Genshin Impact One-Shots

Scaramouche | Only Orders

This is what an oven must feel like.

Complete darkness. There's a heaviness to your body as the thick pile of ingredients above you are pushing you down into the cozy pot, further cooking you in the bubbling and boiling water.

Despite the slight discomfort you're experiencing from the intense heat and pressure, it is oddly comforting. The longer you're getting cooked, the more you're gradually starting to float—up, up, and up... and now you're floating beside a piece of vegetable.

Who needs a cooling beach vacation when you can indulge in the boiling waters of an endless, dark place?

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Brighella?"

Again with the Brighella title. You slightly shift your body and roll on your side. The person heaves a jaded sigh before yanking all the blankets off of you, and you're quickly met by the annoyingly bright sun permeating in the room.

You meet his narrowed, violet gaze and give him a lazy smile, waving with a lack of energy. "Scaramouche... good morning."

He crosses his arms and sighs once more. "Let me firmly remind you of your low position, so do not regard me so casually. You're merely an insect in my eyes. Do you understand?"

You hum in response and hug your "vegetable" friend, more commonly known as a pillow. Although all the ingredients (your blankets) are gone, at least you still have the fluffy pillow to keep you warm.

Scaramouche rolls his eyes as he yanks the pillow away. Whining, you randomly reach out into the air as a way to ask for it back, but you end up poking at his face instead. He frowns and slaps your hand away.

"Get up. We were given a new task this morning."

You pout. "Can't... I'm sick."

"So I've heard from Tartaglia," he says. "If a simple sickness is preventing you from doing your job, then you're a lot weaker than I thought."

"Okay... good night, Scaramouche."

You turn on your other side and snuggle deeper into the toasty bed. The sounds of more loud sighing and impatient feet tapping can be heard, making you faintly smile.

You've been partnered with Scaramouche for a while now, so you have an idea on what he'll choose to do. You've gotten sick five other times before, and his response for all those times were the same. Although his annoyance toward you and your sickness is evident, he never leaves you behind and instead, takes care of you in his own odd and subtle ways.

Of course, you point this observation out every time, as to which he denies and explains how he's only following The Tsaritsa's orders.

"Besides," you remind him, "you're strong and smart enough to complete the task on your own, right?"

He stops tapping his feet. "Well obviously. Who do you take me for?"

"Even if I wanted to complete the task on my own, it's more efficient down the road for your health to be in good shape," he explains while pacing back and forth near the bed.

"Mhm..." you mumble. You're too drowsy to say anything else; his voice has always been relaxing for you, reminding you of your favorite storyteller.

"Your lack of respect toward me is ridiculously annoying to deal with."

Then, you feel a sudden slap to your forehead. You yelp and complain about how rude he is to a sick patient, trying to pry his hand off. But his hand lingering on your forehead for a moment longer, clearly a little too long for it to be a slap anymore, makes you stop your complaints.

The violet-haired male slowly flickers his gaze down to you, wordlessly staring with the usual expression. He's so focused that you're starting to feel the effects of being under the covers again: immense warmth and a cozy feeling. He moves away with a frown after noticing the smile gracing your face.

"One word out of your mouth, and I won't hesitate to end you," Scaramouche threatens.

Lazily smiling, you nod and close your eyes, whispering a soft "thank you" before drifting off to sleep.

He scoffs, "I'm following The Tsaritsa's orders, no need to thank me. Don't think so highly of yourself."

Quiet snoring follows shortly after. As an immediate response, he frowns and scolds you for being disrespectful. But seeing your chest steadily rise and fall and hearing incoherent mumbles from your parted lips stops him, and he simply watches you, his violet gaze focused solely on your sleeping form.

Unconsciously, the intense frown on his face relaxes.

Scaramouche sighs and begins covering you with blankets. He fluffs up the extra pillow that you were hugging earlier and carefully puts it under your arm.

"I will be back later, Brighella," he murmurs to himself. He furrows his brows and shakes his head.

"(Y/N)..." he corrects himself and gives you one last lingering look before turning away.

-♡-

Dear Scaramouche,

I love you.

Sincerely,
A Future Scaramouche Haver Who Is Going To Sob An Ocean If You Don't Come Home Safely The First Time Around