"She'd Like You More If You Were Nicer To Her" -Drabble

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. 

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

— trigger & content warnings. none applicable!

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

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

       "Father..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

       Their concern was not unwarranted, but indeed unecessary.

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

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

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

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

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This is a rewrite of an old fic!

Summary: Upon your creation you are deemed unworthy by your creator; your mother. You are sent hand in hand to face the world of Teyvat and it's challenges until it forces your brother to change forever to protect you...

Pairings: Scaramouche/Kunikuzushi x Sibling!Fem!reader - platonic!

Notes/warnings: Fem reader! Reader is said to somewhat resemble Ei! Spoilers for Scaramouche and Ei's back story, but it's changed in this story! Unhealthy family relationships and dynamics! Child abandonment! Small mentions of death (not reader or Scara!)

Kunikuzushi - as he would later be named, came into this world as a mere experiment into the making of living puppets; created by the Electro Archon Raiden Ei. Due to it being her first time creating a puppet she somewhat tested the limits of it; thus making Kunikuzushi quite different from her, but he still resembled her enough to be recognized as her kin.

She hadn't expected much from the first try, but she was still disappointed that he didn't turn out perfect or the way she had imagined him to be. He was too emotional; too human for her desired outcome. An imperfection in her eyes and thus unfit to be the holder of her Gnosis or rule Inazuma. He was quickly left behind, but not discarded.

This disappointment did not deter her, as she tried again with more knowledge and experience. This time the puppet would be designed and created with her desired outcome in mind. Thus she created you, but even you weren't what she deemed to be worthy. You resembled her like a daughter would resemble their mother and you were not as openly emotional as her first creation, but it wasn't good enough. You weren't good enough in her eyes...

What Ei seeked was a clone-like puppet void of all emotions and humanity so it's judgement or obedience couldn't be clouded by them. All so she could pull it's strings and make it dance while she hid behind the curtain; locked away in the plane of Euthymia for all eternity. Neither of you fit into these standards and thus had no place in her vision of Eternity.

So you were cast out; simply thrown away like used toy's after she finished playing with them. In her eyes this was a kindness, as she "allowed" you to live freely as humans and choose your own path. It was more akin to guilt; like she felt she owed this to you because of her failure's. Perhaps a part of her had that motherly instinct that recognized you two as her children - thus she could never kill you, but neither could she keep you. You would never know for sure..

Together you would stumble throughout the lands of Inazuma as wanderer's, endlessly seeking for something unknown as you had no destination or goal. You were like to newborns that could walk and talk, yet knew nothing of the world you lived in. What were you seeking? A home? Some meaning in life? A purpose? But if your own creator; your own mother could turn you away - what purpose could your life possibly serve?

Throughout your journey you became somewhat known as others saw you as strange and unusual due to your unique clothing and behavior; people would refer to you as the "Kabukimono Twins". Though you weren't twins in reality you never corrected them as telling humans the truth of your nature would not only be difficult, but potentially dangerous for you. "Twins" was simply easier as neither of you aged and some of your features were similiar enough to mistake you two for real twins!

Despite how careful you tried to be, your journey always ended in disaster and heartbreak. Those around you would either betray you or die; though your brother saw their death as another form of betrayal. Especially with the human boy you lived with for a time, he was sick and you all knew this; but he had promised you would be a family - together forever! He was the one who gave you your names, so his death truly changed your lives forever...

You might have not noticed it or tried not to, but all your hardships had forever changed your brother. He became colder, more suspicious and distrusting of others; he would often scare them away with his paranoia. He smiled less and the sound of his laughter became like a distant memory... It saddened you greatly, but it was what he had to do to make sure you would never be betrayed again and to keep you safe.

You were the only one to never betray him and the only constant in this miserable life you lived. He knew he could always count on you to stay by his side no matter what, but he was becoming more paranoid the longer your journey went on. He kept having nightmares of loosing you or you joining with the rest of the world in betraying him. He wouldn't let you do that to him, he couldn't...

In a twisted sense he was glad you were meek and depended on him for almost everything. It greatly lowered the chances of you being able to betray him, unless you were influenced by someone else; which he wouldn't allow to happen. You barely interacted with humans anymore and when you did it was Kunikuzushi who would do the talking for both of you. Either way your own fear of abandonment and betrayal would nake it impossible for you to even consider doing it to someone else, especially him of all people.

As he descended from his hopeful, happy and naive personality; he would come to cherish it in you. He wanted to protect this part of you at all costs, to keep it intact... You could somehow still see the world in that sweet innocent way, even after all you have been through. He couldn't afford to do so anymore or you would be put in danger and be taken advantage of, but it was a sacrifice he was more than willing to make for you.

Somewhere along the line he became obsessed with the thought of gaining the Gnosis of your creator and becoming a God; something Ei thought him to be incapable of being. He wanted to prove her and the entire world wrong! He convinced you that with the Gnosis he would have enough power to protect you from everything; so nothing could hurt you ever again. You of course trusted him wholeheartedly and agreed.

It wasn't long after the boy's death that you were taken in by the Fatui and transported far from the land of your birth to the cold land of Snezhnaya. Things changed much then as he was made the Sixth Harbinger and named Scaramouche or The Balladeer, but he would still have you call him Kunikuzushi in private. You also saw each other much less as he was busy traveling around Teyvat on the Tsaritsa's orders and you were left in the Zapolyarny Palace all alone to wait for him as he couldn't trust anyone else to look after you.

He didn't care for the Tsaritsa or his colleagues, so he wasn't opposed to defending you by any means necessary if needed. They were a nice benefit to furthering his goals of gaining his creator's Gnosis and giving you the life you were deprived of; the life you deserved. You were the light in his darkness, his only reason to go on and he wouldn't let anything take that from him. Even if it meant locking you up with only him to talk to when he was available...

He never let you see this side of him; this new him. You never met Scaramouche The Balladeer, in your eyes he would only ever be your darling brother Kunikuzushi. The Fatui along with it's Harbingers essentially hated and despised him; as he was rude and never in a good mood. He would often yell or shout for any reason and at anyone if they displeased him or simply existed in his presence when he was in a bad mood; which was more often than not. While with you he was sweet and gentle, making jokes and doing menial tasks to keep you entertained like games, art and enjoying tea with snacks.

He was a completely different person when he was with you; you brought out the last piece of Kunikuzushi he had left in him. He would only let you know of and keep this side of him alive. As soon as he left your room he would turn back into the ruthless and cruel Balladeer, but every sacrifice and ounce of blood he had to spill was worth it if it meant he could give you the life you had only ever dreamed of. It was all worth it if he could see you smile and happy while proving to your creator that she was wrong about both of you...

A/N: I've been wanting to rewrite this for a long while now! The original was fine, but I feel my current writing helps to bring out more from the story and make it more alive :D

Feel free to like, comment and or reblog! Any interaction with this post is greatly appreciated <3

Time dilation with sibling scara. What’s his reaction to reader sleeping for weeks on end and not sleeping for months?

SAGAU SCARAMOUCHE AND TIME DILATION (SLEEPING + HINT OF DAILY LIFE EDITION)

❀ synopsis: Scaramouche pesters you for the 20th time that you need to take a break. Maybe he's right, you have been overworking yourself for quite a while. Maybe a nap is what you need. Btw this is platonic and Scaramouche is a wanderer in this hcs.

❀ pronouns: they/them

He's confused, you're like a rubix cube to him. No matter how many times he twists and turns you there would still be cubes that don't match the color. And to add to that, rubix cubes don't even exist in Teyvat. It's been what? Two months since he noticed that you haven't slept for even a bit, and how sometimes you would doze off when doing basic tasks. There are also times when you would forget to breathe, despite being human. And times when you don't blink for half a day and just stare at whatever you were reading.

Did he forget to mention you don't eat at all? Your body should've been malnourished for not eating any protein or consuming any calcium. But no, you're in perfect condition. Well, you are God. But your body is human the last time he checked.

He would confront you about this like an Asian mom worrying for their child but the parent doesn't know how to show their concern. He threatened that if you don't sleep he will sedate you just so you can close your eyes for once. Not wanting to continue arguing with Scaramouche you agreed and slept at your shared camp.

It wasn't suspicious at first, he thought you were just oversleeping since you haven't slept for a long time. But when he came back from collecting ingredients for lunch and you were still sleeping he was starting to worry. When lunch was made he shook you to wake up, it turns harsher the longer you didn't even move your arm to push him away.

But as the day goes by he starts to worry when the sun is about to set. Why haven't you woken up yet? Is this some sick joke your playing on him? Nahida is the one reassuring him that you will be alright and that it's nothing life-threatening since it seems like your body is in perfect condition. He hopes she's right, you're the first person who stayed with him for this long. He doesn't know what he's going to do with himself if you leave him.

He spends most of his time at the side of your bed, waiting for you to move or open your eyes. Nahida checks you twice a week to see if anything changed in your state, and he would listen to her report to ease himself from his panic and assure himself that your still here with him.

He has definitely cried at one point after weeks of you sleeping. He wanted you to rest, but not like this! What were you thinking?! Is this supposed to spite him? Did you want him to say sorry for yelling at you? Tell him what he did wrong so he can compensate for it, just please wake up...

The moment you do wake up you will be greeted with a very stressed and emotionally constipated Scaramouche. But the moment he does see you awake he is stuck between hugging you and slapping you in the face because how dare you to leave him for so long?

He probably did both, but he slapped you first before hugging you.

He was also holding back tears-

Do him a favor and don't point out how he's this close to crying.

"Y-you idiot! You're so selfish! Why did you worry me like that? I thought you died. If you do that again I'll kill you myself! S-so please don't die before that..."

Oh shit lmao kokomi sorry I totally forgot to say

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ LITTLE PEARL. platonic kokomi & reader !

synopsis. a child appears on watatsumi island, lost and scared. what is kokomi to do, other than take care of them? contents. PLATONIC. referenced shipwreck & parental death. gn!reader. they/them pronouns used. hurt/comfort. 1.5k words. notes. hehe i thought so!! i didn't want to start writing until i was certain though :D hope you enjoy!!

Kokomi’s quiet evening—a rare luxury these days, one that she never saw enough of to get used to—came to an abrupt halt with a knock at her door.

She looked up wearily, already wishing she had retreated to her secluded cave instead of her room. The seats she had dragged in there might not be as comfortable as her plush armchair, but it carried one sacred trait that she craved most: privacy.

But alas, in times of unrest, Watatsumi Island couldn’t afford to be missing its leader. There were too many reports of discontent in the outer villages, that spoke of rising tensions and concerning food shortages. She had to be available within the Shrine at all times, lest she miss an important message and leave her people to fend for themselves. No amount of convincing from General Gorou would sway her to take some time away; as much as the idea of withdrawing from her duties for a night enticed her, she knew she was far too important. She would have to make do recovering energy in her room.

The knock sounded again, this time more urgent. It was accompanied by a muffled call of her name, stifling any chance she had of ignoring it and continuing to read.

“-1 energy,” Kokomi murmured to herself, setting her book down. She rose from her seat, crossing her room in two quick steps. When the door swung open, she was met with a soldier.

“Your Excellency!” The soldier exclaimed, bowing as she appeared. “Soldiers from the southern village have returned, with a criminal in tow. They were attempting to steal from the camp supplies, but they were caught, and brought back here.”

“The southern encampment has its own officers in charge of deal with wrongdoers.” Kokomi frowned in confusion. “Why have they been taken here instead of being sorted out there?”

“Well… there were two issues.” The soldier said sheepishly. “For one, they’re not a resident of Watatsumi. We aren’t sure where they came from, but no one recognized them.”

Kokomi hummed. While it wasn’t unheard of for travellers to find themselves on Watatsumi, especially after Inazuma’s borders were officially reopened, those who did were carefully documented by Sangonomiya officials. It was particularly odd for a stranger to have slipped past their notice and gotten far enough to steal from their supplies. “What was the second issue?”

“That…” He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “That’s one that I think you will want to see for yourself.”

Kokomi raised an eyebrow, flitting through the possibilities in her mind. A mystery thief, unknown to the inhabitants of Watatsumi. From the soldier’s story, nothing stuck out as particularly notable. What could have the guards so vexed that they needed the Divine Priestess herself to solve the issue?

“Very well.” Kokomi said with a nod. “But please, explain to me everything that happened on the way.”

“Of course, Your Excellency.” The soldier bowed again, turning on his heel and leading the way. “Iwata was the one to discover them. He was trying to retrieve some seeds from the supply stores, when he found them rifling through the boxes.”

“What did they take?” Kokomi asked, as they turned the corner.

“Uh… food, I think. Some grain, a bit of the vegetables.” Curious. They must have been desperate, if they were resorting to stealing rations. “Anyway, he alerted the nearest samurai, who apprehended them. He suggested imprisoning them, but one of the elders talked him out of it. For starters, no one knows who they are so we didn’t know what kind of threat they might pose. Others opposed the idea because… well…”

The soldier pushed open the door, revealing the front of the shrine. Moonlight bathed the area in a dim glow, glinting across the shelled walls. In front of the palace stood a group of half-a-dozen soldiers, escorting one person towards the shrine. It was then that Kokomi saw their wide-eyed for the first time, and she realized what was so wrong with the scene.

“The criminal is—”

“A child.” Kokomi finished with a gasp. The thief couldn’t have been more than a young teen at the oldest, with watery eyes and tear streaks shining across their cheeks.

They looked—to put it bluntly—a mess. Their hair hung limply, tangled with sand and salt, their clothes were rumpled and covered in tears. They looked like something that had been dragged up from the bottom of the sea in a net, still dripping with water and covered in sand.

As the guard on their left pulled them forward, they let out a cry. Kokomi's eyes narrowed at his roughness, tugging on them carelessly like a ragdoll.

“Stand down, please.” Kokomi said calmly, waving away the guard. His grip on their arm only seemed to tighten, as vehement protests left his lips.

“Your Excellency! They were caught red-handed stealing from army supplies! I urge you not to treat this matter lightly just because—”

“Stand down, please.” Kokomi repeated, her voice turning steely. “Do not misunderstand me, soldier. That was an order, not a request.”

The guard turned red, but let go of the child’s arm. He bowed stiffly and stood back with the rest of his group, murmuring under his breath as he did. She elected to ignore him, as bold as the disrespect was, turning her gaze to the group.

“The rest of you, please return to your posts. I thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. You are all dismissed.” Kokomi said. All of the soldiers bowed to her—some more willingly than others—and slowly retreated from the shrine.

When they were out of eyesight, she turned back to the child, crouching until they were eye-to-eye. They shrunk away from her, stumbling on the steps in their haste to put distance between them. Something in her chest twinged at seeing just how skittish the child was, but she didn't let her expression waver.

“Hello there, little one.” Kokomi smiled warmly, her voice light. “I’m sorry for how roughly he treated you. My name is Kokomi, may I know your name too?”

“[Name],” they mumbled, still not meeting her eye. Their restless hands fiddled with the edge of their clothing, unraveling the already frayed stitches.

“[Name]… it suits you well. You must have lovely parents to give you such a nice name.” Kokomi paused. “Where are your parents, sweetheart?”

A shrug. Their eyes darted between her, and the guards still stationed at the side of the shrine.

“You don't know?”

Another shrug.

“Love, I'm here to help you.” She said softly, taking a cautious step towards them. When they didn't immediately retreat, she took another. “If you've gotten lost, and can't find your parents I'll do everything I can to reunite you with them.”

Their face scrunched up, and they murmured something quick that she barely managed to catch. “...They were with me on the boat.”

“What was that?”

“We... we were on the boat together.” They said quietly, clenching their tiny hands into fists. “They were with me when... when it started filling with water. They made sure I got onto the little boats, before... before...”

The pieces clicked in Kokomi's head, as the child burst into tears.

“I-I-I want them back!” They wailed, their words broken up by sobs.

“Oh my...” Kokomi said softly. “Oh my. Come, come here.”

She held open her arms in an invitation, waiting for them to move towards her. For a few moments they didn't move, only staring at her in between sniffles. She offered a small, comforting smile, and their hesitance broke, practically tackling her into a hug. She murmured comforts into their hair, as she held them close and tight to her chest. They continued to weep, all of their fear and stress spilling out in a messy wave of tears and snot.

“I'm so sorry, little one. I know this must be very hard for you, and you're being very brave.” She soothed, rubbing their back.

“Will you find them for me?” They asked, the question mumbled into the front of her clothes. Kokomi hesitated.

False hope would be cruel, but candor would be crueler. It wasn't the first time a ship had sunk in the Inazuma seas, but very few occasions returned with news of survivors. It was a miracle that they had lasted long enough to wash up on Watatsumi, but the chances of their parents doing the same were slim, especially if they hadn't already been discovered.

“I will do everything within my power to search for them.” Kokomi said carefully, making sure to add, “However, if we can't find them, I will be happy take care of you myself.”

They pulled away, and their eyes brightened through the glaze of tears. For the first time, hope seemed to bloom. “Promise?”

“I promise. Come with me, little pearl.” Kokomi said gently. “I’ll make sure you are well taken care of, alright?”

She held out her hand, and they tentatively grasped in in her own.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

How They Mark You as Theirs

Yandere x Fem! Reader

A/N: because I genuinely can't stop thinking about Scaramouche putting his makeup on you! It's been keeping me up at night.

Diluc: With jewelry

You sparkle when you walk into a room. Not just your glowing eyes or large, puffy dresses, but also what adornes your body. A pendant around your neck, large gem rings on your fingers, and earrings, more expensive than most could afford. People wondered if maybe all of your gems and stones were too heavy, maybe that's why despite the fact that you looked so lavish, you never smiled.

Dilcuc would be at your side, slipping another ring onto your finger. The other ladies would fawn at the sight, silently wishing for a man who wanted to adorn them with silver and gold, but to you, every ring, every stone, every bracelet, and every gem was another lock on the chain harboring you to him, claiming you as his.

Childe: With Bruises

Your neck is littered with love bites, your thighs covered in scratches from where his nails would dig into them, your wrist would have markings around them, from where he would hold you down, pressing passionate kisses and maybe more if he desired.

Even though you were embarrassed by the blatant proof of what he'd done to you all over your body, he still made sure you wore rather revealing clothing. You'd flush with embarrassed, knowing eyes looking all over you, but Childe would smile happily. A hand around your waist would caress you, making it known that he wished to claim you more.

Scaramouche: With make-up

How did everyone know that you were married to number six of the Fatui harbingers? Well, they had to look no further than your eyes, framed in that familiar red shade. The first time he makes you wear it, it's because you watched as he did his own. His nimble fingers held the brush like it was second nature, creating the lines against his eye with ease.

“Come here,” he'll order while still standing in front of the mirror. Before you can ask what he needs from you, he's already squeezing your cheeks between those same fingers, holding your face in place.

The brush tickles as it slides across your eyelids, making you shake a bit in his grasp as you hold back laughter. The smile on your face making his demeanor melt for just a moment, he softens and stops his work, just staring at your features, “I know how it feels. Stop moving,” he'll order. And you do your best to obey.

The sight of your smile is more than enough to make this a habit, instead of a one off thing. Everyday after your kimono dressing, he calls you to him, holding the brush stained with that familiar red makeup.

aww what if scara’s darling copied his red eye makeup, whether to catch him off guard or because of boredom

at first, scara's narrowing his eyes because hm. there's something different about you. he sees you everyday, he could accurately describe you from memory for any artist commissioned to paint your likeness. this familiarity has even the slightest change in your appearance sticking out like a sore thumb. seriously, you could change lip balms and he'd notice. he's weird like that.

with this in mind, you assumed he'd immediately point out the rouge pigment painted around your eyes. instead, he marched up to you, taking your chin in his unnaturally cold hand for an impromptu examination. after observing you from every possible angle, it hits him. the color, the shape, the placement—

—he blushes and sputters some incoherent spiel about 'ulterior motives' and 'shamelessness.' don't take the insults personally, the poor puppet is malfunctioning. for you to have replicated it this well, you must've studied him at length. did you find him handsome? had you noticed he changed his conditioner, giving his hair a glossier finish?

these thoughts run rampant in his overclocked brain.

good luck trying to convince him you did this out of boredom. he's convinced this is a subconscious sign of attraction, any evidence supporting the contrary goes in one ear and out the other. the power of delusion is unmatched.

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

Make Me Your God, I Can Give You Everything

Yandere! Scaramouche x Broken! Reader

Part of {Mai Playlist}

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, my lord Scaramouche,”

“How much?”

“More than anything, my lord Scaramouche,”

“Would you kill for me?”

“Happily, my lord Scaramouche,”

“Would you die for me?”

“If it would please you, my lord Scaramouche,”

Like a broken record repeating the same phrase over and over, you spoke your words with little emotion, hardly even a change in cadence. You looked at him, but your eyes had lost that familiar glimmer, that light that he'd come to rather enjoy, even if it was annoying. That light was perseverance, it was hope, it was good drive and will, but now it was gone and you often just looked more like a doll than he did.

“What’s something that would bring you joy?” He asked. Typically, he wasn't one to spoil you, but the last few weeks of you just being so docile and…empty. It had him worried. He wanted that spark back, that light in your eyes. He wanted you back.

“You, my lord Scaramouche,”

“No,” he spat back angrily, “What will really bring you joy? What will make you happy?”

“Anything you offer me is a gift enough, my lord Scaramouche,”

Annoyance caused him to stand swiftly from his chair and march over to where you sat, still as a board and posture straight, just like he'd drilled into you many times before. When he raised his hand to strike you, you didn't even flinch, making him lower it in surrender. You were still as beautiful as the day he got you, still as soft and your voice still as sweet. But you were hollow. Had he truly broken you down so?

He slumped back in his seat and sighed out longingly and you still barely moved. He made a motion with his hand for you to come closer and without a word, you did, “Sit. Join me,” he ordered. Promptly, you sat on his lap, the weight of your body comforting him. You were still in there, somewhere.

“I didn't want this,” he mumbled, his face pressed into you back, arms wrapped around your waist.

“You didn't wish for me to sit here?” You questioned, preparing to stand, but he pulled you back down with little resistance.

“No. I didn't want you to end up like this,” he squeezed your waist a bit tighter, making you let out a shallow breath, “Why couldn't you just love me as you were before. Why did it have to come to this?”

“I do love you, my lord,”

He pushed you from his lap and you crumbled to the floor, still, with little resistance. You didn't look scared or shocked, you didn't even look hurt from the way you'd fallen. Just there. He remembers the last time he'd done something similar to you. You spat at his feet in defiance. Mentally, he cringed at how hard he'd punished you that day. One of the many days of punishment that led to you becoming what you are now. Empty.

“I'm…I'm sorry,” he struggled to get the words out. Eyeing your face he saw something different, the slight raise of your eyebrows, before they fell again. But it was something. It was you, even for just a second, “Is that what you want? An apology?”

He kneeled before you and took one of your feet into his hands, his cold hands traced the soft skin of it. Scaramouche hadn't taken a knee for anyone in years. No one except his creator and the Tsaritsa herself. Both archons, but he put you on a similar pedestal. A kiss was pressed right against the toe of your foot and he felt your body jolt.

“Come back to me,” he pressed another kiss to your foot, “You'll be worshiped, not broken again.”

The Balladeer strives to uphold the illusion of a consensual and healthy relationship at any cost: no traces of toxicity and abuse shall be left out in the open for everyone to see. It is not that the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers himself cares about the opinions of his most untrustworthy colleagues or lowlifes under his command – you will be branded a fool for assuming that he is bothered by what others think. He just doesn’t want you to expect a knight in shining armor to come to the rescue once they see how badly he treats you; any hope to leave him by using the conveniently helping hand shall be extinguished akin to a firefly’s light. 

Scaramouche is not against the idea of spilling the impudent insect’s blood (he is more than willing to slay thousands and thousands of them if he feels like it) – he is against the idea of you seriously contemplating someone would gift you a ticket out of this relationship. The risk is minimal, he knows it: among the ranks of Fatui, it’s very unlikely for an ordinary piece of meat such as yourself to catch the attention of both high-ranking members and their subordinates of humble might – yet he will still prefer to terminate any chance of luring in any noble intentions.

He is not afraid of confronting that rare and exceptional idiot who would be brave enough to try to snatch the “maiden” out of the “dragon”’s grasp, oh no – he is afraid of losing his control over you. He must remain the sole pillar of the crumbling temple that is your life; you must rely only on him because who else in this rotten world will waste their time on you? You must realize that while he is an utterly deplorable being, he is your one and only “safe option”; more so than the potential “nice guy” scumbag who will keep up appearances as long as there is a benefit in doing so until the need to stab you in the back arises. With Scaramouche, you will never taste deception and betrayal – he may slap your face hard enough to split your lower lip, but he is at least honest about his methods of silencing your lousy mouth… And he will comfort your injury right away, with just the right amount of tenderness so as to not pollute his “villain” status, and you will be – in a rather paradoxical way – deemed insane for declaring he is handling you roughly because there will be nothing to your skin to indicate there was a laceration in the first place. 

You are not mistaken for presuming that he is no better than those he often accuses of hypocrisy. The Balladeer is just as obsessed with wiping out any evidence of what he is doing to you in private as his brainwashed agents are with covering up their clandestine activities in peaceful lands; he claims he is doing it to avoid unnecessary attention and insists that you will suffer much worse if others develop the idea that beating you is a fun and totally unpunishable thing to do – really, what else will those imbeciles get into their heads if they see their boss making a punching bag out of some peasant-looking woman? They will take the scene as an invitation to the banquet, of course!

By Scaramouche’s decree, therefore, everything about the twisted bond between the two of you must tell of the happiness of a dog kept on a leash by her master and demonstrate the elation of a toy that willingly sold itself to a puppet master. You must always smile and nod at his every statement; must always mind your manners and show no sign of artificiality – in other words, you must behave akin to a wind-up doll, additionally adopting a composure and obedience befitting a seasoned soldier (and definitely not a village wench). In this counterfeit theatre of his, there is no room for sabotage. You must be as perfect as the lead actor of the play and act accordingly, for should you try to dispose of the mask… Well, let’s just say that your extremely modest clothes were not chosen with the purpose of hiding your virtues.

Deliberately or not, though, The Balladeer misses the entire point. Given his cynicism, it’s probably the latter – he is not delusional, he is simply incapable of believing in the goodness and benevolence of people’s hearts. Be they Fatui or of as plain origins as you, his unpleasant experiences persuaded him of the ignorance and selfishness of humankind; in his flawed worldview, no one is going to steal you away from him because you have nothing valuable to give to them (even your body, irreparably scarred and marked by him, has long since lost its initial price). He refuses to acknowledge the presence of chivalry in certain individuals’ souls, for every single two-legged abomination populating this realm is here after the gain, after the thrill of seizing a treasure worthy of their ambitions, and that’s precisely why the “risk is minimal” and not nonexistent; that’s why the performance must go on and only end when you enter his chambers at night. 

Because someone might want to obtain you under the pretense of saving you. Because someone might gift you false wings and then tear them off for shits and giggles. Because someone might ache for the opportunity to spite him, and you would be naïve enough to fall for any trick. 

Suspicions will still be raised and doubts will still emerge, sure. There will be smart ones who shall silently question the masquerade and scrutinize your every move; there will be nosy ones who shall notice the stiffness of the rehearsed lines and catch the glimpse of uneasiness in your eyes, and there will be brazen ones who shall openly interfere with your relationship and pay with their life. Scaramouche doesn’t deny the possibility of this happening – he is too paranoid to be that offensively oblivious. What he does deny, however, is the existence of selfless motive because rectitude is not inherent to any living being.

It is the quality of the dead, after all. It would be in your best interest to trust Scaramouche and embrace his truth… The truth that no such color as “white” is present in Teyvat: it’s all black powder that poorly imitates the crystals of sugar, a chocolate house made of bitter bars. You must understand that if you don’t dance to The Balladeer’s tune, then you shall dance to someone else’s; ‘tis the fate of the cornered mouse who stubbornly chases after the piece of the invisible cheese. There is no escape out of the cats’ den, for no cat grants freedom to its prey – and luckily for you, he is the type of cat who favors his mouse safe and well-fed as long as she dispels his boredom and loneliness.

The final feast shall eventually come. But will you be able to survive the last yet desperate bite of his fangs?