Scaramouche Is Not As Delusional About The Nature Of Your Relationship As He Is In His Contempt Towards

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: platonic yandere content, implied child neglect, reader's parents are bad

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Day twenty eight: Running away from home

"Hi, little one!" You say to the tiny fairy. The sound of bells left her mouth and as usual you don't understand what she say, as humans can't really speak fairy language but you are used to it and smile at her anyway.

"Lilia said that if I ever needed, I could ask you to take me to him. So, can you show me the way, please?"

She made a face, pretending to think, while your heart was beating loudly as the seconds go by. She made another sound and then held your pinky with her whole tiny hand, making you walk quickly to follow her lead, as her little wings worked harder and faster.

Around you, the forest stretched out before you like a green and mysterious blanket, birds flying and chirping around you, along with squirrels who sometimes crossed your path to offer you some fruits and nuts.

Other people could only dream of getting to know the forest like you did, of discovering its most curious secrets and the best corners for picnics and playing hide and seek.

The winds welcomed you, gently caressing your face with its invisible fingers as you ran along a muddy path, your yellow galoshes stained brown. You had explored that forest since you were pretty younger, you had cried and laughed with your fae friends - especially Lilia. The older fae pretty much raised you when your parents were too busy fighting each other.

The almost setting sunlight hit the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Your fae friends, magical creatures you had known since you were a child, seemed to be hiding much deeper into the forest today.

This forest was like your second house and you were happy to be back each and every time. And this time, you would not go back. Things got too bad to bear. You couldn't handle it anymore.

You couldn't handle the screaming and crying, and the fights. You couldn't handle being ignored.

And sometimes, they hid themselves to tire you out and convince you to stay the night. They would never have to do this again, for you didn't plan to ever return "home" now.

Sometimes, they used to do that just to play games or take a nap without being disturbed by human presence - lazy faes, you used to thought, they could just cast some spell or something but they almost never did it. They liked teasing and scaring humans too much.

You stopped running when the little fairy did. She waved you goodbye as she flew away, the sound of bells echoing in the silent forest, a thin bead of sweat running down your forehead as you took a deep breath.

And Lilia really liked to spoil you to the point of being suffocating. You suppose it was because you were a human, a mortal and ephemeral being in his eyes.

And yet, a member of his little family.

Sometimes you would hear playful laughter or the sound of branches breaking, but when you turned around there was no one there. Lilia was definitely in the mood to tease you today and it didn't seem like Silver or Malleus were around to stop him from continuing. A soft smile appeared on your lips. For someone so old and wise as he claimed to be, Lilia could be so silly.

They looked like they hadn't aged a single day in the past five years. And you remembered the time when you were a young child lost in those forests, confused and afraid, and crying inconsolably about how no one would find you. You remembered Lilia's gentle touch on your head and his gentle smile as he wiped your tears with his fingers or the way he held your hand as he led you out of the forest.

In the distance, a soft glow caught your attention. Running in that direction, you emerged into a dark clearing. The sun had set very quickly or perhaps it was Malleus's powers acting to conceal their presence, the forest you were in, despite being beautiful, had a reputation for being haunted by dangerous and treacherous fae.

The same fae in front of you.

The same fae who taught you how to dance, how to escape making a deal with a fae. Who treated you so gently, like you were made of glass.

The next day you returned. After telling the story to your parents, they didn't believe it and said you were dreaming. But you knew it wasn't. You walked purposefully through the forest, trying your best to retrace your steps as you also forced yourself to remember the way back home.

That day, you met Malleus, tall and stern, and dressed in black and green, and you asked if you could touch his horns. He laughed so hard he cried. But in the end, he let you touch his horns while he listened to you chatter about his father, making a comment or two sometimes.

Somehow, you felt like he looked more fae than human, sometimes the necklace he wore around his neck glowed and he had such a gentle, comfortable aura. Instead of sharing the sweets with Lilia, Malleus and Silver, you ended up falling asleep with the platinum boy under a willow tree. When you woke up that day, you were at the entrance to the forest, covered with palm leaves serving as a blanket.

In the days that followed, you brought them sweets. Your mother had told you that if you made a friend, you should share food with them so you wanted to do so, you brought so many sweets that they kept falling out of your pockets and you had to bend down to pick them up. This time, the one who came to your aid was Silver, he was also a human, but he told you that his biological parents had abandoned him in that forest and then a fae decided to take care of him.

Humans can be worse than fae, he told you. And his tone was full of pain as if he was older than he actually looked like.

Sebek, you met after running away from home for the first time. Your parents were fighting for some stupid reason again and it made you so stressed. You kicked every stone you found on the way and grimaced every time the sun touched your face with its rays. Everything in the world seemed boring and cruel that day. You, however, took your mind off it as you were captured in a trap, steel wires binding your legs together and pulling you up until you were suspended in the air.

But the sweets were gone. That night, you dreamed of big red eyes watching you sleep in the dark, but they were gentle and protective eyes, as if they wanted to guard your sleep.

To thank you for the sweets, for making friends with Silver and Malleus.

To this day you don't remember what Sebek was hunting or trying to do, but the story still made you laugh, especially because he was more panicked than you, screaming and shaking. And when Lilia came to his aid, he was also laughing at the situation.

Five years later and it still feels like nothing has changed. Silver had in his hands an ancient and delicate lyre, his fingers plucking his strings in a peaceful rhythm as if inviting his listener to relax and let go of their worries. He once tried to teach you how to play, but you didn't have much talent for it, preferring to listen rather than play.

And it was always a beautiful sight to watch him play, he was ethereal in those moments, as if he was playing a secret song that the world has forgotten, a song that made your heart inside your chest spin.

That called you. That made you feel welcome.

Malleus and Sebek, however, had no such concern and danced arm in arm and spinning in circles. It was a silly and fun dance, and at that moment, you wished you had your cell phone with you so you could register it forever, but you had quickly left the house and forgotten it.

The music was addictive, your body almost moving to the beat. But you stopped yourself in time, knowing that Lilia would offer you to dance with him, he always did because he knew you couldn't accept it. Dancing with a fae is like a drug, one that you don't have a medicine for and that once you try it nothing else in the world makes sense.

And whenever you would agree to dance with him, he'd go on and on without ever stopping.

Well, you'd have to commit this entire precious moment to your memory then, you suppose.

They noticed his presence almost immediately and Silver nodded his head in greeting as he played the last notes of his song.

After finishing their dance, Malleus came to you and, as he always did, wrapped you in a warm hug that instantly makes you melt. Your face sinking into his chest as he stole any and all worries you might have been harboring within yourself to him. A long sigh left your lips and you looked at him fondly.

"Any news to tell us, Yuu?" He asked.

So many things. More things than you could think of at that moment. School, new friends, new changes, everything was new and completely terrifying, and you were abandoning everything. Because it wasn't worth it.

There in that hug that ended very quickly, with those beings that everyone had an irrational fear against, you were at home. You were free to be who you were without any fear of possible rejection from them.

"Too much to say, not enough time for everything." You replied, a little laugh present in your voice. You held onto his shirt, silently asking for another hug and giving him your best puppy eyes, and Malleus, laughing, enveloped you into another of his warm hugs.

"But... I ran from home, this time for good." Your voice was muffled against Malleus shirt.

Sebek was beside you in a moment, and your ears hurt from anticipation. "What do you mean by that, little human?"

You winced, your lips wobbling as you tried not to cry. You failed in getting your voice steadier. "Mom and dad were fighting again... They were screaming, and there was crying, and at some point, they were breaking stuff. And they blamed me for everything, even if i didn't have any fault at all."

Malleus’s eyes widened, and his hands tightened over your shoulders, not out of anger, but out of a fierce, protective desperation. His sharp eyes softened as he saw the tears brimming in yours, the way you were trying so hard to hold them back, to not show any sign of weakness.

You fell into silence, too afraid to cry to continue speaking. When you cried while your parents were fighting, they used to belittle and mock you.

Your mom used to say that her life would be better without you in it.

But to him, there was nothing weak about your tears. It made his chest ache to see you so small and fragile, curling into yourself like you wanted to disappear. He tightened his hug over your figure.

“They blamed you?” Sebek repeated, his voice low and dangerous, as if he could scarcely believe it. “How dare they? Those insolent—” He stopped himself, his fangs bared for a moment before he managed to calm down. He could feel his rage bubbling, but he knew that anger would not help you right now.

“You are not at fault, little human. You never were.” He said softly, through gritting teeth.

You glanced up at him, trying to find comfort in his words, but the hurt you ignored for so long ran too deep. “But they said—”

“They were wrong!” Sebek’s voice boomed, making you flinch, but he immediately softened, realizing he was scaring you. He lowered his voice, though it still held a fierce intensity. “You should never have to bear such cruelty. Your worth does not depend on their words, and I won’t let you believe it does.”

“You don’t have to go back to them,” Sebek said, and there was a finality in his tone, a vow that left no room for argument. “You can stay here, on the woods, where no one can hurt you.”

The forest was quiet, save for the sound of your shaky breathing, and you felt the weight of their gaze on you, unwavering and heavy with emotion. Sebek didn’t always understand humans, but he understood enough to know that you needed protection, and he would do anything to provide it, as would Melleus and Simver.

Anything to make you feel safe, even if it meant guarding you from the very people who were supposed to love you.

You blinked at him, surprised by how quickly he made the decision for you, but a part of you felt relieved, a part of you were afraid they would send you away. “But… I won't be a burden?”

From behind Sebek, you saw a shadowy figure approaching fast, and in the blink of the eye, you realized who it was. Lilia was walking faster, his presence filling the space, his eyes glowing softly in the dim light. He had heard everything, and there was a sadness there, but also a determination that made your heart skip a beat.

Silver's eyes flashed with something unreadable, almost offended by the mere suggestion. “A burden?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising again before he caught himself, this time gentler but no less insistent.

“You could never be a burden. We—” he paused, his words catching in his throat before he continued, “we care for you. Do you not see that? If you are in pain, we will be there to carry it for you. If you are in need, we will help you. You belong with us.”

“What Sebek and Silver says is true,” He spoke, his voice was commanding, as if every word was a decree. “You are no longer alone, darling. The forest now welcomes you as your home now, as I welcome you into my family and we will not let you face any more of that suffering.”

You instantly melt; the tension leaving your shoulders. Part of you wanted to tell them that you didn’t want to impose, that you didn’t want to drag them into your problems, but another part — a much smaller, quieter part — felt relieved, like you could finally breathe. Like you didn’t have to keep fighting alone.

Lilia appeared beside Malleus, a soft, knowing smile on his lips. “You poor thing,” he said, his voice as light as a lullaby, yet with a hint of sadness. “You’ve been carrying so much weight by yourself, haven’t you? It must have been exhausting. But you don’t have to anymore. We’re here for you.”

Silver's usually sleepy eyes were now wide open and he was fully awake. “If your family can’t see how precious you are, then they don’t deserve you. We’ll take care of you, and you won’t have to worry about going back.”

You felt the weight of their words, the way they seemed so sure, so unyielding in their determination to keep you safe. It was overwhelming, and for a moment, you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, hot and unbidden, and before you could even try to wipe them away, Sebek took you from Malleus’s arms and into his.

His arms were firm and steady around you. “There, there, little human,” he murmured, his voice gentler than you’d ever heard it. “Cry if you must, but know this: you are not alone anymore. Not now, not ever.”

Malleus stepped closer, placing a hand on your head, his cool fingers brushing against your hair. “We will keep you safe,” he said softly, his tone carrying a promise that echoed through the room. “And if anyone dares to hurt you again, they will face our wrath. As the fae king, I promise you this.”

It was a strange feeling... To be surrounded by so much protectiveness. They were intense, determined. And you had been aching for something like this for so long — to be wanted, to not be a burden.

You leaned into Sebek’s embrace, your sobs slowly subsiding as the warmth of their presence surrounded you. Maybe it was wrong to feel comforted by this, but right now, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to believe that, for once, you could let go and be cared for, without fear or hesitation.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but they heard it. And in that moment, you felt the unspoken promise between you and them solidify, a bond that was as fierce as it was unbreakable.

For better or worse, you were theirs now, and nothing in this world — or any other — would change that.

making shrimp dishes for floyd. sinigang, fried shrimp, spicy shrimp. make him watch as i eat my fellow shrimp. slice of reality.

HAKAW HI SJAKDH I LAUGHED SM I CANT WITH THIS >>>>

masterlist

floyd leech ; 🌊

He watched carefully, stricken with all sorts of emotions as he watched you serve the shrimp, tangy and delicious as you licked your lips hungrily, wishing you could eat this in front of him.

You just smiled, like the innocent little prefect you are.

You smiled.

You then smiled sinisterly..

Floyd remained silent, eyes wide open as he watched you carefully, silently, staring as you continued putting plate upon plate of dishes of various shrimp on the table.

HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY??

"K-Koebi–chan. What the fuck are you—"

"Eat my brethren."

He paused.

You'd cook your own family? This turned into some Sweeney Todd shit fr-

Floyd raised his fork. Usually he'd love eating shrimp, he's a moray eel. It's in his diet! But for his own Shrimpy-chan TO COOK SHRIMP?? WHAT WAS HE TO SAY?

Does he call Jade? Does he run away or just submit to the agonising confusion and horrific reality of you deciding to boil your shrimpy brothers for each dish?

Azul watched from the side, eyeing every moment of the scene carefully as he did his best not to snort into a hysterical fit of laughter..

for once, he knows what it feels like to be terrified of someone else. Maybe that's why he loved you for giving him such a feeling nobody else could.

Yan!Cynari poly

Cyno and Tighnari who were already yanderes for each other, only to stumble on you and catch feelings immediately. Possibly when they go to Mondstadt for the Windblume Festival.

They ask you, a local, for a tour. Cyno has been there before, but briefly and it was a while ago, so he doesn't remember/know much. From the beginning you got some... Off vibes from them, but chose not to say anything. Maybe you might have just been a little bitter because you were still alone on the flagship festival of romance.

Them two flirting with each other while you just sit there like "right in front of my salad?" when you go to Good Hunter.

They do notice your awkward glaces away whenever they get romantic and take it as you being jealous. You do want a relationship, but you do feel like the very awkward third wheel.

Why don't they take care of your problems? They'll have you and you won't be alone ever again. It's a win-win. And Collei can have someone to take care of her and teach her more about Mondstadt.

"Please Don't Leave Me"

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

Words spoken so silently, whispered into the quiet of the night. He'd have thought it was a ghost, if not for your arm draped around his waist, holding him in place. Not really holding him persay, you were weak, fragile, if he wanted to he could snap that arm in two. But he didn't. He wanted you to hold him, while sleepily batting those eyelashes, tears in the corners of your eyes, lips in a tight pout.

Such a terrible dream. It was one filled with monsters and goblins, creatures that came not from this world and people who wanted to hurt you. You'd had plenty of nightmares since your forced marriage, but never did you have one where he was the hero. Standing tall and getting rid of all the assailants with the flick of his nimble wrist, was Scaramouche. He looked at you and for once, your heart didn't drop to your ass, your stomach didn't churn. He looked at you and you felt safe.

Even you were surprised by the way you'd woken up, holding him in your arms. The moonlight casted down on his face made his pale skin seem to glow, his hand reaching out to brush some of the sweat from your forehead. His skin was cold. Cool against the hot summer night and the painfully warm nightmare you'd just had. He felt like ice coming to calm you, his fingers dancing all over your face before settling on your cheek and using his thumb to brush your lips.

“Bad dream?” He questioned into the night, his voice hoarse from just waking up. All you could do was nod in response, your head moving up and down at a slow pace, “I thought so. You'd never touch me willingly, not without such nonsense being the reason.”

He sighed, but still pulled you closer to him, making you rest your head upon his chest. His cold skin cooled your warm cheek, one of your tears falling from your eyes and landing upon him. His hand moved up to cup the back of your head, lightly scratching at your scalp and coaxing you back to sleep. The feeling of his heartbeat, the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing, it was all calming. Disgustingly so, considering who he was and what he'd done to you. Yet you couldn't rip yourself away.

“I won't let anything harm you, even in your dreams. Now go back to sleep,” his words felt sincere, his hold on you tight. He was your biggest concern, the thing you were most scared of in the world, but you still snuggled in closer to him. Still let yourself be swept away in his hold. You let the feeling of his breathing rock you to sleep, you let him hold you.

But only for the night. When morning comes, everything will go back to normal, and the shelter you feel in his arms will dissipate and vanish. Filled with that familiar fear and disgust of him that keeps you at a ten feet distance, he cherishes this one moment where he gets to hold you. He too sinks into your touch. Protecting you from the silly fear of bad dreams, but also feeling a pride at knowing that you grasped at him in your sleepy state for security.

Okay so maybe I'll give a couple headcanons about yandere! Sugar daddies!!

Nepobaby! Scaramouche who isn't the least bit upset that he's known for his very successful mother. Brandishing his money and power, he laughs in the face of those who tell him that he isn't self made. He laughs because he doesn't care. Known for controversy and being bratty, he's not an easy person to even be in the same room with. But he has a particular love for taunting you. The first time he picks you up in one of his fancy cars, you're trembling. He loves the taking pity on you, the poor college student struggling to get by, flashing money on your face. Taking you to places he knows you can't even dream of afford to spend a year's worth of your salary on lavish. It's almost crazy that someone so rich and powerful seems obsessed with your time, bombarding your phone with practically hundreds of texts and calls if you're even an hour late, quick to tell you how important he is. You can't afford to live without you, he tells you, you need his money. You need him.

CEO! Diluc who is self made, but humble regardless. Running a big corporations all by himself is quite a lonely job, he explains to you, which is why a man such as himself if willing to pay for companion ship. He's the epitome of a gentleman, not even asking for intimacy even after months of dates and thousands of dollars spent on you. Diluc says that he just enjoys your company, but even that gets to be a bit much. What was initially started as you just seeing him for dates on weekends became spending the days at his house and even sitting in his office while he filed documents. He just enjoys seeing you there, making you quit your job and even school, saying that he can support you so they're not necessary. Even with your large paycheck, you feel as if what he wants is too much, but mentioning this means your met with soft spoke harsh comments, implying that you're ungrateful for all that was given to you.

Bonjour

I'm back mootie🗣️🗣️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Take your time and take care of yourself too mootie‼️

Au revoir

Puppets

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are your dreams about?”

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

“Nothing you should worry about.”

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

“Oh.”

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

“You probably already know, but I'm—”

“Going on a trip again.”

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

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

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

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

‘Okay, I’m ready…’

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We'll see how it goes.”

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

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

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

“Can…”

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

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

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

“...”

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

“Goodbye.”

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

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

‘Hehe, I did it…’

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

“Is this what they call green gra—”

“You.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me, who the hell hurt you?”

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

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

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

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

‘The Doctor…’

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

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

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

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

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

“A scary man with a mask…”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No, I would never be mad at you.”

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

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

“I won’t…”

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

Title: Rotting Divinity.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.9k.

TW: Reader Is Referred To As A Shrine Maiden But Gender Neutral, Set A Few Years After Dottore Starts Experimenting On Scaramouche, Unhealthy Relationships, Obsessive Behavior, Kidnapping, Themes of Chronic Illness, and Mentions of Human Experimentation.

Scaramouche opened his eyes as the sun set, casting the sky a dull pinkish blue. You were standing above him, a straw basket on your hip and a frown tugging on the corners of your lips.

He let a groan as he hauled himself into a more dignified position, palms planted in the raw dirt and dried grass caught in his hair. One glance was spared to establish that he was no longer in the Doctor’s cramped observation room, all cold stone walls and porcelain tables with leather straps stapled into each corner, before his attention settled on you. “Mortal,” he barked, speaking loudly enough to hear himself over the pain still buzzing in his skull. “Which island is this?”

“Yashiori, near Serpent’s Head,” you muttered, disappointment heavy in your tone. When he clicked his tongue, you went on, your frown deepening. “You ruined my herb garden.”

Had he? He couldn’t remember anything after the Doctor worked those long, tapered needles underneath the skin of his forearms; after an iron mask was forced over his mouth and nose and he began to think his body may tear itself apart before that sadist had the chance to. He wasn’t supposed to be in Serpent’s Head. He wasn’t supposed to be on Yashiro at all. He hadn’t meant to be here, and yet, he’d be thrown in a cage of iron bars and subjected to another round of testing as soon as he trudged back to that dungeon of a facility. Thinking about the feeling of thick, pulsing electricity coursing through his hollow limbs was enough to send a familiar bolt of agony down the length of his spine. It was little more than a phantom, a shadow of the torture it would take to unlock his truepotential, but it was enough to leave him curling into himself involuntarily, glaring at the soil with a hollow type of malice.

He would’ve recovered in a second – less than a second, a moment, a breath – if you hadn’t fallen to your knees at his side, cooing as you pressed the back of your hand into his forehead. “Are you hurt?” If he’d tried to answer, his response would’ve been lost to your fussing, the way you hummed and shook your head as you hauled him to his feet. “Body aches? Migraines? Whatever it is—” An arm was drawn over your shoulders, his weight forcibly rested on you. “—I’m sure I have something for it inside. A place for you to rest, too – however you got here, the journey had to be burdensome.”

He considered protesting. Even in the state he’d been reduced to, it would’ve taken nothing to pry himself away from you, to shatter your ankles underneath his heel and leave you begging for the mercy of the creature you’d tried to pity. He could’ve penned a letter to the Doctor as you bled out in the soil of your own garden, recovered his strength as he took your body apart and fed your remains, piece by piece, to whatever scavengers would have you. He could’ve, if he’d wanted to. He could’ve, but then, he saw what you were wearing.

The sleeves of your kosode were rolled neatly to the elbow, the hems of your pleaded hakama dusted with dirt and grass stains. Unlike the maidens of Watatsumi and the Grand Narukami Shrine, you wore neither red nor blue, but white. Pure, never-ending white.

Scaramouche went limp in your hold, his eyes falling shut as you let out a surprised laugh, doing your best to accommodate his now-dead weight. He could kill you tomorrow, he figured. It was already dusk, and while he didn’t mind traveling at night, he knew the Doctor wouldn’t begin to wonder where he was until the sun rose tomorrow morning. He wasn’t a dog, eager to crawl home and prove his obedience. He could wait until he was called for.

At least, by then, your worrying might’ve done something to dull the burn of the electricity underneath his skin.

~

“So, you’re telling me that this is a waste of time.”

You ignored him with a light hum, a quick movement of your tasseled gohei. Normally, daily rites were something to be performed quickly and efficiently before the unlucky shrine maiden responsible for carrying them out returned to scrubbing floorboards and disturbing fortunes, but in a life as slow as yours, with so little to occupy the many hours of your countless days, even repetitive tasks such as this were given an unnecessarily artistic flourish. Scaramouche might’ve called it indulgent, if he ever decided to be so kind to you.

Currently, you were dancing in front of a dilapidated shrine at the base of the snake’s skull; the paint mostly chipped away and the wood close to rotting. You’d explained, four days after he first allowed you to haul him into your ancient cabin, that you would be responsible for rebuilding it once it inevitably collapsed, an honor only bestowed upon caretakers every few centuries, and he’d told you that you ought to save yourself a few decades and tear it down that day, but you’d only laughed. Most things he said made you laugh.

He'd noticed early on that you were of a weak constitution. Dark bags circled under your eyes despite how often and how deeply you slept, and you seemed unable to carry anything heavier than what could fit in one of your woven baskets. There should’ve been another shrine keeper, if not several. And, if there could only be one, then it shouldn’t have been you.

Still, Scaramouche was glad that you had been chosen, even if you were a bad fit for the position. If it’d been anyone else, he would’ve had to get rid of them days ago, and he was thankful to be spared the effort.

“It’s not,” you said, consciously clipping his choice of words. You finished your rite with a deep bow, then turned to Scaramouche. “Shows of dedication make him happy.”

“He being…” His gaze drifted upward, to the fanged skull. Orobashi no Mikoto – the beast’s name provided by some nameless well of knowledge that seemed to linger in the space between the back of his throat and the pit of his chest. Consciously, the only title Scaramouche had ever thought to put to the serpent was that of ‘festering remains’. “…the fucking corpse?”

“If you keep using that kind of language, you might have to start sleeping outside.” You took up the basket of lavender melons you’d (admittedly, unwisely) left in his care, snatching it away before he could add to the small pile of black seeds stacked on his opposite side. Your hastiness left one of the rounder melons toppling over the well-worn edge, though, and he caught it with a single hand, grinning as he dug his teeth into the ripe flesh and claimed it for himself. You rolled your eyes, but quickly occupied yourself with clearing away yesterday’s fruit from the shrine. “It’s not complicated. We keep him happy, hold our rites and make our sacrifices, and he ensures that my crops grow quickly and the village prospers.” A pause, a smile thrown carelessly over your shoulder. You smiled as easily as you laughed, something that irritated Scaramouche to no end. “If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be recovering half as quickly as you are.”

Right. It was too easy to forget that there was a pretense to his time with you; that he was supposed to be some wayward, ailing traveler with a mysterious condition your charms and cures could only keep at bay. He wasn’t lying to you. All he did was lie back and let you fuss over his nonexistent pulse, the bloodless pallor of his skin, the way his temperature never seemed to rise above that of damp clay. He wasn’t like the Doctor – scheming and underhanded, prone to leading his victims in circles before gifting them with the mercy of a slow death – or the priestess he could only vaguely remember from his first days, all dark eyes and whispers of a merciful death. You liked doting on him, and he didn’t mind keeping his mouth shut.

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” He dug his teeth into the lavender melon as you gathered your things, sugary juice turning his lips tacky as he went on. “I’ve always been hard to kill.”

You came to stand above him, your smile small and eyes vaguely narrowed. “If you’re feeling that strong,” you started, holding your now-emptied basket in front of you. “Then you shouldn’t mind weeding the garden and fetching water, this afternoon.”

It only took him a moment to think to protest, but you were already gone, stumbling down the mountainside as he hastily pushed himself to his feet. He called your name, but he could already hear your voice – rising above his in one of your obnoxiously repetitive hymns and drowning him out as he chased after you.

~

The villagers welcomed you as sheep welcomed field dogs; from a distance.

Scaramouche trailed behind you as you plodded through the humble village, humming and clutching your basket close to your chest, fiddling nervously with the pure-white material of your sleeves. The crowd parted around you, twin walls of watchful eyes and hushed voices forming well-ahead of your path and collapsing as you strode past them, either unable or unwilling to acknowledge the thick silence that seemed to hang over you like a shroud. Occasionally, you’d stop at a stall or a doorway, handing off bundles of wrapped herbs to gloved and trembling hands, and less often, you’d send him a smile over your shoulder, your tired eyes wrinkling at the corners, as if apologizing that he had to come along for such a dull errand. That was how you described it, when he asked where you went off to every few days. ‘Just a quick errand,’ you’d said, as you tried to convince him to stay behind yet again. When he cited your poor health and his growing concern that he’d find you dead in that garden of yours one day, you didn’t waver. ‘You’ll only be bored if you come. The villagers aren’t very friendly.’

Scaramouche decided, mostly on a whim, that he would burn down this village before he returned to the Doctor. If he had time.

He moved to rush forward, to place himself at your side, but a hand shot out of a narrow alleyway and caught him by the wrist. It was a middle-aged blacksmith, judging by the ash smeared across his cheeks, the thick apron hanging from his neck. Scaramouche was quick to pull out of his filthy grasp, but he spoke regardless, his voice low and rough. “Mind your distance, boy.” A glance towards you, a deep sneer. “Don’t you know who that is?”

Scaramouche glanced over him, fighting the urge to scoff. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”

“That’s no healer, that’s the shrine maiden.” He said it as if he’d caught Scaramouche attempting to throw himself into a rifthound’s mouth. “They cultivate the serpent’s remains. You’ll be dead in a week if you—”

This time, Scaramouche was the one to reach out, his hand wrapping around the blacksmith’s neck. By instinct, a bolt of pure, searing electro shot from his palm into the man’s neck, leaving him limp and convulsing in Scaramouche’s hold. Scaramouche released him as the last of the aftershocks faded, watching him collapse to the ground before planting his heel on the man’s diaphragm, prepared to shift his weight and crush whatever laid below his foot should the blacksmith say something to displease him.

“I’ll ask again,” he said, slowly, ozone thick in the air. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”

~

Scaramouche returned to your cabin closer to sunrise than sunset. Somewhere, back in the village that he would see reduced to embers if it was his last act on the face of Teyvat, the charred remains of a blacksmith smoldered at the bottom of a stone well, and he opened the door to your ramshackle home with enough force to tear the rotted piece of wood from its hinges.

You were kneeling beside your work table, grinding dried lavender petals into a fine powder. He closed the space between you in a breath, knocked the pestle from your hand in another, then collapsed beside you. “You’re going to die?”

You eyed the spilled lavender wearily. “Even the archons will fall, eventually.”

He let out a ragged sob, burying his face in the dip of your shoulder. You allowed him to, your arms coming up to wrap loosely around him. You’d always been weak, but now, you seemed as feeble as a morning gale.

He was unable to speak, so you took up the mantle, tracing idle patterns into the base of his spine as you went on. “I know what they tell newcomers, about dead gods and their rot, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. He gifts us with herbs to cure our sick and soothe our elders and in return, someone sacrifices a few years. The villagers might not be able to linger, but they make sure I’m taken care of.” He felt you smile, heard you laugh. “So long as I get to help people, I don’t mind making sacrifices.”

“Other people don’t matter.” It took him longer than he cared to admit to pry himself away from you, to straighten his back and drag a deep breath into his aching lungs. He was thankful, not for the first time, that he couldn’t cry. You would only think him irrational if he fell apart so visibly. “How long do you have?”

Your head lulled to the side, your attention drifting to some indistinguishable point on the far wall. “Only the gods can say what fate has—”

“How long?”

“…another year.” Your tone carried a sort of detached acceptance, as if you couldn’t summon the energy to care. “Maybe two. The last caretaker was very fortunate – he survived half a decade in his position.”

He tried to speak, to scream at you for not telling him sooner, but his voice caught in his throat and you reached up, cupping his face in both hands. Slowly, with a dry chuckle, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. The cool porcelain of his skin sapped the warmth from yours, but for once, you didn’t seem to mind his unusual anatomy. “I hope I’ll be able to cure you, before I’m gone.” You were mumbling, now, speaking barely above your breath. “Do you think you’ll be able to stay for a little longer?”

He tried to answer, but you’d fallen asleep on top of him by the time he opened his mouth.

~

He left the next morning, while you were still tucked underneath a small pile of furs and quilts. A letter was penned and sent to the Doctor’s base, a caddy of wildflower seeds purchased from a young girl peddling wares by the side of the road, and he returned to your cabin just as your sleep turned restless. When you rose an hour past noon, he pestered you into taking him to the groove near the shoreline. By the time you returned, chiding him for distracting you from your responsibilities and pointedly ignoring the basket full of fruit at your hip, the sun was low in the sky and masked soldiers had stamped your garden into the ground. Your cabin was in flames and your shrine had been reduced to little more than a pillar of smoke in the distance.

Whatever concern you might’ve held for him was immediately forgotten. Dropping your basket, you moved to run towards the embers of your home, but Scaramouche caught you – one hand on your shoulder, another on your waist. Careful not to break what couldn’t be repaired, he forced you onto your knees, letting you scratch at his wrists as you screamed, the noise anguished and ragged. Masked soldiers gathered in the outskirts of his vision, but he bared his teeth, keeping them at a distance as you thrashed in his steadfast hold. Once he took you somewhere else, somewhere better, you’d be able to calm down.

Once he got you away from your rotting god and your unthankful village, you’d be able to worship something worth your time.

A moment passed, then another. Finally, the Doctor emerged from the crowd, his white coat unmarred by the ash in the air. He regarded you with a grin, then looked to Scaramouche. “This is the filthy toy you’d like to take home?”

It was a foolish question, undeserving of an answer. Scaramouche countered with one of his own. “Can you fix them?”

“Can I save a human being who’s been brought to the brink of death and infected thoroughly with the rot of divine remains?” The Doctor hummed, clicked his tongue. “That depends, little puppet. How much time are you willing to spend on my vivisection table?”

Scaramouche glowered, but he didn’t protest. Rather, he pulled you close – your crying softer, now, your struggling impossibly weak – and held you against his chest as he responded. “Do what you have to. They’ll be staying in my chambers, and you won’t lay a hand on them without my permission, doctor.”

“I do wish you could call me Dottore.” He sighed, shaking his head. His acquiescence was communicated with a dismissive roll of his wrist, a silent order communicated to his lackeys. His soldiers moved to take you up, but he kept you in his arms as he pushed himself back to his feet, letting you cling to and beat against his chest in tandem.

Your voice was hoarse, your shoulders trembling. Tears streamed freely from your eyes, and he allowed himself to wonder how poorly you would take it if he ran his tongue over your cheeks. “You— You monster. Hundreds of people will—"

“You said you wanted to stay with me, right?” His smile wasn’t as soft as yours, as comforting, but he did what he could. You let out another agonized sob, crumbling against him as he let his lips ghost over your forehead, speaking against your skin and above your wordless cries.

“Now, there’ll be nothing in the world capable of taking you away from me.”

would you like a new home? (pt. 3.2)

forethoughts: i maxxed out arlecchino to lvl 90 🤩. rip all my fragile resins.

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

Arlecchino was working when the caretaker had entered her office. She suppressed her disdain and annoyance as she asked the caretaker what was so important her work time had to be disrupted.

Arlecchino immediately stood up and stormed towards the caretaker when she heard your name.

“Y/N had gotten in a fight with another child? Two children?” Arlecchino pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowed. The caretaker elaborated more, handing her two distinct blades, one stained with blood.

“We have them in their room right now. The other two is in the infirmary. How would a child get their hands on such dangerous objects?” The caretaker commented, as Arlecchino took both blades, clutching both helms with one hand.

“I will deal with this.” Arlecchino walked out of her office, marching towards the infirmary. After all, you could use some more time to reflect before you would meet her.

You sat on your bed, knees to your chest and head on your knees as you stared at the wall. Father’s broken compass was next to you, the needle finally taking a rest. You could imagine the children outside gossiping and decreasing your odds of ever making friends in this hellhole of an orphanage. How you had injured the most popular kid. 

Father made sure you knew not to care about what the others said about you. And you didn’t at all.

Father.

How was Father taking in the information?

Surely Father was already informed about the fight. 

Your heart sank a little when you tried to imagine how Father was feeling. The betrayal. The hurt. The shock that you had used your new toys Father had only taught you on one of your ‘kin’. Perhaps the boy was right. In the end of the day Father might as well revoke everything she had given you. Including this room.

The sound of the doorknob twisting open shattered your confidence and determination you had about the fight, the sounds of Father’s heel clicking against the marble ground sending spiders down your spine. You felt a dip in the mattress being created, as Father sat down next to you, mere inches away. Father sat there, observing your hunched figure with a stoic expression in the deafening silence. You heard her pick up her broken compass-the gift she had given you to take care of. And it was completely shattered.

“...I’m sorry.” You murmured, breaking the silent barrier. “I tried to stop them from breaking it.”

Father let out a chuckle. “Anything that can break will break. Some can be fixed, some cannot.” 

You felt Father’s eyes pierce your skull, causing your gaze to fall even lower. To your surprise, a hand was placed on your head, combing through your hair. You were shuffled closer to Father’s body, until your shoulder touched hers. “How are you feeling, dear? Are you alright?”

Father was… comforting you? 

Your shoulders relaxed a little, but they were still stiff.

“I-I’m… okay.”

“Did they hurt you in any way?” You bit your lips, the conversation one of the orphans had with you while their foot was on your head was still fresh in your mind.

“Yes…” You mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve.

Father noticed-of course she did-, and placed her hand in yours, rubbing small circles on your palm.

“How so?”

You looked down. “...They started it.”

“Okay.” Father said calmly. “How so? And do look at me when you do.”

You reluctantly lifted your head, meeting Father’ surprisingly warm and calm gaze. “I was admiring the compass you had given me. And then one of them tripped me and took the compass and started playing with it. The other one shoved me and placed his feet on my head and pressed it down.”

You swore you saw Father’s eye twitch at your last sentence. 

“The one pressing my head against the ground told me I had to ask you to have a smaller room, no dessert, last in line and an earlier curfew than the other orphans.” You spat each word out with poison. “They threatened to break Father’s compass if I did not do what they said. He shoved me first and attacked me. Father said if I was attacked first I could use my toys. So I did. I tried talking to them first but they wouldn’t listen. I did what Father said to do before I used my toys.”

Father remained silent, as her hand brushed over the area the boy had stepped on your head. “Does your head hurt now?”

“A-A little… b-but it's nothing…” 

Father ignored your comment, as she lifted your body so you were on her lap. She examined the area the boy stepped on. Placing a single finger on the area was enough to make you shiver, the corners of your eyes burn and tears threatening to fall.

“My poor child…” Father sighed, wrapping her arms around your frail body.

Now your tears were really threatening to fall. “I-I’m sorry for using my new toys on the other orphans… I’m sorry for disobeying Father’s rule… I promise it won’t happen again. F-Father can take away my room a-and move me back to that room w-with the other orphans, put me last in line for food and give me an earlier curfew. I’ll take it without complaint. I d-deserve it for disappointing Father.”

“Nonsense, my child.” Father placed her fingers on your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes. She moved her hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with a gentle wipe of her thumb. “None of those things will happen. I will not punish you for acting in self defense. I am not disappointed in you for trying to defend yourself.”

“B-But-”

“No buts. What happened has happened. You are hurt; they are hurt. Adding more pain and suffering to one side of the scale will not make it balanced nor just.” Father’s lips turned into a thin smile, as she let out a sigh. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, okay? It has been a long day for you.”

Father lifted you up in her arms, cradling you as she carried you to what you could only assume to be her private bathroom, seeing she had walked past the showering hall. 

“Father…?” You hesitantly asked.

“Yes, my dear?”

“...Why did you give me all those perks? A new room, first in line, no curfew?”

Father let out a sigh. “Even looking back I do not understand why I had the urge to do all those for you. I suppose it was because I was concerned and worried about you, my child. I could not bear to watch you sit alone and always get the last pick for everything. I could not bear to sit in the sidelines and watch you try and hold your tears back as you watched dust move across the ground. I could not bear to watch the other children treat you like filth when you were the kindness out of all. I believed that giving you some perks would help make your stay more… comfortable.”

Father paused. “Has it… made your stay more comfortable?”

You looked at the ground, your head resting on Father’s shoulder. “A little…”

Father let out a chuckle. “Better than none.”

Father carried you to her private bathroom, setting you down in the tub as she lathered soap across your back and body, washing your hair. Her touch was delicate and gentle, never lingering in one spot for too long or applying a large amount of pressure. Father dried you with one of her towels, dressing you in silk pajamas before carrying you back to your room. You found it hard to believe. You had injured two of Father’s children, and yet while they were in the infirmary, legs immobilized, you were wearing silk pajamas, being washed by Father, and coddled all along the way.

As Father laid you down in bed, brushing your hair one last time and planting a kiss on your forehead, you couldn’t help but ask.

“Why does Father treat me so well? Father w-wouldn’t do any of this for the others, would she?” You blurted out.

Father chuckled at your question, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards. “Perhaps it is true I treat you much differently and better than the rest. Perhaps I do have a sense of favoritism towards you. Perhaps it is because I see a part of me in you. No matter. Soon, my dear child, all of this will be over. I will deal with this. Do not worry about the other two children. Get some rest, my child, and all will be well. I will be coming back shortly to deliver you dinner.”

Father walked away, turning off the lights in your room as she shut the door. You laid there on your bed, her words echoing in your head. Father saw herself in you? Your little mind didn’t know how to think about that.

But all you knew was that Father cared for you.

Father loved you. 

Father was not mad. 

Father said everything will be better.

So everything will be better.

Hello! i absolutely love your work <33 can i request sagau scaramouche rates your taste in genshin boys pt 2. with diluc, kaeya and zhongli??

SAGAU SCARAMOUCHE RATES YOUR TASTE IN GENSHIN MEN PT. 2

❀ synopsis: you introduce your friend/unofficial sibling to your lover, what could possibly go wrong? everything...

❀ notes: AJNDJNEHBFH MY FIRST REQUEST!!! thank you so much for the support and reblogs, I'm also very honored you like my writing! here's the first part

❀ pronouns: none specified

Diluc Ragnvindr: 2/10

Diluc is this 🤏 close to receiving a 1/10 if he continues to invade you and Scaramouche's sibling bonding time. Obviously, the two don't get along (and will probably never get along) due to Diluc's past and Scara's trust issues, the two argue a lot about you while you're just there vibing with the lamp grass unaware of the commotion.

He's heard of it all, the youngest Cavalry Captain who left the Knights to pursue Monstadt's enemies alone. He'd sometimes use his knowledge of Diluc's past to provoke him, and boy does it provoke him. The two went into a full-blown fistfight at one point, with the occasional use of a vision since their weapons have been thrown aside by the other.

Scaramouche is clingy to the ones who stay by his side, and Diluc is protective of the ones he loves, so you can imagine what it was like when Diluc saw you walking along with Scaramouche (who Diluc knows as the Balladeer, the 6th harbinger of the Fatui) when you told him that you would be introducing a very close friend of yours. It started with Diluc carrying you on his shoulder and running away, with a wild Scaramouche on his tail. And ended with Diluc being treated by Barbara and Scaramouche being treated by Nahida.

You really have to manage your time here, the two won't ever get along and if you spend more time with the other, the one you didn't spend time with will go visit the other and start demanding that they leave you alone. Diluc would wonder how you could ever tolerate and even care for Scaramouche, whatever your reason is he wouldn't be able to understand. Scaramouche would ask when will you break up with Diluc, and would pout if you reply that you wouldn't break up with him.

Kaeya: 3/10

Just right next to Venti, and he would soon be ranked right next to his brother if Kaeya doesn't learn to shut the fuck up-

Arrogant, lazy, and a teasing prick. How many more traits can Kaeya have to piss people off? Scaramouche already looks down on humans, and seeing Kaeya with you disgusts him as he believes you deserve so much better. their first impressions of each other were bad, you can feel the tension in the air when the two just stood there with fake smiles.

He hates it when Kaeya tags along in your travels, even insisting on helping the both of you with your journeys when he has free time. Scaramouche would make a passive-aggressive comment on how the two of you don't need his help, and that you are both capable of defending each other. if you agreed to Kaeya joining Scaramouche would be appalled, before turning around so no one can see the expression on his face. Why did you agree??

The two are in a contest with how much they're provoking each other. If the other one breaks and lash out, the one who didn't wins. Their words to each other are sharp, and even when they're having a decent conversation with the other it's only when you're around, and even then it has slight undertones and hidden threats. Good lord, I hope you have a lot of patience.

Zhongli/Rex Lapis/Morax: 4/10

You know that situation where someone's little sister is dating a boy and the big brother tries to be intimidating but the boy she's dating is taller and stronger than the big brother. Yeah that's the situation Scaramouche is in, but you are not a little girl nor is Zhongli just a human boy.

He's very annoyed with the situation, he's supposed to be the reliable one! What is this skyscraper of a man doing here?! Ngl he might be a tad bit insecure with the situation and would be at arm's length around you the entire time Zhongli was around the both of you. After the first few weeks of introducing him to Zhongli Scaramouche would notice just how pathetic this man is for you, and would find it amusing to watch.

Though it would soon turn to annoyance when Zhongli slowly starts dedicating all his time to you and going as far as to do his paperwork right next to you. This pet of yours is slowly turning into a pest, and he wants to get rid of it immediately. Zhongli would notice how Scaramouche is excluding him from your travels and would confront him about it in private. After the confrontation the atmosphere between the two became suffocating.

The only thing holding back Zhongli from throwing an entire mountain at the child was the fact that you and Scaramouche have a bond similar to siblings. The two of you insult each other but it never held any sort of ill-intent, and you both travel together frequently. Zhongli would rather die than be hated by you, and killing/hurting Scaramouche is a one-way ticket to being hated. So for now, he would just try to spend as much time with you, even if it means being next to the purple haired brat.

Platonic Yandere Lyney Thoughts

Just a little think piece abt what I think Lyney would be like as a yandere, and what I think would make a him a yandere. Small Lynette cameo. Repost cause the last one disappeared so sorry. PT 2 here!

cw: soft yandere, kidnapping, child!reader, gn!reader

Platonic and soft Yandere Lyney who really wants to feel like a good big brother. His siblings are both House of Hearth members, doing dirty work for the Fatui, so he knows he failed somewhat with them. But you?

The adorable little street rat that sneaks into the crowd to watch his shows, wide eyed and amazed? Who jumps and can’t help but giggle when he shows off even the simplest of card tricks? You just look so… starved. Like a baby bird without a nest. Easy to scoop up and take home.

He wanted to be your savior. The one who you look up at with admiration, amazement. “How did you do that, Mister Lyney!”

In front of you, he didn’t feel like a mistake of a brother that failed to save his siblings from this life.

If only you just came home with him. Every time he offered dinner, or invited you around to watch a new magic trick of his, you refused. He supposed he couldn’t be mad, stranger danger and all that. He knew better than anyone else. As days passed and he continued to watch you hungry, searching for scraps while he had a house full of food. It broke him.

Maybe thats why he followed you back to your little hideout.

You didn’t notice, after all, what match was a street rat against a master of diversion? The hideout was tucked in a thin alleyway, hardly wider than him, behind some shops not too far from home. The rooftops of the nearby buildings shielded you from the rain as you huddled in what could only be described as a nest—formed from ratty old blankets and the rare trinket or clothing item you undoubtedly stole.

Lyney sighed, gathering you up in the dirty quilt you clutched and holding you in his arms. “Lighter than you should be… poor thing. I’m taking you home now kid.”

You didn’t move, just laid in his arms, but he hoped warm glow of his pyro vision was soothing to your freezing body.

Lynette was awake when he came through the door, you in his arms. Immediately, her sharp eyes fell to the child in his arms, and she just sighed. “I suppose this is what you set the guest bedroom up for?”

“Oh come on Lynette.” He said, an edge of excitement in his hushed tone. “I couldn’t just leave them. Anyone could have come by and snatched them up!”

“Evidently, someone did. You.”

“They’ll be better off with us.”

“They don’t know that. They won’t. For months, even. Are you prepared for that?” Lynnette said, sighing when Lyney nodded. “Oh well, you seemed so set on this. I installed key operated locks on the windows throughout the house while you were away. You already did but I figured everywhere would be more helpful in case they escape their room before they’ve settled.”

All at once, Lyney untensed, a look of pure relief washing over his face. He honestly didn’t know what he’d do had Lynette rejected their new sibling.

“Thank you Lynnette, you’re always such a help.” He smiled over his shoulder at her as he carried you to off your new bedroom.