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#The balladeer
solitary-traveler · 14 hours
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Ascent to Oblivion part 1 - airborne embrace
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The heart imposes how one should act. How they should feel. So how can a puppet constructed without a heart exhibit such distinct qualities?
Notes: This one is very self-indulgent. I swear I wish there was an option to catch him during this scene—
Warning: reader is not traveler btw, slight angst?
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A heart is regarded as a mirror that reflects someone’s soul. A sovereign ruler that ordains decrees that the body is meant to follow. 
The heart imposes how one should act. How they should feel.
So how can a puppet constructed without a heart exhibit such distinct qualities?
He doesn't have a soul, nor a heart for that matter. Yet Scaramouche doesn’t fail to display the epitome of humanity. The emotions he claims are cursed act as a substitute; an artificial heart that ushers him in the direction of the deepest desires that he sought after. It spreads within his body like a burning infection, leaving a bitter taste of rage and fury that will never be quelled. Come hell or high water, his resolve never wavers. His ambition to prove to everyone that he is destined for more perseveres. He sprints to his goal like a marathon. To conclude his journey and prove to his mother that he has always been worthy of the gnosis.
That was your understanding of the 6th Harbinger, the Balladeer.
You stand beside the Traveler, along with the Archon of Wisdom you had liberated earlier. You encounter the rising "god" of Sumeru—the existence of who you know as Scaramouche—as he presents himself as the Shouki no Kami, the Prodigal, Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom. A long drawn-out battle that persisted 168 loops before you and the Traveler snatch victory from the harbinger.
You were tired and on the verge of collapsing. Bruises and scars are scattered across every nook and cranny of your skin. Yet despite everything—every word, every truth, every lie—you can't bring yourself to hate him. 
You wanted to hate him.
But why couldn't you?
Was it because you felt pity? Because the solicitude of his sorrows softened the fortification encircling your heart? 
Or was it because sympathized with him? Maybe you too knew how it felt when the cruel jaws of life gnaw on the strings that control destiny, only to give birth to nothing but misery and hatred toward the world?
As you looked up, you saw the electro gnosis in Nahida's possession. The puppet yells, an anguished wail of cries as every word laced with desperation begs to have the gnosis back.
"No! Anything but the gnosis!"
"That's mine!"
It was strange. Watching someone like Scaramouche throw away their pride and dignity, just for one measly gnosis. A gnosis that shaped his entire identity. An item he's been promised when he was fabricated, a promise the Raiden Shogun never kept. 
Your heart throbs. Was this the one you were supposed to hate? A misguided child who grew up hating himself and everyone around him because of accidents he interpreted as his fault?
Scaramouche's slender arms extend to seize the gnosis, to grasp the adhesive that was holding up his fragmented individuality. One by one, the tubes embedded in him fracture. Pink liquid sloshed out like waves, smearing pigments on the platform. But he couldn't care less. He wanted the gnosis. He needed it. With a hushed click, your eyes widened.
He fell.
And you jumped.
Despite the burning sensation of the wounds you had accumulated from the puppet, you rise without hesitation as the overwhelming urge to catch him coursed through your veins. You create a whirlwind that propels you in his direction, with the aid of your anemo vision. Time itself decelerates as you can only hope to reach him. You were praying to any go out there that you haven't miscalculated.
One.
Your arms wrap around Scaramouche, cradling him closely to you. You caught him. Thank the archons you caught him. 
Two.
You were to land swiftly on the ground—but having exerted the last of your energy—your touchdown wasn't as smooth or graceful as you had hoped. Your feet slipped, causing you and the harbinger in your arms to skid towards the rubble of rocks. Even then, you squeezed him tightly, not wanting to let go.
Three.
A deafening crash resounds in the domain as you smash into the massive debris. But your clutch doesn't waver. You held the puppet in your arms, a testament of your newfound will to protect him. To keep him safe. You could no longer watch him be cheated out of everything good. He deserves some peace, a tranquility you were willing to give. In spite of your best efforts to remain awake and asses how Scaramouche was faring, your brain started to deprive you of your consciousness.
Four.
A hand clutches your clothes firmly, as you feel the cold porcelain pressed against your skin. Before you collapse into an unconscious state, you overhear a broken sob. A sound only those with a shattered soul can let out.
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Taglist for part 2 is open btw!
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whalemoo · 3 days
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sherbird-art · 16 hours
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he is so tortured and pathetic i love him
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I am genuinely sad that Genshin didn't give Scara puppet joints like Herta from hsr
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phosbogey · 12 days
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what a kind and reliable group
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woosh woosh anemo babyyyyy
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amalwitche · 1 year
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Do you think Niwa freak out hearing kabukimono cuss for the first time? 💀
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kvnis · 26 days
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imagine . . . meeting online bsf scara . ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
⤷ fem!reader. nsfw utc. ノ overstim. praise. creampie.
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﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who doesn’t know that you caught feelings for him over the internet.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who reluctantly, and with shaky hands, texts you one morning ;; ‘ want 2 meet up ? ’
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who drives over 4 hours ,, all just to see you <3
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who has his hood up in the freezing cold rain, waiting for you to open the door, shifting from foot to foot ‘cause he’s so anxious !
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who’s gaze softens after seeing your figure at the door—you looked even prettier in person.
“scara!” you spoke with a joyful expression, immediately flinging your arms around him and pulling him in your warm, comforting embrace. “come in, you’ll catch a cold otherwise.” and he prays you don’t see the burning blush on his cheeks.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who’s awkward for the first hour in ,, before boldly asking to stay the night. ( you agree ! )
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who’s constantly stealing glances at your lips ,, not failing to notice your creeping blush as he grows closer in proximity.
your cheeks were glowing a bright pink, which was hard to miss, even if you tried to hide it. you clear your throat, saying something to scaramouche which only gets drowned out in the pool of awe in his brain. it’s now or never, he tells himself.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who goes on his instinct, clashing his lips with yours, seeking the taste of you he’s been wanting for so long.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who’s lips are soft as they mould with yours, perfectly slotting his tongue in between your lips, as if you both were made to be with each other.
the way he cupped your jaw and angled it so he could kiss you was perfect. warmth bloomed in your chest as he pulled away for air, observing your stunned state for a quick moment before immediately pulling you back in. you sent him reeling, enchanting him and hypnotising him to go back in for more. your taste, your scent, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already and you don’t even realise it yet.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who’s hand slyly creeps up the hem of your shirt to grasp your waist, pulling you flush to him with no room for escape.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who doesn’t waste any time in pinning you to the bed ,, his needy hands beginning to tug your clothes off.
“i’ve wanted you for so… so long,” he whispered against your lips, a hushed confession only meant for your ears to hear. his hands go down to your thighs, kneading them as if you were malleable putty in his hands. his breath fans upon your lips, heated pants against your spit-glossed lips. “let me have you, please.”
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﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who whispers sweet nothings into your ears as he slowly slides his leaking cock into your cunt.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who’s so pent up from your teasing glances, he blatantly refuses to stop after you orgasm.
“nuh-uh… that’s too bad. you should’ve thought about that before you gave me those bedroom eyes,” he spoke in a condescending tone, your velvety walls only tightening around him from it. “oh? you liked that, hm?”
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who peppers comforting kisses up the side of your neck and trails them to your lips after hearing your overstimulated moans and whines.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who whimpers into your sloppy kiss about how much he’s needed you and craved you over the time you’ve been friends.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who praises you and touches you as if you were the most fragile china vase in the world, his caresses proving to stir the warmth in you.
“so pretty,” he murmurs against your lips as you came around him, your slick oozing around his cock and creating a creamy ring at the base. “fuck, f-fuck… so good, all for me, mhm?”
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who after spilling inside of you, cleans you up and runs you a bath, confessing his feelings as you two bathe in the warm water.
his hands brush through your soapy hair, massaging your scalp satisfyingly. “i love you.” he blurted out without thinking, his eyes widening once you turn around and look him dead in the eye. his heart drops, but hearing you reciprocate his affection makes his mouth tug up into a grin. until, he grips your head and turns it forward harshly, telling you to shut up so he can finish washing your hair with a smile.
﹒online bsf scara ౨ৎ . . . who’s just so happy you’re finally his, and his alone. <33
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©2024 kvnis do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my works.
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roccton · 2 months
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ENDLESS
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miitaart · 1 year
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Wanderer
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lenateliier · 1 year
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Wanderer
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amaerise · 1 year
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I have seen many gorgeous headcanons for Scaramouche post archon quest.
My mind decided to go for a slightly different approach.
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dinodiiya · 2 years
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i love the hc that he sewed the doll for the boy <3
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charmzero · 4 months
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Happy birthday Wanderer! …except it’s scaramouche because i started this drawing before his release LOL
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f-ai-n · 2 years
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Talking lessons
(Pierro is not Kaeya's bio dad HC/Fatui adopt Kaeya AU) There is a reason why Kaeya doesn't speak in front of others for a long time.
Context/lore:
In this AU, Kaeya came to Teyvat with limited knowledge in Teyvat's common language. Most of the words he knows are outdated, and he's more proficient in reading and writing rather than listening and talking.
Pierro push Kaeya to study hard so he can listen and speak fluently. He brings him to meetings so Kaeya can experience real-life verbal conversations and told him to remember or note down words that he doesn't understand to ask Pierro later.
It takes Kaeya a long time to actually starts talking to someone other than Pierro because both of them are perfectionists lmao. It would be easier if Kaeya has someone around his age to talk with (like Diluc in the canon universe), but in this building, only Pierro and the Tsaritsa knows how to speak Khaenri'ahn fluently
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solitary-traveler · 1 month
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One More Night
Hookups were supposedly a one- time thing. A way to have fun without getting attached.
So why the fuck does he keep coming back to you?
Scaramouche x Gn!Reader
A/n: A quick edit of a draft I've had in my notes for a while now.
Art credits: ike_0910
Warning: Slight nsfw, cursing
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Scaramouche despises hookups.
To be tangled within the sheets with a complete stranger, the idea repulsed him to no end. Honestly, it was rather pathetic. It was nothing more than a desperate act of attention. A despondent call to those terrified of estrangement. But archons forbid, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit curious.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try at least once?
Besides, stress has been eating him up lately. He needed a way to clear his thoughts and forget. To let go and revel in the pleasure of losing himself in his inhibitions.
But there must be something wrong with his hookup. Weren't they supposedly a one- time thing? A way to have fun without getting attached?
So why the fuck does he keep coming back to you?
Why does he insist on keeping you on his bed, with a part of him wishing you'd stay there forever?
He hated this so much.
Words can’t express how much he loathes this thing referred to as attachment. He refuses to let his emotions run rampant again and undergo the heartbreak of treachery. He’s been betrayed three times. He’s not letting you be his fourth one.
Yet here he was, in bed with you for the 5th time this week, lips locked in a fiery fit of passion. Your wrists were pinned above your head, it was scary how he didn’t want to let you go. How despite his repugnance towards devotion, his hypocrisy ruled with the thoughts of keeping you in place.
"You taste so fucking good…", he mumbles as his breath brushes against your lips. Your skin was redolent of fresh lemon with the base of woody amber, the bed sheets stained with the scent of your perfume. The air was heavy, choking the last of his self-control. He eyes you, taking shallow breaths underneath him as you tried to catch your breath. He couldn’t help the twitch of his lips as you never fail to provide him with the dopamine of having control. He dives in for another kiss, this time devoid of passion and merely fueled by his hunger. Hunger for you. For the delightful moans that slip out your pretty, little mouth when he pounds relentlessly into you. For the way your body arches when he rakes his fingernails across your smooth skin, all the while his hips snap forward to hit that spot deep within you. A certain area only he knows that would drive you crazy.
He was obsessed with this feeling.
He knows that he should've let you go already, that this is something that shouldn't be happening. But dear archons forgive him because being wrong never felt so right. You were like a poison who seeped into his veins, rewiring his brain to be filled with thoughts regarding you and you alone. You collapsed the building of his very morals, turned everything he stood up for into non-existent debris.
"One more night…" He mutters, burying his face into the crook of your neck. It would be a comforting gesture, if not for the fact that he sinks his teeth into your skin and gnaws on it like a piece of meat. He’s sure that's going to leave a mark tomorrow yet it doesn’t stop the sinful moan that escapes your throat, an invitation for him to keep going. And he will most definitely keep going. His sense of judgement disintegrated when you hooked your arms around his neck, reciprocating his intense desire that tarnished both your bodies and short circuited your willpower. Nothing else mattered. Just you and his desire to have his way with you until he's satisfied.
A low chuckle escapes from the confines of his throat as he saw how much of a mess you became. A mess that belonged in his museum of you, framed, sculpted or whatever way its preserved. With a smirk that seemed to widen every passing minute, his fingers lightly trace the curve of your spine.
He just couldn't get enough of you.
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