𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕄𝕖 [Scaramouche x Reader]

• 22 ~ The Truth Will Shatter •

Credit: https://twitter.com/_su81/status/1366049368009297920?s=12

• • • ᯽᯽᯽ • • •

One soul will drift away.

And a million will follow behind.

In the end, the destination will always be set in stone.

And you still choose to struggle.

To cut yourself from the ties of destiny.

The only way forward is empty

And you've learned to despise the void.

Now, when the time has come,

You chose pain...

...over nothingness.

• • • ᯽᯽᯽ • • •

[Y/n POV]

Y/n's eyes fluttered open, only to find themself lying in the snow. Time seemed to stop still. There was silence, an odd peacefulness in the atmosphere.

Then came the realisation.

"Oh..."

The pain in their chest had settled down. The ache in their head had calmed. All that was left were memories they didn't know what to do with.

A second time, Y/n found themselves in the Tsaritsa's clutches. In the end, their attempt to break free proved futile.

Their adventurer's bag lay beside them, and near it was the box Tsaritsa had entrusted to Y/n. They were given a task. It was something they had to fulfill if they wanted to keep living.

The cost of living...

Y/n reached for the bag and hugged it close to them. Its existence felt unreal. Their lost memories were fresher in their mind, to the point where their time in Mondstadt felt like a distant dream.

The only destination they had now was to reach Scaramouche. Y/n was chained to him again. Back on step zero.

They closed their eyes, tears landing on the snow underneath.

Y/n cried silently. There was no pain in their heart anymore. Only silent tears.

Why did he have to bring me back if he didn't want me beside him anymore...?

To resurrect a person simply to fulfill a last wish. That was so ridiculous. His reasons were so ridiculous.

Y/n turned the memories in their mind a bit more. From them, they could picture the kind of person Scaramouche was.

Rude... a little full of himself... he seemed to have a big mouth. At the same time, Y/n remembered being happy when he was around.

But those memories still felt foreign to them. Y/n couldn't feel as if they experienced all those moments themself.

They didn't remember the taste of the food they'd eaten with him... the impact of the snowballs he'd thrown at them... or the feeling of the coat he'd given them before it became torn and crumpled with dried blood...