing here, your back against the literal and proverbial wall, you’re reacquainted with this humbling reality. A reminder of your mortality. What a delicate substance it is, easily extinguishable like a candle to some. 

Violet eyes piercing enough to sever metal regard you, unamused and faintly malicious. You can’t say you didn’t bring this upon yourself. He pins your wrists above you with one hand. His grip is tight yet falls short of being painful. As much as you want to look away, he won’t permit it, so you maintain unflinching eye contact to prevent ruffling him further. 

“Well?” There’s a sardonic lilt to his voice that makes you shiver. “I’m waiting.” 

You part and close your lips in the same breath. Asking him for clarification won’t do you much good, he delights in watching you piece together his dubious intentions. The satisfaction he derives from it is a bit worrisome. Nonetheless, he offers you one saving grace he’d extend to no one else — patience.

What led up to this unfortunate development? Ah, yes, you saw fit to poke a slumbering beast with a stick. Scaramouche had been too preoccupied to entertain your whims. So, you being the genius that you are, offhandedly remarked that if he didn’t want to wrestle around with you, Tartaglia would certainly be up for it. 

No sooner had his junior Harbinger’s name left your lips did you find yourself pinned against a wall. 

He sighs, long and drawn out, as if you’re the source of all his woes. 

“You’re the one who proposed this insipid game, the least you can do is see it through.” 

One of the best boons from being in Scaramouche’s orbit is how many insults he adds to your vocabulary. His lexicon is vast and impressive. 

Now that you understand what he’s getting at, you push back against your restraints, gauging how effective this method would be. He doesn’t cede any ground. His lithe body belies the immense strength he can wield. He restricts your writhing without overexerting himself in the slightest. Realizing a battle of physical prowess won’t end in your favor, you employ a new tactic. 

The corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile at him softly. 

“Kuni,” you speak the nickname he weakly claims to abhor, “Won’t you go easy on me?” 

The tips of the Harbinger’s ears turn red. He scoffs, turning his head to hide how effortlessly you fluster him. “Of course not. If I always indulged you, you’d become more insufferable than you already are.” 

“That’s rude.” 

“The truth often is.” 

While he’s preoccupied with your exchange, you twist your body, placing your best on the element of surprise. He’d need to quickly readjust the angle at which he’s holding your wrist to stop you. For half a second, you think you have him beat, but he leans in, using his torso to block your escape. A wicked grin spreads on his face at your little underhanded tactic. 

You swallow thickly. 

“Awe, don’t look so defeated! The effort was there,” he snickers. “Maybe next time?” 

“Don’t you have things to do? It’s not like you can hold me here all day, right?” 

He stares at you blankly. 

“... Right?” You repeat, chuckling weakly. 

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m starting to see the appeal to this game of yours. Let’s play a while longer.” 

Excuse me for saying so, but I did not think you would be the one take care of me in my illness Lord Scaramouche. Thank you, I am sincerely grateful.

tw: forced marriage, yandere, sickness

"You had better be," he says, not missing a beat. "Do you not think I have more important things to do?"

Despite the impatience in his voice, he stirs the rice porridge slowly, holding the filled spoon to your lips until you open obediently, taking in another bite of the physician-ordered bland mixture that had been the staple of your diet for the past few days.

You didn't expect to see him at all when you'd taken ill, when your mild headache had bloomed into an aching head, burning fever, and dizziness that you couldn't shake.

You certainly didn't expect him to shoo the attendants from the room as soon as he'd been told about your incident, having been found helplessly emptying the contents of your stomach in a hall, unable to even make it to the bath chamber.

Nor did you expect him to stroll up to the bed where you had sat, feeling your forehead for himself--hot, clammy--before ordering you to change into a night dress so that a physician could examine you.

And, of all things, you definitely didn't expect him to be at the forefront of your recovery.

Had he ever touched you this gently, with his hands pressing a cold cloth into your feverish skin?

Had he ever spoken so softly, asking you about your symptoms, which you were sometimes only able to half-answer in your continued weakness?

Yet now as you began to feel more yourself, you felt cognizant of his presence in a way that brushed aside the helplessness of illness--in a way that reminded you of your place.

And so you nod demurely to his words, acknowledging his sacrifices in the name of your health.

He stands, then, idly tucking in your blanket after leaving the tray with your porridge and your water by the bedside.

His eyes glance at the bowl, which is still warm. Now that you're sitting up, coherent, no longer mumbling in your fever-dreams, his voice has regained the dominant edge you've come to understand since you were pushed into marriage.

"I expect you to eat all of it. And do keep it down this time, will you?"

Hey, can I request Aventurine and Sunday with Yaoyao! reader?

It will be cute to see two older mans being take care by the small child with adult soul. 🥺❤️

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʏᴀᴏʏᴀᴏ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

pairings - sunday & yaoyao! reader / aventurine & yaoyao! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/not a lot of angst/mainly fluff/sibling or family dynamics

warnings - none, except the yaoyao part might be ooc (apologies!)

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ Sunday, after dealing with an issue at the reception, would be wandering the area to survey if there would be any more troublesome occurrences

↻ His first meeting with you would be him spotting you attending to a distressed Misha, who fell over with his bell cart and had sustained forming bruises on his knees

↺ He watched on curiously as you used a cold water bottle to reduce the swelling, giving the boy a small scolding and advising him to follow a list of remedies you wrote on a piece of paper

↺ Sunday would make his way over shortly after, helping the bellboy up and letting him take the day off to treat his injuries (he notified a medic to assist him)

↻ Sunday who was caught off guard by your seemingly young age, would ask if you had come with your parents to which you would give a shake of your head to

↺ He’s concerned about the fact you are alone in a bustling place such as Penacony, he had ensured that the place is safe for all individuals but why would a kid be there in the first place..?

↻ He would have a small walk and talk with you, showing you around the lobby and listing what Penacony has to offer as you seemed clueless about the place

↺ At one point he thought he had lost you, turning around to see that you had disappeared, giving him a mini heart attack

↺ Turns out, you were talking to the origami birds and showing them the little friend that you had brought along with you (Yuegui ˆˆ)

↻ When the small tour concluded, the two of you waved goodbye and went on your separate ways (Sunday made sure that you got to your room safely, watching you roam around and chat with other guests)

↻ Sunday didn’t know if he’d see you again in the dreamscapes, but he prayed for your safety during your stay at Penacony

↻ … He ends up finding you tending to the Trailblazer who had made their appearance in Golden Hour

↺ After helping the Trailblazer regain their bearings, Sunday would introduce you to his sister and the Trailblazer 

↻ From there on out, he’d start seeing you around more (usually helping people with anything concerning them)

↺ Whether it’s offering dishes or varying teas, you always had something on hand to offer if someone was feeling unwell (both mentally and physically)

↻ Whenever you bumped into Sunday, you two always engaged in a conversation

↺ The topics would range from how was each other’s day to debates about the best locations in the dreamscape

↺ From here, the two of you learned a lot about each other and basically adopted a father-daughter/older sibling-younger sibling relationship (although, he felt like the younger one here…)

↻ If you spotted Sunday feeling unwell or stressed, you’d scold him for continuing to work in such conditions, sitting him down and offering anything that could help his condition

↻ You’d recommend treatment options whenever he came to you about a certain health concern he had, providing him lots of information so that he was educated about the issue

↻ You would bring Sunday a treat, maybe one of his favorites in Penacony or from distant worlds, to help him cheer up or feel better

↻ It was weird at first, but Sunday had grown accustomed to your doting self and was really appreciative that you took the time to help him with his troubles

↺ He never really liked relying on anyone, but you always reassured him (he felt like he learned a lot from you)

------

“Sunday…” “Hm? Yes, _____?” “Are you feeling alright? You look like you haven’t been getting rest…”

Seeing the formation of dark circles around his eyes gave you a pang of worry, fearing that he was overworking himself to the point of exhaustion. But through it all, Sunday still gave you a smile.

“I’ll be alright, _____.” “Not if you get enough rest and take some time to relax. Doctor’s orders!”

------

↻ sigh This man would be such a hassle for you

↻ You found Aventurine sitting on a bench in Golden Hour, seemingly contemplating something but looking a bit distressed

↺ When you walked up to him, his demeanor took a sudden turn, a friendly smile greeting you (however, they never met his eyes)

↺ But you knew better, despite being told that you would be too young to understand, you knew that this was a front the man decided to put up (yet you never wanted to overstep your boundaries)

↻ You stayed to keep him company, telling each other stories that the both of you have encountered before coming to Penacony 

↺ You inquired about his eyes and how pretty they were, learning a little bit about his Sigonian background but never delving too deep

↻ From the day that the two of you had first met, a friendship had been established (Aventurine didn’t really take it seriously at first but he warmed up a bit to you)

↻ Aventurine wasn’t used to your friendly personality; if he had one word to describe you it would be warm

↺ Warm like the tea you brought him, the dishes you had made, the comfort you provided.. It all felt so foreign to him but it comforted him so deeply

↻ He’d treat you like a kid/little sibling, teasing and joking about you which you always pouted at (scolding him for being so mean)

↺ If his teasing was enough to make you upset and tear up, he’d quickly apologize and offer to treat you to one of your favorite dining spots 

↻ Despite treating you like a kid, there were times that he felt like he was a child with how you scolded him for being so reckless, sitting him down and telling him to take a step back

↺ If he was injured, you’d help patch up his injuries and advise him a list of self-treatment options, if he was stressed or feeling upset, you’d be there to talk to and offer some calming tea

↻ As a way to cheer him up or help him loosen up a bit, you’d bring out Yuegui and set them down on Aventurine’s lap

↺ Initially, he was confused and almost wanted to laugh, in fact, he did, but it made him feel a bit better 

↺ He’d inspect the little guy inquisitively, asking you about their origin and what world you found them on

↻ Aventurine would show you around Penacony (golden hour), introducing you to some of his personal favorite spots

↺ You found some of them a little concerning, but whatever makes him happy…

↻ He’d show you around the casino, the loud and chaotic atmosphere of it almost overwhelmed you but you kept your cool, finding interest in the slots and different things they had to offer (not really a child-friendly atmosphere however…)

↻ With your introduction to the casino, you’d get to see how bad Aventurine’s gambling addiction was

↺ It really worried you how he was so willing to gamble everything away, how easy it was for him to just discard everything

↺ That fact made you feel a bit upset, almost wanting to run out and find comfort in other things

↺ But you stayed for Aventurine’s sake, just in case he got into any trouble 

↻ When the two of you finally leave the casino, you hesitate to tell Aventurine about your feelings and concerns, the air rising a bit in tension as he is confused about your sudden change in attitude

↺ After some time walking, you tell him what has been bothering you and he sits you down on a bench, bending down to your level with a sigh

↺ Aventurine couldn’t make any promises to you, but he’d try, for your sake, to stay safe while doing something dangerous (whether he’s on business, he’s gambling, etc…)

------

“Now that you are feeling better… How about we go get some of your favorite stir fry, hm?” Aventurine smiled, getting up from his bent position and dusting himself off. “My treat.”

Slightly sniffling, you rubbed your nose and got up from the bench. Looking up at him with your own smile and warm eyes, you nodded your head. 

“That sounds delicious, let’s go!”

------

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - as promised ˆˆ

To scaramouche: Since I'm just a kind of doll to you why don't I sleep on the shelf? Oh... sorry! I completely forgot you can't reach there ^^

"..."

His eye twitches. To say that you were on thin ice around Scaramouche was an understatement; you’d sooner brave traversing a frozen lake than dealing with your volatile captor. The wooden floorboards groan in protest of his rapid approach. Scaramouche stalks toward you, his lips pulled into a grimace, and his posture rigid. 

He grabs your collar and pulls you down. “Dolls are supposed to sit there and look pretty, in silence. The grating sound of your voice ruins the effect beyond repair.” 

In for a penny, as they say. 

“So you find me pretty?” You inquire, paying little mind to how his nostrils flare in exasperation with your unruliness. There’s little he can do to make your life more miserable than it already is. While you have enough wits about you to not send him on a rampage, that doesn’t mean you won’t test the boundaries. You’d twirl your hair to add insult to injury if your arms would stop shaking. 

“Why else would I tolerate your deplorable personality?” 

It’s not like he has much room to be talking. The Fatui agents assigned to watch over you shrink away in silent confirmation, knowing full well what hell awaits them if the Harbinger decides to unleash his boiling rage. They’re collateral damage just waiting to happen. Underneath their masks, you’d wager they’re sending you pleading looks, begging you to stop while you were ahead. 

The dark aura oozing off of Scaramouche is enough to deter you from trying your luck again. 

“I swear,” his fist tightens around the fabric of your outfit. “I’ve never met someone so incapable of using their head. Try giving it a shot, will you?” 

You want nothing more than to roll your eyes at his petty insults. 

Scaramouche releases you and brushes his hands against his shorts. “That wasn’t a suggestion, I’ve had just about enough of that tongue of yours. This is the only warning I’ll give.” 

Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

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

Word Count: 2524

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

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

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

Keep reading

"kunikuzushi, if I asked you to kill someone for me, would you do it?"

warnings: offscreen murder, light gore, yandere ish but not really imo, reader is implied to be a kitsune (reader is gender neutral)

@edenialucas, @huboi, @nejibot, @lovediluc, @yumixxn, @teallapril, @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun

“What?”

“You’ve ended lives for my sake before,” you say, not lifting your head up, hands focused on stitching the garment on your lap. “would you do it for me again?”

The balladeer puts his quill aside, a smirk on his lips as indigo eyes centre on you. “For my stoic fox to go so far as to demand for this person gone, they must have committed a major transgression against you.”

You made a sound akin to an aggrieved hum, pulling particularly hard on the thread before stabbing it into the fabric. It’s true; one of the things you share with Kunikuzushi is your hatred for humanity. Unlike the harbinger who pours all of his hatred to his lackeys, forcing them to endure the brunt of his cruelty, you’ve always preferred to keep yourself hidden from others. The lesser you have to interact with those phoney people, the better it is for your wellbeing.

There are times when you have no choice in the matter, and you’re reminded of why you despise being around others so much. Normally, you’ll silently wish for them to disappear, praying to nobody for the second you’re able to return to your room. But in this instance, they’ve accidentally ignited your ire: cold and seething and you’re unsatisfied with anything less than hearing news of that person’s dead body strewn atop a bloody icicle on a cliff somewhere deep within the Snezhnayan mountains.

“Won’t you tell me what this person did to offend you?”

“What if I said no?”

“Then I won’t press.”

“...I’m done.” You cut the thread before lifting the shirt up to inspect for any more loose seams or tears. “I’ll hang it up for you to wear tomorrow.”

You fold the shirt on your lap, standing up before pausing. “Kuni, would you do it for me again? For my sake?”

The balladeer regards you with an unrecognisable expression on his face. “How would you like it to be done?”

“Painful and slow,” you say without missing a beat. “I don’t want to witness it. You can tell me how it went.”

Kunikuzushi could only laugh at such a macabre response, nearly to tears before he recollects himself. “I need a name, you know.”

Your steps echoes throughout his office as you walk towards him, bending down to whisper in his ear before leaving a quick peck on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

—

“(Name), come here.” 

You sit on his lap, snaking your arms around his neck as you nuzzle against him. The harbinger’s voice is gentle as he hums an Inazuman lullaby; one that he usually catches you singing to yourself when you’re alone. He finishes his tune, smiling to himself as he smoothes his palm up and down your back.

“He’s dead.”

You nod. Ah, now that you think about it, that iron scent is especially pungent today.

“I handed him to Dottore. Or whatever was left of him. I don’t even know if his brain is still intact after what I did to him.”

You mutter something intelligible before planting a string of kisses from his collarbone to his jaw. As he strokes your tails — swishing slowly from side to side — he hears a whispered “thank you” and an “I love you” next to his ear, coupled with a quiet purring noise, and he knows that you’ll be sleeping well tonight.

Scaramouche with a Child!Sibling!Reader

You paint your big brother's nails.

Strictly platonic. Fem reader. Spoilers for Scara's real name. Nail salon vocabulary has links for examples.

Even though you're the younger sister of the big bad Scaramouche, you were pretty timid and quiet.

You cared for your big brother, you wanted the absolute best for him. He cared for you, and took you along with him to find a home in the fatui.

Unlike your brother, you didn't get any special training. You never became a fatui harbinger. Kunikuzushi changed, but not around you.

He holds you dear to him, his precious baby sister. Scaramouche tries so hard to shelter you from this stupid evil world.

Even though you're around 10–13, you paint nails without any flaws. People would see you with different, beautiful, exotic, creative nails, basically changing every week.

You decided to own a small business in Inazuma to earn Mora, even though you don't need any because of your brother's work (And considering your young age).

When Scaramouche obtained the Inazuma archon's gnosis, he fled to your nail shop to tell you that he doesn't have much time to stay.

You heard the door to your nail salon open. "Ah... we're closed—" You looked up from your last customer's hand, which you were still holding. There stood your big brother.

You smiled. "Just a few minutes, I'm almost done," You reassured him, and continued working. Scaramouche looked at you with soft eyes, then glared at the customer, making sure they know how much he hates them for taking up your time.

Scaramouche sat down on the sofa.

When you finished, your customer handed you the Mora and took off. You sat down next to your big brother.

"What happened today?" You almost whispered, looking up at him. Your big brother rest his arm behind you on the couch casually. "I've obtained the gnosis."

...Huh? Your brother has the gnosis belonging to your creator? "We don't have much time. We better go soon, around midnight." He stared at the clock in the room. 9:32 pm.

You looked down at his hand resting on his lap. You wanted to do something before escaping Inazuma, anything memorable... Oh.

You took your big brother's hand, the one that was behind you on the couch, holding it with both of your hands. You spread his fingers out, observing his nails. You looked up at him innocently.

"Can I paint them..?" You brushed one of your thumbs over his hand, gently.

If you were just some random Inazuman merchant, Scaramouche would've snapped you're neck his hand away from your grasp. But, you're his baby sister. He can't resist you. Plus, you're acting so adorable right now.

"Fine. Don't take too long."

You led him to sit on the chair infront of the table, where you work.

The scent of nail polish engulfed him. Scaramouche has long since associated this smell with you. Whenever he smells this, he thinks that you, his little sister, is around. It's pretty wholesome, if you ask me.

You gathered your supplies and sat down, taking your big brother's hand. Your hands were so small compared to his.

Starting off with the emery board, you were careful to be gentle and not hurt him. Scaramouche rests his whole hand, to make it easier for you.

Scaramouche decided to take a look at your supplies set on the table. He spotted the essentials, more complicated tools, nail polish, accessories.

He then looks at you. "You know what style you want for me?" He asks you, resting his head on his free hand. "Mhmm, it's a surprise— Well. I guess it can't be a surprise, but I'm not telling you," You answer, gesturing to switch his hands.

Your big brother places his hand in your smaller ones. "I see feminine accessories. Kind of scared what you might do," He half–joked.

"Hmhm, well you should always worry when I paint nails. Especially yours." Scaramouche let out a little 'Hah' in response.

Scaramouche thinks you carefully holding each finger in place, bringing them up to your face so you could see clearly, and holding his hand was just too adorable.

He trusts you completely, to the point where Scaramouche tries not to look at his hands, so it can stay a surprise.

Then you pluck out some accessories from your little kit... Along with the glue.

You carefully place a couple on his nails. After that, you gave a little blow on his nails and placed them inside your nail polish dryer.

It burnt for a second, but Scaramouche got used to it. While waiting for his nails to dry, you stood up to set your supplies away.

Scaramouche looked at the time. 10:56 pm. One more hour until you two have to go.

You sat back down infront of him and gestured for one of his hands. After checking that they were dry, you told your big brother that they're done.

Now, you've painted your big brother's nails a thousand times before. But only when you were just starting out, though. You stopped painting his nails to start your small business.

Scaramouche hasn't seen any of your progress recently, he doesn't even really pay attention to your own nails. But when he pulled both hands back to look at his nails... Kunikuzushi went silent.

They were so pretty. His nails looked like they were taken care of by the most advanced manicure in Teyvat. His jaw dropped a bit as he stared at his hands. Since when have you improved this much?

...Scaramouche feels guilty. He was barely around to witness all of his little sister's progress. He realizes just how little time he spends with you. He doesn't notice his eyes water, until you wrap your little arms around his shoulders, tucking his head towards your chest.

"I'm so proud of you, big brother." You wanted Scaramouche to know how much you adore him, how brave he is, how strong and fearful he is in and out of his work with the fatui.

But... Why were you proud of him? Scaramouche didn't do anything to earn your respect. At least, that's what he thinks. Kunikuzushi should've been with you every step of the way. Why did he notice his mistake just now?

Kunikuzushi gently returns your hug. His tears finally fall when you start petting his head gently. Archons, what did he do to deserve a younger sister as sweet and caring as you?

He won't make this mistake again. Scaramouche will take care of you, take on his role as your big brother, without relying on the fatui.

each version of yan scaramouche throughout the years is ridiculously clinging in their own strange way. 

as kabukimono, the others at tatarasuna often joke that he follows you around like a duckling. there are practically stars in his eyes whenever you’re so much as mentioned, he’s absolutely smitten. his way of getting closer to you — and staying there — had a rather innocent origin. he just so happened to notice that you dote on him even more whenever he makes a mistake or seems to be struggling with ‘simple’ human tasks. at first, he really was having difficulty with things such as getting dressed and brushing his hair, but over time, he learned to conceal his progress so you would take the time to help him. 

the unknown feeling that blossomed in his chest whenever your fingers brushed or he was close enough to smell the incense on your clothes was divine. he’d come up with any excuse to remain by your side, leaning into his harmless image a little too much, albeit subconsciously. after all, you may not have been so willing to allow a man in your bed just because he claimed his nightmares were making it difficult for him to sleep… but because you think he’s so sweet and lacking any ulterior motive, you don’t even bat an eyelash, gladly opening up the futon for him to lay beside you. he just can’t help himself. there’s nowhere he’d rather be than with you. 

as scaramouche, he has a simple and ineffective formula. keep the doors locked + be the only person you can have verbal interaction with = profit? (there is no profit to be had). you’re so sick of him but he’s there anyway. what makes matters worse is his audacity to act like he’s doing you a favor, spending a few hours of his busy day entertaining someone such as yourself. he says it that way too. word for word. with his nose in the air. you really can’t stand him. this method is what he prefers to utilize by far. sure, there might be some sour feelings on your side, yet it eliminates the risk of you leaving him altogether. he can withstand anything — your glares, the frequent cold shoulder treatment you give him — because it means you’re still there. 

for a person who comes off as greedy as he does, he’s surprisingly content with very little. the slivers of mostly negative attention you give are enough to sustain him, the same way a cactus can survive on very little water. if the balladeer had it his way, he’d always be in your vicinity, but unfortunately, he has constant work as a harbinger. which is why he leaves reminders of his existence on and around you to compensate for his absence. even if he can’t physically be with you, the lingering touches you feel and the marks you see make him impossible to forget. 

as the wanderer, he’s essentially jobless, allowing him twenty-four hours in the day to stick by your side. to make matters worse, the dendro archon herself came to you to ask for your cooperation. lesser lord kusanali has seen how taken with you he is, and after some observation, decides you’d be a good influence on the ‘reformed’ wanderer. lucky you. instead of following you around like a cute duckling, he’s more of a feral stray cat. you’ll ask him if he has anything better to do and he’ll shrug and say not really. trying to throw him off your trail is impossible as well, his ability to track you down is uncanny. he claims that he has a sixth sense for ‘sensing idiots’ every time he catches you. 

in his humble opinion, there’s just nothing more thrilling than seeing every side of you there is to see. he doesn’t want to miss a second. if he isn’t in the mood to chase after you and you try to run away, you’ll end up facing a gust strong enough to knock you off your feet. should he be in a good mood, he’ll catch you. if he isn’t, however… he’ll let you fall over and snicker over your misfortune. his antics to keep you close are mostly bearable, since he doesn’t freeload and offers a decent amount of help in your journeys, whether it be fighting off hoards of monsters or cooking meals. it becomes far more sinister if anyone tries to intrude on what he perceives to be your special relationship, though. 

Sing for me, little Nightingale (Yan! Scaramouche x Reader)

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56024689

Felines are deserving of their accolades. Merit embodies their nimble spines and ductile limbs; bodies like pliable sand, threading their way through knots, twists, cavities and labyrinths. The prince of the hunt flexes and swipes his talons and his prey are swift to falter, their necks wringed and their spines contorted in ways that are unnatural to their physicality.

“I’ve got you now.”

At times, though, even a cat doesn't remain undefeated.

“How stupid are you to think that a cheap disguise would work against me?” He almost sounds amused, his words an arctic hiss against your ear. Reaching up, Scaramouche claws at the thick cloak that veils your face and tears it to your shoulders. Your hair is quick to mime the departed elements, hanging in disarray across your face. A mantilla of unkempt tresses, veiling whatever thoughts sketch your visage.

The Balladeer regards the sight of your person with a sort of contemptuous delight. Forcefully knelt at his feet with your wrists bound behind you and your head drooped in defeat—or in pensiveness. It's a shame Zapolyarny is so devoid of windows. What light finds it's way into these all-too familiar stone chambers is too sparse to see what expression you're making.

“Well? Say something. Or have I rendered you incapable of speech?”

Tentatively—begrudgingly—you tip your head back, back, back until your irises lock with the hypnotic indigo tinctures belonging to the predator who leers dauntingly above you. Locks of such a hue that only you could wear part like the red sea, revealing a thin, perhaps solemn, ambiguous smile—the last expression the harbinger could anticipate. Or desire.

“Thwarted again, hm?” You chuckle and it sounds like frost, “and I even took extensive measures to conceal my tracks. No good?”

“Failures are bound to repeat themselves.” Scaramouche doesn't nuisance himself with that syrupy facade he wears to rope his targets right between his molars. Malice is a noisome stench in the air as he adds, “This is the seventh time I’ve had to retrieve you. I'd figure you’d have learned your lesson by now, but time after time you insist on making yourself a burden to fetch.”

“There's no harm in trying, is there?” You maintain that strange curve on your plush lips. It’s difficult to tell what you're thinking, or feeling.

“‘No harm’, yet you delude yourself into believing that a time would come when you could successfully evade me. I wonder how long it’ll take until those dreams of yours crumble and die.”

“You know, there’s a word for what you are,” you state after a thoughtful pause. “I think it’s called: overbearing.”

What a strange girl with a strange smile. Normally, Scaramouche would meet such defiance by smiting his poor victim to dust within the blink of an eye. In your displays of resolve, though, the invincible harbinger finds himself crouching to your level, trailing a slender hand against your windpipe. How easily he could squeeze the life from your throat until you begs for reprieve; choke you of your indignation. Instead, he allows it to linger there without purpose, applying no pressure, grasping nothing.

“And there’s a word for what you are.” He nearly whispers. Difficult. Stubborn. Irrevocably his. “Irrational, when I only want what’s best for you. And what’s best for you, is to offer me your complete submission.”

“Even though I’d sooner offer my life than yield to you?” A new tone makes itself heard in your cadence. Such words, such simple, few words, reveal what lingers beneath your otherwise indifferent facade.

Sagacious. Provocative. Challenging.

Of course, you're testing the boundaries of Scaramouche's resolve, as he does with yours. Suddenly, the atmosphere is taut and palpable with tension for what may become of the future.

Sly, sly little songbird.

Something most unanticipated happens, and you reveal your hands, which you freed from their binds. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise Scaramouche, what with your prowess in the art of escape, but regardless your smile stretches in the presence of the astonishment that lifts his eyebrows and makes his eyes flash white, if only briefly. You take your time observing such a paltry display of rare, raw, emotion, how it shapes the contours of his features at the command of your actions. And gently, you take his hand that graces your throat and tenderly place it on your cheek.

"Ah... You've always been this way, haven't you, Kunikuzushi? Since the very day fate first connected your eyes to mine? " You slant your head into his cold hand with all the fragility of a shedding lotus petal descending into a reservoir, resting your cheek against his cold, liquid touch. Although, the action is far from affectionate. Rather, it's reminiscent of a sort of obstinacy, wearing the facade of love.

"You pine for my heart like you're starved for my flesh.” You take his hand and pass it through your cloak, poising it on your chest, right above your pumping heart.

"But... Perhaps I have no heart to offer you. What then? What will you do when you realize, there is no flesh to pick from my bones? No heart beneath my ribs?"

Scaramouche trudges through your words, running them across his mind. No plausible answer makes itself seen. He relinquishes his hand from your chest.

A cat may not have wings, but it is unrelenting.

“If you have no heart…” He murmurs, before smiling a bitter smile, “Then I’ll make you learn how to love.” how to love him. “I’ll create a heart in the shape of my love, and then I’ll take it. By force if I must.”

"You're willing to create something, just to seize and destroy it..." His words taste like blood upon your tongue. Strange. Carrying pleasantry and uncanniness in a sordid congruence. your lips falter from their smile.

"What a rotten soul you have... When will you realize that your avarice will be your demise?"

A wry, perhaps relenting chuckle emerges from your throat. Then you sigh.

"Perhaps we were made for each other." “

Then why do you run from me? Why do you fight, when you’re meant to be mine?” He asks, vehement, pertinacious.

"But that is where you're mistaken, Scaramouche. You see—” You direct your pointer finger to his chest, resting it in the junction between his collarbones.

“—You're tenacious in pursuing me. But I'm," You points at herself, "Tenacious in avoiding you. We are made for each other like the same ends of two magnets. The same, yet destined to be apart."

There it is, another one of your challenging remarks. The chirping nightingale wriggles free and unfurls it's wings, just as the cat thinks the bird is trapped beneath its paws. And oh, how infuriating, how exhilarating you are. Hatred is a simmering tempest that ignites the harbinger's temper. He despises how affixed he is to you, to the thought of trapping you beneath his claws, only for you to fly free and rejoice your liberation in song. It's petty. It's pathetic. It's irresistible. The Balladeer scoffs.

“Is this all just a game of push and pull to you? Just how long are you willing to avoid me?”

 “How long are you willing to pursue me?”

“Until you submit to me.”

“Then, until you set me free.”

Scaramouche can only watch as you put on your hideous, inhuman, anomalistic smile. Fine, then. If nothing else, he’ll build you a gilded cage to lure you into a golden prison disguised as a paradise. He’ll rip your wings from your body, flesh and bone marrow hanging in loose tendrils, so to erase all notions of flying free from your unreadable mind that he tends to make his possession, until you’re bleeding so sweetly beneath his claws. His beautiful songbird, who sings in the shape of his love.

Because you were made for him. He, the heartless one, who wishes for a heart. For your heart, which you are't willing to offer. Which you wish you never had.

You’re the only one to believe he still has a soul. That he ever had one, rotten as it may be.

Scaramouche cannot let that go. Regardless of how many times you flee from his talons, he will find you and chase you to the very ends of this earth.

Fly away, little singing nightingale.

Hello! I wanted to say i absolutely LOVE your writing about the Fatui, but i was wondering how the Fatui would be with a (def crazy) younger sibling around 10-11 years old possibly??

By crazy they could be participating into the same activities as their older siblings but stay away from the most bloody stuff bc they aren't allowed to bc of their sibling (we love an overprotective fictional older sibling❤️).

Idk why wanna see the younger sibling being so cute to all of the Harbingers and loyal to their empress but at the same time not hesitating to send an order to kill someone.

ALSO WHAT ABOUT TIME REVERSING MAGIC?? LIKEEEE IT SOUNDS FUN BUT YOU DECIDE ❤️❤️❤️

ilysm pls take care😭❤️

♡ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

synopsis: Due to your craziness, you had trouble fitting in with most kids your age. Not to worry, you have your Harbinger family to take care of you now!

includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader

notes: Thank you, you're so sweet! I really love the idea of the Harbingers having this instinct to protect their mischievous, always getting into crazy trouble little sibling.

The first time the Harbingers heard of you was when they found out a whole camp of Fatui members was wiped out. Not by the Traveler, or an opposing military force, but by a child. Not even a teenager, but a little kid. Apparently, you had gotten caught stealing food from the camp and beat everyone up so you wouldn’t get arrested. What was more surprising was that this wasn't the first time you looted a camp. You had poor sneaking skills but you always dispatched the soldiers quickly before anyone got there. Besides the fact that they had to do something about this, the Harbingers were actually quite interested in you. It wasn’t every day you came across a child so much stronger than a group of soldiers.

It wasn’t hard to find out where you’d raid next, and a group of them lay in wait for your arrival. Soon enough, there you were apprehended by one of them, and you could hear them speaking about taking you back somewhere, and other big words you didn’t understand. The person wasn’t applying too much pressure on you. Well, they’d be wrong to underestimate you! You were the strongest kid in Snezhnaya!

You wiggled your arm up forward, but they didn’t pay much attention to you. In your hand, you gripped a small rock and eyed the explosive barrels near you. You think one of them noticed, but it was too late. With a sharp flick, it dove smack into the red barrel, and debris and mess went flying everywhere. The person holding you down had to release a bit to take cover from the explosion and you immediately bolted from there.

You had to be completely crazy to pull a stunt like that. You could have gotten injured - or worse!

You were giddy with excitement and adrenaline after that. You kind of gathered that you were quite different from other kids, but oh well. You made it as far as you could, but your legs were too short for you to run anywhere quickly. So your little plan was ruined when you promptly ran smack into an iron wall. That iron wall was the tallest man you’ve ever seen, and it hurt your neck to look up that high.

The next thing you knew, you woke up in the fluffiest bed ever, surrounded by pillows and cute plushies.

Pierro:

Admires your dedication to the Tsaritsa and all the Harbingers, but is stern in his decision to keep you away from the gory stuff. Proper soldiers must be level head and calm, Pierro says, which you are not. To keep you at bay, he lets you partake in some Fatui duties that don’t involve the cruelty aspect. (Introduces you to paperwork, I guess…) He’s not really sure how to deal with you… he’s used to the utmost respect everyone else gives him due to his status. But you? There are no rules in your world and you hang off his shoulder and fiddle with his mask. Also, the one who has to explain to you that no, you cannot go and try to kill someone for annoying you. When you try to act cute to try and get things to go your way, he thinks it’s endearing but it’s not working on Pierro!

Capitano:

Concerned for you, to be honest. Yes, you may be strong, but throwing yourself headfirst into these dangerous situations? You’re still so small, fragile, tiny… there are too many things that could go wrong. Every time you do even attempt something crazy, he is there, at your side, preventing it. Takes the role of your silent protector a lot more seriously than normal, simply because he doesn’t want you to get hurt because of your antics. Out of everyone he forbids you from engaging in any bloody activity the most. He wants you to do some normal kid stuff, but unfortunately, he himself has problems knowing what exactly that entails. Sits at his desk awkwardly while he watches you bounce off the walls.

Capitano thinks it’s cute when you come up with all these conspiracy theories about what’s under his helmet. At one point he started writing down everything you guessed and now a lot of pages have been filled up. He looks at it whenever he needs something to boost his mood. Is initially reluctant to fulfill your request of “throwing you up into the air and catching you” but he does it quite often because of how much you laugh. And it keeps you from going and fighting random people, at least.

Columbina:

She likes you a lot! Columbina is kinda crazy too, so you two get along like two peas in a pod. Only thing is she wants you to be able to relax too. Whenever you want to go out on some bloody mission, she’ll just hold you hostage (in a friendly way) and fall asleep with you kinda trapped there so you just fall asleep too. I don’t know why, but I think Columbina likes to sing a song about death when she’s killing someone. You unfortunately pick up on this.

Columbina’s the kind of person to cover your eyes whenever something non-child-friendly is happening. Also adores whenever you have your cute moments. I feel like she helps you choose your outfit when you declare that you’ll be a Harbinger one day too. She jumps on this opportunity to dress you up in pretty clothes. I feel like she can also switch from happy to deadly quickly so she can understand how you are.

Dottore:

Oh no… The Harbingers endeavor to keep the two of you apart to the best of their ability because you’re both just menaces. Dottore loves your craziness, he probably even encourages it sometimes to see how far you’ll go. You start adopting your own maniacal laugh like Dottore and he is so proud. If you’re willing, he’ll start going on about these crazy science topics and theories and you’re like - I’m just a kid… a crazy one, but still a kid who can’t comprehend all that… Also finds it highly amusing that Fatui recruits are terrified of you.

Even so, you’re still a kid so he doesn’t want you to get too much into it. If he sees you acting a bit too much crazy, he’ll stop you. He likes to help you tinker with stuff and build things. Thinks of you as his little minion assistant and secretly cherishes you a lot. Not gonna lie though, if you want someone dead, he’ll probably indulge you. He’s not very sane either…

Pulcinella:

He has seen his fair share of youngsters and even though he’s never met anyone like you, he still knows how to deal with you. I just know he can scold you to the point you feel bad for doing crazy things all the time. But then he does a big sigh and lets you off the hook “this time only.” Papanella’s the kinda guy to get you those color-by-number books and crayons and watch you color, finds it amusing when you don’t even use the right colors the book tells you to use. Encourages your creativity, in fact. Is touched when you give him a poorly kid-drawn picture of your Harbinger family. Puts it on one of the walls in Zapolyarny Palace so everyone can admire it.

Every time you try to get involved in the crazy bloody stuff, he just subtly tries to lure you with some different activities. Thinks it’s very important to have a nurturing childhood. Actually, he just bought this new brand of cookies to bake… he’s gonna need a helper, you know? Pulcinella’s probably successful with this multiple times, hanging out with grandpa is the best. (Probably tells you stories of his younger glory days.) Also lets you play with his cane and chuckles when you imitate him.

Scaramouche:

For some reason, you thought he’d be a good role model because you’ve seen him electrocute people, and were like ‘Hey I wanna do that too!” Scaramouche initially tells you to stop following him around but he still can’t help but have a soft spot for you. When you stole his hat and mimicked his laugh he gave up all attempts of trying to ignore you. Scaramouche’s another one who doesn’t mind the craziness but he prefers to let you not do that since he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. He actually thinks it’s amusing when you manage to outwit grown adults. Surprisingly, he still likes it when you act your age. His tone is noticeably gentler with you and he likes to watch over you and be your hidden protector. Also gives you random advice so you can look out for yourself in this world.

Arlecchino:

She has come across all kinds of kids in her orphanage. Shy and introverted ones, extroverted ones eager to prove themselves. But she has never come across one like you, which puts her a bit at a loss of what to do with you, because her normal disciplining is not working. Despite her efforts to hide it, all the other kids can see you’re definitely her favorite, and often flock around you to pester you with questions. A lot of them like to watch you do air punches and kicks so the orphanage is often lively now.

I can see Arlecchino being pretty overprotective of you, simply because she’s seen a lot of kids get hurt due to carelessness and mistakes so she frequently makes sure you’re not alone. In return, she’ll let you carry on for however long about anything you want. She’s a very good listener and has a good memory.

La Signora:

The one who has the urge to protect you from all horrors of this world the most. She lost her lover and her own humanity a long time ago, and to think about losing you brings her pain. Therefore, she’d much rather have you by her side as she yells at the new recruits rather than out in the world fighting people. There’s not much she can do about the craziness, but she tries to explain to you not to get into too much danger. You don’t know who you could lose, or what happens when someone loses you. You don’t understand much, but La Signora looks solemn and sad during these moments, so you tone down a bit and just lay in her lap while she strokes your hair. Likes to dress you up and do pretty hairstyles, eat good food, and generally do fun stuff with you. You should enjoy life for what it is while you can.

Pantalone:

Still spoils the hell out of you. He doesn’t know your backstory or childhood but he assumes it must not be good because of how you are now, which is something Pantalone can relate to a lot. So a lot of the time, he just spoils you, enough to forget about anything else. Often times he likes to sit there and watch you open all of your gifts. Pantalone stays in Snezhnaya most of the time and uses his experience to convince you to stay with him instead of trying to go out into danger. Instead teaches you accounting business and becomes your economics teacher so you can assist him (it doesn’t work very well.)

Sandrone:

She turns people into puppets and robots, so Sandrone can’t comment much on how you are, but she’s still gonna stop you from going out and committing mischievous acts. The kind of sibling who has her Automatons stand guard at every possible exit, even the windows, to prevent you from sneaking out and trying to go on a mission with everyone else. When you come back all cute and pouty, complaining about how strict she is, she just lets her other robots soothe you until you forget about it.

Childe:

In a way, you remind him of how he was when he was a kid. Childe doesn’t think he was as crazy as you though, and he did have a normal childhood before he fell into the Abyss, but he knows about the insatiable urge for battle and fighting. So he understands how you are a lot. The only thing is that he doesn’t want you to grow up into a killing machine like him. So he tries his best to expose you to normal kid things, and keep you away from all the bloody and gory stuff. Even when you beg him to let you come on a mission with him, or even to go clean up some Treasure Hoarders, he’ll say no every time since he really doesn’t want the image of him in blood etched into your mind.

He really loves when you get all adorable with him. You asking him to tell you a story? He’s buying all the bedtime story books across Teyvat and reading you to sleep every day. When he makes you meals and you get all pouty and pick out all the vegetables? He thinks it's so sweet and already considers you part of his family. But then you give him whiplash when you’re the first to offer to take out a target. Childe has already accepted that you’re not going to change your crazy tendencies, but he’s made it his responsibility to preserve your innocence and childhood, if only a little bit.

Time Reversing Magic:

When you told them you could reverse time, none of them really took you seriously. After all, kids tend to have a lot of daydreams and made-up abilities. But for once you actually seemed serious and said the first time you did it, you fell asleep for a week. And as kids get when people don’t believe them, you insist on proving your ability to them. Some of them find it cute how persistent you are, others are interested in why you chose to lie about time reversing of all things. Until they realize you aren’t lying.

You dropped a plate on the floor, and it clattered and broke into pieces. And then you closed your eyes and focused your energy on your hand directed at the plate. Before everyone knew it, the plate was back on the table unbroken, and you were lying on the floor. Chaos ensues.

The most interested one has to be Dottore of course. How did you do that? What kind of childhood did you have to develop that ability? Who are your parents? Are you even human? What are the consequences of this power? Then there are the ones who don’t really want you to use your power. What if you get seriously injured from using it too much or too long? They don’t want to see you hurt. You won’t have to use it anyway, they can protect you well enough. If anything, I think Pierro would know the most and be able to help you control it. He knows about Khaenri’ah’s secrets so he would know about all ancient types of magic.