Inazuma’s Archon Can Finally Enjoy The World

inazuma’s archon can finally enjoy the world

The Ruthless Prince: Illustrated on Paperback book (Giveaway!)

Hello everyone! After hundreds of hurdles and an infinite amount of time I’m finally able to publish The Ruthless Prince on Amazon!

I know this may seem like I’m gunning for money, but please don’t misunderstand, this is just something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, print my own book! (Also the whole story is still available on tumblr FOR FREE, it’s your own choice whether or not to support me by buying the paperback/ebook version)

I’m well aware that this is fanfiction, so before anyone goes ahead and messages me that I’m not allowed to sell fanmade items, Mihoyo very much allows the sale of fanmade items, all you have to do is send in an application!

Nevertheless, original story, fanfiction, whatever it may be…I believe that this is still a work of art. I’m just glad that I was able to see it through.

On to the good stuff!

The whole story is still available on tumblr but the paperback/ebook edition has some extras, mainly:

1. Two extra chapters

2. There are 6 coloured illustrations included.

GIVEAWAY TIME! (under the cut)

Keep reading

746 notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

You’re a healer in the Fatui, assigned to serve the Harbingers in Sneznhaya. This is a bit self indulgent but I promise I did my best to keep him in character! I enjoy Harbinger Scaramouche, so this is set before he went all AWOL xD reader is female. If you have requests for me I’d love that!

“Here you go,” said the eleventh harbinger with a friendly grin. “Your very own office.” He opened the door for you and you followed him inside. You set your things on the mahogany desk in the corner and turned back around to face him.

“Thank you, lord Tartaglia,” you said, bowing your head.

He laughed. “Call me Childe,” he said, waving lazily as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

You looked around the spacious office—your spacious office. You’d been promoted as a healer for the Harbingers recently, and today was the day of your transfer. You looked in the cabinets to find supplies of various kinds. From splints to bandages, sutures, and medicine.

After inspecting the contents of the cabinets, you wandered to your desk and sat down, opening a drawer. Inside, there was a notebook detailing every Harbinger and you read through every file carefully, determined to commit everything to memory. You learned that currently there were only 3 harbingers on active duty. Number 8, lady Signora, number 6, lord Scaramouche and number 11, Childe.

It was your third day on duty when number 6 walked into your office. You stood quickly to greet him. “Lord Scaramouche,” you said, looking at him. He was even more striking than his picture, but at the moment, he was disheveled and injured.

He didn’t acknowledge your greeting, merely eyeing you with fierce, violet eyes. You approached him, hands out and open. He had a nasty cut across his face that made you hiss softly in sympathy, and several cuts all along his arms. Your eyes assess him quickly, then you speak again. “Lord Scaramouche, may I remove this, to assess any injuries I can’t currently see?” You tug gently at his shirt.

He nods sharply, slowly raising his arms like it pained him to do so. You lift his shirt slowly, trying hard not to scrape it over any of the injuries on his arms. You gasp at the wound on his side, your hands immediately going to work. Without warning him, your icy hand touches his wound, enveloped with your cryo power and he hisses loudly.

“I’m sorry, my lord!” you say, touching his arm, trying to comfort him with your other hand. This wound takes the longest, but as the bleeding stops and the skin beneath your hand becomes whole once more, his breathing becomes more normal.

“My lord, what happened..?” you ask softly, your eyes meeting his.

There’s suddenly static in the air around you, and his violet eyes flash. “I don’t recall being required to answer to the help,” he snaps.

Your face fell. “Of course, I forget my place,” you said. You try to hurry now, not wanting to irritate him further. You finally finish the injuries on his arms, and move to the one on his face, still fresh and bleeding. His gaze meets yours and you break eye contact quickly, your heart pounding as you focus on trying to heal his face as quickly as you can. You’re so, so stupid! You scold yourself.

Your hand is so gentle against him, and he watches you intently, almost evaluating your worth. You can feel his judgement and you silently pray for his patience. “I’m sorry,” you say, “for taking so long. I just don’t want any of these to scar…”

He raises an eyebrow at you. Why would you concern yourself at all with scars? Your job was simply to make sure the harbingers’ injuries didn’t keep them out of the field.

You took a step back, bowing to him again. “You’re all done sir,” you say.

Scaramouche dresses and leaves without a word or even a glance in your direction.

***

“He hates me,” you mutter to Childe, your only friend in this whole place as you finish his healing session. You’d told him the story from the other day, leaving out confidential information about his condition, merely telling Childe how you’d openly disrespected The Balladeer.

Childe’s soft laughter rang in the air and you groaned. “I actually don’t think he does. If he didn’t threaten to snap your neck, I’d say he was just pissed from being in pain. He didn’t look good when he came back from his last mission.”

“So you saw him,” you said.

“Yeah. He looked like he’d been in quite the battle,” Childe said, still grinning. “But hey, I’d say you’re one hell of a healer. He didn’t fire you!”

“Is that why I was promoted?” You ask, your eyes wide.

“He’s fired the last three. I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to psych you out,” he said.

You punch his arm. “Thanks a lot!”

“Ow! Hey, okay, I’m sorry,” he said, and you glared at him. He didn’t look sorry at all. “Anyway, thank you,” he said sincerely.

You smiled fondly at your friend, hugging him. “Come back in one piece,” you murmur.

“I will,” he said, wrapping your small frame in a one armed hug. “See you when I get back.”

***

You sat at your desk, logging in information on your healing sessions with the harbingers, as well as the agents who had come to you for sessions.

You flipped to Signora’s file and you couldn’t help but make a face. She was so difficult and rude and you scowled, writing down the injuries she’d come to you with, disdain in her voice as she told you to hurry up, and how she didn’t have all day. She’d called you incompetent even and you’d had to bite your tongue to not tell her to fuck herself. You hated her.

Your door swung open, making you startle slightly. You looked up to see Scaramouche walking into your office, closing the door behind him. You flipped your log shut, standing immediately to greet him.

“Good afternoon, lord Scaramouche,” you say, bowing your head.

He eyes you, saying nothing before turning his back to you, revealing quite the gash behind his shoulder. You wince when you see it, murmuring to yourself that it looked painful. Your hands flickered with your Cryo power as you make your way over to him.

“Ready?” you ask, making sure to warn him this time.

“Go ahead,” he says gruffly.

Your hands bring immediate relief to the searing pain. Your fingers press tenderly onto his skin, sliding into his shirt through the hole over the injury. An audible sigh of relief escapes his lips as the wound closes.

Your hands leave him and then you speak softly. “Are there any more injuries I need to treat sir?”

He turns around to face you, his amethyst eyes meeting yours. You fought the urge to look away from him. Archons, he’s beautiful…

“That’s the only one,” he said, his voice inflectionless.

You nod, a small smile lifting the corners of your mouth. “You’re all set, then.”

He smirks. “At least those fools down at the recruiting office managed to send a proper healer this time.”

Your eyes widen in shock at his praise. You smile a little wider at him. “I’m pleased that you think so, lord Scaramouche,” you say. “I wish everyone did.”

“Who does not?” he asked, raising an elegant eyebrow.

“Lady Signora…” you say, picking at the hem of your shirt.

He snorts, the sound making your head snap back up to look at him. “She’s fucking useless. Stupid bitch couldn’t carry out her last mission without nearly getting our whole embassy kicked out of Liyue.” He made his way to the door, before half turning back to you. “Pay her no mind,” he said, then stalked out the door.

***

It was late, and you stretched in your chair, you’d lost track of time. Several of the agents training before deployment had come into your office. You’d had more sessions that day than any other since your arrival and you wondered at the reason for the increase in new recruits lately.

You leave your office. The hallways in this wing of the palace were dark now. You adjust your bag, making your way down the hall to the grand exit. There was light coming from a room to your right and you’re suddenly curious. Who could still be here?

You approach slowly and peek into the room. It was Scaramouche. He was sitting at a beautiful mahogany desk, ornately crafted, with a murderous look on his face as he poured over a massive stack of papers in front of him.

You bit your lip. He hadn’t noticed you at all, and you hesitated to make your presence known. Swallowing hard, you knocked softly on the open door.

He glanced up, his fierce eyes meeting yours.

“Lord Scaramouche?” you murmur, a questioning look in your eyes.

“What is it?” he asks, harsher than he meant to.

“My lord, it’s so late.” you stammer. You didn’t dare question what he was doing, so instead you ask “May I get you anything?”

His expression softens ever so slightly. He sighs impatiently, but you know it wasn’t directed at you. “Coffee.” he says. “I’m going to be here a while.”

You nod, “I’ll be right back.”

You return with coffee in the biggest mug you could find, knocking on his door softly before entering. You set the tray on the edge of the desk, away from the stack of documents he wished he could burn.

“I wasn’t sure how you like it so I brought cream and sugar on the side,” you say.

He nods, reaching for his coffee and you note the amount of sugar and cream he pours into the mug. He looks at you critically after taking a sip. “What are you still doing here so late?”

“Ah, well a dozen recruits came to see me right around when my day should have ended,” you said.

He muttered something about the trainees Signora was most likely taking with her to Inazuma, probably to fuck up her next assignment.

You hesitated to ask what he was still doing here, afraid to irritate him a second time. Your curiosity bested your better judgment though, so you took the chance to ask. “Why are you having to be here so late, my lord?”

You prepared to be reprimanded for your insolence. He sips his coffee and scowls. “Because Signora is a fucking halfwit, and these,” he says, gesturing to the mountain of paperwork, “are the demands of the Liyuean government in order to allow us to continue operating there. There are reparations we have to pay for damages Signora allowed to happen, and the fucking head of their government wants us to pay—-“ he paused, making sure he had read the document in his hands correctly. “500 million Mora for her fucking floating chamber or some shit? What IS this??”

“Did you say floating chamber?” you asked.

“That’s what this fucking says,” he seethed. “We have to agree to follow all their terms. This is so stupid,” he mutters, angrily stamping the document for this floating chamber and slamming it down in another pile. You guessed that was the pile he’s been through already.

“I’m so sorry you have to do all of this by yourself. You have to read ALL of this?” you ask incredulously.

“Yup. Lucky me. Signora gets another assignment and I get stuck cleaning her fucking mess.”

“Would…would you like some help?” you ask.

He paused again, looking up at you. “You?”

“I could read through some of that and give you the important details.” you offer. “Then you can approve them.”

He stares at you for a long moment and you almost regret asking. He stands up, walking to the other side of the room and grabs hold of a chair, dragging it behind his desk, beside his. His nimble fingers then take a chunk off the stack of papers and he places it in front of the extra chair without a word.

You smile as you both settle into the chairs and you start on your pile. It’s quiet for the most part, the sound of you both leafing through page after page is all you hear. He picks up the seal and you watch as he presses it into a pad of ink before pressing it onto a page.

You clear your throat. “This part says the Northland Bank is expected to pay for the medical expenses for any injured Millelith due to the Osial incident,” you murmur quietly.

He picks up the seal, handing it to you wordlessly. You take the seal, your cheeks blushing slightly as your fingers graze his. He doesn’t seem to notice. You stamp the document in the correct spot, and move onto the next section.

You continue this way for a few hours longer, until your eyes begin to grow heavy. You tried hard to focus on the section you were on, blinking hard as you struggle to make sense of the words on the page. Sleepiness overcomes you though and you slump over to one side.

Scaramouche startles when your head lightly lands on his shoulder. He looks at you, realizing that you’d fallen asleep. He sets down the document he was reading and looks over at the ornate clock on the wall. It was well passed midnight.

His eyes linger on the stack you’d managed to get through and he felt a strange emotion tugging at his heart. Why was he pleased to have you in his presence? Why didn’t he want to move?

He finished the section he was halfway through, and reached without looking for the seal to approve it. It wasn’t in the space on his desk between you and him and he scowled, thinking he’d misplaced it. “Fuck,” he hissed, turning his head to look for it.

He saw it clasped softly in your hand. With gentleness he was not known to possess, he carefully pried it from your fingers, a twinge of regret in his heart as you stirred awake.

It takes you a moment to realize where you are. Gentle fingers pull something out of your hand and a questioning hum leaves your parted lips.

When you realize where you are, your heart stops. “We’re done for the night,” you hear him say softly.

“My lord,” you stammer, quickly lifting your head from his shoulder. “Please forgive me, I’m so, so sorry.” You couldn’t even look at him. Embarrassment and fear washed over you in palpable waves.

He frowns, his index finger going under your chin, lifting it to make you look at him.

“There’s no need for that,” he says.

You search his eyes and there’s no anger, no irritation. His expression looked almost questioning, but you couldn’t be sure.

He stands from his chair, stretching before looking down at you, offering you his hand. You take hold and he assists you in standing, and the two of you make your way outside of his office.

“Get some rest,” he says, his eyes lingering on you after he closes the door to his office.

“Yes, sir,” you murmur. “Goodnight.”

He doesn’t reply, turning on his heel, heading towards the elevator.

You make your own way to your assigned suite, barely staying conscious long enough to make it to your bed.

The next morning, you’re still a little tired as you shuffle through your morning routine. You tie your hair up in some sort of semblance of a messy bun, motivation to do anything else with it completely gone today.

You make your way to your office, mentally going through your to do list for the day. You started on your list, when you hear a knock at the door. “Enter,” you call.

An agent enters, carrying a silver tray with coffee, cream and sugar in her hands. “This was sent for you, miss.” she says.

You smile, “thank you so much,” you say, gesturing for her to set it down. She does, nods to you and takes her leave.

On the tray, next to the cream, there was a small envelope. Curious, you opened it. You pull a long, slender key from it, and tied to it, from a silk ribbon was a note.

Written in elegant handwriting was as follows: Wait for me in my office after work and don’t forget to bring more coffee. -S.

You held the key tightly in one hand, a silly grin plastered onto your face as you read and reread his note.

Your work day couldn’t end quickly enough.

***

You balanced the tray with one hand and slipped his key into the lock with the other. Turning it, there was an audible click as you turned the door knob, opening the door. You pulled the key out and entered, closing the door softly behind you.

He wasn’t there. On his desk, the stacks of papers were there just as you’d both left them last night, and so were the chairs. You set the tray down, and wondered how long he would be.

His office was gorgeous. You hadn’t really paid much attention yesterday. It was furnished with pieces so ornate you didn’t even want to contemplate what they must have cost. You wandered to a bookshelf against the wall, pulled a random book from it and walked to the plush, leather couch in the middle of the room.

You sat, opening the book, being careful with the pages. You read for about an hour, about ancient magic and ley lines before the door swung open, hitting the wall with an audible slam.

Badly startled, you looked up at Scaramouche, who had a look on his face that spelled murder. You felt static in the air, the faint tingle of Electro sparking against your skin.

You stood quickly. “My lord?” you question.

He says nothing, slamming the door shut again. He remained facing the door, his shoulders tense as he tried to reign in his temper.

You slowly approached him. “Lord Scaramouche,” you whisper, reaching out, slowly to touch his arm.

He turned around to face you and your brow furrowed at his expression. You slipped your arms slowly around him. He didn’t resist, instead leaning into your embrace. He doesn’t hug you back but he places his forehead on your shoulder.

You don’t press him, you say nothing. After some time, he calms down and mutters that he was surrounded by idiots today, and what the fuck did he have to do to get underlings who could follow orders?

Despite yourself, you laugh. He huffs against your neck and lifts his head to glare daggers at you.

“It’s not funny,” he snaps.

“It’s kind of funny,” you say, unafraid of him now. You reach out, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

His eyes pierce yours, his expression unreadable again. He moves closer to you and your breath catches in your throat when an iron grip wraps around your waist. His expression is suddenly superior. “You are playing a very dangerous game.”

Your lips part and you feel your cheeks flush. You wanted to say something witty right back at him but words eluded you.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, his face inches from yours. “You were so smug a minute ago.”

You couldn’t speak when his lips found your neck. You gasped and your reaction spurred him to continue.

“You will wear your hair down from now on,” he commanded, his fingers going on top of your head and breaking the hair tie holding your messy bun in place. “Say you will,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back to expose your neck.

Your fingers go into his hair, raking through it as he kisses all over your throat. “I’ll wear my hair down, my lor—“

“Scaramouche,” he says, giving you unprecedented permission to call him only by his name. He kissess your jaw, then finally your lips. His kiss is yearning, passionate, and tender.

You kiss him back, gasping into his lips and he smiles against you. Your heart pounds and you’re certain he can hear it as he slips his tongue into your mouth. His arms are possessive around you, in stark contrast to the sweet way he was kissing you.

“Archons,” he whispers, his face going into the crook of your neck. He closes his eyes when he feels gentle kisses on the side of his face.

He reluctantly pulls away from you. You look up at him, smiling happily. He smirks back at you, before flicking your forehead. “That’s for earlier.”

“Ow!” you protest, covering the spot he’d flicked with your hand.

“Oh, shut up and come help me finish this shit,” he says.

You mumble incoherently as you follow him to your chair, but you’re not even halfway angry and he knows it. Damn him to hell.

***

You twirl one of his pens that probably costs more than what you made in a month absentmindedly between your thumb and index finger. “I don’t understand this one at all,” you confess, taking the related pages and sliding them over to him.

“It’s fine,” he says, taking them from you. “Let’s stop for today. I can finish this tomorrow.” He stamps the page he was reading and places some pages in the “done” pile and you’re so pleased to see that there indeed isn’t much left.

He turns to face you, and a twinge of some unknown emotion pulls at his heart when he sees how tired you look. “I’ll make sure you’re compensated for your time here.”

“What? No,” you say, shaking your head. “Don’t you dare, Scaramouche. I wanted to help you. I wanted to be here.” You lift your chin in defiance. “I won’t let you pay me for this.”

“You act like you have a choice,” he says, and suddenly you’re in his lap, pulled out of your chair by that iron grip. Archons, he was so strong.

“Please?” you said, caressing his angelic face. “Please. I don’t want your money. I didn’t—I’m not here for that. I’m here for you.”

He scoffs, trying so hard to pretend like you weren’t stirring emotions in his heart. “Fine, whatever then,” he mutters.

He kisses you back when you lean into him a moment later, and when you leave his office for the night, he tells you to keep the key when you tried to return it to him.

***

Signora strolls into your office one morning, not even bothering to knock. “Get out,” she snaps at the young recruit, who you were just finishing up with. You grit your teeth in annoyance as the young girl scrambles out of your office like a terrified mouse.

“Lady Signora,” you mutter, “good morning.” Your fingers reach for the pen tucked behind your ear. It was the one you’d—uhem—stolen from Scaramouche. “How can I assist you?”

“Begin packing your belongings immediately,” she says, looking at her flawless manicure. “You’ll be leaving with me the day after tomorrow to Inazuma.”

“What?” you asked, your eyes going wide with disbelief.

She glares at you with irritation. “What part didn’t you comprehend? You’re being reassigned.” She tosses an envelope at you before turning to leave your office. “Be ready to leave as instructed.”

You sank into your chair as your shaking hands tore open the envelope. Contained within were your orders to relocate to Inazuma and in the corner, was the seal of La Signora herself.

***

Scaramouche sat at his desk, diligently writing instructions to be sent to the agents stationed in Mondstadt, when the sound of a key sliding into the lock on his door drew his attention. He smirked, knowing it was you. It was so early in the day. Did you miss him that much?

You opened the door, and the smile he wore left his face when he saw your stricken expression. “(Name), what is it?”

“S-Signora…” you whispered. “She’s…she’s reassigning me to Inazuma with her in two days.” Tears stained your face, and you tried hard to hold back the sobs that rose from your chest.

Scaramouche looked critical. Like hell you were going anywhere if you wanted to stay. He wondered why you were so upset.

“Are you going to say anything?” you asked, wiping your tears with your sleeve. Does he not care one bit?

Scaramouche blinked. He was baffled as he gestured you over to him. You complied, and you didn’t wait for his permission before you settled yourself miserably into his lap. He smiled softly when you tucked your face into his neck.

He was quiet and calm when he reached into a drawer on his desk, for a blank document and for a pen. You heard the sound of a pen gliding against expensive paper and your heart ached. You didn’t look, but you assumed he’d just resumed what he was doing before you burst into his office, a crying mess.

He opened a different drawer and pulled an envelope from it. He shifted you slightly so he could reach for his seal across his desk. He then stamped whatever he’d just written. “You’re friends with number 11, are you not?” he asked.

You sniffled, wondering why on earth he was asking. “Yes,” you answered, pushing yourself back so you could sit up straight.

“Good. He can make himself useful today.” Scaramouche said.

Frustrated, you were about to ask what he meant, but before you could, he startled you, barking for an agent. The same girl who had brought you your coffee the other morning rushed into his office.

“My lord?” she asked, bowing deeply.

“Take this to Tartaglia immediately,” he said, holding the envelope out to her.

She rushed forward to retrieve it. “Yes, my lord.” She bowed again before hastily dashing out of his office.

“Is Childe back?” you asked.

“This morning I believe,” he replied, nonchalantly. He picked up his pen again and returned to his previous task, stroking your hair softly with his other hand.

“I hate her,” you said softly.

He hummed. “She is of no consequence.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Scaramouche,” you snapped. “She can’t just make you rearrange your whole life with a snap of her fingers like she just did to me.”

And then he understood. “Do you think I’m so incapable?” he asked coldly.

“What?” you asked.

“If you didn’t come to me because you know I’m stronger than Signora, why the fuck are you here, hm?”

“Scaramouche—“ you began.

“Do you want to stay or don’t you?” he asked, his eyes flashing.

“Of course I do!“ you said, clutching the front of his shirt.

“Say it,” he said, his voice low.

“I want to stay with you. I don’t want to go to Inazuma with her.” You cupped his face with both of your hands. “Please don’t let her take me.” Your arms slipped slowly around his neck. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t let her take me.”

“Don’t ever doubt my ability to keep that which is mine,” he said gruffly, one arm going around your waist at last. “Signora is nothing.”

You nodded, softly kissing his neck. You heard the sound of his pen against paper again and you relaxed entirely against him.

You’d nearly fallen asleep in his lap when the door to his office slammed open, startling you. You turned to see Signora, holding a crumpled document in her gloved hand. You scrambled to get off of his lap, but he held you in place, murmuring softly for you to stay.

“You have some nerve barging in here uninvited,” Scaramouche drawled, adjusting you gently on his lap, into a position more comfortable for him.

“No, you have some nerve!” she shot back. “What is the meaning of this, Scaramouche?” She held up the parchment.

“What do you think it is?” he asked. “I’ve countered your orders to relocate (Name), and so has Tartaglia.” He sounded positively bored.

“My unit will need a healer,” she snapped back. “Inazuma is hostile. The girl will come. She’s not needed here just for you and Childe and a few trainees.”

“You’re overruled, Signora,” he said, like he was talking to a petulant toddler. “Find another healer, or don’t. I really don’t care. Now, get the fuck out.”

“Listen to me Scar—“ you heard Signora say, and then you felt the boy beneath you tense with anger.

“You are one sentence away from dying where you stand,” he said softly, his voice low and deadly. “The girl is mine. I outrank you, bitch. And even if I didn’t, it wouldn’t matter because you’re no match for me. Now, if you don’t want proof that what I’m saying is the truth, get out of my sight.”

Signora seethed, but she didn’t say another word before she stormed out of the office, slamming the door so hard, the walls rattled.

Scaramouche sighed, agitated. “The fucking shit I have to put up with.”

You looked at him, tears sparkling in your eyes. You straddled his lap, surprising him. Your lips found his, and he could practically taste the relief you felt as he kissed you.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You were breathless and all you wanted was him.

Possessive hands tugged you closer against him and he looked into your eyes. “No one is going to take you away from me.” His fingers moved to brush a strand of hair behind your ear when his fingers touched something slender hidden in your hair. He pulled his pen out from behind your ear and scoffed. “You little thief!”

You laughed, and though he’d never admit it out loud, he loved how you sounded. “I wanted something of yours to keep with me during the day when I’m working.”

He was speechless. He didn’t know how to respond or why what you’d just said made him so damn happy. How had you weaseled your way into his heart? He never let anyone so close; he never wanted anyone so close.

“Archons,” he said at last, pressing the extravagant pen into your hand. You beamed up at him and took it, and he tightened his hold on you. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing that you haven’t done to me,” you replied.

He tucked your head under his chin. “You better take care of that pen. That’s my favorite one.”

You laughed again and he decided he’d do anything, deny you nothing if it meant he’d get to hear that sound.

59 notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

— 𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐘.

❝𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥.❞

SUMMARY. refers to a behaviour or way of thought peculiar to an individual; but in this case, it’s something that they do around you and only you.

CHARACTERS. tighnari, alhaitham, cyno.

GENRE. fluff, a moderate amount of crack, established relationship.

CW. mentions of cute aggression and affectionate bullying (in tighnari’s part), the reader is down bad for alhaitham and he knows it, one dad joke about cryo slimes (in cyno’s part).

THOUGHTS. finally managed to finish this draft while i was on my mini vacay >:) this is my first time writing sumeru men, so feel free to lmk what you think! <3

✰ masterlist.

TIGHNARI … likes to knock you on the head, very softly and lovingly.

No, no, don’t you go around thinking that you can escape his long and stern lectures just because the two of you are an item. Others may think that you’re the only one that has a privilege they don’t, but they can’t be more wrong.

Asking dumb questions? Flirting with him shamelessly? Want a kiss? You’d get a soft bonk to the head personally delivered by Tighnari himself first, if that even counts as a privilege.

Rest assured that Tighnari’s intent is never to hurt you, nor does it actually hurt when he does so. To him, it’s an effective way of hushing you nonverbally and it also, may or may not, be his extremely unique love language. Why?

Well, Tighnari kind of… and he stresses, just kind of likes how you scrunch your nose every time he flicks your forehead, how you would complain so adorably and how you would— ahem. Actually, he has some work to do right now, bye.

Keep reading

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ichxel

2 years ago

✨✨✨

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ichxel

1 year ago

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ichxel

2 years ago

promise

[ scaramouche x child!reader ]

summary: promises are made to be broken. and scaramouche is a broken man.

note: this is purely platonic, i love feral platonic dynamics ueueue also damn this is slowly becoming a scara blog huh | m.list

words: 1054 | warnings: unedited because im lazy as fuck

"you want me to… leave?"

scaramouche stares down at you with a commanding look, arms crossed as he sits you down on the couch after claiming that he has an important task for you.

"that's right. leave this place the moment the doctor goes for sumeru, am i understood?"

"but—"

"no, that is an order."

your mouth shuts at the sparkle of crackling electro in the air.

to leave him brings you a sense of fear and anxiousness tantamount to the number of people's throat that you had cut in half. to leave him means to be alone once more. to be separated means to not follow behind him with watchful eyes, no more of his stories whenever he catches you awake at midnight, no more standing close to him under his hat when it rains as he drapes the ends of his sleeves over your head to keep you dry.

to leave him means no more home to go back to.

why?

why would he ask you this when you have nowhere to go? no family to go back to other than him?

is he?...

"am i… am i disposable?"

scaramouche visibly staggered at your whispered words, pointing his furrowed eyes at you.

"what? i did not say that, brat."

"but you want me to leave. am i being disposed of?"

"wha—listen, brat," scaramouche sighs loudly, "i'm not disposing of you. i'm telling you to leave this place—why are you crying!?"

silent streams of tears cascade your cheeks, your teeth chomping on the inner skin of your bottom lips to keep it from trembling. after all, scaramouche hates it when you cry. he hates it when you're being weak.

perhaps it is because you're weak that he finds you replaceable?

"i can hear your thoughts from the look on your face, brat," scaramouche sighs tiredly, pushing himself up to crouch in front of you. with one hand, he tilts your chin up to look at your teary eyes—something in his chest aches at the very sight of your crestfallen face. if he had a heart, he's pretty sure it would stop beating for a second, though he dares not utter such sentiments.

"stop crying."

"you don't want me here."

"that's not what i said, are you deaf?" he clicked his tongue with a glare, the hand on your chin coming up to flick your forehead—albeit painless, so unlike his usual flicks. "i'm telling you to leave because i won't be here if anything happens while i'm in sumeru. you're leaving this place for your own safety."

dumbfounded, you tilt your head in silent confusion.

"you're still stupid as ever."

"i'm not," you pout.

"if you're not then you should know why you have to leave, idiot," scaramouche leans a little close to speak quietly, a stern look in his eyes that speaks volume of how important his next words are, "listen carefully. i will have to stay in sumeru for a very long time and the doctor will be there. do you still remember the doctor?"

"yes," you nod, "the psycho man with a mask."

you're a psycho yourself, he thought.

"that's right, but he's not the only one i'm looking out for. the other idiots in the fatui are going to come after you if they see the chance to do so. i know you're capable on your own, but those are harbingers that can and will eliminate you if you give them the smallest reason to do so," his eyebrows furrow at his own words—mental images of the things they can possibly do to you shall you defy their orders and he resist the urge to shiver—"that's why you're leaving. run as far away as you can and never leave a trace. don't let others see you, hear you, or even have the slightest chance of getting to you," a hand cups your puffy cheek, eyes staring right into yours as if looking through your soul.

so… he's not throwing me out?

"am i understood?"

with a sniff, you nod your head, wiping your tears sloppily before he scoffs and does it himself, a pair of cold hands that's been tainted in blood now gently wipes the crystal pearls from your cheeks.

"what about you?"

"what about me?" he echoed.

"promise me you'll come find me?"

taken aback, his hand leaves your cheeks for a moment, eyes wide with a combination of awe and disbelief. he feels uncertainty and a sense of dejavu overcome his senses, a fear making itself known at the back of his mind despite burying it six feet underground and more. the fire that burnt bright in his chest begins to distinguish, flickers of flame wavering and embers diminishing. this only happens for a second, before he steels himself and searches for any hint of deception in yours. yet he finds none in those hopeful eyes that dares demand him of promises.

how audacious of you to ask promises from him?

"are you dumb? who says anything about

not coming back?" his hand holds your cheeks once more, distracting himself by pinching the skin. "you belong to the spot next to me first and foremost, i thought i made that clear the first day i dragged you out of the streets?" he clicks his tongue, squishing your already pouty cheeks. "what? do you think this is your chance to finally leave? hah! you can't get away from me no matter where you hide, brat."

"ow!" you whine, trying to pull away from his hand but he pulls you close by your shoulders. almost immediately, your head nestles itself on his shoulder.

"i'll do whatever you ask me for," you exhaled a shaky breath, "as long as you promise to come find me."

if he had a heart, he knows it would be aching at the way you instantly melt in his arms—you're already small, yet you still manage to hide yourself within his hold.

it almost seems like you're hiding from the world by snuggling in his arms.

"i'll come find you," he ascertained, a hand brushing through your hair, "i'll make sure to bring you back. so for the meantime, you better stay alive."

"i will, i promise."

scaramouche closes his eyes, feeling his stomach drop at your words.

he's heard those same words before.

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ichxel

2 years ago

hi !!

can i request f! reader x tighnari where reader was always bullied and hid her ears, then she met tighnari and she stops hiding it ??

btw can i be 🤑 anon

hi !!

yes, you can:) I also gave her a tail, I hope you don't mind!

There was a time when you loved your ears. They sat so pretty on top of your head, the same shade as your hair. At night, it was a comfort to rub an ear. The motion had you falling asleep quickly. Joining the Akademiya was the turning point.

The stares you were able to handle, it's actually what you expected to happen. A few brave people asked if they could touch your ears or tail only to be politely rejected. Some even asked for pictures!

It was all easy enough to handle.

Until it wasn't.

Tugging on your ears became a fun little game when people would walk past you. Laughing at your painful whines and protests. The harsh actions leave you rubbing your poor ears afterwards. The loud sounds made them hurt enough by the end of the day, constant tugging didn't help.

Then it was the loudness. Clapping their hands next to your ears. Sometimes they'd lean in and shout.

It got to the point that your head would be pounding. Their actions leave you crying in your bed from your sore and throbbing ears. You couldn't handle it anymore.

From then on, you always wore a hat. It covered your ears that stayed turned down against your head You'd think that'll stop them from bothering you. All it did was turn their attention towards your visible and very vulnerable tail.

You ended up having to hide that, too.

Eventually, their actions stopped and you left the akidemiya to continue your studies elsewhere. Sumeru City was always too loud for you to handle anyway. But the fear of revealing your ears and tail remained.

Gandharva Ville is the place that is home to the Forest Watchers. Deep in the Avidiya forest and away from the bustling city of Sumeru. Sounded like a great place to stay to you.

It's where you meet Tighnari.

One could imagine your surprise at the sight of two fluffy ears standing on top of his head, just as dark as his hair. A tail moved gently behind him, a mixture of black and green - also like his hair. It looks so soft and well taken care of.

Her own tail twitched from under her shirt, longing for the same type of freedom. It's obvious the people here weren't the same as the ones you've dealt with most of your life - but that couldn't stop the fear you held.

Tighnari took notice of the ear tips sticking out from the bottom of your hat. How you looked away whenever you saw that someone noticed them. Shielding yourself from something that will never happen.

He knew outright asking you would lead to you either panicking or getting defensive. So he had to go about things slowly. He kept you near him, wanting to show that everyone here would do nothing to harm you.

"Here, why don't you try this?" Tighnari held out a small container to you. He saw you running your fingers through your tail, frowning at the feel of it. "This will help keep it soft and hydrated in this kind of climate. I have another one you can use if you ever go to the desert as well."

With little hesitance, you take the item. "Thank you," Truly, you were thankful. Your tail wasn't used to the humidity here in the forest so the fur was a lot dryer than normal.

Oh, but then...

"Does it work on ears, too?"

Tighnari's lips tug upwards, happy you were starting to trust him to talk about your ears and tail now. The next step is getting you comfortable enough to let them breathe. He was certain your ears were sore by the end of the day being cupped up under a hat.

"Could you help me with this?" you asked one day, holding the container in hand. Your tail unwound from your waist. Ears were still hidden but it's a start.

He spoke softly. "Of course."

You sat on the bed, tail laying in his lap once he was comfortable next to you. TIghnari is gentle as he runs his hands through the fur on your tail. It was a lot softer now and looked healthier from the time you first arrived. You've taken good care of your tail and ears on your own so far, this was just an excuse to get closer to Tighnari.

Heat rush to your cheeks. While he was occupied with your tail, you reach up and remove the hat you wore. Your ears slowly shoot up, twitching a little from being contained for so long.

"Did you want me to do your ears, as well?" He asked in a near whisper.

You nod. Eyes closed at the swirl of emotions when he tended to your ears. This is the first time you have them out freely, let alone allow another to touch them in this way.

When Tighnari was done, you felt relieved. Like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Feeling brave at the moment, you lean forward, placing a kiss on Tighnari's cheek. Completely missing the blush that rose to his face.

You went out the next day, ears and tail on show. And every day since.

Tags

genshin impact x reader tighnari x reader this is so cute what

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ichxel

2 years ago

#BFE2FD ┈ Scaramouche (wanderer) X Gn!reader ; Genre/trope: An Angsty Christmas Special! ; Wc 3000+

#BFE2FD ┈ scaramouche (wanderer) x gn!reader ; genre/trope: an angsty christmas special! ; wc 3000+ ; warnings: just an unrequited love fic... mentions of happy people idk

[6:44pm] gingerbread lingers in the air, despite the fact that you had shoved your pathetic attempt of a house in the bin a while ago.

still, the scent remains amidst the twinkle of christmas ornaments and the rustle of golden tinsel. like a mockery of fate, it hangs around from early night when you had given up waiting, to the current midnight when the flicker of christmas lights along the neighbourhood was beginning to fade.

it seemed that this christmas, you would have to spend it alone.

of course, it hadn't always been like that. your friends from distant regions had all tried their hand to invite you to various parties. most offers had been simple pleasantries since there was only a handful of those who didn’t know you reserved this special night for an equally special someone, and the others you had to let down gently.

"i'm so sorry!" you had replied. "i already have plans for the night."

some of your friends, like zhongli, had hummed thoughtfully. "i see. it is always nice to spend this festive season with your loved ones. it is a shame i couldn't spend it with you, however."

"there's always next year." you found yourself apologising again, though in your heart you knew the situation would only repeat. "and i'll see you at the new years party."

“new years, hm? then i suppose i will have to settle for seeing you then. have a wonderful christmas, name.”

hu tao beams from his right. "we'll be seeing you there! have fun with your special someone!"

others, had been a little less understanding, their whines and protests dragging on into the day.

"can't we see each other even for a second? please, please?"

"klee, name has already told you they'll be busy." albedo had interjected, appearing at her side, attention only partially directed at the conversation.

the child pouts, fists balled at her side. "that isn't fair! i wanted us to sing jingle bells, all three of us! and to decorate the christmas tree, and to see all the christmas lights! then, we were meant to stay up to meet santa and leave gifts for him!"

"i'll still be there." albedo points out.

"it's not the same."

you laugh. "i'm sorry klee, i'll make it up to you next time."

"you said that last time. you were meant to make it up to me today." klee sniffles. "are you a liar, name?"

"alright, klee, that's too far." albedo frowns. "you have to say sorry."

"it's okay! besides, i'm the one in the wrong." you crouch down to talk face-to-face, gently wiping away the stray tears fallen on her cheek. "how about we go fish blasting on new years, hm? we can go to every pond and lake in teyvat, we'll do it for however long you like."

"really? what about santa?"

“your big brother albedo will invite him!” pointedly ignoring albedo’s gaze, you keep selling your point. “we’ll have so much fun, you’ll see.”

albeit still a little upset, klee snorts up the last of her outburst and nods.

“i pinky promise this time." you wrap your pinky around hers and gave it a tight squeeze.

"you pinky promised this time. don't break it okay?" she repeats in a small voice.

you nod, standing back up. turning to albedo, you also give him a soft smile. "sorry i can't make it either, to your christmas party."

"it was sucrose's idea, i think that apology should be for her."

"still, i would have wanted to spend christmas with you."

"why can't you?" his eyes startle you in all its clarity as he turns, question capturing you on the spot. his clipboard seems almost disregarded in his arms.

"i have plans!" you blurt out. “i’m… busy.”

albedo looks at you and for a second, you’re sure he can see right through you. "a significant other?"

the chill from dragonspine is chased from your body, a prickling red flush hot in its pursuit. "no, no way, nothing like that!" after a pause, you awkwardly rush to finish the sentence. "not yet, anyway."

he smiles in return at your confession before leaning down to face klee. "come on, we shouldn't bother name anymore. they have things to do." and then to you, as klee scurries away excited at the prospect of another adventure, he wishes you luck.

“i’ll deal with the santa.” he turns, waving back slightly before ushering klee inside.

some friends already knew the man in your heart, and their invitations are gateways for jokes.

"coming to my christmas party, name?" yaemiko had suggested, before her hand flies up to her mouth. "oh wait! i forgot you have better things to do, and better people to see."

"what's this? you won't be coming?" ei perks up, eyes flickering above the book at her lap. "after all our preparations?"

yaemiko interrupts you before you can even defend yourself. "name here already has plans."

"with who?"

your face warms rapidly. "it's nothing."

"nothing? you're not coming to our party, for nothing?"

"stop it." you whine, burying your burning face in your hands. "you already know why i can't come, yaemiko."

"all the more reason why it's so very fun to poke at it."

"what? what is it? stop leaving me in the dark, you two."

"shall i do the honours?" yaemiko asks.

"ei, i made dinner plans with someone tonight. so, i can’t make it."

"oh?" the god replies. "and who is this person?"

you ignore the sly fox's chuckle, and press onwards to answer. "someone... special. someone i, someone i like."

yaemiko gasps dramatically before snickering. "blush any harder and you might come down with a fever, dearest name."

you cup your cheeks and scowl at her. "you're awful."

"and so is your love life. really, name, how long have you been pining for this man? and for this to be the first move you make is really something else."

"what she's trying to say," ei interrupts, aware of the murderous expression on your face. "is that we hope you have a good time with your special someone. though we will miss you, we hope for the best, really."

and some friends had known since the very beginning.

"eager?" tighanri asks, the very first words to leave his mouth as you enter his abode. when you don't reply, he turns to you. "it is today, right?"

"right." you groan into your hands. "should i postpone it after all? leave it to another day? what if i'm not ready after all, what if he doesn't even feel the same way as me and i look like a complete fool after everything i've done to prepare?"

"name, he would be completely stupid if he doesn't appreciate you. and you know if it doesn't end well, collei, cyno and i are joining everyone else to watch nilou perform tonight. no one will say anything if you sneak in."

you look up at him and smile. "thanks, tighnari. i don't know how but you always say the right things at the right time."

'it's called impeccable timing, i just so happen to have it. speaking of, here's the icing you wanted, for the gingerbread houses."

you inhale in the scent of sugar. "that smells really good."

"i know." turning his back to you, he begins fussing around his area. "i've been told i could make a killer wife."

"yeah?" you poke a finger in the bowl. "who said that?"

"collei."

placing your finger on your tongue, you hum in appreciation. "she's not wrong this icing is delicious. you could sell this, honestly."

"are you offering?" he turns around with a smirk.

"i can pay with friendship?"

he laughs, shaking his head. "i don't need that."

you stick a different finger in the bowl and eat that too, closing your eyes at the taste.

"do that again and the bowl will be empty before it's night."

"i'm not eating that much."

"here."

your eyes widen, bowl completely forgotten as you look at the wrapped present in tighnari's hand, adorned with a bright red bow.

"this... this is..."

"my present to you." tighnari replies, a smile on his face. "merry christmas name, i hope tonight goes well."

all these holiday wishes, abundant in counting, yet there was still a hole in your heart from where a special someone had yet to say it. you find your mind blank aside from a single, daunting thought, the blanket you had hastily placed over your shoulders failing to keep the cold as the hours went on.

you replay the memory of your invitation to him over and over and over again, struggling to find any indication that he may just be late, may have just been caught in some last minute mission, that he would still be coming because he had said yes. you find that the invitation had been so causal, such a fly away suggestion, that he would have no choice but to assume it was an offering as friends, as comrades, rather than lovers. but that was alright, even if he came to your doorstep as a friend, because at least that meant he had come, because at least that meant you hadn't sat in your own home, more alone than any other day, for hours on end, waiting for the soft thud of his footsteps up to your door.

because at least that meant he hadn't stood you up.

you had definitely just been stood up.

the frosty breeze outside causes your nose and ears to tinge. you rub your arms as the cold settles in, but even the chill from the night wasn't enough to suffocate your thoughts. the crunch of snow, the whistle of the wind, the scuttering of cats as you near a little too close, all these things were not enough to erase the meaningless thoughts in your head.

it had all been so promising, the progression of your relationship, the final moment of courage that made you ask, the smile that he sent you, so full of adoration though now you can only wonder if it had all been your imagination. as the snow rains on, you wonder if you’ll forever associate the light sprinkling of white to this very moment, where the disappointment is enough to submerge you.

well, tighnari had said you could always join him, if all went wrong.

"a christmas night alone for you, name?"

you look up, squinting at the rush of snow. a single figure stands in the distance, something about his posture so familiar to you. at last, you place a name to the face and you huff a cloud of steam into the air.

"scaramouche, no, the wanderer." you reply, his name dry on your tongue. "i wouldn't be mocking me if you were doing the same."

he shrugs, closing the distance between the two of you. you find him wearing a red scarf, and the very sight of it reminds you of someone else. "i choose to spend my christmases alone, though i don't think that would be the case for you."

"how can you be so sure?"

he smirks, the gesture so natural to him. "you've been crying." when you rush to rub at your eyes, he chuckles, loud and unapologetic. "rubbing it will only make it worse, don't you think?"

"shut up, wanderer."

“not in the mood to talk? that hurts me, especially on a beautiful night like this.”

you huff, letting the cold from your fingers settle into your burning eyes. “whatever. just leave me alone.”

silence, though not the type you like. you wonder why you can’t here the sound of his footsteps leaving you like you were so sure he was going to do. after all, the relationship between the two of you had never been close, simply friends of friends, sparing one another a nod in acknowledgment and maybe a few snarky remarks.

when you look up, he’s still standing there, illuminated by streetlights.

“why aren’t you leaving?”

“what kind of person would i be to leave a crying woman alone out on the street?”

“the same type of person you’ve always been.” you sniffle, cold.

the gesture isn’t lost on the wanderer, and with a sigh, he begins to unravel his scarf. you frown, backing away slightly.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

without a word, the wanderer takes a step, and then another until he’s right in front of you. catching your eyes, he huffs, the steam blowing over your face, before slinging the scarf around your neck.

at his touch, you fall silent.

“so.” he begins. “who was the one that broke your heart?”

“it was no one.” you do a poor job at avoiding his eye.

“i’m not a patient person, name.”

again, you ignore him, shuffling into the scarf around your neck. though it hurt your ego to admit it, the world around you definitely felt warmer.

with a tsk, the wanderer jabs a finger at your forehead and pushes back, forcing you to look up with a yelp. your eyes meet, and an insult raises to your tongue. “what the fuck! let go of me.”

“answer the question. who stood you up?”

you shake yourself from his touch and wiggle backwards, placing distance. “it was childe, if you have to know. jesus, wanderer, your finger is cold as shit.”

“childe?” the wanderer repeats. “childe? you’re all sad and moopy because of childe?”

you glare at him. “shut it. i don’t need you to criticise my love life.”

finally, a loud laugh escapes his throat. he even throws his head back, though you were almost positive your confession wasn’t even the least bit funny. that doesn’t stop him though, a hand wrapping around to clutch at his stomach, his laughs quickly becoming gasps of air.

“yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. no really, thanks for that. it’s really helping.”

the wanderer peeks up at you through one eye, the most vibrant smile you’ve ever seen on his face still remaining. “oh you have no idea how much that made my day!”

“i think i have a rough idea.”

“you’re hilarious, name. what made you go ahead and fall for childe?”

“your heart is as cold as your fingers, wanderer. besides… i didn’t say i liked him.”

“you didn’t have to. the red on your face is enough.”

your heads cover your cheeks again, cursing your body for being so expressive. “whatever. now let me leave.”

“hold on.” his arms stops you from walking past him, his gaze lingering at your waist before he pulls back. when he turns to face you, you don’t step back despite the proximity. it felt like a challenge, like he was daring you to back down. “you’re really spending the christmas alone? seriously?”

“it doesn’t concern you.”

“well i’m about to make it concern me. spend the christmas with me.”

this time, it was your turn to laugh. “you’re kidding me, right? we barely know each other. and you totally laughed in my face, like, a second ago.”

“you just did the same thing to me just now.” he points out. “it cancels out.”

you hold your ground. “i am not spending the christmas with you. what, are you asking me out right now?”

“why? getting nervous?”

“as if. you’d have to be the last person on teyvat for me to go on a date with you.”

“that’s harsh.” his breath fans over your face as he laughs. “i would have gone on a date with you if you asked.”

“well, i’m not.”

he hums, and something in his gaze changes, like a gear clicking into place. “but i am.”

you hate that his words leave you flustered, blaming it on the fact that his suggestion had been absurd and abrupt and not the fact that he was looking at you the way you always hoped childe would. “wanderer, don’t joke. i’m really not feeling that right now.”

ignoring your words, his fingers creep up your arm, leaving a warm trail, dragging upwards to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “well, you’re not the worst thing i could pick up on a chirstmas night.”

“woah, you really have a way with words, huh.” your heart beats faster, a betrayal to your mind. even as you speak, you find yourself enchanted by the way he looks at you, like he was holding you in the palm of his hand.

“not pushing me away?” his fingers drift up your cheek, and you shiver.

then, his hand finds purchase on the top of your head, fisting a handful of your hair and yanking it up. you yelp, hands flying to the spot of pain, words of protest already on your tongue, your mind telling you that you knew it, you knew he was up to no good, when his words cuts through the panic and freezes you.

‘look.” he says, his tone somewhere between disinterest and humour. “what’s above us, hm, name?”

you study the green above the both of you in a daze. “mistletoe.”

lighter this time, he lowers your head so he can look at you, fingers caressing your head slightly as if it will erase the pain. and it does, in a wonder that only christmas can bring, you find yourself speechless. the boy in front of you doesn’t register, though you can’t miss his degrading smile and the way his head is tilted for your response. you can’t move however, unsure if moving will break the moment, unsure on why you are so hesitant to end the situation when you really should be ending it, unsure on the warmth blossoming in your chest.

with another hand, the wanderer swipes a finger under your lip before letting it drop to pull you closer by the waist. “not protesting anymore? i always thought the snarky part of you was your only redeeming factor.”

you open and close your mouth, then open it again.

“i guess your stupidity has it’s own charm.” he snickers. “you’re bright red.”

“i’m bright red?” you squeak.

“mhm.” leaning in, he finally closes the distance.

and when your lips meet under mistletoe, it isn't the soft caress of his tongue that you notice but that he didn't quite taste like gingerbread.

merry christmas everyone! whether you celebrated yesterday, or you're celebrating today, or even if you don't celebrate at all, i hope you all have a wonderful day with friends and family !! ☆ i'm a little busy so sorry for the draft (again) !!

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ichxel

2 years ago

reminiscence.

fem! reader, scara and nahida would act like siblings change my mind, includes sumeru archon quest spoilers!

“would you mind telling me more about [name]?”

scaramouche had to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“excuse me?”

“[name]. i want to know more about her.”

the tiny god of wisdom gently rocks back and forth on her makeshift swing created by her control over dendro—watching over the city of sumeru with soft eyes whilst the former harbinger stares daggers onto her back of her head.

a sigh escapes the man's lips from behind her, a telltale sign of his incoming exasperation, “you read my mind without my permission again? i remember clearly telling you to cut it out, didn't i?” his annoyance doesn't come unnoticed by the observant child.

“it was quite improper of me to do so, but i'm the god of wisdom. i actively seek out knowledge, and such—i couldn't resist the temptation of peering onto a mind as eccentric as yours.” her tone remains understanding of his irritation, yet all the more wise in explaining her unwarranted prying.

the dark-haired male behind her hums, leaning back onto the tree as he shuts his eyes closed, seemingly given up on voicing his displeasure towards the archon.

“tell me what you know so i'll know where to start.”

his immediate compliance makes the curious child turn her head his way, staring at him with wide eyes.

“you...” nahida trails off as she smiles in relief, quickly reminding herself to not comment on his chosen act of opening up as he might get impatient and dismiss the subject altogether.

the distant chatter of her people down at the city successfully averts her attention from him, her eyes now gazing down at a certain blonde traveller stopping by to buy some supplies for their next adventure.

“you were dreaming of her during your slumber. she's...the fourth betrayal you encountered, correct?” nahida knows that you were anything but a betrayal, but she has to bend her words to his whims for now as to avoid a temper tantrum.

scaramouche hums in response.

“out of all the companions you've trusted, you seemed to cling onto your memories of her the most. why is that?”

“if you've read my mind, then i'm sure you already know why.”

“you're not gonna deny it?” the lesser lord cranes her neck to look at him over her shoulder, brows raised questioningly at his statement. “that you were in love, romantically?” she had carefully formed the question to give him the freedom of denying it just in case he wasn't ready to face his past just yet, but this situation was clearly something she didn't expect.

the male remains resting against the tree behind him, uncaring of the child's rather surprised gaze as his eyes stay shut. “if there's one thing you taught me while being under your care, it has to be acceptance.” he feels his anemo vision thrum to life by his chest, but he pays no mind to it as he continues, “i have nothing to lose now, so I might as well stop lying to myself to give my existence some type of meaning.”

nahida can't help the softening of her eyes towards the male, her smile widening by a fraction before she returns her gaze towards the city below her. if anything, that's probably his way of thanking her. it's a pretty roundabout way considering the better alternatives, but it managed to get the message across, didn't it?

she sighs in content, “that's essentially all I know about her. once again, would you mind telling me how she was like?”

you would probably pass out if you found out that the god of wisdom wishes to know more about you.

the ends of his lips twitch upwards for a moment as he thinks back on the memories he held dearly of you;

ranging from the embarrassing and funny moments you two shared like that one time you accidentally mistook him as a girl due to how graceful and fair his skin and face was, or up to the more intimate moments—like watching the narukami festival unfold along with its blooming fireworks from the mountain peaks of tatarasuna...

...and that one time he finally let your desires free and bared himself for you to touch—his first time.

he feels his cheeks burn at the thought, crossing his arms with a huff as if to breathe out the sinful thoughts.

now that he was free from the shackles of burdens and hatred, everything he experienced with you no longer seemed to be as bitter and disgusting to recall—unlike the times before where he'd have occasional dreams of you back in the fatui, the pettiness in his nerves as he calls it a nightmare that reminds him of how naïve and weak he was back then.

he returns to the matter at hand with a new sense of clarity—now what was he supposed to say again?

right. he was supposed to tell nahida about you.

he can't believe he's still blushing over you after all these centuries.

lifting his eyelids, the first thing he catches in his eyesight was nahida's knowing smile—directed right at him as she stays still on her swing.

why is she—?

oh.

making haste with his movements, he quickly lifts his hand to pull down his hat over his face, only to discover he wasn't wearing his hat at the moment—so pathetically enough, he opts to cover his face with a hand, shyly hiding his face from the grinning archon as he looks away with reddened cheeks and ears.

he got too carried away while reminiscing, it seems.

“i see...so you're still very much in love with her, hm?” nahida speaks up with a teasing tilt to her voice, relishing in this rare moment of the male's lowered guard, “not like i blame you. she was really pretty in your dreams, and probably even prettier in person.”

“shut up. do you want me to continue or not?”

with a quick apology amidst her fit of giggles, she nods, looking away once again from the eccentric wanderer to give him the privacy he deserves.

“sorry, sorry. now you may start.”

her curiousity is piqued. just how much of an impact did you make to cause the male to make such interesting reactions?

she's about to find out now, it seems.

might make part two idk

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