Scaramouche 🌸/💧Y/n (m 4 a)

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🌸: Fluff
💧: Angst
🌶: Spicy
🫀: Yandere

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"A New Chapter"

The Fatui, a force from Snezhnaya that branched throughout the many nations of Teyvat, is not to be dealt lightheartedly. Advanced yet cruel, cold, and dark. In the insides of this scheme, harbringers were the most fearsome of all, be it due to their control on the many range of foes, or perhaps their ways of dealing with certain issues. And the sixth of them is probably the worst, especially if you're a new recruit.

Scaramouche, the Balladeer, an enigma hidden under the fiery hellfire of an attitude. Cold, rude, ruthless, oh how the list goes on, but no one really knows what goes inside his head, nor can anyone really ask. His story is a secret, a tale he preferred to keep hidden. The past he lived all his life as a puppet on a string will end its reign (to be frank, it didn't really end, and that the Tsaritsa still makes use of him like a puppet), just as he had wanted it.

But there was a part of him that remembered his days on a string, and that was but the gentle caress on what was once long blue hair.
It felt as if all his problems washed away when they were there, but that has become nothing but a faded memory.
                Even so, he could still reminisce vividly the way the brush gently untangles his hair without pain, and the pleasant hymn that flowed out of their lips.
His face looked back at him from a mirror as he watched his hair come undone of tangles. In that moment, there was only one being who could see him in a way so vulnerable.
                 It was only their face he deemed to be memorable, a smile from red lips, kind e/c eyes, and the scent of their h/c hair, a white rose.

The last thing he remembered of them was his last step to becoming something more than a clone, and their body, left behind with ropes around their body, clinging tight.

For many years, he wondered what could have happened to that same person. Dead? Buried? Exiled?
He doubted that they could even survive the thunderous rage of an archon like his look-alike. A few parts of him did worry, but that was already in the past.

There's no way they were alive to see the day.

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The sun is setting, a shade of purple and orange dyeing the sky and the clouds. From where he was, no one would be able to see him.
The mountain of flowers, blooming for a lifetime, this was where he set foot upon.

                The Tatarasuna mountain, that surrounds the Mikage furnace, a mountain of tragic history of warfare.

Scaramouche trudged up the mountain of flowers in the light of the moon, the 'stars' looking down at him with a glare after being called fake by the same man. He walked a little more, finding himself almost nearing the peak of the mountain. There were many fireflies where he went, and to his wanderlust, was a cave that he never really bothered exploring during his travels here.
Countless of times, he had only noticed it, and along with that a shimenawa barrier that trapped whatever was within.

              What could be inside? Scaramouche didn't want to trample around with something that wouldn't benefit him, but there was a sliver of curiosity embedded in his mind. What if it did benefit him?
He sucked it up, and walked to the cave, on his hands, a electrifying ball of purple that lightened up the stone walls. As he walked deeper to the cave, the light from whence he came becoming smaller, feathers like that of a crow littered across the floor, and he found himself standing in front of a lump of feathers.

The lump of feathers was shaking, shivering when Scaramouche had knelt in front of it.

"Has the seal been... broken?"
A raspy voice whispered, muffled by the appendages of midnight-hued plume.
"No. But if you tell me who you are, then maybe I'll help you escape."

The weird entity silenced itself for a moment, before saying, "You already know who I am."

Its wings slowly unravelled, unfurling to reveal the owner of the mighty pinions.
H/c hair framed their face, and their lips, dried out and flaking came to appearance. Their eyes were closed, as if the light on Scaramouche's hands was enough to blind them.

"It has been a few years since I've seen the light."

The figure tried to stand, though they were frail and weak.
Meanwhile, Scaramouche couldn't help but watch this look-alike of his past lover stand on their wounded feet, their once red servant attire, now a black yukata.
"I'll forever miss the feeling of brushing through your hair, singing a lullaby from the origins of the spirit world," whispered Y/n ever so cooingly.

"How are you alive?"

Y/n looked at the male they oh so loved and cared for, smiling as his brows furrowed. He then said,
"Y/n could never survive whatever Baal wishes upon her. If anything, Baal could have force them to commit seppuku or jigai."

"Yes, but this cave was my punishment. The seal made by the highest of priestess, and Baal herself possessed a great amount of electro energy. Coming closer to the light will only make my body sear with pain." Y/n then stripped themselves of the upper part of the yukata, showing of the hundreds of marks of lightning, branded onto their once soft skin.

"Inazuma, a region of Teyvat, rich in history, and folklore, and hidden in a government that only seek to take away the eyes of her fellow co-archons are beings that come from the Inazuman afterlife," Y/n whispered, looking at their hands with a glare.
"And I am one of those beings. One, carved by the heresy of those who go against them. Only Baal and the high priestesses know this, hence their punishment being different than lowly mortals."

             "If that's the case, why didn't you tell me?"
His words were coated with venom.
"We were lovers, weren't we?
Why is it that you've kept this from me?"

Y/n sighed, "I lived long enough to tell you the punishment held by the bakufu. I cannot risk another head rolling just because I was seen as something other than human."

               "Especially yours."
The way their hands took hold of his cheeks were enough to make him sigh, the heat of the moment fading away.

"Then I'll unseal the entrance. But, please..." Scaramouche nears their face, looking at those shining e/c eyes as their hair cascaded around his face like wisterias.
"Don't you dare leave me again."

"I wouldn't think about leaving you again. I love you."

The way their lips touched was ethereal, though their lips were chapped and drying, he needn't mind. The scent of their figure, minus the scent of stone and rocks, was still the scent Scaramouche came to love.

                  Upon setting free the creature, the sun gazed at them both, two seemingly normal humans.
"I can't wait to finally crash in a more comfortable place than a cave," Y/n chuckled as the two walked away, and onto the meadowy parts of the mountain, where the flowers are all in bloom.
It's been a long time since Y/n saw different colors, and now that they had their lover beside them, and the clutches of the shogunate unbounded, they were ready to move on to a new chapter of their lives, especially with Scaramouche.

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