#scaramouche imagine

[silence-burns]

Scaramouche (Wanderer): touch 

Fandom: Genshin Impact 

Wanderer wasn't used to touch in general. 

Years of Dottore's experiments had left him feeling violated and raw and despising anyone's touch because for the longest time it was followed only by pain and torment.

He despised the whole concept of physical affection, even once he grew attached to you. Wanderer joined your party already torn between enjoying your presence and knowing that emotions were precisely what made him weak even in his original creator's eyes.

So the first time you pat his arm without thinking much about it, he froze. 

Not that it hurt - quite the opposite, actually. It was a surprise, but he was…fine with it? 

He might've flinched initially, but would work on pretending not to be bothered. Your hands were always gentle towards him and never caused him any pain. He figured that if he didn't shoo you away, you'd continue to leave small touches here and there. And that was something he was growing to enjoy.

Wanderer often thought about those moments of shared vulnerability when your hand brushed his, even accidentally, and for a few moments he could feel the warmth of your skin.

He wouldn't admit it, though. If you ever pointed out how he didn't move out of your way, he'd just call you clumsy or blind. 

The changes were gradual and took a lot of time during your travels. He'd have to figure out what he actually liked and how much he was willing to trust you.

Wanderer enjoyed the way you touched him. Sometimes you'd brush a single fingertip over his skin and paint strange, mindless patterns over it. His skin was smooth and colder to the touch than you'd expect, but not in an unpleasant way.

Sometimes you'd use your hands, combing through his hair in those rare moments when you thought he was asleep and wouldn't mind. Wanderer didn't mind even when he was conscious but pretended not to be. He couldn't understand it, but there was something soothing in that motion and the realization that even if he truly fell asleep at one point, he wouldn't wake up alone and uncared for.

Tenderness was a new concept for him. He saw it in the way you'd patch up his wounds, making sure to clean them up without causing him pain. In the way you'd bandage him up, brushing his skin gently and making sure he'd heal up properly. In the way you'd later check on him, ask how he felt and sometimes also tell him off for being reckless. He'd banter with you as always, calling you a mother hen, but deep inside his empty chest, something warm would flicker.

Scaramouche was a puppet and so was Wanderer. He was aware of the differences between him and anyone else, and for the longest time despised them with a fury. 

He wasn't sure why or when it happened, but his fury calmed under your touch and through the way you looked at those parts. It smoothed out the edges his anger kept sharp, and healed what he thought would always stay broken. 

And that's how the Wanderer found himself on most of the nights, entangled with your body pressed tightly into his, and for the first time in a very long while, didn't feel any cold.

[sungie]

“Stop wasting your time.” 

Scaramouche has never been a liar. Yet there’s something so jarring about the way it leaves his mouth. When what he really needs to say is something so disgustingly vulnerable he can’t bear it. He’s just said, stop wasting your time, when what he really needs to say is ‘on me’. Stop wasting your time on me.

So why won’t his lips move? Why won’t he say those words he knows will wipe that hurt expression right off your face? 

He feels your back tense against his. And it's so preventable. If only he just ... spit it out. Said sorry. Explained himself.

“What?” You say.

It’s such a quiet sound. Even though you’re there, right beside him. So close, it feels like he holds the tremors of your voice inside that small, empty space gouged within his chest. 

“You heard me,” is what he says instead. His gaze drifts to the senbei you tried tossing in your mouth and missed. A half-hour earlier and there'd been laughter screwing up your face in a way he hadn’t known softened him. Not until he’d raised a hand to his aching cheek to realize he’d been smiling. And now, because he's an ass, he keeps going. “I know you did.” 

“No,” you say. “No, I heard. I just don’t understand why you ... why you always.” There’s a pause. It’s too long. Seconds too long. 

Before he knows it, he's glancing at you. Just to check, he convinces himself. And god dammit.

He swallows. His chest feels so hollow. Like, he’s carved it out himself. 

“I just wanted to," you say, then stop.

Just shut up already, he thinks. He's not stupid. Like, do you really think he can't tell how hard you're trying to keep your voice steady? That he can’t see the way your nails dig crescent moons into your skin? That he can’t see the way you’re sucking in your left cheek so you won’t cry?

“I just … want you to let me in.” You say at last.

And it’s why you invited him over, he thinks. To try and get him to smile. Which, you succeeded with, he guesses. To try and get him to learn relationships aren���t give and take, but build and build.

Like that stupid analogy and that stupid board game. You beat him at it earlier that night, and he swept the rest of the wooden blocks aside to slump and gaze at your ceiling in defeat. Later, you’d laughed and slumped on top of him, pressing your nose to his.

Now did you succeed in that second part? Scaramouche scoffs.

So pathetic. Pathetically naive.

Because he doesn’t think you’re right. People never stay. Never.

But when he glances back at you, your gaze burns a determined hole into him. Despite him having been a total dick all evening. And there it is again, that unfamiliar feeling in his chest. Expanding. Making it hard to breathe.

Well, if he’s honest. He hopes you’re right. Even though you're not.

Scaramouche sighs. He leans forward, his thumb lightly grazing the top of your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It fell into your face. That’s all.”

He knows his touch lingers. What he really wants is to cup your cheek. He wants to hold you. But his hands move back to his sides like he can't control them. Another reminder he’s more puppet than human. 

“You want me to let you in,” he says, repeating your sentiments. “And what good will that do? I relive my god-awful memories, just for you to cry your pretty little eyes out? I don’t think so.” 

He’s thankful you don’t dwell on it. He supposes he should reward you, until he hears it.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Is that even a question? Of course he does. 

Not anymore, is what he’s about to say, but it dies away once he notices just how he’s gazing at you.

And it must be tender, or as tender as someone like him can manage, because he watches you press your lips together to hide your smile. Stubbornly withheld tears wobble beneath your waterline.

“Don’t cry,” he says, just to balance it out. “You look ugly.” 

It makes you laugh. “I hate you. So much.” 

God, Scaramouche loves that laugh.

He cracks a smile. “Good.” He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips. A kiss against your knuckles. A kiss against the jut of your wrist. And the words fall from his lips into your ear like your judgment can repent a guilty conscience. “I meant it, when I said to stop wasting your time. You want me to let you in? So listen. Stop wasting your time. On me.” 

He pulls away, only to see your eyes flash open. That’s when you bite back a sob.

You blink, and tears fall down your cheeks in a race to gather beneath your chin, just to dribble down the sides of your nose. “I want you. How many times do I have to say it? You. I want you. I know you don’t think you deserve love, but you do. You do.”

There’s a moment where he thinks he might ruin everything. He can feel the words building behind his throat, the way everything feels tight and tense and like he can’t breathe. But there’s also something smaller, something gentler. It’s a strange feeling, one that’s been building in his chest and kindling every time you speak.

“Typical,” Scaramouche says, but he’s reaching to cup your face, thumbing away at the tears and pressing his lips to the corner of your eyes.

[kyuuppi]

HEAR ME OUT. Genshin Men as your ex, like what would they do during the healing process? Would they beg for you back, try to get you jealous, etc.

I LOVE UR WRITING AND FORMAT XX YOU'RE LITERALLY AMAZING.

Ft. Zhongli; Xiao; Tighnari; Scaramouche

⚠️tw: manipulation (Scaramouche); bad end/angst (Xiao; Zhongli)

Every cell in my body resisting the urge to make them yandere–

⭐ Zhongli

To be frank, Zhongli is no stranger to the end of relationships.

Having lived through several millennia, Zhongli has watched many friends, enemies, and lovers come and go. 

The moment he met you, he already knew you would someday be the same–such is the nature of mortality.

No matter how much he loved you, you would one day become yet another bittersweet memory–the type that makes his chest ache in the latest hours of the night while the rest of the harbor is sleeping.

Zhongli knew your departure from his life was inevitable…

But he didn’t expect to have to say goodbye so soon–let alone voluntarily.

“I love you, Zhongli. I really do but… we’re just too different. A former archon and a human just weren’t meant to be together. I’m sorry.”

Words he had never dreamed of fall from your lips easily. You had rehearsed it for a while.

He is internally distraught - his chest aches in a way he is not quite familiar with and, for once, he does not know what to say. 

He politely lets you leave - says that he understands and expresses his desire to remain amicable if you will allow it but will keep his distance if that is what you prefer.

He will always be available to share some advice over a cup of tea or osmanthus wine if you should ever need it. The unwritten contract between the of you – the favor and support of a former archon – is unconditional. 

You may find yourself shocked at how easily he lets you go –whether or not you are pleased by it depends on the nature of your true feelings.

Zhongli’s warm smiles and calming words will always remain, albeit now polite rather than intimate.

Outsiders who were unfamiliar with the nature of your previous relationship will not even notice the difference.

It is only a select few - Xiao, a few other adepti, and perhaps the funeral director – who see how the once smoldering embers in Zhongli’s steady gaze have been smothered.

It is only in the darkest hours of night, alone in his study, that Zhongli allows himself to wonder if his divinity is a blessing or a curse.

“It is unfortunate that our journey together must come to an end so soon. I have very much enjoyed our time together and appreciated the honor of witnessing your glory so closely. I will not burden you with my presence but… if you should ever need my assistance or desire my companionship, it is always yours.”

⭐ Xiao

Never in a thousand years would Xiao have imagined he would have someone to call his own.

After centuries of abuse–both inflicted upon him and from him - Xiao had sworn to never put himself in a position that vulnerable again. He will never let someone get close enough to hurt him or be hurt.

Nevertheless, you appeared in his life and shattered every expectation he had ever set.

Through sheer persistence, you smashed your way through his every wall and stole his heart as your own.

You had created an inseverable bond between you two…

...but now you wanted to sever it.

“I don’t think we can be together anymore, Xiao. You have a duty to protect Liyue and that is your top priority. You are tethered to this place. But I want to explore new places… and new people. I’m sorry, Xiao.”

His first reaction is anger, the type that flashed white hot in his gut and burns through his veins.

He did not seek you out – you were the one who forced your way into his life.

No matter how often he rejected you, how much he tried to avoid you, you had repeatedly interjected your way into his routine, bringing him plates of almond tofu and sharing stories of you adventure he had never asked about.

You created the habit for him. You made him expect your presence every day. You gave him new experiences and made him feel things he never knew possible. You made him love you in ways he had never imagined himself capable of–

–only to rip it all away. 

He should have known he was not good enough - he was always just a weapon, a tool, wasn’t he? It is only natural that you would use him too–and that he would one day become useless.

He leaves without a word.

For you, it is almost as if you had imagined his whole existence.

He no longer waits for you atop Wangshu Inn. You no longer feel the sense of someone watching–protecting–you while you take commissions around Liyue. 

 The only indication you have that you had not dreamt the whole thing is the occasional story random citizens, claiming to have been saved from a lawachurl by a ghost with yellow eyes.

You think Xiao has forgotten your entire existence. He disappears from your life so easily.

But to Xiao, it is not easy at all. 

His every thought is plagued by you to the point he wonders if you placed a curse upon him.

While the memory of you once eased his karmic debt, now it only seems to fuel it.

The voices taunt him, remind him of how worthless he is, even to his own lover.

You’re only a weapon of destruction – of course no one would want to be with you. You could never make anyone happy. You can only bring pain.

He suffers alone, brushing off the concern of the other adepti and even Zhongli when his karmic debt seems to get worse, his breakdowns more frequent and more intense than ever before/

It is only when you call his name - whether because you miss him or because you are in danger, than he will allow himself to see you again.

But even as he stands before you, he will not make eye contact.

Not because he does not want to see you but because he does not trust himself to act reasonably if he does.

“Even if the… nature of our relationship has changed, our bond still remains… what I mean is, if you are ever in danger, you should still call my name. I will always protect you...”

⭐ Tighnari

Um… this dude mates for life, how could you do this to him???

Similar to Xiao, he initially just gets kind of angry.

He told you how serious this is for him, how much relationships mean to fennec foxes.

He had asked you over and over again if you were sure before making your relationship official and you had assured him that you were. You said forever.

You had known each other for years before - you knew his personality and his habits. You knew being a forest watcher was his top priority and how long he spent on patrols - nothing has changed so why are your feelings changing?

“I’m sorry, Tighnari, I just… I don’t think I can live like this forever. Working in the forest together was a fun way to pass time but I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to be with you anymore.“

He tries to talk it through - he wants to be logical and compromise with you. He asks you to set boundaries and be specific about your needs so that he has the chance to try to meet them - he will do anything to make this work, you just need to tell him what you need.

But you insist there’s nothing he can do, and without a proper explanation, you leave him behind.

It is easy to fall back into old routines and habits. Even if his lover is gone, the forest never rests.

He goes back to his patrols and reports and lectures – everything is the same as before yet it all feels completely wrong.

The days he used to look forward to – eagerly learning more about the forest he loved and sharing his findings with other curious minds – now feel like little more than a waste of time.

His passion is gone, the once burning desires now doused and his mind is only plagued with memories of you.

Quiet moments late at night in his tent are the worst. 

His bed feels uncharacteristically cold and empty without you in it. The calm night is much too quiet when your voice is not there to hum a tune you heard at the market.

“You’re being incredibly selfish right now – our relationship may be just a way to pass time for you but for me – it's all or nothing. There was no one before you and there will be no one after you. We made a commitment to each other and we need to stick it out. So tell me exactly what the problem is so we can work on it and fix it. Together. We have a whole lifetime to figure this out so don’t just give up on us so easily.”

⭐ Scaramouche

You have to be insane to leave this man - and not just ‘cause he is hot.

If you made it far enough for Scaramouche to let you into his heart, you already know his past. You know what has happened to him and how he feels about people leaving.

There is absolutely no way this will go well for either of you.

Once his heart is broken his immediate response is vengeance and retaliation.

If you think you are leaving him behind – betraying him like everyone else in his life – you have got another think coming.

“I’m serious, scaramouche. I don’t want this anymore. We’re just not meant for each other.”

“Ha– you think you have a choice? I must not have made myself clear – you are mine and you are not going anywhere without me.”

lol oops I made it yandere

While much less openly accommodating as Tighnari, Scaramouche is still willing to listen to your complaints and try to find a solution.

Although he’s possessive and a bit blinded by his own feelings, Scaramouche truly does love you and will do anything he can to make you happy–but only if you are happy with him.

If you physically leave, he will follow you. If you try to find someone else, he is not above getting rid of them. 

Once you enter a relationship with Scaramouch, for as long as the two of you are alive, you will be with each other.

“Do you finally understand? Good. Taking care of those mortal men you wanted to hang around with was starting to become tedious."

[fluffnari]

HEY i saw someone request saying that your requests are open so here i spawned

I was thinking scaramouche and reader cuddling scenarios idk why i just idk just little scenarios of what its like to cuddle him idk idk feel free to write anything u like no pressure

Dont overwork urself <3

HELLO! Thank you for requesting :) My brain rn is filled with nothing but Scaramouche. And for anyone reading this, yes, requests are open :)

Scaramouche acts like he hates the thought of cuddling, but the second you snuggle up to him, feel the comfort that your body heat brings him. He gives in.

Scaramouche will push you away at first but doesn't have the heart to deny you. He'll open his arms with an annoyed expression, welcoming you in. Once in his arms, Scara will hold you tightly, the subtle fear of letting go of you one day and never returning. Makes him hold you just that much tighter.

Scaramouche that when he is drained will act without restraint. Automatically seeking you out and crawling into your arms, wanting to be held too close to you.

Scaramouche, who prefers to be the one holding you, can't help but want the comfort of you holding him so tightly to you, hands brushing through his hair when his sins become too much to bear. When the memories of a past that no longer exists haunt his mind.

Scaramouche feels like he can't love you the way a human can. The words elude him even when you express them. But like this? Entwined together underneath the stars, the actions he does screams, "I love you".

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Scaramouche: I hate you with every inch of my body.

(Y/N) : *looks him up and down* That’s not a lot of inches.

[captaincryolicious]

trapped in misery...

...until he comes to save the day

➳ scaramouche x gn!reader

➳ oneshot ; 1.3k

➳ cw. fluff, hurt/comfort, y/n has no motivation to do anything, scara is ooc but idc i just wanted to write scara comfort

zep's note ; this is so self-indulgent that i'll probably take it down sooner or later heh

content under the cut | masterlist

The clock on your nightstand read two-point-eighteen pm. 

Scintillating rays of the autumn sun filtered through the closed blinds, but through the change of seasons the strength and gentleness of the sun was fading, and they reached you no longer. All that seemed to reach you was an impending feeling of gloom, and you couldn’t shake it off. 

Completely still, you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. At some point your thoughts had been running wild, one miserable thought following another, but by now your mind was empty and blank. It had been hours since you woke up, but your mind ran out of fuel and there was nothing left to think of. Yet, you didn’t move. You didn’t kick off your covers to get up and do something, even though that was probably the best thing to do right now. You couldn’t get yourself to do so, and you remained in bed idly, with no motivation or whatsoever to make a change to your current setting.

Oh, you could come up with plenty of things to do, that wasn’t the problem here. You could grab a book and read a little, get up and grab yourself something to eat, go outside to take a walk to feel better, tidy up your room to be productive, and so on. So many ideas, but they all lost their spark as soon as they popped up. It wasn’t laziness that kept you from acting, you were well aware. No, you wanted to do something, you wanted to get out of your current state, but nothing seemed promising enough to reel you out of that downward spiral. Nothing sparked your interest anymore, not even the things you usually loved to do. 

It was one of those days.

With a sigh, you pulled the covers a little higher up to your chin. You were buried in your soft duvets comfortably, but discomfort still coursed through your being. You wanted to close your eyes and go to sleep, just so that this day was over. You were tired, so so so tired. You didn’t want to feel anymore. And it was still so early in the afternoon. You allowed yourself to curl up into a little ball of misery, your gaze finally straying away from the ceiling as your eyes fluttered close. 

Darkness wrapped around you, literally and figuratively so. 

     “Y/N?” a voice filtered through the door, followed by a curt knock. 

You recognized that voice, and your heart jumped a little. But you didn’t reply, your voice gave in. You couldn’t get yourself to speak so loudly to allow him inside, and you stared at the door with the everlasting sadness lingering in the pit of your stomach. You felt so useless, even something as simple as calling out was too much for you today.

     “Whatever, I’m coming in,” you heard the person mutter, and the door opened. Scaramouche stepped into your room, merely a silhouette as the fickle rays of sunshine barely brought any light to your room. The blinds worked well to shroud your room in darkness. 

Scaramouche was quiet for a while, you felt his eyes observing you as he connected the dots. You, surrounded by darkness, still in bed even though the day had progressed for a big portion already, not saying a word upon his arrival. That could only mean one thing, and he knew all too well. 

     “Y/N…” he spoke, his voice unusually gentle. “You’re doing it again.” 

     “I know,” you whispered. 

     “Can I open the blinds?” Scaramouche asked, though you knew he would do it anyway regardless of your answer. 

     “Go ahead,” you mumbled, not looking forward to the sea of light that would flood your room in a moment. As much as you despised the darkness, it was also strangely… comforting, but in a way that smothered you slowly. 

You had to squint when the blinds no longer filtered out the sunlight from outside, and you pulled up the blankets to cover your face. Scaramouche was doing the right thing, you knew that much. Dwelling in the darkness wouldn’t get you anywhere, but you didn’t feel like being in the light either. 

But your boyfriend knew what to do, so he acted confidently. After all, he had seen you in such a state too many times for his liking, and over time he figured out how to deal with it when you were about to drown in another episode of misery. Though you didn’t act like it, you were always relieved when Scaramouche interfered with those moments. There was nowhere to run when you ran from yourself, and he was your only escape. 

     “You really have to treat yourself better, Y/N,” he lightly scolded you, softly pulling the duvet down to reveal your doleful face. “You look miserable, but I know you’re stronger than this.” 

     “I’m tired of always being strong,” you quietly admitted. “I can’t do it anymore.” 

     “Shut up for a moment,” Scaramouche said, though his tone held no malice. “You say that as if you have to suffer alone. Don’t forget you have me by your side. I may be an ass who doesn’t know much about comforting you, but I’m trying my damn best and I will never let you down. Now scoot over.” 

You did as he asked – or commanded – and made room for him to join you under the covers, like he always did when you were having a miserable day. He was cold, and his presence sent a chill down your spine. But it was a different kind of cold than the one that consumed you today, one that you grew to love. His inhuman form melted against you as he held you close, allowing you to snuggle up against him. Bad thoughts evaporated now that you had him near, his fingertips drawing circles on your back to distract you a little bit. You didn’t know what it was, but simply the idea of having him with you made you feel a lot better. Scaramouche wasn’t the nicest and warmest person, he could be quite harsh and blunt sometimes, but when he knew you needed him the most, he tried his very best to be your comfort. 

And it worked.

     “We’re going to make a plan for today, Y/N,” he started. “Staying in bed all day won’t help you.” 

     “Okay,” you muttered, playing absentmindedly with a strand of his violet hair. 

     “First, you’re going to try to eat a little,” Scaramouche began, still drawing little shapes on your back. “It doesn’t have to be much, just try it or I’ll have to force-feed you.” – you smiled a little, making a face at him – “Then we’re going out to do some grocery shopping and we’re going to treat you to something nice. As much as I hate to admit it, you know I can’t cook for shit so you’ll have to help me with that. Is that okay with you?” 

You nodded. As much as you didn’t feel like doing anything, the idea of doing things together with Scaramouche made it a little easier to find motivation. He was right; staying in bed all day wouldn’t make you feel any better. Going out with him would. So many times had that been proven. You knew it would do you good. The male knew very well what you needed in moments like these. Him. It was as if he possessed magic, motivating you when nothing else could. This guy singlehandedly pierced through your misery as if it were nothing. 

     “It’s time to get up, Y/N,” he announced. “Can you do that for me?” 

His cold fingers folded between yours as he got up and slowly helped you as well. You swung your feet over the edge of the mattress and rose, gaining a rare little smile from Scaramouche – one that made your heart swell with the smallest speck of joy. With your hand still in his, he guided you out of your room, away from your little pit of misery. 

He did it again.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

HEAR ME OUT, ROYAL AU BUT WITH SCARAMOUCHE

Prince Scaramouche

Tags: Royal AU, Scaramouche, Imagine, Prince!Scaramouche, Princess!Reader, Scaramouche x Reader, Mommy Issues Galore, Lowkey Enemies To Lovers? , Scaramouche is Just Bad w Feelings, Oneshot

Warnings: Mentions Of Scara Being Mean

Scaramouche is an Inazuman prince with mother issues, and you’re a caring princess from Liyue visiting for diplomatic reasons. What could go wrong?

* ˚ ✦ 947 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [30/11/22] ❞

Imagine, Scaramouche is the prince of Inazuma.

He is cold, calculated, and untrusting. He rejects any speck of emotion, whether positive or negative. He loathes his subjects and never ventures outside the castle gates to see the outside world. Since his mother, Ei, cast him aside, he has done nothing but wallow in the confines of his room as the useless, unwanted prince.

He used to have lofty dreams for his future in the kingdom, filled with eternal affection for his citizens and a desire to ascend to the throne in order to better the lives of those who lived beneath him. Yet, for his own mother to consider him an undesirable son, he did not appear to be fit to rule with the iron fist that she hoped of him.

So, imagine his surprise when his mother invited outside guests to their home, and asked him to be present during their visit.

Royals, from Liyue, in fact.

Scaramouche was also thoroughly interested to learn that while not all the royals themselves were able to attend, they sent a group of ambassadors in their steed. But that is not what caught his interest.

No, it was you.

The visiting princess, and the only royal hailing from Liyue who had arrived for diplomatic relations.

Imagine, that as the prince is staring daggers into your back, you make eye contact, and find that his expression is one of an evil, shit-eating smirk. Not even five minutes in Inazuma, and you have created a bright red target on your back for the royal family.

Scaramouche is the polar opposite of you; where he is frigid and wary, you are warm and compassionate. It irritates him more and more as he gets to know you. In some ways, he may identify with your demeanour as it reminds him of shards of his former self. However, it just serves to infuriate him. He's been wounded by Ei many times, so forgive him for not inviting a stranger into his home with open arms. Who's to tell your sweet disposition isn't all a ruse?

But it isn't, and he knows that. Scaramouche understands that he can't simply go out and play cruel pranks on you to get you to crack, but that doesn't mean he isn't trying. At least, in subtle ways that is. He'll mock you, taunt you, and make catty remarks. Scaramouche would never intentionally ruin Liyue and Inazuma's relationship, but he occasionally believes that if he acts out, Ei will acknowledge him. Even if the attention is negative.

You, on the other hand, give him attention, which he desires from anyone who is willing to offer it to him. But, just as quickly as he becomes attached to someone who makes him feel vulnerable, he pushes them away. But not with you.

Once he quits attempting to reveal your 'true' nature during your visit, he gradually but steadily eases into being comfortable around you. While he is still harsh at times, his jokes take on a more lighthearted tone. And you eventually become friends. At least, according to you. Scaramouche laughed in your face the first time you called him so, despite the fact that he knows it's true.

Perhaps there's another reason he's so infuriated by your smile, and how you seem to make his pulse beat faster every time you come close. When he cracks mean jokes, you may respond with one of your own. Of course, this is all in good fun, but it makes him dizzy since you don't even react badly to his jokes. Curse you for being so patient and also so amusing.

Scaramouche has developed a crush on you, but since he denounces all his feelings as stupid, he believes his infatuation with you is clearly just being annoyed that you, well, exist.

You might be a kind and warm princess, but not a stupid one.

That’s why, when one day, Scaramouche decided to make a teasing joke about how “you wanna kiss me sooo bad”, you do it. For once you got him to shut up, but left him in a sputtering, flushed mess in the process. After composing himself from the mental combustion he just experienced, he throws his massive hat at you and walks away with the back of his hand shielding his cheeks.

Later that night, you paid his chambers a visit, hat in hand. Scaramouche was about to shut the door in your face, but not before you wedged your foot between it. Of course he is blushing again, because how can he face you after the events of earlier?

You make your way into his room, and plop down on a chair. Beckoning him to come sit with you, he does so begrudgingly.

Imagine Scaramouche, for the first time in his life, being able to talk about his feelings without feeling sick. And, as he tries to communicate his feelings to you in yet another dumb, teasing way, you kiss him again, the words dying in his throat. You tell him you share his feelings. You also suspect you may have had just broken him, because the words he is attempting to compose in his mind are being vocalized in vain.

Days pass since that night, and Scaramouche is still awkwardly trying to figure out how to express his feelings to you nicely.

But, you make him kind again. You make him trusting.

That’s why it hurts all the more when you have to leave him. Of course your stay wasn’t permanent.

That’s why it also makes him happiest, when Ei tells him she received a proposal from Liyue two weeks later for his hand in marriage.

[multifandomwaifu]

Comfort [Scaramouche x GN Reader]

Fandom: Genshin Impact (video game)

Pairing: Scaramouche (The Wanderer) x GN Reader

Warning(s): spoilers for 3.2 story quest, mother Nahida (?), supportive MC, Probably OOC Scaramouche, Comfort and fluff, and what I think would be cute to happen in the next patch :) but most likely it's not how it goes ;;

A/N: Scara brainrot rn. Ty for all the likes on my works. I have been hating them lately but I keep posting my drafts for you to enjoy :)

Words: 1,290

The stars were painted under the abyssal night sky, decorating the black canvas with luminous dots, offering a show to gaze upon. The cold Sumeru air seemed to accompany your stargazing, it was silent, just like you liked it. A night for yourself, it was just you and your thoughts. So much happened lately, you were soaking up the feeling of laziness, doing absolutely nothing then just recovering your strength and relaxing. A well-deserved break, for a hero like you.

You have been waiting lately for The Balladeer to wake up, sitting on the step of a dainty cottage near Port Ormos, the thoughts of your conversation with Nahida flashing in your head. 

 When you mentioned that you’ve been encountering the sixth of the fatui member before on occasional times, and had a slight history with them, Nahida was more than pleased to hear that. No, but really, her big green orbs turned the size of kitchen plates. “You probably caught his eye if he kept you on his radar. Always meeting on such unfortunate events too” she said busying herself in scanning the rows of materials offered in front of you. She insisted on you accompanying her to the market, the villagers being more than happy to see both their Archon, and their hero, shopping together.

Why she called you here and for what...that was beyond your knowing. She was simply persistent about you being present there.

This conversation dulled into the back of your mind, the scene some weeks before materializing back before your eyes. The cracked floors and the giant robot looming over his fallen form. You wanted to do everything in your power to be by his side, cradling his face into your palms and checking his injuries..but you couldn't.

You couldn't show everyone you cared for the enemy. That's what he was, right? Just an enemy to you, you had to get ride of the fatuis. You had to find your sibling, and get home..That's all.

 “Do you like him?” 

You looked at Nahida, wide-eyed and shocked,a tremble in your grasp being evident before the weapon you held materialized away, the facade, the walls you built up around the others, cracking down because you knew..Nahida already knew that all.

 “I love him dearly, and I’d do anything if it means that he’s happy and safe.” And when she left you, a slight bounce to her step, the Archon turned to give you a friendly smile, her features showing only gratitude. “You’re a good person [Y/N]… Whatever you do for him, I know that he’ll appreciate it.”  

You walked back inside, to see him, the desire being so strong, taking a seat down at his bedridden body, the stool under you being still warm, sign that Nahida was present here until a few minutes until you popped in.

He woke up with a start, in the middle of the night. He calls your name in a furious manner, a bit irked and groggy, but you reply, letting your hands grasp his cold ones into your much warmer ones.  

“Nahida and I patched up your wounds, so it might be a bit uncomfortable. I am sorry for any discomfort that you might feel right now.” He was silent for a second, staring confused at your entwined hands only to take move his judging gaze to take in your features, the troubled look, the small tremble of your lips when he lets your thumb gently rub his beaten-up and bloody knuckles.

 “Why are you here? I thought after what I did that you would despise me. That you would pray to the gods above to punish me greater than ever before. But here you are...by my bedside, rubbing my hand and giving me..." Here he was, was he going to confess to you? Having the same feelings like you? Finally admitting there was some slight spark there? ”...that pathetic look." Maybe not..

 “Now I’m just utterly confused, thrilled, and curious… you’re here, still by my side. Why?"

You looked at him, a smile forming upon your lips, the same friendly gaze you gave him back then being present on your features. It made a pang and sharp pain go thru his chest but he ignored it, refusing to show any signs of inferiority, even through the walls he’s made, which had fallen off its height for quite a while. “I care for you so much.”  

All the betrayals he faced before were staged with underlying reasons to care, but you seem to differ from all those people in his past. So when he asked why you cared so much about him, after everything he did, and how many times he tried to end you, your answer continues to resonate with the emotion you always gave to him.

 "I care because it’s you. You deserve the good things in life. You deserve the love and support. You are an admirable and strong person. You are yourself, Scaramouche, The sixth of the fatui. ” 

When you cup his cheeks, and he feels the soft touch of warm hands caressing him so delicately, his walls started to crumble. You continue to shower him with words sweet enough that there was no need to honey your voice, not around him at least.

 “And my love is the bonus besides me looking up to you and what you can do. The power you hold...I care for you, and I love you. That’s why I’m always here by you.” 

Your hands held his two hands together, and you see his gaze softening up, scanning all your features to find any trace of you lying or trying to use him. But he found none.

“Can I hug you? Can I hold just like you deserve?" You ask softly, and he lets you hold him, his head finding comfort in the crook of your neck, taking your scent in. 

He ushers you to the futon he was sleeping on. His body shakes for a second, and you hold him tighter, hearing heart-wrenching sobs that make him look so vulnerable right now.

You stroke his hair, fingers itching to wrap around his body but remember the tube scars locations on his upper back, taking caution in touching the area only to opt-in wrapping a hand around his waist. “I adore you so much..” You whisper softly into his ear, starting to murmur softly so he knows how much adoration and love you held for him.

You remained in this position, giving him the comfort and all the support that he needed. When he’s done, he asks you to sleep with him for the night, and there was no way you could decline. Once he lays both of you down, your hands wipe away the tear strains.  

”I still don’t understand much… What is there to love about me? I am a monster, I tried to kill you [Y/N]! I wanted to murder everything you held dear, how can you even --" His babbling was stopped by an index finger pressing against his cold lips, his eyes rounding in confusion at you.

 “Everything.”  

 “What does that even mean..? You love all of me? Even after what I have done?” He asks out, blinking twice at your small nod and shrug.

“I love all parts of you, and I will continue to love you, even if the world will frown upon us, I will be there, holding your hand and cheering you on. Cause you deserve the whole world."   

[windser]

college hockey scara !!

a/n: short little drabble. i still have something going for your request anon but this came out too easy not to write.

He gets like this sometimes, after a tough game or a long day at practice. Others find it difficult to differintate between his usual scowl and tension, but you've learned to note the additional coils sitting tight under his musculature that prickle his mood.

Scaramouche never enjoys asking for help, but he's learned to adjust to your meddling.

At the very least gains an incentive from it.

Tonight, however, it had taken considerably less conviction to get him to relax. The man only putting a fight for the sake of it when your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt.

A scowl and a grunt later, he's spread out against the bed on his stomach while you hover above.

Your hands slide along the dip of his spine, pressing firmly into the deep indentation in the skin. You weren’t skilled by any sorts, but somehow just the right pressure and touch seemed to flow from your fingertips. There was always a plentiful supply of taut muscles for you to practice on, some born from stress but most from overuse.

Sometimes he was vocal about where he needed relief, other times observant eyes were able to pick up on the shift of his hips that guided you to the right spot.

And when it was found-

Well he had a way of letting you know.

The first muffled whine that spilled past his lips had you pulling back with a start. There were times you pushed a little too hard and needed guidance. It was his quick reflexes, however, that returned your hands to the warmth of his back; letting you know that it was not the case. Turning his head away from the pillow, he muttered a quiet ‘keep going’ before his indigo eyes slipped closed.

Albeit more hesitantly, your hand roams the perimeter of his back, digits walking across the broad surface and knuckles kneading away twisted knots. You learned to be careful with showing too much enthusiasm towards physical affection. Not out of lack of wanting too, but more out of care towards limiting encouragement. Though Scaramouche hardly needed assistance in that department.

“Archons… that feels good.”

It was more the texture of his voice than the content that has you squirming from your perch. The implications are too similar to another act all together and it piques your curiosity towards a darker setting. Heat draws from below to the tips of your ears and a quick shake of your head is used to clear your thoughts.

“Scaramouche!”

He snickers beneath you, his obvious amusement a telltale sign of the game played. The heat of his gaze catches your face but you refuse to acknowledge it out of spite. You’re sure, however, that the added pressure of your touch is enough of a response.

“Screaming my name already. I forget, who is touching whom?”

A soft ‘tsk’ wedges between your teeth, a more favorable sound than the groan of exasperation that tends to be more common in situations like this. The snarky forward was a constant bait that you instinctively rose to, again and again.

The lines in his back were fewer and far between, the taut pulls less noticeable visibly and hopefully physically as well. His request was more than fulfilled, your touches reduced to simple caresses below the nape. The lack of intention was enough to let your mind wander to a place of appreciation and bated relief. It was rare to find him willing to accept frivolous affections, often deeming them underserved despite your willingness to give them freely. His past might be behind him, but it was still dense enough for you to grasp and understand.

When Scaramouche came to you gradually, it was hard not to take notice of the touched starved nerves swelling under his skin. He was never good at hidden the brunt of his emotions. His tongue lied well, but his gaze always wanted.

Needed.

When your eyes eventually refocus you’re able to take in the warm gaze watching you carefully. There is a tint of concern at the tilt of his lips, a manufactured mute button in place of his hilarity.  Crafting a reassuring smile of your own, you’re pleased to see it taken in stride as the male snorts and returns his chin to the seat of his arms. The wiggle of his hip, however, let you know that he’s still conscious of the shift.

Catching on to the ends of his frisky nature, you find yourself lowered to line up your forms, lips placed precariously by his ear. He can feel the upward turn of your lips, but its not the touch that returns every inch of tightness previously released from his body.

It's the hitched moan that leaves your lips.

This time, he decides, games are well and over.

[bubblefina]

No Puppet Strings Attached 3

Summary: When Katsuragi brings a puppet back to Tatarasuna, saying that he found him wandering the shores, the village and blade smiths took him in as their own. Something about the puppet struck a young girl's heart. Despite him not having a heart of his own, the puppet felt something that would seem to be impossible for someone like him to feel.

Pairings: Scaramouche x f!reader

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/n was quieter the next morning, which was odd for someone like her. She didn’t try to make conversation while eating breakfast, nor did she nag at Niwa to pick up after himself before he left to go to the smithy. She was just…silent.

Not only that, but she decided not to go to the smithy either that day. Likewise, she stayed at home and did some chores that were piling up. Furthermore, she washed the clothes and cleaned the house. Everything was spick and span. Sitting at a table, she mindlessly sipped her cup of tea, trying to clear her mind. She stared down at the reflection of her within the tea, remembering her past encounters with the boy.

Her heart began to beat faster until she squealed. Clasping her hands over her face, she fell backwards, mumbling different versions of ‘how did that happen’ ‘why did I say that’ ‘why did he say that’.

It felt as if the room was suffocating her at this point. She dumped the rest of the tea into an empty basin and left. She wanted to avoid an area heavily populated with a lot of people, which would be hard because people were setting up for the sword dance.

It was weird having her walk past a group of people and not ask them what they were up to. Some people were making streamers, while others were sewing clothes special for the dance itself. 

She found herself in a little ledge area that was barred off by a wooden fence. The fence itself looked as if it needed some touch up, which wasn’t surprising considering the rough weather the past winter.

She looked off into the distance, the slight winder wind brushing against her cheeks. All she could think about was last night. It wasn’t a horrible thing to think about, but she wished that she could think about something else for once.

Lost in her thoughts, someone approached her from behind. A soft voice asked her why she was there. Y/n turned around and saw Miyo, she held a basket full of different kinds of food in her hand against her hip. 

“I just need to clear my head.” y/n turns around again to look off into the distance, Miyo walks up to her, putting the basket on the ground.

“Well, if it requires you to come all the way out here, where there is almost no one in sight, then it must be something serious.”

“There are some people who come out here, like Hikari. He makes rounds every once in a while.”

“Don’t change the subject, what’s wrong?”

Y/n bit her lip, wondering if she should tell Miyo about what happened. Since she didn’t have a mother growing up, Miyo may have been the only person who could have filled that role. 

“What does it mean when someone calls you beautiful?” 

Miyo looked taken aback, then her brows furrowed as she took in the question.

“Did someone call you beautiful?”

“T-that's not the question I'm asking. What does it mean.”

Miyo chuckles, “From what I know, it may mean that the person likes you. You can’t just call anyone beautiful, the word has a deeper level of appreciation than just any other compliment.”

Y/n’s face began to heat up once more. Did the boy like her? Did she like him? These types of feelings are not easy to process, especially for a person who never had them before.

Miyo had to return to her chores, leaving y/n alone in her thoughts once more. Perhaps she was putting too much thought into what had happened, it could have been a slip of the tongue. What was so special about the boy calling her beautiful anyway.

She leaned against the fence, wanting to soak in the air for a little longer until she had to go back. She had leaned too far for a moment, putting too much weight onto the already weak wooden frame. 

The wood began to crack, and much to her surprise, snapped in half. Before she could react to what was happening, she began to fall forward. Since there was nothing to hold onto to hold her back, her body passed the ledge, and she began to fall for a moment before she grappled onto vines growing from the bottom of the ledge. 

Her heart pounded, anxiety filling her veins. The drop-down wasn’t enough to kill her, but it was certain to leave an injury. 

Through her loud heaving breaths, she yelled for help. Useless, no one was around. Except for Hikari, and she didn’t know when he would come around for his rounds. 

The vines couldn’t hold her weight, they began to snap, and before long all of them broke, and she plunged towards the ground. Miraculously, a hefty tree branch managed to break her fall, before she fell onto the ground completely. The impact wasn’t as strong as it would have been, but it was still painful.

She felt an increasing pain in her ankle, as well as what felt like burning on her cheeks. Her kimono was tattered in many places, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

She could only lay there in defeat as slow sobs began to escape her throat.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

 The smithy was naturally chatty. It was only the middle of the day, the metal of the swords that were being battered could be heard from way outside. It was just a normal day for the blade smiths.

It was normal until a young man ran into the smithy, his hand on the door as he frantically looked around.

“Niwa!” he shouted, “It’s y/n, she hurt herself.”

Niwa put down the sword he was working on. His eyes slightly shook as he took in the words.

“What…what happened?” Niwa asks.

“She fell off the ledge near the outskirts of the village. It's the one with the fence that needed fixing.”

Niwas feet began to move on their own, and both him and the young man started to run back towards the village. Katsuragi followed, and the boy watched for a few seconds before he too ran after them.

They reached a house that belonged to the village medic. A few people were in the room already, but they cleared out once Niwa and the others rushed inside.

“Y/n?1” Niwa asks, fear in his voice as he sees his sister being wrapped in bandages. Her hair is a mess, eyes red from crying and scratches on her cheeks.

“Niwa?” she whispers.

Niwa hugs her, to which she returns with a wince.

“Careful there. There may be bruises underneath. She’s lucky that she isn’t unconscious.” the medic says, finishing up the wrappings on her ankle.

“What were you thinking? Why did you go there, of all places? You know the winter was bad this year, a lot of the outdoor furnishings and boundaries need repairing.” Niwa begins to scold his sister.

“I just…” she notices kabukimono standing near the entrance of the door, he looks worried too, “I needed some air. I leaned forward too much and the fence snapped.”

“Well, you won't be leaning on anything any time soon. Your ankle had some damage done to it.” The medic slightly squeezes her ankle, causing y/n to yelp.

“Is it serious?” Katsuragi asks.

“No, not life-threatening. I don’t know how she did it, but there aren’t any serious injuries. Just keep off of this foot for a week, and it’ll be fine.”

“Don’t worry, I won't let her out of the house until she heals.” Niwa says.

“B-but the sword dance is in a week, I can’t miss that!” Y/n argues, but Niwa doesn’t listen. He simply picks her up in his arms and begins to walk back to their home.

“Niwa, I’m sure that in a week I’ll be fine. Please don’t make me miss the sword dance.”

“I can’t take any chances, you need to rest up and not put too much pressure on that ankle of yours. I’ll swing by every hour or so to check up on you.”

When they got back to their home, Niwa placed y/n on her futon. He brought a glass of water and a small bowl of snacks, so she wouldn’t have to get up to eat.

“I’ll be back, just rest up for now.” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Is something wrong?” Katsuragi asks the boy.

They had continued practicing for the sword dance, but unfortunately all the boy could do was trip over his own feet. It's as if his mind was elsewhere. The boy mumbled an apology before sitting down to take a break.

“We’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t tell us what's going on. You were doing perfectly fine yesterday.” Katsuragi sits beside him.

The boy's voice is caught in his throat. He stares at Niwa for a split second before looking down again. Only the three of them were in the occupied space.

“Just concerned…” he trailed off.

“About what?” Niwa asks.

He bit his lip before continuing, “about y/n”

Katsuragi and Niwa glanced at each other.

“About her injury? Don’t worry, she’s fine, in fact she’s probably fast asleep in her room right now.” Niwa assures the boy, but it doesn’t seem to work.

“I don’t think it's that simple. I’ve never felt this way before. This squeezing feeling in my chest area, as if I saw her in her injured state, that's all I could think about.”

“Your heart? It felt as if it was being squeezed?” Katsuragi asks.

The boy's eyes shake for a second, he looks as if he is in despair.

“I don't…” he trails off once more, “I don’t have a heart.” 

The room remained silent. No one knew how to respond to his sudden confession of not owning a vital organ that every human needs to live.

“I am merely a puppet, there is nothing human about me.”

Now in deeper anguish, the boy sighed, afraid to look into the eyes of the two people who he considered to be the closest with.

“Nonsense,” Niwa stated, “You’re just as much of a human as anyone else.”

“Niwa, I don’t think you understand. I was created by the-”

“Listen to me,” Niwa places his hands on the boys’ shoulder, “I am well aware of what a puppet means, but that doesn’t mean that you are any different from the rest of us.” 

Katsuragi also joins in, hand on the boy's back to show support.

“You are a human, just a human that lacks a heart. The rest is as human as anyone else as far as I can see.” Niwa smiles, reassuring the boy.

“Then how can my chest feel like it was being closed when I saw y/n in the state she was in.” 

Both Katsuragi and Niwa laugh.

“You’re worried about her, because you obviously care a lot about her,” Katsuragi swings his arm around the back of the boy's neck, bringing him closer, “catching feelings for little ol y/n aren’t we?”

The boy becomes flustered, doing his hardest to get away from Katsuragi, but Katsuragi obviously being stronger doesn’t budge away from teasing the boy.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The night of the sword dance was here. The village set up different decorations, especially around the small stage where the dance would be taking place. 

Small lanterns set up all over, which would be ignited when it got close to sunset.

Both Katsuragi and Kabukimono had dressed in brand-new kimonos special for the occasion. After the both of them were dressed, they waited until the sky turned dark, and then made their way over towards the stage.

There was a fairly big crowd, the entire village was there. The elderly, children, all of the above.

The boy tugged at his sleeves, slightly nervous. He looked around in the crowd.

There was the old man who he helped a few weeks ago to clean out his yard. A woman who needed help carrying baskets of food back to the village. A man who he helped carry wood to rebuild some areas around the village.

He continued to scan the crowd until his eyes landed on a special figure. It was y/n, very front of the crowd. She was sitting down on a cut down log, Niwa sitting beside her, so she wouldn’t have to get up for something.

Both of them locked eyes with each other. Y/n gives a smile, and slightly claps with her hands. The boy exhales, it feels as if the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. Y/n shouts good luck before the start of the dance.

Both Katsuragi and the boy danced together with grace. Following each other's movements swiftly, handing off the crafted claymore to one another before it was thrown into the air. The boy had flipped forward and caught it in his hand, signaling the end of the dance.

The crowd began to clap and cheer. Heaving through exhaustion, both of them left the stage and went to talk to people amongst the crowd. Niwa had left y/n for a brief moment to talk to both of them, much to her displeasure. She, too, wanted to talk amongst the crowd, but she couldn’t.

After a few minutes, she noticed the boy walking away from the crowd. He looked as if he was walking towards the wooded area the both of them were at a week ago. Hoping that Niwa wouldn’t notice, she crept off of her seat and followed the boy to the wooded area.

Her ankle had gotten better over the past week, but she still couldn’t put too much pressure on it, or else it would start to ache. Her walking would look like limping, which it was.

After what felt like ages, she had finally caught up to him. He was standing in the same spot as last time, but he looked conflicted.

“Has this become your new favorite place?” she asks, limping towards him.

He looks shocked to see her, but immediately walks towards her and takes her hand, not wanting her to walk more than she needed to.

“You came all this way?” he asks.

“Well, it’s not like I had any other way to talk to you. You didn’t even come over to see me once when the dance was over.”

He looks down, “I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to be rude.”

She lifts his face up with a finger on his chin, “You weren’t being rude, I just wanted to let you know that you did amazing out there. Both you and Katsuragi did great.”

“Thank you… I wasn’t expecting to see you there, if I’m being honest.”

“Haha, yeah, me neither, but Niwa surprisingly was adamant of me going. Something about you being worried about me.”

If the boy truly did have a heart, at this moment it would have skipped a beat. He felt slightly flustered, but he brushed it off.

“I was. I couldn’t help but think that you were outside ‘thinking’ because of what I said the night before.”

She slowly began to sit down on the bloom blossoms, he followed her.

“Well you aren’t wrong, what you had said…what both of us said kept repeating in my mind over and over again, and I didn’t know what to take from it. It was the first time someone had called me that.” 

“It was the first time I had called someone that as well.”

Both of them shared a laugh. For once the coldness in the air didn’t matter, both of them felt as if a flame had ignited inside them both. As if their company had created a warmth that could withstand even the harshest of weathers.

“Did you mean it…what you said?” y/n asks.

“Of course. I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so…captivating before. The sight has been ingrained in my mind, too.”

Y/n’s hand crawled towards him. Her fingers slightly interlaced with his, she leaned in slightly, and he began to follow. Both of their faces were inches away from each other. There was slight hesitation from both of them.

“Do you want to?” the boy asks.

“Yes” she whispers back.

Both of them inch closer until their lips touch. It was a weird contrast, his lips felt cold against hers, but she didn’t mind. He leaned in more, caressing the back of her neck with his hand. 

As if time itself had stopped at that moment, neither of them really paid attention to how long they had been attached to one another. It just felt too good to let go. During each passing moment, both of their bodies came closer and closer, until there was not even a crack to be seen in between them.

Y/n’s hand ventured and gripped onto his kimono, she needed something to compose herself with, or rather something that she could hold onto for support. 

The boy could feel her heart pounding through the pulse in her neck. He, too, wished he could share the same bodily reaction, but that wasn’t a problem. Whatever heavy feeling he had felt in his chest was now replaced with something elevated. It felt like something was fluttering, butterflies swarming around.

The feeling only intensified when he went back in for more. Her lips were hypnotic, so soft against his. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to feel like this again, so he wanted to savor every moment, every movement, every noise.

When they finally did let go, both stared into each other's eyes for a brief moment. Y/n smiled and leaned her head on his chest, the boy leaned his head on hers.

Whatever feeling this was inside of him, he didn’t want to let it go. It made him feel alive, for a puppet like him, it’s all he ever wanted to feel. He may not have his own heart, but the beat of hers against his own skin was enough to make him feel like a human.

Niwa was right, he’s just as much of a human as anyone else, even if he didn’t have a heart. 

[redactedbimbo]

Hello

Scaramouche/ wanderer sounds like Meddle About by Chase Atlantic 😋

Thats it, thats my ted talk thank you for listening

[silence-burns]

Scaramouche (Wanderer): NSFW headcanons

Fandom: Genshin Impact 

Scaramouche wants to be as dominant as possible, especially in the beginning of a relationship. 

He would be all in for sloppy, messy kisses and holding you firmly by the neck when you fight him for control. Scaramouche would definitely bite your lip on purpose and taste the blood.

He's loud. 

He talks all the time and the more you blush, the further he'll go. He'll make sure you understand how your skin feels underneath his fingers and how he loves the shiver that runs down your back every time he buries his hands in your hair to bring you closer.

Scaramouche will constantly switch between degrading you, pointing out how weak you are, and praising you for doing so well. He just never shuts up. 

He curses a lot, especially when he's getting closer and feels like he's losing control of himself.

When things get too heavy, he sometimes forgets about the words, though. Breathless, he often moans your name in what might've been a plea but he'd deny it. He gasps when he hits the right spot, the one that makes you see the stars too, but he'd never admit how he loves to hold you tight in that moment.

He'd rather bury his face in the crook of your neck, biting hard into the soft skin there.

Scaramouche leaves bite marks and scratches all over your body. Some he makes as a sign of you belonging with him, in a way closer than he'd ever allow others to see, but some he doesn't even remember, too caught in the bliss to realize how hard he's holding onto you.

Scaramouche is incredibly possessive, which is understandable given how much he's lost during his long and tumultuous life. It makes him prone to overreacting whenever there's the slightest possibility you might take interest in someone else. 

If someone was stupid enough to approach you with Scaramouche in the vicinity, there's a high chance Scaramouche would wipe the floor with them just to prove himself superior.

Especially if you were watching.

[genshinimpactlife]

Brain worms are worming today Imagine a thief and overall troublemaker s/o who has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. Like they see something valuable and shiny? Mine now. Random anemo slimes bouncing around? Lets see how high we can fly. Yes s/o can and will steal from dangerous people. s/o is also a wandering kind of person and visits different kinds of places and causes trouble there Now think this kind of s/o with Wanderer/Steve.

Interactions with him would be like:

(Fighting treasure hoarders because s/o wanted to steal their treasure)

S/o: I got 3 men down!

Wanderer: well i got 6!

S/o: Slow down and leave some for me you lil sh/t!

Wanderer: Sounds like a skill issue to me

alternatively:

Wanderer: What do you have?

S/o: A knife and stolen treasure!

Wanderer: L I got a bigger knife and more stolen treasure

Headcannons pls <3

Troublemaker S/O Headcanons

The Wanderer

Oh, the two of them would cause so much trouble together. They are notorious around Inazuma.

Their relationship started as the two of them just trying to one-up the other, enemies to lovers, if you will

"I can lift two crates" "Oh wow, I can lift four. You aren't even on my LEVEL."

100% the two of them created a game like ping pong where they smack different slimes back and forth, and pyro slimes add an extra layer of danger.

They love pestering the Arataki gang, starting a rivalry with them.

They broke into Itto's house and released all of his Onikabuto after Itto released bad drawings of wanted signs of them all over Inazuma.

"You see those Treasure hoarders over there… I bet I can beat more of them than you. "Oh, you're on!"

Both of you are relatively equal in power, so your competitions are always a close call. Many times you two have argued over who won.

Anytime the two of you get caught, you try to blame it on the other and run away, leaving them to deal with the mess.

The Wanderer knows his own limits now, yet you do not. So you're always running off challenging much bigger people, and the Wanderer is always chasing after your ass to save you.

"I could have taken him! "He was 7 FEET TALL AND HAD THREE SWORDS"

You two are constantly bickering with each other like an old married couple.

Yet the moment someone dares to make a negative comment about one of you, the other is going ham on their ass.

This was a lot of fun! I hope you enjoy <3

Tag List Link:

@rainbowleo @okadahimeko @0-kuki-0 @cyberpandas-blog

[kyuuppi]

Wanderer has a lot of anxiety but refuses to acknowledge it as such. When you try to tell him that imagining a detailed, drama-esque scenario including alternative plotlines before every social interaction and that immediately assuming something terrible must have happened to you when you're just five minutes late from work isn't normal, he refuses to believe you.

[fluffnari]

Wandermouche cuddle prompt extended: early relationship him crawling into bed to hold you while you sleep because he would never he caught doing that while you're awake. He thinks you don't know that he does it, but you absolutely do.

You would offer cuddles and he would refuse quickly. Cuddles? Don't ask again, those are beneath him... Until he thinks you're asleep. You're breathing soft, heart rate calm, eyelashes kissing your cheeks, ones he imagined kissing before.

Arms looking empty and so very tempting to him, Wanderer would climb silently onto the bed. Scooting so close to you and wrapping your arms around him. If you move he'd tense up with momentary fear that you would wake up. Instead, you tighten your hold around him and Wanderer is comforted.

You smile, having been awake. Just like every other night, he does this. You hope one day, he is comfortable enough to do this when you're awake.

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Childe : Are you the big spoon or little spoon?

Scaramouche : I’m a knife.

(Y/N) : He’s the little spoon.