#kabukimono fanfic

[solitary-traveler]

Stars Around My Scars

The scars on your wrists stood out to him though and he usually expresses great displeasure towards it.  “I don't like them” he frowns, “They reek of desperation”

Kabukimono x Gn!Reader

Notes: Hiii, so um let me clear a couple things first. I'm not able to post the second part for ascent to oblivion since I'm busy and exams are coming up. I promise I'll upload it as soon as possible. Take this simple gift for now. And yes this is a repost. Anyway, I just merged them together. That was a shitty decision honestly. Seriously, me and my impatient ass yesterday-

Art: @OogyPng (X)

Warning: mentions of self harm, i swear there's fluff-

The beauty of mortal life comes with its finite period of existence, that fleeting period before dissipating in the blink of an eye. 

Much akin to that of a firework display.

They explode, bragging their scintillating colors that douse the sun in jealousy. With an ear-piercing blast, it blankets the night sky, fluorescing like the moon as it gleams like the stars above.

If life was momentary for a puny human, why not make use of it?

Why not become a wanderer and travel the world?

You get to region hop and satiate your wanderlust. To encounter unfamiliar faces and attach their names to your expanding friends’ list. To pick up tidbits about riveting stories recounted by elders and children alike. The possibilities are unending, a spectacle waiting to be unboxed.

Yet there’s always the impending menace of falling victim to the grappling claws of solitude.

You’ve been plunged into that headspace a few times already. Despite your protests, the glister of joy and love you’ve gotten from simple things flickered faintly, the bleakness settling in. Your surroundings felt barren, as the dismal winds swept away every inch of ecstasy from within you. Your godforsaken history comes back to taunt you, a reminder of your internal demons who’s having a field day tormenting you.

“You’re so fucking petty it’s almost hilarious. So undeserving. Why are you still here? You’re not worth anything. And you’ll never be.”

“An accident? That’s a bullshit excuse.Without you, the accident wouldn’t occur. It’s all your fault. Everything is.”

“Everyone hates you. Why can’t you get that right? Everyone you talk to finds a fault in you that they don’t dare say to your face. But they know. They can’t help but judge you. Of course they would wouldn’t they? You’re a weirdo”

“A disgrace.”

“A worthless piece of shit.”

The thoughts bounce within your mind, endlessly toying with your emotional state.

You emit a burst of bitter laughter.

It‘s cold.

The temperature was rather freezing despite the incandescence the sun was offering. You can barely feel it radiate through your skin, as a pang smashes through your heart.

You don’t want to be cold.

Your gaze shifts to your sword resting on the patch of grass beside you.

Another benefit of wandering. No one would suspect that your scars are self-inflicted.

As far as you’re concerned, It’s only natural for wanderers to acquire marks that resemble cuts and bruises on their bodies. Incessantly faced with the turmoil of threats and hazards, scars are assumed to serve as tokens of the risk they have confronted on their previous journeys. 

Besides, it’s not like you wanted to do it. It just felt right. Like the self imposed wounds on your wrists belonged there. It felt as if the blade slicing your hand like paper was supposed to do it. That watching the red liquid flow out of it was because you deserved it.

At least you’re not cold anymore. Who knew blood could be so warm?

—-------------------------

The distant display of lights crackle against the tranquil night.

You flash a mixture of colors, expressing the turmoil of what you refer to as your emotions. Yet the speck of your allure was gradually dwindling. 

It wouldn’t take long before you vanish.

Like a pretty firework.

But what use is a pretty firework when it waves and dances all alone with the stars, concealed far from anyone's vision? 

What use is a pretty firework when they're just meant to blink momentarily and dissolve?

You got your answer when you met an eccentric puppet during one of your travels. Sweet, little Kabukimono found your dying spark and rekindled it with his saccharine smiles and candied words. 

You grasped the concept of how fireworks are meant to shine for others to see, for at least one person to view and relish. For them to admire. And for them to love.

And Kabukimono loved you.

There’s no denying that. 

Your traveling companion cherished you, always doting you with his presence. He would never leave your side unaccounted for and often offers you praises that you find doubtful.

“You’re so cool Y/N! You’re so efficient in fighting! Can you teach me??”

“I didn’t mean to stare! You just… looked pretty from here…”

“I just wanted to spend time with you! …Is that so bad?”

Much to your skepticism, you find yourself hesitating to swallow his words. They felt like lies, sugar coated phrases meant to lure you into a trap of false hope. False sense of security. I mean, who would find you this interesting? Who would want to be by your side? Who would want to constantly seek you out because they enjoyed your presence? Because they enjoy being with you?

Lies. 

Every honeyed statement that rolls out of his tongue are nothing but lies.

He was going to leave you. Sooner or later.

But for whatever reason, the puppet stayed. He would not tire from his sickening performance of pretending to care for you. He should visit the theater sometimes, given how top tier his acting skills are. He claims with a two faced, innocent grin that the place beside you was his, and only his for as long as you were together. He says he wants to know about you—to study and learn what makes you… you—all the while those deceitful puppy eyes stare at you whenever you recount tales from your journey.

You’re stubborn self refuses to acknowledge the fact that he’s showing you genuine affection. Authentic fondness.

Maybe… it’s not an act? 

You were perplexed. You aren’t sure how to navigate through the solution of this problem, considering how you have no experiences regarding this matter. You aren’t aware of what to do, of what to say. It was frightening really, venturing into uncharted territories. 

So you do nothing.

And Kabukimono remains by your side.

The puppet was nosey when it came to you. One time, he caught a glimpse of your scars when you attempted to snatch a fish for dinner, only to result in you falling into the water. You sure had plenty of them. He sighs, wondering how much they must’ve hurt. Poor you.

In all honesty, he pities you. You carry an aura of despair, a chilling sensation that never seems to go away. It was attached to you in a way, like a melancholic burden that lays upon your shoulders. A suffering the puppet doesn’t want you going through. 

He would often ask about the origin of your scars. You were quite reluctant at first, but his persistence was soon rewarded by one of your wondrous tales. He cherishes your stories. It was always enchanting to hear about different regions that he can not visit. 

The scars on your wrists stood out to him though and he usually expresses great displeasure towards it. 

“I don't like them” he frowns, “They reek of desperation”

In the young Kabuki’s mind, he notices that they don’t match the other marks on the surface of your skin. They were messy and painful to look at, like a blend of misery and torment was doused over that certain area. A mixture that can’t be dried, that can’t be removed.

He detested seeing you drowning in your sorrows.

An idea invaded his thoughts. He picks up a bright yellow marker from your bag and gently clutches your arm. He pops open the cap and uses your hand as a canvas, doodling little stars around your scars. This warrants an eyebrow raise from you, a look he just dismisses. 

“What are you doing?”

He flashes you a grin—one of the many precious expressions he loves to show off to you—as he huffs proudly, “I'm drawing stars!”

You were baffled. “...Why?”

“So that these little guys can protect you! That way, no more painful scars when I'm not around!”

When I'm not around.

A tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

You were feeling a bit cold today. 

But Kabukimono seemed to have warmed you up in his own way.

For a moment, your inner demons  and insecurities were thrown behind a wall, padlocked there while Kabuki held the key. The world stilled, no movement dared to interrupt the serene moment between two wanderers who found solace in the presence of each other. 

Your gaze never left the indigo haired puppet as he continues to work on the stars. He was focused on it like it was some masterpiece he was dying to show to the world.

…Seriously, he's such a silly guy.

#genshin impact #genshin #kabukimono #kabukimono x reader #genshin impact fanfic #scaramouche #scara fanfic #genshin scara #scara x reader #scara x y/n #scaramouche x reader #gender nuetral reader #genshin x reader #wanderer genshin #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer #wanderer x y/n #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #scaramouche fanfic #wanderer fanfic #scaramouche brainrot #kabukimono fanfic #i swear this becomes fluff #starts of as angst

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in love.

The puppet that had recently begun to live in your village had been acting strange around you lately. His name was Kabukimono, and you had never met anyone like him before. You distinctly remember the first time you saw him, Niwa and the others crowded around him. He had the fairest skin, long luscious locks, and clothing that only the highest-standing nobles in Inazuma could afford. He almost reminded you of a princess.

Although the other villagers accepted him, they were still quite reserved towards him. Niwa, Katsuragi, and a few others were the only ones who would smile and laugh with him, ruffling his hair as if he were a normal human. And though Kabukimono was greatly pleased by this, you could see he was still rather lonely. After all, his friends worked most of the day while he was left to his own devices as of now.

You were fascinated by the beautiful boy who seemed enamored with the most simplest of things life had to offer - collecting fruits (especially Lavender Melon, which seemed to be his favorite), playing with finches and other small creatures, and shyly yet curiously watching the other children play from a distance. You were quite entranced with him, and so you struck up a conversation with him. From that day forward, Kabukimono was a changed puppet.

Kabukimono would constantly stare at you and then immediately look away when you turned to face him. He would trail behind you like a lost puppy until you acknowledged him, and quickly scurry to your side. You would wake up to the puppet sitting outside your house, waiting to start the day with you (you were greatly concerned once you realized he sat there for the whole night.) He’d insist on carrying everything for you, and although he was very strong, he did not have a good sense of balance, and well… you can guess how that turned out. He was quite literally attached to your hip, and it didn’t take long for everyone else to notice as well. 

The kids would giggle uncontrollably and start to whisper: “Kabuki and [Name], sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-”, you quickly clamped your hands over their mouths before they could say anything else, while the puppet was confused the whole time. Couples would shoot you knowing looks. Niwa’s wiggling eyebrows and grin did not help you much either. Kabukimono’s love-struck behavior only increased but the problem was that he himself did not understand why he felt this way. Often you would see him with a stumped expression. And well, you had grown a soft spot for the puppet too… you completely adored him. You wanted to make him happy. But first, you must talk with him.

It was a normal day where you were doing nothing in particular, simply enjoying the calmness while Kabukimono sat next to you as well. The puppet had trouble understanding the concept of “relaxing” and doing nothing but he did feel the stress leaving his body whenever he engaged in this activity with you. The birds chirped, the breeze was cool, and everything felt perfect for some conversation.

“Kabukimono, have you been alright lately?” you questioned, hoping to get him to talk about his feelings. The puppet perked up at your voice.

“Me? Yes, I’ve been fine. Why?”

“Well, sometimes I see you looking a little down. I was just wondering why.” Kabukimono was surprised you noticed that, and he felt a bit shy but happy at how much you paid attention to him.

“W-well, it’s nothing really,” he tried to reassure himself and you but you didn’t buy it.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you advised. “I want to help you with whatever’s bothering you.” Kabukimono chewed on his lip, persuaded by your kindness. A determined expression appeared on his face.

“I think I’m sick, [Name],” he said it so seriously you were caught off guard. Out of all answers, you were not expecting that.

“Sick…? But you know you cannot get sick,” you said, trying to hint at the fact that puppets could not contract illnesses.

“I know that, but there’s just no other explanation I can think of! I asked some of the children in the village, and my symptoms line up with what they said!”

“Well, what are your symptoms?”

“My body gets really hot, my palms get sweaty… and my chest starts to feel funny,” he explained.

“Hmm, that does sound like a sickness.” The puppet let out a resigned sigh but then straightened up again.

“But…”

“But?”

“These things… they only happen around you, [Name]. Around everyone else I’m fine, but then as soon as I see you, all these weird things start happening to me,” Kabukimono looked down at his lap bashfully, almost afraid his statement would offend you. Your heart completely melted.

“Hey, look at me, Kabukimono,” you requested, and the puppet slowly complied, looking at you with his shimmering, worried eyes. “Don’t give me that look,” you giggled. “I’m not mad. In fact, I think I know what’s wrong with you. But I… need to do a quick test on you to confirm. Is that okay?”

Hope appeared in his eyes as he nodded excitedly. “Oh, of course! But what do you need to do?”

“Here, give me your hands, Kabukimono,” you said gently, as you placed his soft palms on top of yours. The puppet’s stunned and red-faced reaction already told you everything you needed to know but you still had to take this slowly. “How do you feel right now?”

“I-, I…” Kabukimono struggled to find the words to describe his current state. All he felt was hot, hot, hot from the simple yet affectionate gesture. But the patient smile you gave him was comforting. “I feel very happy, and my mouth hurts from smiling so much. And my body is getting hot like I said before.”

“I see,” you nodded in understanding. You released his hands from yours, much to Kabukimono’s disappointment, but then you placed your hand on his cheek, immediately bringing back his giddiness. “What about now?”

“I feel so…” The puppet was cut off as your thumb suddenly moved to trace your lip. “Ah, it feels like my chest is going to explode!” You chuckled at his simplicity as you removed your hands from him.

“And you’re absolutely sure you only feel this way towards me?” Kabukimono shook his head rapidly.

“No! No, no one else. No one else comes close to you,” he declared, intent on making himself clear, still in awe at the tingly feeling your thumb left on his lips. Your heart sped up from his unintentional adorableness.

“Well, I think I know what you’ve been inflicted with,” you nodded in response. “Yes, it’s quite obvious to me now.” Kabukimono leaned in more, curiosity taking over his body. He was so interested to hear what a smart human like you would say.

“You’re not sick, Kabukimono. You’re simply feeling a rather intense emotion,” you said slowly, hoping not to confuse him. “You are in love,” you finished. Kabukimono’s face was frozen in shock, only a slight shaking of his mouth and eyes could differentiate him from a statue.

“Love… love, i-is that what this is…?” His voice had come to almost a whisper. “Love, like how those married couples love each other?” Suddenly the mental image of him kissing and holding you appeared in his mind and would not leave. “Love!” The puppet could not help but repeat the lovely word again and again. But then a realization hit him and his excitement came to a screeching halt.

“But love… love needs more than one person, does it not? You need to… oh,” the reality of the situation hurt him. Surely you would never return his love. Surely you were interested in someone else, someone who was human. He was just a no-good puppet. Quickly you found your words to comfort him.

“No, no, no, Kabukimono. Look at me, pretty. Please don’t look so forlorn. You need not worry, as I love you too. I love you with my whole heart,” you stated matter-of-factly, in a way that could not be disputed. 

It felt like something was stuck in Kabukimono’s throat, as he found it hard to push words out. “You… love me?” You vigorously nodded in confirmation. “You love me,” he repeated as if saying it more and more would help it settle in. “You love me… such an amazing person loves me…”

You squeezed his hand in response. “Yes, I love you dearly, Kabukimono. I want us to be together,” you said softly. The puppet’s mouth opened and closed, not sure how to even respond to such tenderness. But what ended up coming out was a pitiful sob and streaming tears.

“Thank you for teaching me… thank you for loving me. I don’t know how I could-” The boy’s words began to slur as he cried. Although he loved you dearly, Kabukimono’s mind could only think about how you could abandon him as his creator did. Would you soon deem him unworthy or not good enough, and leave him too? You were taken aback at this drastic change in behavior but quickly pulled him into the reassuring warmth of your chest. You now understood what Niwa meant when he said he was an emotional puppet.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, okay?” You rubbed Kabukimono’s back in gentle motions as you instructed him. “In, out… in, out, okay…?” The puppet followed your directions and with time, his sobs lessened and now he was a curled-up quiet mess that was in your arms. He would not move away from your chest, and you would be more concerned but you knew he did not need to breathe.

“You don’t need to apologize or thank me for anything. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but… I will always be here for you. You are a beautiful, kind soul. I am so happy to love you, my dearest,” you whispered, stroking his hair in a further attempt to calm him. The puppet almost felt like bawling again at your sincerity, but your voice was such a soft lull, all he wanted to do was take a break in your embrace.

“I love you, [Name]...” Kabukimono mumbled softly, as he fell asleep right there on your chest, knowing that he would be blessed with dreams with you instead of his abandonment.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kabukimono x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #kabukimono #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin #wanderer genshin #scaramouche fanfic

[dizzyjaden]

❝ all that is ephemeral ❞

Scaramouche x gn! Reader

♤ Summary: Relaxing fluffy evening after your husband comes home from work.

♤ Warnings: Implication of death, immortal x mortal, arranged marriage (but happy !), fluffy Scaramouche :')

♤ A/N: You are the world just as much as you are a small grain of sand. Accept where you are mortal, embrace where you are immortal. Scaramouche will love you anywhere <3

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　

"Darling, what is on your mind?"

Your tender voice cuts through the silence in the room where you sit alongside your husband. His eyelids slowly lift, tired as he seems, he is ethereal when the light from the window of the sunset outside lays itself bare across half his face in his dimly lit home. But as his lover, you do not see his serenity, all you see is the stress in the furrow of his brow.

He does not respond to your question, only brings his lips to meet your cheek, and then asks a question of his own.

"How do you not find boredom while sitting silently?" He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. "So many I know can't stand still for a second."

Your answer comes more naturally than you expect.

"Your latent presence alone is contentment. Everything that needs to be said between the two of us floats through the room without a voice to accompany it."

Scaramouche stares up at you in admiration, his eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted.

"Don't you find life far too short to not speak your mind?" He asks.

You smile sadly.

"I actually find it excruciatingly long."

He smiles back.

"Time has passed so much swifter since I met you." He speaks. His smile falters slightly. "I feel as though life with you will pass in the blink of an eye."

"Is that what was on your mind?" You ask, digging your heels in quickly. It is so uncommon for Scaramouche to talk about his own thoughts and reflections with you.

"Sure... Amongst so many other little things." He whispers.

"Some big Tsaritsa-issued assignment tomorrow?" You question awkwardly.

You don't like the nature of his work. He knows this, so he rarely talks about it. You'd rather he talk about it than attempt to pretend it isn't happening around you.

Scaramouche sighs.

"I don't want to discuss work with you." He mutters. "Everything but you feels akin to work nowadays. I'd like to keep it all separated in my head."

You shake your head in disagreement.

"I'd love to take some worries off your shoulders." You say. "That's it."

He blinks up at you for a few quiet moments before sighing.

"I don't want to discuss anything." He clarifies. "Everything that needs to be said... Floats. Like you said."

You nod, quickly accepting the challenge.

The rest of the evening passes quietly, simply. After a while, you go on to prepare dinner with him. When you first got married, you'd usually shoo him away from the kitchen. Assuring him that you were more than happy to make him dinner, eventually, he admitted he just feels awkward watching you work alone, and you allowed for his extra set of hands.

Your entire engagement was not the most ideal. Your marriage had been arranged. Apparently, it was obvious to the cryo archon that Scaramouche did not have roots in Snezhnaya or attachment to his position. Marriage was her idea for him meant to keep him in place. You were just picked out from all the other noble families in Snezhnaya.

While it was something both of you resented at first, you now wonder that maybe as the goddess of love, The Tsaritsa knew what she was doing. The two of you did fall in love. You were certain you knew what to expect from a marriage with a harbinger, The Balladeer no less. You emotionally prepared yourself to live a life as a servant or a maid, rather than a spouse.

But when you moved in with him, you came to the realization so quickly that he wasn't loud, arrogant, or demanding. He was just quiet. Peaceful, even. Irritable, but respectful when met with confrontation. At first, it seemed as though he was just too tired from work to make his time at home a warzone as well, but affection was born of the inconvenience. He made a habit out of finding where you were in the house and preferred being nearby.

Aside from the servants who assist you in housekeeping, his mansion is empty. Silent rather than quiet. Barren. Anyone would become lonely.

Scaramouche was truly easy to understand. Your observations in his day-to-day life made the pieces fall into place. He wanted to love. He wanted to be loved. He was never sure where to look for it.

You are unsure how anyone could describe him as cruel as he quietly apologizes for merely grazing your side when you begin to set the dining table.

The two of you eat quietly, he practically scarfs his own food down, which humors you. He is always famished by the end of the day.

"Would you like mine as well?" You offer your portion of food to him without a second thought, he glares at you as if you just insulted him.

"Eat your food [Name]." He says in irritation. "Your day was no shorter than mine."

You hum in agreement.

When you finish eating your food, you're surprised to see Scaramouche waiting, staring at you eagerly when you look up to him. You smile.

"Yes...?"

You prompt him, though you know why he's looking at you like that. But, Scaramouche just isn't the kind of person to shamelessly admit that he so desperately looks forward to the conclusion of each day, when the two of you are curled up in each other's arms holding one another tightly in the warm comfort of a giant luxurious bed.

"Nothing." He lies.

And yet, when you go to wash the dishes from dinner, his arms are greedily wrapped around you, hugging you from behind with his face buried in your shoulder. You choose to not mock him about it, he is rather warm.

After you finish the dishes, he follows you into the bedroom where the two of you resign to your usual sides of the room to change into more sleep-appropriate clothing.

You turn towards the bed once you're changed, and realize Scaramouche has already buried himself under the covers, his face deep in the plush of the pillows, obviously exhausted.

You smile, and climb in beside him. He blindly holds out an arm to pat the area you've taken next to him, when his hand finds your cheek his thumb affectionately rubs across it.

"I... Missed you all day." He professes, his voice muffled from the silk covering his mouth.

You can't help but blush at his honey-coated tone. You don't respond but shuffle closer to him, causing him to turn on his side to face you.

He brushes your hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear.

"Will you... Always be here?" He asks quietly. "You won't... Leave or anything?"

"What a notion..." You say in a low voice. "Where did that come from?"

"I want you to say... That you won't leave." Scaramouche said, a slight blush dusting his cheeks to signify his embarrassment.

"I won't leave you, Kuzu." You say certainly, without hesitation. "Ever. Trust me."

His eyes trailed off as he got lost in thought.

"I want to take you... And all that is ephemeral... And keep it for myself. But I can't... All I can do is be in this moment where you are here." He speaks.

Your eyes widen.

"I am telling you I will not leave-"

"You are mortal, [Name]." He whispers shakily. "You can't keep your promise, no matter how badly either of us want you to."

You are confused, but Scaramouche pulls you to his chest before you can speak again.

"Love you... I love you." He kisses the top of your head sleepily. "Get some rest, my love."

"...Goodnight, Kuzu..."

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[maehemthemisfit]

Thinking about sleeping beside kunikuzushi for the first time. He watches you so intently as you make your bed, hugging the pillow you gave him tightly to his chest.

kunikuzushi who stands there as you get settled onto the bed, not bothering to move until you look over and pat the spot beside you, ushering him to sit.

kunikuzushi who put on the change of comfortable clothes you gave him but doesn't take off the gift tethered around his neck as he idly caressed his finger over the iridescent feather.

kunikuzushi who's so delighted when you allow him to blow out all the candles, the flames twinkling in his night colored eyes.

kunikuzushi who continues to sit up while you lay down, content on watching whatever you're doing even after you closed your eyes

kunikuzushi who jumps at the sound of your voice when you catch him staring and ask him why isn't he going to sleep.

kunikuzushi who... is afraid of falling asleep, fearing that something bad would happen. What if he cries and you find him pathetic and useless? What if he opens his eyes to find you've abandon him? What if—

kunikuzushi who freezes when you cup his neck, running your thumb over the curve of his chin as your sleepy eyes gazed up at him. He blinks away the mist in his eyes, swallowing the fears so deeply sown into his chest as he nods.

kunikuzushi who slowly grabs your hand, weaving his fingers with yours as he lays on his side facing you.

kunikuzushi who waits until you're completely asleep so he can curl up against you, his lashes fluttering down as he recounts the wonderful day he had with you.

kunikuzushi who finally falls asleep, knowing you'll be there in the morning. Unconsciously, his mouth quirks into a content smile, his mind wondering off to the thought of cooking you breakfast, to prove how useful he is and as a thank you for staying with him so long.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #scaramouche fanfic #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #genshin fluff #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer #wanderer x y/n #kabukimono #wanderer fluff #genshin x you #scaramouche genshin x reader #gi x reader #wanderer genshin #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fluff

[kunikukitty]

☆ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

ix. beauty of art

Since when did it started?

You've always been complimented to be a beauty, always been given praises, and you too are confident when it comes to your appearance.

Not to mention, you are also surrounded by good-looking girls such as Mona, Hutao, and Faruzan.

When did it started, when you began to question your own vision and the mirror? Since when were you became so sensitive about your appearance?

Being an artist who desired to be a muse was your ultimate struggle before. And perhaps, even until today.

You never made a portrait of yourself, having more interest in other scenery you see — and never did you became anyone's art inspiration.

To the non-artists, this might not be a thought worth being sad about. You too, you tell yourself it isn't a big deal, yet it persists. There is an ache, a longing to be admired just as how much you used to admire those whom you painted.

You used to be saddened over the fact that no artist chose you— maybe because you are an artist yourself?

However, even after your candle of passion became unlit— even after the spark that used to shine so brightly began to lose its light, you didn't became anyone's object of admiration.

"Don't worry, I'll keep you company."

You heaved a sigh as you heard Capitano utter those words in a reassuring manner, resting your head to the backrest of the bus seat you're sitting on.

He must've sensed your nervousness, also with the fact that he knows what you've been through.

That's the reason why you rejected those other fine art students anyway, since you didn't want to be just become a muse because you're a part of the options.

They were tasked to ask exchange students to be their model for their project. None of them would ask you if you weren't one, and you hated that. Could it be your pride as an artist hovering over your mind, that you wished to be somebody's muse because they specifically chose you and not just because you happened to be there as an option?

And now you were asked again yet for the same situation— you weren't the first choice.

Is this petty? You honestly don't care.

How silly these emotions of yours, hindering you from enjoying being a muse for the first time.

The bus stopped and the two of you exits the ride. You walked with Capitano as he led the way, coming to a halt some minutes later in front of a black gate. He looked at you before hitting the doorbell.

You brought a hand to caress your own face. Your skin isn't exactly clear, though you do not have many blemishes either.

You've always been confident of your appearance, and you didn't know why. Is it because you truly are indeed beautiful, or where you just blinded because of the praises you've heard?

Yet whenever you look in the mirror, you can't help but to see your image turning uglier each second. Is what you see in the mirror what you actually looked like?

You breathed in and out, wanting to mask the nervousness you're feeling. Faruzan is pretty, would the artist be disappointed upon seeing a face inferior to hers—

Forget about that, because you are the one disappointed right now...!

You regretted getting swayed with Faruzan's words. You even asked Mona for an advice to strengthen your decision, and she also said some motivating words similar to Faruzan.

What a load of bullshit, you shouldn't had listened!

Because it's fine, yes, it would be fine.

This trip could've turn out good just as your friends say— if not for the man standing before you! This... is he the artist?

The moment he opened the gate, you glared at him from head to toe, in which he responded with a roll of his eyes, turning his attention to Capitano instead.

The same shade of indigo that ruined your mood at the time you first entered the university, the blind-hater man!

Honestly, you could brush that off as just bad day for both of you which led to a stupid argument, but the bad impression lasted!

Whenever you see him around the campus, there's just this underlying vibes around him that ruins your mood. So even if you both ain't having a conversation, it's as if you are being brought back to that argument and you can't help but to feel the annoyance all over again.

And therefore strengthening the bad impression.

You followed after them as they entered his... kind of a huge house.

Of course, of course. Students at that goddamn university are rich, it's no wonder.

You eyed the interior, a minimalist design yet it looks extravagant due to the high-end materials. High ceilings, big chandeliers— his living room is grand and sophisticated space. The walls are in neutral colors, decorated with many paintings...

Oh.

Are these his works? They are... beautiful.

Not just beautiful, but breathtakingly beautiful.

Every pieces are paintings of abstracts and places, and there are no single painting of an image of a human.

The scenery looks realistic though, are portraits just not his forte? Or maybe he just didn't displayed them.

You got too absorbed at staring at them that Capitano had to tug you forward. His gentle hold brought you out of your reverie, continuing to follow after his friend.

"What even is his name?" You asked in a whisper.

"Oh right, you didn't get to be introduced properly." He nodded at himself, "Scaramouche is his name," then he called his friend's attention, "And she is [Name]."

...That turned awkward, just for you maybe. 'Scaramouche' just nodded his head and so did you.

When he opened another door, you almost drooled at the sight. Because why wouldn't you— it is his very own art studio inside his home! It's huge and definitely pleasing to look at. There are many paintings on the floor and some are hanging over the wall, all of the pieces are masterpiece! There are an unfinished sculpture of a head on one of the tables, charcoal drawings on paper, sketches of anatomy, movable wooden figure, and more.

Despite not liking him, you hold a respect to every artists. Not to mention, one look at his studio and you could tell he is talented...

You had to contain your excitement.

It's not like you're hiding that you are an (ex) artist, but you also do not want to show hints or tell that you are one, especially that you have nothing to show.

You would rather keep it that way, people not having an answer whether you are or not an artist— except for those who already know, of course.

"Pardon me, [Name]." You looked over to Capitano who has an apologetic expression on his face. "There happen to be an emergency, I'll leave you to Scaramouche's care."

You just nodded, Capitano had always been a busy man. You watched as he converse with the said man before he gave you a small wave, walking away.

"Stay here."

'Scaramouche' said, and you were left alone in his very own art studio.

You sat down on a stool, probably the seat he prepared for Faruzan. With a frown, you looked around.

Your heart raced as your eyes met your own pair of eyes, the full length mirror in front of you glinted in an ugly way.

You felt frozen in time. Is it because you would be exposed to an artist's eyes who would look at every detail of your appearance so he could draw it, the reason why you felt so bare in your own vision?

It was as if suddenly, you appear naked in front of everyone— drowning in their uncomfortable stares that ran through your insides.Your skin is getting ripped the more you stare at your own reflection, and you feel so exposed to the point that every nook of your face became visible in your eyes.

Since when this started, really? Where you no longer feel beautiful at every angle, as if your features are becoming distorted.

Ah, right. The people who compliments you are non-artists. You used to be one and yet you never drew yourself, and now you feel so imperfect and full of flaws. Maybe because you're aware of the truth.

Maybe this is why you've only became a muse now of an artist who had no choice but to draw you— you are indeed pretty, just not pretty enough that people wants to keep looking at you.

An art is supposed to be beautiful in every way, a masterpiece people enjoy looking at.

You, are not a piece worth staring at.

You are not designed to be a muse in the first place— and you no longer had the skills to paint.

Everyone is either an artist or the art, so now, where do you stand?

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note. im back yippiiieeee hello yall ^^

taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej @eutopiastar @keiiqq @bananasquash @kuniisvt (i cant tag those in bold ;(()

#genshin impact #kabukimono #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #wanderer fanfic #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #wanderer smau

[rokirokiro]

Love Declaration Imp♡ct

Wanderer. he goes by many names. Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche the Balladeer, and the list goes on. but people certainly recognized him as your companion. how couldn't them? he's always there, watching over you. no matter the time and place, he'd just groan as he follows you from behind since Nahida told him to be more 'social', and the person had to be you. since you're the most bearable mortal in the whole Akademiya. smh.

♡!

I say he's the man with thousands of apparent emotions, yet he'd bring all that 'pathetic feelings' to his grave. he feels too much! which is also the root of his problems. and one of the people had to be you, for some reason. he'd KILL to erase this 'embarrassing' feelings, yet he can't. and it frustrates him on how much his nonexistent heart beats when you smile at him. on how his empty puppet body feels a tingling sensation of nervousness and warmth (as if he had any) when you invited him to do something. the fact that you recognized him, and be casual with him. it's so rare to see someone who's this positively unfazed with his presence, and this rarity makes him feel uncomfortable.

yes, love is so uncomfortable. he used to yearn for it, stays away from it, and now being chased by it. he's in absolute shambles from the very moment his Mother created him. his love life is disastrous even before he learns world.

Σ>―(OTW)♡→

he'd try his best to avoid love at first. to avoid you. to get rid of this haunting feelings that made his sleepless nights insufferable. like how he did in his Fatui era, when he was corrupted.

but he can't

he realized that he can't stand without you in front of him, guiding him to light. he's too used to see you that it felt so uncomfortable without you with him. the nother feeling without you feels even worse, as if his cold puppet body was impaled with a massive spear and left a huge hole in his chest. absence makes the hearts grow stronger, and the strange feeling is here to confirm.

it feels like the fourth betrayal, and he betrayed himself by pushing you away.

and of course, he's so egoistic over himself too. he'd convince himself that it's just a simple three words muttered to one another, nothing more, nothing less. he acted cool with it, when he's invisibly not.

he's scared

scared of rejection, scared of the aftermath. what if everything goes wrong? what if you were just being friendly to him? not that he have a full experience with having an actual friendship anyway, it's been centuries. other than Nahida, the Traveller and Paimon and the rest that he considered even lower than an acquaintance.... nah

he's hopeless.

but giving up never existed in his dictionary, never giving up in achieving new experiences as Kabukimono, never walked away from the experiments to become a god as Kunikuzushi, and he'd certainly never giving up in his feelings as Wanderer.

and so he spend months to think. yes, months.

he wanted to make the best surprise in the world, to show you how much of an awesome guy he is. to make your jaw dropped and face full of surprise. to make you his in an instant

and at last, he choose to go on the cliche route, choosing a place related heavily to the both of you since he just LOVE symbolism. he does, he told me just now.

◌⑅⃝ ♡⋆♡CONFESSION♡⋆♡ ⑅◌

he'd come to you at the end of your class, which is weird! you were always approaching hin first! and it had you rose your eyebrows slightly at his act

he'd propose that he wants to bring you somewhere nice after-school since 'college is suffocating him and wants to bring you to sniff on fresh air so you better be thankful' in this somewhere. and given the odds, you agreed

he made sure to hold your hand.

he offered his hand like how he offered you his affection.

and so the both of you walk out of the cultural building, every steps engraved in his history, it's all precious. every moment will forever be his favorite memory, or the most loathed one. because he too is imperfect, a 'plain and simple words of rejection' would shatter his artificial body completely.

"here we are" he said. and your eyes would be looking at the beautiful scenery on the hidden parts of Sumeru, the soft wind blowing your uniforms. while you were fascinated by the picture, he'd be mesmerized by you. the scenary is beautiful, but he's too busy looking at you

oh how beautiful you looked, your pupils dilated at the sight of nature, and the wind is being too good today to be an actor for your beautiful blowing hair/hijab. your soft skin, and those haunting smile leaving him sleepless at night...

you're utterly beautiful.

his artificial hand would tremble in your touch, the nervousness strikes at the best times before the climax. he hated himself about it, but he can't effort to pay less attention to you either

he then heard you saying that you remembered this place, of course you would. this place is your first time meeting him, getting each other's eyes interlocked with each other, not knowing what to come next

if he tell his past self that he'd fall on his knees for this person he's holding hands with, his past self would laugh at him.

"of course you would, me too" he said in a soft and low tone "I'll never forget the place that changed me forever"

"forever?"

"forever."

"how so?"

he paused, just taking you in for a moment before he began to open his mouth

"this is where I found my heart, one that I yearned for 500 years"

"oh?"

"and the heart-"

he's then brought your hands to your chest, feeling the heartbeats beneath the layers of flesh and bones

"-is here, right in front of me."

(｡’▽’｡)♡

he goes by many names ; Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche the Balladeer and more and more.... .. but for now and forth, he'd forever be known as your lover

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #wanderer #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #kabukimono #kunikuzushi #scara

[sunjinjo]

Feast your eyes on this absolutely gorgeous (and delightfully sadistic) new ✨fanart✨ from Lumier for Splendorous Skies, drawn alongside me writing the newest chapter!

Sometimes to go forward on your quest, you need to get yourself a little shattered. Or maybe those guiding you don't have the best of plans, even though they know the way so well...?

Chapter 12: Dahri

The Wanderer and his Pari companion follow the leader of the Skeptics to the final Great Song of Khvarena.

Sorush pointed a wing at his fallen form, the pulse of his Vision so slow and subdued. “Carry him, Vijnanapati. The Bloomguard commands you.” The Skeptic bowed at once. “As you say, Lady Sorush.” He crouched down, carefully slipping his hands around Kintsugi’s waist and knees, scooping him up against his chest until the puppet’s head lolled to rest against him. His eyebrows rose minutely. “…Sosi was right. He is very light.” “He will not be a burden,” Sorush nodded, unable to banish the urgency from her voice. “Let us depart.”

#genshin impact #wanderer #nahida #kabukimono #genshin #genshin fic #genshin wanderer #genshin impact fanfic #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #pari #sorush #sumeru desert #mended with gold #nasejuna #Instagram

[narcissarina]

“𝚈𝚘𝚞... 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.”

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.4ᴋ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs/ᴛᴀɢs: ᴀɴɢsᴛ! ʜᴜʀᴛ sᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴛ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜs, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇʀs ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴇʀᴀ (ғʀᴏᴍ 500 ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ), ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴋᴀʙᴜᴋɪᴍᴏɴᴏ ᴄᴀʟʟs ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜɪs ᴍᴏᴍ♥︎), ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ғᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴋᴀʙᴜᴋɪᴍᴏɴᴏ, sᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ, ᴋᴜʀᴏɴᴏsʜɪ, ᴋᴜɴɪᴋᴜᴢᴜsʜɪ, ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇʀ, ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ, sᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀ!! ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡᴇsᴛ ᴛʀᴀɪʟᴇʀ ғʀᴏᴍ ғᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇᴄʏ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴅʏɪɴɢ/ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜs! ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴏʀ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ sᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀs. ғʟᴜғғ + ᴀɴɢsᴛ.

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏsᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴏᴅs, ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇғᴜʟʟʏ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀss. ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴜᴘ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ ᴄʜɪᴇғ sᴄᴏʟᴅᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴀʀʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ʙᴏʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. ᴇᴠᴇʀ sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ, ʜᴇ ɪɴsɪsᴛ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʟᴘɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴀsᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴇᴅs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ɴᴏʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏɴ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀsᴋ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴘᴜᴘ ʜᴇ ɪs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟsᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴏᴅᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ᴏᴡɴ ᴀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɴᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ, ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴋᴀʙᴜᴋɪᴍᴏɴᴏ. ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ʜᴇ sʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ “ᴍᴏᴍ” ᴏʀ “ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ”, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ. ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ ᴄᴏsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴋᴀʙᴜᴋɪᴍᴏɴᴏ?

ᴀ/ɴ: ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴛʜɪs, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ ʀs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇʀs ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴇʀᴀ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜɪs ᴍᴏᴍ? ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ʜɪs ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴇʀᴀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛɪᴄᴇ, ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜɪs ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʟᴏʟ. sᴏ ɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜɪs, ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴇʀʀᴏʀs ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴏᴏᴋɪᴇs;) ᴅᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ғᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇ ǫᴜᴇsᴛ ʏᴇᴛ ʙᴄ ᴍʏ sᴄʜᴇᴅ ɪs ᴘᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɪs ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ɢʀʀʀʀʀ. ᴅɪᴅ ɪ ᴄʀʏ? ʏᴇs, ʏᴇs ɪ ᴅɪᴅ.

It’s funny how you got yourself in this situation, it felt like you adopted a puppy than a helper. What’s his name again? Kabukimono? Cute little innocent guy you took in. It was funny when he slipped up and called you “mom” or “mother.”

“Here, mom.” Kabukimono took the wood you have gathered, “let me help.” He insisted as a smile spread across his face, the sun illuminates with his smile as if the sun was also smiling upon him. You gave him a pat in his head, “I can handle this.” You assured and tried to get the log of woods back.

He took the logs and pressed it against his chest, as if he’s hugging it and not wanting to let go. He insist, he wanted to help you like how you helped him.

You could only sigh and pinch his cheeks gently, a soft sigh as you see him walk away with the logs, your eyes went a little wide when he almost trip himself—he turn around to face you from the distance and gave you a thumbs up. What a cute little guy.

After placing the log to its rightful place, he runs up to you and hugs you around the waist as you were taller than him, “very good, Kabuki.” You praise and caress the back of his head, feeling his dark purple hair. He beams with a smile like a ray of sunshine, you noticed that his sleeves were a little dirty.

“Did you trip into mud or something, dear?” you asked him with a worried you, also noticing that he had a little bruise on his left elbow. “I’m fine.” He said, his brows knitted together as he doesn’t want you to worry too much about him.

“How about you?” he tilts his head, his arms still around your waist and his chin resting on your chest—where he can happily hear how your heart beats, you don’t know why but he said that hearing it beat makes his mind at ease.

A yell was heard from the distance, it was the village chief. “Kabukimono!” he called out for the boy, “coming!” Kabukimono yelled as he looks up at you again, meeting eye to eye as you brush a strand of hair away from his baby soft face. He looks like a sad puppy when someone needs him, where he’ll be only a few minutes away from you.

“You planning on going?”

“But I don’t want to leave you.”

“It’s ok, I’ll take it from here.” You assured and kissed his forehead—sweet, soft, and gentle. Just like how he loves it. He nodded and was now off the run. He was running happily as he help the village chief bring and sort some supplies for the people.

Look at that sweet child! Always helping other people when they need him, you always see him hanging around the blacksmiths. Helping and learning to make iron weapons and chatting with the other boy there, his name? You didn’t get to know him but all you know that Kabuki was always on his side, maybe a friend?

Sometimes, his naivety and willing to help always worries you. His willingness and wanting to be helpful… you can’t form a word to it, because sometimes you’ll hear him say weird things nor that some insult was a good compliment. As if, you worry that he’s easy to manipulate.

Maybe you worry too much, but it’s better to worry when that kid seeks your presence, sees you as his “mother” and wanting to be held close to your warmth. He’ll politely ask whether he could even cuddle with you to sleep.

In your sleep, you were blessed by the gods above, the heavenly principle—Celestia.

“What does it do?” Kabuki asked, poking the hard glass of the electro vision where it’s hanging on your right side of your chest. You could only chuckle when he observe and awe when you match your clothes to your vision before he catch your waist again and nuzzle his cheek against the fabric of your new attire, “soft.” He murmur and deeply inhale and exhale as he buried his head in your chest.

“To answer your question, my dear Cecilia.” You pressed your lips on top of his head and pinch his cheeks as he holds himself close to you, as if he wants to be part of you on how he’s being passive-aggressive, “It’s a vision, given by Celestia when you are acknowledged by them.”

“It’s purple.”

“because it’s an electro vision.”

“you can choose visions?”

You want to laugh at his remark, but seeing how dear and innocent he is—you hugged him tightly as he is hugging tightly to you, you answered, “No, you can’t choose visions, if Celestia gives me that option then I could’ve picked the anemo vision by now.” You laughed.

“why didn’t you?”

“Because I can’t, Kabuki.”

“a certain vision will only be given, maybe it’s because of ‘the key is people’s desires.’” You added and patted his back, “why don’t you go and play?”

“I rather take care of you.” He murmur against your chest, not moving or even budging one bit as if he’s glued into you. “please.” There it is, the eyes that he knew you love so much, that you can’t even say no to him. He knows this.

“You haven’t taken your medicine, again.” He slightly frowns and rest his chin against your chest, his brows knitted in genuine worry. You smiled sweetly at him, “It’s hard to have a grab of a medicine nowadays, dear.” You trace your fingertips along to his hair, soothing his head as he let out a soft sigh against your touch.

“You need to be in shape or else the chief will scold you again.”

“I know.”

“Take your meds then.” He buried himself yet again against your chest.

He’d be like a lost puppy with you, everywhere you go—he’ll be there to follow.

Every sight and venture to the woods, he’ll be there to prepare your needs as he wants to look after your health.

After all, you are an ill person, a sick vision holder. And since he learned that vision has powers, he is worried to you as you are worried to him.

In the night, when the stars are visible—he will ask you to come join him stargazing, simplest things and small gestures makes him happy. Nothing too fancy, nothing too big nor small. Just you and him, under the stars till the two count a thousands of stars.

You were everything to him. And he was everything to you, as if the world had gone small and only left the two of you.

Would a day come where you have come to meet your demise? As this happiness and endless of laughter with this sunshine has been a little too good to be true. As if, the sun was smiling too much upon the two of you.

Was it smiling? Or was it mocking?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

You were making some food and cutting up fruits, accidentally cut your index finger and hiss brought Kabukimono’s attention to you as he hurriedly got up to you, “Are you okay, mom?” he asked as he confusingly stared up at you when you brought your bloody finger uo to your mouth to suck the blood out.

“I’m fine.” You stated, almost a muffle as you suck your own finger off. You glance at your ingredients and you lack of Lavender melons, “By the way,” you pulled your finger back from your lips and got to the nearest pond to wash your finger, “Can you find me more lavender melons, Kabuki?” you asked of him. He nodded and sat beside you when you wash your finger off, you smiled and mouthed that you are fine.

He was worried, but did what you asked as you assured him you are fine.

He had picked a few Lavender Melons, some trees were a little high for him to reach—resulting him to use one of his sandal and throw it at the melons. After a few fail attempts, the melon falls as he quickly got into his feet and caught the falling fruit that might explode when falling from a very high surface.

He was… messy. Dirt around his white kariginu outfit with a lavender veil, somehow, he didn’t pay attention to his dirty attire. All he thinks about was the delicious food you’ll be making and desserts with these fruits, even he, himself knew that he doesn’t need food to full himself nor get energy from them. Why? He’s a puppet, of course.

Does he feel bad when you prepare him food even though he doesn’t need it like humans do? No, in fact. He enjoys the food you made for him, he loves your cooking and loves it more when you eat with him while he listens to you talk.

The fact that you sent him out to gather a few lavender melons for ingredients, it delights him that you stay at home while he is useful and helpful to you. He was delighted that you found him first and took him in.

You treated him with kindness that he never knew needed nor know about it, he felt like he could trust you completely—but doubt crawls over to his mind, if he told you that he’s a puppet. How would you react?

Would you hate him? Throw him away? Tell the whole village that he’s not one of you? Would you turn your back on him and leave him behind? Abandon him?

A lavender melon fell onto his head, snapping him back to reality. It looks like he zoned out for a bit. He brush the back of his head and chuckle to himself, keeping a positive energy and took the lavender melon to his arms as he stood up and hops his steps back to the village.

How delighted he will be when he comes home having two to five lavender melons he had taken… and thanking the tress for it. He loves hearing your praises when he did something good and that made you smile, he would cling and watch you slice those fruits up and feed him a slice and make a little mini jump of excitement.

It was a nice walk way back, he swung open the door and greeted with a huge smile in his face, “Mother, I’m back!” he yelled and run up to you on the table where you bandage up your small cut wound.

Your smile and the touch of your warm hand was the small thing that’ll keep him happy, your voice that’s been singing praises will play in his ears as you acknowledge his help and usefulness, “Very good, Kabuki.” You place a quick kiss against his forehead and took the lavender melons from his arms.

“Kabuki, how about you go help the chi-”

You fail to form your sentence as screams were heard outside, your heart dropped. Fear overcomes as you move by instinct and pulled Kabukimono by his arm, directly going towards to the other door where you go out and train with your wooden dummies. You look back and see to him, those screams…

He was terrified.

“W-What’s happening..?” He manage to ask, his tone mix with confusion and concern. You wanted to get away, get Kabukimono away from this horrors. Turning sharp to the corner, a sharp breath caught to your throat—as if you have forgotten how to breathe. What did you see?

Someone, you tried to push Kabukimono away from the scene—trying to turn his back away but it was too late, he had already witness a horrifying scene that will haunt him every night.

A village person, dead, on the ground. Their eyes were bloodshot as if they are shredding blood as their tears. Crimson blood dripping down from their forehead as they lie lifeless to the ground—their head to the side as if they’re staring at the both of you, as if they’re saying, you’re next.

You and Kabuki were hiding behind your small house, having the shadow covers up the two of you, to not be revealed by some monster, or rather. A unwelcomed guest in the village, who has come bring chaos and bloodshed within the village, your home.

You turn to Kabuki, he was confuse—he does not know why there’s crimson in that persons head, dripping down as they lie lifeless in the ground with their own pool of blood, you palm his cheeks, forcing a smile as you tried to steal his gaze away from such horrifying scene.

“Kabuki, dear, listen. I want you to do something for me, hm?” you try to remain calm, not wanting to scare the boy who has his gaze on you. His brows knitted together in worry, his eyes visibly scared on what he had witness. You grab a hold of his forearm as you got on one knee to kneel down, your eye to his, “Everything’s going to be fine, I want you to run and get help.” You kiss his forehead.

“what about you?”

“I’ll buy you time, I can fight after all.”

“You’re still not in good condition.”

“I know,” you smiled and stood up—cupping his cheek as you pull him in an embrace, “But I’ll be fine, now go.”

He nodded but his eyes darted to another person that’s been getting chase down, sword pierce right through them as a bloody scream escape from their mouth, coughing blood as the sword was retrieve—leaving that person in their own pool of blood.

He could only close his eyes and tighten his arms around your embrace, he wants to cry, to yell, but he needed to do what you said, get help. He thought of coming to the shogun and ask them for help.

Pulling away as he ran from the opposite direction, those “guest” noticed the boy as they try to come after him, you block their direction as you pulled out your bow—merging your element to form an attack. Buying Kabukimono some time to run.

He saw you fight one on one or more, you were going on defense more than offence, his can feel his skin shudder and his heart and mind race with worry. He wants to help you, but he needs to get help.

Kabuki ran, he ran as tears were filling up his vision and try to get help—but his mind wanders back to you, what if you get hurt? What if something worse happens to you?

These thoughts what made Kabuki stop his tracks, would he want to go back and ignore your favor don‘t get you out of there, he wants you to run away with him.

And so, he ran back. And the moment he did, he witness something that terrified him most.

“Mother..?” he called out, his eyes wide and his brows knitted with worry as tears were starting to form in his eyes. You rest your back against the tree as you sat with your own pool of blood, breathing heavily and your eyes heavy.

He ran towards you, tears rolling down his cheeks as he held you by his arm—cradling you like how you cradle him, he inspect your injury, your right hand covering your stomach to the side, trying your best to stop the bleeding.

Your half-lidded eyes darted to his worried and scared gaze, you could only smile and took your right hand off of your bleeding figure and use it to cup his face, staining him with your warm blood.

“There you are.” You manage to utter weakly, trying to manage that lovely tone that he loves so much. “It’s ok, I’m still alive.” You assured, wiping a tear off of his cheek using your thumb. You took something off of your shoulder, your vision then a paper, probably a letter. “Have this, open the letter when the time comes.”

Time? What time? He could only ask himself in his mind, what can he do to help you? He felt so low.. so vulnerable and helpless, as if he failed serving and following you, help. “H-Help..” he manage to voice out, “I n-need to get you help.” He says and kneel as he tries his hardest to get you on his back, but you didn’t budge.

“It’s ok… It’s just a small wound..” Small? It can’t be that small when you’re losing too much blood and when you’re desperate trying to get air as you were breathing heavily, “you were the best thing that has ever happen to me, Kabuki.”

He could only weep, bury his head against your neck. Trying his best not to cry out loud, you patted his shoulder in a weak manner—as if you’re slowly losing energy. He noticed that the light of your vision is slowly fading, but he pay no mind as he’s only focus on you and you alone.

Tears keeps coming as they slide down from his cheeks then drop to your cheeks, your thumb always wiping them off as his glassy eyes stared to yours—you were wasting your last energy talking to him and wiping off his tears and telling something humorous, to make him laugh right? You could hear him make a few slight chuckles in between his silent sobs.

He has you in his back, carrying you all the way to get help to the shogun herself—telling him sweet nothings as he communicates with you, thinking it’d be a good idea to keep the conversation to keep you entertained and alive. Help is on the way.

“W-We’re here!” he exclaimed, his legs almost going to give out on how much items you carry within your attire, “h-hey..” he called and nudges you lightly, to his horrors. You weren’t responding. He gently lay you down to the ground and held you in an embrace, tapping your cheeks and shaking you gently, “M-Mom..?” His heart dropping, his eyes widening and his breathing becomes rapid.

“H-Help..” he choke on his words, he screams for help—grabbing people’s attention to him as they saw the poor frightened boy covered with your dried blood—messing up his kariginu robe, along with his lavender veil as tears fails to form in his eyes, seeing that you are now lifeless in his arms and now that your vision is no longer glowing, no more life.

Time slows down, as if people are moving slowly around him—sounds of panic and urgency became a muffle as his own ears ring and his breathing rigged. He could only hold on tightly to the vision that has lost its light, as it felt like it died with you.

With you gone, he doesn’t know what to do—what task he’ll help with or errand to run. With the village turns to a bloody ruin, an unwanted war brought to the peaceful environment. He found himself in front of your bed. Where you and him cuddle to sleep, where you tell him little stories to help the two of you to fall asleep

“Gone.” He mutter, his tone flat as he’s tired. So, so tired. He misses your touch and warmth, your voice and your lovely smile that greets him every time he ran home after finishing an errand. He missed your presence, so much.

Your scarf around his neck, sniffing your scent in it—if there are still that remains. He crawls in bed, hugging his knees together as he look at the bedside table, a picture frame of you and him; smiling. Finally, he finally shred one last tear, as he hug himself to sleep. He imagines that you are here with him, in bed. Cooing him, soothing him, assuring him, that everything will be alright. He imagine that you were humming him to sleep or telling him folktales, how your hand on his back as you caress him to sleep.

But now? He’s alone, your poor Kabukimono, hugging himself to sleep as he pretends you are still with him. Silent sobs escapes from him as he falls from a deep slumber.

And thus, how his life began, or how his life began to be a living hell. To be an experiment.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Five-hundred years, it has been that long. For him, and that’s how long you have been dead.

The poor boy has been through so, so much… Pain, misery, despair, loneliness, betrayals, and how he witness humans and his surroundings evolve to something new every year.

He became an experiment to The Doctor, a fatui harbinger, and needless to say that he had gone through many names.

Kabukimono, the boy who you once adored. A naïve and helpful child that who is willing to do anything that you ask.

Kuronoshi, then Kunikuzushi—where he starts his vengeance where he was betrayed three times and saw the ugliness of human society, yet he desire to be one of them. But, in this case, he doesn’t know whether to take your ‘death’ as a betrayal, as in every era he pass through—he would always thought of you.

Then comes The Balladeer, or Scaramouche per say. He became a fatui, he became a cruel and cunning harbinger—the boy who you couldn’t even recognize anymore, as he was experimented many times to the promise of the divine power, that made him lose himself in sole way. But he only desire a heart of his own, if only he wasn’t a puppet.

Shouki no Kami, who he has been use as the subject and has the power to rival Teyvat’s gods, and is known to be an artificial divinity, but alas, he was defeated by the Goddess of wisdom—Nahida, due to the loop she did to defeat him. But he soon enough when he gain consciousness after his coma, he agreed on helping Nahida to some way in Irminsul—thus him removing his past to the world.

But at some point, he never did erase the him you met in the past first five-hundred years, he only kept Kabukimono in Irminsul. As if, his own mind couldn’t erase you. He wanted to hate you despise you and curse you for leaving him. But he didn’t understand the concept of death, he didn’t understand.

All he knew, is that… you were a wonderful experience…

In which now, he became ‘Wanderer’ that the people in Akademya and the traveler knew now.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

His arms crossed and his eyes close as he rest his back against the wall, feeling the cool wind hit him. A flying companion and blonde traveler approach the boy who seems to relax on his own, “Teyvat to wanderer!” the flying ‘thing’ spoke to catch the boys attention, “what now?” the boy sigh and turn to the blonde traveler. His peace of mind was disturb by a certain someone, he was busy—busy reminiscing the past.

“Oh.. So you’re heading to Fontaine next?” Wanderer raised his eyebrow, arms still cross against his chest as he spoke in a surprise tone. The flying ‘thing’ nodded, who’s name is Paimon, “uh-huh! Nahida says we should take you with us.” The traveler nod and smile, “she says you need some time off and come with us to enjoy Fontaine.”

He could only stare down to his anemo vision and fix his hat as a sigh escapes from his lips, “fine, I’ll come.” He agreed and gave a faint smile, “lead the way, traveler and Paimon.”

“Safe travels for the three of you, and keep an eye on Wanderer.” Nahida remarks with a giggle, “It’s not like I’m going to commit a crime or something.” Wanderer replied, the Goddess of wisdom only giggled and bid both Wanderer and traveler goodbye and wish them well for their travel to Fontaine.

The ride was quiet, his attention was at the sea where the view was just water. No mountains or such, as Paimon and traveler held conversation. His mind wanders back to you, always has been. He looks down at his vision yet again, palming it to his two hands and caressing the thick glass as it glows. He remembers how much you love the wind—how the cool breeze hits your skin and messing your hair, how refreshing it feels and more.

He remembered when you told him that you wish to have that kind of vision, but you were given an electro one. But it’s been five hundred years, that moment had pass and if he could, he would do anything to bring you back. If he had the power, he would demand even the Celestia to give you back to him. He miss you, it hurts him to admit it.

“Uh, hey Wanderer?” Paimon called out, still floating as ever even in the boat. He let out a small hum to answer Paimon’s call, “me and traveler thought that you’re too quietly, is something wrong?” a hint of concern in Paimons voice, he shakes his head and sigh. “It’s nothing,” he says, as he looks at the two then back to his vision, “I just miss someone that’s dear to me, that’s all.” He mumbled and put his vision back to his shoulder—where you too, used to put your vision from five hundred years ago…

“Huh?” Paimon puts her finger to her chin, trying to make out what the boy just said, “Oh!” Paimon nodded, “I get it! You miss someone you know that they hold dear to you,” the boy could only hum in response as the boat still sails towards their destination, “So uh,” Paimon turn to traveler then back to him, “Who’s this person?” she finally asked.

Before he could response, he says, “Oh look, we’re here.” He got up from the boat and look up to the view of Fontaine. Paimon groans and whines at the traveler for Wanderer not answering her question. The people of Fontaine are… unique as they have a modern like and advance technologies unlike other regions, this piqued his interest, but then again—stepping foot here felt like he will wish he did not come here or he was glad he step foot here.

Wanderer felt a sudden of uneasiness as he close his eyes and folds his arms to his chest, “Huh? What’chu standing around for?” Paimon asked, “It’s nothing, I just felt something heavy—like a sudden of uneasiness.” Wanderer turned to them, “It’s just probably nothing.” He gave a shrug and Paimon nodded, how her brows knitted together either a sense of worry or confusion.

“You say you two looking for the Hydro archon?” The boy asked and both traveler and their flying companion nodded, “I feel like you’re in luck, looks like the Hydro archon came looking for you two.” People came bustling and gathering, this is going to be interesting.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The following days has been… well, a roller-coaster ride, I suppose. It was one hell that the Hydro archon that goes by the name Furina. Lady Furina; which how her people address her, Wanderer was both surprised and shocked when that blonde traveler wanted to duel that god. You couldn’t even imagine how he noticed that the god was shocked and terrified.

He spent most of his time walking behind the big shots: Paimon and the blonde traveler, after all—these two has been awfully graced by the hydro archon herself, which makes them more and more of a celebrity if the archon themselves shows up for them.

But every walk, every click of his shoe, his mind still wanders—how he kept having this feeling, as if he was searching for something but couldn’t point it out, causing him to bump into Paimon and Traveler. “Heeey!” Paimon crossed her arms and turn to the seemingly-lost-in-his-own-thoughts-Wanderer, “Apologies.” He said, putting his hand onto his chest to show that he didn’t mean to and that he’s sincere.

Paimon huffs and puts her hand to her hips, “What has gotten into you, Wanderer?” she asked, Wanderer gave a few good pause before answering. “It’s nothing, I just got this feeling that I’m connected with someone here in Fontaine.” He sigh and turn his head to look at the signs of different shops.

“Oh? That’s weird. You’ve never been to Fontaine before, right?” Wanderer nodded to Paimons remark, “That was what I find odd too.” Wanderer express, his brows knitted—showing either he’s troubled or frustrated.

“Ooh! By the way, you forgot to answer my question!”

“What question?” Wanderer raised an eyebrow, silence filled the air as he made an ‘oh’ expression, “That question.” He said and nodded, “well, it wouldn’t hurt telling a little since it’s been five-hundred years.”

“There was this girl, she was like uh…” he cleared his throat first, folding his arms to his chest, “She was my mother, who treated me as her own.”

“Mom? Like your creator or something?” Said by confused Paimon, her eyes squinting as she looks at her blonde companion: the traveler. Wanderer shakes his head as a faint smile tug from the corner of his lips, “No, you misunderstood.”

“But, you say ‘mom’ then I thought you are calling your creator as your mother. Didn’t the Raiden Shogun created you… No, no. Raiden Ei, I believe.”

“You’re right, Ei created me.” He emphasized his creators name, “But you are still wrong,” both of his hand fell from his sides and shrugs, “Ei created me, I have every right to call her my mom. But she’s not my mom.” This causes Paimon to not understand more of it.

“Ei didn’t treat me as her own, abandoned me and left me to rot.” He pauses, then continues, “While my ‘mom’, the one whom took care of me and took me as her own is my ‘mom.’ Do you get my point now?” The boy tried his hardest to explain.

“She was human, you’d be surprise—of course, since the one who I call my own mother is a human while I’m a puppet.”

“it was indeed shocking that a human took you in, not to mention you call her your mom too.”

“Her name is y/n… Pretty name, yeah?” He chuckle, his brows knitted together as he recall the past, “She was a stubborn fool, always acting out before thinking.” He sighs, “But if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t become what I am now. Probably going to continue as a harbinger or a test subject.”

He looks at the blonde traveler, “And if it weren’t for you nor Buer, I wouldn’t realize that what I was in the past—she would probably be in shock.”

“why?”

“Because her precious Kabuki faded away, she wouldn’t recognize me no more.”

“aww.. Then what happened to her..?”

Sharing isn’t his best forte nor expressing something so deep to someone, it just hurts.. You know? The boy who longed for a mother and feel her love suddenly disappear right before his eyes as he watch you use your last breath. Your last breath where you did not regret wasting it upon him.

And so, the three sat by the nearest bench. He recall and tell the traumatic tale from five-hundred years ago.. How you two met, how it was going—how the your stories progress to a loving mother-son trope. Then, how he lost you..

As he tell his story, he couldn’t shred a tear. Maybe it’s because he’s now immune to the heartbreak and pain? Or maybe there’s no longer tears to shred?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Time passed, his face remains with that same expression ever since he started telling his sob tale. The traveler could only nod through the whole story, while Paimon cried and sob against the traveler’s shoulder.

3:00 pm.

Checking the time, he lifts his head up to look at the blue sky. The air picking up as he turns his gaze to the two companions, he spoke, “shouldn’t you both better be on your way?”

Paimon weeps, brushing her tears away with the back of her small little hands, “T-That’s so s-sad..” she sniffle, “She’s so nice and.. and..” the next sentence came out gibberish and Wanderer, the blonde traveler—couldn’t make sense of what this flying companion is saying.

He rolled his eyes and breath in, inhaling the air of Fontaine… or it’s just sweets that he smells? Oh, he hates sweets.

He used to love them, with you making them for him. He used to eat all the desserts you make just for him, and he will gladly share and eat them with you in the same table—in the same roof, where he used to call home.

It took some time to have Paimon come down from her overwhelming emotional burst from the boys story. “Didn’t we have some business with the shopkeeper?” Paimon turn to the blonde traveler in which the traveler nodded, the two stood up and asked him if he could join them, extra company wouldn’t hurt.

“oh? You want me to come?” Wanderer asked as he stands up from his seat, brushes the fabric of his shoulder and folded his arms. The two companions nodded with a smile, “It’s best to keep your mind off of a bit, a distraction from your thoughts… Maybe?” Paimon says.

Wanderer chuckle and returns the smile, “If you insist, then sure.”

The walk was nice, it did keep his mind off a bit from his thoughts and this memories because Paimon can’t keep her mouth shut, he only replies with a simple nod, shake, a simple hum and ‘ok’ to her as they finally arrive at the shop they’re suppose to have business with.

“An antique shop..?” Wanderer tilts his head, Paimon nodded and hum, “yup! We were gonna pick something up for monsieur Neuvillette.”

“The chief justice of Fontaine?”

“Yup, he’s the one.”

Slowly nodding to what Paimon said, the three step inside the antique shop.

Your antique shop.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

A familiar voice was heard when they entered the shop, the insides were well-maintained and cleaned. The aroma was sweetly refreshing, and the moment he laid his eyes upon the shopkeeper, he was confuse, surprised, and other emotions that he couldn’t explain—it was overwhelming.

“Hello! Welcome to y/n antiques, feel free to look around.” Your voice, that sweet melodic voice that used to sing for him—that used to look out for him and call him. He couldn’t believe it…

A vision? Anemo, probably a catalyst wielder and an antique owner.. You were alive, much healthier, not ill, full of energy and your voice filling the room of the shop.

“M… M-Ma…?”

“huh?” Paimon looks at the boy, whose face was troubled, full of question and doubt. “Are you alright, Wanderer?”

“I’m fine.” He cleared his throat and looked at the ground, shifting his weight and height to distract himself for a bit. Paimon nods and pay no mind to his troubled thoughts, “Uh, we’re here to pick something up for monsieur Neuvillette.”

“ah! I see, please give me a second,” you spoke with a delight tone and got under the desk to reach out to something.

How..? He thought, looking at you while getting the thing that Neuvillette asked for to the traveler and Paimon, neatly knotting a ribbon beautifully and giving it to the two.

Spending his days from the Akademiya, he know something about this… ‘reincarnation’ something about that, but.. How? He keeps questioning himself, after all these years you’ve come back, alive and well and living the life you dreamed of since the past.

He wanted to hug you, the urge too powerful but he remains in his position—not wanting to scare you, well, since… you don’t remember him. That’s reincarnation, sometimes.. Probably.

“…derer… anderer.. Wanderer..!”

A voice calling out to him when he daze out, finally snapping back to reality, “hm?” he hums a response, “you seem out of it, we got what we needed..” Paimon showed the neatly beautiful ribbon box to Wanderer, “Let’s go! We still have to show you around in the opera house and meeting the chief justice.”

Wanderer blinked and shakes his head, “.. no.. I’ll stay here.. You go.” He said unexpectedly, “you sure?” Wanderer was sure all right, Paimon nodded and sigh, “all right then, meet you later!” And so, the two companion waved and bid farewell to the boy.

“Oh! You’re still here, sir?” you chuckle, “how can I help you?”

“Nothing,” Wanderer replied, “o-oh..!” you smiled and dust off the old book on your hand, his eyes scanned the whole shop and sees that most antiques aren’t properly cleaned yet and some old tale books aren’t in their proper position yet.

It gave him an idea, an idea to get closer with you again, to feel you again. Starting from square one, as if—the universe gave him a chance to be with you again.

“It looks like you’re the one who needed help, miss..” he almost said your name, “y/n, I believe I already introduced myself, but it’s y/n. You are?”

His breath hitches and has this hopeful spark in his eyes, “… Wanderer… Nice to meet you.. y/n.”

დ➳დ➳დ↴

He loves you dearly, still sees you the same as ever. If meeting you like this even after a hundred or thousand of years passes, he wouldn’t mind meeting you over and over and over again. He’ll do anything to be with you, you bring him solace, a safe space and a comforting presence and home.

You only met him the first time here in Fontaine, but for him—he wouldn’t mind meeting you again and again, reincarnation or something. He’s glad he found you, and you found him unintentionally.

No, you don’t know this boy. But somehow felt a connection, as if. You already knew him from your past. As if, he was that little pup in your dreams when you woke up from your deep state of a dream.

He wouldn’t lose you again, no. He’d do anything to protect you like how you have protected him from that village attack. He’s… forever grateful, you haven’t changed much and he… misses you.

A part of him felt complete, like a beautiful tone was complete and the melodies you once sang now carries a different resonance and the past of your last life now fading off of his mind.

And if the prophecy were to be true, he'd watch this nation fall and save you, not wanting to see you die again before his eyes—not wanting to be left again and feel the ache of his... heart. For you, he will choose you over this falling nation.

Now, you’re with him. And he’s with you.

Side by side, capturing every moment with you.

If in the past, he was your wonderful experience and you were.. his everything.

#genshin impact #kabukimono #kunikuzushi #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche #genshin scara #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #wanderer #genshin angst #scara fluff #kabukimono fluff #wanderer fluff #kunikuzushi fluff

[scarasbaefy]

a thousand cranes

kabukimonos kindness.

; scaramouche/kabukimono

; something warm, g.neutral, not proof-read, taglist

note; i don’t usually (ever) write fluff or anything... but i was feeling different today.

Ⰶ 

every day, the kabukimono would leave an origami crane on your doorstep. of course, you didn’t know it was him. he’d carefully place the paper every morning before you’d wake up from your sleep. although you were confused, you couldn’t help but look forward to the small gesture.

on the 1,000th day of receiving a crane, you held the craft close to your heart, letting a smile creep onto your face for the opportunity of being able to make a wish.

you knew what you’d wish for, though. it was clear to you the moment you realized what the mystery persons motive was.

you wanted them to come forward and confess.

with the last origami in hand, you closed your eyes and whispered into the wind, “i wish to learn the identity of the person who has been leaving me these gifts.”

you were greeted by the kabukimono the moment you opened your eyes back up, jumping in fright from his unexplained presence.

the kabukimono held a kind smile. he was finally able to reveal himself after all these years of hiding behind the cranes. he was too shy to talk to you or even face you, so he decided to gift you a paper crane he had made. it was when he saw your eyes sparkle at the sight of it that he decided he wanted to continue to gift you the origami. but after all these years, he finally gained the confidence to show himself. especially after he had heard your wish. it’s only right to honor it.

you were in complete shock. when did he get here? he had never spoken to you since his discovery, so you found it odd for him to stand before you now after many years.

the questions and confusion left your mind, a smile growing on your face when he pulled out, yet another, paper crane.

Ⰶ

©2023 scarasbaefy do not copy, edit, or post my work on any platform.

taglist;  @ulquiorraswife @yevurin @lovingveliona @i-luvyuu  @x-aloeveraa-x   @mf-619lans @butterskyy 

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin #genshin impact #kabukimono #wanderer #scaramouche fluff #fluff #wanderer x reader #scaramouche drabble #drabble #fanfic #genshin fanfic #scaramouche fanfic #genshin x you

[kk43mi]

alr so if you’re okay with this kind of request i’d like to request a fic in which scara is afab!! i’ve seen many people headcanoning him as transmasc and it kinda grew on me :)) i think he’d be sub and enjoy oral but at the same time also less vanilla things like being tied up, restrained, blindfolded.. idk i’ll leave the rest to you :D

please feel free to ignore my request if it makes you uncomfortable! have a nice day or night<3

this idea is so good anon ! yes i also like to think he would like being restrained...hes always demanding you to eat him out and stuff omg i have so much thought into this. you also have a good day/night! excuse if this seems so messy, ive never written a trans fic... forgive me o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

jealousy┊scaramouche

PAIRING ┊trans!scara x softdomf!reader GENRE ┊ smut. WC ┊ 1.4k+ WARNINGS ┊ (in this case this is wanderer, but i will call him scara!) , praise , pussy eating(receiving and giving.) , needy scara , tied up , lowercase intended!!! SYNOPSIS ┊ partnering up with kazuha to work with your mission, scara gets jealous, thinking you were going to leave him for kazu...or maybe have more fun around kazuha. you and kazuha are good friends, always play fighting and joking with each other, scara cant stand the thought of you enjoying someone else, so he gets jealous and demands you to eat him out. A/N ┊ written by kam , hope you guys enjoy !

the bustling paths of inazuma were alive with activity as you strolled along, your footsteps in sync with the rhythm of the city. your mission for the day was to work alongside scaramouche, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment when you learned he had asked kazuha to accompany you instead.

"looks like it's just you and me today," kazuha remarked with a mischievous smile, his amber eyes sparkling. "let’s make the best of it, shall we?"

you nodded eagerly, having grown fond of kazuha's company over the past few weeks. his carefree nature always brought a sense of joy to any situation. as you embarked on your mission, you and kazuha engaged in playful banter and light-hearted teasing, each teasing comment met with laughter.

little did you know, scara was watching from a distance, his eyes following your every move. He couldn't help but feel jealousy rising within him. his blunt, cold demeanor masked a deeper vulnerability, and the thought of you enjoying someone else's company didn't sit well with him.

as the day wore on, scara’s jealousy escalated. he began to repeatedly mutter under his breath, his words filled with bitterness. "why is everyone drawn to her? can’t they see i’m right here?" he grumbled, unable to hide his frustration.

meanwhile, you and kazu were completely engrossed in your mission, unaware of scara’s growing resentment. the sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink as evening settled in, casting a warm glow on the city. the mission had been a success, but scara couldn't find any solace in that.

finally, unable to contain his envy any longer, scara confronted you as you bid farewell to kazuha with a hug. scaras features contorted with frustration, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and vulnerability. "why do you always have to seek attention from others? can’t you see i’m here too?" he snapped, annoyance evident in his tone.

taken aback by his sudden outburst, you looked at scara, his harsh words only fueling your confusion. "scara, what are you talking about? kazuha and I were just having fun. it doesn't mean I don't appreciate your presence. you paired me up with him, so why are you being like this?!"

"youre being wayy too fucking touchy with him! and exchanging jokes too like as if you dont have me." he crossed his arms, while he puffed his cheeks out, signifying he was irritated. "scara, were just friends and you know that! plus he already has lumine!" you put a hand on your hips.

"yeah but no need to hug him! if you want someone to hug, im here." his forehead popped a vein, clearly telling that he was pissed the thought of you hugging someone other than him. "ugh, im pissed off now. if you enjoy time with him more then get with him." and that made you scoff.

"scara i never said anything about enjoying more with him! look...are you just..jealous?" you came to that conclusion...why else would he be mad, he never acted this way before.

"im not jealous! it was just a violence impulse that took over for a second." he would scoff before shifting his hat to block his face. "so in other words, jealous." you couldn't help but chuckle, and in that moment, he roughly clasped your wrist.

"well im pissed and pent up now! help me." with an effortless grace, he swept you up in a bridal-style embrace, then lifted both of you, soaring towards the direction of your shared abode. "wha-" was the last word you said before he took off.

sooner or later, you both reached your abode, scara gently places you down, harshly grabbing your wrist again. "ah-scara that hurts." your wrist ached at the sides, but your complaints fell on deaf ears as he continued to pull you into the house, heading for your shared room.

you would sigh, before finally speaking. "what do you want? cuddles? kisses?" the echo of scaras firm footsteps resonated through the house as he led you to the room. he harshly pulled you into the bed with him. "eat me out." his words left your eyes open wide.

"seriously..? now?" you eyed at him, intertwining gazes. "im pissed about that kazuha dude, so help me out here!" he can already be seen taking off his garments, till the only armor left visible on him was his black under-suit. "hurry.." he would grab your head, lowering it down to his aching pussy, begging for you to lick and suck on.

"dont order me around." you push his hand off you with a sigh. "ill make it up to you alright..? even though it wasnt my intents to make you jealous.." you whispered the last part. "well then hurry up! need to cum, and we havent been able to do it for so long since you were so fucking busy with missions!" you let out a chuckle. "i know im sorry."

you would move the suit that would cover his heat, revealing his pussy, pustulating on nothing but air. "so eager to be touched already." "mmh hurrryy." he would buck his hips towards you, running out of patience. "now now, no need to hurry, lets make this more exciting for you, mkay?" you eyed at him, before heading to the nearby table stand, you deftly opened the drawer, revealing two soft, neatly folded cloths. with a quick and precise motion, you reached out and secured them in your grasp.

scara rubs his thighs together, looking so...excited. he was biting his lips as he couldnt contain his thrill, he always loved the thought of being tied up. "do you want to try th-" "yes, please." he said with no hesitation. to be honest, you didnt think he would be up for this, so, there you bind his wrists together and then secure a blindfold over his eyes. the thought of not knowing where you would touch next had aroused him so much.

before scara can even say 'hurry', you tongue was already on his clit. sucking and swirling the soft muscle on it. "mmghff~!" scara muffled out, shuddering in pleasure as he moans out. traveling both of your thumbs to his folds, spreading them as you glide your tongue sensually along it. emitting pornographic moans from scaras lips. thighs quivering from the way your tongue skillfully pleasures him.

bucking his hips towards your face more, you take this as in he wanted more...inserting your tongue inside while your thumb caressed small circles on his clit, it sent him into an intoxicating whirlwind of pleasure. eliciting moans here and there. his head thrown back as his hands tried to find something to take hold on.

scara could almost cum on the spot right now...just a bit more and..there you halt your movements. "huh..? hey, whyd you stop..." he would whine, bringing his own fingers to stimulate his clit, but you slap it away. "no touching yourself, plus, im all worked up too." you say and he can hear the sounds of clothes shuffling and falling onto the ground. "lay down." you commanded and he obliged.

and there, youre on top of him, you ass facing him, laid on top of his heat as his arms were secured around you, creating a 69 position. "do it together mk?" he nods eagerly and already starts eating you out like he hasnt eaten in years. your thighs trembles, but that didnt stop you from sucking his clit again. sucking, licking, and fingering his bud had him feeling satisfied, even forgetting why he was pent up in the first place.

moans emitting from your mouth due to the way hes sucking your clit, not even stopping to take a break. stimulating you so hard youre almost at your climax, but you hold it in, wanting to come together with scara. the smell of sex and sweat is filled in the air, tasting his sweet, sweet juices, the flavors dancing delightfully on your tongue. "nnghf! y/n...gonna cum..!" he mutters out, sending vibrations to your clit.

"together..!" were the last words you said before both of the individuals squirted on each others faces. sucking and lapping up the juices that were dripping out. moans and grunts escaping from your lips, and scara tried catching up with his breathing. he let out a sigh, his breath escaping in pants. wet patches staining the bedsheets.

getting off of him, you plop your worn out body next to his. "enjoy?" gently removing the restraints, you tenderly caress his soft cheeks "yeah, whatever." chuckling before kissing his lips. "im tired. lets sleep now." he would mutter out before snuggling himself to your neck. cuddling him to sleep. you guys were exhausted already and you could always clean up the next day. scara forgot all about kazuha, now his worries were gone.

requests open!

#genshinimpact #kk43mi #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #fanfic #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche #scara #kunikuzushi #kabukimono #wanderer genshin #genshin wanderer #smut #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanart

[chickenparm]

Amidst Daydreams(Scaramouche/Reader) - Part Three/End

It takes a village to care for a child, but how many to teach a puppet how to be a human? Just one is all he needs, it seems.

AO3 LINK Previous Part

Kabukimono!Scaramouche/AFAB!Reader 6,359 Words - NSFW m!Masturbation, non-consensual voyeurism, that last tag sounds worse than it is i swear, P in V, fingering, the softest smut this side of the mississippi

The puppet remembers the moment of his birth in startling clarity. The light searing his eyes, the heat burning his skin, every fiber of his being singing with the static euphoria of the lightning’s will. A will strong enough to forge him into being, piece by piece with a single-minded purpose. 

The puppet also remembers the moment that purpose is taken from him. When the impossibly heavy burden that weighs his entire body down is stripped away with fingers that delve into his chest. All at once, the sensation of divinity that could only be understood by someone crafted as its vessel leaves him in a choked sob. 

Or perhaps he’d been crying since the very beginning, since his first breath was taken through shuddering, redundant lungs. 

He remembers something akin to a second birth. His impossibly tiny world shaking and heaving with unknown force before once more his eyes burn. But there is no heat, there is no divinity, there is no gnosis tucked in the empty space at his breast where something should have been beating. There is only the amber light of the only home he’s ever known, wood groaning above and below. 

And footsteps - heavy, unbothered by the racket made as their heels hit the wooden floorboards. 

The puppet’s first birth is something harrowing, a constant stain at the back of his eyelids that he can’t seem to shake. But the second… Only happy memories reside there. Stacked high, one upon the other until the very top of the tower teeters with each new addition. With every ounce of his being, he clings to the hope that it does not fall. 

It doesn’t feel like a home at first. Even as he relishes the scent of tea leaves and something he’d later come to learn was human food. You’d been so patient, so kind when it was well within your right at the time to have denied any responsibility for him. And even as his mind worked sluggishly to piece together everything around him, only one thing felt stable in such a maelstrom. 

You. 

Knowing what he knows now, after an enlightening conversation with Niwa, the Kabukimono isn’t surprised he had latched onto you so quickly. With a little thought, he can pinpoint the exact moment that the emptiness in the cavity of his chest began to fill itself in with something just as powerful as the object that once resided there. 

The evening when he’d fallen apart for the very first time. When the memories of abandonment rang so strongly in his mind that he’s certain you could have felt them yourself - and you must have, because just as swiftly as it descended, so too did you sweep it away like the tears on his cheeks. Your hands were so warm. So unlike his own that hold a frigidness even when pulling blades from the forge. 

The very moment he collapsed against you, leaning into the easy embrace you offered in return, the echoes of his birthright were silenced in his chest. All that’s left is a feeling of fullness, of impossibly tangled thoughts and feelings that he hadn��t been able to decipher nor describe. As it settles between his ribs and among his nerves, he can only cling tightly to its mass and hope that it stays with him. 

It stays nameless and coveted until the frightening morning of your illness. Only then is he allowed the knowledge of what might be fusing with his very being. Love, explained in your own words, the best way he can understand it. Certainly, he has a vague idea of what love might be - he’s seen it in the way Katsuragi cherishes his wife. He’s witnessed it at the end of the day in the village when families come together and share their happiness with one another. 

Niwa’s explanation comes as an uncomfortable shock, but the light it sheds on everything makes the weight on his shoulders a little lighter. With the guidance of his teacher and friend, the Kabukimono is able to finally understand what’s going on.

A yearning to be in your presence, to share the uncertainties with life. The elation he feels at your side, the odd loneliness when he’s at a distance. Even with Niwa and Katsuragi, even with the tentative friends he’d made in the village, no one could ever bring him the solace that fell on his shoulders like the wisps of morning mist. 

And when he comes to a conclusion, murmuring the words in wonder, Niwa can only smile with his hands on his hips and an expression of pride on his face. 

As sudden as it feels from the outside, the Kabukimono knows that without a doubt, he’s been trying to love you this entire time. Now, he simply needs to figure out how.

Therein lies the problem that plagues him when he returns that afternoon to check on you. Unaware of his presence, you lay where he’d left you, buried beneath your blankets and looking so, so comfortable. Would you let him join you, he wonders while kneeling at your side, his palm flush against your forehead. 

Never before have you denied any of his attempts to be close to you. While before it had been an unknown, addictive sensation that he wanted to endlessly chase, now he understands its root cause. The thought of sliding between the sheets of your futon and conforming his body to yours is something he can’t quite shake, even as he’s forced to return to the furnace after the midday break. 

For the first time, he finds himself hopelessly distracted. Niwa seems almost expectant, but when he catches sight of the pinched look on the Kabukimono’s face, he doesn’t broach the topic. At least, not until they’re cleaning up for the evening and are preparing the forge for the work to come in the morning. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Is that what this is?” The puppet pauses in his mindless sweeping, pushing the dust around aimlessly in a way that does nothing to further their progress. Niwa’s hand wraps around the broom, easily tugging it from the Kabukimono’s lax grip. 

This frees the puppet’s hands up to cross his arms, fingertips flexing as he works through the twisting sensation in his gut. As he does, he murmurs his thoughts to Niwa. “My stomach hurts, my skin feels hot. It almost feels like I want to cry, but I know I won’t. Is it normal for my hands to shake like this?”

Holding one aloft, just to prove his point to Niwa, the tremors are easily visible to both males. Leaning on the broom, a fond sort of smile crosses the taller man’s face. “Of course it is. It’s not often that you love someone so deeply. I’d say it’s almost a one-in-a-lifetime sort of thing.”

Neither mention that his lifetime is so very long. It doesn’t feel prudent, considering the lightness of the atmosphere contrasting to the twisting of the Kabukimono’s stomach. Tucking his hand away again, he asks, “What should I do? Should I do what Katsuragi does with his wife-”

“Ah… Kissing them like that might be a little surprising.” The broom nearly hits the floor with how that question startles Niwa, but the man is able to catch it before wood clatters against stone. “The simplest option would be to just tell them. You talked about it, and got sent to me, so it wouldn’t be out of the blue for you to talk about your feelings.”

Even on a primal level, at his freshest in the world, the puppet was acutely aware of the apprehension that comes with facing rejection. After all, his first experience with this world was the bite of abandonment, of being unwanted. To hear something like that from you would likely spell out a death sentence - one that he wouldn’t bother to fight against.

Almost as if he’d read the Kabukimono’s mind, Niwa drops the broom he’d been trying to keep upright and instead claps both hands on the puppet’s shoulders. They don’t even flinch under the added weight, bearing Niwa’s sudden expectations quite easily. “If there’s one thing I know best in this world, it’s that not going after the things you want will only lead to regret. At least you could say you tried - and even if it’s not reciprocated, you know they won’t abandon you over it.”

“I thought you knew bladesmithing the best-”

“Not the point, Kabukimono. You can keep all your feelings for them inside if that’s what you want, but you’ll always be thinking about the possibilities. That’s just going to eat you up inside, turn you bitter and resentful. That’s not fair to either of you.”

Fair. The Kabukimono understood that rather well, one of the first things he’d learned. Not everything was fair, but it was up to the people involved to do their best to make it so. While the time to make his initial experiences right has long since passed, maybe it isn’t too late to try and do things right by you. 

Perhaps if you pushed, he would have. 

On his return home, you’re awake and moving around with the sluggishness of someone that still isn’t quite feeling up to par. At the sight of him leaning a hand against the doorway to remove his shoes one at a time, a smile spreads on your face - slow at first, then all at once when he returns the gesture. If you notice how shaky he is, you don’t make a mention of it. 

In fact, you make no mention of what you’d instructed him to ask Niwa about. It’s almost as if it’s been forgotten, pushed away now that it isn’t at the forefront and he isn’t pestering you about the intricacies of human relationships with one another. Any earlier than this afternoon, he might’ve been hurt at the dismissal, but Niwa’s careful explanation shed a little light on things. 

He’d embarrassed you. It’s a feeling he’s only vaguely familiar with, only recently coming to real terms with it now that he no longer depends solely on you for companionship. There’s no room for that sort of trepidation between the two of you, not while you understand him so completely. 

But it goes both ways, and he’s acutely aware of how you couldn’t even look him in the eye after he’d wheedled at you over rapidly-cooling Chazuke. 

With this knowledge, the Kabukimono carefully compartmentalizes thoughts of running at you full-tilt with the intention of kissing you until you melt in his arms like you do when he’s hugged you in the past. Instead, he focuses on the little joys of his day - success in forging, the new weapon that Katsuragi has been working on, the premise of a real sword dance on the horizon with its completion. 

And after his long-winded recount of the day, he finally notices the way you lean your cheek heavily into your palm, elbow propped on the table. Half-lidded eyes watch him with as much interest as you can muster, quietly asking little questions to keep him going. Even barely-awake, you still humor him and his excitement at simply being alive; yet another reason the cavity of his chest no longer rings hollow. 

When your eyelashes brush the tops of your cheeks for a little too long, he makes the decision to hurry you off to bed. Touching you for the first time since he arrived home is the sweetest joy, better than any candy or tea he could ever hope for. The weight of you leaning into his side as he ushers you back to your futon makes his throat tighten, anticipation for something he can’t place. 

“You know,” you start, letting him help you sit down in the softness of your bedding, “it’s strange. You haven’t hugged me yet - you always do when you come home.”

He supposes he hasn’t. While he wants to rectify that immediately, thoughts of wrapping you so tightly in his arms that the two of you sink together into one being are nearly impossible to fight, so too are there quiet reminders of why it might not be right. Because he just doesn’t know what it means to you, while he is painfully aware of exactly what it means to him.

Then your arms raise, reaching for him with an insistence for such a grave wrong to be corrected, and the Kabukimono falls into them like he was always meant to be there. 

Palms pressing into his back, you sigh pleasantly against his ear as his weight settles against you. All the greed in the world pales in comparison to the way he turns his face to press his nose beneath your ear to breathe in your scent. 

Breathing is unnecessary, initially only done with the purpose of interrupting his unnatural stillness. In this moment it holds a single purpose - the only way he can claim more and more of you in a way that won’t leave you reeling and wary of him. The shoulder his cheek is against shifts with the subtle movement of your head tilting to the side, almost as if you were offering for him to take and take and take and-

Too quickly, he pulls himself from your arms and struggles to find the correct words to explain himself. But you don’t ask for that, nor do you even seem upset. Perhaps it’s your illness, or maybe you don’t understand what he’d been doing, but you look at him with a vague dreaminess full of trust and familiar tenderness. 

Settling for the easiest course, he withdraws enough to have room to stand and murmurs just above his breath, “You should get more sleep. Humans need rest to get healthy again.”

“Thank you for worrying about me.” The slow drawl of your voice as you settle in is like the smoothness of his own blankets that cradle him soon after, wrapping around his body and trapping him with warmth and comfort. 

As he buries his face in his pillows to blot out the world, he has half a mind to burst back into your bedroom and exclaim that he’s quickly becoming convinced that caring about you is his sole purpose in this world. 

Perhaps his birthright was ripped from him because there was a greater task for him out in the world, one that involved him building a life that venerates you at the very center. 

—

The puppet dreams. 

At first it’d been only wisps of color, scents, sensations of warmth and comfort. It’s only after he spends time acclimating to the wide world that the images in his mind come into focus. 

The forge beneath a lavender sky, songs and stories that meld together into a single steady thrum that becomes indistinguishable. The sky radiating out from him in all directions, above and below, listening to his call as if he were meant to be among the clouds. The first sight of the blazing red of a perpetual maple in Autumn, leaves falling and regrowing in one hundred and sixty-eight cycles. 

A weight on his chest that’s painfully familiar in its scent and pressure. The softness of skin beneath his fingertips as he mindlessly drags them down a body that shouldn’t be so known to him. Darkness takes his vision as he relishes in the sensations of touch, scent, sound. It’s your voice, sighing names that he knows belong to him but he doesn’t understand why you refer to him in that way. 

And amidst it all, a pressure builds in him that he tries to grasp at, yet his hands are more occupied with tracing over dips and curves, squeezing at flesh that gives so sweetly between his fingers. Finally, finally he can open his eyes, and there you are. Perched above him, palms pressed to his chest to steady yourself, you look like the deity he might have been in the first moments of his life. 

That unfamiliar pressure shudders with a roll of your hips, searing heat gripping at him as your rhythm stutters. Your nails dig into his chest, unable to break his skin despite your urgency and his sick yearning for you to leave some sort of mark on him. There is already the sign of ownership on him, but perhaps with enough force you could overwrite it and claim him as your own.

The lungs in his chest rattle as he sits up, darkness engulfing once more but with a quiet familiarity. A dream, one that leaves him adrift and yearning for something he’d never experienced. Subconsciously, he gasps for breath to cool his nerves. The room feels stifling, but not nearly as much as the layers of fabric and blankets in his lap. 

Niwa had spared no detail, even as the man’s face grew red, so it’s not as much of a surprise as it might have been. The thought of loving someone physically is that that implanted itself into his brain, burrowing with the intention to wait until this very moment of weakness. The puppet can’t control his dreams, but even as he tentatively reaches for himself with a shaking hand, he doesn’t regret that they’re beyond him. 

The pillows beneath his head protest as he falls back into them, suddenly feeling boneless the moment the skin of his palm touches against the throb of his arousal. Instinctual but hesitant, his fingers wrap around it and squeeze, and a strangled sound tears from his throat against his bidding. 

Even the tentative drag of his hand from base to tip feels as if he’s grown intoxicated, the alcohol that’s never had an effect on him is unable to come close to the muddiness of his thoughts. Swallowing thickly, he spreads the beading moisture of his arousal and wonders if he’s doing something terribly, terribly wrong. 

Because only one thought whirls in his mind, one vision that’s been burned into the back of his eyelids. You, tangled in his lap, rocking your hips and branding him with unfamiliar sensations he just can’t recreate with five fingers and his palm, no matter how hard he squeezes. 

The blankets scatter as he rolls from them, stumbling to his feet with a sick sense of purpose. Your visage in his mind is blurry, the memory of your scent feels so far away. Just a peek, just a glance so he can finish this and find relief amidst the guilt growing in his chest. Niwa’s hesitance speaks volumes of how unwelcome this might be to you; it will be a secret he conceals for the remainder of his life. 

Padding across the hall, he silently pulls the door open just enough for his vision to be filled with your prone form. The blankets have been kicked away in your sleep, leaving you clad in your nightclothes that show a little more skin than he ever expected to see from you. Peace is settled on your features, and as his hand tugs at the strings of his pants to pull himself free, he wonders if you’d hold that same expression if you knew what he’s done. What he’s doing.

Just like before, the first pass of his hand is almost too much. Pain blooms from his lip as he bites down into it, the flesh giving beneath his panic. Waking you would be the worst thing imaginable, but that prospect isn’t enough to stop himself from jerking his hips forward into his curled hand. 

Your head is craned enough to show the line of your shoulder and neck, just where he’d not-so-subtly buried his nose only a few nights prior. The phantom memory of how your skin had smelled, how it had tasted on his lips when he pulled away and swept his tongue across them in the privacy of his bedroom. Both bring a sense of urgency and recklessness, barely stemmed with how his palm slaps over his mouth to stem the uncontrollable sound of his self-pleasure.

Perhaps he could get closer. The tatami would muffle his footsteps, allowing him to approach your form and bask in your presence. The proximity would be too much for his addled brain to handle, nerves already frayed at the mere prospect of gazing at you while touching himself like this. Holding himself back is paramount, and he forces himself to stay in place, even as he leans closer to the space in the door.

The wooden frame digs into his shoulder as he leans into it heavily, depending on the structure to hold him upright as his knees grow weak. The hand on himself is no longer his own, at least in his darkest thoughts. Instead it’s yours, stroking with far more confidence than he does, touching him openly rather than in a dark hallway that reeks of his shame. 

Each fluttering blink of his eyes brings a different image. Your face before his, close enough to share in his breath, your palm dragging along his skin. Your knees on the floor as you use your mouth in ways he can only imagine in this one heated moment. The arch of your back beneath him as he grinds against you, eyes growing hazy and unfocused at the prospect.

Would you make the same sounds he does? Choked-off and strangled in an attempt to hide himself, that is. He desperately wishes it’s the opposite, that you’d be loud and unfettered so he knew that he was making you feel the exact same sort of unknown ecstasy that he suffers from at his own hands now.

The mere thought of bringing you the sort of sensations he struggles through now makes his stomach clench, anticipation building toward the notion of simply making you feel good. He would do whatever you wanted, whatever you needed, so long as you let him chase it alongside you. Knowing your mind could be frayed alongside his own is a prospect that feels sweet on his tongue despite being a far-off notion.

One particularly angled thrust against his palm makes his eyes flutter, vision growing hazy as he loses track of himself for a moment. Desperately, he moans your name against his palm, breath humid against his own lips, and doesn’t register the mistake. All he knows is something is coming quickly upon him, fast enough that it tears through rational thought and reason. 

The scratch in his throat speaks of his wanton abandon, how careless he was in a single instance on top of a mountain of poor choices leading up to this very moment. 

This very moment that your eyes slide open, vision locking on to him in the crack of the door. You look further down and see how tightly he’s holding his mouth shut, how he hunches against the doorframe, how his hand has ceased the furious movements that had brought him so close to being free of this if not but for a single night. 

The Kabukimono doesn’t even shut your door as he stumbles back, tripping over his own feet in his haste to fade back into the darkness. It’s too little, too late - you’ve seen him and what he’s done, and there’s no coming back from something like this. Not with how wide your eyes had grown, how your lips had parted in surprise. 

Tears well in his eyes because of course they do. Once, you told him that they’re the physical manifestation of feelings too strong to be contained. As he makes it into his room and all but drags himself to the furthest corner from the door, they run down his cheeks and one finds its way to the tip of his tongue. These tears could be nothing other than the starkest regret, fear, terror for what’s to come. 

Making himself smaller in that corner is easy. He’s slight of build, capable of bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face into the blissful darkness in an attempt to keep the world at bay. Something so miniscule couldn’t possibly be of scrutiny by the world, yet he feels your eyes on him nonetheless through the door he’d forgotten to close in his haste. 

Sighing quietly beneath your breath, it sounds impossibly loud and akin to the sharpness of a sword cutting the air cleanly in two. It feels like a physical blow, slicing him to the bone as he buries his fingers in his hair to tug painfully. The wetness in his right palm smears across the skin of his forehead with the motion and he isn’t sure he could ever feel as dirty as he does beneath your gaze.

The tatami shifts beneath him, the sign of your approach and subsequent kneel down to his level. If you were to strike him, it would be well within your right, but the only sensation of touch comes in the form of your fingers wrapping around his wrists. With firm pressure, you pull his hands away from where he grips his hair harder and harder, nearly pulling it from the root in his spiraling panic. 

“Look at me.”

Hasn’t he done that enough? This goes unspoken, his unwillingness to acknowledge you seeping into his very being. No, he’s done far too much looking. More than he ever should have dared to do. 

Yet, you still don’t admonish him. Instead, one of your hands releases him temporarily, only to worm its way to his chin and pull him to look up at you. Even now, when he’s convinced that everything has been ruined, the most selfish parts of him take hold for one last lingering gaze at you. Just enough to take with him when he’s forced to leave.

But there’s no malice in your eyes, no anger. Not even annoyance as you blow a sigh from your nose and take in the sight of his tear stained cheeks and mussed hair, cheeks ruddy still in a combination of what he’s done and how he feels about it now. “Listen to me.”

The Kabukimono is always listening. At least, listening to you, that is. 

“What were you doing?”

Of course, you already know. But speaking it aloud must be the penance you’re demanding from him, and it’s with an impossibly shaky voice as he breathes out, “Touching myself.”

“Why?” And when he can’t answer, embarrassment taking hold of him so tightly that he can’t even expand his chest to speak, a visible pang of disappointment crosses your features. Once again, he’s let you down. Undeterred, you try again, “Were you thinking of me?”

So subtly that he’s certain it would’ve gone unnoticed if you still weren’t cupping his chin, he nods. What use is there in denying the obvious? The disappointment fades, and left in its place is a smile. It’s small, almost tentative in nature, but undeniably existing where it shouldn’t. 

“You’re terrified… Do you think I’m upset?”

“Aren’t you? You should be. Upset, angry, disgusted-”

“I’m none of those things.” And with a sideways tilt of your head, the smile on your face grows wider, a balm to his vision that’s still blurred with tears. “I’m actually… relieved.”

What? Relief barely registers in his mind as something you could possibly be feeling at this moment. Nothing that he’s done this evening would warrant you to feel any sort of relaxation, no matter the root source of your tension. His confusion must be palpable in the air, your tongue darting out to wet your lips and surely tasting it there. 

With great mercy, you let him find peace. “Do you feel something for me? Is this a physical reaction, or something more?” 

The Kabukimono has never hidden anything from you up until this moment. The only secret he’s held has been the damning existence of his impossibly heavy feelings. And with your blessing, your plea, he recognizes the only opportunity that will ever be afforded to him. Some might describe him as eccentric, perhaps even a fool if seen in the wrong light, but he’s far from an idiot. 

So with the last chance to fix things laying before him, he snatches it without hesitation. 

“It’s love. It has to be, I have never… will never feel like this toward another person.” When your smile doesn’t fade, neither does his confidence. It grows with each syllable he forces through his trepidation. “I can’t describe it. Without you I feel like I might die. Please don’t send me away, I don’t think I’d make it if you’re not with me.”

“Oh, Kabukimono,” You sigh almost longingly, leaning close enough that the scent he’s been craving overrides all his senses. From this close, your face near enough that he can feel the exhale of your breath across his lips, he’s certain that the only thing that exists now is you. He can feel your words against his mouth as you draw ever closer, “You don’t have to describe it. I understand it more than you could ever know.”

Kissing you feels like that dream of the skies. Weightless, abundantly free, opportunity to explore in every direction. The one he chooses is forward, leaning into you more and more until he’s on his knees and you’re on your backside, until he is the one slotted between your thighs rather than his dreams of you in his lap. 

He’s always been a swift learner, and taking note of how to kiss you is something that comes to him quickly. Mimicking your movements, he finds a steady stride against you that feels eerily natural. More credence to the theory for his existence, his conviction that truly he was made not for the divinity of a gnosis, but the quiet contentment of becoming one with you. 

Emboldened to impossible heights, his hands find purchase wherever he can manage - one at your hip, one curled around your breast and marveling at how he can feel even through your clothing how receptive you are to his fumbling advances. With that hand tugging at fabric, he chases that phantom sensation he remembers of skin-on-skin. 

Arching into his palm, pressing yourself into his hold in an effort to be malleable to his needs, you sigh into the kiss. The puppet feels the first hint of madness, the all-consuming nature of what he’s become in the short span of time he’s been allowed to partake in what he’s yearned for. 

And you let him. With the urging of your tongue pushing past his teeth, tasting something only you can understand, the desire you reflect back at him feels impossibly tangled. 

Unraveling you starts with your clothing falling open, the fastenings flimsy enough that the natural movement of his hand down your body is enough to slide everything free. At your navel he pauses, wetly pulling away from your lips to seek guidance. In theory, he knows what to do, but more than any pleasure he could find for himself, he desperately wants to give it to you. Perhaps if he does, if he can prove that something in him is worth keeping, you’ll be further convinced to keep him close. 

With one arm behind you to prop yourself up, your free hand finds his wrist and encourages him to reach lower. Further and further until your lips part in a gasp and undeniable wetness meets his fingertips. Like a siren song he follows it, pressing into the heat you’re offering and memorizing the way your head rolls back and away from him. 

“Tell me.” he urges you, even as his fingers stroke insistently, searching for something he isn’t sure of. “Show me what to do, how to make you feel good.”

And in response, your hips shift enough for his touch to bump against something that grinds against his fingertips. It’s a wordless instruction, one he understands well enough to latch onto in every way. With swirling fingers, he chases after every little sound he’s able to rub from you. Always generous, you hold nothing back, and vaguely he wonders what your voice would taste like if he were to swallow it whole. 

“Use… use your thumb there and y-your other fingers- ngh- lower. You’ll know, you’ll-”

Unwilling to be skeptical of any direction you give him, he maneuvers just like you demand and his fingers sink into the heat he’d been dreaming of. Your muscles clench around him as he goes further and further, knuckles pressing tight to your entrance. Like you want more, need more, it feels as if you could take him indefinitely. 

He expects you to tell him to stop at some point, to have gotten your fill of what he can offer and grow tired of the sensation. But a sort of frenzy seems to take over you, your hips grinding down on his fingers in tandem with his movements, almost as if you were looking for something. Chasing something - and then you seem to find it with your back hitting the floor and your spine arching almost painfully. 

You don’t tell him to stop, you don’t demand relief from whatever is causing you to buck against him so viciously, so he does the only thing he can. He doesn’t let up, repeating the same motions that reduced you to this. The soft give of you inside grows impossibly tight, clamping down until he can barely move his fingertips against something inside that nearly matches where his thumb is on the outside. 

The only way to describe you is having been reduced to your base components, barely functioning as you writhe against his hold. He can’t help but note that when you’ve fallen apart like this, chest heaving and finally grabbing his wrist to stop his steady movements, that you’re impossibly beautiful. He could easily find himself addicted to this, to you. 

But just as much as he wants to try and break you down further, his own needs are crawling up his spine, boiling a heat in his stomach that is so akin to how he felt in his dream. The Kabukimono wants - recklessly, viciously, so desperately that it leaves him feeling panicked and adrift. 

Even ruined as you are, there’s enough coherency for you to take note of how close he is to falling apart. With infinite mercy, you reach to pull him closer. The right process clicks in his brain, breaking through the haze toward what he needs to do to you, to take from you. With your legs spread to slot his hips so nicely against your own, you offer yourself freely. 

Is it selfish if he wants everything, and that happens to be exactly what you’re willing to give? 

“Be… be gentle. I’m sensitive.”

Maybe he shouldn’t be as proud as he is when hearing that, but the only thing he comprehends is that he’s done well. That’s all that matters, but to keep doing well he wants to follow your instructions to the letter. So, with a gentle hand, he pulls himself out once more to line up against the entrance that once squeezed his fingers so tightly. Surely it would feel better on his cock, better for you, too.

With your wetness, he slides home so easily that he nearly sobs with relief. With taking him in so easily, he’s convinced of exactly how right this is. Lost in the sensation, he doesn’t realize you’re crying until the dim light of the moon outside shines across your cheek. Then, with further inspection, he realizes you’re not crying at all. 

He is, and they fall freely from him to land on you. You don’t seem to care, instead focusing on wiping them from his own face rather than your own. Once more you treat him with unending tenderness, giving and giving until he feels content and complete. The only thing he can do is give in return, taking first by sliding himself free before thrusting back in. 

The sharpness makes you gasp, and an apology bubbles on his lips before he realizes you liked it. So, with an impossible amount of giddiness, he does it again and again. Over and over, savoring the feeling of your body accepting him and refusing to let go until he has to force himself out for a split-second. 

“You’re doing so well.” You pull him close, so much that your forehead bumps against his own and your labored exhales match his greedily inhales. In and out, as if the two of you are sharing a single breath at the pace of his reckless pleasure-seeking. Though, with how close he’d been before, the search doesn’t take too long when it’s found inside you. 

The praise heightens everything, the validation that he’s doing everything you want bringing him to an unfathomable height before you push him over with a sharp tug on his hair. The strands beneath your fingers hold strong as you provide a sensation to keep him grounded, a tether as he pushes impossibly close and sobs brokenly over the all-consuming sensation of release. 

Shaking against you, he can’t be bothered to mind his weight with how he slumps in your hold. So very familiar to how you’ve held him before, when intentions were far more innocent than the things you’ve done tonight, he’s certain something in his chest is beating. It throbs in time with your pulse next to his ear on your chest, forehead pressing into your collarbone. 

Certainly, the two of you can’t reside on the bare tatami for the remainder of the night, but neither of you make any attempt to change this. In fact, one of your arms blindly reaches up to his nearby futon, swiping the pillow to tuck under your head with a pleased sigh. 

In the silence that falls, comfortable and warm like the Summer evening outside, the puppet wonders if perhaps there is some merit to the claim that he’s becoming more human. With something like a heartbeat in his chest, the warmth of your body embracing him, his hand laced with yours against the floor, he can’t help but feel more like a human than he ever has before.

#if you saw me forgot to put a read more break on this #no you didn't #scaramouche #wanderer #wanderer genshin #kabukimono #scaramouche x reader #kabukimono x reader #reader insert #reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #mind the a/n for content tags #genshin impact #wanderer x reader

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in napping.

It was a beautiful day in Inazuma. The sun was shining brilliantly, not too hot either, just the perfect temperature, with a slight breeze to keep you cool. Perfect for doing nothing, best for relaxing and enjoying life. It was on days like these when your eyes began to droop much earlier than they should be. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. But Kabukimono was questioning why you were already slipping into the futon when it was so early into the day.

“[Name], what are you doing? Are you sick?” Kabukimono worried over your early retirement to bed.

“No, don’t worry, Kabukimono. I’m just going to sleep for a bit.”

“But… it’s not ‘bedtime’, yet, isn’t it?” You chuckled at his use of the new term you taught him.

“You’re right, it may not be bedtime… but it is naptime,” you replied, having to stifle a yawn, wanting nothing more than to just drag your lover under the sheets and just sleep already. “I’m feeling sleepy, so I’m just going to sleep for a little while. A nap,” you explained.

“Ah, ‘naptime’...” Kabukimono repeated. “So a lot of humans not only sleep during the night but during the day too?” The puppet was still learning about the concept of sleep. He did not need to sleep and found the idea of it fascinating. But before, when you left him to sleep by himself, you would be awoken by quiet sobs, and him curled into a ball. You wondered what he dreamed about that made him cry so much, but you never pushed for answers. But now that he lay on your chest whenever he dozed, it seemed that he was no longer plagued by those frightful dreams, at least not so frequently.

“Of course, Kabukimono,” you giggled. “Though most people here sleep during the night, there’s no set time on when a person should sleep. You can sleep whenever you want.” With that, you held your arms out, inviting him to come join you.

“Come here, my love. Why don’t you try it? Won’t you take a nap with me?” Immediately a smile grew on his face, happy to be invited to the activity. Kabukimono shyly slid under the blankets with you and then looked up at you with puppy eyes, hands close to his chest.

“Can you… can you hold me, please?” His cheeks grew to a faint red as he asked. The puppet loved affection but sometimes was scared to ask for it. He’d even get nervous while asking you to accompany him for simple things, leaning from foot to foot with hands behind his back. As if he thought you did not want to be in his presence.

Perhaps he had been rejected in the past, and that hurt his fragile heart.

But no matter, you were here to relieve all of his worries and make him feel wanted. You smiled in response and watched as Kabukimono’s face lit up. “Of course, dearest. Here, turn around,” the boy eagerly followed your instruction and softly giggled as his back pressed against your chest. He really loved being the little spoon.

You briefly thought back to the time when you first spooned him. It was a lovely experience, and he was a joy to hold. But you had felt playful at the time, and what better way to surprise him by tickling him? Your arms were in the best position for tickles too - snug around his middle.

Unfortunately, Kabukimono was not ticklish. The only thing you got out of it was a hot, embarrassed face while Kabukimono looked at you with a confused expression as to why your fingers were dancing around his tummy. It seemed like the puppet really didn’t have any weaknesses. At least not physical ones.

Quickly snapping out of that little memory, you took pleasure in the way Kabukimono was practically glowing in happiness. You wouldn’t have it any other way. It really felt like only the two of you existed in the world right now. Nothing else mattered.

“Good night, [Name]! Oh, I actually shouldn’t be saying that, right? Since it’s still daytime-” The puppet began to correct himself but you kissed him before he could continue, catching him off guard but he quickly reciprocated.

“How about ‘sweet dreams’?”

“Sweet dreams… I like that. Sweet dreams, [Name].”

“Sweet dreams to you as well, Kabukimono. Maybe we’ll have connected dreams, too.”

“Connected dreams? Is something like that even possible?”

“Sure is! Dreams are very, very powerful, love. Don’t forget that. Now hurry to dreamland, before we lose our sleepiness,” you finished, pecking him on the cheek for good measure. Kabukimono settled into the comfortable position once more at your words, comforted by the calm in and outs of your chest. His eyes fluttered shut, as his body succumbed to the surrounding warmth.

The deeply loved puppet soon drifted off, dreaming of a happy and beautiful future with you. You two even adopted a cat! It was a bit grumpy, but that was okay. It would come true, right? After all, if dreams were so powerful, they should become reality eventually.

Right?

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche headcanons #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #wanderer fluff #kabukimono #wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin #wanderer genshin

[dizzyjaden]

❝ WHY ARE YOU SO COLD? ❞

Scaramouche x Gn! Reader

♤ Summary: You get injured on a fatui mission in Inazuma with Scaramouche <3

♤ Warnings: Head injury from blunt force (not severe) that makes you woozy

♤ A/N: Thanks for the attention on the genshin men hcs post! So many new bunnies here. Sorry if this is a little rushed </3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A sharp ring pierces through your ears as you slowly rise from the sudden slumber that had been forced upon you, confusion settling in when you open your eyes to see a blurry hand repeatedly snapping its fingers in front of your face.

"Oh. They aren't dead after all. Go on and thank your luck, boys." A familiar voice speaks. Your vision of blurred shapes and colors slowly adjusts back to normal and finally manages to delineate the image of Scaramouche kneeling down in front of you. Taking in your surroundings, you realize you're on the ground, propped up against a tree, barely sheltered from the downpour of rain, and entirely drenched.

You begin to recall the events that led you here. You can remember that you and the four men that accompanied you were approached by a rather threatening lawachurl that you ended up stuck fighting as they retreated. These men now stood closely together, quivering behind the harbinger examining you. You can't seem to pinpoint the injury you took that caused you to go unconscious, but the dull throbbing in your head wasn't much comfort.

You open your mouth to speak.

"I-"

Scaramouche holds up his index finger directly in front of your face. "Follow my finger please..." He directs your gaze while he carefully moves his hand to the right, and then the left.

"Hm... You might have gotten off easy..." Scaramouche says. "But had I arrived at the scene of your little ruckus a moment later... You have me to thank for your life now, that's for sure."

Your embarrassment visualizes itself by staining your cheeks a bright shade of red. This is your first fatui assignment in Inazuma enacted alongside an actual harbinger, and here you are against a tree with a throb in your head that has certainly become a less-than-admirable sight at this point. On that thought, you brush your hand against your head, it is tender to the touch, but not excruciating.

"Hm... What exactly happened?" Scaramouche asks while standing up straight. "The five of you were supposed to defend the camping grounds."

You are barely acquainted with the four men you were assigned to work with, they do not seem keen on explaining the details of how they abandoned the campground entirely and left you to fight alone. You can not really blame them.

Scaramouche fixates on you instead, awaiting your own explanation rather than hearing it collectively from all of you.

You sigh.

"I recall my four comrades retreating a short while after the battle with the beast began."

Your comrades seem unsure of what to do as Scaramouche turns to face them.

"Is this true? As much as I hate to admit it I wouldn't even be surprised. Fairly new recruits, the lot of you. None of you have been... Broken in just yet." He murmured, a whisk of malice floating in his tone.

Finally, one of your colleagues steps forward and clears his throat.

"It's truly a miracle you arrived when you did, my lord. We retreated because we saw the fight fruitless. There was no way even the five of us could've taken it on."

Scaramouche scoffs at his explanation.

"What a sorry excuse. We are discussing a lawachurl... Yes? There are five of you."

The indigo-haired male sighs heavily and shakes his head. "It only makes sense that the most useless quartet of whiners in Snezhnaya gets thrown at me." He mutters. "I would be less angry, as I am perfectly aware of how unnecessary your company on this mission is. However, your combined incompetence has left someone of potential value injured. That is rather irritating."

The silence is heavy aside from the thundering rain that slaps violently against the terrain. With each moment of quiet that passes, Scaramouche seems to grow more irritable.

"You have nothing more to say?"

The soldiers do not respond. Scaramouche sighs, then lightly claps his hands together and smiles at the group.

"Since you four are clearly out of practice and in desperate need of a little exposure therapy, find me a lawachurl, defeat it, bring me back its horn. Don't come back until you do. You should be thanking me for this opportunity to grow." He orders. "If that doesn't suit your tastes, we can do this... Another way. But it won't be nearly as amusing to you."

"Y-Yes lord harbinger!" The one who spoke before bows swiftly, and practically drags his fearful team off.

Scaramouche glances at you from over his shoulder as you were left alone with him.

"Can you stand?"

Coming from him, any questions feel more akin to orders. Therefore, you begin to shift your weight entirely on the tree behind you, grabbing the trunk with a hand before Scaramouche rushes forward to support you instead. This comes as a surprise to you, but you are in no position to deny his assistance.

"I sincerely apologize... I feel lightheaded, still." You utter, as he pulls you up and allows you to put your weight on his side. His hat instantly protects you from the rain, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. "This normally would not happen... I'm not used to defending others in battle."

"Well... If those bumbling idiots made the cut into the Fatui, I advise you to get used to it, quickly." Scaramouche said cunningly, beginning to walk you back to the campground. "I absolutely despise when they hand easy assignments to new recruits. They are not required to be here, and it always leads to me babysitting."

You can't help but smile slightly, it's not an everyday occurrence you casually converse with harbingers. Sensing the humor in his tone of voice, you just have to engage a bit.

"Ah, is that what you call sending a group of incompetent cowards off to fight large monsters? Babysitting?"

Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

"Trust me when I say that was the kindest I've ever been in this sort of situation."

As he guides you back to the campsite, your mind trails to various thoughts about how stiff and cold he is against your side. You didn't want to make too big of a deal out of the proximity with him, but it was so unexpected. It feels as though every muscle in his body is firmly tense, and his skin is noticeably cooler than the rain that you had just been nearly submerged in moments ago.

Curiously, you steal a side glance at his face as quickly as you can. It was already obvious to you that he is beautiful, but his features are so picturesque and devoid of flaws that they almost look unreal. Doll-like and hand-crafted. Something about him feels uncanny to you.

"Something on your mind?"

You're snapped out of your trance at his words, you swiftly shake your head and remain quiet the rest of the way.

When the two of you arrive at the campsite, he's quick to help you into a tent.

"Alright, rest well-"

"You're leaving again?" You instinctively cut him off.

He raises an eyebrow at your intervention.

"No, I already completed the mission while the rest of you were here." He stated. "But you should sleep, if you're going to be worth anything tomorrow."

You stare at him wordlessly for a few moments. He doesn't seem bothered by the unoccupied silence for whatever reason, but he does eventually speak up once more.

"What is it?"

You smile. "You are a rather interesting individual. I've worked for you a while, but have never gotten to speak to you one one-on-one before."

Scaramouche seems surprised at this, processing your words for a few short seconds.

"Hm? So, that's what you've been thinking of. I thought you were behaving overly placid for someone who just sustained a head injury... Alright then, I'll give you a bit of my time in compensation for working alongside amateurs today." Scaramouche nodded, joining you in the tent. He sat on his knees in front of you.

"You've got my attention. What do you wish to speak to me about?" He asks

A slight hum leaves your lips as you contemplate the confusion you felt before.

"Why are you so... Cold?"

Scaramouche almost seems amused at your words, choking back a snicker by clearing his throat.

"Well... It is raining-"

"You are much colder than the rain." You chime.

This time, he seems at a loss for words. He takes your hands in his own and brushes his chilled fingers over them.

"Why are you so warm?" He asks, an honest demeanour flickered through his eyes.

You shrug slightly.

"Metabolism? Body heat generates in organs... Like your heart."

He nods knowingly, as if you somehow managed to find the answer to the question you'd asked him with that response alone.

"Sleep well tonight, okay?" Scaramouche patted your shoulder. "I will need to make preparations for travel. Let me know if you need anything."

And just like that, he left the tent as you struggled to think of something else to say to him.

"Oh... Goodnight."

#scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #fanfic #fanfiction #genshin x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer #genshin impact x reader #genshin kabukimono #kabukimono

[maehemthemisfit]

𝘊𝘈𝘕'𝘛 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘙 𝘔𝘌 ? 𝘐𝘔 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘌.

♡𝅼  pairing : wanderer x reader

♡𝅼  content : angst + major character death + poetic format

The wind chimes always sound when he arrives at your door, carrying a gentle breeze that sways the flowers in his hands. Even though he doesn't have to, he still knocks before he enters, slipping off his shoes while announcing that he's home.

His steps are silent on the hard wooden floor as he pads to the table to add the roses to the vase. To the kitchen, he travels, taking two bags of tea, he makes his first and he brews his bitter.

He slides your cup against the counter, sugar and honey at his side. He twirls the spoon before he dips, scoping up grains to sugarcoat lies.

One spoon. Two spoons. Three spoons. Four. He takes a sip and gags at the sweetness. Five spoons. Six spoons. Seven spoons more. He decides to spare his tongue the misery again.

To the table once more he places your cup, filled to the brim with your favorite tea. His sits at the chair across from yours and glides his finger over the rim of porcelain.

"Sumeru roses?" He hears you say, and his eyes shoot up to the sight of you.

"I stumbled upon them on my way, I thought I'd replace the ones that died."

The word of death lays heavy on his tongue, and for a moment you disappear. He shakes his head and sips his cup, and once again your touch is near.

Behind his back you cup his face and place a kiss atop his head. He melts into your touch until your ghost reminds him that you're dead.

And suddenly you disappear, his vision shifts to what is true. Twenty cups across the table, filled with tea he former brewed. The sugar is spilled across the counter and honey soaked the floor. And if a raven comes they'll say his love is nevermore.

The trash is filled with piles of wilted flowers from the past. Tears drip into his bitter tea since...

"Humans never last."

He shakes his head then blinks his eyes and mutters in confusion, he remembers he had plans for tea and give in to his delusions. You must be sleep inside your room, of course! he hears you snore. He recalls that you were low on sugar, he decides to fetch some more.

Maybe he should get you flowers, perhaps your favorite kind? He tips his hat and leaves the door, and hears another chime.

listened to an edit audio and immediately had this idea, i have a version for cyno and tighnari in mind too if you guys wanna see ?

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin angst #angst #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #scaramouche fanfic #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #kabukimono #genshin x you #scaramouche genshin x reader #gi x reader #wanderer genshin #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fluff #angst no comfort

[kunikukitty]

Who is he?

✐ wanderer x reader

You are a sucker for beautiful things. Your obsession with beauty could sometimes be described to be unbelievable.

The world is full of beauty, they say. But oh, how wrong they are. Maybe because your eyes only feast on something of a high quality, your standards are unmatched. Or perhaps, the world itself is just full of ugliness that people fail to recognize.

But still, you often find yourself bored as you are deprived to see another pretty little thing.

Well at least, the nature of Sumeru is top tier. No matter how ugly the people are, the nation itself is a sight to behold. The greeny scenery, tall trees that is absolutely pleasing to look at, clear waters that flow within the river, and many more.

Because of this, you're frequently making biased judgments. And worse, you get scammed sometimes. To add to it, you're naturally impulsive. As long as it's something pleasing to look at, it is automatically good— if it does not appeal to your eyes, then it's bad.

However, you are hungry for perfection. So at least, beauty is not beautiful if it has flaws— or so you think.

This does not limit on objects or whatnots, but also towards people. Sure, humans are all good looking— but not to the point that they are attractive to the perspectives of everyone. You rarely see a face so beautiful that belongs to a person whose attitude is also the same. Therefore, you often find yourself disappointed when you try to befriend someone with attractive appearance.

But not all, of course! Kaveh from Kshahrewar has the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen. He has a good heart, but you're too shy to actually try to build a friendship with him. Nilou too, a dancer from Zubayr Theater. Her face is gorgeous, her performances are absolutely flawless. Good for you, she is now your best friend, thanks to your admiration for her.

And then a day comes where your heart almost stopped from beating. You see a beautiful boy— no, that is an understatement. His beauty is otherworldly, something you couldn't describe. His skin is pale, a cool tone, so flawless and white it looked like he's a porcelain doll sculptured with greatest care. His skin color contrasted his indigo hair— with that dark hue, it makes his paleness even more vibrant.

Oh, he barely looks human. Dolls are crafted with the purpose of being good looking, but as you observe the man's appearance, you doubt that dolls could even compare.

How come you've only noticed him today? Is he new, perhaps? After all, if you've been in the same room as him before, he would surely have your attention taken just like right now.

You observe him more while you're standing a little far away, mouth gape open. You're speechless, that much is clear. Who allowed him to exist? Your irises watched his every move, even the way he walks is beautiful.

You almost gasped when he halted his steps and turned his head to your direction, his indigo orbs meeting your own. You swear you could faint just by having an eye-contact with him.

Indigo, just like his hair. You had almost forgotten what Kaveh's eye color is as you continued to stare at whoever this man is. His stare is cold, piercing and sharp. Alhaitham from Haravatat also has a cold look, but this unknown man looks colder, almost unforgiving. But you're not intimidated— maybe in normal occasion, you would be. But the beauty of his eyes is unmatched, nobody could compare. And so you indulge in staring, wanting to memorize every bit of his appearance. His lips looks soft with pinkish color, it fits him well especially with that kind of skin.

You wanted to approach him, to talk to him, to take a closer look, to watch him more— but you felt glued in your feet. He looked away as he began to walk again and that made you want to run after him— but what would be your excuse for talking to him? Ask for his name? You do want to know his name. You don't understand why you can't feel your legs, why won't it move as usual. Maybe you're way too shaken of his appearance, you don't realize.

Before you could even come to your senses, he's already nowhere to be found.

Looking at him felt like hours that you wish to never end, but when he looked away it felt like you didn't stare enough. Like it only lasted for seconds, which is true.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You wish to know his origins, you wanted to know him more, look at him more...

Surely, you'd see him again, right? He's not just a visitor of Akademiya, right? You hope that's not the case. You don't know his name, if he's also a scholar and what his darshan is, you know nothing aside from his gorgeous appearance.

Did you even look at his clothes? Because you do not remember if he's wearing a uniform of the Akademiya.

You looked around, searching every corner with your eyes, trying to find a sight of his beauty once more— but he's nowhere. You went to the library too, and to the other places inside the Akademiya, but not a single strand of his indigo hair could be found.

He's not just a pigment of your imagination, is he?

For days, you used your time asking people about him. Your description of him is always over explained that you even use figure of speech, which earned a confused or disbelief expression from others.

You would sit at the same spot where you saw him, thinking that maybe he would be there again.

Until successfully, a vahumana scholar recognized who you meant.

"Ah, that aloof pretty boy?"

"I don't know about his personality, but yes he's a pretty boy indeed." You answered, your mind hovering over the scholar's words. Aloof? He's an introvert, then? Oh, that makes him more attractive in your eyes. Reserved men are always attractive.

"Mhm, yes. I believe we're talking about the same person. Pale skin and indigo hair, yeah that's him."

You repeatedly nodded at her words, your excitement growing upon thinking that you would meet him again.

"But he's unapproachable... I rarely see him talk to anybody."

So he's not just in a bad mood that day? His eyes really looks like that, cold and distant? You would pay millions to see warmth in him, you wonder how would he look like.

"If you're looking for more information about that guy, the vahumana scholars are the best to ask." She added.

Your interest is even more piqued. "His darshan is vahumana?"

"I'm not sure... But yes, he's often around the corners for vahumana."

That's good news! He's not just a visitor, that means you could see him again.

You said your goodbye to the nice lady, a big smile forming in your lips as you daydream about meeting him again. In which, you wish, you could talk to him this time.

You also wonder how his voice sounds like. Would it be dreamy? You wanted to hear.

The smile in your face was replaced with a frown as you asked another scholar.

"I'm telling you, you wouldn't want to speak with him. Bad attitude, that's what he have." The scholar said with pure distaste in his tone, genuinely annoyed about the man he's speaking about.

Ah... yet another pretty face with ugly personality? Another waste?

Usually, you would get disappointed and you would be no longer interested. Yet for some reason, you became even more curious of him.

Maybe because his beauty is one of a kind that you don't care if he's someone insufferable.

But maybe, there's something way much more beautiful underneath? Maybe, just maybe, he just doesn't want anyone to get pass through the thick wall he built around himself— and behind that wall is a treasure hidden.

He's such a mystery you wish to uncover.

"Bad attitude in what way, exactly?" You asked, your eyes sparking in excitement as if you're too impatient and you wanted to know everything already.

"He has a foul mouth," The scholar clicked his tongue in annoyance. "and an arrogant aura, I dare say."

You nodded your head. Foul mouth? Arrogant? He's not just a simple cold hearted man?

"And what's even more irritating is that he's late to start in an essay yet finished it on time, rich in words. And then he got recognized for it?! His work was the best, they say?!"

You watch as he grumbled, almost muttering to himself with knitted eyebrow and a sour expression.

Oh, so the mysterious man is also smart..? A smile formed in your lips again. He's really attractive, isn't he?

You observe the scholar's expression. Maybe he said that the pretty boy was arrogant because he's just jealous? So perhaps, he isn't.

"I can't stand him! And his huge ass hat!"

You had a questioning look in your face now. "Huge ass hat?"

"What? You don't see him wear it? I always see him with it, a waste of space!"

"No, are we talking about the same person?" You only saw him once, and without any hat.

He sighed in annoyance. "He's all what I could think of with your description."

"Do you perhaps know what his name is?"

"I don't know, I don't bother to know. He usually doesn't bother to talk to anyone, anyway. But when he opens his mouth, he's spouting insults like he's someone superior!" He rants again.

You nodded once more. When you asked questions regarding his whereabouts, none could provide an answer. Not even anyone could tell where he's mostly seen. He's like a wind, he's everywhere but at the same time he's nowhere. You'll see him once in awhile, but not everytime.

You sighed as you bid farewell to the angered scholar. Seriously, what's with the mysterious wind around him?

Another day without seeing him. But at least, you gained a lead regarding his attitude. Distant and snarky. Not bad, you guess. Maybe his tongue isn't as sharp as they say, maybe they're just easily offended. You hope he's not as bad as they make it out to be. After all, you can't handle people that are coarse.

The next day came, and you felt lucky. You irises were keen on someone, and it's someone you've been craving the presence of. He's sitting in the gazebo outside of the Akademiya, his face relaxed as he placed the 'huge ass hat' on his head, preparing to walk away.

So that's the hat, it is indeed big.

Wait, he's about to go!

You quickly ran to his direction, a little panicked that you almost tripped. You don't want him to get away, or you'd lose your mind this time.

"W-wait! Sir, uhm, pretty boy!"

Relief flood in your veins when you managed to get his attention. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, watching you sprint towards him.

You pant when you finally get close to him, your hands resting on your knees.

"What do you want? Make it quick."

Your head perked up, your eyes sparkled yet again. He... he has a nice voice! If only it wasn't for his tone, sounding so impatient and irritated, as if you ruined his day.

"Spit it out."

You heard him say again. If he wanted to let you get the hint that you're wasting his time even though you only had held him back for a minute now, he's absolutely making it obvious.

And then, nervousness came crashing in your body. You don't know what to say to him, nor what you want is of any importance. You almost couldn't speak, like there's a lump in your throat that had formed. Now that you're close to him, you realize how intimidating he is...

His eyes are piercing through your soul, it looks like he's judging your entire family tree. It looks sharper than a knife, and he's not even glaring, merely looking.

"I-I, uhm..."

You gulped. His presence is unbearable, he seems so almighty, it feels like standing before him is a sin. You don't have problems speaking to strangers, yet for some reason it became scary now. You can't feel a single ounce of your confidence, it's like it never existed in the first place.

He rolled his eyes, his patience is wearing thin.

You noticed his feet moved and he's about to turn around, to walk away. Afraid that you might not see him again, you grasp on his sleeve— the long cloth dangling after his arms

You heard him click his tongue in irritation and you immediately let go. He dusted off his sleeve as if you left a dirt in it.

"C-can I, uh, you..." You bit your lower lip, trying to gather the confidence you lost. "Can you be my participant for my resea—"

"I'm not interested." He didn't even let you finish your sentence, cutting you off.

"Please. I'm from rtwahist and currently conducti—"

"Isn't it basic etiquette for researchers to accept the rejection if someone do not want to be a part of your useless research?"

You gulped. Useless research? Well, you're not offended because the truth is, you're not conducting any research at the moment. You merely said those to sound like you approached him for an important matter.

"I think your constellation is... good."

His eyebrows met. "What?"

You're basically lying right now. You hadn't look at his constellation nor you have any means since you know nothing about him, but still.

You wanted to laugh at yourself, you realize how desperate you are. What's with him, exactly? He only have a picture perfect face, anyway. That's just what you're after, beautiful sight to behold. You could just look at him from afar. You could look at him like he's an object, unable to talk to.

Yet, you're drawn to him. Maybe you're just infatuated?

Unlike other beautiful faces you see, his appearance is top tier. His slender fingers and slim body looked so pretty, too. He looks... perfect. And for once you wanted to uncover a flaw out of a beautiful sight.

You hated imperfections so you try your best to avoid seeing one. Yet, for some reason, you wanted to know if he has any. And if he has, you wanted to see it for yourself.

Perhaps if you do, you'll lose this huge interest in him and go back to boredom.

Because maybe, you're just confused. Maybe, you can't believe you see someone look so perfect that you can't grasp the fact that he is flawless, which is why you wanted to see if he has any for your peace of mind.

But isn't his attitude already a flaw? He's not as kind as Kaveh, not as approachable as Nilou.

Yet... yet you can't help but think it's part of his beauty.

He brought you out of your reverie when he clicked his tongue out of annoyance once more.

"Oh, what did you say again?"

"Are you deaf? I asked what you meant."

Wait, what did you say again? Oh, right, his constellation.

"Your constellation, I see that you'd have a good fate."

"Did you look over it without my consent?" He asked, his tone harsh.

"Oh, no! No, of course. It just happens sometimes, you know? We call it... the astrologist instinct!"

He frowned upon your words, so you opt to continue.

"When I saw you, I had this instinct like..." You made a melodramatic actions with your hands, as if it further explain what you meant. "Woah, this boy right here is favored by the stars!"

He looks unamused, his eyes staring at your own as if to say he'd appreciate it if you shut your mouth and not bother him again.

"So, uhm.. My research is about that..."

He rolled his eyes in complete annoyance. He genuinely looks uninterested and you bit your lower lip in disappointment when he turned around and began walking away. He didn't even say goodbye.

If you ran after him, you would look like a desperate being seeking for his attention. Since you have dignity and it is precious to you, you just let him go.

You groaned in annoyance. How can you approach him again? When and where would you see him again? You didn't even get to ask for his name.

Well, he's rude just like they said.

But for some reason you don't understand, it looks so attractive on him, being like that and all. His intimidating stare is something you can't forget. The feeling of coldness that rose through you, the chill that you felt when his eyes locked with yours— you feel shaken up.

Those eyes, really... You have to beware, or you'd get lost in them.

You watched his back as he walked away, his figure slowly disappearing from your sight.

You swear to yourself that the next time you'd see him, you'll make him agree to become your research participant.

#genshin impact #kabukimono #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #kunikuzushi #scaramouche x reader #genshin scara #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #wanderer fanfic #genshin wanderer #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin nilou #genshin impact fanfics #x reader #kaveh #genshin kaveh #sumeru

[rokirokiro]

HEAR ME OUT cold husband Scara x chill and romantic reader he doesn't hate you but he still keep that cold persona around you (on early [arranged] marriage) and determined to keep the relationship smooth but mans clueless on what to do bc he's so bad with his emotions so he hid his growing affections to you. and you as his partner decided to be romantic with him slowly and used different endearments from variety of languages on him and when he google that stuff up he got all flustered and blushing and when you ask why's he so red out of nowhere bros gonna be like "nothing, don't worry"

I'm such a loser over him 👰

#scara #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin x you #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #wanderer #kabukimono #bro wtf am i doing