We had zhongli as a big brother, now I'm presenting:
scaramouche as a big brother, and that includes sharing mommy issues
.💭
ah, yes, the shortie with anger and mommy issues himself. anon, be honest, do you actually want this man as your older brother because i'd be concerned (/j).
1) communicating through insults. if there is ever such a thing as an allergy to speech, he'd definitely be allergic to each one besides sarcastic remarks and jibes. that is the language he is most fluent in, alright? deal with it.
2) concern hidden in plain sight. he looks out for you from afar such as dispatching a subordinate to report your status to him without your knowledge or making sure that there's nothing in your way — he plays it off, though. scara claims it's because he "can't trust you for one second", but it really is because he's a little worried that you're getting roped into some stupid trouble.
3) the mommy issues... he'd prefer if you don't, or better, never bring up that god in any conversations with him. he doesn't want to be reminded of her in any way, he doesn't need words of comfort nor can he offer them to someone else, even you. all he can do is to let you deal with them on your own because that is how he deals with his feelings on that wretched event in his history. (wdym sibling therapy sessions? nah, we don't need that <3 /j)
LOCKED AND LOADED [Yandere!Wanderer x Reader]
Prompt: The world is about to end. How will you grieve when you're forced to be with a miserable man until the last second? [Dedicated To: @mixed-kester for the Alone Together Event]
Content Tags: yandere!scaramouche "fluff" oneshot (yes, there are no other parts:]), major persona 3 spoilers but you DON’T need to know the game before reading this since everything is explained, improper use of a S.E.E.S evoker /j, Scaramouche is so normal about you, UNRELIABLE NARRATOR, major character death/s–
"Where the hell are you, (Y/n)?"
Standing near what should have been the front doors of his university was a short man with dark purple hair. He leaned precariously against them, his head tilted upward as if the sickly green moon's ominous pull was nothing to be afraid of. Gekkoukan University's nearby dorms– fraternity and sorority houses included– are not usually this silent. Instead of people, coffins were aligned perpendicular to the ground.
The wanderer glanced at his watch with mild interest. He had been waiting for a while now. Your guest hoisted himself up, circling the ground with the tip of his shoe. The baseline of his attitude had always defaulted to irritability and passive-aggressiveness. The vertically aligned hour-and-minute hands do not placate it. The timing itself makes it worse.
It's December 31st, 2009, 12 AM– the Dark Hour.
With a harsh sneer, he pocketed his hands. You usually have the door to the Velvet Room open to him whenever. What's the big deal? Were you seriously THAT mad at him? Really? He didn't do anything to warrant this "pettiness". He had never known silence as much as this moment.
You should've accounted for the hostility that proceeds on the "off-chance" he did arrive early.
His tone darkened, his bloodied hands gripping his S.E.E.S evoker tightly.
"If you don’t show up, I will cleanse the world of human emotion all by myself"
You shook from afar, afraid of how he wouldn't hesitate to make his threat a reality. He had already taken so much– you were beyond mad at him. You were terrified. Wronged. Abused. You didn't want to step into the light. Much worse, step into his shadow.
The worst thing evil can do is to turn you into one of them.
He clutched the bloodied yellow scarf in his hands tightly.
Why did this happen?
How did things END up like this?
You took a deep breath and charged forward.
You don't trust [Wanderer] ever since Ryoji told him about the impending apocalypse.
Seldom do you leave the Velvet Room. You weren't hiding in the Velvet room months before the end of the world was imminent. When April had only reached its fourth day, there was nothing you wanted more than to spend time outside. So ignominiously innocent. You did not know who [Wanderer] was and how much effect he would have on your life at the time. You were just tired of the ongoing stream of uneventfulness.
And now here you are, berating the protagonist in full.
"[Wanderer], why is Ryoji missing?! US ATTENDANTS CAN'T FIND TRACK HIM ANYWHERE!!!"
With a fistful of his university uniform, you yanked him by the collar. Your eyes were livid as you reeled your composure. This wasn't what you had in mind when you were "isekai"d into a video game. Out of any game, why did it have to be Persona 3? And out of anyone that could be a protagonist, why did it have to be HIM?!
You thought this would be a grand affair... Whatever they spun in anime back when your reality existed were pure lies. Where are the scenic views? The mountains? The grasslands? This plane of existence you're forced to sit through for eternity was far from the RPG fantasy people would hope for. No closer you could ever be to paradise.
In fact, this man is threatening to ruin said paradise.
[Wanderer] pulled your hands away forcefully. His glare was not that different from yours. "Why do you care about him so much?"
"Oh, I don't know! Maybe it's because his death means forgetting everything?!" You clenched your empty fists. "You know damn well what happens if he dies! You'll lose all the help you can get to stopping the Fall!"
Such a heavy weight on your shoulders but the protagonist doesn't care. This may be a turn-based game– but it wasn't based on you. If it was, you wouldn't be screaming your heart out at him! You wouldn't be an NPC. Hell, you'd probably be a better protagonist than him.
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed every stress out of your system.
"Listen—" You rubbed your temple. "You need to start forming bonds. Social links. Support system. Confidants. Whatever you want to call it. You were supposed to have the answer by now as to what life is for."
[Wanderer] remained silent throughout your spiels. His facial expression alone was enough to infer immense disinterest. You were mindlessly doing your job. There will be no tirade or physical aggression that can convince him that you believe in your assertions with full conviction.
"Do you want to see him?"
"Yes! Of course. Knowing you, you're—"
"Tempted to kill him because you think I want the world to end?"
"Obviously."
That's where you're wrong.
A nihilistic man can have other reasons to commit murder.
"But if he's missing, you can forget about him, right?"
"What on earth are you talking about?!"
[Wanderer] turned around. "Meet me later, you know the time."
"I'll show you where Ryoji is."
XX/09/2009
He doesn't recall the time he was brought into this world like you had.
Puppets are malleable. Memories are easy to overwrite when your body is held together by white wood and "khemia". His past evades him.
Maybe it's better this way.
He took you to Chagall Café. Although it was your first time out in a long while, he had no qualms about ignoring your questions. He feigned deafness as you asked about the news, his college life, friends, or anything related to what was happening in 2009. And he even ignored your humble request to buy the cheapest coffee for you. Instead, he bought you a chocolate frappe.
"For Elizabeth's cutest little sibling." He said, sarcastically copying Elizabeth's tone as he sharply handed the drink. "Wouldn't want everyone's darling to get a caffeine addiction."
Thanks, asshat.
Of all his offensive behavior— he really spent more money just to insult you. You shook your head and accepted it. It's the most expensive one on the menu too. What dedication to being a hater. But before you could open your wallet, he shot your payment down.
"Just take it." He smirked. "Look at you, paying me back for treating you poorly. Are you a masochist?"
You immediately shoved your money back in. "You still bought me a free drink, so really, who's the loser here? Prick."
[Wanderer] laughed heartily before he pulled out his battered codal, which had underlined texts for provisions he deemed important. There was a momentary softness in his gaze that disappeared in an instant.
But that's the only conversation he planned on having that evening. He did mention he'll drag you out in his study session so you weren't too shocked by it. Instead, you sat and awkwardly people-watched. The world you came from and this one were identical. You got through your old 2009 just fine— it's just that Tatsumi Port Island was not a real location from your original Japan.
Your memories about the video game Persona aren't very clear since you reincarnated in the game, but the red band [Wanderer] wore on his sleeve affirmed that he is the leader of S.E.E.S. It's nice to know that someone like him has the potential to become a leader.
[Wanderer] appeared wholly immersed in his studies.
…
Maybe he wouldn't notice if you looked around—
…?!
He immediately grabbed your hand. You yelped slightly as you noticed the iron grip he had.
"Where are you going?"
Don't leave him.
He squeezed just a bit more tightly.
"W-What the— I'm just going to the bathroom." You felt a shiver down your spine as you shared his gaze. There's a dull coldness to it you couldn't quite place, as if he had been a witness to injustice, sevenfold.
You quietly sat back down. He still hasn't let go of your hand.
"Good riddance." He muttered.
"If it isn't [Wanderer]!"
You turned around, yanking your hand away.
It's Ryoji.
You stood up, gawking.
"W-Woah, are you okay?" Ryoji asked, hurriedly approaching you. While you were frozen in place, [Wanderer] looked at his empty hand, feeling your warmth escape his fingertips.
G-Good… he's still alive.
You thought [Wanderer] killed him.
[Wanderer] is the wildcard, and that's a terrifying factor to consider. He hasn't shown any interest in humanity. Knowing his past has not increased any hope on your end. Everyone else in his eyes are insignificant insects.
He has the power to end Ryoji.
He has the power to end this world.
Locked and loaded.
Ryoji's eyes softened. "Wait, I think I know a beautiful face like yours from somewhere… You must be [Wanderer]'s attendant, (Y/n), right?"
You blinked.
"Wait, how did you…"
He chuckled, taking and placing a soft kiss on your gloved hands.
"I have my ways." Ryoji winked.
"Don't touch them." [Wanderer] sneered.
Ryoji stood up straight, unfazed by his threatening tone. You took a moment to examine his appearance. He had a lot of white clothing and a big yellow scarf around his neck. Just below his left eye is a mole. On the surface, he appeared quite human, but everyone seated at this table was aware of his true nature.
He is the 13th arcana. The appraiser.
You and [Wanderer] have every right to be wary.
"I'm Ryoji Mochizuki. It's nice to be officially introduced to you, Mx. (Y/n)."
"Ryoji Mochizuki…" You tasted the syllables.
"Oh? Who knew hearing my name from your lips makes it sound so wonderful."
"C-Cut it out, you don't mean that." You said, a little flustered.
[Wanderer]'s gaze fixated on you, stewing in his concoction of envy and misery. His fists were clenched beneath the table, knuckles turning white. With narrowed eyes, he watched as you continued engaging in conversation with Ryoji. His laughter was grating his ears. He couldn't bear the sight of you engaging with another man, especially someone as flirtatious as him.
Ryoji, sensing [Wanderer]'s distress, shot him a casual glance. To top the look, he paired it with a knowing smirk. He made mental notes of the man's clenched jaw and tensed shoulders.
"You seem a little on edge, [Wanderer]. Finals coming up?" He feigned innocence.
"It's December, and I'm not on edge." He scoffed, trying not to make his gritted teeth evident. "Don't you own a calendar? Finals are in March. To think a pea-brain like you managed to transfer to Gekkan…"
"Right, right." Ryoji smiled, closing his eyes. "Then it must be my proposal you're thinking of."
You stiffened; [Wanderer] did not.
"Ryoji—"
"I know, Mx. (Y/n)." He started. "I know you're not too keen on the idea of killing me. My existence is the affirmation of the Fall. None of you— sorry, I forgot (Y/n) is from the Velvet room— I meant none of them will live till Spring… Or perhaps it's more accurate to say they'll forfeit the will to live."
…
"… I-I'm sorry." Ryoji buried his face in his yellow scarf. There's a certain tremble in his voice that truly emphasizes his sorrow. "Just as all living things die, the flow of time cannot be hindered. But there's comfort in killing me. If you do… you won't have to suffer for the coming days."
If [Wanderer] kills Ryoji, Tartarus, the Dark Hour— the burden of everyone's memories will all disappear.
But [Wanderer] can retain his.
He's not originally from this world after all…
However, should he let him live, the rest of S.E.E.S's life will continue until everyone's inevitable demise.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
[Wanderer] rolled his eyes, diverting his eyes back to his notes. "Everyone will die soon, who cares? I've heard your spiel several times already. You need to get more entertaining material."
"[Wanderer]!" You scolded him.
Your eyes widened in disbelief at [Wanderer]'s unwittingly casual jabs at the apocalypse. You wanted to ask him if he was even listening, but the truth will disappoint you. A cold sweat formed on your brow.
Ryoji's smile crooked into a hopeless one.
"You depend on (Y/n) too much."
[Wanderer] froze. "What did you say…?"
"You have a group of people around you, eager to establish a bond— eager to be friends with you. You have met Junpei, Yukari, Mitsuru, Akihiko, Fuuka, and many others– but you don't consider any of them as your friends." Ryoji shook his head. "Instead, you spend your time with just (Y/n). Never anyone else. Just them. To the point that I think it's unhealthy."
"I don't care for humans." He replied immediately.
"You're human too, [Wanderer]." Ryoji shot back. "You're made of blood, bones, and flesh."
[Wanderer] fell silent. What Ryoji said was true, and yet…
"Am I?" He laughed.
The sound was hollow and mechanical. Deprived of genuine mirth. It did not sound forced, yet his eyes were dull.
…
Perhaps he lived as a puppet for so long that the idea of being human has yet to reach him.
Ryoji shifted, uncomfortably glancing between you two. The tension was palpable despite the cafe's peaceful ambiance. Ryoji cleared his throat softly.
"I should leave…" He trailed off, voice slightly wavering. His eyes darted around, scrambling for words to say. "But, um, before I leave, I just want to say again that you need to give it some more thought, [Wanderer]... It's a big deal… Just…"
Ryoji sighed. "Remember to make your choice to spare or kill me by December 31st. I'm glad you're having fun but don't get too distracted with (Y/n). I'll be waiting."
That being said, his footsteps reverberated loudly in the otherwise still room as he turned and headed for the door. He dared to turn back as he grabbed for the doorknob and saw you two sharing a look that he couldn't determine if it was one of contemplation or displeasure. He hurried out and the cafe door shut behind him.
"Happy?" [Wanderer] bitterly asked.
You paused for a moment… then grinned.
"Tsk, what are you laughing at, worm?"
"Nothing, nothing!" You shrugged. "I just thought that for a guy with a stick up his ass, you're cute when you're jealous."
That riled [Wanderer] up in an instant.
You do not know the full extent of his envy's filth.
"I am NOT—" He stopped, realizing how counterproductive it would be. "Whatever. I don't care."
"Uhuh?"
"Shut up and finish your damn chocolate!"
Before you know it, it's April.
"Seriously, you three, I'm bored as fuck! Can't I just take a stroll outside?" You yelled, waving the heavy persona compendium in the air as your sisters ignored you.
It hasn't been long since you reincarnated, so your right to go outside isn't as liberal. Given the impending threat of an apocalypse, the Velvet Room attendants are especially overprotective.
"(Y/n), dear sibling, watch your mouth! You mustn't let Igor or Nameless hear you speak so vulgarly."
Taking a good look at your new "siblings", you've noticed how almost everyone was present. Margaret sat elegantly on the sofa while Theodore & Elizabeth were doing their best to calm you down. It's almost rare to have all three in one place. The three oldest were busy-bodies who had more eccentric matters they devoted their attention to. Including rapping and dancing, though neither performances are good for your senses.
"If boredom plagues you, then you should try teasing Theodore." Elizabeth yawned. "He's easy pickings."
"Sister!" Theodore pouted. "Shouldn't (Y/n) focus on studying how fusing works? It would be a better use of their time…"
"The day (Y/n)'s new wildcard learns the value of social links might just be the day miserly politicians become generous." Elizabeth shrugged.
You paled, tugging her sleeve. "Oh fuck… Am I screwed?"
She gave you a lopsided smile. "I may be your new sibling but that does not mean I am obliged to resolve your problems, (Y/n). Learn to solve this on your own."
Theodore coughed.
"Please, stop scaring them, sister Elizabeth. It's not their fault this new guest is a cruel arbiter. I fear there will not be a second of groundless joy in store for them…"
"You're not helping me relax either! Motherfucker. Can't you two speak normally?"
"Settle down, all of you."
The four of you stood straight as Igor tilted his chin up. Though you've gotten used to his bloodshot gaze, it had a way of prickling your skin this time around. With his signature smile, he closed his eyes and snapped his fingers.
"Our guest is about to enter."
"W-Wait, RIGHT NOW?!?"
Before you could react, the room transformed into what appeared to be a large elevator. The walls were barred and creaking noises began to subtly make their presence. A floating door materialized, and soon, opened.
Dark purple hair and eyes, short frame, soft face.
"…Hmm?"
You blinked.
"Wait, no way…"
You know him.
Of course, you know him.
"Everyone, meet [Wanderer]."
You decided that you two should reintroduce yourselves and forget that the past ever happened.
For now, you had been gifted with a vital role: being the protagonist's attendant.
According to your Igor, your role is to assist your guest in fusing personas. He had chosen you specifically in advance as you are his "anima/animus figure". Initially, that job was for Elizabeth. However, your beliefs, your intuition, your emotions— they're in perfect tune with [Wanderer]. Igor expects you to facilitate their spiritual and psychological growth and implore them to interact more with others.
Which, based on that alone, sounds like this puppet just hired an unpaid therapist.
"What do you want?"
"Well…"
Since you became [Wanderer]'s attendant, you've started to have thicker skin. He will always make his crankiness known each visit. You're slightly grateful for it, for how else would you know patience otherwise? Though his personality rubs you the wrong way, his strength does have merits you cannot ignore. Even Belladona, the Velvet Room's devout singer, had sung praises for his mettle. There was one line that struck you about her song, something about him being like a puppet with a beating heart unbeknownst to himself…
Which is why you thought you might as well try to see if you could convince him to take you out sometimes.
"What, like a date?" [Wanderer] scoffed then smirked, a light blush on his face. "Are you really that desperate?"
"No, eww—" You rolled your eyes. "I meant it literally. Igor and the others wouldn't let me go outside unless I'm with someone they trust."
He looked away and covered his mouth, his shoulders trembling slightly.
"Like a child?"
"Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up." You deadpanned, your pride slightly chipped. "Like a child or whatever you want to see it, as long as it gets me out of here. I just want to see the world before it all…"
You paused.
Better not to bring it up. You're not sure if Igor told him yet.
[Wanderer] raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"
You shrugged. "Is money not enough?"
He paused.
…
"You've got to be kidding me— Fine, what else do you want?"
His eyelids lowered, hissing slightly. "Evil expects evil from others, huh? I wasn't trying to think of anything more, but now that I think about it…"
"Oh, great."
"… I can take your request," he pointed at you. "But only if you join me in the library. Anywhere else, especially loud places like clubs, I'll send your ass back."
That's a no-brainer.
"Deal!"
Though you've missed the peculiar sight, [Wanderer] had a small smile on his face as you shook hands. The two of you had become nearly inseparable since then.
Worryingly, he's closer to you than other humans.
The only relationship he needed was with you.
And with what little time this world has left, you hope you could have a last cup of coffee with him…
Your reality crumbled. What a START.
Your family, friends... all gone. No one was left. You convince yourself you "deserved" this punishment for smoking a life away with dreadful workloads, no matter how untrue it was. When the world burnt down, you were sent into a darkness you had not known before.
The person in charge of your reincarnation process told you that for the next few minutes, you and a selected companion will see your lives flash before your eyes in a void— and it will not necessarily be a comforting sight.
But you woke up relaxed. In an abyss filled with broken mirrors meant to depict your character to pieces, you donned a plain expression. There was not an inch of you that grieved for what was lost. Similarly, you had no care for how you were being transmigrated to another realm. Though you had grown accustomed to this isolation, humanity always struggled with silence. There was ringing on your fingers. When you unclasped your hands, you saw a pointed shard. Curiously, you clenched it. But no matter the tightness of your grip, no blood came out.
Your breath fogged up the glass. You wondered why that Memokeeper told you that you deserve to live on. You thought your life was rather unremarkable.
Makes sense. You thought to yourself. I'd rather pride myself on a boring life with integrity than an ambitious yet fraudulent one.
「Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Was that all your life was...? Then tell me, little (Y/n), why does the mirror in front of you appear distorted?」
And so, you gazed forward. Your reflection stood tall, larger than your life, and it beckoned you to come closer. This "(Y/n) (L/n)" had the opposite of a Cheshire grin- perhaps a caricature- perhaps an accurate depiction. Wearied of yourself and wearied of the sycophantic students around you. How unhappy are you to see yourself as someone like this? Are these the emotions you wish to be preserved? Is this the memory you want your world to be remembered by?
「These memories must be corrupted. Someone must be tampering with them. I do not think you lived a miserable life.」
I can't answer your questions either. But I think that reflection is who I am, because sometimes...
"I wish I had never been born at all."
Your lips were parted, but no sound came out. You resonated with those words, but they did not come from you. The voice was dark, hopeless, and alone.
When you were being sent off, you thought no one was around to greet you. There was another man. He had short hair and purple eyes- an incredibly rare sight in your world. This man seemed to be gazing at his reflection as well. You needn't know how he saw himself. The emptiness in his eyes did not differ from yours. He, too, was masking isolation as independence with an intense fragility. The dread he inflicted upon you was the closest you've ever gotten to facing your own perceived "weakness".
His memories were a mixbag. Some were filled with domestic bliss, but the anger in his heart triumphed more. He had friends but thought himself betrayed. His heart was constructed through a system of evasions, and he was a specialist in self-deception. This man knew little of emotions but had an abundance of it. It's no wonder he refused to sacrifice the artistry of his vengeance against humanity. You can sympathize with how he could not attach himself to those around him. He was burdened with malicious knowledge. Fakes. Lies. Insincerities. A class of his own.
However, he had a sin you cannot empathize with. A trait you can read that you're certain he had never noticed about himself.
He was a sickeningly beautiful man with a peculiar innocence.
He looked like a man who truly did not live in the real world.
This man did not feel real to you. He felt made-up. Fictional. His aura of flawlessness appalled you. Though you shared the same sentiments, you thought him dimensionless.
Yet this is supposedly your first meeting.
「Is it? Where have you seen him before? Can't you remember, dear (Y/n)?」
No. No, I can't.
「... What a shame. Worry no more, little (Y/n). Close your eyes. When you wake up, you will meet your new reality— new realm— new family.」
You nodded and agreed to a higher existence you did not believe in. Unlike others, you were a little bit more incapable of trusting a living soul. But there's no other choice.
Life is ordinarily far from anyone's control in the first place. Why bother fighting? If following can make her fuck off, it doesn't matter.
Nothing matters.
Wait…
Is that…
Scaramouche?
Before you closed your eyes and accepted your fate, you could've sworn...
He looked at you with a crooked grin.
「Thou art I... And I am thou...
Thou hast established a new bond...
Thou shalt be blessed when creating
Personas of the Universe Arcana..."」
"Hmm. Strange… Is that truly the order of the story?"
A woman stared at you.
Not (Y/n) (L/n).
YOU.
BEHIND.
THE.
SCREEN.
She smiled wryly.
Hate might empower you for a short while, but it comes at the cost of consuming you whole. Should a shard or any surface reflect [Wanderer]'s face, he would understand what he had become. However, it's too late. He had made his choice and stomped away any remorse he could have. When all is said and done, he alone will spread the ashes. He alone will stand. A blank slate.
[Wanderer] spent his life looking for scapegoats and ended up removing his responsibility.
Betrayals?
What a sad, sad puppet.
What a poor excuse to justify an entire apocalypse.
A poor excuse of a man.
"THE ARCANA IS THE MEANS BY WHICH ALL IS REVEALED." She muttered softly. "And you have been reading your story in REVERSE. Perhaps this is the only way this world can attain SALVATION. The chronological order is not a slice of life. You did not have a disagreement and decided to start your relationship over again. Life is far more WICKED."
"Read it again, but from DENIAL to ACCEPTANCE. The proper way to GRIEVE DEATH."
With great reluctance, she took the five cards laid on the table and placed them in an upright position.
"Let's see if you'd rather ACCEPT the truth or live in DENIAL."
Mixed-Kester can now message Wanderer [prior to 12/31/2009]
Pairings: Wanderer x Reader
Contains: Fluff, lots of yearning, platonic relationship, post-Archon quest
Word Count: 600+
Summary: After erasing himself from Irminsul, Wanderer thinks it will fix all of his problems. Instead, he finds himself with regrets.
Part 1 | Part 2
"You know I love you. Is it too hard to love me back?"
Those words continued to haunt him every time he sees you walking through Sumeru City's marketplace. That smile, those eyes --- he hates how much he misses them; how much he misses you. There's a tug in his chest whenever you look his way, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Maybe it's shame. Maybe he's just a coward. Neither of which he'd ever admit to.
Despite this, his heart continues to yearn for you. But it's too late, he decided. You have no memory of him. He is nothing to you, and you seem so at peace that he doesn't have the heart to break it.
It's the afternoon when he happens to come across you buying some baked treats for lunch. There's a lightness to your movement that comes from abandoning the Fatui and living a free life. Without his influence, he wonders what Irminsul has replaced your motives with to leave you alone here in the city. Wanderer stands at a nearby stall, casting you a subtle glance as he watches your hands smoothly take two wrapped pieces of bread. Pretty hands he wishes he could hold one last time.
"Just two will do, thanks. Well, actually, can I also get..."
Your voice is mostly the same, but there's a peace to it that he doesn't recognize. You sound happier without him; less stressed. Content. It's a pleasant sound that makes his chest clench. Would you have sounded this lovely had you not approached him back when he was Scaramouche? It's something he doesn't want to think about.
Wanderer snaps out of his thoughts as you thank the baker once more, turning away with a smile with a bag of baked goods in hand. Despite his noble intentions, he is not a noble man. Neither is he selfish, he can be so so greedy.
As you begin to walk down the path towards another stall, he intercepts you. Your shoulders bump lightly, enough to catch your attention.
"Ah, excuse me," you exclaim apologetically, a polite small smile on your lips.
It's not enough. He wants to see that affectionate smile you once gave him. The one that makes your eyes twinkle.
"Be more careful," he responds coolly, tipping his hat slightly forward to avoid your gaze.
But he simply can't help himself. He turns his head upward once more and catches your raised brow, eyes curious as you take in his expression. Your eyes were always beautiful up close, especially when lit up by the sun.
"You bumped into me," you reply, tone both accusatory and amused. "But I'll let it slide though since you're cute."
Wanderer feels a familiar heat in his cheeks. It's something so childish to be flattered by, but it's only because it's coming from you. He can only scoff in turn, glancing to the side as he tries to focus on anything other than you...but his eyes finds their way back as they lock onto that smile. It's full of mirth and sweet amusement. He's the only one you should be smiling like that for.
"Trying to use flattery to divert blame? How childish," he chuckles, crossing his arms nonchalantly.
A huff of a laugh leaves you as you roll your eyes. "It's not flattery if it's the truth." You look him up and down with interest and curiosity. It's clear that he's not from the city; though neither are you.
"Do you want to have lunch?" You offer with a small smirk. "We can argue semantics over some treats."
You hold up your paper bag, giving it a light shake.
He knows that he should say no and let you go on your merry way, but the chance to be this close to you is too tempting to pass up.
"I don't have anything better to do. Why not?" His voice is cool and collected, but he feels anything other than that. Had he a heart, it would be pounding in his chest.
Maybe this time, he could do things right.
Hello! I wanted to say i absolutely LOVE your writing about the Fatui, but i was wondering how the Fatui would be with a (def crazy) younger sibling around 10-11 years old possibly??
By crazy they could be participating into the same activities as their older siblings but stay away from the most bloody stuff bc they aren't allowed to bc of their sibling (we love an overprotective fictional older sibling❤️).
Idk why wanna see the younger sibling being so cute to all of the Harbingers and loyal to their empress but at the same time not hesitating to send an order to kill someone.
ALSO WHAT ABOUT TIME REVERSING MAGIC?? LIKEEEE IT SOUNDS FUN BUT YOU DECIDE ❤️❤️❤️
ilysm pls take care😭❤️
synopsis: Due to your craziness, you had trouble fitting in with most kids your age. Not to worry, you have your Harbinger family to take care of you now!
includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader
notes: Thank you, you're so sweet! I really love the idea of the Harbingers having this instinct to protect their mischievous, always getting into crazy trouble little sibling.
The first time the Harbingers heard of you was when they found out a whole camp of Fatui members was wiped out. Not by the Traveler, or an opposing military force, but by a child. Not even a teenager, but a little kid. Apparently, you had gotten caught stealing food from the camp and beat everyone up so you wouldn’t get arrested. What was more surprising was that this wasn't the first time you looted a camp. You had poor sneaking skills but you always dispatched the soldiers quickly before anyone got there. Besides the fact that they had to do something about this, the Harbingers were actually quite interested in you. It wasn’t every day you came across a child so much stronger than a group of soldiers.
It wasn’t hard to find out where you’d raid next, and a group of them lay in wait for your arrival. Soon enough, there you were apprehended by one of them, and you could hear them speaking about taking you back somewhere, and other big words you didn’t understand. The person wasn’t applying too much pressure on you. Well, they’d be wrong to underestimate you! You were the strongest kid in Snezhnaya!
You wiggled your arm up forward, but they didn’t pay much attention to you. In your hand, you gripped a small rock and eyed the explosive barrels near you. You think one of them noticed, but it was too late. With a sharp flick, it dove smack into the red barrel, and debris and mess went flying everywhere. The person holding you down had to release a bit to take cover from the explosion and you immediately bolted from there.
You had to be completely crazy to pull a stunt like that. You could have gotten injured - or worse!
You were giddy with excitement and adrenaline after that. You kind of gathered that you were quite different from other kids, but oh well. You made it as far as you could, but your legs were too short for you to run anywhere quickly. So your little plan was ruined when you promptly ran smack into an iron wall. That iron wall was the tallest man you’ve ever seen, and it hurt your neck to look up that high.
The next thing you knew, you woke up in the fluffiest bed ever, surrounded by pillows and cute plushies.
Pierro:
Admires your dedication to the Tsaritsa and all the Harbingers, but is stern in his decision to keep you away from the gory stuff. Proper soldiers must be level head and calm, Pierro says, which you are not. To keep you at bay, he lets you partake in some Fatui duties that don’t involve the cruelty aspect. (Introduces you to paperwork, I guess…) He’s not really sure how to deal with you… he’s used to the utmost respect everyone else gives him due to his status. But you? There are no rules in your world and you hang off his shoulder and fiddle with his mask. Also, the one who has to explain to you that no, you cannot go and try to kill someone for annoying you. When you try to act cute to try and get things to go your way, he thinks it’s endearing but it’s not working on Pierro!
Capitano:
Concerned for you, to be honest. Yes, you may be strong, but throwing yourself headfirst into these dangerous situations? You’re still so small, fragile, tiny… there are too many things that could go wrong. Every time you do even attempt something crazy, he is there, at your side, preventing it. Takes the role of your silent protector a lot more seriously than normal, simply because he doesn’t want you to get hurt because of your antics. Out of everyone he forbids you from engaging in any bloody activity the most. He wants you to do some normal kid stuff, but unfortunately, he himself has problems knowing what exactly that entails. Sits at his desk awkwardly while he watches you bounce off the walls.
Capitano thinks it’s cute when you come up with all these conspiracy theories about what’s under his helmet. At one point he started writing down everything you guessed and now a lot of pages have been filled up. He looks at it whenever he needs something to boost his mood. Is initially reluctant to fulfill your request of “throwing you up into the air and catching you” but he does it quite often because of how much you laugh. And it keeps you from going and fighting random people, at least.
Columbina:
She likes you a lot! Columbina is kinda crazy too, so you two get along like two peas in a pod. Only thing is she wants you to be able to relax too. Whenever you want to go out on some bloody mission, she’ll just hold you hostage (in a friendly way) and fall asleep with you kinda trapped there so you just fall asleep too. I don’t know why, but I think Columbina likes to sing a song about death when she’s killing someone. You unfortunately pick up on this.
Columbina’s the kind of person to cover your eyes whenever something non-child-friendly is happening. Also adores whenever you have your cute moments. I feel like she helps you choose your outfit when you declare that you’ll be a Harbinger one day too. She jumps on this opportunity to dress you up in pretty clothes. I feel like she can also switch from happy to deadly quickly so she can understand how you are.
Dottore:
Oh no… The Harbingers endeavor to keep the two of you apart to the best of their ability because you’re both just menaces. Dottore loves your craziness, he probably even encourages it sometimes to see how far you’ll go. You start adopting your own maniacal laugh like Dottore and he is so proud. If you’re willing, he’ll start going on about these crazy science topics and theories and you’re like - I’m just a kid… a crazy one, but still a kid who can’t comprehend all that… Also finds it highly amusing that Fatui recruits are terrified of you.
Even so, you’re still a kid so he doesn’t want you to get too much into it. If he sees you acting a bit too much crazy, he’ll stop you. He likes to help you tinker with stuff and build things. Thinks of you as his little minion assistant and secretly cherishes you a lot. Not gonna lie though, if you want someone dead, he’ll probably indulge you. He’s not very sane either…
Pulcinella:
He has seen his fair share of youngsters and even though he’s never met anyone like you, he still knows how to deal with you. I just know he can scold you to the point you feel bad for doing crazy things all the time. But then he does a big sigh and lets you off the hook “this time only.” Papanella’s the kinda guy to get you those color-by-number books and crayons and watch you color, finds it amusing when you don’t even use the right colors the book tells you to use. Encourages your creativity, in fact. Is touched when you give him a poorly kid-drawn picture of your Harbinger family. Puts it on one of the walls in Zapolyarny Palace so everyone can admire it.
Every time you try to get involved in the crazy bloody stuff, he just subtly tries to lure you with some different activities. Thinks it’s very important to have a nurturing childhood. Actually, he just bought this new brand of cookies to bake… he’s gonna need a helper, you know? Pulcinella’s probably successful with this multiple times, hanging out with grandpa is the best. (Probably tells you stories of his younger glory days.) Also lets you play with his cane and chuckles when you imitate him.
Scaramouche:
For some reason, you thought he’d be a good role model because you’ve seen him electrocute people, and were like ‘Hey I wanna do that too!” Scaramouche initially tells you to stop following him around but he still can’t help but have a soft spot for you. When you stole his hat and mimicked his laugh he gave up all attempts of trying to ignore you. Scaramouche’s another one who doesn’t mind the craziness but he prefers to let you not do that since he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. He actually thinks it’s amusing when you manage to outwit grown adults. Surprisingly, he still likes it when you act your age. His tone is noticeably gentler with you and he likes to watch over you and be your hidden protector. Also gives you random advice so you can look out for yourself in this world.
Arlecchino:
She has come across all kinds of kids in her orphanage. Shy and introverted ones, extroverted ones eager to prove themselves. But she has never come across one like you, which puts her a bit at a loss of what to do with you, because her normal disciplining is not working. Despite her efforts to hide it, all the other kids can see you’re definitely her favorite, and often flock around you to pester you with questions. A lot of them like to watch you do air punches and kicks so the orphanage is often lively now.
I can see Arlecchino being pretty overprotective of you, simply because she’s seen a lot of kids get hurt due to carelessness and mistakes so she frequently makes sure you’re not alone. In return, she’ll let you carry on for however long about anything you want. She’s a very good listener and has a good memory.
La Signora:
The one who has the urge to protect you from all horrors of this world the most. She lost her lover and her own humanity a long time ago, and to think about losing you brings her pain. Therefore, she’d much rather have you by her side as she yells at the new recruits rather than out in the world fighting people. There’s not much she can do about the craziness, but she tries to explain to you not to get into too much danger. You don’t know who you could lose, or what happens when someone loses you. You don’t understand much, but La Signora looks solemn and sad during these moments, so you tone down a bit and just lay in her lap while she strokes your hair. Likes to dress you up and do pretty hairstyles, eat good food, and generally do fun stuff with you. You should enjoy life for what it is while you can.
Pantalone:
Still spoils the hell out of you. He doesn’t know your backstory or childhood but he assumes it must not be good because of how you are now, which is something Pantalone can relate to a lot. So a lot of the time, he just spoils you, enough to forget about anything else. Often times he likes to sit there and watch you open all of your gifts. Pantalone stays in Snezhnaya most of the time and uses his experience to convince you to stay with him instead of trying to go out into danger. Instead teaches you accounting business and becomes your economics teacher so you can assist him (it doesn’t work very well.)
Sandrone:
She turns people into puppets and robots, so Sandrone can’t comment much on how you are, but she’s still gonna stop you from going out and committing mischievous acts. The kind of sibling who has her Automatons stand guard at every possible exit, even the windows, to prevent you from sneaking out and trying to go on a mission with everyone else. When you come back all cute and pouty, complaining about how strict she is, she just lets her other robots soothe you until you forget about it.
Childe:
In a way, you remind him of how he was when he was a kid. Childe doesn’t think he was as crazy as you though, and he did have a normal childhood before he fell into the Abyss, but he knows about the insatiable urge for battle and fighting. So he understands how you are a lot. The only thing is that he doesn’t want you to grow up into a killing machine like him. So he tries his best to expose you to normal kid things, and keep you away from all the bloody and gory stuff. Even when you beg him to let you come on a mission with him, or even to go clean up some Treasure Hoarders, he’ll say no every time since he really doesn’t want the image of him in blood etched into your mind.
He really loves when you get all adorable with him. You asking him to tell you a story? He’s buying all the bedtime story books across Teyvat and reading you to sleep every day. When he makes you meals and you get all pouty and pick out all the vegetables? He thinks it's so sweet and already considers you part of his family. But then you give him whiplash when you’re the first to offer to take out a target. Childe has already accepted that you’re not going to change your crazy tendencies, but he’s made it his responsibility to preserve your innocence and childhood, if only a little bit.
Time Reversing Magic:
When you told them you could reverse time, none of them really took you seriously. After all, kids tend to have a lot of daydreams and made-up abilities. But for once you actually seemed serious and said the first time you did it, you fell asleep for a week. And as kids get when people don’t believe them, you insist on proving your ability to them. Some of them find it cute how persistent you are, others are interested in why you chose to lie about time reversing of all things. Until they realize you aren’t lying.
You dropped a plate on the floor, and it clattered and broke into pieces. And then you closed your eyes and focused your energy on your hand directed at the plate. Before everyone knew it, the plate was back on the table unbroken, and you were lying on the floor. Chaos ensues.
The most interested one has to be Dottore of course. How did you do that? What kind of childhood did you have to develop that ability? Who are your parents? Are you even human? What are the consequences of this power? Then there are the ones who don’t really want you to use your power. What if you get seriously injured from using it too much or too long? They don’t want to see you hurt. You won’t have to use it anyway, they can protect you well enough. If anything, I think Pierro would know the most and be able to help you control it. He knows about Khaenri’ah’s secrets so he would know about all ancient types of magic.
Warnings: Spoilers for Archon Quest Chapter II Act III, yandere themes, some not SFW themes, and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 1.6k. Note: i just wanted to write simpmouche for a change.
You’re happy with him.
Not the superficial kind of happiness that’s fleeting as a breeze in the meadow. How you regard him — it seeps into your veins, into the recesses of your soul — and extends beyond feeling itself. The pitter-patter of hearts in the newfound throes of love, while still present, has been taken over by something more meaningful. Something promising. A silent acknowledgment of trust and belonging.
You’re happy with him.
His fingers, so familiar with your body, touch you with a tenderness that doesn’t betray his inner hunger.
He wants to ravish you, yet he always stops just shy of doing so. Behind his eyes lies a chained beast, salivating and desperate to be unleashed so it may devour you in your entirety, leaving no sign that you ever existed. One might ask, what would make a beast more frightening than it already is? To that, you would reply: the beast which holds the key to freedom but has enough forbearance not to use it until the time is right.
You’re happy with him.
Keep reading
hii! can i make a request?
I've been thinking about angsty things a bit. say if, reader got pregnant, would she hate it? how would scara/childe react? in my opinion, id like to think that scara thinks of this as a way to tie her down to him more, plus its canon he likes kids!! and as for childe i think he'd be very very happy since he has soooo many siblings, (maybe he wants a lot of kids too??)
and..what if reader miscarried? i have this thought of where scara would still be cold to her but give her breaks and more space than usual, but what if reader completely locks herself in and then when he confronts her about it they get into a huge argument, how would scara tackle that, would he resort to abusive tactics and would it increase readers hatred & distance more?
just a brainrot, you dont have to write about it if you're not comfy^_^
This took me so so so long!! I'm so sorry if you were waiting for it!!
I don't typically write for things like pregnancy because it makes me uncomfortable, but I'd be lying if I said I do not absolutely fucking adore angst and hopelessness.
Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
TW: 18+ MDNI, Dark Content, Forced marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Mentions of Dub/Non-Con
A week late turned into two. Two turned into a month. A month turned into three. And three turned into unusual cravings for foods that didn't go together. Sickness and vomiting clouded the hours of your mornings. Dread filled your body the second you realized what this was. Stress makes your cycles late, you told yourself, stress makes your entire body change, and this was a stressful situation, but stress wasn't causing this, was it?
Scaramouche could tell the changes in you immediately. As someone who constantly kept tabs on your life, it was only fair to assume that he'd noticed your slight fluctuation in weight and lack of asking for your monthly cloths. When you were called into his office, you felt a hot flash all over your body, you assumed it was fear, but it could've also been nausea.
His office was a place filled with dread. The air in the room was too thick and worst of all, he was there. The room made you feel small, the only good thing about it was that he was usually too focused on his mile high stacks of paperwork. Except today. Today his razor sharp gaze was focused on your trembling form as you bowed to him, his eyes following down, then back up.
“Answer me honestly,” he began, hands planted on the wood in front of him, “Are you with child?”
If you could throw up again, you would. Of course, you knew all this time, but you never wanted to say it. You hoped, just hoped and prayed that maybe if you never acknowledged it, it would all go away. It would all be a bad dream. But it was true. There was something disgusting living inside you. And it was his.
“I believe so, my lord,” the words couldn't even completely fall from your lips before you were a blubbering, sobbing mess of anguish and fear. Despite the fact that you were completely breaking down before him, he had a small smile on his face, like he was proud of what he'd done to you.
“That's good,” he said calmly, wiping away your tears and planting a forced kiss upon your face. His touch felt cold as ice, but his hands against you made you want to melt your skin away.
The reaction to the “good news” was immediate, whether that was good or bad was up in the air, but everything changed. The tight obi of all the kimono you owned would put too much pressure on your budding stomach, new one's were ordered to be ready as you grew more in size. Your diet was changed completely, less of the Inazuma raw delicacies and more lean meat and vegetables. Daily classes of calligraphy and tea ceremonies were switched to resting with your feet up or light stretching, everything to keep you happy and healthy during your pregnancy.
The biggest change was Scaramouche himself. A man filled with so much hatred and disgust, was suddenly being kinder. Or trying to at least. You watch him open his mouth to make a comment, only to shut it again in favor of saying something still rude, but less insulting.
The Scaramouche that believed that he could take your body whenever he pleased was long gone, even though that was what got you in this predicament in the first place. He'd taken to leaving you in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom to sate his urges. He'd come back with cold damp hands and lay next to you, a protective hand over your stomach as he kissed your cheek and told you how much he loved you.
The day you saw blood between your legs and felt an aching pain in your stomach was a joyous one indeed. A part of you wanted to scream out in glee, but you didn't want to wake your already on edge husband. The blood that coated your fingers could only mean one thing. One good thing. It was gone. You were free of it. Almost immediately, the dark air that seemed to linger over your body vanished and you let out a sigh of relief.
Scaramouche was informed shortly before breakfast that same morning. You relayed the information to a maid, who then told him, whispering the words in his ear so quietly, it sounded like she was speaking gibberish. His face, his expression, changed to one shock, then horror, then pain. You didn't even know he could make such a face, yet there he was with tears in his eyes.
“Wh-what happened?” There was that tone again. The one you were used to. The anger and distaste for you in his voice. He slammed his fist down on the desk, turning his head away from you as his voice became high and breathy, so desperate for answers, “What did I do wrong?”
You stood in his office awkwardly, even this display from a person you hated, this display of agony was hurting you as well. You thought it would be funny. Seeing the man who pulled you from your home and forced you into marriage in pain was supposed to make you happy, but you felt your own chest clenching, felt your hands tremble.
“I-i suppose…I was stressed, my lord,” you muttered, his already labored breaths hitching at those words. The few months you were carrying that thing inside your body, was when he asked for less from you. He expected you to laze around all day and relax. For your body to fall into a daze like trance of naps and delicious food. He wanted happiness for both you and his child that you carried, yet you were still the most stressed you'd ever been in your entire life, knowing that he had something inside you. Something that would continue to fester and grow, until it eventually ate you alive.
He sat bad in his office chair dejected, hurt, and empty. Scaramouche's normally sharp, glaring eyes were wide as he stared at the ceiling, body limp as he bit his lip, “Leave me,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. Had it not been for the quietness of the room, you wouldn't have heard him.
Leave him you did, closing the door as silently as possible and not lingering behind. You felt yourself finally stop tensing, telling yourself that all your woes were over, for now. The thing was gone. You were happy. For once, even if unintentionally, you'd won over your captor.
6)Scaramouche
Yandere!Platonic!Scaramouche x Child! Reader
Let me be clear, Scaramouche isn't the worst platonic yandere among the harbingers, but he will treat those yandere who mercilessly trample your mental health, nerves and self-esteem. So...
The danger of this platonic yandere-7/10
Common features:
It is difficult for Scaramouche to define his yandere side, but it seems to me that he is conscious. He knows in advance that you will leave and it's not about escape, but about your mortality. Sooner or later it will happen, because of this, he will try to avoid and ignore your existence. However, the longer he does this, the worse he keeps himself in control.
The first time you meet, he will make you cry on purpose. And, at first, he will be pleased with the result, but then, when he remembers your tear-stained face, he will be, to put it mildly, unpleasant. Honestly, it surprises him. Does he feel sorry for you? It's ridiculous... However, whatever it was, he achieved his goal. Now not only is he trying to avoid you, but you shun him like a fire.
I can imagine that the fatal moment will be when one of your loved ones swings at you and he, arriving in a rage, simply will not be able to restrain himself. He didn't want to have anything to do with you because he didn't want to get attached and see your stupid death, but he wants to watch your suffering even less. In the end, after he deals with the objectionable person, he will just grab you painfully and drag you along, periodically throwing you something like: 'Don't break out', 'Shut up', 'try to hit me/bite me again and I will do the same with you as with (Name the abuser)'.
A special feature:
What makes him truly special among other yandere and even among ordinary people is his ability to learn. And I'm not talking about everyday things now, but about his ability to change his behavior towards you. He needs a lot of time and effort, but the progress he ultimately shows is huge. His grip is no longer as painful as it was in the beginning, his angry words about your weakness and pathetic are more like a grunt or a way to tease you.
BUT don't let that fool you, he's still yandere and if you don't notice it the first time, you'll definitely notice it after he takes you to Dottore and demands to make a potion of immortality for you.
An adorable feature:
He always holds your hand, it doesn't matter where you are, what his mood is and whether you want it. He will hold your hand. In the first days, he will hold out his hand to you and after a few seconds of waiting, he will order you to take it, and if you continue to stand in a stupor, he will simply grab your hand himself. It may be silly and strange for you, but it makes a huge difference for him. To know that you are there, that he has control over the situation, is of great importance to him.
making shrimp dishes for floyd. sinigang, fried shrimp, spicy shrimp. make him watch as i eat my fellow shrimp. slice of reality.
HAKAW HI SJAKDH I LAUGHED SM I CANT WITH THIS >>>>
masterlist
floyd leech ; 🌊
He watched carefully, stricken with all sorts of emotions as he watched you serve the shrimp, tangy and delicious as you licked your lips hungrily, wishing you could eat this in front of him.
You just smiled, like the innocent little prefect you are.
You smiled.
You then smiled sinisterly..
Floyd remained silent, eyes wide open as he watched you carefully, silently, staring as you continued putting plate upon plate of dishes of various shrimp on the table.
HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY??
"K-Koebi–chan. What the fuck are you—"
"Eat my brethren."
He paused.
You'd cook your own family? This turned into some Sweeney Todd shit fr-
Floyd raised his fork. Usually he'd love eating shrimp, he's a moray eel. It's in his diet! But for his own Shrimpy-chan TO COOK SHRIMP?? WHAT WAS HE TO SAY?
Does he call Jade? Does he run away or just submit to the agonising confusion and horrific reality of you deciding to boil your shrimpy brothers for each dish?
Azul watched from the side, eyeing every moment of the scene carefully as he did his best not to snort into a hysterical fit of laughter..
for once, he knows what it feels like to be terrified of someone else. Maybe that's why he loved you for giving him such a feeling nobody else could.
Occasionally, there are instances in one’s life where regret embeds itself too deep to safely remove.
Standing here, your back against the literal and proverbial wall, you’re reacquainted with this humbling reality. A reminder of your mortality. What a delicate substance it is, easily extinguishable like a candle to some.
Violet eyes piercing enough to sever metal regard you, unamused and faintly malicious. You can’t say you didn’t bring this upon yourself. He pins your wrists above you with one hand. His grip is tight yet falls short of being painful. As much as you want to look away, he won’t permit it, so you maintain unflinching eye contact to prevent ruffling him further.
“Well?” There’s a sardonic lilt to his voice that makes you shiver. “I’m waiting.”
You part and close your lips in the same breath. Asking him for clarification won’t do you much good, he delights in watching you piece together his dubious intentions. The satisfaction he derives from it is a bit worrisome. Nonetheless, he offers you one saving grace he’d extend to no one else — patience.
What led up to this unfortunate development? Ah, yes, you saw fit to poke a slumbering beast with a stick. Scaramouche had been too preoccupied to entertain your whims. So, you being the genius that you are, offhandedly remarked that if he didn’t want to wrestle around with you, Tartaglia would certainly be up for it.
No sooner had his junior Harbinger’s name left your lips did you find yourself pinned against a wall.
He sighs, long and drawn out, as if you’re the source of all his woes.
“You’re the one who proposed this insipid game, the least you can do is see it through.”
One of the best boons from being in Scaramouche’s orbit is how many insults he adds to your vocabulary. His lexicon is vast and impressive.
Now that you understand what he’s getting at, you push back against your restraints, gauging how effective this method would be. He doesn’t cede any ground. His lithe body belies the immense strength he can wield. He restricts your writhing without overexerting himself in the slightest. Realizing a battle of physical prowess won’t end in your favor, you employ a new tactic.
The corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile at him softly.
“Kuni,” you speak the nickname he weakly claims to abhor, “Won’t you go easy on me?”
The tips of the Harbinger’s ears turn red. He scoffs, turning his head to hide how effortlessly you fluster him. “Of course not. If I always indulged you, you’d become more insufferable than you already are.”
“That’s rude.”
“The truth often is.”
While he’s preoccupied with your exchange, you twist your body, placing your best on the element of surprise. He’d need to quickly readjust the angle at which he’s holding your wrist to stop you. For half a second, you think you have him beat, but he leans in, using his torso to block your escape. A wicked grin spreads on his face at your little underhanded tactic.
You swallow thickly.
“Awe, don’t look so defeated! The effort was there,” he snickers. “Maybe next time?”
“Don’t you have things to do? It’s not like you can hold me here all day, right?”
He stares at you blankly.
“... Right?” You repeat, chuckling weakly.
“Hm, I don’t know. I’m starting to see the appeal to this game of yours. Let’s play a while longer.”
⌗ 𝘚𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘔𝘖𝘜𝘊𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 ( ♱ )
˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language Hope you enjoy!
Oh lord. He's a sadistic yandere. The type that I hate the most. He's honestly one of the worst yanderes in the game. Why would you even want him as your yandere?
Scaramouche thinks you're stupid. So, so stupid. You really believe this world is beautiful, don't you? You think it's worth it? You believe there are good things to be thankful for? You believe in gods?
That's why you're always smiling, isn't it? That's why you're not scared of him? That's why you're so happy? What a stupid, stupid human.
But he'll show you. He'll show you why you shouldn't trust blindly. Why this world is cruel. Why there's only disgusting things in this world. Why no one answers your prayers.
Oh, does it hurt? Did he broke your wrist? Are you crying? Does the little baby want her mommy? Too bad she's stuck with him, right?
How about your legs? Do they hurt badly? How does it feel? How much does it hurt? It must hurt so much, right?
Then why are you smiling through your tears? Why are you trying to reach him? Why are you caressing his face? Why are you telling him it's okay? That you're fine?
Huh? What is this? What is this feeling? Why are his eyes blurring? What's this? Why are his cheeks wet? What's that look on your face? Why does everything hurt so much?
Don't touch him! Don't fucking touch him with your filthy hands! It's your fault. It's all your fucking fault. If you hadn't smiled at him, if you hadn't tried to help him the first time, this wouldn't have happened.
But that's okay. That's okay. He just has to try harder. He just has to push you harder. To hurt you more.
What's wrong now? Why are you quiet? Shouldn't you be smiling? You said it didn't hurt, right? You said you were fine, right? Then why aren't you smiling now?
It's funny. See! You're not smiling anymore. He was right! He won! Now he's the one who can't stop laughing.
But... but if he won, why isn't he happy? Why are his eyes burning? Why are his hands shaking? Why can't he force his body to move?
The smell of blood disgusts him. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he forces your head up. Your once beautiful face is now marred with bruises and scars. Your clothes, soaking with blood, cling to your body like a second skin. He can clearly see the scars, the bruises, the broken bones that stick out of your flesh–everything. He can see everything.
He should be happy, right? Wasn't that what he wanted? He wanted to break you, right? He wanted to destroy your smile, right?
He softly unlocks the chains around your broken wrists, and your body collapses to the ground, as if you're dead.
He kneels down and wraps his arms around your fragile body. He buries his nose in your knotted hair and tries to calm himself down. But his tears just keep falling, and now you no longer wipe them away.
He presses his forehead to yours, his lips trembling. "I'm sorry," he whispers, the words foreign and bitter on his tongue. "I'm so sorry."
What has he done?
@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.
Pre-established relationship implied. You tell the Diasomnia boys that your world planned for ways to outsmart faes. You pull your trick but you're not sure who won.
Warning: Pepaw Bat's gets a little spicy so be careful.
I'm taking liberties with Sebek's part because he's a neutral for me and I don't know that much about him.
You and Malleus had talked about fae folklore more than once. He was delighted to know fae had something of a presence in your world but was wildly horrified at the misinformation. Out of everything you told him, only a handful were correct:
Don't give your name unless you trust that fae because names have power
Iron will hurt some fae but not all. Iron is more harmful to nocturnal fae than day fae.
Being rude to fae may be the end of you altogether
Partaking in fae food means you open yourself up for a wager
Yes, fae like to play tricks. Expect them and be wary.
Stepping into a fairy circle will summon the fairy who made it.
Just about everything else was wrong. That's why he and Lilia were teaching you what not to do if you came upon the various fae in Twisted Wonderland. Thus far you'd only managed to memorize what herbs kept smaller creatures at bay and how to curry the favor of the various faeries that helped out at NRC. Your current assignment from Lilia was filling out a map of different fae territories and classifying them as 'safe' for humans or 'unsafe'. Each territory had a tree they would love to craft from or loathed to be near and you were expected to know that, too.
Strange stuff but apparently it was important.
They liked to break up the bigger chunks of information with smaller, digestible things like etiquette so it felt more manageable. Malleus was currently instructing you on how to part from a fae in a formal setting as to not incur their wrath.
"Again, Child of Man," he's bowed down until eye level with you, one hand holding yours.
"Light shake, eye contact, nod, slide foot back, squeeze the hand, turn." he's parroting your motions until you turn away. He, instead, draws himself to his full height and observes as you pretend to walk away.
"Excellent," he nods. "But ensure you don't slouch while leaving. It will make some feel as if you don't hold them in high regard."
"That's so--" you roll your eyes. He simply lifts his brow as if to question your mild frustration. You puff your cheeks out and he laughs.
"We can be a bit particular." he agrees.
"To a fault." you smirk.
"Oh?" he's intrigued, eyes twinkling.
"Yeah," you smile. "In my world the fae were known for being literal with their word so you always had to keep something clever in reserve."
"Do tell," Malleus' grin goes from practiced and polite to genuine. A hint of fang shows.
"It's kind of specific though. Depends on that old joke about fae wanting to come for the first born."
"That's not really a joke," Malleus crossed his arms. You can't tell if he's offended or not. "We like the younglings. We're always looking to bring more around to the fae ways. In fact, fae make fantastic guardians because--"
He had a lot to say and you felt the beginnings of a lecture creep up. In some way you felt like you were in trouble. To save yourself, you said, "Just pretend. Then I can show you what we do."
Malleus pretended to make a deal with you. It looked a bit intimidating and official with the magic pulsing in the rickety floorboards of Ramshackle. They were groaning. Shadows danced along his face as pieces of his signature thorned briar wove around your joined hands. "In exchange for the repairs around Ramshackle, you will give your firstborn to me."
You pull him in, his green eyes searching curiously for any hint of what's to come. "Sure! How soon do you want to start working on that? Or do you want to wait a little while?"
All at once the floorboards fell quite. The hum of magic died with a rattle that broke the briar into tiny pieces. A few fell at your feet, the others shooting off into various directions.
Oh. Did he not understand? You thought it was clever! Maybe he was too sheltered to--
His laugh is kind of a snort at first but then you hear it honest and lilting. The hand holding yours slides up your arm and snakes around your waist. You're lifted until your hands find purchase on his shoulders and your legs wrap around whatever they reach. Your heart goes from your chest to your throat when his gloved hands slide down to your thighs as he walks you to your sad couch.
"Now is fine," he's careful to hold his weight above you, silky hair spilling around you and tickling your cheeks. His eyes are bright and boyish, a deadly compliment to his kissable lips.
Well, that technically backfired but if this were a real situation you'd make out just fine because he'd chosen to make out with you instead of curse you.
------ ----- ----- ----
Lilia wanted to focus on physical protection as much as written knowledge when it came to handling fae. You still couldn't wrap your head around the idea of him being a general but he had old photos, a weird mask, and a massive magearm to prove it. You'd picked up quite a few self-defense moves and practiced them regularly. He wanted them to be second nature to you. So here you are, in a designated training room within Diasomnia.
"You just want to cuddle me," you teased, in the familiar position of him being behind you with an arm around your neck. One elbow was planted in your shoulder, the other clasping it at the forearm to make a little prison for you. He gave a reprimanding squeeze, ever mindful of the pressure since you were fully human. Lilia gave a huffy laugh, trying to relax his smile into something more stern as he wove his fingers into your hair. You flinched at the tug and slapped his arm lightly.
"Focus," he couldn't deny himself the simple pleasure of whispering into your ear. If you asked him, it was to throw you off balance and distract you. "What could you do now?"
You thought about just leaning back into him, pressing against him, but you knew that wasn't what he meant. Capitalizing on this moment of closeness, the stillness, to huck him over your shoulder and into the floor crossed your mind but then you'd have to give him a back rub later.
Not that you minded that, either.
"We could make a deal," you leaned back to whisper in his ear even though it hurt your neck a little. You could tell by the way his bangs fluttered that he'd jerked in surprise. Was that a little pink on his cheeks? Before you could nip his pointed ear, Lilia leaned you forward and took his elbow off your shoulder, opting to hold you in a bearhug instead.
"Acceptable in this situation," he managed, clearing his throat when his voice cracked a little. "Although this exercise is supposed to be combat related."
"So make the terms. I can't negotiate a deal that doesn't exist." you try to break his hold, shimmying your shoulders and sliding your feet to see if you could slip away. He lifts you off the ground with an ease that doesn't seem possible with his short, lithe body. You hang there against him as he thinks.
"Your life for that of your firstborn."
A bit dark, wasn't it? Kind of rude, really, you thought. But, your train of thought continued to ramble, he did find Silver somewhere so it didn't seem too unusual that he'd want a kid. Either that, or he was messing with you because you told him that whisking away kids was something fae were known for in your world.
"You can't have a firstborn with your clothes on." you joke.
"That's not true because I found Silver with my--" Lilia drops you when he realizes what you've said. You weren't expecting him to drop you and didn't catch yourself, hissing as you land on your knees. Before you can start complaining or poke fun at him for being an old man he's locked the door. You're bowled over as he rushes over to you, pinning you on your back as he peppers kisses along your throat and collarbone.
He's several bites in and you’re halfway undressed when you think you hear a knock at the door. Lilia begrudgingly peels himself off of you, licking blood from the corner of his lips.
"Father? Are we not going to train today?"
"M'fraid not, my boy," Lilia turns his attention back to you, opening your legs to slip between them. "But you'll be getting a new sparring partner in about nine months."
His red eyes are glowing. They're absolutely beguiling.
"Do they come with therapy?” he hears Silver mumble as you look up at him through your lashes.
He pounces on you again. It was a brilliant, filthy tactic. He's not exactly mad about it. You've earned favor with one fae, at least, and he will protect you from the others.
----- ----- --- ---
Sebek is a hard worker. He's a product of his environment; he has Baur's straightforwardness, Lilia's dedicated regimens, and his mother's impressive teeth and jaw strength. Lilia thought the best way for you to learn some of the self-defense tactics was to fight someone your size.
Sort of. Sebek seemed to be the better choice since Silver was too sleepy to be a constant threat. And, in Lilia's mind, you should have an easier time fighting a half-fae versus a full fae.
You never noticed how muscular Sebek was until you were under him. He's got corded arms and you can see the muscles of his shoulders flexing under the Diasomnia shirt he chose for the exercise.
You've never seen him in casual clothes! He actually looks very nice. Not as buff as Jack but sturdy in his own way; his chest is broader than you imagined. A solid man.
More than capable of being Malleus' body guard.
You groan as he knocks the air out of you a little. He's on top of you, pressed into your back. He's got one foot braced against the floor, leaning his weight into you. Your arms are pinned at your side courtesy of the one he's snaked underneath you.
When did he flip you over? Asshole, you scrunch your nose in frustration as your cheeks begin to burn. He's an asshole that means well and won't go easy on you, though. He makes sure you learn. You try to inch out from beneath him but he angles his shoulder down and grabs his own wrist, dragging you back to him.
"You're supposed to do something in this situation!" he grumps, "You know how to break this hold!"
You do, but he's heavy and it probably wouldn't work. And he's had a literal lifetime of training versus your handful of months. You've tangled your legs together and used his half-lean to put him on his back. Your kicking like a tipped-over bug and almost free when you remember that his fae half is crocodilian and you might have triggered his death roll tendency.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Sebek's pupils change, the dark of his eye slitting and boring into you. His throat strains like he's growling but you don't hear anything. It trembles against the back of your neck and you're reminded in that moment of just how much bigger he is than you.
How he folds around you and encompasses you.
He opens his mouth, teeth glinting and sharp. "You've bested me," you admit, swallowing thickly as his teeth hover near your shoulder. "Make your deal."
You somehow turn yourself around in his unrelenting squeeze.
Sebek huffs as if he's insulted and you swear you see his teeth dull. His pupils begin to fill out. He's usually loathe to acknowledge his human side, as he'd much rather be full fae, but it serves him in this instance. "I'm not a true fae. Such a thing wouldn't work on me!"
"You have to pretend! Lilia's teaching me how to deal with the fae! You just won't hurt me as much. Maybe." you dare to flash that teasing grin at him and Sebek nearly tears into his own lip because he doesn't know what to do with that wiggly feeling you give him.
Him? Hurt you? Not on purpose. It would go against the core values his grandfather AND Lilia taught him! Any fae caught abusing their spouse would be drawn and quartered, made a public display of. Any human man who chose to do so was no man at all!
Sebek's face feels almost painfully warm. He can feel the heat spreading from his cheeks to his ears. "In an act of benevolence inspired by the great Prince Malleus, I shall spare your delicate human self in exchange for a child. Is that the cliche rubbish you desire?"
Some of his once slicked-back hair has fallen down on his forehead, between his eyes, as if it's disappointed in you too.
"You think our child would be cliche rubbish? Cliche Rubbish Zigvolt? That does NOT sound good! I'm naming the firstborn, you're just helping make it."
"Wha--but I--that's not!" Sebek doesn't know what to say and he hasn't been trained for this. He's careful not to shove you away but untangles himself like a thrown ragdoll. He rolls over sharply, totally fine with hiding his face in the floor. His green hair is in disarray and his arms are limp, stretched out to either side of him.
You laugh, climbing onto his back and raking your nails down it gently. He makes the noise. You're not sure what it is but you've heard it before. It's deep and somehow soothing. He relaxes underneath you as you continue to scratch his back, throwing in a squeeze to his muscles every now and then.
It's not until you're in what would be the small of his back (if he wasn't build so solid and thick) that he raises his head, folds his arms up, and rests his chin on his hands. "You're safe." he can't bear to turn his head and look at you right now. If he did, you'd see how...how...weak and mushy he looked. Sebek snorts through his nose, arching his back in surprise as your hands slide all the way up until you flop on his back and your arms hang off his shoulders.
"Thank you, o' kind Zigvolt!" you hug his neck. "This delicate human appreciates it!"
"And I...appreciate...you." he mumbled slowly, the words a little foreign to him. More scary than foreign, honestly. That heartwarming shyness evaporated in an instant when he pinned you and began a stern lecture about how you should NOT offer to conceive a child with ANY OTHER FAE and what YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE INSTEAD.
You weren't surprised by this. Sebek lectured Silver all the time and Lilia said he was a very informed pupil. You, too, would be informed as it didn't seem like he was letting you go anytime soon.