Scaramouche x Debate Club <3 - eisbeloved - 原神 (2024)

Chapter 1

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Scaramouche looked at the claymore, he wondered what more it could do to taunt him like this… it’s just an inanimate object yet the sexual power it held over his was so strong he could feel himself getting harder by the second.

Hastily, he snatched the club in his petite hand and rammed it into his tense anus. Painful screams erupted from his soft lips yet pleasure coated them. Down below a pile of cum and blood poured out onto the marble flooring. ‘sh*t, I just polished that,’ he thought but nevertheless, he continued to annihilate his ass with pleasure and cruelty until he could handle it no longer…

Chapter 2: Scaramouche shoves another debate club up his arse <3

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It had been a few days since Scaramouche had encountered that special weapon. He had made sure to clean up and hide away his most prized possession, if anyone ever found out about this… it would end him. After coming back from a long day of fighting things, he began to undress however, when he opened his wardrobe… it fell out. Scaramouche couldn’t resist it anymore. This urge to feel such pain combined with unyielding pleasure… he yearned for it. Without hesitation, he grasped the club. His breath shaky yet hands steady, he plummeted the claymore deep within his ass. The horrific sensation surged through his frail body as his back arched and eyes squeezed shut. The scars, that had just healed from the last incident, tearing back open and that familiar red liquid poured out once again. Salty tears streamed out his violet eyes, and he continued to thrust the club into him. Scaramouche couldn’t hear anything, other than his own moans and screeches. Until, he was broken out of his sick trance…

Chapter 3: Continuation of Scaramouche’s Ass Adventure

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His eyes closed so tightly only the shift in lighting made him aware of the figure above him. In fear, scaramouche shot his eyes back open, only to see the ONE person he never wanted to meet in this situation, “Heyyy Scara~ Want some help?” Normally, Scaramouche could deal with this twink but, he was so overwhelmed with painful pleasure that he was on the brink of his high. All he could do was whine and nod. “Your arm is getting tired, let me take it from here.” The figure took hold of the weapon… and Scaramouche could feel the shift in control. Before, when he used the club, it shook within as his tired hands tried the best they could to induce pleasure. Whereas now, the operator had a firm grasp and a steady rhythm. “Mmmh… urrrgghaaaaa!~” Tears continued to flood out his eyes as the user began to pummel with much more force. Scaramouche felt his high coming and… other things too. He tried to hold back to save embarrassment but, he was already this far, how worse could this get…?

Scaramouche knew he would regret this but, he was so stimulated by agony and enjoyment that his head clouded with one soul purpose. Come. The figure did one last harsh thrust into his torn anus and scaramouche began to tingle. It came from his toes, to his knees, then his hips and finally, to his co*ck. His tiny little hard co*ck. It was an eruption of blood and sem*n and it fell upon the person, club and floor once again. Scaramouche tingled after fulfilling his high, and soon came to his senses to fully registered who the man was at the end of him, “CHILDE?? WTF!!” Scaramouche snatched his club away and scurried into a corner. “ Look I’m not one to hate on someone’s kinks but… mate🤨🤨🤨” With that, the ginger left and Scaramouche was dumbfounded. He burnt the claymore later that evening.

Chapter 4: Scaramouche and the ashes <3

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Scaramouche was tired. Scaramouche was lonely. Scaramouche was horny.

Ever since he burnt his most prized possession, Scaramouche felt a part of him was missing. Yet the embarrassment and horror he encountered last time was almost too much to bear... He kept trying to convince himself that the feeling of dread after Childe had aided him was fear of losing the respect Scaramouche had earned in the fatui... but to be truthful, the dread was there because he enjoyed it.
Scaramouche enjoyed being watched, being seen, being felt... It made him feel alive, more alive than killing those that wronged him. They were dead, they couldn't see him now.
Yet so was the club. The club that he loved. The club that he held. The club that he so ruthlessly burned in front of his very eyes.

Scaramouche raced back to his lodgings, not a care in the world for the mess of blood and screams he left behind. He needed something. To... feel something...

The petite purple man burst through his wooden doors, flinging open his wardrobe doors and reaching for a jar. It was a small, ornate jar with gold detailing around the edges of picture depicting war and... love.
Scaramouche tore off the lid and a shower of grey power flowed above him. Some of the silver spikes still remained, mixed in with the ashes of the claymore.
The sight alone was enough to get Scaramouche riled up. His knees buckled and he collapsed on the hard ground, curling into a fetal position. Scaramouche's dick was released in a flurry of haste.

He began to twitch within, Scaramouche finally realised how much he truly missed the weapon. So much so, that he managed to create a bond with it. It was as if the club was Scaramouche's host and Scaramouche was dependent of it. He couldn't survive without it...

Chapter 5: Scaramouche pulls a Yoonbum cont.

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As Scaramouche quivered in the fetal position, soon enough his tiny co*ck became erect once again.

The ashes of the past weapon snuck into every pocket and crease of skin he had; riling him up even more…
Tears streamed from his eyes in a mixture of guilt, longing and pleasure as he jerked himself off. Scaramouche grabbed a band full of ash every single time he went to rub up and down his slim shaft.

Distorted moans poured out of his mouth, cum flooded out of his member. Between these harsh groans, Scaramouche let out heart-wrenching confessions, “nngh~ I- I never should have…mmmh burned you-ugahhh~~ you w-w-were the only dear uhhng~~ thing to…mmmfh me~~~”

Not long after, Scaramouche’s entire body began to shiver from the inside out. His toes wiggled in ecstasy and his head flung back in relief. He called out until he was left with nothing other than a soggy pool of a powdery, grey solution.
Finally, him and the club were permanently ‘together’, mixed together, forever. As one.

Chapter 6: A visitor

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Ever since the ashes event, Scaramouche continued to long for the excruciating feeling again. He was so pent up it hurt. It hurt worse than the actual activity itself.

Tonight Scaramouche sat in bed, fire dying out, lights dimmed and a finger up his ass.
Scaramouche leaned back in his single bed, his slim index finger squirming around up his anus nevertheless, no pleasure followed. He sat still, staring at his faux fur rug that sprawled out in front of his fireplace. There was nothing left in him. All his past sensitive scars had all healed up, there was no proof, no memories left of his beloved claymore in him.

Scaramouche suddenly woke up from his trance when he heard voices outside. Maybe not voices per se but vocal noises. There was deep panting, slurping, moans, groans and so on. These noises made Scaramouche curious. His interest was piqued. And his longing for touch grew even larger…
No shame left in him, Scaramouche cracked open him door ever so slightly. A singular violet eye peeping out the slit landed upon a slim girl being harshly held up against the wall by a familiar ginger man. His emotionless sea blue eyes stared up at the dark ceiling above. The girl was a moaning mess however it seemed the ginger couldn’t care less…
On the other side, Scaramouche cared. Oh he cared a lot. His needs were nearly being met completely. Oh to be that girl. To have his needs met like that.

Without hesitation Scaramouche reached down towards his own member. He copied the pace the couple were going at. Soon, he too became a moaning and groaning disaster. Unfortunately, Scaramouche had to stifle his cries of pleasure. Luckily, that girl was so loud he was drowned out. However, one person did hear Scaramouche’s calls, no one other than the ginger himself. The man finally glanced away from the roof and not towards the girl he was ruthlessly f*cking but the purple-haired man himself, Scaramouche. Scaramouche panicked, which only caused the ginger to smirk and strengthen his eye contact with him. Scaramouche abandoned his position at the door and fell into the corner beside it. Despite his embarrassment, he continued touching himself.

Scaramouche could still clearly hear the outside activities and he heard the male speak for the first time, “Hey, doll… let’s go into the spare room. There might be some entertainment in there…”
Scaramouche knew the last part was not meant for her but for him instead. His stomach dropped. What if she was to see him? What if the man will mock him? Well the latter was bound to happen, yet despite all the negative outcomes, Scaramouche got excited. The longing he was patiently waiting for to be cured was about to be.

Soon enough, the two burst into his room. Fortunately, he realised that the lights and fire were low enough to only see the couple and not himself in the corner.

Scaramouche noticed a change in the gingers attitude. It was as if he was putting on a show… just for him…

When the lady finally finished up, the male showed her out. Scaramouche sat there dumbfounded. What just happened? However, he was not yet finished unlike that lady.
“Alright you freak, you can come out now~”
Sheepishly, Scaramouche emerged from the corner. He was shaky both from embarrassment and his activities, “Tartaglia what the he-“ He was cut off, “Shut it and let me help… again.” Scaramouche remembered the last time Chile assisted him. “Look, your doing it all wrong!” The ginger removed his shirt then pulled Scaramouche’s trousers off. Childe bent down onto his knees, “H-hey what are you doing?!” Scaramouche half-yelled, shocked. “I told you to shut it! Don’t make this into something just, you were annoying me. Let me do it properly for you…”

With that Scaramouche did shut it. But not for long. The taller male slide his mouth over the other’s hard co*ck. Swiftly, Scaramouche slammed a hand over his lips in hope to muffle anymore lewd expressions escaping. “Oi~ I’m not doing this just for you not to enjoy it! Show me how good I am~ Let me hear you!” With the man’s confirmation, Scaramouche removed his sweaty palm and let out a harsh moan. The noise caused the other man to respond with a subtle groan onto his dick.
Scaramouche threw his head back in ecstasy. “Tar…Tartaglia I can’t… can’t hold my- mmpph~ self… nghhhh ahhhh~~”
Childe listened and quickly changed positions. Now, Scaramouche was laid back against the wall, legs spead and knees up. The ginger was on all fours continuing to suck off the small male. Scaramouche was going mad! His head was spinning and the one causing this was no other than his rival coworker!

He could never tell what was going through the lengthy male’s head but he never assumed this… But damn him, he was so f*cking good~ “Mmmph~ Tartaglia you feel so ummmph~~ good! f*ck you ahhh~” In response, Childe let out a deep, horribly attractive moan onto his co*ck leaving pleasurable vibrations to travel up the rest of Scaramouche’s body.

“Tartaglia~ s-stop!! I’m, mmmph~ I’m going to, to cum !! Ahhhhh~~” the male refused to shift his head and only pushed on deeper! Scaramouche flapped his feet on the floor in protest. But, with one final harsh suck ending with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound, Scaramouche came. He came so much. Yet, Childe held it all in his mouth.
Scaramouche stared at him in shock, “Tartaglia you didn’t, hah~ have to do tha-“ He was cut off once again but this time by the ginger gripping his jaw, forcing his lips to stay parted then let Scaramouche’s very own seed dribble into his mouth. Childe held eye contact then proceeded to clean up the excess sem*n off Scaramouche’s pink lips and swallowing it himself.

Childe calmly stood back up, throwing his shirt over his shoulder. Scaramouche hastily tried to cover himself up again, “Night whor*~”
With that, the ginger left. Once again leaving Scaramouche dumbfounded.

Chapter 7: 20k Special <33

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20k Special!

Scaramouche wandered the rainforests of Sumeru. He fled the fatui base in guilt and embarrassment for what he had done there. It was time to find his new self, his true self.

Scaramouche felt the unfamiliar air hit his lungs after each unfortunate breath. Why was he even here? His mother hated him. His mortal friends hated him. Even his ex-colleagues hated him, so much so they didn’t care if he disappeared or nearly died. What did he have? What was permanent in his life? Well… maybe something that wasn’t a constant memory of how sick of a being he is.

Nevertheless he still called out for it. Scaramouche knew how wrong it was, knew how disgusting it was, knew how painful it was. But what else did he have to lose at this point? Nothing.

At this point, it didn’t even have to be a debate club. It didn’t have to be even a weapon. Scaramouche dashed to a tree. A giant tree. A tree with plenty of cover from onlookers or fungi… well maybe not all fungi.

Hastily, Scaramouche striped off all his annoyingly layered clothes and prepared himself for what he planned next. A lengthy, smooth root of the tree peeked out of the muddy earth, it was thinner at the top but got more girth later on…
Eager, Scaramouche slid onto the tip of the wood and let out a deep, guttural moan, one of relief and much needed pleasure.

He felt at peace. Finally free. Freedom surged through him. Scaramouche had no one constantly watching over his shoulder, double checking his every move, telling him what to do. He was alone. He was free. With this, a bright light flashed before him, the shock made Scaramouche jump and the hard root plummet further up, an anemo vision fell into the pile of discarded clothes. He watched as his once binding clothes shifted hues into ones that suited him and his new self more. Shades of teal, white, black, blue and gold coated the murky ground beneath them.

Mesmerised, Scaramouche wiggled slowly on the branch, this was not what he had in mind. Little did Scaramouche know, he wasn’t the only one drawn to the sudden show of lights. Four cheeky fungi caught glimpses of this spectacle and rushed towards it, only to find a very naked, very vulnerable man being sexually impaled by a tree.

The floating hydro fungus went over to the male first, Scaramouche was skeptical until the wet shroom lowered onto his erected penis. Another disturbing groan left his pink lips as the hydro fungus started a pumping motion around him, it had a slight suction and gave out a ‘schlop’ sound when reaching the tip.

Next to join was the stretchy electro fungus, this one latched onto Scaramouche’s abdomen and sent electrical pulses into his genitals and anus. Scaramouche felt overwhelming pleasure rocket through his frail body. Soon, the sparky fungus began vibrating, this lead to the horny man throw his head back.

Finally, with this perfect opening the whirling cryo fungi entered his mouth, providing a gag and a muffling to all the erotic sounds escaping from Scaramouche’s mouth. He began to drool, it freezing at his tense lips. Now, the stretchy geo fungus took Scaramouche off the splintered tree root and he adjusted himself onto all fours. Wobbly, Scaramouche held himself in that position, his skinny back arching in on itself as the rocky spore drilled its way into Scaramouche’s tense ass.

Carnal moans threatened to escape his chilled lips but were blocked. God was he overstimulated now. His co*ck wet not only with hydro reactions but with sperm as well, he was reaching his org*smic high.

Then, he did it. He came. Hot sem*n came shooting out his co*ck yet the fungus soaked it all up. Suddenly, all the fungi detached from Scaramouche, seemingly filled with pleasure too and coming themselves. He didn’t know what was coming out of them but they all left as quickly as they… came.

Scaramouche cleaned himself up and dressed himself, attaching his new vision onto them too. Calmly, he sat under that tree for a while, realising that he had nothing tied to him. Not an archon. Not an evil organisation. Not a nation. Not even a claymore. He was free.
Scaramouche was free.

Chapter 8: Scaramouche and his little (big) robot (30K SPECIAL YIPEE)

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*BANG*

Scaramouche fell. Detached from all the pipes and wires that once connected him to the only thing he’s ever wanted, a gnosis. More importantly, his mother’s gnosis. It gave him so much power, so much energy; he loved it. He couldn’t let it go. Alas, he had to, after being defeated greatly by that damned Traveller he plummeted to his doom, his end. There was nothing left for him. Without power, without a gnosis, without godhood, Scaramouche didn’t have anything.

When Scaramouche awoke, the hall was dim and shattered. His head hurt and his ears rang… his co*ck ached. Wearily, Scaramouche stood up, he noticed a barely lit purple flare, flickering across the room. He edged closer to it, curious. Gasp. Despite the gnosis being taken, some dribbles of its energy still resided in the depths of the puppet.

A dark feeling came over Scaramouche, there wasn’t anything he could think of that he would go back to. He deserved this moment of relief, of pleasure…

He noticed the robot has humanoid features including a dick, lucky Scara.

Excited, Scaramouche strode over to the metal co*ck and propped himself up on it - he swear he could hear the groan of iron as he sat. Scaramouche began swaying, rubbing, riding. “Mmpfff~” this was just what he needed. Though his purple head still spun and his stomach queazed, he’s never EVER felt so good. The light across the room grew brighter each time the small man caressed and rose from the prick.
Suddenly, the light flashed and the groan of metal became a scream of metal. The automaton got up and its ‘penis’ began pumping, mechanically thrusting itself into Scaramouche’s tight anus. “Aughhh~ nghhhh~” the man moaned loudly, no care in the world. He only cared how good it felt. The cold iron filling up his ass and leaving a trail of warm, smooth cum in its place, Scaramouche’s own co*ck pulsed with joy. His balls swiftly began filling up, near bursting with sem*n.

Then, one final thrust from the robot, Scaramouche came. Cum shot out his terribly erect dick and splattered all over the near dead puppet and his tummy. As if it knew, the automaton retracted the artificial co*ck; Scaramouche sat there, panting. His own dick became limp once again and he sighed with relief feeling the last of the gnosis sit, dripping out his loose anus.