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thescribeoflostmemories · 2 years

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Random oneshots Fatui Harbingers

4k word count

Fatui Harbingers x gn!reader

(Yes all, but in separate forms) (unedited) (reader is an adult)

No yandere well uh… Dottore and Signora's questionable, but other than that it's all just fluff!

Various readers like;

cook! Reader, secretary! Reader, dancer! Reader, ect.

Spoilers for Scaramouche's part (hints at his origins)

Platonic or at least I tried to make it like that. And yes, these are heavily inspired by other media. (ps. I did this instead of studying for my economics class. RIP my grades, bes)

T: swear words, implied relationship (Capitano)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Childe x Toymaker! Reader

“What do you mean you broke it?!”

Your patience is wearing thin as it is the nth time this year that the strange Snezhnayan man had ordered from your little shop. You’re a bit peeved that he kept breaking the toys as if it weren’t any big deal, you’ve poured your heart and soul into this damn it! Eying the piece of cloth in hand and a needle in the other. Was all your work just a waste?

The ginger haired scratches his head. “ Look I’m sorry, doll. But can you atleast cut me some slack? I’ll quadruple the pay for the next one!” He clasps his hands together, hoping you’ll say yes.

“Childe, I’m a person. Not some machine.”Sighing as the incense that’s supposed to make you feel calm fails to do its purpose.

“I know that! Just please, just this once. My little brother is expecting a gift.. PLEASE!” He sat next to you while you just kept sewing.

“If my craft is too flimsy for you, go find someone else then!” Feels like he just stomped over your heart.

They were like your children, and he knows it. Tears pricked, threatening to fall. Each toy made by you was given names, you even remembered who you sold it to. One of the reasons why you sold some to Childe is because of his close ties to another frequent customer.

“I can’t, because I love what you made for them.” That made you stop with your stitching. Right now he's next to you, head on the wooden floor in a child's pose.

"Childe… "That earned a sigh from you. "On one condition… " a wave of relief washed over him. " A week from now, I need you to do something for me."

And that's how Childe had skipped a few work days at the Northland Bank to get a very specific plant. A flower that blooms in a very perilous location.

Meanwhile, you were actually trying to make a very indestructible toy fit for Childe's brother. The wind chimes sang a song before going silent.

When he came back the toy was nearly complete. It looks so odd yet wonderous to look at, a rifthound mannequin. It even looked real given the size of it.

You were nowhere to be seen, but a letter on your usual spot. With the words to greet him, telling him that it's nearly done. All he needs is to apply the paint to the mannequin.

Not wanting to talk to him about the pay, but the smile on his face is well enough of a reward.

Childe couldn't thank you enough for making Teucer happy. Happiness is better shared with close friends and comrades.

"You're the best Toy Maker I've ever known… "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pantalone x Cook! Reader

"You're always welcomed here."

The Regrator has been sneaking out without his personal guards as of late. He misses the old, shabby, shack that would give him meals whenever he asked back then. Until now the money would pale in comparison to what your family owned diner has done for him. People would chastise for eating something so below his class, though. Even he couldn’t resist the urge to eat a meal made with love and nostalgia.

Before he was given some food, clothes and what could be spared for him before. And now he's tempted to buy out the shop to constantly give cash flow for your family, though it was denied by your father. Saying his sincere thanks and to visit whenever he can, casual talk sometimes is sufficient. Out of respect, he backed off, stating that his offer is still available and that all they need to do is tell him.

Pantalone often wondered if he should propose a job offer to one shop owner's children. That way, he could at least help out. Or another plan is to have your hand, the second oldest for marriage, he didn't mind the scandalous thought of other people for marrying a pauper. In fact he revels in it while showering you (and the family) with expensive gifts that feels like loose change to him. The fruits of his labor along with your family's support.

Ah, but he must be patient.. he must wait for the moment then strike… for now.

"The usual, please." He said as he sat down on the creaky chair.

"Mister Pantalone!” Your head peeked from the small window, that smile that shines brighter than the sun reflecting from the pure white snow. “Welcome, it'll be up in a few moments. I'm nearly finished! " Your voice rang out from the thin wood partition. The scent of something so warm, enticing him to stay longer than he should.

" Take your time, darling."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arlecchino x flirty! Reader

“Waltz for the moon, darling”

The Tsaritsa is a humble Archon, and annually she holds a gathering. ‘For what?’ you may ask, Arlecchino isn’t sure of the reason. Something, something of a mythos that sprouted long ago that ties in with the benevolent Frost protector.

The night was long. Columbina didn’t seem to stray away from the piano. The first Harbinger had fled to the balcony. The unhinged Doctor talking to the Regrator for more funds for the latest research. Sandrone minding her own business like the silent but ominous dark guardian at the corner of the room.

A star rained down when the odd eyed woman looked up and managed to catch the sight of you. Cheekily, you smiled at her before walking over. “Greetings Lord Harbinger Arlecchino.” Bowing to her, the smile never left your face. It somewhat disgusts her.

The Knave didn’t know what happened, it was like some kind of spell that was placed upon her. All she knew was having a casual talk then suddenly being dragged to the dance floor with you as the lead. It was humiliating that you both bumped into someone. It was a very rough start, stepping on each other’s feet. Everytime Arlecchino leaves, you bring her back to the dance floor. She didn’t think there’ll be anyone bold enough to do something like this without any ulterior motive.

Though soon enough, both of you were dancing in sync. No words were exchanged that night. Just twirls and before they knew it, Arlecchino got separated from you letting another person occupy her place.

Normally she’d scold you, but in a time and place like this. That has to wait, now even Columbina wants to dance with her.

“Maybe, a little dance here and there would be nice.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Columbina x Nomad(like)! Reader

"Juxtaposition is not quite strange, that's for sure"

The Lady had found your performance unique ever since you arrived at Snezhnaya. So resilient to the harsh cold while having such … indecent clothing that you kept on dancing with your traveling friends that played their expertise in music.

As a matter of fact, you pulled her from the side and let her dance with you among the other civilians. Praising her how well she danced to life's music.

The cheeriness isn't what made you intriguing, but the ominous music that rang in the dead of night. Your voice sang dark and fiery whispers of hollowed promises, followed by cackling laughter from your piss drunk friends.

She had come back, after you accidentally forgot one of your belongings to her. She never felt this excited for a new yet familiar face of a friend.

'Dance and die, and live forever!' the darker side of yours sparked within her. From then on, she couldn't help but watch from the sidelines watching your every move.

Like she's seeing a ritual happening before her eyes. Your gentle and loving look now replaced with passionate and fearsome sword dance, in hand is an ornamental sword, moving swift and clean could end a life of a helpless thing.

It later on became a piqued interest, most Harbingers would frown upon her odd fixation to the visiting troupe.

It didn't go unnoticed. However, your group had already left before she could ask you any questions about your kin.

Whenever she's alone, she would try to mimic your moves that night. It felt so wrong yet so good, the flair influences her battle style. Not that anyone would have known other than Arlecchino and Pierro.

She'll hum that haunting tune you sang that a few others seem to like. The gory song that contextualizes a fall of a kingdom. Though what they didn't know is that it's from another person who made the lyrics, shocking to most since she sings almost lullaby-like melodies. Hoping to one day meet you and your troupe.

"Shadows dream of endless fire// flames devour and embers swooped//"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sandrone x Servant! Robo! Reader

"To my every beck and call"

You were one of her latest models in her line of research. The pinnacle of all her work, yet has been reduced to such mundane tasks for your Master puppeteer.

Serving her drinks, fetching her clothes, bathe her (or with her), do her hair… well you get it, though it all depends on her mood that day. You have nearly every function a person needs, from herbal knowledge to basically everything under the sun.

No doubt, you are a successful innovation from the rest of Foutaine and the regular machinery.

"My lady, Harbinger Sandrone… Your tea is getting cold." Your voice reminded your mistress of her long forgotten tea.

"Leave it.. come here. I need something of you… "

If it isn't a domestic task, she'll probably ask you to hunt something for her. It's a little objective to see how long you could last out in the cold winters. Didn't last too long since you kept waking up on her workbench. Sandrone told you, you were still in the making and needed to be fixed as long there's errors with you.

Whispers from various Fatui agents can be heard surrounding your mistress, rumors of you going to be replaced by a newer model. It stunted your performance once you heard it, afterall it was inevitable given that your mistress might discard you and make a brand new one; stronger, faster, a better you.

She'd shush your worries by making you feel more welcomed, participating in her testing in various research. If she were a slightly different master then you aren't sure what would happen. Either way, you love your mistress from the very bottom of your robotic heart. Didn't even care how degrading the task is. That's how deep your devotion goes.

"Snowball, I need your help again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Capitano x reader

" On par of a warrior's blood"

Capitano may not have enough time for you, but he does appreciate you trying to do these little things for him. Like bringing him some beverages, snacks between his training sessions. Especially when you tried so hard to make it for him, he won't decline it.

Little cuddles under his coat, it delights him. Even though he does not show it, low hums would be enough to tell that he likes you having close to him.

What gets him going is you snuggling with him in bed, mumbling about how big and strong he is. A way to stroke his ego, especially with a cute little lamb like you to protect.

"What snacks do you want for tomorrow? Oranges in chocolate? Cookies? Or maybe.. me?" You tried to tease him, though not getting a reaction from him, at least not from the outside.

Within the safety of his helmet lies a very embarrassed man. "As long as you made it, I don't mind.."

That made you pout at him." But that's what you've said last time.. " pressing up against him a bit more.

" I need to know what you think.. don't worry, I can wait. " Trying to assure him.

" I hope you'll still be patient as time marches on then.. " He combed his gloves fingers in your hair, slightly tugging it.

"I will… hope you'll do the same for me." Not even the flames of Natlan could match the warmth of their hugs.

Capitano really likes to be close to you, but with the work on his shoulders and guiding the military. He has a hard time juggling the fickle schedule he has.

"I have some spare time tomorrow. Do you know how to play chess?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pierro x Massage therapist! Reader

"Welcome, how may I serve you?"

When he first heard about you, it was in the guise of a suggestion. The Regrator himself that sings your praises for your hands that could melt stress away. There are others who call you the mage with Solar gauntlet with how warm your hands are.

He was skeptical since the rich man deemed it 'necessary' for the old man like him to 'take a chill pill' for once. Ignoring their advice until Pantalone had to set up an appointment for the Jester with the help of Pulcinella to lure the poor fool into the spa.

You remembered the first time he entered the humble establishment in Snezhnaya.

Face all scrunched up and wanted to leave, yet his subordinates stopped him from going. And there's you with a few other of your co-workers.

Pierro, of course, is placed in your care. Much to Pantalone's distaste, since he is your number one customer. He's a bit picky when it comes to self-care.

The battle scarred and hardened body seemed to melt under your touch as he began to unwind himself. Seeing that satisfied smile, big hands grip on to the table and eye fluttering shut could melt your heart.

"Sir, please relax. This is a safe place."

After that encounter with the first Harbinger's relaxation. Pantalone finds you, his favorite employee booked by someone else who isn't him and you aren't allowed to share the client's details with him. As much as it irked him, he can't go get himself blacklisted.

You kinda like this new customer. Sure, he doesn't talk as much but he does have a cute sleepy face. Only you could see the vulnerable side of the Jester and live. Knowingly he comes here often to relieve stress in his words;

"Another appointment, sir?"

"Yes, though my subordinates kept insisting I should come here even without them."

You just smiled at him and processed the unearned income.

"It shall be done, sir. Thank you again for choosing us." You bowed

…

"Sir, you seemed to be tense. Please, relax and let me do the work."

"Mm… a little bit more on the right…"

"Of course, Sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dottore x Reader

" You're the best doctor I've ever had!"

You aren't sure if the one with you right now is the doctor himself but, both of you right now are together in a meeting room. His head on your lap while proofreading his latest thesis statement before going to the next one. It was one of the few times where he doesn't even want to work with the others, like the clones or Harbingers.

The younger versions would be such little gremlins and practically begged you to spend some time with them since they're so tired of everyone's BS and the Scientific investigation projects were practically endless for the little clones. They'll often drag your sorry little ass to the couch and cuddle with you.

While the older versions would just lead you to the couch with a hug from the back if you two were alone. It would be troublesome if someone were to see him in this state, especially Pantalone.

Promising you a little rest time for working so hard under the Tsaritsa's rule and 'acting' as your 'friend' just to get that same treatment as the clone who started the mess.

He never felt so placid before, he'd often request you as often as possible. Though you do notice the glaring difference between the younger and older versions of himself. But the battle that happened behind the scenes is… less than mature, the walls and ceilings of his lab were baptized in blood, it's unclear whether or not it's from the clones stabbing each other or them tossing their patients' innards at one another. (Kinda like a snowball/food fight if you think about it/ want to ignore all the blood and gore.) All for the few hours of calmness and the sound of you singing in their ear, just for them.

The Prime Dottore got pissed once the most reliable clone told him that he has to ship his ass back to Snezhnaya to quell the fight. So of course he has this rotational schedule for all of them, including himself to see what all the fuss is about. (The younger ones booed since they're in the latter part of the rotation)

Bonus: if you're lucky enough, maybe one of the clones or Dottore would probably sing something in french while you just comb his hair, humming along. If it's a clone, most likely wants to have a special memory with you alone before his decommissioning, so sweet yet so bitter. Him singing a soft tune that he made up for you while he waits for his turn. Your hands give him some care, like combing with a brush or cleaning his ears.

"C'est ça, l'Amour, Le grand Amour L'Amour qui fait chanter la vie."

"Doc, since when have you brushed your hair?" Or " Zan, Zan, don't sleep with your mask on… "

“Am I the Doctor here or you are?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scara x Poet! Reader

" Too bad no fools allowed! "

Listening to you telling stories has always been his favorite pastime whenever he's alone.

Money is usually a problem for you, though it's fine the passion you hold in your profession burns brighter than any vision holder. Still, no vision to be seen. Perhaps there is no need of a vision to embody the dedication, or the Gods deemed you unworthy to hold it. Nevertheless, you seemed a lot happier even without it.

This time you were in Liyue, telling stories of forgotten myths and legends that transpired so far away into the past.

"I don't want to die… " A weak cry left your voice, a tear escaped from your eye. Scaramouche felt a ting from his chest, when your hand outstretched for Celestia above.

"The maiden's love didn't rely on selfish reasoning, nor did she ask for something in return, doing everything in her power to protect her beloved… and what could never be her's. A denied privilege that haunts her very core! "

'What a fool', is what the tossed puppet would want to say. He had a similar experience with the saga's protagonist.

"With a cup of blood in hand, our knight in shining armor excelled in all expectations. And yet… " you spun around a bit, facing the audience, with a hand next to your lips as if to whisper to your ghostly partner that is the chivalrous protagonist.

" ' You're not my sister! They laughed, You're not my daughter! He scorned, you're not perfect! They screeched.' Indeed she wasn't. Playing pretend became the latest trend, as bit by bit she clung to the hollowed promise that somehow… someday… Within the gaping pits of dirt and sea, she will find salvation!"

That's what Scaramouche wanted to believe, a sliver of chance to happiness…

It's only a little fantasy of his, but he will find his own redemption soon even if he has to stare at the face of the abyss itself until it blinks.

" 'No cost too great.' " Finally something he, and your character agree on. The road to hell is a treacherous one, but Scaramouche had a few things over your character: his bravery in the facade of madness, is one of them.

"Psh, give this to that wretched troubadour just to shut that mouth for this week. Their style is shit, even I could do better."

Even he wouldn't want to admit the love he has for your style of legends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulcinella x Secretary! Reader (platonic)

"With all due respect, I'm just an assistant. Not a child."

Being Mayor, it gets pretty lonely sometimes. But that's why you're here, his secretary! The job description didn't actually include hanging out with him out of work. But here you are, almost acting like the mature child in his family who thinks that everything needs to be taken seriously.

"Mayor, you have an appointment later at three this afternoon."

" Hohoho, to rush things could only worsen things, Little one."

" Sir, it's not professional of me to accept this gift."

"Nonsense! You've been with me for the last, how many years? And I still have to thank you for your unyielding patience. "

Or even…

" Sir… Sir… S I R, this is no time to pick out children's toys for Lord Harbinger Tartaglia's siblings, we could do it after the meeting. Lord Harbinger Jester would be furious with us when we meet him again out of schedule."

" You worry too much, little one. With the hounds of Snezhnaya, we'll be there in a jiffy."

That's what he said last time, you both were late at the meeting.

Then there’s that one time,

“Mayor, what do you mean ‘we’ have to cancel all appointments for this afternoon? Oh no, no, no, no. Sir, I appreciate your concerns but my love life is my own business and not to be mingled with our work!”

“Oh but, Targtaglia is such a nice boy, just a little rough around the edges. This once, you won’t regret it.”

You fucking swear, that this Igor lookin ass rooster knows what buttons to press and would love to see you pull out your hair for you to keep your shit together. The only thing keeping you grounded is that he's your boss and a Harbinger, the highest socialite in Snezhnaya. The choke-hold he has, no matter how short he is compared to you.

Looking at your state right now, you're developing some strands of white hair from all the stress that comes with the job.

He hands you a cup of (preference) with a smile, "it's not so bad to unwind a bit. Drink up, you'll feel better."

You don’t want to admit as much as he did, but you do find these moments rather endearing after a certain point.

“See? Now, that wasn’t so bad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

La Signora x (?)Reader

"You only got three chances in life."

During one of her strolls, the pale lady finds herself quite the situation. You are in a bear trap, calf all bloodied and peirced.

Tear stained face looked up at Signora, not one word spoken but a weak whine..

She had freed you from your doom. what she had on her, sunken look, that heavy breathing, so pitiful.

A once malnourished person who had been running for days can see their face. She let you go, on your own to survive.

The next time she met you was at Mondstadt, tied to a tree this time. With her fanning herself using a lacy fan. Her lackies near her, unfortunately caught by them since you were nearby scavenging.

"What's a sweet little pooch like you doing here?

Your nose flared at her remark. On guard, with no weapons. Seeing no threat in her since she had released you from that trap.

"Cat caught your tongue?" The crimson witch walked near to examine you up close and personal. You were healthier than the last time.

"I see you're recovering well. That's good." Wordlessly she gestured to the agents to release you, for a little battle of dominance. You're no stranger to this dance as you circle around her, you may owe your life to this stranger. But it isn't worth it in a predicament like this.

La Signora huffs and when to use her whip to put some fear into you, only have you caught that salt soaked tassel of leather from reaching you. Mistakes were made that she swore to not make another one after you were recaptured.

This time instead of flimsy ropes. You were chained to her like a dog, always growling and snarling at her similarly to a rift hound. Yet never would harm her.

Mouth caged so you wouldn't even dare to bite her.

"What a pooch." Signora mumbled under her breath. Not once did you talk, she had assumed you were unknowledgeable by any means.

That falls in her next mistake, showing some mercy with you. She once had given you pails of water to quench your thirst without the mouth restraint. Didn't even fight back, she had presumed you were in dire need of intake. That soon followed meals… then less restraints. Until her mind swayed, you're harmless to her.

When a sudden attack happened during her stay in a certain nation. A planned assassination got put into action, it would have been successful if it weren't for you taking the hit in her stead.

The image of you writhing in pain from the electro damage stung, similar to being fried from the inside. She thought you were a fool for helping her stay alive. Nonetheless, the assassin was dealt with. You? Well be worried about that later.

"... Haha… Am I in celestia or is the moon closer than I realized?" You tried to joke the moment you woke up, head on her lap. And it was the first time you made an actual sentence with her.

"You little brat, you gave me a scare there." Only a huff was heard from you.

" Good then… "

Her final mistake… well…

" Can't believe a pooch like you manage to worm your way here… "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I'll definitely edit out heavily on Signora's part

#reader insert #fatui x reader #pierro x y/n #sandrone x reader #capitano x you #childe x y/n #columbina x reader #arlecchino x y/n #pulcinella x reader #pantalone x reader #dottore x y/n #la signora x reader #scaramouche x y/n

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honeykaes · 1 year

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—𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐢

✦ pairing: scaramouche x reader x dottore

✦ w/c: 2.6k

✦ warning: dark content, yandere content, 18+ content, minors do not interact

✦ disclaimer: gender-neutral!reader, yandere content, god/goddesses au, based on hades and persephone myth, all characters in genshin are gods, dottore claimed reader since birth, implied stalking, side-character death, isolation, gaslighting, unedited, scara is referred to as wanderer and scaramouche.

[part i]

Heart thumping out of your chest, sweat dripping on your brow, you couldn’t believe what was happening to you. Dottore was the force that had left your life so miserable, taking away all the things you enjoyed beside gardening. The bloodlust Scaramouche argued with was no better, the image of the mauled dead man ingrained in your mind.

How had you caught the eye of these two Gods? It wasn’t as if you devoted yourself to them as others did—you hardly prayed if you were being honest. You swallowed, forcing yourself from heaving bile up due to your already weakened state. You crept back towards the cracked door. As awful as it was, you needed more information—you needed the truth.

Winds were beginning to pick up around the Wanderer as his hair began moving with the gale, his eyes glaring down at the God of Death. His clenched jaw softened, shifting his face to that of smug amusement. Wanderer crossed his arms, displaying his newfound confidence.

“Stop trying to act like (Y/n) ate over 12 seeds from your hellish fruit. They ate only 5 of them,” he declared. Dottore narrowed his own scarlet eyes, licks of azure fire beginning to appear on his cyan locks signaling his frustration. You leaned into the door closer trying to understand they’re conversation better compared to the muffle voices you heard earlier.

“You’re only bound to her for 5 months out of the year, lowlife. Stop acting as if they only belong to you,” Wanderer seeth, leaning into the man. Dottore forced himself to laugh, looking down at the other God. You felt tears pricking your eyes as you tried to wipe them as a sense of dread consumed your body. Your suspicions were right. The pomegranate Dottore insisted would be the force of your freedom had the exact opposite effect.

“So fucking what. You act as if I can’t give them another,” he hummed, irritating Wanderer. Frustrated by his statement, Wanderer clicked his tongue. You grabbed the soft fabric of your ornate black robe on your stomach tightly. Would it be possible to get them out still or would they be digested already…?

“You’re forgetting something. What will make them trust you once more? You already broke it,” Wanderer responded, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his thin pink lips. Dottore’s tongue swipes over his predator-like teeth, before a cruel grin forms on his pale face.

“...What about you, little puppet? You’ll try to claim what is rightfully mine for 7 months. Hardly seems fair to me,” Dottore replied. You bite your lip tightly, a line of blood dripping down from your open wound. Puppet? How did that make sense? They clearly knew of each other much closer than any stories had assumed. All this time, just competing with one another? Your arms hug your shoulders tightly, shivering in disgust.

“It’s what I deserve! You didn’t see them in the village, alone and by themself. They had the strength to continue the torment you brought, their kindness not wavering once. Those orphans lived because they gave them their produce, they could have easily enjoyed themself. I feel for them and want to reward them after their misery” Wanderer seethed, stomping his foot. The winds around the wanderer were beginning to pick up once again.

Wanderer watched you for that long? You knew Gods and Goddess often came to the mortal realm using their powers to make them naked to the invisible eye, but you never thought Wanderer would do that towards you. Farming and winds didn’t mix well together after all, as cyclones would often uproot gardens.

“You sure it's them you truly love, or the fact they were blessed by your beloved savior, Nahida?” Dottore asked, sticking out his pierced tongue to get a reaction from his younger sibling. A wave of winds rushed past you for a second. It seemed as though it was a warning.

“Watch your mouth before I blow your form into pieces. Don’t act all high and mighty either. Why do you love them in the first place, huh? Are you just that lonely since Nahida banished you to this land with the rest of the lowlife deities?” Wanderer hissed. Dottore paused for a moment, simply looking at the infuriated God. His eyes wandered up, towards a stain-glass window.

“...I first saw them when the God of Pestilence and Commerce, Pantalone decided to infect whomever in his sights. I tagged along with him out of pure boredom, ruling the land of the dead can be often dreary, ya know,” Dottore muttered.

“He killed their parents, I collected their souls. They were so fucking loud that night since they couldn’t stop crying. Humans are such sensitive creatures…” Dottore trailed off. A single tear drifted down your face. At least there was some solace to know your captor didn’t kill your parents, as opposed to his deranged associate. The plague did ravish your village, but you didn’t have much memory of it being so young.

“Since Pantalone was active, and I had to collect the souls, I saw them often. ...They talked to the plants around her as if they were people. Even if it was rather odd, my life didn’t feel as lonely with them. I didn’t get everything I wanted from that poor excuse for a goddess like you did, after all. Signora even insisted they could be the rule the underworld with me. How romantic is that?” Dottore exclaimed.

Wanderer rolled his eyes, and turned his head, only to catch your intrusive gaze. Your eyes widened, turned your body away from the crack in your door. Cursing under your breath, you tried to calm your fast-paced heart. Was he going to try and collect you?

“Nahida thought the same. They could rule my realm with me,” Wanderer stated, still looking to where you were. Confused by his counterpart’s lack of attention, Dottore glanced towards the direction Wanderer was looking at, noticing the door to your room was cracked open. An amused smirk appeared on Dottore’s face.

“Are theyfinally awake—” before Dottore could move to retrieve you, his body was blown away quickly colliding with the brick wall. Resentful eyes looked at Wanderer as Dottore’s body fizzed into a cloud of black smoke. Before you could properly get away from the door, the black smoke appeared in front of you, clouding your vision. All of your senses were blocked, until suddenly, you were in front of a displeased Wanderer, with large arms wrapped around your waist from behind. The smell of ash ever-present behind you. Dottore nuzzled his head into your hair, earning a growl from Wanderer.

“Aw, look at the spoiled brat, lovely—“ Dottore cooed before his focus drifted to a floating white feather. Dottore snarled, burning the feather with one touch. Wanderer looked up to see a man with a large set of wings flying above the three of you. You stared in awe gazing at his large wings.

“If it isn’t Barbatos” the man greeted, before descending down. The winged man had dark hair with glowing turquoise ends tied up in two braids. His teal eyes gazed down at you filled with amusement.

“Sorry, did I interrupt a lovers’ quarrel?” he teased. As you opened your mouth in an attempt to escape, Wanderer placed a cold man on your lips, cautiously warning you from doing that.

“What is it,” Dottore asked in a monotone voice. You could feel the malice radiating from Dottore. The amusement and teasing nature in his voice was gone. He didn’t exactly like this...creature, did he? The winged-man just laughed at Dottore’s hostility. Wanderer’s hand left your face as he crossed his arms instead.

“We’re being summoned, right, Barbatos?” Wanderer muttered. The winged-man nodded his hand, holding up a scroll.

“I mean, this was going to happen eventually boys. The 7 Main Gods, including myself, have to decide if a mortal can become the Goddess of Spring as opposed to just being one of your nymphs,” Barbatos shrugged.

You? A Goddess? Nothing about you was divine. What were these two thinking?

Dottore suddenly erupted in laughter, earning the attention of everybody. His grip on you subconsciously tightened, peering at Wanderer in amusement.

“Can’t believe we had the same thing in mind...”

If someone ever told you that your eyes would be graced by the beauty of Mount Celestia, you would have called them a liar. Your eyes soaked up the atmosphere of this divine place. In the sky, on a cloud, was a whole city filled with Gods, Goddesses, Nymphs and other spiritual creatures.

As you were being escorted by Dottore, Wanderer, and Barbatos, other deities seemed to be looking at you with confusion. Your ears picked up on their whispering, questioning how you were able to ascend to such a holy, unachievable place. While walking to whatever court that would be deciding your fate, a white hair caught your eye. The small girl had slightly-tanned skin, her green-clover eyes wide and full of worry looking at you.

“Scaramouche—” she called out, reaching out his hand, but another man with gray hair put his large arm out, preventing her from getting closer.

“Nahida, it isn’t worth it. You know how he gets. We’ll try to knock some sense out of him after the meeting…” You turned your head forward, pondering on the deities’ conversation. They clearly knew Wanderer— one even wanted to stop him. Would they ever aid you in your escape or remain loyal to their friend?

As much as you wanted to think about escaping, you had to face the 7 ranked Gods of Mount Celestia. Each of them had a high ranking position due to their popularity in your realm. They were mainly praised in bigger villages and towns, but their power was known throughout Japan.

Soon enough, you entered the hall. The building was similar to that of a white marble colosseum. You stood in the middle, along with Dottore and Wanderer. Above you, in scattered seats, were the 12 ranked Gods. With a wink, Barbatos flew up to take his position.

“I, Barbatos, Messenger of the Gods and God of Winds, Festivals and Micheviety call a meeting to see if (Y/N) is deserving of receiving Godhood with the power of spring” Barbatos called out. With his announcement, each of the Gods and Goddess rolled off their names, gazing down at your trembling form.

“There hasn’t exactly been a mortal turned goddess before,” the Goddess of Strength and War, Murtata said, playing with her hair. Her ruby eyes looked down at you in a bored manner. You knew Murata was usually celebrated by warriors.

“I’ve made my decision, she isn’t worthy” Goddess of Justice and Tsunamis, Focolars muttered out, voicing booming loudly in the room. Her cyan eyes were filled with fire and annoyance. She clearly didn’t want to be here, and probably didn’t understand why the Gods sons were infatuated with you—you didn’t exactly understand either. You didn’t know much about Focolars in folklore, all you knew is she had a bad temper.

“Please everyone, let’s calm down. We have two deities speaking in favor of her receiving Goddess-ship,” Morax, the God of Gods, and Contracts announced. You resisted the urge to bow your head. Morax was known to be a merciful ruler with a dark past he was trying to grow from. Out of every God, he probably had your respect the most.

“Firstly, Nahida. Please consider her testimony,” Morax said. In front of you, a plant began to sprout up. It rapidly grew larger, until the white-hair girl before emerged from the plant. She glanced back, giving Wanderer a smile and you, a pitiful glace before her focus went towards the ranked Gods.

“I’ve known (Y/n) for a good portion of their life. They were always kind, helping the village I overlook, continue growing wondrous crops. Instead of indulging in riches or food, they chose to share the gift of produce with young abandoned mortals,” Nahida called out.

“I, therefore, bless her, proud of what she accomplished. My...friend, Scaramouche fancies them, captivated by her kindness and sense of charity, melted his heart. He hopes they can continue showing him new perspectives so that he may continue being a great God,” Nahida finished. Although her back was turned towards you, you could see the sense of dread of Nahida’s face. She must know your true predicament, she was the Goddess of Academics after all. Nahida bowed before walking backward towards Wanderer, his face appearing as you thought it would floating back up and sitting down at her respected seat.

“Thank you, Nahida. Now, for the other one…Tsarista, Goddess of Love” Morax sighed. A cloud puffed towards revealing a young woman. Her white blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, icy eyes cold and glaring at the 7 Main Gods.

“It’s been forever since you’ve summoned me. Since my trial that is,” she scoffed. The Goddess of Love was a difficult deity. She was known for making trouble. It didn’t surprise you to hear she was banished from Mount Celestia as well.

“Dottore has cared for this mortal for so long. It’s honestly unlike him. He’d use any excuse to try and go see them. He was even creepy enough to talk back with them when they was talking to plants,” Tsarista laughed. Dottore scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the Goddess.

“So you did not use your powers on him?” Ei asked. So this was Wanderer’s mother. The Tsarista glared at her.

“That’s right. Dottore never acted so...sweet, before. Come now, he deserves a partner. Do you know how many mortals die a day? Too many to do alone. This might be what motivate him more,” she finished. Morax sighed, placing his hand out to signal his desire for her to be silent. She kept her mouth close, but a small smirk was on her face as she backed away towards Dottore.

“...I’ve heard enough. From my understanding, the two of you are fighting over who shall rule with them. Wanderer walked forward, looking up towards the ranked Gods.

“Yes. After the villagers destroyed part of Nahida’s blessed forest, hurting her in the process, I decided to betroth them so she would be free from their binds. I gave them until the end of the month so that they may enjoy whatever experiences they could as a mortal,” Wanderer responded. Dottore rolled his eyes, stepping forward next to Wanderer.

“They ate death’s fruit, consuming 5 seeds in the process. They are bound to me and Scaramouche can’t change that. They ate this before he collected her at the end of the month,” Dottore called out. Wanderer narrowed his eyes at Dottore but didn’t erupt into anger as he did previously. Morax paused, bright amber eyes looking at your small form before he clicked his tongue.

“How about this? They shall become the God of Spring, doing their duties of sprouting plants and assisting Nahida with the Wanderer. They shall do this as the Wanderer’s mistress from March to September. Once they fulfill their duties assisting the Wanderer, they shall be with Dottore from October to February to help him with whatever he pleases,” Morax called out.

You tried opening your dry mouth, but you couldn’t. What exactly could you say? They terrify you, but if you didn’t agree, you’d most likely be killed on the spot.

You had to play along for now.

“Fine...I agree to it,” Dottore muttered. Wanderer sighed, not looking very pleased with the outcome.

“Very well…” he whispered. Morax clapped his hands, gaining the attention of the rest of the deities.

“Do I hear any descent for this?” Morax hummed. No one spoke up, making the God grunt in response.

“Perfect. I believe a congratulations is in order,” Morax murmured. You lowered your head and took a deep breath before looking back at them with a fake smile. You could feel Wanderer and Dottore’s intense gaze piercing your body.

“...Thank you…”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere dottore #dottore x reader

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realm-of-rosie · 1 year

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💭 one sided regrets !!

[ angst, no comfort, red flag characters + emotionally constipated characters, toxic relation / situation-ships, break-ups no make-ups, arguing ]

i. genshin impact [ dottore, alhaitham, scaramouche, and the ways they wished it wasn't like this. ]

ii. angst with no comfort

iii. blog rules | masterlist

iv. i do not stan this level of toxic in real life relationships 😭 *crushes on red flags and red flags only irl*

[ dottore ]

"come on pet," his voice sends a shiver down your spine and not in a good way, "don't you want to make me happy?"

you twist your head to face the man that had his head on your shoulder, his hands dangling a vial of a luminescent liquid in front of your face, and with tears in your eyes, you shake your head, "not like this dottore,"

the Doctor frowns, curling his fingers around the vial and turning his back to you, "what a shame, and here i thought you would do anything for me because you loved me, i suppose i was wrong,"

"i do love you!" you insist.

"and yet you won't do this small thing for me, a little favor for your friend, is that not normal?"

"of course it's normal-"

"and you won't do it? is it not ok for me to ask you-"

"of course it's ok!" you scoff, stomping closer to him, "and it was fine the first few times ok? because you're my friend! but now..." you sigh, breaking eye contact, "this -" you gesture between the both of you "- isn't healthy,"

"and why is that?" he pulls off his mask to reveal his face, eyebrow raised, "why isn't this healthy?"

"you know how i feel about you," your lip quivers, "you know that i admire you in ways that exceed friendship, that i love you, and i know that you don't love me and yet i would do anything if it means i get to be with you, but..."

"but what?" dottore grips your chin, forcing you to look at him, his lips an inch away from yours, "whatever is the matter pet? why do you think i don't love you?"

"don't do that,"

"do what?"

"make me feel guilty,"

"i'm not doing anything,"

you exhale sharply, pulling your face from his grasp, "no," you shake your head, backing away from him, "this isn't ok, ok? if we're truly friends, then this isn't a friendship i want. i don't want a friendship - or relationship of any kind - that i have to second-guess where i stand in the relationship, i don't deserve to walk around eggshells when i'm with you because i don't know if you'll treat me like i'm a fragile little thing or if you'll pretend i'm not there!"

"darling, you're being irrational-"

"stop it," you hiss as you wipe the tears of frustration trickling down your face, "stop this game you're playing, because i don't want to play it anymore,"

dottore only watches as you rush out of the cold darkened room he calls his laboratory, a smirk playing on his lips as he slipped on his mask because he knew you'd come crawling back to him. a small part of his heart - or whatever was left of it, if anything - tugged at him, saying what if you didn't come back anymore, and he frowns.

of course you'd come back, you just had to.

[ alhaitham ]

"oh, so now you want to listen to what i have to say? when i'm about to walk out of the door and out of your life?"

"you never talk to me otherwise!"

"excuse me?" you seethe, turning around to harshly jab your finger in his chest, "you never listen,"

"i do listen-"

"liar," you spit angrily, voice shaky, body trembling from the anger building and building up inside you, eyes welling up with tears. at that moment, you didn't care if you looked pathetic, in your mind, how you looked now was incomparable how you looked when you would chase after him, silently begging for even just an ounce of his attention only to be disappointed beyond belief when he once again said no. no amount of wishing pleading to him or to the archons would make him as much as glance at you.

alhaitham, on the other hand, stands still, shocked as he watches you release every bit of frustration collected over the months of your relationship, his hands twitched to find purchase on your shoulder to at least attempt to comfort you but you recoiled from his touch. but he is a stubborn man, and he still tried to reach for you despite how you tried to add distance between you both. however he did stop when he heard you speak again.

"i hate you," you sniffle, "i hate how you make me feel,"

as he soaked in the words, feeling them sink deep into his bones, wounding tightly around his heart, he didn't stop you from walking out of the door.

[ scaramouche ]

"loving you," you inhale sharply, shaking your head, "hurts,"

scaramouche stares at you blankly.

"loving you wasn't hard because you know what? it wasn't hard to find something to love about you because i love everything about you, and i sure as hell don't regret loving you but it hurts so fucking much,"

"what are you blabbing on about now?" he drawls, perfectly masking how he truly felt inside.

to you, how he never knew that you truly, genuinely loved him remained a mystery to you, but if the man did know, well, he was doing a perfectly wonderful job of acting as though he didn't care at all.

truth be told, he did know, he just didn't believe it.

you shook your head with a smile of disbelief, your lips pursed together, "you wouldn't believe me if i told you,"

"well, you brought it up, might as well spit it out," he turns back to face the city of inazuma as the homes scattered across ritou light up under the setting sun.

it's quiet after that, save for the crickets chirping somewhere in the shrubbery surrounding you both.

"are you going to say something or not?" the irritation evident in scaramouche's voice.

"i..." you stare longingly at his back and your mind is overloaded with all the possibilities that could come following your confession, "i love you, scaramouche,"

again, the crickets fill the air between you both.

"no, you don't," he says quietly, uncharacteristic for him.

"see," you huff, a smidge of frustration escaping in the tone you had, "i told you you wouldn't believe me,"

"instead of chastising me, blame yourself for bringing it up in the first place," scaramouche twirls around to face you, glaring harshly and you stumble backwards, "so what if you love me? do you really think i'm capable of loving? of loving...you?"

something in his eyes change as he says you, and the way he says it sounds almost painful. was it pain? disgust? despair? there was truely no way to find out.

"don't follow me," he says quietly, so quietly that you almost missed it, and there was nothing else you could do but whisper a goodbye into the wind, hoping that the breeze would carry it safely to him.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #dottore x reader #scaramouche x reader #balladeer x reader #al haitam x reader #alhaitham x reader

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divineningyou · 10 months

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@rcgrator

Kabukimono has finally reached Zapolyarny Palace, the stomping grounds of the Tsaritsa and her harbingers--and his former dwellings when he used to live amongst their ranks.

Waves of nostalgia washed over him as he stepped through the palace gates, donning his old red and black outfit. There were whispers from the lower-ranked soldiers, chatty mouths as always. It made him nervous. He tried to shake it off, but as he reached closer and closer to the palace's door, he often rubbed his arm and lowered his head. Somehow, these soldiers remember him. No surprise.

He walks until he finds the person he was looking for, Pantalone. Feelings deeper inside him are welling with disgust. Dottore thought to replace him, with Pantalone? Out of all the harbingers?

'Let it go. I have no need for those feelings now.' he tells himself. He has to get his attention.

"Hello there! I hear you and Dottore have been up to something secret."

A cute smile and some polite words should suffice. Is that... is that too out of character? Was Scaramouche ever this nice? Are his fractured memories going to be his fourth betrayal? Oh dear...

#❀; ooc #rcgrator

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genderfluid-insomniac · 3 years

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Trouble with remedies/// scaramouche x aphrodesiac!reader

hello my ravishing readers this may be written by me but the idea is thanks to @scaramunch! Seriously check her out, she has awesome art of Scaramouche and tons of other really funny self insert headcanons too!

Thank you for shopping at the Deep Depths Library!

༻Scaramouche༺

You had been sick for a couple days and it was lightening up but you didn’t want to take any chances, asking one of Scaramouche’s subordinates to fetch some medicine for the dull ache. Downing the water near your bed for your scratched throat, whining at the sun harshly shining in your eyes and shifting with the blanket on top of you causing you to sweat.

A few minutes later, the agent knocked on the door and you called them in, quickly leaving after placing the vial on the table next to you and dismissing themselves. You reached over and read the note alongside it, mumbling the contents. “This should help with the fever, take sparingly and report any side effects back to me…. Signed Il Dottore.”

You felt worse and figured what could go wrong, knowing that uttering that sentence was a recipe for disaster but not caring. Opening the bottle and sniffing its contents before drinking it, the warm sweetish liquid running down your throat. At first, nothing really happened as you expected and you settled back in bed for a nap, your body getting slowly warmer and warmer.

Eventually ending up laying on top of the covers cause of the heat, wiping some sweat from your forehead, and grabbing some more water from the bedside table despite it not helping. The vial caught your eyes and you made some guesswork that it was because of whatever he gave you that caused this reaction.

Your lower body felt like it was coiling in on itself and frustrated, reaching down in between your thighs and flinching at the feeling you got when you touched your clothed cunt. Some choice words were coming to mind as you realized what the doctor had given you and why he said to tell him any reactions, bastard had drugged you with some sort of aphrodisiac.

It was ultimately your fault for drinking it without thinking but in retrospect, you didn’t think someone would be stupid enough to drug a harbinger’s partner, much less, Scaramouche’s partner but honestly, their fault now. Trying your best to get up and call out for a nearby agent to get Scara as quick as possible, stating that you were mildly okay.

A minute or two later, the door slammed open to reveal his pretty annoyed expression and rolled his eyes, harshly but gently guiding you back into bed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing up?! Are you stupid?” You tried to laugh and clung onto him, taking a deep breath before steadying yourself.

“I did something stupid but he did something stupider, please help me-” You spat out and pushed the card into his chest, hearing the paper crinkle as he opened in and then crunch as he was now on the same page. “That bastard-” Immediately stomping out of the room and no doubt going to find Dottore, leading to at the very least a screaming match.

Latching onto his sleeve and calling out to your lover. “Scara- help. Please…” Whispering the last word in hopes he heard it and leaning against the wall for support. "You want help? then beg." Kneels down beside you and trails his fingers ever so lightly over your body.

"You look so helpless all trembling but I do have work to do so I'll leave you to yourself-" The veil attached to his hat swaying from the sudden movement out of the room, he slowed just a tad giving the chance to call him back and with your mind foggy you knew you needed him. Calling out and begging, you spoke the loudest you could and small moans interrupted you as the heat picked up, internally sighing when he turned around and began to undress.

You tiredly slipped off the robe you were wearing since you hadn’t gone anywhere since you woke up and fell back against the bed. "Good little slut. I'm going to ruin your body."

#genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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emberluc · 3 years

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all mine?

contains: NSFW CONTENT, possessive + sub!scara, top male!reader, slight exhibitionism, angry ish sex (help idk), rdr is a harbinger

requested by @lone-wolf-nergiganos !

scaramouche’s the jealous type.

even if you’re just talking to a new fatui recruit, he’d gather all info on the said person and send them to their death.

everything happened when the tsaritsa summoned everyone for an important meeting.

unknowingly, you had spaced off while staring at a fatui cicin mage. a harbinger’s staring straight at her, it’s normal that she’d get flustered.

unfortunately (for both you and the mage), scaramouche set his eyes on the mage, glancing over at you occasionally. his fingers tapped the table impatiently, waiting for you to break eye contact with her. but you didn’t. your head was practically in another dimension now, eyes glazed over.

scoffing, he lifted his foot up to rest on your leg. this snapped you out of it, removing your chin from your hand and looking at him.

giving him a look that basically screamed, ‘what the hell are you doing?’, you pushed his leg off and rested your head in your arms.

he rolled his eyes before moving closer to you, hand resting on your thigh. unbeknownst to his motive, you ignored the way his hand moved up slowly.

you shot up from the table as soon as you felt his hand palm your growing erection, capturing the attention of everyone in the meeting room.

“is something wrong, (name)?” the first fatui harbinger narrowed his eyes at you, clearly upset that you had interrupted the tsaritsa.

“no. i’m sorry, i just… couldn’t breathe for— hah—a second.” a whimper interrupted your sentence as scaramouche— or should i say kunikuzushi— freed your cock from its restraints in the blink of an eye, stroking the tip as it spilled with precum.

the tsaritsa’s voice resonated throughout the room gently, “if you need to get some air, go ahead and don’t waste any time.”

immediately fixing your clothes, you pushed scaramouche’s hand off and rushed out of the room.

childe could only whistle and put his arms behind his head as he noticed the tent in your pants.

his reaction amplified by 100 when scaramouche followed shortly, immediately whispering the situation to dottore.

you were stomping your way over to an abandoned room at the fatui headquarters, subtly glancing at scaramouche and waiting for him to catch up.

when he was near the room, you pulled him in and shut the door immediately, locking it behind your back.

once you’d gotten close enough, he chuckled softly, “now, now. i’m sure you’ve learned your lesson, hm?”

scoffing, you closed the distance between you two more, pushing a leg in between his own. “my lesson? darling, you humiliated me in front of everyone. for what? for attention? is that what you want?”

putting his arms around your neck, he kissed you with desire— a lustful desire—as he slowly applied more pressure onto your leg.

he breathed erratically against your lips, and you used this opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth.

at this point, whimpers and moans were traveling from his mouth to yours, his hands clasping the back of your clothes harshly.

seemingly impatient, his hands fiddled with your pants whilst keeping his mouth connected to yours. scoffing against his lips, you grabbed his wrist harshly before turning him around.

his hands were flat against the wall, ass facing you as his back arched unconsciously.

“you’re getting a little too excited, aren’t you?” pulling his shorts down, you marveled at the sight of him bare. getting ready to loosen him up, you could only widen your eyes. unexpectedly, he was already loosened up.

“seems like someone had fun on his own.” stuffing two fingers in without warning, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as his cock twitched in pleasure.

“ah! not there, hah,” his words came out breathless, moans spilling out of his mouth endlessly as you thrusted 2 fingers in him.

you tilted your fingers’ thrusts differently, observing scaramouche’s reaction every time. you smirked in satisfaction when he started tearing up, signaling that you’d found his prostate.

“more, m-more…” his tongue lolled out from immense pleasure, nails digging into the wall as you continued hitting his sweet spot.

in a split second, white painted the walls in front of him, his hole clenching around your fingers.

unzipping your pants once again, the balladeer’s eyes could only widen. “what? wait, wait, i just came—!”

forcing your cock all in one push, you shut your eyes. he clenched around you so tightly, the hot walls surrounding your dick was pushing you off edge.

the room echoed with your grunts and scaramouche’s moans, and slowly the sound of skin slapping resonated.

already feeling his orgasm coming, he tried to match your pace by pushing himself back on your cock.

“f-fuck,” you pounded into him, watching his cock leak with his semen, “you’re too tight.”

his words were incoherent, tears starting to fall from his eyes. his legs were shaking uncontrollably, making you hold onto his hips for support. his breath hitched, choking a moan out as cum spurted from his swollen cock.

the clenching got worse, sending you over edge. the grip on his hips were tight, you were sure to see bruises on him after this. pushing in hardly one last time, you shot your cum up his abused hole.

after attempting to catch your breath, you decided it was time to clean up already.

sighing, “this is what you get for getting so jealous,” you cleaned him up and helped him dress up.

the smell didn’t go away, so you just ignored it for now.

he was quiet the whole time, gulping every time he had to move excessively. he tried his best not to limp, but unfortunately, he’s failing pretty badly.

“scara, you don’t have to pretend.”

“i can’t let myself get humiliated by that dumb ginger and child experimenter, so shush.”

laughing, you guided him and helped him walk out by putting his arm around your neck and putting your hand on the small of his back.

as soon as you got out of the abandoned room, you saw the very three you two despised.

signora, childe, and dottore, standing near the room as they conversed.

childe walked away from the group and walked past you. but before he did, he whispered something.

“next time, you should be more quiet, or else i’ll have to interfere.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfiction #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #kunikuzushi #childe #tartaglia #childe smut #emberluc #fatui harbingers #fatui

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sondepoch · 3 years

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Breaking (4/5)

Breaking the Collar

Nine months in the human trafficking circuit has destroyed every sense of normality you ever knew. For you, it's commonplace to be ordered on your knees for your owner, his clients, anyone else Childe deems necessary—and you've reached a point where you accept it this misery, just going along with the motions of life because there's nothing else to do.

Diluc and Kaeya change that.

They enter your life on a regular workday afternoon, stepping inside Childe's massive office under the pretense of sorting out a business deal, but a single hastily written message makes it clear that they're not here to hurt you: they're here to help you.

The only issue is that you have no idea how to escape Childe.

MASTERLIST

Childe is broken.

That’s the only way to explain it, really.

Something in him seemed to change after his meeting with Diluc and Kaeya. The lazy smiles, playful grins, and rugged charms that Childe used to project as naturally as light off the sun have evaporated into thin air, leaving nothing but a shell of a man you once thought to be so powerful.

“Ajax,” you whisper, calling his name to wake him up. All he really needs to do is open his eyes. You know that he’s already awake, long used to how rhythmic the rise and fall of his chest is from months of sleeping by his side, but the redhead ignores you, pressing his head deeper into the crook of your neck.

“Ajax,” you repeat, frustration beginning to drip into your tone. “Ajax, you have to wake up.”

Except that he doesn’t actually have to.

The man received an onslaught of calls the day after his meeting with Diluc and Kaeya, all of which he answered with varying degrees of frustration, but ever since then, his phone has been radio silent. Where Childe used to be out of bed every day by eleven and in his office by twelve to attend to his meetings, he’s now done nothing but stay in bed all day—and the worst part is that no one seems to care, his phone completely silent save for the daily calls he’s been avoiding from Scaramouche.

Where a few days ago, you were annoyed with the fact that he forced you to do nothing with him for hours on end, not even fucking you at night the way he always used to, now, you’ve begun to grow concerned.

“Ajax, get up.”

You try to pull his head off your shoulder in hopes that you can force him to at least look you in the eye, but the way he instantly stiffens and burrows deeper into your shoulder is proof enough that he’s not going anywhere.

You sigh.

This marks the third day where he’s refused to even brush his teeth in the morning, the fourth where he’s refused to speak. If your life were anything normal, you’d have forced him up long ago—but you’re hardly in a position to pretend you have any authority over him. It’s clear that he knows that, too.

“Ajax, I really need you to get up...”

—which is a true statement, surprisingly.

The plan you’d developed to initiate your escape, perfected over the car ride back from Childe’s meeting with Diluc and Kaeya, was simple: snag a knife from the kitchen in Childe’s apartment, sneak into his office, use said knife to tear open the briefcase you know must have your documents inside of it, and then start running to the hotel Diluc and Kaeya said they’d be in.

You spent hours perfecting this: figuring out where Childe would be most likely to store the kitchen knives, what time of day will be best for sneaking out, and even what clothing you’ll wear when running away, since you can’t exactly run through the streets of Snezhnaya in your usual birthday suit, and for once, it seemed like the stars had actually aligned for you.

Unfortunately, when you developed your plan, you hadn’t accounted for Childe’s sudden change in behavior.

“Ajax, please…”

But the man barely even shifts in response.

Hours later, after you’ve long given up on waking him and have instead decided to join him in his slumber, you both wake up together to a voice much louder than either of yours.

“What the fuck,” Childe groans, throat hoarse from not speaking for days on end, “is that sound.”

In your opinion, it’s pretty clear what that sound is: Scaramouche’s aggressively loud shouts of “Open the fuck up!” and “Stop dodging my calls!” and “Get out of bed, asshat!” accompanied by a nonstop banging that makes you grateful no one else lives on this floor doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Instead, all you say is a quiet ”I think that’s Scaramouche.”

Childe withdraws his head from your neck with a mocking glare as the intensity of Scaramouche’s banging increases.

“I’m coming in, dickweed!” the man shouts from many rooms over, and that’s the only warning you and Childe get before you hear what has to be the sound of a door being kicked in.

“Did he just…”

Childe stares at you in shock.

A small smile flits onto your face, grateful that someone has finally come to snap Childe back to his senses.

Scaramouche doesn’t bother quieting his footsteps as he stomps towards the master bedroom. He throws the door open with such force that you almost fear it'll rebound straight back into his face, but Scaramouche is across the room with his hands around Childe’s neck so fast that you’ve barely blinked before your owner’s head is being bashed against the bedframe.

“What the fuck,” Scaramouche snarls. “Made you think it was a good idea to tell anyone that you were the one who lost Lumine.”

“I didn’t—”

Your owner’s voice is cut off when Scaramouche grips Childe’s neck and wordlessly threatens to hurt him again.

“Do you know how many problems this will cause? No one wants to work with you anymore, Tartaglia.”

“I know, and—”

Scaramouche pushes Childe’s head back into the bed frame, albeit with a little less force this time.

“No one wants to work with me anymore for having worked with you. Same for Signora and Dottore.”

“There’s nothing I can—”

“And all your big clients somehow got wind of it, too. They’re trying to switch over, and they’re all going to traffickers who aren’t associated with the Fatui because you—”

“Do you think I fucking wanted people to find out?”

It’s the first proper sentence you’ve heard from Childe since he left that meeting room with Diluc and Kaeya.

“Do you think I fucking want the literal shittiest people in the world thinking that they can look down on me?” Childe shoves Scaramouche off him, blue eyes narrowing into a glare. “I’ve already lost everything, asshole, so I don’t need you here if all you’re going to do is remind me of that.”

Scaramouche’s face settles into a frown, though you do see a hint of apology in his eyes. The pain in Childe’s voice didn’t go lost on anyone in this room.

“You smell like shit,” Scaramouche says abruptly, looking away. “Take a shower. We’ll figure out how to fix this after that.”

Childe doesn’t say anything at that, merely stepping out of bed in his sweatpants and walking to the bathroom.

“Go with him,” Scaramouche tells you. “You smell even worse.”

You’re partially insulted, partially grateful when Scaramouche says that. Insulted because, well, it can hardly be considered your fault that your owner clung to you in his bed for days on end without letting you shower. Grateful because after watching Childe do nothing for so long, you’re not sure he’ll even be able to take a proper shower on his own.

“Ajax?” you whisper softly, following him into the bathroom. “Ajax, should I—”

“Be quiet,” he whispers. Childe steps inside the shower, eyes downcast. “Please,” he adds in a softer voice.

The man doesn’t start the shower until you’ve stepped in beside him, and you’re jarred when you realize how familiar this position is. It reminds you of how, months ago, when Childe first declared you his favorite and began inviting you to spend the night with him in his apartment, he brought you with him to the shower because he couldn’t trust you to be alone for so long. It was probably his first step in his attempts to win you over, since even back then, he was always so touchy with you, always asking what your preferred shampoo scents were and insisting that you let him wash your hair.

Back then, you were the sullen one, timid to speak and hesitant to look your owner in the eye. When he washed your hair for you, it was all you could do to shut your eyes and wait for his touch to go away, but now...

“Let me,” you tell him when he reaches for a bottle of shampoo.

It’s the first time you’ve ever initiated anything like this. You hold your breath, wondering if Childe will refuse you.

Wordlessly, the man bows his head to you.

You don’t entirely know what compels you to massage shampoo into his hair with such tenderness. A part of you says that it’s because you feel guilty, since it’s obvious by now that your slip-up to Kaeya that Lumine and Childe were connected is what’s resulted in his current plight, but another part of you does it simply because it feels natural. Standing next to him, his body blocking out most of the water as you let the soapy suds rinse from his hair, feels homey. Peaceful. Pleasant, almost as if the relationship between you isn’t owner and slave, as if the two of you are actually equals and you’re simply caring for him out of the goodness of your heart.

Childe seems to sense it, too, because right after you’ve washed conditioner from his hair and have finally begun using a loofah to clean his body, he stops your arms. He holds them loosely, just enough strength in his fingertips so that you know he wants you to stop but still sufficiently little that you’d be able to keep moving if you want to, and the two of you stand there like that for much too long, naked and vulnerable, staring into each other’s eyes as warm water beats down at you.

“I…”

It’s the first time Childe is actually speaking to you in such a long time, and his eyes soften the way they always do when he looks at you and makes you feel like you’re the only thing to exist in this world.

“I think I—”

“Hurry up in there!” The sound of Scaramouche kicking the door ruins the moment, and Childe abruptly drops your wrists from his hold. He steps back quickly, almost as if realizing how close his lips had moved towards yours, and a familiar pink stains his cheeks as he glances away from you and hurriedly scrubs the rest of his body clean.

“Sorry,” he blurts, so quick and uncomfortable that it almost reminds you of how he normally is. You’d believe it, too, if not for the slight twinge of distance in his eyes that tells you he’s still thinking about Lumine or whatever it is that has him so out of it. “Uh, thanks. I’m, uh, gonna go. Gotta talk to him, y’know? You can, uh, finish up in here.”

You almost want to laugh at how awkward Childe is as he steps out of the shower and towels off to brush his teeth, blue eyes flickering to your form only to glance away in embarrassment when he realizes that he’s being watched.

“I’ll put new clothes on the bed for you, so…”

Childe nods stiffly at you and closes the door, and it’s all you can do to blink after him.

Ten minutes later, once you’re fully clean for the first time in much too long and you’ve worn the clothes lain out for you on the bed, you make your exit from the master bedroom and follow the sound of voices into the living room.

“Listen, I—”

“Wait.” Childe puts up a hand, gesturing for you to come over. Wordless, you do, though it surprises you when your owner lets you sit at his side instead of on his lap. “Alright, continue.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes the slightest before going on:

“All I was saying was that your career might be salvageable if you relocate. Let’s say you drop the name Tartaglia and instead fill the role of Capitano. You’ll have to move to Sumeru, but you might be able to continue your work there. Everyone now knows that Tartaglia was responsible for losing Lumine, but as long as you don’t tell people in Sumeru that you were Tartaglia, no one should question you there.”

“I hate everything about that plan,” Childe says, crossing his arms. “I don’t even know what language they speak there. I’ll be the foreigner. Everyone will think that I came to Sumeru as a last resort because I couldn't sell my merch anywhere else. Do you know how much I made fun of those two Mondstadt pricks for trying to do business here? They didn’t even have accents either, so imagine what people will say when I—”

“You don’t exactly have the luxury of caring about what people will say behind your back.” Scaramouche glances away, sensing that it’s a low blow. “I mean, listen. No one wants to work with you anymore, and this is the only way ‘you’ can become someone else.”

But Childe remains silent.

“You can keep all your merchandise,” Scaramouche continues. “In fact, the people in Sumeru will probably like that, since it means that the girls won’t know the language and they won’t be able to escape or ask for help. Hell, you can even bring her—”

“Is that even a question?” Childe asks defensively, a hand wrapping protectively around your knee. “Listen, Scaramouche, I appreciate you trying to help me, but Sumeru isn’t—”

“Isn’t what? Isn’t ideal? You letting it slip that you’re the imbecile who lost Lumine wasn’t ideal, but look where it—”

“I didn’t say shit!” Childe hisses in response. “Do you seriously think I’m that dumb? That I’d let those two Mondstadt pricks, of all people, know something that could destroy my career? That has now destroyed my career?”

“If not you, then who, Tartaglia? The only people who know are a part of the Fatui, and it’s not like—”

Scaramouche gestures to you wildly, evidently about to say that it’s not like you could have known, except that he now remembers that he did let mention Lumine in front of you to Childe once, and you can see the moment where he connects the dots.

“You fucking bitch,” Scaramouche whispers, eyes wide with fury and shock.

“No,” Childe says, standing up abruptly. “She didn’t say it intentionally. She still doesn’t know who Lumine is.”

“But she told someone, Tartaglia. You’re literally going to be kicked out of Snezhnaya because of her, and you still want to protect her?”

Childe’s mouth forms a thin line.

Scaramouche laughs mirthlessly.

“Fucking hell. Do you think this is a joke? Your life isn’t the only one she sabotaged, Tartaglia. Everyone in the Fatui is suffering, and if you keep letting yourself get seduced by your fucking toys, you should just quit being a human trafficker before one of us shoots you.”

Tartaglia says nothing.

“You’re a disappointment. At this point, you’ve caused more trouble for us than you have good. Everything you do seems to be another international incident, and I’m fucking sick of it.”

More silence.

“It’s people like you that make me terrified to retire. The more I talk to you, the more I think that you would have been better off as a slave rather than the owner. I never should have let you move up. You were built for taking dick, not for trying to control it.”

Your eyes widen as Childe remains silent.

“And you know who takes the blame every time you fuck up? Me. It’s me. Everyone in the goddamn Fatui thinks I made a bad call now when I set you free and, I’m going to be honest, I’m beginning to think they’re ri—

Childe stiffens next to you, standing.

“That’s enough,” he says, the look in his eyes dark. “What’s done is done,” he says. “Or do you need to vent some more?”

Scaramouche crosses his hands, a look of...regret? embarrassment? pity? Flickering across his eyes. He stands up with an unreadable look on his face.

“I’m...being serious. Consider whether or not you still want to work in the Fatui. This is the best shot you’ll have at leaving.” Scaramouche’s eyes flit over to you, where Childe’s hand is now wrapped protectively around your waist. “Though if I’m honest, I don’t think you even want to be a human trafficker anymore.”

Childe says nothing to that, merely waving casually as Scaramouche exits the apartment through the hole he made in the door. You wince when you see the damage, wanting to ask your owner how he plans on repairing it, but another question is more pressing on your mind:

“Ajax?”

“Yes?”

“Who’s Lumine?”

Your owner looks at you, brushing his thumb by your cheek as his eyes take on a nostalgic tint.

“I’ll tell you some other time.”

Childe goes back to his bad sleeping habits as soon as Scaramouche leaves. Within seconds, your owner is shirtless and has flopped onto the bed, shooting you a pleading look to curl up next to him. Thankfully, this spell seems to last a little shorter than the previous one because although the man refuses to get out of bed, he at least entertains you with a conversation.

“What else?” you ask, a playful smile on your face as Childe continues telling you stories about Xiangling.

“Well, there was this one time where some kid was making fun of Xiangling for being bad at art, so she and I decided that we’d bring in sandwiches for the entire class and make his extra spicy. I actually helped her with the cooking process and all, so I watched how much chili she put into the sauce she was going to use for this kid’s sandwich and it was ridiculous, like I thought she was trying to murder him or something, but anyway, we get to school and start handing out the sandwiches, and…”

You’re completely enthralled as Childe tells you the story of how he had to go to the nurse’s office because he, unfortunately, was the poor soul to eat the overly-spicy sandwich through a Xiangling-esque mix-up—and you don’t care that he’s probably making it up just to see you laugh, all that matters is that the man is smiling and talking and not staring miserably at the ceiling the way he has been for the past few days.

“You should try that the next time you’re in a business meeting with someone you don’t like,” you say, giggling. “It would be such a flex if they thought that you could eat something so spicy while they’d struggle.”

“Maybe,” Childe chuckles. “I really wanted to do something like that to those two Mondstadt pricks—and it might work, too, since they’re at least still doing business with me—but they already left the country.”

“What?” you ask in alarm, fear presenting itself as excitement through the speed with which you respond.

“Yeah,” Childe hums. “They had to go early or something. I guess it’s fine since we already agreed on the mode of transportation, but—”

“Wait, really? B-but hasn’t it been less than two weeks since your last meeting with them?”

Alarm bells begin to ring inside your mind. You remember—you swear you remember the two of them telling you that you’d have at least two weeks to get the documents before they’d leave. But could it be that they’ve forgotten about you? What if they decided you were trouble? What if they know that you’ve begun to grow close to Childe as of recent? What if they—fuck—you’ve actually begun to like the redhead, haven’t you? The fact that he’s not bringing to meetings anymore, handing your body off to be fucked like a toy before he takes you back, has made you forget that the man in front of you is a monster, hasn’t it? Could they somehow know?

A pool of dread rises in your stomach.

What you did today in the shower, willingly touching him and showing him affection he’s done nothing to deserve, was disgraceful. How can you expect Diluc and Kaeya to free you if you’re not even doing your best to be freed? What if they know about what happened today? What if they think you’re a lost cause? What if they abandoned you here because of your own naivety, and you’re cursed to a life of human trafficking for the rest of your days because of your own idiocy?

“Angel?” Childe asks, cupping your cheek. You violently flinch away from his touch, a defensive anger creeping into your eyes. “Angel, I—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I…”

You shut your eyes, reminding yourself of your position. He may not be using you right now, but Childe is a human trafficker. You’re nothing more than his favorite toy. Getting close to him like this will do nothing but hinder your escape.

“It’s nothing,” you say, averting your eyes. Still, you make no effort to return to Childe’s warm embrace. “Just, um, tired. I’m going to take a nap.”

Childe must know that what you’re saying is utter bullshit, primarily because these past few days have been nothing but sleep and rest and more sleep, but he doesn’t push it. “Alright,” he says, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You turn away from him before he can get close.

There’s a strange sound Childe makes, then. It’s something between a sigh and whimper, dejected and hurt all at once, but you don’t turn around to check on him. He’s a monster, you tell yourself, forcing the image of Childe looking like a kicked puppy out of your mind. A fucking monster.

And the only two people in the world who are willing to get you away from this monster may have just abandoned you, so you really need to get your shit together.

Pretending to be asleep comes naturally to you after nine months of learning that sleep, even if feigned, was the only escape you could ever have from this life. Hours pass until Childe really has fallen into slumber, something you test by calling his name out quietly, and then you know that it’s time to go—or to at least go do what you can.

You’re abruptly grateful that you and Childe went to bed right after Scaramouche left because it means that you’re fully clothed, which is an unnatural state for someone like you. When you quietly climb out of bed and out of Childe’s apartment through the hole Scaramouche made in his front door, it almost makes you feel normal because even though you’re still dressed in a cutesy skirt and blouse, you’re not being accompanied by the one man who has never let you go outside alone.

When you finally take the elevator down the ground floor of Childe’s building, no one pays you a second glance as you walk out the front door.

Then, your mind is abuzz.

Don’t look at anyone, you tell yourself because you know that if you have a panic attack here, no one will be able to save you. Don’t look at anyone, just go to the hotel.

Hours of pretending to be asleep helped you sort out your thoughts: it makes sense that Childe would believe Diluc and Kaeya to be gone. After all, they don’t want your owner getting any ideas that they were the ones to free you; however, you need to make sure that they’re actually here.

And besides, you reason to yourself as you cross the street and step towards the hotel you’ve seen so many times across Childe’s apartment. It’s best to make sure I know where they are so that I don’t get confused when I actually escape. It’s important to do this.

With your eyes locked on the ground the whole time, you enter the hotel and take the elevator to the second floor where rooms 213 and 214 will be, just as Diluc and Kaeya instructed. No one pays you any attention, as if reminding you of your insignificance, but you’re grateful for how invisible you seem to be as you exit an empty elevator and wander down a carpeted hall.

This hotel is a considerable downgrade from the extravagant location Diluc and Kaeya were renting out as a front for their supposed trafficking, but it sets you at ease. When you finally stand in front of room 213, it looks almost...normal.

Hesitant, you raise a hand and rap your knuckles against the wood.

“E-excuse me?” you ask, tension beginning to seep in. “Is anyone—are—Diluc? Kaeya?”

Their names sound foreign off your tongue but you repeat them anyway, the intensity of your knocking increasing until you’re practically banging on the door the way Scaramouche was this morning.

No response.

Panic begins to surface, and you quickly switch over to room 214, not bothering to start knocking quietly as you bang on the door desperately.

“Is anyone there?” you call, trying to keep your voice sufficiently low so as to not disturb other patrons of the hotel, but it’s really hard when your fears that Diluc and Kaeya really have abandoned you grow truer and truer with each passing second. “Please!” you sob, practically kicking the door in your attempts to will it into opening. “Diluc! Kaeya! You—you promised you’d—”

The door opens right as you’re about to bang your fists against it once more, and an incredibly annoyed and shirtless Diluc stands to catch both your fists right before you can hit his chest with them.

“I’m here,” he says in that familiar, deep voice of his. “Calm down. I’m here.”

“Oh,” you say, relief suddenly washing through you as you practically go boneless in front of him. You know it’s inappropriate, that the two of you share no real relationship other than the fact that he’s trying to help you escape, but you can’t help the way you instinctively throw yourself forward to embrace him. “Thank you,” you practically sob into his chest. “Thank you for being here.”

“I—” Diluc is quick to pull you back, and he levels his stare with you just as he wipes the tears from your cheeks. “Did you escape? Do you have the documents?”

The redhead glances around the hall once to confirm that no one is watching before he pulls you inside his room. You’re surprised to see a gagged and naked Venti on his bed, the boy’s eyes round in...fear? concern? You’re not sure. The gag surprises you until you remember Kaeya’s previous declaration that Venti was a masochist. He must be into BDSM, too.

“No,” you tell the man, shaking your head. “I just—Ajax told me that you and Kaeya left. S-so I wanted to check to see if you’d actually…”

It sounds stupid when you say it out loud. From the face Diluc is making, he seems to be thinking the same thing.

“Okay,” he says, effectively inviting you in as he walks back inside the room. He approaches the dresser to slip on the black and red gloves you saw from him last time, wearing them before moving to sit on the bed next to Venti, big hands cupping the boy’s slender thighs. “Okay, we’re here. And we’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Okay,” you respond, trying your hardest not to look at Venti. It’s clear that you walked in on an intimate moment. “Um…”

“We were having sex.”

Your cheeks burn. “Right,” you say, nodding your head. “That’s—um—all I—just wanted to check—going to—”

“Don’t leave unless you’re sure that there’s nothing you need,” Diluc says. “We can help you, you know. Give you a lockpick or a hammer or even a gun if that’s what it’ll take to get you access to those documents.”

“No, I’m…”

A soft smile floats onto your face. Awkward as he may be, you’re sure that this is just Diluc’s stoic way of being nice.

“I’m good. I already have a plan for the documents.” You’re about to smile and make your leave when you remember something that’s been at the forefront of your mind for ages. “But…”

Diluc lifts an eyebrow, waiting.

“Um...you don’t need to answer this, i-it’s actually not relevant, so I should—”

“What is it.”

Somehow, when Diluc says that with such a sharp gaze, it feels like less of a question and more of a demand.

You shudder, familiar with the sensation. Nine months of training makes your response automatic:

“Do you know what happened to Lumine?”

Diluc’s face changes.

“I mean—you don’t have to tell me. I was just curious. Ajax keeps talking about her and Scaramouche kept mentioning her and I don’t understand why she’s so important, so I haven’t—”

“Lumine was the name of a human trafficking slave who escaped,” Diluc says, folding his arms. Next to him, Venti leans into him and pulls his knees in, hiding his manhood. “I don’t know any exact dates, since there was probably a gap between when she escaped and when people began finding out, but it happened sometime within the past two years.”

“O...kay?” You cock your head to the side. That...honestly doesn’t sound like a big deal at all, honestly. Slaves escape all the time: heck, Scaramouche said that Xiao disappeared just a few weeks ago, so why isn’t Zhongli facing the same loss in business that Childe’s going through?

Diluc seems to see the confusion on your face.

“The thing was, when Lumine escaped, she took important documents with her.” Oh, you think, beginning to understand why that would be a problem. “At the time, no one knew who had lost her, since that person maintained anonymity during the whole affair, but those documents were said to have definitive evidence that could be used to prosecute basically every human trafficker who had business dealings with Lumine's handler. And since that person was anonymous, it meant that every human trafficker in the world was at risk.”

“I...see.” Now you understand why people wouldn’t want to work with Childe at the revelation that he was the man who lost Lumine. “That’s unfortunate.”

“I guess.” Diluc shrugs and crosses his arms. “The incident was resolved pretty quickly, and everyone soon found out that Lumine had been killed before she could hand the documents over to anyone of importance. Still, though, for someone as prolific as Tartaglia to be the imbecile to have lost his merchandise…”

You hate how your heart immediately beats in defiance when Diluc calls Childe an imbecile. He is an imbecile, you try to tell yourself, despite the fact that you feel nothing but sorrow and pity for him now that you understand what situation you’ve put him in. An imbecile. An asshole. A monster.

But somehow, your heart doesn’t seem to agree with your mind on those words.

“And it’s my fault everyone knows…” you mumble, more to yourself than Diluc or Venti.

Scaramouche’s words from this morning echo through your mind—Your life isn’t the only one she sabotaged, Tartaglia: everyone in the Fatui is suffering—and instantly, guilt hits you like a ton of bricks. Yes, these are human traffickers, but if you remember the utterly dejected look in Childe’s eye this morning, it feels infinitely worse to know that you’re the cause of his misery.

“Are you feeling bad for him?” Diluc asks in a whisper, but the look in his eye is dangerous. Even Venti, who had been pressed beside him up until now, begins to look fearful. “Are you seriously sympathizing with Tartaglia?”

“No, I—I’m not—”

“I hope not,” Diluc says, stony. “Because there are hundreds of other girls who want to be freed and haven’t begun to feel bad for their handlers, and Kaeya and I would much rather focus on them.”

“I’m not—”

“I hope so.”

Diluc stands abruptly, and you take that as your cue to leave.

“Th-thank you for taking the time to—”

“Yeah.”

Diluc practically pushes you out the door frame, then, his broad chest obstructing your view of the inside of the room, but your eyes fly to Venti, who kneels on the bed to make eye contact with you over the redhead's shoulder.

As Diluc begins reiterating the instructions for your return, you focus on the boy in the background.

Venti doesn’t seem to care that he’s nude. Hell, there’s not an ounce of shame on his face despite being gagged and covered in hickeys, and it would alarm you if you weren’t focused on the way he lifts his bruised arms up in an X-formation and begins shaking his head frantically. His lips appear to be forming the words to something, but you can’t understand what he’s saying through the gag.

You’re about to ask what Venti is saying when Diluc turns to see what you’re looking at.

For a second, the room seems to drop ten degrees. Venti freezes, staring at Diluc with round eyes, almost scared, and you swear you hear the redhead growl for a second.

A muffled whimper spills from Venti’s lips.

Diluc turns to you, a gentle smile that unsettles you on his face. “I think you should go,” he says. “Venti must really want my attention now if he’s trying to play games to get it.”

“O-oh, but what was he—”

“I suggest you leave now,” Diluc says, the kind-not-kind smile beginning to slip from his lips. “Because you’ve been here a while, and the last thing you should want is for Tartaglia to find you missing.”

“What about Kaeya—”

“Kaeya’s at the gym,” Diluc practically spits. “So unless you want Tartaglia tracking you there, too, I’d go straight back to your little apartment with him and pray that he didn’t notice you left.”

Despair builds in your chest at that. You were certain Childe was asleep when you left, but what if he reaches out for you while he’s sleeping? What if that wakes him up and he sees that you’re gone? What if—

“Go,” Diluc orders.

The redhead doesn’t wait for you to respond, then, simply slamming the door in your face. Immediately, you’re back in action. You dart for the elevator, knowing that you need to get home as quickly as you can if you want to minimize the chance of Childe waking up to find you gone.

Panic begins to rise. The familiar vines of anxiety begin to climb higher and higher through your stomach as the elevator begins to close with painstaking slowness. Your fingers fumble with the urge to make things move faster, and you doubt yourself for a moment, thinking that you should have taken the stairs, but it’s too late for that, now, with the doors just about to close, and—

You hear the beginnings of a scream. A high-pitched wail, something agonized and miserable and ruined.

Then, the sound cuts off with the closing of the elevator doors.

Too panicked to think, you don’t bother pondering the source of the sound as the elevator reaches the first floor and you stumble your way back to Childe’s apartment.

This time, you’re in so much of a rush that you do attract attention as you exit. Somehow, though, the thought of Childe waking up and finding you gone manages to overpower your fear at being seen, and you stumble forward through the hotel and towards Childe’s apartment building as fast as you can. When you’re safe inside, you have to take the elevator once more: because while Kaeya and Diluc were on the second floor of their hotel, Childe has the penthouse of his apartment, a distance much too large for the stairs to be a viable option, but your nerves begin to calm as you feel the elevator shift higher and higher.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll get home safe and everything will be okay.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Probably not.

The elevator opens directly in front of Childe’s front door, where the hole Scaramouche busted open this morning still remains. Ever careful, you step one foot inside, shift your weight forward, and duck inside.

As soon as you’re completely within the apartment, the pressure and fear of having escaped dissipate. You think that you’ve made it back safely, that you snuck out and will be able to sneak back in with no consequences.

Then, you see him.

“Y-y-y-you’re—”

Childe is shaking like a leaf, looking pale and sickly. His hair is disheveled, messy in a way that lets you know that he’s been running his hands through it for as long as you've been gone, and his mouth is caught open in a mix of shock, confusion, and relief.

“You’re back,” he mumbles in disbelief, and the way his eyes glisten in the darkness of his apartment, catching what little moonlight shines in and reflecting it off, tells you that he’s on the verge of tears.

Then, he blinks, and the tears begin to fall.

“I…”

Words fail you. You don’t know what to say to justify your leave. You don’t know if Childe even wants justification. The man stumbles towards you, and while logic tells you that you should guard yourself, should protect yourself, should prepare to be hit or whipped or assaulted the way a human trafficker would normally behave when his merchandise acts out, the vulnerable look in Childe’s eye makes you think that he won't hurt you.

“I-I—I thought you left,” he blurts, reaching forward to catch your palm in his, squeezing it as if he can’t believe you’re real. “Why—why didn’t you—why are you—”

Back.

He reaches forward to clasp your other hand in his, and when he stands so close to you, holding your hands to his chest like your touch is his lifeline, everything else seems to disappear. For the first time today, the conscious thoughts that this man is a monster and he’s a human trafficker who destroyed your life and you should hate him all disappear—leaving nothing but pain for how miserable he looks at having been left, how shook he is that you decided to come back, how overwhelmed he is that, likely for the first time, someone has chosen to come back to him.

It shakes you to the core.

Never have you seen Childe so rattled. Displays of weakness like this are ones he rarely indulges in, and never at your side. This is the first time you're seeing him openly cry, the man practically clinging to your hand like it's the only thing grounding him, and you realize that he's hurting, too. That Lumine and Diluc and Kaeya and everything else in this godforsaken world of human trafficking have fucked him up just like it's fucked you over, and what you're seeing now is the culmination of all of that.

"Relax," you whisper, letting go of all your resentment for a single moment to pull him close into a warm, loving embrace. "Ajax, relax. I’m here. I’ve got you."

They're the same words Childe used to comfort you when you had a panic attack in the middle of Xiangling's restaurant, the same words that pulled you to safety at a time when even your mind had turned traitor against your heart.

You can't explain why you're comforting him when he's done nothing but ruin your life.

Yet, as Childe clutches your figure and chokes back a harrowing sob, thick, wet tears falling onto your shoulder as he chokes out the words “thank you” over and over again, you can’t help how your embrace instantly tightens.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 6.6k

Notes: OKAY so you know how this was supposed to be four chapters? yeah unfortunately that would make the final super duper rushed or super duper long so there's going to be a fifth chapter! and after the fifth chapter there'll be a short epilogue-y chapter!! the fifth chapter (finale!) and epilogue will be posted together at the same time - i can promise this bc i already have the epilogue written - soo yeah :D my apologies as usual for being late, hope you enjoyed the developments in this chapter! comment thoughts and predictions <3

Comment & Like

Next Update: 7/18/21 (hopefully)

I do not own the rights to Genshin Impact or any of the characters within it.

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1 2 3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much.

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe x reader #childe #fanfic #genshin oneshot #kaeya alberich #dottore #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #lumine genshin impact #mona genshin impact #aether #barbara genshin impact #ajax x reader

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lonely-vault-boy · 3 years

Text

You think Dottore ever just intentionally steps on Scaramouche's feet? Like, his toes are out, and Dottore probably has heeled boots or something. You think he ever just “how much pain would a puppet feel” and just stomps on his foot to see his reaction?

#genshin impact #il dottore #scaramouche #fatui harbingers

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shirakumos-sandwich-shop · 3 years

Text

Scaramouche X Fem Reader X Tartaglia Final part

PART 9

Scaramouche sat in an armchair by the fire and stared into the distance.

“There is something I need to tell you both.” Scaramouche said darkly. You and Ajax glanced at each other. “I’m not one for beating around the bush so I’ll just get this over with. Y/n, no matter how much I try to plan around it, I just can’t make you happy.”

“Scara…” your heart dropped in your chest.

“It’s the truth and we both know it. This idiot is better for you than I am, it will always be that way.” He avoided your pleading gaze. “You know the truth about me now. I can’t love you like a human can, neither can I live and grow old with you like I should. And if you wanted children in the future I do not think I am capable of fathering them, given the nature of my accursed body.”

“Then why trap her with you for so long then? Why couldn’t you have just let her go when you saw how upset she was about the engagement?” Ajax broke in, he was clenching his fists.

“I’m a selfish bastard, we all know this. And I wanted her,” he glanced at you only for a moment, then spoke quieter. “Probably more than anything else.”

“You could have just avoided this and refused the engagement, Scaramouche.” Tartaglia was fuming. You stayed silent, listening to the two men.

“What? So you could keep pining after her for another ten years?” Scaramouche snarled. “You certainly didn’t take much effort with her until I came into the picture.”

“She deserves better than you, asshole!” Tartaglia drilled Scaramouche with his furious gaze. You sensed a fight about to break and stepped between them.

“Stop it, both of you! I’ve had enough of your fighting!” You stomped your foot.

“You should be glad it was me Tartaglia, imagine if she was engaged to Dottore, he’s even less human than me. Any of the other Fatui members for that matter. At least now you have a chance to take her back, if that’s what she wants.” Scaramouche got up and paced in front of the fireplace.

You swallowed hard, not believing what he was saying. “Does this mean you’re letting me go?”

Scaramouche gazed at you longingly, every pretense of authority gone. “Yes my love, you’re released from this forced bond. You are no longer my fiancée, go and do whatever you wish.”

Your head spun with a mix of dizzying euphoria and pain. Tears trailed down your cheeks and you hastily wiped them away.

“If being with you is what she wants then please take her, and marry her. The wedding was already prepared so go and marry her, take my place.” He was speaking to Tartaglia but his eyes only saw you. His shaky hands wanted nothing more than to hold you while you cried and do his best to comfort you.

Tartaglia put an arm around you and rubbed your back with his large hand. You fought back more tears and leaned against the redhead.

“There is one thing you need to know about Tartaglia. I don’t want to put this burden on her so I will take full responsibility for it. I violated her last night, it was only once, but don’t be angry at her for something that I forced her to do. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“Scara, why would you say that!” You whimpered. “You didn’t force me to do anything. It just… happened.”

Tartaglia stayed silent at this news. You felt his hand withdraw from you and fall to his side.

“What do you want to do, y/n?” Tartaglia asked gravely. You looked up at him with tear-filled eyes that melted his heart. “It’s up to you.”

“Scaramouche, can we talk?” You asked the shorter man. He nodded in response and you walked all the way to your room and into the greenhouse with him. “I just don’t want to be overheard.” you choked when you saw his questioning face.

“I should have told you what I was planning.” He reached to caress your cheek but then thought better of it. “I love you, y/n. That’s why I want what's best for you. And what's best… isn't me.”

“Then what about last night? Did that mean nothing?” Tears trickled down your face and you leaned against the table for support. “I was going to pick you, Scara. I wanted to be with you.”

“Oh, Y/n, I want you to stay so badly.” He gasped. “It did mean something.”

“Then why!”

“Because someday I’ll have to watch you grow old and die!” He nearly screamed. “I can’t… I can’t do that. Not while I remain the same.”

He reached out then and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Go on, and live a happy life without me.”

“But I love you.” You whispered, like it would change something somehow. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

He silenced you with a firm kiss. A hand continued to hold your cheek and the other snaked around your waist to pull you against him. The tears finally stopped as he released you.

“I love you too, you're the only person that has ever had my heart.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “You're the first person to make me realize I have a heart to begin with. Please don’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you, Scaramouche.”

“Say my real name, just this once.” He asked.

“Kunikuzushi?”

“It sounds so much nicer when you say it.” He smiled.

You knew it was no use, you couldn’t stay with him. The thought of a happy life with your childhood friend, Ajax, crept into your mind. You knew you would be happy with him, you would go with him, but a part of your heart would always remain here.

“It’s time to say goodbye now.” His voice shuddered. “I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“I forgive you.” You kissed him one last time. “Goodbye.”

--------

You ran into the arms of the tortured redhead that was pacing in the entry room.

“I’m so sorry Ajax. I love you. Could you ever forgive me?” You sobbed into his shoulder. He pressed his cheek against your head.

“Always, y/n.” He kissed your head softly. “I should have asked you this a long time ago. Will you marry me?” He whispered into your ear.

“Yes.” Tears were already streaming down your face again.

“Then let's go home.” He smiled broader than he had in months. “Let’s go start our life together.”

He took you by the hand and led you to the door. You stopped at the entrance and looked back at the empty room and fingered the ring on your finger. It slipped off of your hand easily and you set it on an empty table. And with that, Ajax led you into the snowy night.

-----

Scaramouche waited for what seemed like hours after he had heard the door close behind you. Every second was an eternity and every cell in his body screamed at him to run after you. But he didn't, he just stayed in the greenhouse he had built for you. Part of him hoped you would come rushing back in to tell him you wanted to stay with him anyway.

He ventured out into the entry room to find it completely empty. A small circle of metal caught his eye and he took it up to find it was the ring he had given you. He clutched it in his hand and shook with anger, sadness, loneliness, he didn’t know. His hand smashed into a mirror that graced the wall. Soon everything that wasn’t yours was torn apart. From the furniture to the books on their shelves, the whole house bared the marks of his anger and pain.

The rage ended though and he slid to the floor, exhausted. He looked at the ring he had given you and held it gently, like it might break at the slightest disturbance.

“Goodbye, my only love.”

----------

Seven months had passed by since you had married Tartaglia, each month happier than the last. You had been married on the very same day that you were supposed to marry Scaramouche. Your mother had been angry to say the least but your father couldn’t have been happier to have Tartaglia as a son in law. It had all moved so quickly. And here you were getting ready for yet another important event that you would attend with your husband.

“Ready?” The smiling Ajax appeared from behind the door.

“I guess. I don’t know about my dress, but I guess nothing will really look good on me right now.”

“Are you joking! You look gorgeous in anything you wear.” He hurried over to press a kiss on your cheek and then reached down to caress your very pregnant belly.

“You're just saying that.” you rolled your eyes and kissed him on the lips.

“You're always beautiful, no matter what.” He stood back to admire you in the long off white dress you had chosen. “Perfect! Ready to go?” He grinned widely.

-----

Tartaglia busied himself talking to people, checking in on you occasionally. You preferred to sit off to the side and watch the festivities, especially in your condition. Being pregnant was not a walk in the park. You sighed and tried to relax but the baby kicking in your womb was not allowing it.

“Do you have to do this right now?” you spoke to the baby.

“Do what?” A familiar voice said behind you. You whipped around to find Scaramouche leaning against a pillar.

“Scara?”

“Yeah… It’s me.” He said awkwardly.

“How are you?” It had been months since you had seen him. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him ever since you parted ways.

“Fine.” He said flatly. “Tartaglia works quickly.” He mused, gesturing to the large swelling of your abdomen.

“Oh yes, I’m expecting in about two months now.” You beamed. The brightness of your smile startled him. He moved closer and sat in a chair next to you.

“Are you happy?” He asked simply, his eyes filled with longing for a life he couldn’t have.

“I am.” You nodded. It hurt to see him this way now, you had hoped it would all just stay in the past but here he was right in front of you. The baby kicked again and you winced.

“Are you okay?” Scaramouche said with a worried look on his face.

“It's the baby.” you explained. “Always kicking.”

“May I?” He hesitated, hand reaching out to feel the baby bump.

“Okay.” Your voice was breathless. Scaramouche touched your stomach gently and the baby kicked again. His face lit up like a child’s at the sensation.

“I’m glad you're happy.” He said, wishing he could say something else, but he dared not. You placed your hand over his for a moment to let him know you knew the true meaning of his words. You both stayed and talked over meaningless things, just happy to hear each other's voices again. All the while, neither of you knowing that the child growing inside of you would have dark indigo eyes like swirling midnight skies. Just like him.

The End.

( Well... Thanks for reading this. It’s over now.... what do I do with my life...)

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@niorawr @mitskisaveme @nikekisaki @rin-ruee @cringy-otaku

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