"where Are You Going?"

would you like some cake? (pt 2)

forethoughts: if you want to read part one it's would you like some new toys :D. i'm literally going to go home in a few hours and pull for arlecchino i'm so excited so happy so on adrenaline i can't ahhhh

notes: gn!child!reader, but fem!reader in mind. NOT AN X READER, READER IS A CHILD!!!

You don’t remember when was the last time you stepped foot in the playroom again. Father said she would take you to a different playroom, away from the others. You spent every day in that new playroom with Father. Father always gave you an option to go back. The door was always wide open. Distant sounds of the other children laughing and cheering rang in your ears. 

Father said you were getting better day by day. Much more used to your new toys. Father even allowed you to bring your toys with you everywhere. One inside your boots, one strapped to your belt. Father even allowed you to bring one to your room. 

Your room. Instead of the room you shared with the others, Father had moved you. Closer to her office. You have your own room now. Father had decorated it herself, she said. The mattress felt like three of the mattresses in your old room stacked upon each other. The room made you feel tiny. Alone. But Father was always there. Father was always with you.

Father said you were almost as skilled as the guards that stood outside the orphanage. 

Father was proud.

Father was proud of you.

Father always read you bedtime stories. Tucked you in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before turning off the lights. Father always taught you to not listen to what the other children said. That the only person you should be listening to is her and yourself. 

You don’t remember when was the last time you felt eyes casted on you and words piercing your heart when you ate your meals. You still ate your meals in the hall with the other children; Father was adamant that you would still have some interaction with the others. But you didn’t care. 

Father made sure you knew your worth. 

~

Using your chopsticks, you fished up a bundle of noodles, putting it in your spoon and then in your mouth. You chewed, and then fished up another bundle of noodles. The children behind your back were loud and rowdy as usual. Father said to pay no mind to them. This time was different.

They were talking about Father.

It was Father’s birthday tomorrow. 

Father was always secretive and didn’t reveal much about herself. They were planning on surprising her with a big party in the playroom. Of course, you weren’t part of it.

Father was always there for you, you thought. Never shy from giving you gifts and words of advice on the days you needed them. 

You stood up from your seat, carrying your empty udon bowl to the sinks, giving it a quick rinse before putting it on the racks. You walked out of the hall, letting your feet take you where your mind wanted to go.

You closed the door to your new room, taking a seat behind your desk as you took out two sheets of paper, and some crayons Father had gifted you. While the rest played and had fun, you were in your room, scribbling away as best as you could with your black crayon. With your second piece of paper, you took out more colors from the box.

Father was always there for you.

You’d be a bad kid if you didn’t do the same, right?

The other’s idea of a celebration was tricking Father to go to the playroom, then cheering and singing happy birthday to Father while they played with Father. That meant that Father was unavailable to give you your daily lessons on how to properly play with your new toys. Fortunately you were busy too.

You entered the kitchen the moment you heard everyone else chant happy birthday in all different keys, the wide empty space with high workstations and cabinets sending doubt into your head. You shook it away, closing the door behind you with two hands, before taking a small tour around the space you would work with. Seeing that dinner was just served, all the cooks were done, leaving you a window of time to carry out your plan. Using a nearby stepping stool, you climbed onto the counters, reaching the high cabinets that were attached to the roof. Just as fate intended it to be a cooking book fell onto your lap, flipped to the page you wanted to go on. You closed the cabinet door, placing the cooking book by your side as you placed your boots on the stepping stool. 

Father said you were good at looking for what you needed.

Father said you were good at doing what you wanted to do.

You prayed Father was right.

With the big book set on one counter, you scurried around the kitchen, gathering all the required ingredients and items you needed next to the book. You found two more stepping stools, allowing you to move around on each stool like different stations. 

Father said your academic level was higher than the rest; you were doing exams meant for ten year olds.

“Pour… flour… in a bowl…” You muttered, finger on each word. You did as the instructions said, scooping out some flour and dumping it into a bowl.

“Egg…Sugar…Mix… Bake…”

For the rest of the day, you buried yourself in work, making what they called a ‘batter’. You had nearly dropped your hard made batter when you had to place the mold inside the oven, a new lesson learnt the hard way. After as much time as the book said, you took the mold out, this time wearing the funny shaped gloves on top of the counter next to the oven. With all your strength, you lifted the baked circular batter into a cart, before wheeling the cart back to your workstation. As the batter was baking, you had prepared a frosting, as they called it. Using a flat rectangle shaped object that had its corners rounded out, you spread the frosting over the top of the cake, before adding a fresh cherry to the top. 

The celebration had stopped. 

You heard Father’s voice tell the children it was time for bed. You gripped onto the counter, trying not to get shaken by the earthquake created by the hoard of orphans storming up to their room. Holding your breath, you waited until you couldn’t hear Father’s footsteps anymore, before letting out a sigh. You placed your finished cake on a pretty plate, using two hands to hold each side before exiting the kitchen.

~

You let out a deep breath, looking at the gold and crimson ornate double door in front of you. With the papers in your pocket, cake in hand, you used your shoulder to turn the doorknob, stumbling into Father’s office. 

“Y/N?” Father. You turned around, facing Father. Father was behind her desk, hand moving from her forehead to her chin as she looked at you with a playful grin. Since your back was still turned to her, she couldn’t see the cake you made.

“I was worried sick about you, my dear. I didn’t see you at the celebration the others held for me.” Father chuckled. “Where were you? Not even the caretakers or workers could find you.”

You opted to not answer her question, rather hobble your way over to Father’s desk with your little legs. You placed your creation on the same place Father had set you when you got injured. Father looked at the cake, her eyebrows raised as she tried to conceal the grin that was spreading on her face. She pointed at the candle that was stabbed into the cake next to the cherry with her index finger, and the wick was instantly lit on fire. 

“U-Umm…. I overheard it was Father’s birthday… so I wanted to do something special for Father…” You mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve as you tried to maintain eye contact with her. “I-I made you a cake. I t-tried my best. Would Father care to try my cake?”

Father let out a chuckle, looking at you with a soft and warm gaze. “You made a cake? All for me?”

“I-I wrote a c-card too…” You pulled the card and the second piece of paper out of your pocket, placing it next to the cake.

“Y/N… I…” Father chuckled, the corners of her mouth reaching her eyes. You’d never seen her look at you like this. Yes, she was always happy and cheerful. But never this much. Even as she tried to conceal it, you had spent enough time with her to know that she was feeling much more than a simple grin. 

“Of course I would love to try your cake.” Father took the fork that was placed next to the cake, digging out a portion of your creation before putting it in her mouth. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer in her eyes. She took another bite, nodding her head and smiling at you.

“D-Does Father like it?” You asked with a worried tone. 

“I love it, my dear.” Father hummed, forking out another chunk of your cake, putting the fork in front of your mouth. “Why don’t you try your own creation?”

“But it’s Father’s cake.”

“I insist.”

“O-Okay.” You wrapped your mouth around the fork, chewing on the cake you made. A smile crept on your face as you swallowed the bite. Thank the gods you had actually made food and not poison.

“Come here, my child.” Father patted on her laps. You walked around her desk, climbing on her laps as you looked up at her. She continued to spoon feed herself and you, wiping away any crumbs on your lips with her finger.

“H-Happy Birthday, Father.” You exclaimed.

“Thank you, my dear Y/N.” Father smiled at you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “I loved it, my little cook. This was the best birthday present ever.”

You could feel serotonin rush through your body. “R-Really?”

“Yes! Why would I ever lie to you, my dear?” Father hummed. “Thank you for such a wonderful birthday gift, my dear.”

~

Arlecchino sat on her chair, a sigh exiting her mouth as she looked at the card you had written, as well as the piece of paper. She had read a quick bedtime story to you, tucking you into bed before going back to her office. Arlecchino opened the letter, as the words entered her heart, fueling that flame of hers she carried and protected.

“Father,

haqqy dirthbay. I hoqe you hab a goob bay anb are haqqy. thank you for everything you bo for me. i really like my new toys.

Y/N.”

To the stranger I knew too well

Summary: When your recurrent dreams about a puppet become out of hand, a reality check feels like the only way to get back to normalcy. Fate proves you wrong.

Pairing: Wanderer & gn!reader (post Irminsul), the relationship is heavily implied to be platonic

Content warnings: Reader is gender neutral, mentions of blood and murders but I don't go into details, slight angst, Wanderer is bad with feelings, platonic content

Word count: 7.2k | Soulmate AU

Comments: A special thank to my beta @ladyfocalors for always brainrotting with me about Genshin characters. We'll platonify the Genshin soulmate AU one work at the time /lh

It took you years to understand that your frequent lucid dreams about an Inazuman electricity-wielder leader were actually the memories of your soulmate.

To your parents' defense, every normal individual would have dismissed the idea. While your soulmate wearing an extravagant hat wasn’t impossible, your tales about a place shrouded in darkness and an Electro-user without a Vision sounded like a child's fantasy. There was no such thing in Teyvat.

You quickly got the reputation of an imaginative kid. Adults liked to ask you about your dreams.

"What a smart child you are!", they cooed once you finished recalling your visions. "You could write a storybook!"

Your younger self would shoot them the dirtiest glare they could muster. Unfortunately, adding that the protagonist was a puppet made hundreds of years ago was not the convincing argument you thought it was. To the layperson, your visions were nonsensical dreams.

But you knew what you saw. It felt real. Terribly, shockingly real. Most often that not, you woke up from these flashes with the taste of iron in your mouth, static filling your sight, your muscles locked into place. You were trapped in your own unresponsive body. Even your breath was stuck in your throat. But the worst part of your awakenings was the sticky feeling on your hands. No matter how many times you scrubbed, it lingered on your skin. You didn't know what it was at that time, just that it made you feel gross and that it would sometimes reappear if you washed your hands hard enough.

You learnt what blood was before you knew how to spell the color red. 

When one is repeatedly told that they're wrong, they will come to believe it. You were no exception. As the years passed by, you pushed those fantasies in the back of your mind. The adults in your life must have been right. You were just a strange kid with gruesome dreams, that was all.

Despite knowing that they were figments of your vivid imagination, the sights of snow-covered plains and bloody massacres haunted you well into adulthood. They had grown more complex. Details you didn’t notice as a child seemed obvious now that you had more experience. You could also recall conversations better. That’s how you learnt the name of the body you inhabited. Well, it was more correct to say you learnt multiple names for them. Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche, the Balladeer... It was like you could never make up your mind.

The puppet you temporarily inhabited was as elusive as the wind: no fixed name to call them and no face to match. They fled mirrors when they saw one, preventing you from seeing their appearance. The only thing you knew about them was their title: number Sixth of the Fatui Harbinger. A seat that was left vacant for centuries according to every Fatuus you asked.

Your constant daydreaming was annoying but manageable until you started having visions about Kunikuzushi taking over Sumeru. You saw them getting experimented on to become one with a robot, wincing in pain at the hands of a masked doctor, rambling about their birth-given right to access godhood, taunting a blonde traveler; a chain of events that could only make sense in a dream. The problem was that your reverie was affecting your daily life. You couldn’t go through a day without getting assailed by memories that weren’t yours. You had to stop halfway through any task, discussing became hard and sleep rarely came to you.

There was little you could do as you didn’t know what had worsened your visions. You were hoping it would go away by itself.

That was until a particularly haunting dream. As usual, you were but a spectator seeing through the Balladeer’s eyes. You saw a hand -their hand- reach for a chess piece, leaning forward as much as they could. Your blood went cold. They were about to fall over the edge of the platform! Your gaze darted everywhere. There was nothing on the distant ground that would break their fall. For the first time in your life, you realized that they could die. Scaramouche, the one you had observed for decades, could die.

You were the only one to realize how far they were leaning. They only had eyes for the violet pawn in front of them, begging and begging with a shaky voice. It had never sounded so frail, so raw with hurt and panic.

"Please, anything but the Gnosis!" 

It’s not worth it! you tried to scream. Stop! You didn't know why this Gnosis was so important to them but it was nothing dying for. Alas, no matter how hard you tried to move your mouth, the body refused to answer to you. You were nothing but a witness of a tragic scene, a powerless ghost with a bleeding heart. Your throat was thick with emotions you were not allowed to express.

Your dream ended in a snap, quite literally. A tearing sound erupted from behind you before you were sent falling down, pain flaring in your back. You bit down a scream as the world turned to blurry shades of blue and fluttering black bangs. The increasing speed made your eyes water and your body burn. You clenched your teeth. The fall was inevitable. Maybe it made you a coward but you couldn't bear to see it. You didn’t want to see Kunikuzushi die. Muttering an apology to the stranger in your dreams, you squeezed your teary eyes shut. 

The last thing you heard was a wet crushing sound, a mix between eggshells broken under the palm of your hand and a fruit being squashed. Your body jolted in your bed and you gagged, fighting the urge to throw up. You had never felt this sick. Not even when you dreamt of unfair massacres.

You sank to the floor, furiously wiping away the tears beading in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't do it anymore. You had to confront your dreaming problem. There was only one solution: if your brain was so adamant on obsessing over an imaginary character, you had to show it the harsh reality, to remind yourself that Kabukimono never existed.

Your trip to Sumeru was the most spontaneous project you ever planned. You were strolling through the busy streets of Sumeru city the very next day with barely enough money to get back to your nation. You had packed the bare minimum in your suitcase to carry it easily, meaning you wouldn’t be able to stay for more than just a few days.

That was, if you found a room for the night. You had no time to check what the usual prices were in the capital before leaving. Now that you were scouring the streets with your meager funds, unable to find a hotel within your budget, you were bitterly regretting your lack of foresight. You sighed. You supposed that the saying was right. Slow and steady wins the race.

As if it had felt your determination dwindling, the crushing sound echoed in your mind in response. You bit your lip, bile rising in your throat. You hadn't been able to forget about your last dream. It looped in your head like a broken record. Even if impulsively leaving your country was one of your worst ideas ever, the quicker you settled your daydream problem the sooner you'd be back to your normal life. 

Your weary steps lead you to an indoor bazaar. The smell of fried food filled your nostrils, making your stomach growl. You winced. The small homemade sandwich you had earlier couldn't compete with the appeal of street food. Unfortunately you needed to save your funds for a room. You let your gaze wander in the crowded marketplace, trying to distract yourself from the appetizing smell. Colorful stalls were full of fresh fruits, potted flowers and intricate trinkets. If you stood on your toes, you could even see a small theater representation in the farthest part of the bazaar. It was a lively place that perfectly encapsulated Sumeru’s charm.

You were about to turn back when your eyes stopped on a blue silhouette near a candy stand. You didn't know how you missed them earlier. In the brown and green crowd, their traditional clothing and their ornamented Inazuman hat stuck out like a sore thumb. They were in deep discussion with the merchant. Turquoise fabric trailed behind them, floating in the wind.

Without a second thought, you cut through the crowd, never leaving the stranger from your sight. Your heart leaped in your chest when they left the small stall. 

"Hey, you with the hat! Stop!" you yelled. To your dismay, the Inazuman did not even slow down. They must have been too far to hear you. Breaking into a sprint, you called again. "Hat guy!" 

You breached the distance in a few seconds. Just as you were about to grab their shoulder, they turned around. A cold hand snatched your wrist, making you wince. When you looked at its owner, you were greeted with a deep scowl and narrowed indigo eyes. 

"Don't." The man’s low voice warned you, his tone full of unspoken threats. You swallowed uncomfortably as your confidence melted away. He managed to be intimidating in spite petite stature and youthful appearance.

As he glared daggers at you, you were hit by a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You pressed your lips together, studying his messy black mullet and his glowing Anemo Vision. The word popped up in your head. Familiar. The stranger felt familiar.

Wiping the feeling of déjà-vu from your mind, you retreated your hand. "Sorry, I was just trying to get your attention." 

"Well, now you have it," he huffed. Annoyance was written on his face. He crossed his arms. "What do you want?" 

A good question, but not one you had an answer to. Running after the man was a spur of the moment decision.

Self-awareness striked you like a thunderbolt. Why were you even doing this? Your goal was to cure your daydreaming, not to throw yourself headfirst into the rabbit hole nor to annoy a stranger with the tales of an imaginary character.

He clicked his tongue. "Hurry. I don't have all day." 

You huffed. It was true that you were taking too much time to gather your thoughts but he didn’t have to be rude about it. 

"I'm looking for someone,” you said tentatively. It was the closest you could get from the truth without annoying him. Considering his foul mood, the stranger would have walked away if you told him you were looking for the lack of existence of Kunikuzushi, the Sixth Harbinger, the person who tried to become an Archon, someone that only existed in your mind.

The man didn't answer, encouraging you to continue with a movement on the head. His black bangs flew in the light breeze. Now that you had a clearer view of his face, the man seemed more bored than irritated. He wanted the conversation to be over with but he still had the patience to hear you out. This realization gave you the courage you needed to talk again. 

"Their clothes are quite similar to yours, but they're red and black. They also have a hat. A huge one." You opened your arms in emphasis.

He scrunched his brows together, looking at you like you were an idiot. "Right. Because the length of their hat is the most important detail you could give me," he deadpanned. 

You fight the urge to sigh. "I wasn't done. I don't know much about them, but they're linked to the Fatui." The stranger's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was back to glaring at you, his face closed. Unsettled by this sudden tension, you quickly added. "Probably. I'm still not sure about that." There was no Sixth Fatui Harbinger, after all. Your brain had made it up. 

"Of course." His voice was drier than earlier. What little interest he had in your discussion had melted at the mention of the Fatui. You scrunched your brows. You swore you could read another emotion than ire in his eyes, even if you didn’t know what. "Anything else I should know about that... Friend of yours?"

You racked your brain for more details. There was a lot to say about the person in your dream. Their lack of heart, their coup attempt in Sumeru, their bloody killings, the experimentations they underwent... Nothing you could talk about in public without looking crazy, in sum. The only thing you could still mention was... 

"Their name is Scaramouche."

The man went rigid. "What did you say?" he gawked, his eyes wide with shock.

"Scaramouche. I think that's their name?" Truthfully, they were given so many names that it probably wasn't their real one. But it was the one that came up most in your dreams. 

As if it caught onto the tense atmosphere, the wind abruptly stopped blowing. You barely noticed it, focused on the horror shining in the man's eyes. He couldn't believe what you had just said. His piercing eyes analyzed every inch of you with a newfound distrust. 

“Nobody should be able to-” He interrupted himself with a gasp. Recognition flashed across his face. "Wait. You...!"

His face went from surprise to disgust in the blink of an eye. You had barely the time to react before he pulled his hat down over his head, his scowl peeking from behind the rim.

"Of course fate would string something like this..." He let out a bitter laugh. "Has it ever made anything easy for me?"

You watched as crossed his arms, lifting his head to glare at you as if you had purposely wronged him. You tried to appease him by apologizing. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

Despite your question, you knew you had done nothing worth this cold attitude. You didn’t know why he was overreacting, why he was looking at you like dirt under his soles.  It’s as if he was personally offended by your description of the Balladeer. You blinked as pieces fell into place. An Inazuman with a strange hat and dark hair, just like the one you were looking for. Could it be…?

"Is that you? Are you Scaram—" 

The man turned around before you could finish your sentence, the blue fabric tied to his hat smacking you in the face. You yelped in pain.

"Don’t use this name." You couldn't see what kind of expression he was making but his flat tone told you enough.

You were standing in front of the protagonist of your dreams.

Reality shattered around you. There were only two reasons for your dreams to be visions of the past. You either were a seer —which was unlikely considering you had no elemental affinity— or you were using your soulmate link. Realization sank in. You had a soulmate. Everything finally clicked together: why you had Scaramouche's memories, why he recognized you, why you never stopped having those dreams… It was because the universe had deemed you a perfect fit.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. You were not an anomaly without a soulmate, like you were led to believe. You just didn't pay attention to the signs.

"Wait a minute," you gasped. No matter how happy you were about your discovery, it came a lot of terrible implications. "Does it mean that everything is real? The Fatui, the taking over Sumeru part, everything ?" 

Kunikuzushi immediately clammed up. Not even bothering to look at you, he said without a trace of emotion. "This conversation is over."

Strong wind currents flared all around you with him acting as the epicenter of the small storm he invoked. You stared at him with wide eyes. He was getting away! 

"Please!"

You grabbed his sleeve and tugged hard, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The man gave you the dirtiest glare from above his shoulder as the miniature hurricane intensified. But you didn't let him go. You sank your nails deeper into his arm.

"Listen to me!” you said through gritted teeth. “I'm not gonna pretend I know everything about you because that's not true. I only know glimpses of you. Parts of your past that don't make any sense." 

You closed your eyes as the memories flooded your mind. The Gnosis, the laboratory, the crushing sound as he fell down... You didn't understand what those events meant to him. What kind of story they told. It was like you were in front of an incomplete puzzle where all edge pieces went missing. It was impossible to get the big picture no matter how many combinations you tried.

That didn’t mean the little bits of memories you had taught you nothing about him.

"You were hurt. That much is certain."

Your words only rekindled the fire of his ire. He bared his teeth at you. “Huh?! Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?” He stabbed your chest with his finger, forcing you to take a step back. “Seeing glimpses of my past doesn’t give you the right to assume things about me, you worm.”

"But it’s not an assumption. You lived a very long and lonely life. A bloody one too.” You briefly wondered if contrary to you, he had grown accustomed to seeing his hands covered in crimson. You let out a shaky exhale. “But you cannot talk about your life to anyone. No one would believe you if you talked about the Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui or what you were doing centuries ago."

You had the experience to back yourself up. You still weren't sure what the Fatui thing was all about but if you could barely believe it after seeing his memories firsthand, no one else could.

"See, you’re just assuming things again out of pity," Scaramouche snapped. He tore himself from your grasp, sneering. "Guess what? I don't need you to feel sorry about me."

You shook your head. "I wasn't about to."

You were never going to forget the feeling of blood on your hands, the crackling of electricity as you saw someone charred alive, the coolness of a cadaver against your skin. You couldn't bring yourself to feel sorry for this man. It wasn't what someone like him sought. 

Pity was for those forced to live under the ruling of unfairness, not able to object to its cruel laws. Forgiveness was for those that were mothered by this tyrant and dedicated their life to preach its teachings. For now, the Balladeer deserved none of them.

When you opened your eyes, Scaramouche had tipped his hat down, obscuring his expression. His grip on his crossed arms was so tight you thought he was going to break his fingers. 

"You don't understand. You can't understand."

His voice was lower than earlier, almost like a growl. 

It wasn't enough to scare you.

"You're right," you admitted. "I cannot understand you. But I really want to." 

Maybe it was because you knew him on a deeper level than a stranger, but something had changed. You were starting to notice it. The hurt he masked behind a veil of fury. Until his words, you thought he was just an eternally angry man, bitter at the world and at his fate. Now, you wondered if he was just someone who lived through too much. Someone who was ready to beg and kill himself for a glimpse of a better future.

He snorted, disbelief written across his face. “A human like you, understanding someone like me? Don’t make me laugh.” He leaned towards you. You fought the urge to take a step back, withholding his stare with all of the courage you could summon. His mouth contorted into a twisted smile. “You’ve seen what I am capable of. Not only are you fundamentally unable to relate to a fraction of my existence, you’re also unable to withstand it. Understanding me will only bring you trouble.”

“You already do.” Scaramouche didn't utter a word, turning his back to you. You didn't let it get to you, instead squeezing your hand against your chest. "I spent my life stuck with visions I couldn't control. Seeing your memories at random moments robbed me from precious moments with the people I love. From enjoying a normal life, one where I don’t have to fear falling asleep."

Your hands were shaking. Whether from anger or sorrow, you didn’t know. Scaramouche was the one assuming things. You may only be a human, one similar to thousands that have come before you, but you knew how it felt to be misunderstood. How it felt not to belong. Nobody had believed you for decades, nor understood why you were so uncomfortable when it came to sleeping. Even your friends couldn’t wrap their heads about your constant worry of getting lost in the daydreaming. You might as well have been from a different species.

You took a deep exhale. Your anger faded away as quickly as it came. "I feel close to you, no matter how strange it sounds. You've always been a small part of me.” Determination seeped through your tone. “So I won't be able to move on as long as I don't know what's going on with my soulmate."

Soulmate. The word rolled strangely on your tongue. It was the first time you were saying it out loud.

Scaramouche gagged at your word choice. "I'm not looking for a lover." Disgust laced his voice. Seems like you were not the only one who felt weird about the whole situation. 

You shook his concern with a wave of the hand. "Me neither. I'm looking for an explanation. A timeline in a chronological order, if possible." 

Your attempt at a joke fell flat as silence fell between the two of us. Your face shifted into a frown. Had you been too insistent? 

"It's alright if you find the situation strange," you said, trying to save the conversation. "I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that you saw glimpses of my life. This is quite embarrassing...."

You didn't have the most exciting life but there were private moments you wanted nobody to see. Especially not your soulmate. 

He shot you an uninterested look, examining the dirt beneath his nails. "I could not care less about your mundane life."

You blinked. You didn't expect him to get interested in your life as much as you were in his, but was that supposed to be comforting? Unsure how to respond, your face contorted into a polite smile.

None of you said a word after that. You didn't dare move either. Weariness taking over you, you watched as the back of his hair fluttered in the breeze, joining the hypnotizing dance of the blue ribbons. The sound of animated conversations and the ringing of distant bells filled the otherwise tense silence.

You were about to leave when Scaramouche let out the heaviest sigh known to mankind. He finally turned to you, uttering a single word. 

"Wanderer."

Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn't that. "Come again?" 

He rolled his eyes but repeated it anyway. "Wanderer. That’s my name. Not Scaramouche or whatever name you heard in my memories." 

You felt your entire face lit up. You could recognize an olive branch when you saw one. "I won't call you anything else, I promise!"

He sighed at your sudden excitement, shaking his head. You were starting to recognize when he was truly irritated and when he was acting annoyed by habit. This time, the look in his eyes didn't match his bored pout. It was not soft by any means, but he did not glare daggers at you anymore.

"I still don’t think someone like you can handle the tale of centuries of existence.” He clicked his tongue. “That being said, I suppose it would be entertaining to see you try. Come to the entrance of Sumeru city in two hours."

Your eyes widened. You thought that you wouldn’t get more than his name, and now he gave you the opportunity to explain his life ? You had half the mind to pinch yourself awake.

"Don't be late Wanderer!" 

He scoffed, readjusting the position of his ginormous hat. “If I were, you'd scream my name in the streets of Sumeru until you get ahold of me. No thanks."

"I wouldn't do that!"

"Oh, really?" A smug smirk took place on his lips. He cleared his throat before taking a high-pitched voice. " 'Hey, you with the hat, stop right there ! I really want to talk to you! Stop, I say !' "

You gasped in shock. "So you actually heard me! Do you not stop when someone calls you?"

"I do. I just don't typically talk to pipsqueaks."

His grin deepened at seeing your offended expression. He even let out a short laugh. You playfully punched the cheeky bastard on the shoulder, not putting much force in the blow. 

Wanderer didn't budge. He instead grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from him. His eyebrows were pinched together in irritation. "Don’t think you can punch me and get out unscathed, kid."

Despite his words, his grasp on you was light, as if he was careful not to hurt you. It was easy to slip from his hold. He was entertaining you, you realized. Considering how harsh he had been when you first had tried to touch him, a light scold was nothing. 

Mimicking a fighting stance, you started shifting your weight from left to right.

"You're the one who's gonna bite the dust! I can knock out someone with a single blow!" You punched the air to demonstrate, a smile blooming on your face. "I can take anyone in a fight!" 

Wanderer pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated by your playful attitude. "Celestia above, not another Childe..."

You pouted at his words. "Are you calling me a child again? I'll let you know that I'm a fully-fledged adult!" You may not be as old as the immortal puppet but you were no kid by human standards. You were only teasing Wanderer because you needed something light after your heavy talk. He couldn’t base his whole perception of you on a speech stemming from your sleep-deprived self…

He clicked his tongue in his mouth before looking at you directly in the eyes. "You talk big for someone I've seen fall in the stairs several times."

Horror washed over you. Every little embarrassing moment you lived flooded your mind. The fact that Wanderer had seen some of them sent warmth pooling in your cheeks. 

"You said you didn't care about my life!" you said, absolutely mortified. 

"It doesn't mean watching you was not mildly entertaining. Why would I focus on boring Fatui politics talk when I could be the witness to the mess of your teenage years?” Your expression was decomposing by the second, to his delight. "I especially liked it when—"

You cut him off with a nervous laugh. "Alright, alright, I get it. Aren't you busy?" 

His gaze fell into a small pouch at his sides. "I do, actually. Buer must be looking for me."

"Buer? Who's that?" You didn't remember hearing this name in his memories.

"The Dendro Archon," he said like it was the most obvious thing on Teyvat. 

"...Right. Of course.”

Maybe you were a bit too optimistic about his ability to open up to you.

Wanderer couldn't believe himself. Three betrayals should have been enough to teach him that closeness only brought pain. Whether because of misunderstandings, lies or the unpredictable and unescapable scythe of Death, the ending was always the same: he was fated to end up hurt. Alone. Cursing himself for loving too much.

He snorted. He knew all of that and yet here he was, wrapping his job up before his meeting with you. How pathetic.

Part of him was not surprised about this new twist of events. Fate liked to throw him in the most ironic situations. He was currently going on errands for Buer, the same Archon he had tried to supplant her months ago and who took him prisoner. Randomly meeting his soulmate in the middle of the streets was not the most unexpected thing to have happened to him. Far from it. At that point, he was surprised it hadn’t happened earlier.

When Wanderer entered the sanctuary of Surasthana, the Archon was sitting on her swing, humming to herself. The melancholic tune didn’t sound familiar but the lyrics in old Sumerian sang the tale of a love long gone. If he rolled his eyes at the song choice, he was polite enough to wait until the end of the song before clearing his throat.

Buer perked up, finally noticing him. She jumped from the swing and greeted him with a small wave.

"Hat guy!" He cocked an eyebrow at the oh so creative sobriquet, making her giggle. "I’m glad to see you. I was starting to think that you had forgotten about me."

"As if my memory would get faulty. I was held up by someone." Holding his hat to pin it into place, he sat on the lush grass. Reunions with Buer always took a while. He might as well make himself comfortable. 

Familiar curious green eyes landed on him. "Was it a friend from the Akademiya?"

He rolled his eyes. "I had never seen them before."

He had expected this flow of questions. Buer was very invested in his relationships with other people– well, rather his lack of. She had made him participate in social events like the Interdarshan championship to socialize. She even enrolled him in the Akademiya. Her argument was that it would help him understand humanity better, as well as himself. 

The results were arguably mixed. Wanderer admittedly tolerated people a bit better than before. They were predictable creatures but they could be entertaining. Sometimes. On the other hand, he had not grown close to anyone since he started attending classes. Sure, some students followed him around, gushing about the mysterious “hat guy” and throwing a birthday party for him, but he would not call them friends. They were classmates at most. It was for the best: it didn’t matter if Buer claimed he was progressing regarding socialization, talking to him was an experience he wished on no one.

She didn’t seem to agree with him. Excitement and pride shone in her eyes. "Every stranger is a friend in potentiality. That is what makes new meetings so exciting: you might be talking to your new favorite person in Teyvat," she beamed, taking place near him. 

"If you say so." 

Friendship was a human concept. Something he could neither fully understand or get. Melodramatic speeches and lengthy explanations meant nothing to him. That is why Wanderer didn’t try to counter her argument. There was no point in talking about something he knew nothing about.

What he did know was that Buer was wrong. You were no stranger to him.

His gaze fell to his hands. The first time he had seen your memories, Scaramouche had thought he was defective. He had never been able to dream until then. His creator didn’t see the interest in allowing him to do so. The only reason he knew what dreams were was because Niwa liked to recount his when they worked together in the forge. 

One second he was lying down in the laboratory of the Fatui, the other he was in a small bed. Piles of toys were scattered around him, decorating what seemed to be a child’s bedroom. Why on Teyvat was he here? Scaramouche tried to move his arm but it did not move an inch. He cursed under his breath. For some reason, his body refused to listen to him. If it was Il Dottore’s scheme, the man was dead.

Without a warning, his head turned. He was greeted by the reflection of a small child in the mirror of the wardrobe. You.

His mind had been pure madness when he had come back to his senses. He had the time to zap five machines before the Doctor arrived, complaining that his research was being destroyed. The Tsaritsa, the stars, fate itself... He had cursed everything he could think of for giving him a soulmate. There was no other reason behind his sudden ability to “dream”. Fate had decided to intertwine your destinies together. The thought only made him more angry.

He couldn't be mad at the child you were, though. You were barely five. No matter how much of an unfeeling person he was, Scaramouche was not about to hold the situation against someone as young as you. A small part of him, one he had tried to bury for centuries, had even ached to hold your chubby hands in his when he had seen you reach for your reflection.

With the impossibility of breaking a soulmate bond, the Fatui Harbinger had been forced to watch you as you grew. He learnt about your favorite color, the school subject you liked best, the names of your childhood friends, the color of your bedroom, all the details of your ordinary life. He was a spectator to mundane moments, to victories and horrific failures alike.

You had transformed from a kid with shining eyes to a determined adult before his eyes.

If Buer was right and that all friends started as strangers, it meant that you would never be able to grow close to him. You already knew him.

Wanderer plucked a few strands of grass, watching how they fell to the ground. No, hoping for you two to be friends was wishful thinking. You had seen the atrocities he had done as a Fatui Harbinger. Once he filled the gap in your knowledge, you would not want anything to do with him. His erasure from existence didn’t excuse the actions of his past life.

He would not blame you. He deserved your hate. At the end of the day you were another name on the endless list of his victims. Because of your soulmate link, you had lived your entire life plagued by visions you didn't understand, othered because of things out of your control. You were the proof that Wanderer brought suffering just by existing. That he wasn't a fundamentally good person, like the one Buer and Traveler insisted he was. You had every right to loathe him.

That was why he accepted your offer. If he explained everything to you, if he confirmed that every "dream" of yours was true, you would move on. You would forgive Fate for giving you such an unloving person as a soulmate. Maybe you would even want to settle down with someone else... At the end of the day, you'd be free from the chain of destiny. So would he.

The world would let him do a good thing, for a change. 

"While it's true that talking it out will appease both of your minds, you shouldn't only see them as a way to atone for the sins of your past life," Buer intervened. 

Wanderer gave her an unimpressed look, throwing away the rest of the grass strands. "One day, you will have to answer for all of those breaches of privacy before the General Mahamatra."

"Talking about your thoughts with someone else can help you sort them out and gain new insight. I felt like you could benefit from it."

Her growing smile told him that she didn't feel sorry for reading his mind without his consent. He huffed. She was lucky he had grown accustomed to this habit of hers.

She hummed as she stepped in front of him. "Agreeing to a meeting to ease your guilty conscience is not a bad thing in itself. The problem is that you’re assuming that they can only hate you."

“What other reaction could they have?” The answer appeared in his mind before he finished his sentence. “Pity?” Pronouncing the word made his insides hurl. Wanderer would rather feel your wrath than your pity. The former didn’t feel as disgusting as the other;

Buer shook her head. “That’s not it either. It’s alright if you don’t yet understand Wanderer, you will see in due time.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. He preferred it when she used complex metaphors. At least he had the opportunity to understand what was going on in her mind, contrary to when she used vague words of wisdom like a drowsy prophet.

"If I can give you one more piece of advice, you should give this relationship a chance." Seeing his scowl of disgust, she explained herself. "I'm not telling you to pursue a romance with them. Just don't assume that tonight is the only time you meet. Keep your mind and your heart open."

Despite her smile, she had a serious look in her eyes. It was the face of wisdom in all of its assured glory. Wanderer closed his eyes. It was easy for him to forget she was not a young child, like the one he took care of all those centuries ago. 

"There is a reason why they're your soulmate," Buer said. "Don't you want to discover why?" 

"Someone like them has nothing in common with me." 

Your memories told the tale of a simple life. In an ideal world, a normal person like you wouldn't have been paired up with him. How it happened in this one was a mystery. If he was inclined to pity others, Wanderer would feel bad for you. Being his soulmate only brought you experiences that you couldn’t talk about to anyone.

“You cannot talk about your life to anyone. No one would believe you if you talked about the Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui or what you were doing centuries ago.” Their hands shook as they lifted their head to meet his gaze. He stilled. He had expected to read loneliness and fire in their eyes. He only found the glow of loneliness. It was the same he had seen in your reflection all those years ago.

Wanderer hid his face behind his hand. He supposed he was wrong. He could see a few ressemblances between you and him. That didn’t necessarily mean you would become friends.

"Don't expect too much from this meeting. I only plan on retelling my story, not on learning more about them."

Gentle hands covered his, pulling them away from his face before lightly squeezing them.

“You don’t need to. You already know them better than anyone else.” Buer's voice was as soft as her expression.

He opened his mouth but no snarky counter-argument came to his mind. From what little insight Wanderer had gained on friendship over the course of his life, sharing experiences with a potential friend wasn’t enough. You also had to learn about the other person's personality, their taste, the little things they did… Such a process was too much work for a relationship that would eventually decay. But the man already knew you, more intimately than any person ever would.

If to be friends was to learn about someone, he had become yours a long time ago.

Wanderer fought the urge to shield his face behind his hat. It would be as good as admitting to Buer her words had struck a chord. No way he would embarrass himself like that.

“You're not going to give up, are you?" he sighed.

“While I do hope you will form a bond with them, I will not hold it against you if it doesn’t happen.” She took some time to think, trying to come up with a convincing imagery. “Fate is a tricky concept. It steers you in a specific direction but it cannot force you to follow it. No matter what, you can always make your own way.”

He let the words sink in as he laid down on the cool grass. From the Sanctuary, he could hear the entire city’s hustle and bustle. The sound of the streets mixed with the chirping of the birds and the rustle of the wind through the branches.

He felt Buer sitting next to him. Her voice interrupted his quiet reverie, sounding cheekier than usual.

"Don't I deserve something in return for my good advice?"

Her eyes were focused on the small pouch hanging at his side.  He had forgotten about it, their conversation had distracted him. Wanderer shook his head in defeat. The Archon didn’t need to use her mind-reading powers to know about the actions of her subjects. 

“If you want to be paid for giving lectures, you should think about becoming a teacher at the Akademiya.”

“I would deprive someone from the joy of educating young minds.”

His lips curled into a grin. “Right. Poor them.”

Feeling her gaze on him, he relented. He unclipped the package from his belt and gave it to her, not bothering to sit back up. Buer tried to open it carefully. It was so full that in spite of her efforts, morsels of candied Ajilenakh nuts spilled on the ground.

Wanderer frowned at the sight of the mess. Something churned inside him. If he had known it would be wasted, he wouldn’t have bought so much food.

“Be more careful,” he chastised her. “It’s expensive.”

Buer shot him a perplexed look. He scoffed in response, averting his gaze. 

"I didn't buy them. The merchant gave free samples to bystanders and he couldn't take no for an answer."

Another white lie from him. He had noticed that Buer didn't have much candy left and since he had to go to the Bazaar anyway, he had decided to buy some. He watched as she inspected a piece of candy, rolling it between her fingers. He didn't get why she was head over heels for those disgustingly sweet nuts but he had to keep her in good spirits. Otherwise, she might decide to lock him back in his cell. That and seeing her smile so much sent warmth running in his chest. 

Her eyes crinkled, amused. "A free sample? How nice," she said, popping one of the delicacies in her mouth. He supposed there was no fooling the Archon of Knowledge. She pointed at him. "Your friend hasn't had the opportunity to try food from Sumeru, have they? You could bring them to Lambad’s and keep some of the Ajilenakh nuts to snack on."

“We have other things to do than distract ourselves with culinary tourism.”

“It’s not a distraction! See it as a bonding experience that will allow you to grow closer.”

He arched a brow, unimpressed. “As if I needed something like this to become their friend.”

He stopped after his own sentence. He blinked, not believing what he had just said.

Wanderer didn't know how he ended up in this situation. Truly. He was never one to let Fate decide for him. He defied it at each opportunity, fighting with all he had. This shouldn't have been any different. He was a traveler, an outcast, an outsider. He had no use for a soulmate– a lover. Especially not a human one, one that would be gone in a blink of his immortal life. 

He had no use for a lover, but he supposed that if he had to befriend a single person in the world, it may as well be you.

If you liked this work, please reblog and leave a comment or an ask!

Quality Time - head canons drabbles

Yandere! Forced Marriage x Fem! Reader

Ft: Scaramouche and Childe

How your yanderes spend time with you

Scaramouche

“Wrong again,” he muttered beneath his breath, and you felt yourself tense at his anger.

“I apologize, my lord,” you responded quickly. It was like second nature for you. He never truly accepted your apologies, but it made your punishments less harsh.

He insisted that once a week he'd spend time with you. Although, the time was never doing what you liked. He wanted you to learn more skills that would make you seem sophisticated, things he said were skills he learned himself. Tea ceremonies, kimono dressing, and his personal favorite, calligraphy.

Scaramouche would sit you in his lap, with a low table in front of you. You thought it was some sort of perverted ploy to touch you more, but he genuinely seemed more interested in the writing. Or interested in you learning to do it.

“Don't apologize, just do better,” he lifted your wrist that had the brush in it and pulled the sleeve of your kimono back, there was a little black ink on the expensive fabric. His fingers were cold, his grip not tight, but threatening, “I've told you, you must use your other hand to hold the sleeve, or it'll drag through the ink.” his eyebrows were furrowed together in frustration as he looked over the garment you'd practically ruined.

“Be glad I love you so much, or I'd keep you in solitary confinement for your repeated mistakes,” 

“Thank you, my lord.” 

He motioned for you to do it again and you mimicked his motions with your own hand and drew out a character on the parchment. It was borderline ineligible, but it was better than anything you'd done before. He hummed in agreement at your work, wrapping one his arms tighter around your waist.

His other hand reached up to gently pat your head. He called it praise, but you considered it condescending. Despite the fact that you hated it, he did it regardless, your opinions didn't seem to matter to him.

“You did good,” the brush was taken from your hand and he repeated the action, only this time it was more graceful and elegant, “it should look more like this though.”

He kept his hold on you as you continued to write characters for him deep into the night.

Childe

“My my, do those clothes truly suit you,” he could barely keep his hands off of you as the two of you trudged through the snow together.

You rarely went outside when staying in Snezhnaya, you rarely wanted to. But when you did, you were bundled up in thick, heavy garments to combat the cold. More than six layers at that. You wondered what part of you he thought looked good? There wasn't much of you to see anymore, the clothes had eaten you whole.

Childe insisted on taking you hunting with him. You politely declined, but once again, he insisted, and that was just him being polite. What he was really saying was, “Put your boots on, you're coming out with me.”

You were handed your gun, nearly dropping it from the surprise that he was just handing it to you. Amongst all the talking about how to spy tracks and what to do when you had an animal in your sights, the fact that he'd given you a gun never came up. You'd never held one before and also, Childe was your captor. Was he crazy? Stupid? Bulletproof? All of those things sounded plausible.

He walked in front of you as you fell behind. He was more used to this type of thing, snow up to your knees, but you were struggling. Where you were from, it didn't even get cold.

The gun felt heavy in your hands. You wanted to hold it away from your body, but you also wanted to keep it close to you. Childe was just there, walking and talking without a care in the world. And you were behind him. His guard was down, his guard always seemed to be down around you. You could just do it, couldn't you.

You raised the rifle up and held your breath. One thing he actually said and you listened to, was that you needed to be stable when you were shooting. You needed to be firm. Your heart was pumping in your chest, but you didn't let your hands shake. You didn't want to mess this up.

“There are pellets in your gun,” he'd stopped in his tracks, not even trying to look at you while he spoke, “and those definitely do not work on me.”

... Working under the Balladeer's orders as one of the members of the Fatui.

You were new, and Scaramouche knew that well. He was even told by one of the harbingers that they were letting you work under his guidance as you were not... Fit to follow the stronger harbingers.

He saw you as a nuisance once. He never really liked you, and he thought that you were simply annoying. Repulsive, even. It was laughable with how many times he'd watch you fall.

However, he couldn't lie and said that when others did it... He found it annoying. Irritating.

You were his property, just like how everyone is his own to use and break. That was no exception, and everyone knew that.

So why the hell do they think they can toy with you?

He had found himself making sure your missions go smoothly, even going so far as to isolate you from everyone else. Hell, he even made sure that those who decide to pair with you knew the extremes that he will take should they fuck around and get you hurt.

If a single hair had been misplaced, hell will break loose.

Scaramouche is a ticking time bomb, and for his poor, sweet, accident and chaos magnet of a darling... He found himself about to explode.

Maybe, just maybe, he was aware of that. And maybe you were, too.

After all, he knew that if anyone had decided to simply hurt you so much as even breathing wrong in your direction, he would have their necks faster than they can beg.

Love is a twisted thing.

And Scaramouche will twist it till it breaks.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

I AM IN DESPERATE NEED OF MORE OLDER SIBLING XIAO, KAZUHA, AND SCARA CONTENT.

ur writing is literally so good im in love......

anyway UHHH older sibling xiao, kazuha, and scara with a stupid younger (technically adopted) sibling!!! turns out theres a reason for their stupidity

(y/n was basically sheltered and isolated by their 'parents' which is why they're so dumb in anything they do)

Xiao + Kazuha + Scara with a Little Sibling!Reader

Hmhm thank you. Sorry it's late.

Part two here.

Strictly platonic. Slight mention of tics. Spoilers for Scara's real name.

Xiao:

Xiao is not the most knowledgeable of mortal life, and he understands that.

But you, only a child that does not know literally anything about the outside world? It reminds him of an animal that was born sheltered, not knowing of how much potential they could've had outside.

Xiao feels bad he doesn't know how to help. In fact, both of you need help. But still, Xiao has taken on the role of a caring older brother, so he just has to help in some way.

He doesn't lose hope, though. He knows more than you, obviously. Xiao's lived thousands of years.

Your big brother may not be that big of a help in social situations. If you accidentally use the wrong tone towards someone in a conversation, and that person gets angry with you... Xiao will not hesitate to defend you.

He's a little too intimidating. Xiao has learned that a simple glare would get those mortals to shut up, so he does just that.

He tries to comfort you. You're confused with recieving comfort aswell.

At first, Xiao is embarrassed that you get all confused when he tries to make you feel better about yourself. Then, he thinks of how aweful your parents must've been.

At first, he wants to stop embarrassing himself. Yet Xiao thinks, who else will teach you, care for you? Soon, Xiao will completey drop his tsundere act, and openly show love to you as your big brother.

His love language is quality time, preferebly in silence, just knowing that you're alive and next to him.

During this time, Xiao likes to take you on nature walks, away from the harbour and inn. He finds places to sit, watch leaves and bushes sway in the wind, and possibly pet some wild animals.

But he knows that you should learn normal human life. So on some days, your big brother decides to take you around the harbour.

On your little walks around Liyue harbour, you're not the only one learning about mortal life.

Your bond is so strong. Sometimes, you find yourself getting trapped in one of his hugs. Actually, this has happened so many times, you understand completely what Xiao wants to say, to communicate, to let you know.

He might even give you gentle, hesitant, slow headpats.

Everyday, you are reminded how your big brother is trying so hard. Xiao wants you to have a happy life, and he's doing everything he can to achieve it. But, if you being "happy" means staying with him, then he'll gladly take you in his arms.

He loves you, he hopes you know that. He wants to tell you how proud he is of you, of all your progress getting over your isolated past.

Kazuha:

Kazuha thinks you're cute.

He feels scared, maybe paranoid when he has to leave you alone. But he shouldn't worry too much, he always feels a sense of urgency in the wind whenever you're in danger.

When Kazuha finds out about your parents and what they did to you, he feels upset. It almost angers him. You should've been allowed to go outside and explore the world, especially in the early stages of life.

So, he takes it upon himself, as your big brother, to show you all he knows.

Sometimes, when you do something stupid, like actually befriending a hilichurl... Kazuha would cheer you on. He knows what it's like to feel embarrassed, and he definitely does not want to be the cause of your embarrassment. Plus, you're just too cute.

He buys clothes you say look cute, and gift them to you. If you like sweets, Kazuha's going to give you little cat shaped sweets. At first you thought you were supposed to feed them to cats... But Kazuha thought you looked cute, so he took a little picture with his Kamera.

One time you accidentally said something rude to a person. Kazuha apoligized, which led you to apoligize aswell, but the person was still mad.

The next day, you and Kazuha were walking around in the city when you saw that same person, with backup. And they looked furious. One of them even said, "Get them!"

Kazuha reacted quickly before they could catch you. "Now isn't this going too far?" He questioned while grabbing your hand, using his anemo vision to blow a strong gust of wind to stop the group, and running away with you. With an innocent smile.

Kazuha knows since you've been pretty sheltered, you don't know much slang or big confusing words. So, around you Kazuha speaks easy, almost bad English.

But often when you two cuddle or hang out alone, your big brother tells you how much he loves you with poems, haikus, confusing words, old English, all that. It's like your big brother's speaking another language– Yet you somewhat understand after seeing that smile on his face.

Kazuha smiles so much around you, you probably developed a smiling tic, where your eyes close and you smile. Whenever you two greet each other, Kazuha's welcomed with that little close eyed smile of yours.

He thinks it's so adorable, your big brother always cups your face in his hands before giving you a little hug.

Will blow wind towards you, blowing your hair back, to see you smile.

One goal of his is to make you completely forget about your past, and your biological family. Another goal is to hug you everyday, another goal is to see you smile everyday, another goal is to tell you he loves you everyday, another goal—

You don't know a lot of things, and Kazuha helps you with that. But if you know that he is your big brother, and he loves you unconditionally, Kazuha will feel content and happy with you, which he already is.

Scaramouche:

At first, he thought you were so annoying. Did he really have to teach you how to do everything?

Occasionally he has yelled at you. But he always feels a weird sense of guilt he never felt before.

Scaramouche somehow finds out you've been sheltered by your biological family, that's why you acted so stupid.

He doesn't know how to feel about it. The next time Scaramouche sees you, he instantly feels regret. Now he's the one feeling stupid.

His face always softens around you. He's made a secret promise to himself that he'll never yell at you again.

Scara will take your hand to get you close to him, under his huge hat. He says it's so you don't get lost, but it's actually to protect you and for people to not mess with you.

Your big brother buys steals you kimonos, if you like those. Same with dango milk, and everything else.

Scaramouche will drop everything for you. You're way more important than what he was just doing.

"Well, look who it is." Scaramouche had his arms crossed. He was in a domain filled with electro.

He turned around. "Delighted to meet you again, traveler." The blonde switched to a fighting stance. "Hm. You already look like you want me dead."

The traveler sensed another presence enter the room, but had no time to pay attention to it, since the Balladeer could attack when the opponent was not focused.

"You've grown weak." "Big brother?" Scaramouche jolted.

He uncrossed his arms and looked to the side, seeing you approach him. Your big brother was hesitant to turn his attention to you, giving the traveler a side glare. Well, the traveler couldn't be stupid enough to attack him, right infront of his innocent little sibling, right?

Scaramouche kneeled down to your height. "Y/n, I told you not to come here, it's dangerous." His face relaxed, but still confused, asking for an explanation. In the corner of his eye, he could see the traveler's stance ease up and hide their sword.

"But I missed you." Scara tipped his hat backwards to see you better. He sighed after a moment.

"Alright, alright. I'll come visit you when I'm done, okay?" Your big brother gave you a quick hug. "Just go back for now."

You nodded. After giving the traveler a curious look, you came back from where you were.

Scaramouche stood up, crossing his arms again. "Th-The Balladeer? A little sibling!?" A squeaky Paimon voice shouted. The traveler has a ready stance again.

The harbinger scoffed. "Everyone has a family at some point in our lives, whether we like it or not." The traveler has more of an understanding of Scaramouche now.

If you're having trouble speaking for yourself, Scaramouche will gladly help you.

He desperately tries to keep you away from Childe. If you meet that ginger, you'll think he's a better big brother than Scara. He's scared you'll leave him. He doesn't want that happening.

Scaramouche doesn't want you calling him by his fatui name. He doesn't want you to call him someone that has multiple crimes to his name. Instead, he tells you his name is Kunikuzushi.

He's not used to being called by Kunikuzushi anymore, so it always warms his heart whenever you call him that.

Kiss me now...

(Wanderer x reader)

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tch"

fatui (energetic) fem!y/n who has obvious feelings for the balladeer and the whole fatui members knows it? tysm 🤩

of course anon! i hope you like it >w<

warnings: reader is very energetic and gets flustered easily, slight childe x reader or childe x zhongli if you squint, slight zhongli x reader, new harbingers, unedited :>

"scaramouche!"

he only had a moment to see who called his name before he was tackled into a hug, groaning and huffing angrily. after he braced himself, he violently tried to pry you off of him with much difficulty as you were clinging to him like a spider monkey.

"what? and stop with the clinging, {name}, it's annoying."

"well sorry! i've just been really excited lately!"

"oh and to what do i owe the pleasure of experiencing your excitement," he said and rolled his eyes, turning around and getting ready to walk away. his hand pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, closing his eyes to get rid of his aching headache.

"we get to go on a trip to liyue together!"

scaramouche swore he'd never done a double take so fast, nearly to the point where a normal human neck would break. "what?"

"we're going to liyue together! her majesty's orders."

he immediately sped-walked away, not even paying attention to the sound of your energetic voice calling his name in confusion and disappointment to his reaction. office. office. i need to get to my office. immediately, he slammed the door shut and locked it, pressing his back to the wooden door and letting out frantic pants to try and ease his heart that was running laps in his chest. 

this was going to be so bad, his heart can't take a lot more of this. everyone knew he had a crush on you, even the tsaritsa herself knew of the balladeer's hopeless romantic-like feelings he harbored for your energetic self. this was a set up and he knows it. he thinks he has no chance, absolutely no way he can get someone like you – someone who lit up a whole room with their presence alone, who could turn even the most crappy situations into a really happy one, you who could make all the harbingers become friendly with each other every single time – who is out of his league as his girlfriend. absolutely no-

"scara? hello?"

"i guess he's not in there," tartaglia said with a small sigh. "i could have sworn i heard him come this way?"

"don't be ridiculous," pantalone scoffed. "he probably took off to liyue without you, {name}."

"oh what a pity," dottore said with a few tsks. "you know what, {name}? i'll take you with me on my next mission. i'll go request it from the tsari-"

as soon as one can blink, scaramouche opens the door, pulls you into his office, shuts the door, and locks it. you let out a small yelp when you felt him pull you inside, and the rest of the harbingers were staring in slight confusion and amusement at the door.

"what just happened," dottore asked, comically confused.

"i think he's jealous," tartaglia laughed proudly and brushed his clothing before beginning to walk away with the other harbingers. "our job is done here, my good fellows."

"you're a terrible person, tartaglia," pantalone scoffed. 

"gotta keep up with you all somehow," tartaglia mumbled.

meanwhile, you looked at scaramouche with wide eyes and a shocked expression until a smile broke out across your face, "scara! i knew you wouldn't leave me!"

"why'd you bring them with you," he scoffed. "you know i despise them."

"they just tagged along," you muttered. "i didn't want to bring them… but hey at least you're talking to me now!"

"just give me the mission briefing," scaramouche said. "before i kick you out."

"well," you drawled. "we have a meeting with morax about a future deal."

"isn't that tartaglia's usual mission," scaramouche asked, leaning on his desk a few feet away from you both, making you walk closer. "he's always over in liyue, so isn't he going to go again?"

"hey don't kill the messenger bird," you raised your hands in mock defence. "i'm not in charge of this."

"tch. fine. when do we leave and how long are we there for?"

"well," you checked your watch. "we leave in a few hours. and we're there for a day and a half."

"alright," he sighed in annoyance. "i'll meet you at the docks."

"yay," you cheered and ran to him, engulfing him in a large hug, "see you there! i'm so excited to go!"

"g-get off of me."

later that day, you met up with scaramouche at the docks, seeing almost all the other fatui members see you off. 

"{name}, here. bring this with you," arlecchino gave you a bag of mora. "some extra for shopping in case you need it. keep whatever you don't spend."

"r-really? thank you so much," you said happily and hugged her. "i'll return the favour! i swear it!"

"make sure you eat at wanmin restaurant," tartaglia added happily. "i'm sure scaramouche would love to take you there."

scaramouche almost choked on his water when he heard tartaglia's proposition. "i'm not taking her anywhere."

"oh come on," columbina chirped. "we all know you want some alone time with {name}~!"

everyone let out small "ooh"'s and "aww"'s while scaramouche bit the inside of his cheek to stop the blush rising from his neck, capitano being the only one who shook his head in mock disappointment. "come on you all. they don't have all day to waste time with idle chatter."

he turned to you, "may your travels be safe and swift. and remember, for glory to her majesty the tsaritsa."

"yes sir," you said. "the mission will be a success, i know it."

"i expect results from you. {name}, balladeer."

scaramouche nodded and rolled his eyes, then spoke to you coldly, "let's go."

the day grew late as the ship rocked against the waves, clearing the icy waters before smoothly gliding on the water. the ocean sparkled in the sunset, small fish jumping out of the water occasionally to avoid the oncoming ship. 

"hey."

you turned around and smiled, "hey! how can i help you?"

"aren't you going to bed soon," scaramouche asked. "you must be tired, are you not?"

"i'm not tired," you spoke cheerfully. "i feel great!"

"right," scaramouche spoke, moreso to himself. "i forgot."

you giggled and continued to watch your surroundings, seeing the crimson horizon. pink fluffy clouds framed the setting sun's glow, the mist from the ocean only adding to the view.

"it's beautiful," you murmured.

"yeah," scaramouche mumbled looking at you. "you are."

"huh?"

"nothing," scaramouche scoffed. he walked over to you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the lower deck where you both could rest. "let's get rest now. i don't want you slacking off on the mission."

you blushed and nodded, answering with a cheerful, "okay! whatever you say!"

the next morning, you both arrived at the harbour, making you sigh with content. "wow, liyue is so beautiful! i'll never get tired of it!"

"well we're not here for that {name}," scaramouche scoffed. "we're here to make a deal, and we're leaving right after."

you pouted, "but ajax said you should take me to wanmin…"

"why are you using his first name," scaramouche asked with jealousy. 

"he told me to call him like that," you mumbled. "oh! am i not allowed to? sorry…"

"not around me," scaramouche grumbled. "you're not allowed to call anyone besides me by their first name. got it?"

"what's gotten into you," you scoffed with a blush on your face. "i don't even know your name."

"kunikuzushi will work. don't use it unless we're alone."

you blushed harder, committing his name to memory. scaramouche could see your cheeks burning, the same flustered expression on your face that he's gotten used to. 

"don't tell me you're getting flustered, {name}."

he walked closer to you, smirking and leaning into your face. scaramouche placed a hand on your forehead, "so red already?"

"i'm j-just glad you trust me with your name," you said happily while trying to cool off your face. "now let's go! you owe me dinner later!"

"i never said i owed you anything," he grumbled while you pulled him along with you on your quest to find zhongli. good thing you were pulling him along with you, because neither of you could see the flustered expression on each other's faces. 

"so, the two of you want to negotiate mining expeditions here in liyue? i'm afraid i'm not the one you need to be asking for permission," the ex-archon said with the sip of his tea. 

"look at it this way," scaramouche said next to you. "we need your blessings as well. it'd be far too inappropriate to make any decisions without your approval as well. you did rule over this land for quite a long time, morax."

"i go by zhongli now," he corrected him. "but yes, you are quite right. however, i only care for the prosperity of liyue, as it is now ruled by the people. no longer are these lands ruled by the immortal. you do not need my blessings."

"so," you slid a contract over. "i assume you're alright with the mining proposition? we'll go to ningguang afterwards"

he looked at you and then chuckled, "that is alright with me little one. where do i need to sign?"

"here and here," you pointed out. after passing him a pen, you turned to the waiter, "check please."

scaramouche scoffed from next to you, "i'll pay. don't worry about it."

you grabbed his hand that held a bag of mora, "oh no you don't! i'll take care of this one. you can think of this as my way of making you treat me to wanmin restaurant later!"

scaramouche was about to break free, but he felt how iron hard your grip was on his hand. he couldn't break free even if he wanted to, so he settled for a small thank you while you handed the mora to the waitress. however, your hand was still over his even though the waitress already left. not like scaramouche would say anything either.

"thank you both for a wonderful lunch," zhongli said happily while he finished his tea. "i'll consider this contract as repayment."

"no worries," you said happily. "i'm glad we have your permission. we'll be heading off now, so thank you!"

"of course young one," he slightly smiled. "enjoy your stay in liyue and send my regards to childe for the mora."

"i will!"

it wasn't the first time you met with zhongli, as in fact you came to liyue a lot with childe during breaks. you finished your missions quite quickly, meaning you could stop off in liyue to see him for a day or two before going to see scaramouche, who you spent a lot of time with.

which resulted in your massive, obvious feelings for him.

you let go of scaramouche's hand before standing up, sending a thank you to the waitress, the three of you promptly leaving and going your separate ways. all of a sudden, you felt his hand brush against yours, making you blush. 

"so, what time."

"huh? what do you mean what time," you asked and looked at him. 

"what time do you want to have dinner," he looked away from you with a small scoff, ears faintly glowing red. "we have to be back by tomorrow, so keep that in mind."

"scaramouche! you're gonna take me to wanmin!"

you laughed and hugged his waist, him trying to squirm and get free, "let go of me!"

"thank you thank you thank you! how can i ever repay you?"

"treat it as a date," scaramouche said and stopped squirming. his words resonated in your head, making you immediately let go and step away from him. his heart dropped to his stomach, did you move away because he made you feel uncomfortable?

"huh?"

"treat it as a first date," he mumbled. "i won't say it again. date me."

your eyes sparkled with tears, "scaramouche…"

immediately without missing a beat you ran and hugged him, "of course i will! i've been waiting forever, you know!"

he patted your head, an arm coming to hug you closer to him. to be quite frank, he had no idea what he was doing. his body moved for him. "how have you managed to be even more energetic…"

"only because i'm so happy! now, about that dinner," you smiled mischievously and took his hand. "let's go now!"

"we just ate!"

"well i can't wait! i've been waiting for years, scaramouche."

"ugh… so annoying…"

you laughed and pulled scaramouche along, a small smile on his face while he heard your giggles of happiness. in the background, a certain ginger was standing and watching with an ex-archon who had a bag of mora in his hand.

"i told you it'd work! {name} and the balladeer were meant to be!"

"such a hopeless romantic," the ex-archon mused. "but thank you for the mora. i didn't realise you were coming today."

"i had to make time," childe smiled. "i couldn't miss this important day."

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

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

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

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

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

Of course Father knew you weren’t asleep.

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

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

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

“Y-Yes, Father. I-I do too…”

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

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

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

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

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

My dear Y/N,

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

Father.

Father. 

Father genuinely planned to adopt you.

Father wanted you to become her actual child.

Was that why Father was always kinder to you?

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

It was because Father wanted you to be her child?

Her actual child?

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

Because Father.

Father was the one asking you.

Father was asking you to be her child.

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

A family.

A relationship.

Someone who truly loved you.

A parent.

So how could you ever say no?

A new home.

A new life.

No more loneliness.

No more fear or worry.

No more doubt or anxiety.

A new home. 

With Father.

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

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

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

But everything always works out in the end.

Life always finds a way to piece everything together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My child.”

Lilia thinks you’re beautiful.

If someone was to see you now, they would think him mad.

You? Beautiful?

Surely, someone like him who lived for centuries has seen beauties no mortal man can hope to compare in one lifetime.

You are no royal.

You are no warrior.

Nor do you posses powers of the greatest mages.

Yet you are beautiful in his eyes.

What was status, beauty, and power? If not something temporary?

You have something greater than all that.

You are observant which most oft over look.

You are kind.

You have heart.

You have empathy—something that surprises even him at times with how strong you feel.

Lilia looks at you as you lay next to him.

He pulls at your cheek, shaking slightly at the smile and slight drool you give as you continue to sleep.

How charming.

How adorable.

Beautiful.

“I love you, sweet one.”

Woke up today and went “wow, how sexy of me to drool.” And “you know what? Lilia would find it cute (and never let me live this down).” 😂💞💃So this came to be lolol 🫶

The greatest self-love is your favorites loving you unconditionally 🥰❤️‍🔥💝

.⁠ ｡⁠*⁠♡ request: May I request Sebastian and Lilia Vanrouge as reader’s father figure, pretty please?

.⁠ ｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: i really like papa lilia, i just know that he would take very good care of the reader if he had the opportunity to adopt you lol. Well, I hope you like it anonie! Also Sebbys part here.

It’s faerie custom to steal human children for themselves, so the first moment your eyes met in the cafeteria he knew he needed to keep you close. I mean, you were a cute little thing that was brought into a world where you didn’t know anything or anyone. A cute little thing that managed to hold Lilia’s attention and focus, and he just can’t help but be in awe of your strength and courage.

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