thoughts about abby anderson bc i've been having really bad brain rot (some water polo player!abby)
abby isn’t the biggest fan of large displays of PDA, but she does this thing where she just hovers around you. she never strays too far away from you, so she’s just kind of lurking lol. when you’re walking together, she’ll either put her hand on your shoulder or your back and subtly guide you. (tbh i also do that. gotta treat my babygirl right fr). i don't think you'll hold hands too often, mostly because her hands are kind of sweaty due to her naturally running quite hot. if you try, she'll laugh and say, "don't. my hands are sweaty." like ok? just wipe them off girly, i wanna hold your hand. i think she likes linking arms, though. she eats it up when you hold onto her arm and cling onto her, she loves it. despite not liking pda, she takes every opportunity to subtly touch you. brushing arms when you're walking, touching thighs because you're sitting so close to each other, one hand on your knee, stuff like that. she's seriously borderline clingy, but she's always so gentle. she's so cute omg
i think that abby likes to be pampered. specifically, i think she likes it a lot when you play with her hair. brush it, wash it and tie it when she’s too tired to do it herself. start running your fingers through her hair and massage her scalp and she’s immediately putty in your arms. she’ll most likely insist on doing it herself, but if you push back she’s not going to argue further lol. do what you must, she’ll enjoy it
when it comes to pet names, i think she'll only really use them when there's no one else around. however, occasionally there are times where it'll just slip out. i don't know why, but i think she'll call you bug pfft. she'll come up from behind saying, "there you are, bug. i've been lookin' for you," as she kisses your temple and you can feel her smiling mhmm. if she's taller than you, she likes to rest her chin on your shoulder. wait omg, imagine her calling you trouble. but lorddd she'd use so many nicknames, i think. babe, honey, hun, sweetheart etc etc. the girl has some variety, I’ll give her that
PERSONAL TRAINER ABBY! unfortunately, she can be such a dick lmao. if you're struggling with an exercise or with lifting weights, she'll just be watching you and laughing to herself. "you need some help with that, hun?" and you're whining at her to stop laughing and to hurry up and help you out. but she's so helpful and strong and attractive you can't stay mad at her for too long. like she'd grab your waist and fix your stance and when you get it right she’ll say something like “yeah, that’s it. you got it." she's always gonna encourage you to keep going. she'll really push your limits because she just wants you to do well. but this applies to lots of other things, not just gym. i honestly probably wouldn't be able to go to the gym with her because i'd be distracted by her the entire time. so.
playing fighting with abby. she gets so competitive and will do literally everything in her power to win. she's the furthest thing from a sore loser, thankfylly. she’s very conscious of her strength, so despite the fact that she’s literally able to toss you around like a bag of potatoes, she’s never hurt you by accident. she’d genuinely be so mortified if she thinks she hurt you. will literally sulk about it meanwhile you’re like “abby, I’m fine??”
she's always very relaxed whenever she's around you. i can't say she'd be smiley when there are other people around, but she'll have a kind of pleased and content expression on her face. but when you're alone? oh boy, have fun trying to wipe that cute ass smile off her face, because you can't! she's just very at ease when you're around teehee. her demeanour is a lot less tense than what it may be typically. honestly I think she’d just melt around you
abby isn't the biggest gossip around--if you ask her, she'll just shrug and say that that kind of stuff isn't something she's particularly interested in. however, she is absolutely invested in whatever gossip you have for her, even if she pretends to be nonchalant about it. she'd probably say some bullshit like, "babe, that kind of stuff isn't even worth your time." but then the next time she sees you she asks about it because she wants an update. talks shit but doesn’t consider it to be real gossip. “it’s called a discussion, not gossip.” she’ll say, like a fucking liar
she’s SO invested. always asking for updates, always asking questions. she tries to be subtle but honestly at some I’d think she’d give up and go all in
waterpolo player abby !
you literally cannot drag her away training so as a result she always smells like chlorine. she bitches about it all the time, too.
she’d look stupid as hell wearing the hats lmao i'd call her egghead or something
she definitely complains about how damaged her hair gets from all that swimming she does
idk about you guys but soggy Abby does something to me… like she's wearing her swimming costume and her hairs down and she’s still damp and you can see the water droplets on her skin and AAAAAAHJASHIEDQHV
don’t even try pushing her into the pool because she’ll drag you down with her lmao
she'd definitely be centre forward REAL
she could try drowning me and I wouldn’t really mind tbh. but ik for sure she’s a scary ass player. fast AND strong as hell? I’d be fighting for my life. make sure u don’t get hit in the head by a ball thrown by her bc you’d be asking for a concussion. also she seems like the kind of person who keeps elbowing people?? LMAO
WRITTEN WITH MODERN AU IN MIND! angst-to-fluff, scara is scara so he's an ass at the beginning lol, spoiler for his real name. this was thrown together pretty quickly, so please forgive any errors or parts that may not make sense! LET SCARAMOUCHE SAY FUCK!!
As much as it may be surprising, you and Scaramouche actually don’t fight that often. Or seriously fight, at least. Most arguments are some form of bickering, something you and him have been accustomed to since the very beginning, even before your relationship. It was more like second nature to the two of you, and it was nothing hurtful. You know what he’s like, and he knows your boundaries and what not to press.
This is by far one of the most worst arguments you’ve ever had, if not the worst.
You don’t exactly remember how it started—maybe it was something he said, or something he did that rubbed you the wrong way.
It started off with something small, something minutely small, and it got blown out of proportion. You can’t deny that you were at fault for some of it, too—things were tense and looking worse by the minute, and all you wanted was for it to stop. You were fine with continuing it some other day because you knew at some point you always come back to it. But, that didn’t happen.
What was so different about that day? Maybe you were both tired, maybe one of you was still holding a grudge from what was said before—whatever it was, you surely did not expect for it to lead to… this.
He’s poking and prodding at every single nerve he can find—taunting you, following you around and hovering by you like a scornful shadow as he speaks to you with a sneer, every word aimed to provoke.
“Why are you running away?” He jeers. “What, you started this and now you don’t even want to finish it? That’s just pathetic.”
Every attempt at walking away from the argument comes to naught, urging you to come back and to face him because you were the one who brought it up, you were the one who started it, you were the one that just couldn’t let it go.
Because, realistically, who is Scaramouche if not the world’s best projector?
And at some point finally, you’ve had enough. You turn around sharply, fuming and looking like you’re about to explode—your fists are clenched, your eyebrows are slightly furrowed and your gaze is cold and sharp—and yet, you don’t.
No, when you turn around to face him, your rigid posture falters ever so slightly and you hesitate, no words leaving your mouth.
He isn’t speaking either, waiting for you to retaliate, waiting for you to fight back the way he’s been trying to provoke you into doing. When you don’t, he scoffs, another jab resting on the tip of his tongue when you interrupt.
“I don’t think I—“ you pause, voice breaking off in the middle. “I can’t do this anymore.”
The way your voice cracks at the edges immediately reveals the feelings you’ve been trying to hide, the feelings you hid behind a steeled expression.
He notices.
He’s about to snap again, interrogate you, ask you why? What do you mean you can’t do this anymore? But, he never gets the chance.
Instead, you turn your back to him, quickly gather your things (you didn’t even take everything. More than anything you were more focused on getting away from him. It would have been close to impossible, anyway—you leave traces of yourself everywhere) and walk out the door.
As you do, you leave him with one last glance. The last look you send him betrays the air of nonchalance that you were trying to portray—he can see the hurt in your eyes, the subtle trembling of your shoulders and the stiff way you held open the door.
Only when the door slams shut does he process the fact that you truly have left.
Left to his own devices, Scaramouche stands by himself in silence, spare for the loud thudding of heavy rain.
That’s strange. I swear it wasn’t raining before.
And unfortunately, he is left with his own very loud thoughts. In almost a robotic manner, he makes his way over to his sofa (it’s basically yours as well.) and takes off his hat, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff.
As he sits by himself, he slowly comes to terms with what just happened (why did he overreact like that? Is he stupid?). It wasn’t even that big of a deal, he realises. And then he thinks about how hurt you looked and sounded, and the fact that he willingly ignored it.
The more he thinks about it, the more his guilt swallows him whole. What if that was the final straw for you? What if you couldn't handle being with him anymore?
He fucked up big time, he decides. And Archons forbid he doesn’t do anything about it.
Scaramouche looks outside of the window and notices just how much time has passed by. It’s dark, and it’s still fucking pissing it down—seriously, why the fuck is it still raining?
Barely collecting his things, he stands up and rushes to the door, guilt swallowing him whole as he goes to look for you.
The door creeks open and you pop your head out, only to see a very soggy Scaramouche, his hat long abandoned as if he had forgotten to even put it on in the first place. His lips are slightly parted as his chest noticeably rises up and down, his nose and cheeks are dusted with a light pink—hold on, did he run all the way over here? You don’t entertain the thought any further.
A few seconds pass by and no words are shared. As if sensing his hesitation, you frown. Reaching for the door, you turn your back on him, again, again, again…
“I’m sorry!” He blurts out, making you pause and turn ever so slightly to look at him again.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, a little less frantic and a little more controlled this time. “I fucked up. And I was a dick.”
He is only met with silence, but he knows you, and he knows that you’re hanging onto every word he’s saying, even though you both know that you don’t have to. You always listen. Maybe it’s something that he’s taken for granted.
“I never should have kept pushing you the way I did, I should have just left it alone, and I was being a moron, and I’m— sorry.”
With every word, his pride seems to melt away more and more along with the rain, his words spilling out like an overflowing dam. He talks, he talks and he talks. (He’s always been somewhat of a blabber mouth, you suppose. He always has lots to say.) I’m sorry, you should be angry at me, you’d be an idiot not to be, et cetera.
“I said a lot of fucked up shit that I should have never even thought of saying, and I just—“ he pauses, his tone becoming considerably softer. “You know I didn’t mean any of it,” he says. “I never do.”
“Kunikuzushi,” you start—no stupid nickname, no stupid pet-name—and it stings more than he would like to admit. “You can’t just say all that stuff and expect me to forgive you immediately.” You say, and your tone is just as soft as his. “You… you really hurt me.”
“I know.” He replies, voice almost in a whisper. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear. Just—please…”
His eyes are wide, and you can hear the desperation in his voice—he doesn’t say it aloud, but every part of him seems to be saying, please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you too.
You purse your lips and sigh, taking a step closer towards him while still holding open the door. “I’m sorry, too,” you say, guilt washing over you. “I was being an asshole to you as well.”
He looks away from you, a shadow crossing over his face. “Yeah, well,” he mumbles. “We both know who the real asshole was today.”
You don’t say anything in return, but you catch the awkward glances he’s giving you. Tapping your fingers against your door, you hum.
“Alright,” you say, nodding to yourself slowly. “Okay.” You shuffle over to the side and away from the entrance, feeling amused when Scaramouche gives you a perplexed look.
“Well, aren’t you going to come in?” You ask with a snort, the sides of your mouth curving upwards into a little smile. “It’s kind of difficult to say no to you when you look like a sad little kitty cat on my front porch. You can dry yourself inside, you wouldn’t want to catch a cold, would you?”
Ah, now this is more familiar.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Scaramouche huffs and walks past you and into your house. “I do not look like a ‘sad little kitty cat’—you’re ridiculous,” he scoffs. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never get sick.”
You close the door behind you with a shrug before reaching over to play with his damp locks and ruffle his hair. “Believe whatever you want to believe.” You hum.
“Whatever. You’re delusional.”
“Sure. Come on, let’s go get you dried up. You’re dripping water everywhere.” Then, you add, “And take your shoes off. You’ll track in dirt.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He replies, leaning into your touch when you cup one of his soft cheeks, gingerly brushing your thumb against it.
“I know,” you say gently, brushing a few strands of his indigo hair away from his face and tucking it behind his ear. Then, you give him a shit-eating grin. “My dirty little street cat.”
He squawks with indignation, and you quickly dart away from him while cackling at the way he stumbles after you, sputtering ‘how-dare-yous’, his cheeks coloured with furious blush.
After the two of you have had enough with throwing soggy towels at each other, the night ends with gentle caresses (and a couple of pinches, let’s be real) and softly spoken ‘I-love-yous’ while safely tucked in under warm blankets.
And despite the heaviness of it all, Scaramouche feels lighter than ever before, and he knows that this must be the way things should be. He’d do anything to keep it this way, to hell with his pride.
Scaramouche is, above all, grateful to you for the chances you give him. And he vows to never let you down again.
kaeya and scaramouche both have cold ass hands. so, do you know what they do?
they shove their cold ass hands under your clothes and then snicker at your reaction because they are menaces. they love you, but it’s just who they are </3
they think it’s hilarious. top notch humour.
they also do the same thing with their feet. disgusting 😟 send them to jail immediately.
please do us all a favour and give them a good ol slap. it’s what they deserve.
The Balladeer. Everyone who knows his name is aware of just how two-faced and deceptive he is. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, his appearance and initial mannerisms are so charmingly innocent — but beware, for it is all a ruse to draw in his prey and strike them down.
So, when it comes out that the infamous Scaramouche that has a notoriously terrible attitude is actually in a relationship, everyone is shocked. No one is quite sure how it came about, but they are horrified nonetheless.
Most, if not all, pity the poor being who had the misfortune of being the 6th Fatui Harbinger’s significant other. Surely, life with one of the most ruthless men in Tevyat would be absolute torture. Well, why don’t we find out?
(these were supposed to be just hcs but I went crazy with them LMAO. spreading the soft!scaramouche agenda because I can and I will.)
warnings include: swearing and a smidge of angst. scara has abandonment issues pls give him a hug. ALSO!! spoiler warning for his real name
(1k+ words. read more under the cut)
Scaramouche who is shockingly easy to fluster. A simple caress of his arm or shoulder, or when you tell him you love him and he’s suddenly stumbling over his words, trying to prevent his brain from turning to mush. No matter how long you’ve been together, he’s never able to get used to the affection you show him. He finds it extremely mildly humiliating how easy it is for you to make him all fuzzy and light-headed. In the end, he presses his lips together and shuts up, cheeks tinged with a pink hue. He’ll mutter something under his breath, scoff and turn his head away from your line of sight until he regains his composure so he can give you snark. (using a nickname or even his real name will bring out an even more satisfactory reaction from him)
Scaramouche who is reminiscent of a grumpy old cat. He’ll pretend to despise your touch, but leans in closer when you hold his soft cheek in the palm of your hand. He gives you a weak glare, but it immediately falters when he sees the way you’re looking at him — eyes half-lidded and a disgustingingly smug (yet agonisingly attractive — not like he’d admit it) grin on your face.
“Don’t look at me like that. You look stupid.” Don’t listen to him. he’s smitten like a kitten with you. (so are we, babe)
“Ku, are you blushing?”
“... No.” He is in a constant state of denial. “Shut up.”
Scaramouche is quick-witted and silver-tongued; he always has something to say. He’s genuinely so creative with his insults, and he knows it. So, how does he utilise his skills? He uses them to make you laugh. His wording is so eloquent and he always comes up with the perfect words to use that make you almost keel over with laughter. Something flutters in his chest when you cackle and wipe tears away from your face because of something he said. It makes him burst with pride and brings a smile to his face. He always ends up laughing with you.
Seeing you happy never fails to make him happy.
But, him being him, he’ll always take the opportunity to tease you. He finds it incredibly amusing when you play along with him and clap back at him with your own little insults. There are many times where he’ll flirt with you really intensely. Yet, he’s almost always rendered speechless when you flirt back with equal or more intensity. Usually, he just can’t take what he dishes out.
Scaramouche who is so gentle with you, treating you like fragile porcelain or Tevyat’s finest gemstone. His words compared to the way he actually treats you is so wildly different that it can give you a serious case of whiplash.
When you accidentally hurt yourself while he’s present, he’ll find himself immediately by your side. He’ll shake his head and tut, calling you a careless moron in a sharp tone whilst simultaneously treating your injury with a touch so gentle it could make you cry. It surprises him as well, too, occasionally.
Scaramouche, who whenever you ask him for something, he’ll do it for you. Let’s say you ask him to buy you something: he’ll typically huff and puff about it or not give you a straight answer, but the next day you’ll find the exact thing you wanted on the kitchen table with a very impatient Scaramouche standing beside it with his arms crossed together. When you beam at him, give him a big old kiss on the cheek and happily thank him, he’ll roll his eyes and scoff, telling you that it’s ‘not that big of a deal.’ Though, when he looks at you, you can tell that he’s pleased as well because of the subtle smile he’s wearing. Does it look a little bit smug? Maybe. Yes, actually.
And when he finds something that he thinks would match with your tastes, he’ll get it for you without even thinking twice.
Scaramouche who always goes to bed late, even on days where he isn’t gone for work. Does he enjoy it? No, not really. But does he do it anyways? Yes. He doesn’t expect you to stay up and wait for him, nor would he be pleased by you losing sleep because of him.
When he walks into your shared room and sees you sleeping peacefully, he’ll make his way over to his side of the bed and carefully sit down. There’s an odd yet gentle glint in his eyes as he gently traces his fingertips over the slopes of your skin. When you subconsciously lean into his touch and shuffle closer towards him, something akin to guilt and grief bubbles up in his stomach, yet at the same time he bursts with adoration for you and the trust that you so effortlessly give him, even in your sleep.
There’s a part of him tells him that you could do so much better than be with someone like him. You could leave him at any point for someone else, someone who will treat you better, someone who will make you happier, someone human. And he knows it. And while he just wants the best for you, whether he’ll admit it or not, he is also a selfish man. He’d do anything to keep you by his side. He just wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you left him — it would tear him apart.
You tossing him to the side and leaving him is one of, if not his most greatest fear. And he’ll do anything and everything in his power to make sure it never happens.
Scaramouche who was fascinated by the notion of ‘true love’. In the years he spent his time being but a humble traveller in Inazuma, he came across a good number of couples in love. He met many different ones: old and young, wealthy and poor, those who were like night and day and so many more. Yes, he didn’t pay too much attention to them, but he couldn’t help but often wonder what it would be like to experience such feelings of adoration for someone. Was he even deserving of something so beautiful? Was it possible?
When he joined the Fatui, he decided that the concept of love was stupid. ‘It’s useless,’ he said. ‘It’s all bullshit,’ he said. Well, he changed his mind once he met you and found himself completely and utterly enamoured by you.
He’s grateful he got to experience such a complex yet simple thing with you, even if he still acts like he’s above it all. (who’s the stupid one now, bitch?)
Scaramouche who keeps you the fuck away from anything Fatui related. Getting you associated them is a dangerous game and you both know it, which is why he prefers to keep you in the dark about the more deeper aspects of his career. He will talk shit about his co-workers and subordinates with you, though. Usually, it’s amusing, but sometimes it’s plain concerning. You’re used to things being that way with Scaramouche, though. He’ll vent to you about how stupid and incompetent his underlings are without even realising it, it just slips out.
A lot of the Fatui know that you exist, but they don’t know who exactly you are, and Scaramouche plans to keep it that way. You stay safe and he gets to keep you all to himself — it’s a win in his books.
Scaramouche who always takes the time to read the letters you send him thoroughly, no matter how lengthy they are.
will send you letters whenever he’s away from you. His letters typically consist of him complaining about something, feeling violent and then saying that he would much rather be spending time with you. His letters will either be on the more detailed side or very brief depending on how busy he is, there’s no inbetween. Whether he’s in a rush or not, his handwriting will always stay the same. It’s probably the prettiest handwriting you’ve ever seen. He definitely takes pride in how neat his letters look, too.
Scaramouche who nevers fails to end his letters with:
You would just be laying on your bed or your sofa, one hand holding your phone while the other gently brushes through Suna’s silky hair, his cheek pressed right up against the side of your chest as he listens to the thumping of your heart beat.
An itchiness suddenly appears on your face, so you lift your hand up from your boyfriend’s head to quickly scratch your face but you pause when you hear him groan loudly. Following that came a very dramatic ‘no’ which was muffled by the fabric of your shirt.
He lifts his head, looking up at you with a hard stare, his green-eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks in such a serious manner that you can’t help but let out a tiny chuckle at his dramatics.
“Just scratching my face.” you reply simply, a smile making its way onto your face.
Suna glares at you for a second more before grabbing your hand — but very gently — and plopping it back onto his head where it belongs. He moves back into his original position, nuzzling his cheek against your chest. “Should’ve used your other hand.” he mumbles as you warmly laugh at his pettiness.
“Apologies, my liege.” you say quietly in a teasing tone, your hand going back to caressing his hair just the way he likes it. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
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