Headcanons For Sibling Scara With An Affectionate Reader Who Pinches And Kisses His Cheek Just Because

each version of yan scaramouche throughout the years is ridiculously clinging in their own strange way. 

as kabukimono, the others at tatarasuna often joke that he follows you around like a duckling. there are practically stars in his eyes whenever you’re so much as mentioned, he’s absolutely smitten. his way of getting closer to you — and staying there — had a rather innocent origin. he just so happened to notice that you dote on him even more whenever he makes a mistake or seems to be struggling with ‘simple’ human tasks. at first, he really was having difficulty with things such as getting dressed and brushing his hair, but over time, he learned to conceal his progress so you would take the time to help him. 

the unknown feeling that blossomed in his chest whenever your fingers brushed or he was close enough to smell the incense on your clothes was divine. he’d come up with any excuse to remain by your side, leaning into his harmless image a little too much, albeit subconsciously. after all, you may not have been so willing to allow a man in your bed just because he claimed his nightmares were making it difficult for him to sleep… but because you think he’s so sweet and lacking any ulterior motive, you don’t even bat an eyelash, gladly opening up the futon for him to lay beside you. he just can’t help himself. there’s nowhere he’d rather be than with you. 

as scaramouche, he has a simple and ineffective formula. keep the doors locked + be the only person you can have verbal interaction with = profit? (there is no profit to be had). you’re so sick of him but he’s there anyway. what makes matters worse is his audacity to act like he’s doing you a favor, spending a few hours of his busy day entertaining someone such as yourself. he says it that way too. word for word. with his nose in the air. you really can’t stand him. this method is what he prefers to utilize by far. sure, there might be some sour feelings on your side, yet it eliminates the risk of you leaving him altogether. he can withstand anything — your glares, the frequent cold shoulder treatment you give him — because it means you’re still there. 

for a person who comes off as greedy as he does, he’s surprisingly content with very little. the slivers of mostly negative attention you give are enough to sustain him, the same way a cactus can survive on very little water. if the balladeer had it his way, he’d always be in your vicinity, but unfortunately, he has constant work as a harbinger. which is why he leaves reminders of his existence on and around you to compensate for his absence. even if he can’t physically be with you, the lingering touches you feel and the marks you see make him impossible to forget. 

as the wanderer, he’s essentially jobless, allowing him twenty-four hours in the day to stick by your side. to make matters worse, the dendro archon herself came to you to ask for your cooperation. lesser lord kusanali has seen how taken with you he is, and after some observation, decides you’d be a good influence on the ‘reformed’ wanderer. lucky you. instead of following you around like a cute duckling, he’s more of a feral stray cat. you’ll ask him if he has anything better to do and he’ll shrug and say not really. trying to throw him off your trail is impossible as well, his ability to track you down is uncanny. he claims that he has a sixth sense for ‘sensing idiots’ every time he catches you. 

in his humble opinion, there’s just nothing more thrilling than seeing every side of you there is to see. he doesn’t want to miss a second. if he isn’t in the mood to chase after you and you try to run away, you’ll end up facing a gust strong enough to knock you off your feet. should he be in a good mood, he’ll catch you. if he isn’t, however… he’ll let you fall over and snicker over your misfortune. his antics to keep you close are mostly bearable, since he doesn’t freeload and offers a decent amount of help in your journeys, whether it be fighting off hoards of monsters or cooking meals. it becomes far more sinister if anyone tries to intrude on what he perceives to be your special relationship, though. 

Excuse me for saying so, but I did not think you would be the one take care of me in my illness Lord Scaramouche. Thank you, I am sincerely grateful.

tw: forced marriage, yandere, sickness

"You had better be," he says, not missing a beat. "Do you not think I have more important things to do?"

Despite the impatience in his voice, he stirs the rice porridge slowly, holding the filled spoon to your lips until you open obediently, taking in another bite of the physician-ordered bland mixture that had been the staple of your diet for the past few days.

You didn't expect to see him at all when you'd taken ill, when your mild headache had bloomed into an aching head, burning fever, and dizziness that you couldn't shake.

You certainly didn't expect him to shoo the attendants from the room as soon as he'd been told about your incident, having been found helplessly emptying the contents of your stomach in a hall, unable to even make it to the bath chamber.

Nor did you expect him to stroll up to the bed where you had sat, feeling your forehead for himself--hot, clammy--before ordering you to change into a night dress so that a physician could examine you.

And, of all things, you definitely didn't expect him to be at the forefront of your recovery.

Had he ever touched you this gently, with his hands pressing a cold cloth into your feverish skin?

Had he ever spoken so softly, asking you about your symptoms, which you were sometimes only able to half-answer in your continued weakness?

Yet now as you began to feel more yourself, you felt cognizant of his presence in a way that brushed aside the helplessness of illness--in a way that reminded you of your place.

And so you nod demurely to his words, acknowledging his sacrifices in the name of your health.

He stands, then, idly tucking in your blanket after leaving the tray with your porridge and your water by the bedside.

His eyes glance at the bowl, which is still warm. Now that you're sitting up, coherent, no longer mumbling in your fever-dreams, his voice has regained the dominant edge you've come to understand since you were pushed into marriage.

"I expect you to eat all of it. And do keep it down this time, will you?"

Lotus Eater. Yan Scaramouche x Reader

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.

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play wrestling — scaramouche.

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.” 

Do you think yan Scaramouche would ever actually be nice to his darling? or if there's any situation in which he'd be nice?

I think he has a very twisted view on what is "being nice" to reader. In his mind, it's nice of him to give you this lavish lifestyle (that you don't want and were forced into, in some way); it's nice of him to spend time training you on the expectations for how to behave, raising you above your station; it's nice of him not to threaten you or hit you for the smallest disobedience, something he doesn't mind doing to others, and yes if you go too far or you're in a pattern of unruliness he will physically "discipline you" as he sees fit--but the fact that you get away with any cheek towards him is enough to be deemed kindness in his eyes.

But. Nice...

So I've been tossing an idea around in my head for a while, thanks to some pregnancy reaction headcanons from @ddarker-dreams

tw: pregnancy, miscarriage

I feel like if you had a miscarriage, he would react...

Not kindly, not in the way that some others might. He won't swoop in and hold you and hold you and hold you, comforting you and stroking your back and crying with you, lamenting what has happened.

But he will force himself to be... sensitive. Aware of how what he might say or do could impact you.

Because you're already in a weak medical and emotional state, aren't you? Pregnancy has its perils, and miscarriages as well. And he can't have you getting stress-induced fainting fits or infections or anything like that. He needs to keep you strong enough to stay under his thumb.

So after bringing in a physician to check on you, he will tend to you primarily by himself. He'll wash you without a word, perhaps only to instruct you to lift your arms or move your leg.

I could see a scenario where that same day, perhaps hours later, right before bed, he sits on the end of the bed, and you're exhausted and wracked and sad and deep deep down agonizingly conflicted about everything (do you regret the loss of your child--or perhaps you don't, perhaps you're thinking about what kind of life would that child have had, under Scaramouche) and he just sort of looks at you and then

takes your hand and squeezes.

And in that squeeze there's so much said and unsaid. His own confliction regarding having a child, his own confliction about the loss of the opportunity, the feelings stirred upon seeing you so distressed from an unforeseen incident like this.

He won't say any of it, and maybe you won't even pick up on it. But the gesture itself is pointed and poignant on its own.

Then he gets up and orders a servant to bring you something, a restorative drink, with a snack he knows you like on the tray.

But don't ever say anything about his behavior to him, because it makes him uncomfortable to acknowledge.

And his unusual sensitivity would not last forever. When you're feeling better, when he deems you less fragile, his extra leniency will began to wane. After all, these things happen, don't they--to him, you should be expected to pick up your pieces and continue on.

for scara "am i bothering you, my lord? i just felt really lonely..." 🙏

notes: yandere, afab reader, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome

There’s a hand on your head before you know it. A firm presence that strokes, calming and possessive. You don’t have to look up from your position on the floor, carefully kneeling on a cushion next to his seat, to know what expression is is on his face. Possessive and pleased. A smile, though not exactly a nice one, even on his better days. 

You lean into his touch and shift on the cushion, hoping to get more comfortable. If he hasn’t kicked you out already, it means he’s in a good enough mood. You might be able to coax him into a walk in the gardens later, if you play your cards right. 

And you do so want to play your cards right with your husband. 

You don’t know when exactly everything began to shift. When you stopped feeling like your stomach was constantly empty, being twisted and pulled in every direction. When your everyday activities morphed from anxiety-inducing expectations into simple habits. 

When you stopped feeling like a captive and started feeling like a wife. 

Was it when you felt ill, and he deigned to stay by you through the worst of it? Spooning broth into your mouth and wiping your face with cool, damp rags? A soft, affectionate move that had caught you by surprise. The gestures had seemed foreign on his face, and you wondered for ages whether or not one of your ladies or perhaps a servant had suggested it to him.

Was it when he offhandedly confessed that the thought of entertaining a particular traveling noble made him want to electrify his own eyes out, and the pair of you conspired to get the man drunk--and thus, off to bed and out of his hair--as quickly as possible? It was childish, silly even. You poured cup after cup and Scaramouche said nothing as his guest became absolutely sloshed. That night you even laughed about it together, snickering, warm under the covers of your shared bed.

Little moments, bit by bit, that paved over the reality of your situation and gave it something more palatable in your mind. Something you could work with and live with, possibly even enjoy. 

And if you no longer shy away from his hands, if you call him husband without a bitter taste on your lips, if you do your best to keep him pleased and reap the results... can you be blamed? 

You know it’s wrong. Deep down. You’re not stupid. 

If you think about your situation for too long, you know what you’ll find. Underneath the layers of crafted moments, the shiny veneer that you’ve painted onto your heart. 

You’ll find a different you that wants to positively scream and fight at every turn. A different you that wants to throw up at the thought of being around Scaramouche willingly, one that would never initiate affection... much less crave it from his hands. A different you that bore his punishments, his stings and shocks, grinding your teeth to avoid giving him the satisfaction of audible pain. 

But you can’t live like that forever. You tried. You tried for as long as you could, rebelling against him, rebelling against the life he’d forced you into. You were tired of being pushed down, mentally and physically. Tired of being sad. Tired of feeling like you’d never escape.

So now? You don’t want to escape. 

Now you want him to touch you, to praise you. To shower you with gifts, though he still holds them over your head if he finds you’re being too needy. What do you need to see your family for, when he’s just gifted you an expansion to the gardens or a much-coveted visit to a local festival? 

Now you want to peel back the layers of Scaramouche, taking them off like marital robes, until you reach the Kunikuzushi underneath. Imperfect and clay-like. Unfinished. You want to see what makes him work and makes him stall and fill the gaps in him with something of yourself.

“My wife is lonely,” he murmurs, and his fingers still in your hair. “I’ll have to rectify that, won’t I?” 

You look up, finally, and your stomach doesn’t twist at the sight of his lidded eyes gazing down at you. Instead, your heart feels lighter and you reach up with your own fingers to intertwine them in his.

“But you already have.” 

Hey Belphie ~ Since you want genshin requests there's something I always wanted to request. Can I please have hcs of platonic yandere Scaramouche please ? I feel like befriending him is like befriending a popular mean girl tbh. Tysm and have a nice day~ ⭐

Aaa yes ofc!! Tysm for the request! 💕

TW: yandere behaviour

He is your biggest bully but also your biggest defender. He truly believes that he’s the only one that’s allowed to be mean to you. Anyone else who even tries won’t get the opportunity to ever again

With that being said, he is only mean to you as a defence mechanism. He’s not known for being kind, so he can’t let you or anyone else see him going soft for you otherwise everyone will know that he actually likes you

Over the course of knowing each other, his harsh and rude remarks will no longer have as much bite behind them as they used to, and soon enough, he’s just saying those things as a front and not to actually try and upset you

He once accidentally admitted to you that he considered you a friend and then refused to talk to you for a week afterwards

You can get away with teasing him about this, but only you. If anybody else even mentions it, they’re out of the picture in a flash

He actually compliments you quite frequently, but they’re always disguised in small jabs and ‘insults’ so you wouldn’t be able to tell unless you thought about the statement really hard

One time he accidentally made his words too harsh and it ended up in a massive argument where you refused to see him for weeks. During this time, he was even more irritable than usual and threatened people for even mentioning your name within ear shot of him

He eventually forced himself to apologise and then refused to leave your side for the next few days

Good luck ever trying to get into a relationship with Scara as your best friend, he essentially turns into an over protective dad and scrutinises every single person you even potentially might have an interest in

Would absolutely stalk you to dates and crash them if he didn’t like the person. And he doesn’t like anyone who you introduce to him

You normally drop the person after Scara has shown his distaste, both trusting that he’s a better judge of character than you and also that it’s not worth the headache of him constantly complaining abt the person

But if someone is insistent with you? Well Scara will will deal with them swiftly. They’re just an annoyance to both him and you so they’re clearly not needed

You’re the person everyone goes to when Scara seems more agitated than usual or they need someone to deliver news he won’t like. As much as he tries to hide it, everyone knows that you’re his favourite person by far and you’re likely to come out unscathed from these situations

Scara absolutely expects to be your top priority. He’ll get very annoyed and agitated if you don’t drop everything to spent time with him when he demands asks

He’ll never take it out on you though, instead choosing to take it out on whoever you deemed to be more important than him. If they’re no longer in the picture then he’ll be number one again, right?

You’ll learn quickly that it’s better to have your other friends annoyed at you for cancelling over, scared of you, heavily injured or even dead

Oh and don’t even think about questioning his behaviour or trying to drop him. Just because he can tolerate you the most out of everyone doesn’t mean you’re immune to his harsh treatment as well

do u have any more crumbs abt crazy, tiny, will scratch and bite me if provoked (kinky....) housewife scara? 🙏 LAWDDD ABOVE, ur writing is too good.

notes: anything for my babygurlll 💪💪

( jealousy, masochism <- reader, sadism <- kuni, slight blood, slight nsfw mentions, mentions of cheating, no one cjeats, possessive behavior )

"... what else do we need? fish, chicken... ah, we ran out of sichuan pepper just yesterday too... hm, i think our rice is running low too. hey, [y. name], run over to the rice section and get us some—" kuni turns to you, and a scowl etches on his features as puts his hands on his hips. "wipe that stupid look off your face, we're in the grocery."

you don't know how being in the grocery is relevant to anything, but you do kind of know about what stupid look he's talking about. maybe he's referring to the way you're slumped on the grocery cart handle, grinning widely with a hand cupping your cheek as you stare all moony-eyed at your pretty husband. straight from the house with a lilac apron on and clutching a hurriedly written grocery list, he was the perfect image of domesticity. your partner, glaring at you right now through those bewitching purple eyes and—

SLAP! "cut. that. out!" kuni growls under his voice, pulling your hair towards his height and looking all menacing like despite the red blush on his cheeks. "you're embarassing me in public!" you stop the slight moan coming from your mouth, as well as the comment to point out his hypocrisy. some onlookers look like they want to interfere, but one look at your heart eyes and blushing face makes them deter at the realization that you're both freaks.

"sorry, sorry~" you coo, bringing him into a hug and nuzzle your face into his neck. though his hands lay limp at his sides, he doesn't squirm and only buries a pout into your skin. "you're just super duper a thousand times cuter today than usual, y'know~ i couldn't help myself!"

"you said that yesterday and the day before that and everyday before that!" kuni grumbles softly. "now i'm starting to wonder if you actually mean it."

you gasp softly, pulling him away by the shoulders and looking into his eyes. "now how can you say that?"you ask, feigning hurt. "you should know how deeply and madly i'm in love with you, right? my darling cute kuni, who makes me lose all rationality whenever i stare at him..."

kuni rolls his eyes at your dramatic confession. "oh, please—"

"... [y. name]?"

an unsure voice cuts him off, and the two of you quickly glance at the wide-eyed man staring at the both of you with a grocery basket hanging off his shoulder. a spark of realization lights up in his eyes when he finally takes a better look at your face, and he grins happily at you. "[y. name]! it really is you! fancy running into you here!"

anyone talking to you should ready themselves for a beating from kuni, who already has a scowl deeply etched on his face, but you quickly step forward before things can escalate. he glances up at you, and he furrows his brow at the relatively normal demeanor you've put up. "kyle!" you grin with a tone that makes kuni bristle. "good to see you here. your girlfriend got you running errands?"

"h-how'd you know?"

you laugh. "just a hunch. from the way she's been ranting to her department about how she does all the chores anyway." you slap a hand to his shoulder. "help your girlfriend out too. sharing chores is quite a great way to bond. why, i'm actually here with my hus... band..."

your voice trails off when you see kuni staring daggers into kyle. you chuckle a bit nervously, afraid that he might materialize an actual dagger out of nowhere (he was in the habit of being a tad murderous). "well, currently not in the best of moods, but my lovely wife's here with me."

thankfully, kyle's not the brightest man, so he's quite unaware of all the homicidal thoughts running around kuni's brain as he offers a respectful bow. "hello, mr. [l. name]! i'm [y. name]'s junior. they've been a great help to me and sadie ever since we entered the company!" he offers out a hand for a good ol' shake, but kuni only sneers at it and hides behind your back. kyle is left dumbfounded, stretching his hand towards air.

"inazumans... don't shake hands," you smile as you make up a reason. you can feel kuni burying himself in your back, his sharp nails digging into your hips as a warning. you try to maintain your composure and suppress the blush on your face. "anyways, we've gotta run. kuni's still got cooking to do!"

"n-no worries, [y. name], i'll see you this monday. a-and..." kyle nervously fidgets with his basket and avoids eye contact with you. "you can come over for dinner after work with us anytime. me and sadie do owe you a lot... really. it's..." kyle's blush deepens and he bites his lip— a nervous habit you're familiar with. "... it's the least we can do."

when kyle dashes off, you and kuni finish the rest of the groceries in silence. that make syou a little nervous, especially since you were half-expecting (awaiting, more like it) for him to just pin you to the nearest wall as soon as kyle was out of the picture. you two load the groceries in your car in silence, all while you give kuni nervous side-glances.

finally settled in the driver's seat, and kuni stormily cross-armed beside you, you try to catch his eye. "kuni...?" you ask in a breathy nervous half-laughter. "what's wrong?"

hyou flinch at how much venom is in his voice and ignore how it's making you feel down there. "someone tried to ask you out in front of me!" his voice is shaking. "and you're gonna have the fucking audacity to ask me what's wrong?!"

"they're just my co-worker, kuni, i promise," you try to soothe him. "it's not like i was gonna take them up on their offer anyway. why would i, when i got y—"

"liar!" you wince as his voice shrills in your ear. "if you weren't planning to, then you should've just turned them down, right in front of me. no, you were planning to, weren't you?" he leans over and jabs a finger into your chest, glaring up at you with those sharp purple eyes. "you were planning on going with them after work, huh? then what?"

"i had no plans, kuni." you try to reach a hand out to stroke his hair, but he quickly grabs it and digs his nails into you. you stare into his eyes. "i promise."

kuni scowls, and you don't even know why you bother. once he gets into this possesisve, irrate mood, nothing can abate him till he lets all the stress out. "liar," he growls, and reaches over and pulls the handle to lay the driver's seat flat.

you fall back with a hard thump, and kuni wastes no time in straddling you in your seat and grabbing you by the collar. "you filthy, fucking liar. how dare you play around with me, your husband, huh? what the hell were you gonna do with them, anyway?! eat dinner, then what? let them fuck that slutty mouth of yours till you go stupid?" he sneers "i know how good you look doing that. i bet everyyy guy and his wife in your office is itching to get a taste of you."

oh. ohhhh. oh gosh, car play? your heart is beating a thousand miles per second, and your blush deepends as kuni's other hand digs into your torso painfully. oh archons. kuni mistakes the blush on your cheeks for something else, and his eyes become positively stormy.

"filthy bitch," he spits, digging even deeper until he draws blood. you whimper in arousal as you feel the familiar warm trickle from your torso. "what, you get off to fantasizing about your whole office fucking you?" you try to shake your head, telling him that it's him making you like this and no one else, but he swoops in to steal a kiss before you can say anything.

it's nothing like the sweet kisses you steal from him when you walk out the front door. it's feral, animalistic. he's biting on your lips till he draws blood and sucking on your tongue until your brain goes numb from the tingling. he lets out a haughty smirk as he pulls away, the trickle of drool connecting your lips till it breaks.

"thaat's better," he sighs, slumping back and getting a good look at your blissed out face. "just a little kiss and you're all fucked out for me just like this.

"just like how it should be."

By The Fractured Altar.

Yan Scaramouche x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency dialed up to the MAX setting, and Dottore shows up for a second so sorry about that in advance. Word count: 4.6k.

i.

The first time the Wanderer thinks he’s lost you, he learns that every moment of fear he ever experienced before paled in comparison.

He awakes with a start. Lying beneath a blanket of gleaming stars, his eyes are slow to adjust to the low lighting, the once roaring campfire calmed to a hush. Its surviving embers nearly rival the magnificence of the welkin above in their glow. An empty pail sits beside the concaving wood that once stood so proudly. From this, he assumes he fell asleep before you. You always made it a point to put out the campfire before you both turned in for the night. In the warmer seasons, the Wanderer didn’t mind; it wasn’t until autumn’s chill nipped at his cheeks that he questioned your reasoning.

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.⁠ ｡⁠*⁠♡ request: May I request Sebastian and Lilia Vanrouge as reader’s father figure, pretty please?

.⁠ ｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: i really like papa lilia, i just know that he would take very good care of the reader if he had the opportunity to adopt you lol. Well, I hope you like it anonie! Also Sebbys part here.

It’s faerie custom to steal human children for themselves, so the first moment your eyes met in the cafeteria he knew he needed to keep you close. I mean, you were a cute little thing that was brought into a world where you didn’t know anything or anyone. A cute little thing that managed to hold Lilia’s attention and focus, and he just can’t help but be in awe of your strength and courage.

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