#scaramouche hurt fic
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Broken Dreams
In which Scaramouche dreams. He dreams of what could have been.
Warnings: Parental trauma, very slight body horror, angst, hurt no comfort
Red.
The first thing Scaramouche notices as he blinks his eyes in confusion is the color. Red leaves, as vibrant as fire. Red, as intense as fresh blood spilled over snow. A pale hand reaches out to touch the leaves as his eyebrows furrow deeper, skewing his perfect features. Where in the world-
As his hand meets the warm leaf, a small bird flits into the boy's line of sight. Concerned eyes warm a bit as he watches the animal land softly on a dark sprawling branch. Sleepily, the harbinger tries to grasp his surroundings.
Sunset rays of light spill into the room, drowning the space in deep amber. Dancing in the light are dense maple tree branches, abundant in foliage. A distant sea breeze whispers through the leaves and tickles indigo hair against Scaramouche’s cheeks. The Balladeer glides his palm across a low branch, to the trunk of the tree, lost in the dreaminess of the scene. The air smells sweet and familiar… A small smile forms on Scaramouche’s lips as he tries to recall the scent.
“Lavender melon…” Scaramouche mutters to himself, deep in a misty haze. He inhales deeper, letting his chest fill up with the smell of the past, and he exhales with an even larger grin. Confusion melts to contentment as he pads around the eerily familiar space. White, powdered sand forms at the base of the maple trees, contrasting beautifully against the dark wooden floors. The entire room is so well manicured, the harbinger can’t help but wonder what the area was made for.
“I haven’t had a break in a while. Perhaps I could lounge here for a bit.” Scaramouche reaches to adjust his hat, quickly realizing nothing is there. He purses his lips and shakes his head.
Bright lavender eyes land on an electro symbol on the grand doors, causing his breath to catch in his chest. Slowly, he presses his hands to the large handles. Something stirs deep in his stomach as he watches the familiar symbol pulse with power. A warning? A memory?
Scaramouche swallows dryly and the door gives way, opening up to a larger room. The salty breeze picks up to a gale, swirling the loose white pants of his suikan around his knees. Wait, white-?!
“Get this shit off me!” The man shouts as his hands clench at the plum sleeves, tugging hard to remove the noble fabric. “What the fuck is this place?!”
A sound grabs the distraught Scaramouche’s attention and his eyes begin to dart from the unrolled long shades to the tatami mats to the beautifully decorated screen dividers. Anger and fear swirl like a dance in his torso, along with a shocking realization of his current reality.
“A dream. A fucking dream.” The puppet whispers aloud to himself as his gaze locks on a tall, slender shadow behind the divider. The anger numbs him as fear crawls up to claim his sensibility. The domain.
“Now, where did you run off to?” The voice of his creator calls out as her shadow moves closer. “My child, please let me see you. I have a gift.”
Scaramouche prided himself in his strength. In his ability to bring men twice his size to their knees from fear. In his ability to command an army’s number of people to do whatever he wishes. Scaramouche is the fear. He is the one who brings Fatui gunners to tears, begging for mercy.
But, under the divine gaze of his creator’s lilac stare, he is a stranger to the Balladeer.
He is a forgotten child once more.
“Stay away from me!” Scaramouche screams as the archon glides across the mats. Her violet hair is tied back in a majestic braid and it swings rhythmically as she walks. Intricate robes and accessories adorn her strong, slender body. Everything about her is familiar. Everything about her is her. All except one thing.
She's smiling.
Tears well in the doll’s eyes and begin to stream down his pale cheeks, flushing red with rage.
“How dare you call me yours!” The boy’s voice is broken. A lump sits in his throat and attempting to swallow away the pathetic sound only brings more tears. “I said stay away!”
“You don’t mean that. Please don’t say that, darling.” Beelzebub responds, melancholy softening her frightfully bright eyes. “You are my child…”
As if she’d punched him in the gut, the nameless puppet collapses to his knees.
“Fuck you.” He cries out as one hand wraps around the feather he wore on his neck. A symbol of the archon; one he’d worn long ago after being thrown away by his creator. Try as he might, the feather necklace did not tear. “I said stay away…”
A long, dark shadow casts over him and he dare not look up at her. There was no creator who wished to see him. The figure who towers over him is nothing but a figment from his childish memory.
Tender fingers wrap around his hand, urging him to stop struggling. Her touch is so warm and she feels so familiar. Scaramouche would have backhanded her across her face. Maybe he’d spit at her and curse her for touching him.
The puppet simply freezes.
Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he did not mean it.
“I hate you. I hate you!” His thin hands cover his face, shielding himself from her intense watch. How deplorable. How utterly shameful it is, allowing himself to crumple as the god pulls herself flush to her doll. The self loathing thoughts only grow louder as Ei’s hand finds his cheek. As his eyes find his archon’s once more, he finds himself leaning into her touch, despite his venomous words.
Soft digits smooth back the dark bangs that stick to the puppet’s forehead. Delicate and strong, she strokes his hair away from his eyes and pulls him closer. The contact only urged his tears to pour faster. He folds himself inward, allowing her to wrap her muscular arms around him. She feels so close, it feels so real. Bile stings the boy’s mouth as he cries harder.
“Why do you cry, child?” Beelzebub’s voice is not her own. It is full of love and compassion; worry and comfort. It is not the voice of a creator or a ruler, but the voice of a mother. The Ei he knew did not care for the whys of the worthless puppets' tears. She cared for it to have never happened in the first place. “I told you, I brought a gift. Did you just miss me?”
“You are not real!” Wails the nameless doll once more. His feeble body shakes so vigorously, he fears he may pass out. “You’re not her, you bitch. This is a stupid dream. No- a nightmare!”
The archon’s brows turn inwards and she studies the boy’s face in confusion. It was unfair of his mind for creating such a perfect replica of the real Ei. From the electricity that sparked inside her irises to the kind refinement of her voice. It was his mother, just as he remembered her.
Sobs tear from his hollow chest as the mother calms her dreadful son. She presses cool kisses to his damp cheeks and whispers promises and apologies into the boy’s ear. Each word is like another slap to the face. Another crack to his ribs. He almost misses the real Beelzebub’s hand, striking the sword from his hands with hot thunder.
Gentle words from the wrong mouth are more painful than any insult.
With a soft nudge, Beelzebub coaxes the puppet to look at her once more, this time with her other hand outstretched. Inside her palm sits the gnosis, glowing the same shade of electric lilac as Ei’s hair. Her irises shine as she brings the gnosis closer and the boy screws his eyes closed, begging to wake up from this nightmare.
“Wake up! Stop touching me, you bastard!” His vacant chest rattles with want. Bone against bone, grinding together deep inside his torso, as if his trunk was opening up to accept the heart. He shakes his head wildly, but stays frozen in his creator’s compassionate hold. “You left me. You left me here, devil!”
“This belongs to you.” Ei whispers as she cradles the gnosis between them. Mother and son, shining brightly in shared celestial violet. Something the boy never even allowed himself to dream of. The puppet wept helplessly, sadly whimpering out one last rejection.
“This isn’t fair. This isn’t real.” His splintered throat mutters faintly. “Please. Stop this…”
Despite his pleading, the archon presses her loving hands to his hollow chest with a twinkling grin. Vibrant eyes burst wide as he cries out. He isn’t sure which hurts more; his throat from the screaming or the kind touch of a mother he will never have. She leans closer, letting the gnosis settle in the puppet. It sat perfect, as it was always meant to be before it was stolen from him. His entire being feels as if it was swallowed by a harmless flame and the world around them blurs. Ei, framed by red maples and honey colored sun rays, smiles down at her wretched child.
“I love you… I love you.” Her words are muddled beneath the heartbreaking roar of agony from the doll. His blank, broken stare looks past her to the roof of the domain where large chains decorate the ornate design. “You’ll always be my child. No one better to hold my heart than he who is my heart.”
The puppet wakes from his own howl, hands scratching at his bare chest like a wild animal. He groans as he sobs from the ache, pressing two hands to his mouth to muffle the sound. The ache of nothingness. Like a collapsed star, he folds into himself.
Empty.
Hollow.
Heartless.
For the rest of the night, the man does not sleep. For if he closes his eyes, he may allow himself to dream. He quietly attempts to wash the memory away and dresses himself in his Fatui garments in silence. As he adjusts his hat atop his head, he looks in the mirror. The inadequate doll stares back, trembling from fear, reaching out to be loved. Before he could even realize his own actions, Scaramouche welts his fist through the reflection, wearing his signature smirk.
With a flick of his wrist, the Balladeer brushes the glass shards from his fist as he leaves the room.
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfic#scaramouche#scaramouche angst#hurt no comfort#ei#raiden ei#ei is scaras mother#scara drabble#scaramouche hurt fic#scaramouche headcanons#tumblr girls#genshin angst#genshin hurt#scaramouche backstory#nightmares#raiden family
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Happy Birthday!
Relations: Ayato, Albedo, Alhaitham, Aether, Childe, Cyno, Scaramouche/Wanderer x Gender Neutral Reader (separate obv )
Warnings: uhm slight angst, swearing, too much fluff ew (aw), forgetting abt ur birthday (literally all of them do)
support me on kofi!! link is on master list (pinned post)
Ayato:
-I’ll be so fucking supercalfraglicious rn, that man won’t even be able to spend it with you.
-Yoimiya and Ayaka def bet 10$ he forgets acc
-but because I’m SUCH a sucker for angst to fluff
-In the morning, he won’t even know what day it is. He’ll be to tired to comprehend anything. He’s not a morning person in the slightest
-He does wake up before you though due to the work, so you’ll still be asleep while he greats ready and gives ur forehead a lil smooch before he heads out to do any tasks or duties
-you’ll wake up upset to see NO GIFT LIKE WTF
-richest man in Inazuma CANT even get u anything ?!
-maybe he left it for thoma so he can give it to you when you wake up!!
-when you go eat breakfast, ur eyes light up to see thoma holding a gift but slightly dim when it’s none other than his and not your beloveds.
-nonetheless your happy you got a gift !!
-it’ll be a few hours and STILL no gift. Thoma tells you with a sad dog pout face that Ayato did forget
-so you actually spend the day with him!!! thoma >>>>>
-your back in the evening, signs of daylight all gone as night was to hit
-when ur back you fully come to terms Ayato did forget about your birthday because he didn’t even wish you a happy bday :)
-you walk past him sitting on the bed with a few bags of stuff you liked that Thoma bought as another gift and Ayato looked at you confused
“Who bought you all of that?” He asked, sitting up and setting a few work files down on the bed.
“Thoma.” You answered, not even sparing him a glance.
“Confusion grew more along with a tinge of jealousy. “What was the occasion?”
“My birthday.”
-I’m telling u rn any type of emotion DROPS
-he lowkey might start crying
-hell ask u to sit on the bed and apologize for everything and like just kiss u all over and if ur still mad he’ll understand but like god knows you can’t stay mad at him
-he acc takes u on a shopping spree the next day and tasks Thoma with inviting all of your friends so when you get back to the estate, it’s none other than a surprise party!!
Albedo
-HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHAY A BIRTHDAY IS
-thankfully you explained it to him a few weeks before your birthday and even if he isnt human, he’d like to partake in it
-but he’s never done this before so he has to seek out Kaeya for them
-he went to Klee first but decided It wasn’t best to give you a bomb for your birthday
-Kaeya tells him all type of gift ideas and Albedo acc saves up a bunch of his money to buy you all your favourite stuff
-he’s so cute
-he tries to bake a cake
-key word tried
-his cake became demolished like alchemy couldn’t even fix it
-it was adorable though and you thanked him for everything. he forgot about work the whole day just for you :)
Alhaitham
-i cant decide if he forgets or is just too busy to spend it with you
-I think he’ll forget to call off work on the day of your birthday and won’t be able to spend it with you
-like he remembers your birthday but his slow ass just couldn’t remember to call off work
-he does have a present ready for you though! and a long message he sent to your Akasha while he was at work
-he actually did come home early just for you
-insert him twirling you around omfjwknfkwjdjwdjjed
-so if u decide to go out, he’ll take you to a very fancy and expensive restaurant and give u ur gift there
-if u decide to stay in he’ll bake a cake from scratch with you (those cute movie scenes where there’s like flour on both of ur faces)
-and then end the night watching a movie and falling asleep or birthday fuck, ur choice
Aether
-THIS MAN DOES NOT FORGET
-he’s just too busy he can’t spend the whole day with you
-BUT he takes you on commissions with him!!
-big mistake
-so u end up getting hurt and he has to take you to the nearest like hospital or whatever they have in that world
-he’ll probably just cry out of guilt because it’s ur birthday and part of his gift was that you practically almost die
-memorable birthday in my opinion
-birthday scar !!!
-he gives paimon a bunch of mora so she can go buy food and you both end up spending your birthday in the hospital
-hey at least he’s with you !!
-he acc crawls in the hospital bed beside you and your both just cuddling
-paimon is in the corner btw making sure y’all don’t do shit if ykyk
-once ur all better, he makes sure to take you out to dinner and get you an even better gift <3
Childe
-he forgets.
-not changing my mind.
-like I feel like ekaterina will have to remind him
“How is Y/N’a birthday so far?”
-insert jaw drop, shock face, eyes wide
-he will BURST out the bank and run straight to your shared home
-now you’ll be sad but like ur choice if u wanna cry or be mad
-if ur crying on the bed he’ll sit beside you and start kissing u all over ur face and saying he’s sorry and sorry all over again while whispering endearments
-if ur mad he’ll let himself be a punching bag
-he ENCOURAGES u to slap him but you only punch him playfully
-he’ll take you out and get you the most EXPENSIVE jewelry like literal fucking diamonds
-if u even want u can spend it with Zhongli too
-he just wants to make sure you have the best day just minus the fact he literally forgot
-he’ll take u in a trio to Snezhnaya or anywhere in the world just for you to forgive him
Cyno
-ladies and gents and my non-binary friends….
-he doesn’t forget!!!
-he acc has it all planned out- where you wanna celebrate is your decision
-if you wanna adventure around? Go for it! He’ll be with you and protect you from any monsters
-you wanna stay in? he’ll buy every movie you love and you’ll do a movie spree
-u wanna party ? Even on short notice he’ll Invite everyone hours before and youll all be having fun in the bazaar
-nonetheless he just wants you to have fun- it’s your day after all
-he has a lot of money, he just didn’t know what to get you, so if there’s any free time he’ll let you go around and buy whatever you want
-at the end of the day he’ll cuddle up to you and omg HE’LL LIKE whisper the happy birthday song to you as you drift off to sleep and idk why but that’s so cute to me
Scaramouche/Wanderer
-guys I’m just gonna say Scaramouche cuz for this he’s still working for Fatui but he is very ooc and soft (wanderer personality kinda)
-so sorry friends but the man literally doesn’t even know it’s your birthday month
-I think Childe will remind him by asking how your bday day is so far and Scaramouche will be like fuck
-Childe will def kaugh at him for forgetting but out of kindness he’ll tell Scaramouche what to do
-Scaramouche will race home and he’ll kiss u and shit hug u and apologize while saying he’ll do anything to make it up to you
-ANYTHING.
-you guys are in Snezhnaya and there’s not much to do but you decide to go ice skating !!
-you’ll have to teach him cuz he can’t skate for life
-he’ll encourage you to just take his mora or card or wtv and buy whatever you want cuz like
-he’s loaded
-you just decide to go buy some food aka hot chocolate to warm up. Maybe some snacks if you wanna watch movies that night
-he does buy you a cake though so when your home he can light it up
-he’ll sing the bday song while hugging you from behind and when it comes to your age he’ll blow out the candles with you then kiss u on the cheek
-UGH
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#scaramouche x reader#genshin fic#genshin impact scaramouche#childe x reader#childe genshin impact#scaramouche x y/n#genshin crack#genshin impact thoma#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato#al haitham#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x reader#cyno x reader#albedo x reader#aether x reader#genshin hurt/comfort#fluff#genshin fluff#genshin birthday#cyno fluff#scaramouche fluff#alhaitham fluff#ayato fluff#albedo fluff#aether fluff#childe fluff
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you’re a mean one (mr grinch)
(scaramouche/wanderer x reader)
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Scaramouche has had enough! He was determined to get your attention. Get your attention back to where it belongs, him and him only and instead of everyone else at this godforsaken Christmas party!
You’ve been avoiding him all day because you both had a small argument about Christmas decorations and he was over it! He wanted your attention back and was determined to get it.
Though his head was spinning and the eggnog in his mouth tasted a bit more bitter than he remembers it tasting, he still dragged his legs into the kitchen where you're cleaning, wanting nothing more than your touch right now.
Mostly everyone had made their way out, you stuck behind because you were helping a friend clean. You didn’t really expect Scaramouche to stay behind and wait since he seemed annoyed after you both argued earlier.
You heard the kitchen door slide open, not bothering to turn to see who had entered as you were too focused on the task at hand. Cleaning up the kitchen.
You felt someone pull on your shirt with force, making you take a few steps back from the kitchen sink.
“Hey what the!”
Just as you were about to slap the person's hands away you felt the same pair of hands pull you close to their chest.
You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was now as the familiar scent of your boyfriend's cologne flooded your senses, making you let out a sigh of relief, thankful some random person wasn’t grabbing at you.
You turn to look at him, confused by his sudden display of affection. His eyes looked anywhere but yours. His cheeks and ears seemed to be more flushed as he pulled you closer to him.
“You’re warm.” Scaramouche whispers, resting his head on your shoulder making your body freeze.
Now you were really confused because he was acting like you both didn’t just argue before arriving at the party. Yes, the argument may have been small and meaningless but you would be lying if you said your feelings weren’t hurt a bit.
Christmas is your all time favorite holiday and decorating for it is something you very much look forward to doing. So, when you took out the decorations and started to put them up, Scaramouche had just come home in a particularly snappy mood because of something that occurred at work. When he walked in and saw your decorations he grew more annoyed for no reason. You were unaware of his mood and asked if he’d like to join and he said no, called your decorations stupid and said it was meaningless to do so since he’ll just take them down because the he sees no point in celebrating the “dumb holiday” making you feel slightly embarrassed for even trying to decorate in the beginning.
You are aware of the moods he can get in, but what he said hurt your feelings a bit. He ended up arriving at the party earlier than you since it led to a small argument and him leaving your shared apartment. Before you made your way out you ended up taking down the little decorations you did manage to get up, feeling stupid for even trying and pushing it onto him when he didn’t want to do it in the first place.
The way he was acting right now was making you confused since he’s not one to give in, also Scara isn’t one to get touchy feely in public and though there wasn’t anyone around it still confused you as to why he was acting like this.
Just as you were about to question him you hear a familiar annoying laugh come from behind you as the kitchen door slides open once again.
“Oh gosh what’s this? Is he actually showing affection to you? Hahah *burp* I think he had too much eggnog.” Childe slurs, as he throws himself on nearby the counter to keep himself up.
“Eggnog? How would eggnog get him like this?” You question, confused as to why he was this tipsy off some eggnog.
“Well because this bowl over here,” Childe stumbles to the kitchen table and leans over, turning and sending you a smile. “Is my ‘homemade’ eggnog. Family recipe actually helps keep us adults warm during the freezing holidays up in Snezhnaya if you know what I mean.” Childe raises his eyebrows at you and you feel a pair of hands grab on to your waist, pulling you back a bit.
“Shut up Childe. Leave us alone. I want y/n all to myself.” Scara defensibly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest sending a cold glare at Childe.
“Woah woah there,” Childe’s hands go up in defense. “They’re all yours buddy just giving them a heads up.” He sends a wink your way as he makes his way to the kitchen door, giving you a knowing look before slipping out.
“Scaramoche?” you gently tap on his hand, earning a small hum as he kisses your shoulder making you clear your throat.
Thankfully no one else was in the kitchen and the party you both were currently at had ended not too long ago.
“Scaramouche. How much did you have to drink?” You ask, patting again to get his attention, only to feel his arms wrap around your waist tighter.
“You’ve been here all night, time for you to come with me. Let's go home, I've missed you.” He closes his eyes, you didn’t use the nickname you always called him which got him more annoyed. His body was slightly swaying side to side as his hand moved to your waist, moving you along with him.
“I have to finish cleaning.” You turn away from him, you were still slightly upset with the way he acted earlier.
“You’re no fair you know?” His movements stop as he lifts his head up slowly.
In an instant he has you turned around, making you let out a small surprised yelp earning a shit eating smirk from him right after.
“Scaramoche! Im serious, just how much did you drink?” You ask, hands planted on his chest to steady yourself.
“Not much,” he rolled his eyes. “This is nothing, besides I’m here to get you because you owe me!” He states, eyes narrowing at you.
“What? Just what exactly do I owe you? You’re the one that decided to tag along.” You ask, giving him a questioning look, confused as to why he even wanted your attention, wasn’t he still upset too?
His hands gently grab yours, lifting them to cup his face, his eyes closing as he lets out a content hum at the feeling of your touch.
Seeing him vulnerable like this made your heart flutter, his touch was making your skin burn by how gentle he was being. Was it the alcohol speaking though? He probably doesn’t even remember the meaningless flight we had earlier. You think to yourself as you gently pat his face, small smile fading as you remember the dumb argument.
“I have to get back to cleaning. I'm almost done. We’ll head home in just a bit ok.” You send him a smile, gently pulling your hand back and turning around
“Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to get back to cleaning…. hEY-“
Your body only turned halfway before he quickly took hold of your wrist, pulling you back. Pushing you until your back made contact with the counter, his arms caging you in leaving you no room for escaping.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He questions, face mere inches from yours.
The sweet smell of eggnog and bitter notes of alcohol filled your scenes as he leaned closer.
“You owe me something, you know that right?” He whisper’s, making you nervously gulp.
“Come on now,” his hand makes its way to the side of your face as he gently took hold, his thumb swiping your lower lip as he licked his own. His pupils blown wide as he looks at your lips.
“What’s gotten into you?.” You question, hand coming to rest on his forehead checking for any signs of fever making him roll his eyes.
“You won’t give me your attention.” He states flatly, eyes longingly staring at you.
“You’re not mad anymore?” You ask, confused because he never gives in or asks for your touch like this.
“You were mad earlier, I thought maybe you were still annoyed with me.” You admit, pouting a bit, making his breath hitch.
He had forgotten about your small argument and truth be told he wasn’t even mad at you in the first place, well he was annoyed at how you “avoided” him but he had forgotten he had stormed out and left you alone before the party. So now seeing your furrowed brows and sad eyes, he feels slightly bad for how he reacted earlier.
“You weren’t giving me attention, you haven’t kissed me all day.” He admits, feeling bad as he remembers how he blew up on you for no reason.
“Why do you want my kisses? I thought you were annoyed with me.” You ask, feeling bad for keeping distance during the party now, seeing how Childe had made him drink when he probably didn’t want to.
“But it’s tradition isn’t it?” He questions you, corner of his mouth turning up as your eyebrows furrow together, confused as to what he was implying.
His index finger tilts your chin up as he looks up at the ceiling along with you and in all its glory hangs a mistletoe.
You felt his breath tickle your face as he let out a chuckle, “You can’t say no to tradition now can you?” He asks, knowing full well you're a sucker for anything holiday related. He remembers how you were excited to decorate earlier and he knows how much you love simple decorations like this.
“Well maybe I can,” you look away from him feeling embarrassed, “I ended up taking down the decorations.” You admit, making his heart sink a bit at your sad expression. “I didn’t realize I overdid it with the decorations a bit I’m-“
His lips crash onto yours shutting you up because gosh he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t realize that what he said bothered you so much for you to keep thinking about it, he knew you were about to apologize for absolutely nothing so he decided to shut you up with a kiss he’s been desperately wanting this whole night before you were able to get it out.
“You don’t know,” He hums, deepening the kiss as both his hands gently cup your face. “You don’t know how much I wanted this.” He speaks between kisses making your stomach erupt with butterflies because goodness sakes he doesn’t know what he does to your poor heart.
A small mewl escapes your lips and into the kiss making him smile, hand traveling down to your waist to pull you closer. You now tasted the egg nog you had smelled coming from him earlier, it tasted sweeter than you thought it would.
“Don’t deprive me from this ever again.” He suddenly stops, pulling away his eyes much softer and features less tense than earlier.
“I’m sorry I was being rude earlier. I didn’t mean to blow up on you and call your decorations stupid. I’ll help you put the decorations back up when we get home.” He smiles, one that makes your face feel warm because the look he was giving you was too tender for your heart to handle.
“You mean it! You promise it’s not stupid? We actually don’t have to, you know? I did go a bit overboard. I know it was a bit much but I just wanted to decorate with you.” You admit, eyes looking away from his feeling slightly embarrassed for the way you acted.
“Hey, it’s not your fault, ok I wasn’t mad at you to begin with. Well ok yeah I was annoyed because you were depriving me from your kisses but now,” he leans in once again, smiling wide as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Now your attention is all mine once again so I couldn’t be any happier you see.” He smiles, planting two kisses on the corners of your mouth then a gentle one on your lips. “Now, let’s go home and decorate, yeah? Let's leave this lame Christmas party already and have our own back at home.” He nods his head, smile widening when you excitedly nod yours back. “I like that idea.” You laugh, and he gently pinches your cheeks, planting one last kiss on your nose before lacing your fingers together. His mood now lifted as he feels you give his hand a squeeze. Maybe now his mood about Christmas won't be so bitter anymore.
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authors note: hello lovlies!!! posting early today what?!? well it’s not necessarily early but it’s a day earlier than when I regularly post hehehe. and look it’s a fluff one shot!! finally omg I was like I need to at least give the people a break with angst for once, at least once lol so here is this fluff hurt/comfort scara fic woooo!! wrote for him to celebrate him finally being playable after two years and bc he came home ꒰´꒳`∗꒱. ALSO OHMY- it’s two weeks to Christmas already what?!?! remember to stay safe, stay warm I’m very thankful for each and everyone of you and I want you to know I’m happy that you’re here! :D stay safe everyone please, I do hope you all enjoy ^~^<333
#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genhsin hurt/comfort#genshin impact oneshots#genshin fic#genshin impact scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#oneshot#scaramouche angst#scaramouche fluff#christmas one shot#mr grinch#christmas spirit
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negative thoughts crowd vulnerable minds - wanderer x reader, hurt-comfort, already established relationship, lowercase intended (for style~)
a/n
i was thinking of the silent starry night ost.. like the one during sumeru city nighttime.. piano music kills me inside and wakes up a beast inside of me at the same time :)
enjoy the read! (~5-7 minutes)
walking alone through sumeru city was foreign to the one who you could only call your soulmate, since meeting both you and the lesser lord.
he thought he should get used to it. dependency was also foreign, as dependency proved to continuously lead to betrayal, whether consciously recognized by him or not.
he stepped quietly through the streets, head lowered, attempting (and failing) to push away negative memories and thoughts swarming his mind like a cloud of pests. the night was quiet, the lights above him which he couldn't honestly call stars twinkling, reflecting off of his gold-trimmed hat and lighting the street with a dim light, with the help of the gibbous moon nearing its peak. the only sound heard was his wooden sandals, crickets and cicadas, and the trinkets attached to the ribbons hanging limply from his hat, the fabric and metal somehow appearing devoid of life.
for such a beautiful night, he couldn't help but think that it was lacking luster, despite the randomized splotches of color stretching across the sky, mimicking ribbons of a galaxy. the night was lacking both luster and you, and he couldn't help but linger on the thought. he wouldn't dare admit it to himself, but you managed to make him feel less worthless, and helped him to push away his own thoughts, instead infecting his head with your soft praises and whispered confessions of love, which was much preferred as opposed to his thoughts of darkness and long buried pain.
how dark his mind felt, despite the comforting glow of celestial lights above. his eyes never met the sky, his hands clenched to the point of his knuckles whitening.
his hands missing yours.
the thought occurred to him, a light burning away the fog while simultaneously clouding his mind further. he paused and lingered for a moment, before shaking his head and continuing with a hissed comment of disdain, his pace growing more hurried.
unknown to him, his mentor knew. nahida spoke softly to your mind while you were adventuring through lokapala jungle, marveling at the atmosphere with the thought of your lover back home lurking in the back of your mind. she told you of his fragile state and advised that you come back soon, lest he do something brash and hurt someone. you immediately cut your journey short and teleported to sumeru city, picking the waypoint at the northern edge of the city. the lesser lord had informed you that he intended to travel beyond the city, and advised you to use that waypoint.
you stepped through the grass, hurrying past the exit of the city and pursuing him, your steps crunching on the dirt road. you came upon him quickly, despite his quick pace. when you were just a few paces away, his head snapped around, prepared for a threat. when he realized it was you, his expression immediately softened and he fully turned towards you as your pace quickened into a sprint, nearly tackling him when you crashed into him. you wrapped your arms around him, and his brow furrowed.
“how did you know i was here?” he inquired almost accusingly, hesitantly raising his hands to your shoulders.
“nahida,” you replied briefly, muffled as you pressed kisses to the side of his neck, eliciting a soft tint of pink on his cheeks.
he was silent for a moment, contemplating how to respond to your sudden appearance and affection, before he sighed and snaked his arms around your torso.
“i should have guessed,” he finally muttered softly, accepting your embrace with a subdued response.
you stood clutching each other for a moment, though the moment felt too short to both of you as you pulled back to look into his face.
“she told me something was up..” you explained a bit further, eyes flitting from perfect feature to perfect feature, analyzing his expression.
he appeared apathetic, but his brow was furrowed.
“did she? and did she tell you to tackle me when you saw me, as well?” he asked, giving you a falsely disapproving look.
“that part was creative liberty,” you chuckled a bit.
he hummed softly, his eyes boring into yours, taking in your gentle and smiling face as if trying to memorize it.
“what's up?” you prompted softly, smiling gently as you inched closer, still hugging him.
he stared doubtfully, turning his head slightly to the side with his eyes still fixed on yours. “you will be worried.”
“no, we'll never know for sure unless you tell me.” you were almost bouncing with anticipation.
he dramatically rolled his eyes and sighed. “very well,” he conceded.
“..my mind is.. against me this evening,” he muttered, looking away with a scowl.
you nodded quickly, showing your attentiveness with both that and your focused eyes.
he took a moment to look back at you. he blushed a bit and glanced away, pursing his lips with a slightly uncomfortable and embarrassed expression.
“..i missed your affection,” he finally admitted, subconsciously holding you tighter.
you only chuckled at his timidity and gave him another hug. “i missed you as well,” you replied quickly, your voice soothing.
he looked back towards you, blushing even further as his expression grew more irritated. “how is it so easy for you to say that, and not me? you give me affectionate touches and words day and night, and yet i can't reciprocate?” he fussed, glaring down at you, though his anger was directed more inwards.
“why can't i give you what you deserve?” his voice faltered a bit.
your smile dropped. his mind was against him tonight, you realized. you shook your head, quick to reassure him. “no, no, it's alright, i underst-”
“it's not alright, it's.. it's reprehensible, is what it is,” he interrupted.
“you're selling yourself short.. you realize that, right? you must, it's glaringly obvious,” he spoke quickly.
“no, list-” you started, moving a hand up to his shoulder and holding him softly, but he interrupted you again.
“you do realize you can do better.. right..?” his voice softened a bit, his face betraying more and more despair.
“i can't treat you how you prefer.. why linger on me..?” he began to murmur.
“why me?” he reiterated, looking into your eyes, his own pained and glassy.
you could only shake your head, frowning at him. you wrapped him into another more secure hug, trying to ground him.
“i love you,” you softly mumbled, your breath warm against the nape of his neck.
he held you close. “don't.”
you two were silent for a while, hugging under the moon, just outside of the city.
“.. i'm not sure why you feel the ways you do,” you began softly, rubbing his back. he was dead silent, his head leaning on your shoulder.
“..but know that nahida and i value you very much. i.. i wish you wouldn't put yourself down so often.. i wouldn't fall in love with just anyone,” you murmured, pulling back from him and setting your hands on his shoulders.
when he pulled away from you, he was pouting like a toddler, tears spilling from his eyes, nose reddened and eyes puffy. your eyes widened at the suddenly vulnerable sight; such a display of emotion was rare for him. your hand instinctively moved to his cheek, affectionately thumbing away tears from his soft porcelain skin
“kuni, you're..”
“crying,” he finished for you, his voice quivering and his inhales shaky. “vulnerable. in front of the person i want to look my best in front of,” he muttered contemptuously towards himself. “embarrassed,” he hissed, before letting out a choked cry and moving to cling onto you again, sobbing into your shoulder. you sighed and moved your hand to his indigo locks, tousling them softly as he shook in your arms, before letting your palm rest on the soft curve of the back of his head.
“crying is therapeutic,” you mumbled softly, closing your eyes as you held him tight once again.
“i respectfully disagree,” he shakily replied, heaving breaths and yet still retaining his well spoken tone.
you sighed once again. “where were you headed?”
“away,” he replied curtly.
“fulfilling your title?” you joked softly.
he was silent for a moment.
“...yes,” he replied, a hint of a smile hidden in his shuddering voice.
“well, come on, pretty wanderer,” you spoke quietly, pulling away from him and letting your hands trail his arms before clasping with his hands. “good criers don't do it standing up,” you commented jokingly, smiling warmly at him.
he nodded, not as entertained by your jokes, but still giving you the courtesy of a slight smile, despite his tears. “you're amusing,” he mumbled, following you as you led him towards the teleport waypoint. you moved to sit within the grass, a yard away from the waypoint.
“come sit,” you beckoned, trying to pull him to the grass as well.
“patience,” he muttered, following you slowly to the ground and sitting beside you, his legs crossed.
you still held hands.
“was everything alright today?” you asked softly.
“for the most part,” he replied, rubbing tears from his face with his thumb. “being a glorified errand boy for nahida is.. unfulfilling, but constant. it is a routine.. a welcome routine.”
“oh, but there's some worth,” you pointed out, looking at him with a tilted head.
“hm?”
“you're doing favors for nahida.. that's very worthwhile, isn't it? maybe it's miniscule, but she would be inconvenienced without you, would she not?” you replied to his hum of curiosity, smiling lopsidedly at him.
he looked at you with a small smile and a slightly fond expression. “you've outsmarted me,” he mused softly, smirking at you. “i suppose i am worth something, then?”
“told you,” you chuckled warmly, squeezing his hand and scooting closer to him. “worthy of love.. and affection,” you added, smiling adoringly at him.
“affection? do elaborate,” he prompted softly, his small smirk still adorning his thin lips.
“words aren't enough,” you murmured in a low voice, shamelessly flirting with him.
he chuckled softly and leaned into you, moving his free hand to hold your cheek as he leaned closer. he pressed his lips to yours, evidently responding well to your flirting. you reciprocated, leaning towards him with a hand on his leg, his lips soft and surprisingly well taken care of.. or just flawless by design. his soft touch sent sparks down your spine, no matter how many times the action had been repeated in the past.
you held your lips to his for a few moments, before pulling away, both of you captivated by each other's eyes and smiling slightly, clearly adoring and appreciative of each other. you gradually moved your hand off of his leg, though his cold hand lingered on your cheek. you stood and smiled down at him, ready to pull him to his feet.
“you wanna go back to the city, kuni?” you asked softly.
he nodded in response, getting up with your help. you both looked towards the glittering city, hand in hand, comfortable silence enveloping you and him.
“let's,” he mumbled after a while, turning towards the teleport waypoint, which made you turn around too. he glanced towards you with a small smile, nodding for you to teleport the two of you.
you reached out and touched the waypoint lightly, destination visualized in mind as you two briefly dissolved into stardust, materializing somewhere deeper in the city, hands still interlaced.
#fanfic#writing#first fully published fic omg#oneshot#wanderer#scaramouche#x reader#wanderer x reader#wanderer x y/n#wanderer x you#no use of y/n#but its still you dont worry#hurt/comfort
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Photograph
Nahida & Wanderer [Platonic, Hurt/Comfort]
We still miss the people we’ve lost, but we’ll move forward and create new memories with new people, capturing moments until we become a collage of a life well-lived.
Wanderer ran his thumb on the smooth surface of the photograph cradled on his hand, tracing every curve, every feature of the people inside the frame, redrawing the lines of shock in shock in Paimon's face just when a bug landed on her shoulder, the arc on Traveler and Nahida's face as they laughed, and the sharp angles of his frown as he annoyingly scolded the group of fools he was in.
"Isn't it wonderful to have photos like this?" Nahida's smile was as bright as the clear sky above as she gazed at her own copy of the photo, "Being able to preserve a moment in time, capturing the emotions and all the colors in a single snapshot." Melancholy swam in her eyes like a fish left alone in a sea where two tails once waded through, "To see the people as if they never left."
"Time stops for no one, yet..." She held the photo against her chest, the same way a splitting image of her cradled her in her arms, "Wouldn't it be nice if we can turn back time and drag it on so the future doesn't come, so people we hold dear don't have to fade like the sun's light when evening comes. If only we can make a moment last forever."
A glimmer in Wanderer's eyes, a sparkle of wishful thinking.
If...
If he could make a moment last forever,
A moment where the flames never came to devour every smile, every laughter--everything-- and did not have the chance to crumble them into ashes trampled on by fate,
Then they would be here with him,
Laughing,
Dancing,
Calling him with the kindest of smiles.
Yet he stood in the present, watching the past play back like a grainy film lost in the sands of time.
Let me stay right here,
Just a little longer,
Just a minute longer,
Just a second longer,
Just until I learned how to live without all of you,
Just until I learned to breathe in the new breeze,
Just until I learned how to live.
He inhaled and let the fresh scent of the new day replace the sigh he exhaled, "True, but to live is to never be at a standstill. Isn't that right, Lesser Lord Kusanali?"
She gazed at the birds that flew from a branch to the morning sky, "Yes. To live is to move forward until we have traveled enough to weave a life made up of numerous moments tangled together."
#wherein the precious babies learn to move on#genshin impact#genshin#wanderer#nahida#genshin wanderer#genshin nahida#genshin fanfic#nahida genshin#fanfic#drabble#fic#hurt/comfort#moving on#grief#short fic#platonic#familial#poetry#nahida and scaramouche
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❀Lay In My Arms, I'll Comfort You❀
Comfort | Headcannons
Character(s): Scaramouche (soft scara is here for you <33)
.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜
Sypnosis: Your parents are currently fighting at home, so you walk over to your s/o's house in search of comfort. You just didn't want to be alone right now.
TW: mentions of fighting, possible toxic household. (Tell me if there's more)
.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜
Scaramouche:
You were at home studying. Today had already been a bad day, and the piles of homework you got didn't make it much better.
You felt very stressed. Today couldn't possibly get much worse?
But that was wrong. Very wrong.
You heard noises, so you got off your bed and walked towards the top of the stairs.
As you got closer, you already could tell what was happening. Your parents were fighting.
This wasn't an everyday thing, but it did happen sometimes. And when it did, it usually got pretty bad.
Usually, you'd just put your headphones on to the loudest setting and try to ignore it. But today... You didn't want this, and your headphones were dead.
You still had so much studying to do as well.
So you ran back to your room and put everything you needed in your bag. Lucky for you, there was no school the next day.
After packing your essentials, you quickly got a piece of paper and scribbled a note, which read: "Hey, I'll be at a friend's house tonight! I'll be back tomorrow."
With the note in hand, you walked down the stairs and placed it on the kitchen counter.
You've never done this before, so you have no idea how your parents will react with they notice the note.
Afterwards, you grabbed your jacket and slipped it on over your clothes, then ran outside in the rain.
You're very lucky that your boyfriend lived just a block away.
The walk was about 10-15 minutes until you arrived.
The sound of the water droplets hitting the ground was much more comfortable then the sound of your parents arguing back and forth.
Finally arriving at the door, you knocked on it.
"Scara!" You hugged him right as the door in front of you opened. He didn't seem to expect your arrival, but after noticing your backpack, he urged you inside.
"What are you doing here? Do you understand how late it is? And it's raining outside too." He grabbed your hand and hurried you to the leather sofa in his living room.
He lived alone, both his parents were overseas at the moment, so it was just him. Which now, you couldn't be more thankful for.
"I'm sorry for not messaging you first... My parents are fighting and I don't want to be at home right now." You sit next to him on the sofa and fold your hands into your lap.
"Do your parents know that you're here?" He glances at you with a serious expression.
"I left them a note... But I didn't specify where I went." You look at the ground with a disheartened look. He was probably going to make you go back home. This was Scaramouche after all...
"Alright. Come on." He gets off the sofa and grabs your hand, then continues to pull you towards his room.
"Huh? You aren't going to make me go home...?" You followed him curiously, genuinely shocked that he didn't turn you away.
"Of course not. What kind of person do you think I am? I sound harsh sometimes, but that doesn't change the fact that I at least care about your well-being." Finally in his room, he drags you over to his bed.
Then, he sits on the edge and yanks your arm, bringing you closer to him.
"Hey." Scaramouche lays your head on his shoulder and wraps his arms around your waste. "If this ever happened again... You can tell me. I'm here." Leaving a soft peck on your forehead...
.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜
A/n: Sorry if this seems a bit rushed, I just wanted to write this! I hope everyone who finds themself in this situation finds a source of comfort. Take care of your mental health ^^ it's important!
.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜
-> Navigation | Masterlist | Requests: Open |
#scaramouche x reader#genshin impact#hurt comfort#scaramouche headcanons#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche x you#soft scaramouche#comfort#scaramouche fluff#fluff#kara fics ➹♡➷
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What Has Eight Tentacles and Isn't Allowed to Eat Pie?
What Has Eight Tentacles and Isn't Allowed to Eat Pie? by Annie D (@no-gorms)
Rating: teen
Word count: 16k
Dean watched an anime porn about this once, but real life turns out to be way less interesting.
Or, the one where Dean gets turned into an octopus.
For my first review with the Profound Bond group, I couldn’t help but pick an old favorite. If you haven’t read this sweet, funny, and surprisingly deep little fic, I can’t recommend it enough. Usually, my tastes run toward the profane and deviant, but I was delighted to find that the innocence of this story is a necessary part of its charm.
Castiel is shown at his kindest and most tender. He understands Dean without words or effort and soothes Dean’s discomfort however he can. Throughout the whole story, whether he’s letting Octo!Dean ride around on his head or preparing his gross raw food by hand. Castiel is quiet, determined, and a source of endless comfort. Because for once, Dean is is outsider, the alien. He is the one who can’t figure out how to express what he needs to say because the words don’t exist in Octopussian, much like they don’t for Cas in Enochian.
Castiel understands the pain of being the outsider, of never finding a place to land, so he gives Dean everything he himself needs. And in doing so, teaches Dean what it means to love someone so different from you, that you may not understand them, but that doesn’t make them any less precious or necessary.
Also, Dean gets to squirt Kevin with Octopus Ink, so there’s that.
#destiel#fic rec#canon verse#10k to 30k#animal transformation#bunker#soft!dean#creature!dean#spells#fluff#humor#hurt and comfort#human!castiel#teen and up#what has eight tentacles and isn't allowed to eat pie?#writer: annie d (scaramouche)#tentacle fic
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Mother
“The one thing the boy picks to call her, is everything she is not. In a single, painful word.”
Characters: Raiden Shogun, Scaramouche (Platonic, familial)
Genre: Hurt, angst with no comfort
Warnings: Parental neglect + spoilers for Inazuma Archon quest III (no references to anything past this)
Recommended: Listen to “Nightmare” while reading this!!
》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》
Nothingness
It is the plane of Euthymia. It is a place where nothing lives, nothing dies, nothing changes.
Stillness
It is the Tenshukaku. The fortress of Inazuma. The promise of stability in an epoch of an ever-rotating gyre.
Eternity
It is Her Majesty the Raiden Shogun. Forged from a single strike of lightning split into two. She is an immanent shadow; the past dissipating into her grand forms.
There is no feeling to a lack of time- her unmoving face has not encountered a disruption in many, many years. And there is no longer anyone to keep record of such things either. There is only a violet sky mired in an impenetrable and brilliant darkness, so striking that the heartbreak of a sister left behind is lost beneath static skies.
And to such a person, a child was born.
He is unlike her. For he is anything but nothing. The boy is constantly changing. One moment he babbles at the Shogun incoherently, and the next he is smiling with no reserve, taking the first trembling steps towards the woman he calls ‘mother’. The Raiden Shogun can take on the form of everything and anything in Inazuma- the rich waters of the islands, or the sakura petals drifting from Narukami. But the one thing the boy picks to call her, is everything she is not. In a single, painful word.
“Mother!”
The boy has changed again. It is too fast she thinks; his existence is too fleeting. His hair has grown longer, and with a toothless, asymmetrical smile, he giggles. Eternity flows seamlessly through his violent purple tresses, dripping off the locks as easily as water.
The Raiden Shogun is the epitome of Nothingness. Stillness. Eternity. Cumulatively, all at the same time. But the boy is a ripple in her motionless ocean. Drop by drop, the force of a feeling eliminated by eternity is returned by the water from the boy’s plum locks.
There should be no place for fear in eternity.
But that is what blossoms in Ei, when she gazes at the boy. And yet, he changes again, transient as everything she has ever lost. The boy is taller, and braids his hair. He trails behind the Shogun, animatedly chattering over anything and everything.
“Mother, why does the Sacred Sakura never lose its petals?”
The Shogun wants to speed her pace up
“Mother! Is it true that… there are such trees which produce melons? Can you eat such things?”
There was a mistake. This is an anomaly.
“Mother… mother..! Wait..!”
If Her Majesty turns around now, she will see the child’s eyes which glimmer with the hope of a small Naku Weed. It is the only thing that sets them apart, for he is her splitting image.
The child has no name other than a cruel label- the puppet he is to become. But when he stands for hours on end in wait behind the screen of her audience chamber (not knowing how easily visible his small figure is) the familiar feeling of fear plucks at her long unbeating heart.
It is then that Ei realises she cannot afford to let herself love him. She cannot let him become her. Not her child of burgeoning bright blue eyes. Her waking world, woven from the stuff of dreams. She forces her arms by her sides. She will not touch him, or embrace him. For the sooner she does, the day he lies lifeless in her arms encroaches. Like all those before him.
The next day, Kunikuzushi is called to the Shogun’s audience chamber. Her Majesty approaches, and before there is protest, violet locks fall to the ground with the shing of a blade. They are no longer the same. But for some reason, the light in his eyes harden to the same shade as his creator, and perhaps they were never more similar.
Now that the cord is cut, the Shogun finally grants the puppet his freedom, alongside his freedom from the only name ever given to him.
The Raiden Shogun watches the retreating figure from her lofty abode. And for some strange reason, for the first time, she feels the pain of a mother.
#genshin impact#genshin hcs#scaramouche#scaramouche story#raiden#raiden shogun#genshin angst#genshin hurt#genshin fics#gi#raiden hcs#ei hcs#scaramouche hcs#scaramouche headcanons#inazuma#inazuma archon quest#scaramouche angst#raiden angst#genshin fluff#genshin drabble#raiden drabble#ei drabble#scaramouche drabble#spray writes#scaramouche backstory#scaramouche hurt fic#genshin found family#genshin family#genshin family hcs
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Ignored until further notice- Scaramouche & Tartaglia
Summary: Set back during when Childe was a Fatui Recruit, in which he finds himself incredibly sick with the flu.
Most Fatui recruits joined fairly young at least among its human and beast-man members, either they were inducted in as kids or young teenagers. Some came from the orphanage belonging to the Harbinger Arlecchino, some signed up of their own accord, and finally some typically the more unruly children or teenagers were sighed up to the fatui by their parents.
A method of disciplining and ‘straightening them out’ so to speak. This reason was why Ajax at age 14 was enlisted by his father into the Fatui. And that was also why he was currently out in the middle of the snowy wilderness, with a bunch of other fatui recruits, soldiers, and two of the harbingers.
Two of the more, feared harbingers to be exact, Lord Scaramouche the 6th harbinger, and Lady La Signora the 8th harbinger. Both were rather fierce when it came to dealing with their subordinates, often dishing out punishment for the simplest of reasons.
Lord Scaramouche in particular was the worse among the two, often electrocuting subordinates to amuse himself or worst. He seemed to have complete and utter contempt for those beneath him and for those around him.
Out of the two, he was definitely the one, every recruit dreaded.
Sighing softly Ajax discreetly brings a hand to his stomach clutching at it when another cramp twisted at his stomach rather violently. A wave of nausea rolled over him and he swallowed thickly before taking a deep shuddering breath in.
To put it simply Ajax had awoken in the makeshift barracks for the recruits feeling like complete and utter absolute shit, a fever so hot raging through his body that it made the icy winds and snow of the snezhnayan wilderness feel incredibly refreshing, his stomach was in agony to put it simply as if it were being squeezed in a vice grip.
Even worse than the stomach ache, the way his head was pounding violently and the horrible fever was the nausea, however. The violent nausea churning in his stomach that he’d woken up to, that’d made him gag silently into his pillow this morning, although he’d brought up nothing but stringy salvia, his stomach being entirely empty since he’d only eaten a minuscule amount last night due to feeling queasy and off.
And yet with his joints aching and screaming at him, and his stomach in knots he’d gone to the make-shift mess hall tent and got something to eat, after all, he knew he had a rather long day of training and hard work ahead of him not to mention depending on which harbinger of the two harbingers he was assigned to today, he may not get a chance to eat lunch later.
At the moment though he was definitely regretting it considering the meal sat in his stomach like a heavy rock, weighing it down and simply making it ache worse.
Ajax muffled a hiccup into his hand when it bubbled up his throat, it brings with it the faint taste of old greasy meat and salt which makes him shudder as he clutched at his stomach absentmindedly at this point, his gaze down the ground as the two Harbingers gave orders.
“Wish I had been assigned to Lord Capitano…” Ajax whispered under his breath his fever-fueled haze blanketing his mind, making it wander.
Ajax’s grip on his stomach tightened a bit when it gave a low sickly growl beneath his fingers and he swallowed thickly.
It was a strange feeling honestly the way his stomach seemed to shift beneath his fingers, it wasn’t painful but definitely a bit disorienting.
He discreetly muffles a soft yet distinctly nauseated-sounding hiccup into his hand as he closes his eyes for a moment taking a few deep breaths in.
Ajax simply needed to hold it together until his shift was over and his work was done. He could do this, he’d faced greater challenges before.
~~~
Perhaps Ajax had angered her majesty in some fashion, he didn’t know what specifically he could have done but it must’ve been something egregious for him to be assigned under the 6th Harbinger of all people.
Ajax pauses for a moment in the middle of his task, he’s not the only recruit working at the moment in the area, others mill around him, moving the materials here and there not wanting to be on the receiving end of Scaramouche’s wrath.
Ajax closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hand hovering discreetly over his stomach for a moment. A slight grimace tugging at his lips his stomach makes a low, gurgling noise and twists with a harsh cramp sending a deep ache darting against the surface of his stomach.
His stomach felt as if it were tying itself in a knot, churning violently as waves of intense nausea washed over him. He felt as if he were melting into a puddle, the icy winds of Snezhnaya doing little to nothing against the harsh fever raging through his body.
Opening his eyes Ajax sighed softly, he couldn’t really ignore it any longer, no matter how much he wanted to. He was sick and it was beginning to impede his ability to do his duties, that fact truthfully tasted more bitter than the bile bubbling at the back of his throat.
Ajax turns around and begins making his way to Scaramouche’s tent, he knows his chance of Scaramouche of all people letting him rest was next to none. Hell, the 6th harbinger was more likely to simply kill him where he stood for disturbing him.
Still, Ajax takes a deep breath as he approaches the familiar figure in front of the large rather luxurious tent. He didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, nervousness, or whatever he was sick with that had his hands trembling.
“Lord Balladeer-“ Ajax began doing his best to keep his voice steady.
“What,” Scaramouche’s words are as curt as usual, not even sparing Ajax a glance. Truthfully this does not make Ajax feel as if the task is less daunting even though it wasn’t an unexpected reaction from Scaramouche.
“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you but I was wondering if you would allow me to rest? I feel really sick,” Ajax asked, his gaze on the ground. There’s a desperate, almost slightly pleading edge to his voice that Ajax dislikes, however, he can do little about it.
Especially when he feels his stomach suddenly slosh, causing him to swallow thickly in an effort to clear the near river of saliva building up in his mouth.
At Ajax’s words, Scaramouche raises his head, glaring at the boy with narrow eyes. “You what brat?”
Ajax pauses for a moment, a slight grimace tugging on his features. And now that Scaramouche is actually looking at him, he’d admit that the boy looked incredibly pale.
While Scaramouche didn’t care to learn the faces and names of his subordinates more often than not but this recruit he remembered specifically because not only was he a handful to deal with often fighting with other recruits in droves, but also because of his nearly lifeless dark blue eyes which didn’t seem possible for a human to have honestly.
At the moment though those eyes were glassy, as if the boy was on the verge of tears. Something feels strangely off to Scaramouche as he stares at the boy for a moment but honestly, he could care less.
“I…I feel really sick. My stomach hurts so I was wondering if you would please let me rest Lord Balladeer,” Ajax eventually managed to say.
At his words Scaramouche rolled his eyes, honestly, he should probably be impressed by Ajax’s sheer shameless audacity. But he knows it’s more than likely stupidity than anything.
“Get back to work before I throw you off the nearest cliff,” Scaramouche told him, his usual piercing glare still in place.
Scaramouche expects him to continue to badger him at that moment, after all, he’d heard word of just how annoying this specific recruit could be but instead, the boy goes silent.
A moment later he speaks, his voice is quiet, muted even. “Right. Yes Lord Harbinger.”
With that matter seemingly solved, Scaramouche's attention turns to the other subordinates who are still doing their tasks.
Scaramouche is not expecting the boy to come back two more times each about fifteen minutes later.
The second time he had returned his hand clutching at his stomach like an open wound, his voice raspy as he once again asked Scaramouche if he could take a moment to rest because he felt sick, and his stomach was hurting.
This time Scaramouche simply ignored him, not even bothering to waste his breath. Although for some strange reason he finds himself feeling strangely unsettled when he watched the boy stagger away.
It shouldn’t have made him feel anything truthfully besides maybe some relief that the boy seemed to be finally getting it through his thick skull.
That is until the boy comes back once more, his eyes seemed glassy and unfocused and his breathing harsh and shuddering as he speaks. “L-Lord Harbinger I-I-“ he begins.
Scaramouche cuts him off when he fires a bolt of electro at his feet, and Ajax stumbled back on unsteady feet.
Scaramouche does look at him this time, and the sheer fury in his eyes lets Ajax know that he’s poked the bear one too many times.
And when Scaramouche speaks the words “Come here” his tone is as commanding as usual Ajax can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling dread settle in the pit of his stomach or sheer nausea.
He follows Scaramouche as quickly as he can, his legs trembling not from fear by from the dizziness making his head spin and his stomach.
Ajax’s breaths shudder in his chest, each one making the back of his throat spasm slightly as it threatened to make him gag.
His thoughts are fuzzy, slipping between his fingers before they can fully form.
The normally cold winds of Snezhnaya, so harsh that they felt as if they would rub a person’s skin raw, do nothing to break through the heat boiling in his body.
Ajax’s hand clutches tightly at his stomach when a cramp twists at it, causing a harsh, deep ache to erupt along the surface of his stomach before quickly spreading outward.
He can’t help but curl in on himself slightly as he walks, it felt as if someone had his stomach in a vice grip.
Ajax is a very resilient person, some out of choice most out of necessity but he truly doesn’t know how much more he can take.
Darkness creeps on the edges of his vision as he stumbles to a stop, he can hear Scaramouche saying something no doubt either instructions or simply degrading him.
But none of it makes its way through to Ajax, sounding like little more than muffled rambling as if coming to him from underwater.
Another cramp twists at his stomach, the relentless waves of nausea that had been torturing him this entire time suddenly spiking. A low nauseated hiccup pries itself from his lips, bringing with it the faint taste of grease and fish.
Ajax can’t stop the low weak groan that leaves his mouth as he swallowed thickly, the saliva that’s now rapidly flooding his mouth makes him feel as if his throat is sticking together.
Feeling his stomach gurgle harshly beneath his hand, Ajax stopped walking, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as the back of his throat spasms and he gags weakly tasting bile bubbling at the back of his throat, hot and disgustingly bitter.
He glances up, narrowing his eyes as he attempts to focus his blurring vision. Ajax can just about make out Scaramouche’s figure quite a ways away from him, seemingly unaware that Ajax had stopped walking and was no longer following him.
A part of Ajax is grateful for that, it meant that he could slip away unnoticed. Maybe even collapse somewhere to rest for a bit, anything that would ease the fact that his body seemed out to destroy him.
His stomach feels as if it’s stuffed full of lead honestly, sloshing and swirling violently as Ajax began trudging away.
He doesn’t make it far, however, as his very next step has a wave of dizzying nausea washing over him, his stomach sloshing like an overfilled glass and he stumbles falling to his knees.
A harsh retch pries itself from his mouth, scraping across his throat as it brings a surge of hot, almost searing, watery vomit with it. The mess coats his hand in an instant, as it sprays between the cracks in his fingers splattering the ground before him.
A taste as rancidly sour as spoiled meat coats his tongue, combined with a sharp bitter almost chalky taste much like poison mixed with stale grease.
Ajax shakily lowered his soiled hand from his mouth, as he panted harshly, threads of drool dripping lazily from his lips onto the thick puddle of vomit that was sitting in the snow.
Heat prickles at his skin, followed by a chill as the darkness at the edges of his vision begins to grow and spread.
All at once, he feels as if he can’t draw in enough air, as if it evaporates before reaching his lungs.
A low weak groan leaves his mouth as he sways in place, his eyes fluttering and the strength bleeding from his limbs.
Ajax is unconscious before he falls to the ground.
It takes a moment or two for Scaramouche to realize that the boy was no longer behind him.
Irritation wells up inside of him as he quickly scans the area, eventually pausing when he catches sight of the familiar black and red garb belonging to Ajax’s Fatui recruit uniform, as well as that familiar orange hair.
With a huff Scaramouche makes his way to Ajax, muttering curses under his breath. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing brat.”
Strangely enough, though Ajax doesn’t respond, and as Scaramouche draws closer an insult ready on his tongue only to pause, a frown tugging at his lips when he sees Ajax collapsed in a heap in the snow, laying on his side and his face concealed.
The snow, a few inches away from him is strangely discolored, with a beige, light brownish tint to it.
“What in the…” Scaramouche muttered as he nudged the boy slightly with his shoe.
No response, Ajax simply lay there as if dead to the world.
“Didn’t you hear me? Get up,” Scaramouche snapped as he grabbed Ajax’s shoulder and rolled him onto his back.
Scaramouche froze once Ajax was laying on his back. The boy didn’t look good at all, his face was heavily flushed pink and lined with sweat despite the frigid cold air surrounding them.
His breathing was incredibly harsh, shuddering, and raspy, his eyes shut tight.
Scaramouche’s frown deepened in confusion, something was clearly wrong with Ajax but Scaramouche can’t ever recall seeing someone in a state like this.
He instinctively reaches out, cupping Ajax’s cheek, a small sharp hiss leaving his lips when he feels the heat practically rolling off of the boy’s cheek.
Humans weren’t supposed to be this hot were they? Not only that but the boy seemed to be in pain and struggling to breathe.
A weak, raspy whimper leaves Ajax’s mouth. It’s a pitiful sound much like one an injured or terrified animal may make.
Scaramouche’s frown deepened further in a mixture of concern and confusion rather than anger. For a moment he simply stares at Ajax.
Up close like this and in his current state Scaramouche could see just how young the boy was. Even by human standards, he was a helpless brat.
Scaramouche sighed as he drew his hand away from the boy’s cheek. He briefly looked up in the direction they’d come from before he returned his eyes to Ajax.
He didn’t know what exactly was wrong with Ajax but he would at least take him to the infirmary, telling himself that he was only doing it because he didn’t want to listen to Pullencia whine about the boy’s corpse not being able to be found and returned to his family.
As Scaramouche gathered Ajax into his arms, he does his best to ignore the lingering feeling of guilt that wells up inside of him. After all, if Ajax was actually feeling so bad he should’ve said something to Scaramouche.
The thing was Ajax had complained multiple times, even to the point of annoying Scaramouche. But that was genuinely all that it seemed like it was at the time, complaining.
“So fucking annoying,” Scaramouche huffed under his breath.
The listless form in his arms whimpers, shifting slightly as Ajax curls in on himself. Ajax’s hand is clutching weakly at his stomach as if trying to put pressure on a wound which points to that being a likely culprit for whatever was wrong with him. At least if Scaramouche had to guess.
~~~
The trek back to the main campsite is long and the one to the infirmary even longer.
The infirmary is empty oddly enough, not a soul insight. Then again most recruits hid injuries the best they could or at least tried to work despite the pain especially when Scaramouche and La Signora of all people were in charge. And many of the recruits preferred to simply rest in their barracks if they had the choice.
Scaramouche is hardly gentle as he places Ajax down on one of the cots, with the boy groaning as he’s laid down.
He’s shivering now as well, Scaramouche notices which made no sense to Scaramouche considering the heat rolling off Ajax’s skin, as well as the well-insulated coat he was wearing.
Honestly, it didn’t really matter, did it? He’d done his due diligence so he could just leave the boy here for whatever healer may come by to fix him.
For a moment though Scaramouche simply stares at the boy, a deep frown on his face. Something…he couldn’t shake the odd feeling that something was seriously wrong here.
Despite his body being so hot, the poor boy was shivering, soft noises of discomfort or pain leaving his mouth. Each breath he took was raspy and strained the noise wheezing in his chest.
His hand was still clutching at his stomach as well, his grip having tightened on it during the trip here.
His fingers were almost digging into the area, as if he were trying to rip the organ out through his clothing.
All of it was strangely unsettling to Scaramouche and he finds himself unable to really explain why.
As Ajax whimpers again Scaramouche finds himself reaching out, laying a hand on his cheek with a scowl. The brat really was helpless in every sense of the word.
However as Ajax begins to shift slightly in the cot, his eyes opening slightly, Scaramouche quickly draws back his eyes slightly wide.
Crossing his arms with a sigh, Scaramouche speaks. “What’s wrong with you?” His question is direct and asked more from curiosity than anything but he hopes that it’ll help ease the strange feeling of unease blanketing him.
Ajax’s eyes are glassy giving him a heavily dazed look as they rove around the infirmary slowly, seemingly not really registering anything.
Ajax feels absolutely horrible at the moment, everything is far too hot and bright, the world a blur of fuzzy swirling colors. The fog blanketing his mind is incredibly thick, barely allowing a coherent thought through. He does sense a presence with him, letting him know that someone is in the room with him.
But even between the fog, dizziness, and fever, one thing does manage to get through, the absolute dizzying nausea that’s making his stomach slosh violently.
The saliva flooding his mouth is impossible to get rid of. Each time he swallows, he can taste the bitter aftertaste of bile left over from his previous vomiting episode.
Scaramouche watches as the boy squeezes his eyes shut, and what little color he seems to have in his face slowly drains away leaving his complexion an almost sickly gray with a slight green tinge. Which doesn’t look good at all and perhaps if Scaramouche knew a bit more about humans he may have been able to determine exactly what was about to happen.
Eventually, Ajax does speak, his words slurred heavily with nausea. “Trashcan…I-I need-“ Ajax is cut off when a rather loud, wet, nauseated hiccup bubbles out of him jolting his body slightly.
“What,” Scaramouche asked, just able to make out Ajax’s mumbling.
A strange gurgling noise comes from deep within the boy’s throat sounding almost as if he were drowning. This time Ajax speaks his words are tinged with urgency and what sounds almost like panic.
“B-bucket….trashcan…I…” Ajax manages to say as the salvia flooding his mouth takes on a metallic taste. It becomes too much to swallow back, trickling from the corners of his mouth as a heavily slurred groan leaves his lips.
Ajax can hear whoever is in the room with him speak, the tone is what he recognizes more than the words. A familiar, demanding, curt tone that lets him know that the person in the room with him is Scaramouche.
It is just as he realizes this that his stomach makes a nearly downright sickening growling noise, practically rippling beneath his fingertips.
Ajax has just enough awareness to quickly lean over the edge of the cot as his stomach heaves violently. His breathing shudders, hitching as a surge of vomit suddenly gurgles up his throat.
In his disoriented and weakened state though he isn’t able to do much to stop it, much less aim where it’s going to go.
A guttural, strangled retch tears from Ajax’s lips, turning wet on the tail end as a large surge of semi-watery vomit spews from his mouth, splattering the floor of the infirmary with a sickening splash, sounding a lot like someone pouring a large bowl of water on the floor.
Ajax just about registers the strange noise Scaramouche makes, something that sounds like a mix between a loud hiss of disgust and a sound that a startled cat may make.
And he can’t tell if it’s the sheer shame and embarrassment he feels at the moment that’s making his face feel hot or the fever wreaking havoc on his body.
He doesn’t get much time to dwell on it however when his stomach lurches again, its contents sloshing and boiling inside of it desperately trying to claw their way out.
Scaramouche stumbles back away from Ajax with wide startled eyes, unsure of what exactly was happening.
Ajax is leaning over the edge of the bed, threads of discolored, cloudy drool drip from his lips into the large glistening soup-like puddle of vomit on the floor as he pants and gasps for air.
Ajax gagged harshly, the noise sounding so utterly horrible and violent that even Scaramouche couldn’t help but wince. A deep gurgling noise comes from the back of Ajax’s throat making him sound almost as if he’s drowning. His body lurches forward, a shuddering breath slipping from between his lips as a near river of drool pours in threads from his open mouth.
A loud, thick, wet, burp rumbles out of him, seemingly coming from somewhere deep within the boy’s chest, bringing with it another surge of semi-watery vomit gurgling up his throat, his cheeks briefly bulging out as they quickly filled up before overflowing. It was thicker this time with a consistency like oil paint as it poured from his mouth almost lazily.
Scaramouche may not have known much about humans but he was definitely sure that this shouldn’t be happening, from the looks of things not to mention the rancid sour smell like spoiled milk that filled the air at the moment Ajax’s organs were coming out of his mouth.
It was the only explanation that seemed to make sense honestly.
Ajax groaned loudly as he lay slumped there over the edge of the bed, thick threads of drool and bile dripping lazily from his lips and into the puddle of large vomit on the floor. He’s panting harshly, his glassy eyes fluttering as if he were fighting to stay awake.
“You-“ Scaramouche begins after a moment but flinches, cut off when Ajax’s body jerks with a harsh gag.
A smaller surge of watery vomit spraying from his mouth and adding to the sickening puddle in front of him, followed by a low wet exhale as he goes limp, panting harshly and his eyes half-lidded, a heavily dazed look on his face.
“Hey…what’s wrong with you,” Scaramouche asked as he glanced between the mess on the floor and Ajax, doing his best to ignore the rancid scent wafting through the air. It smelled like spoiled or rotting food, a scent even Scaramouche was familiar with.
Ajax doesn’t answer him as he simply lays there glassy eyes transfixed on the floor, threads of bile and drool dripping from his lips.
Scaramouche shifts for a moment gritting his teeth, seeing this boy, Ajax like this feels…wrong somehow. As if Scaramouche were seeing some abnormality. It’s unnerving.
Sighing loudly Scaramouche turns around and begins making his way to the front of the tent, for a moment he pauses though, the sound of Ajax’s weak raspy breathing practically scraping against his ear drums. “You’re so annoying,” Scaramouche huffed under his breath.
While Scaramouche wasn’t human and had never been so, there is someone he can technically go to at the moment who did have a somewhat decent grasp on humans to get answers. He hated having to do it though.
It was just so he didn’t need to listen to Pullencia’s whining, and Dottore’s complaining about losing an interesting test subject. That was all it was.
And that’s what he tells himself as he leaves the infirmary in search of La Signora.
~~~
He finds the woman in her usual spot as expected, in her tent luxurious but gaudy in his opinion, with a glass of wine in hand as she sat in a chair, her legs crossed and her other hand holding a few sheets of parchment she seemed to be looking through.
“Get out.” Those are the first words out of La Signora’s mouth when Scaramouche enters her tent, knowing that presence anywhere.
“There’s something wrong with one of them,” Scaramouche huffed as he approached her, she doesn’t spare him a glance nor does she stand up to greet him. Instead, she merely sips on her wine, her eyes on the parchment, and a scowl on her face.
“I fail to see how that’s my problem that you aren’t able to manage your recruits. If one of them is injured send them to the infirmary, if it's a fatal injury then dump their body in the pit and burn it,” Signora huffed, a spark of irritation welling up in her at the fact that she had to explain this at all. Especially when she was trying to relax and enjoy herself.
An irritated sigh comes from the man in front of her, and he clicks his tongue. “No something else, its organs were coming out of its mouth. Smelled absolutely horrific. It's that brat Dottore’s been testing on, orange hair, blue eyes, stubborn, loud mouth.”
His words do have her looking up this time, a scowl on her face, she knows what recruit Scaramouche was talking about. More so because of how much of a handful he was, he had the same respect that most subordinates did for the Harbingers but that didn’t stop the boy from pushing his luck on numerous occasions.
Dottore seemed to take an interest in the boy as a research subject, Scaramouche had seen him multiple times in Dottore’s lab in fact, although he wouldn’t tell anyone why he was using the boy as a test subject or why he’d taken an interest in him specifically beside saying there were some interesting abnormalities he had. Especially for a human.
“Organs coming out of his mouth…” Signora echoed trying to piece together what Scaramouche was talking about.
Scaramouche nodded, a deep frown on his face. “His skin was hot too, it didn't feel right for a human at least.”
That’s when it clicks for La Signora what exactly Scaramouche was talking about. She sighed loudly before going silent for a few moments which caused Scaramouche to look at her, only to see the woman looking at him with narrow eyes as if he were the world’s largest fool.
“What,” he huffed with a scowl.
She sighed again, before clicking her tongue and tossing the paperwork she’d been holding onto the nearby table. If the situation hadn’t been so irritating she may have laughed.
While she doesn’t want to tell Scaramouche what is wrong with the boy finding his ignorance rather funny, she can practically feel her ears ringing when Dottore finds out that his valuable test subject had been lost.
“He’s sick you imbecile, heal him. It won’t fix everything but it will help,” she told him after a moment, her tone curt.
Scaramouche scowled. “Sick,” he echoed, confusion clear in his voice, ignoring La Signora’s insult.
In the past he’d heard of humans falling ill but merely in passing, never wanting to stay around long enough to see how it truly affected them.
Another sigh, Signora rolled her eyes, muttering a curse under her breath. “Yes, sick. Humans are very fragile, sometimes, something such as simply not getting enough rest will result in them becoming ill. Some are more resilient than others, however.”
There’s no contempt or irritation in Signora’s words as she speaks, her words are a matter of fact as if speaking of something she’s seen before. Which wouldn’t surprise Scaramouche if true, after all, she was human at one point.
“How do I make him stop being like that, it’s annoying and I’d rather not listen to Dottore’s whining,” Scaramouche huffed, crossing his arms as he looked away.
He knew humans were fragile, that they broke easily and it didn’t take much to stop them for good. But he’d be lying if he said he fully understood the other nuances and trials that came with being human. And even then his desire to learn had long since been snuffed out.
“For now simply heal him, tell one of the subordinates to give him medicine and keep his fever down if he has one,” she sighed after a moment.
With that matter seemingly solved she gathers the paperwork in her hand once more, only to stop when she realizes Scaramouche is still standing there in silence.
She looks at him once again, noticing a strange expression on the man’s face that she’s never really seen before, it almost looked like an expression of apprehension. It takes her a moment to realize why as well.
“You’ve never used your powers to heal anyone, have you,” she said and her tone has those glowing indigo eyes glaring at her in an instant.
That telling glare is all the answer she needs and she chuckles. Although that chuckle is followed by a sigh when she realizes something.
That she was going to have to take care of this, lest she listen to Dottore complain for months on end and possibly be on the receiving end of his more extensive checkups.
Another loud sigh leaves her mouth as she drains her wine glass in one go before setting it aside on the table. “Honestly must I do everything,” she muttered under her breath followed by a curse.
The look of confusion on Scaramouche’s face has her rolling her eyes. “Well hurry it up you fool, take me to him.”
~~~
The walk back to the infirmary tent is strangely quiet, and Scaramouche can’t help but regret his decision to get Signora in the first place.
Even more so when Signora and him enter the infirmary tent. It’s still just as empty as before, and Ajax is exactly where Scaramouche left him as well, dangling limply halfway off of the bed, a large puddle of his own vomit semi-congealed on the floor in front of him.
The boy’s raspy labored breathing sounds far too loud in the tent at the moment, especially when Scaramouche sees Signora’s face wrinkle in clear disgust.
While it is about as horrific as Signora expected, that still doesn’t stop the feeling of disgust that settles over her at the rancid scent of vomit in the air, not to mention the disgustingly large puddle of it on the ground.
“Well at least he’s not choking on his own vomit,” she huffed as she stared at Ajax with narrow eyes. She moves closer before stopping and turning to look at Scaramouche who stood a little ways behind her. “How long has he been like this? Honestly, he shouldn’t have had a shift in the first place in his state, it’s surprising he even woke up this morning.”
The boy’s breathing sounded horrible, clearly strained and labored. A sure sign that this wasn’t an illness that came on suddenly.
Scaramouche sighed shaking his head slightly as he shifted in place for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest as he scowled at Signora. “He was whining earlier, but if he was in such a horrible condition he should’ve said something. It’s not like he didn’t have the chance,” Scaramouche huffed.
Near silence fills the tent as La Signora looks at Scaramouche for a moment, her raised eyebrows speaking volumes.
Then she sighed, shaking her head. “For the love of…” she muttered.
“What,” Scaramouche snapped indignantly, his eyes narrowing at the disbelief in the woman’s tone.
Signora rolls her eyes as she moves closer to the boy, her nose wrinkling in disgust. She reaches out with one hand, grabbing him by the scruff of his coat and pulling him up before placing him on the cot on his side.
The boy giving a soft weak groan at the movement but not opening his eyes.
Signora scowled with a sigh. “His fever is dangerously high,” she murmured before turning to Scaramouche and crossing her arms. “Come here, and grab his hand. You’ll need to heal him, it won't fix everything but it’s better than nothing.”
~~~
Healing someone with his powers wasn’t something Scaramouche had ever done really, just because he had the ability to do it didn’t mean he had any use for it. And those times when he’d lived among humans far too long ago, he just didn’t use it as such it was a skill that had been pretty much neglected.
Scaramouche scowled as he gripped Ajax’s hand in his own, briefly scowling at just how much heat was rolling off the boy’s skin.
“Focus your elemental energy and do it carefully, he’s already sick we don’t need you electrocuting him,” Signora told him as she stared at the pair with her arms crossed over her chest.
Her words a curt, demanding almost an order, and Scaramouche can’t help but grit his teeth, even more so as he begins to follow her instructions.
Drawing his elemental energy to himself is rather easy and instantaneous, it buzzes gently just beneath his skin familiar. A gentle hum of electro.
Signora watches as a gentle hum of electro energy cloaks Scaramouhe’s hand as well as Ajax’s, at first it seems to be going well a bit of color returning to the boy’s face as his labored breathing quiets down ever so slightly.
Then the boy begins to whimper as the purple glow of electro surrounding his hand begins to suddenly grow brighter and brighter, as he begins writhing in bed an obvious sign that he was in pain.
“Stop it,” Signora ordered.
And Scaramouche jumped slightly at her outburst instantly detaching his hand from Ajax’s, his electro energy drawing back. For a few moments, Ajax continues to whimper softly his face twisted into a grimace.
Sighing loudly Signora narrows her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “I told you to be careful,” she said her tone clearly showing her irritation and exasperation.
Scaramouche clicks his tongue. “It’s not my fault that he’s weak,” he huffed as he glared at Ajax. It was all so irritating honestly, not only Ajax’s presence and this whole entire situation at the moment. But most of all the uncomfortable feeling writhing in Scaramouche’s chest.
And yet he finds himself reaching out again, grabbing hold of Ajax’s hand as he begins the attempt to him once more.
~~~
Ajax has no idea what’s going on when he stirs from sleep at first, everything is far too hot in fact to the point that he feels as if he may be melting into a puddle.
The world is a hazy smear of colors swimming before his eyes, and yet even through that, he can make out two familiar violet eyes amongst the swirling colors.
“You should’ve said something, idiot,” he hears a familiar voice huff softly and it takes him merely a moment to realize it’s Scaramouche.
“I…told you…I was feeling sick,” Ajax suddenly whispered and Scaramouche freezes having been in the middle of tossing an extra blanket over the boy.
He’d been moved to the infirmary’s quarantine wing after he’d been healed slightly and tended to by Scaramouche under La Signora’s watchful gaze. At the moment though it was late at night with everyone having gotten drunk by the fire or returned to their barracks.
As such Scaramouche had decided to return to the infirmary, telling himself it was simply to see if Ajax had actually croaked or something rather than to ease that strange discomfort writhing in his chest.
He’d found the boy curled up beneath the blanket in a ball shivering, the medicine he’d been given that had lowered his fever slightly earlier having clearly worn off if his labored breathing was anything to go off of.
So Scaramouche had grabbed an extra blanket, after all the last thing he needed was the boy freezing to death after Scaramouche had gone through so much trouble at this point.
At Ajax’s words, Scaramouche sighed, rolling his eyes. “Be quiet brat, just got to sleep, or do you want me to fry you.”
Ajax frowned slightly but closed his eyes, honestly, he expects Scaramouche to leave. Out of all the harbingers, Scaramouche could be one of the harshest towards his subordinates, so Ajax can’t help but be surprised when he doesn’t feel Scaramouche’s presence disappear.
“L…Lord Balladeer…” Ajax began slowly after a moment or two, he goes to open his eyes but freezes when he feels Scaramouche place a gentle hand over his eyes, covering them.
“Stop being nosy and sleep. At least follow this order idiot,” Scaramouche told him and Ajax doesn’t know if its the fever or he’s imagining things but Scaramouche’s voice almost seems softer than usual.
Less demanding, still rough around the edges of course but as harsh and cold.
Ajax nodded slightly as he closed his eyes again, and it isn’t long before he drifts off to sleep.
#emetophilia#emeto fic#Genshin emeto#sickfic#genshin sickfic#hurt/comfort#My writing#fainting#anime whump#male whump#Young Fatui Recruit Childe#Back when he was called Ajax#La Signora is here too because Scaramouche has no clue how humans work#tartagalia genshin impact#scaramouche genshin impact#la signora genshin impact
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tbh i think canon scaramouche is absolutely the kind of guy that would have so much trauma during sex. I feel like if someone were to fuck him he'd constantly be battling accepting the pleasure and thinking the other person is just using him to get what they want. I think it would reflect in his actions during it too, he'd probably be more of a pillow princess, waiting for the point when the other person would just start using him for their own pleasure or start commanding him to do stufff. Bro is so traumatized, he absolutely would get off to the idea of someone loving him and wanting him but in practice he would find any way to deny it
#i feel like this dynamic would be so apparent with lumine#idk might write a 15k scara hurt fic who knows#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#genshin
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hi guys I wrote a little wanderer reconnecting with his mom hurt/comfort fic with not a lot of context and probably several plot fallacies + my own headcanons it’s below enjoy
characters: Wanderer, Raiden Shogun, Ei, Yae Miko, Aether, Paimon
categories: angst, hurt/comfort, family reconnecting???
title: Bated Breath
author: me, Pierre Scenearcee
How he had even gotten involved in this, he didn’t know, but here he was- facing the Raiden Shogun for the first time in 500 years.
And yet, her eyes lacked the spark of recognition.
Walking alongside his companion Aether, who is glancing at him with concern, he keeps his eyes pointed at the floor. The last time he set foot on these sullen floors, his name was Kunikuzushi, and his life had barely begun. Today, his name is Volt, and the world has all but forgotten his existence, the mark he left on Teyvat as a whole.
Aether had asked for Volt’s help looking for something in Inazuma, and being a scholar from there, he found it to be a simple and painless task. But things took a turn for the serious, and reinforcements on Serai Island were necessary. There was nobody to turn to, nobody but the Shogun herself.
Sitting there, ever so refined and regal, one leg crossed over the other on her swing. Standing next to her is her familiar, kne pink haired woman with her back turned to all else in the room. A kitsune youkai, and grand maiden of the Narukami shrine. Eyes that used to pierce the one named Kunikuzushi, empty of all familiarity as they catch wind of Volt.
He clenches his fist and bows before the women before him. Women he’d respected as his mothers, centuries ago, now just the governing powers of a country that forgot his existence. The ball joints in his fingers clack together as he unballs his fists, returning to a regular standing posture. All the words exchanged between Aether and these matriarchs suddenly began to take form… these words that felt painfully empty and silent.
“…and we need backup. Lives are at stake, the infestation is getting out of hand, and this isn’t something we can handle alone!”
“Indeed, this situation appears to be dire…”
“I wonder why you bring this young gentleman with you… what a curious character, don’t you agree? Ei?”
Aether and Paimon glance at each other, turning their gaze to Volt briefly, before returning their attention to the Shogun. “This is a friend of ours, a Sumeru scholar originally from Inazuma. He was showing us around the area, and noticed the infestation.”
Yae Miko turns around, taking a few steps towards Volt, who is staring forward blankly. Something sparks in her eyes, tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think an introduction from the young gentleman himself will suffice, no?”
He speaks without lifting his head. “My name is-“
“Lift your head. Let me see your eyes when you speak to me.”
His eyes meet hers, watching the expression on her face become more dubious. “…My name is Volt. I’m a scholar studying in Sumeru, under the guidance of the god of wisdom.”
The Shogun’s attention is caught, much to Aether and Paimon’s dismay. “Step forward, Volt. Miko, return; ask your questions from your post.” Her stern tone of voice reeks of authority, and Volt wouldn’t dare to oppose that command, taking steps to the center of the room; in front of his comrades. “You may continue.”
“Ah dear friend, thank you… where were we? Ah yes, an explanation if what you do is unnecessary, however I am awfully curious where you’re from. Tell me, where in Inazuma were you born and raised?”
“… Watatsumi-“
“Lying won’t do you any good, Volt. If that is your real name, in any case.” Yae’s suspicions are confusing the Shogun, bringing her to ask a question of her own.
“Who are you, really? I cannot help but sense… that you are familiar.”
“WAIT! It doesn’t matter who he is, we have an urgent situation to deal with!” Paimon shouts.
With bated breath, the electro archon speaks. “…Miko, escort the Traveler and Paimon out. Tell Kujou Sara to send a battalion to Serai Island, following the guidance of these two. Leave me and this… stranger… alone here.” Yae Miko opens her mouth to speak, but is harshly cut off. “Your sarcasm is not needed for this private, personal matter.”
Volt can’t take his eyes off of the Shogun, even as Yae Miko and his companions brush by hesitantly. His gaze is locked with hers, and silence hangs in the air for an eternity after the door seals itself shut. She steps off of her swing, striding down the set of stairs between herself and Volt. Her expression softens with each footfall. Before long, she’s within a few feet of Volt, who suddenly backs away violently. Motion falls flat, and the silence is sliced open with a tense blade.
“Are you challenging me, almighty Raiden Shogun?” Not knowing what else to say, hiding the cracking porcelain beneath his clothes.
“… Not at all, unless that is what it takes to learn your identity. Are you challenging me, familiar stranger?”
“… No.”
The sparks in her eyes glow brighter, her expression continues to lose weight- and then, a single tear pricks her cheek.
With bated breath, she asks.
“…Kunikuzushi, is that you?”
A large crack manifests itself on Volt’s face, and a tear follows the path of shattered porcelain. His eyes widen, how was he supposed to expect this would happen? Ei steps forward, tears streaming down her cheeks, and he doesn’t back away. Brushing away his tears with her thumbs, she cups his face in her hands.
“… My boy… my lovely son…” Familiarity and love blend in a painful bolt through her gaze, piercing Volt’s soul through his own leaking gaze. “Oh dear… why couldn’t I tell? What’s wrong with me, a Mother who can’t recognize her own son?”
“I tried to erase myself from this world, almighty Shogun… defeating the power of the Ley Lines must be easy for one such as yourself.”
She takes a sharp breath in, locking eyes with her son. “Why the formality, Kunikuzushi? What fostered this distance between us?”
A shuddering breath pulls through Volt’s lips, pushing more tears from his eyes. “… there’s a lot that you still don’t know… like how you hurt me.” He pulls away from her, turning away loathingly. “You were my whole world, but when I wasn’t enough for your purposes, you abandoned me. Tossed me aside, discarded me as if I were a broken toy, an old tool.”
The sting of shock paints Ei’s face as he turns around, more cracks appearing on his body.
“Starting with yours, a series of betrayals led me to become a spiteful creature, nearly ascending to godhood, with your gnosis. Don’t cry to me, I’m nothing more than a prototype vessel to you.”
“Kunikuzushi… no, Kunikuzushi, that was never my intention my dear…” her breath is unstable and shaky. “I… I was setting you free… free from a life full of danger and misery, the likes of which I knew you couldn’t…. oh no, Kunikuzushi…”
The unthinkable happens, and a crack forms in the skin of the seemingly perfect Raiden Shogun. The vessel inhabited by Ei, a flawless puppet, programmed to perfection- cracking.
“… what the hell are you saying?”
“My dear… I had no idea that I had hurt you so much. I saw early on, how similar you were to my dearly departed sister. I had used her essence to create you… after all. Miko suggested scrapping you, starting anew with the parts left behind… but how could I do such a cruel thing to what remained of my sister?” Tears stream down her cheeks, chased by bolts of misunderstanding. “You were such a beautiful, gentle soul. I wanted a better life for you, I wanted to free you of the responsibility it takes. Kunikuzushi, I didn’t know that you would be so badly hurt. You are, very, VERY, dear to me…”
His eyes meet that of his mother’s again, a shared pain soaking their locked gaze.
“… what?”
She chuckles tearfully. “I remember the day I first gave you a sword, watching you stumble about with a blade bigger than you were. Your eyes were so full of wonder, of life… as I continued mentoring you, it became more obvious how loving you were, and to force you to carry my blade… would be cruel. Such a kind spirit, such a full heart.”
“For so long, I searched for a heart, searched for something to show me that I do have a heart. All because I had to prove I was human enough, human enough to live amongst them, to find the family that I lost. What you did made me feel worthless, because I couldn’t be what I was made for. How was I supposed to know you did this because you wanted to protect me?!” Rage burns in his throat. Yet, as gently as a breeze after a storm, Ei sweeps forwards and embraces Volt, pressing his ear to her chest- her heartbeat resounding in his mind.
“My dear… you had a heart all along, always. You got your heart from me, and from your dearly departed Aunt Makoto. You weren’t cut out to be my vessel, and that is for the better. Raising you was the most enlightening experience I’d ever had, my darling boy.”
Gold fills in the cracks across both their bodies, slowly seeping through their wounds like blood and pus. Solidifying with exposure to air, binding these scars shut. Before long, Volt finds his arms wrapping around Ei. She squeezes him, her heart directly connecting to his. Tears fall from her eyes, tears of pure love and naught much else.
“Volt… my son. You will always, ALWAYS, have a home with me. Whatever I must do to atone… I will follow you into hell and back. Anything to see the precious heart you were before, when the world had not scarred you with betrayal. To learn who you are… my precious son.”
“… Always?”
“…Always.”
#genshin wanderer#genshin ei#scaramouche#raiden shogun#eimiko#kunikuzushi#genshin impact#genshin fic#genshin fanfic#methinks i should take my meds#they hurt me#kintsugi#i headcanon that their bodies are like porcelain ball jointed dolls#and under intense emotional stress they form cracks#and those cracks heal with gold
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Bits and Pieces ( by Nexus_NoiR )
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Tighnari/Scaramouche
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Words: 2,584
Additional tags:
Puppet Gore | Post Inversion of Genesis | Post Tighnari's story quest | Hurt/Comfort | Praise Kink | Psychological Trauma | Scaramouche is Called Scara | Scaramouche is something between mechanical and organic | Scaramouche can feel pain | Eye Trauma | Amputation | Drugs | No Porn | Dottore is mentioned prominently but does not have a speaking role | Past abusive Dottoscara
Summary:
In the aftermath of a horrible event, Scara is left battered and broken beyond belief. Aether's only choice was to bring him to Tighnari to hopefully try and repair him. Scara, used to having his pain disregarded and thus expecting a horrible experience, is surprised to discover that the forest watcher is much kinder to him than the Doctor ever was.
#genshin impact#tighscara#scaranari#scaramouche#tighnari#il dottore#tighnari/scaramouche#tighnari x scaramouche#hurt/comfort#fic#my work
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#this is based on a fic I'm working on. These two fuckers have a relationship so toxic it hurts but I eat it up#whatever the fuck they have going on is awful and writing it is a delight#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact fanart#wanderer#scaramouche#dottore#wanderer fanart#scaramouche fanart#dottore fanart#dottoscara#dottore x scaramouche#toxic relationship#illustration#digital painting
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Il Dottore & Scaramouche (Genshin Impact), Scaramouche & Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact)
Characters: Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact), Scaramouche (Genshin Impact), Il Dottore (Genshin Impact)
Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Torture, Angst
Series: Part 4 of Genshin Impact
Summary:
Well, Ajax thought, stomach still turning, he knew the truth now. It wasn’t just maintenance. If only, Ajax thought to himself, turning back around slowly to look at the dimly lit photos on Dottore’s desk.
#genshin impact#genshin impact fic#tartaglia#genshin tartaglia#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche#genshin fanfic#how many things can I tag this with#I just want people to see it#I know not many people will bc I didn't tag any ships#but like pls read this is makes me happy#it's pure angst and made my heart rate spike while writing it but I love it#blease#I enjoy theorizing about the shit dottore does to his experiment subjects#especially scara like if he even ever experimented on him#the soil of the idea is rich for the angst#anyway pls read this and tell me what you think it makes me happy when my writing hurts people :)
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Nahida and Wanderer [platonic] | Prompt: Let Me Help
"You're hurt. Let me help you." The dendro archon kneeled beside the hunched over man sitting on the log with his hand stemming the trickle of purple blood from the gash on his left side.
"Don't." A faint whisper; a swirl of emotions in indigo eyes dissipating with a shake of a head, "Why do you even care about me? I'm just your prisoner, your errand runner, your--"
"My friend."
Words died on his mouth.
Nahida's gaze captured his and gripped it tightly so that he could not run away like he always did, "You are my friend." A warm voice accompanied the gentle touch on a trembling hand, "So please, let me help you."
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin wanderer#wanderer#nahida#genshin nahida#the wanderer#nahida genshin#genshin fanfic#fanfic#drabble#prompt fic#whump#hurt/comfort#nahida and scaramouche
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My first sarascara fic!
Summary:
After she drank, she gave back the cup to him and, obscured by the shadows, studied his expression. A slight furrow of eyebrows, fidgeting hands, and a softened gaze filled with worry. He is scared. The Wanderer is scared.
"Are you scared?” She asked him, her voice still rough and coarse. The following silence was the only answer she needed.
-x-
Sara and the wanderer were tracking through the Sumeru forest, during which Sara got sick. What follows are some introspections and sweet talks. And Sara getting taken care of, which she deserves.
Ship: Kujou Sara/Scaramouche
Language: English
Chapters: 1/?
Words: 4.4k
#kujou sara x scaramouche#character study#genshin impact#kujou sara#scaramouche#existentialism#sickfic#absurdism themes#the wanderer#hurt/comfort#fluff#my first fic#imaginary character development#kujou sara deserves to be loved#scaramouche deserves comfort
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