Art Disclaimer: Please do not take the photo and repost. Feel free to reblog though. Commissioned jfairuz for this one. It’s so, so pretty.
The Ruthless Prince Masterlist
Genshin Royal AU - Scaramouche x fem!reader
Summary:When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.
Chapter 18 - check back a little later…Maybe on Friday.
Reblogging the main masterlist because I can’t believe I wrote this much… Also, the series is nearly ending, just a heads up to everyone, I think it’ll be done in chapter 20 or 21, and then we’ll have small little spinoff chapters like meeting your parents for the first time, going on a date, just more intimate stuff in the future. Haha.
Thanks for all your support thus far! I really enjoyed writing this series.
Summary: When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.
Warnings:mentions of sex, hints of character death, kind of fast paced, longer than normal, not much of Scaramouche here, but once you finish this chapter you KNOW that the next one is gunna be delicious Scaramouche angst. Aha.
Word Count: 4.1k
Summary and a recap on the Royal AU plots are here.
Scaramouche wakes up the next morning rather peacefully. His eyes flutter open, and it’s still quite dark in the room. The two of you have slipped away from your tight hold of each other, though your head is still resting on his outstretched arm.
You’re both covered by the blankets, but he’s aware that the two of you are still completely naked under it. He feels a sigh on his lips, knowing that he has to get up, but, for a moment longer he stays by your side and inches the tiniest bit closer.
His hand lifts up to gently rest on your cheek, careful not to wake you up…not that he thinks you would wake up so easily, after such a tiring night. He gives your cheek a quick stroke with his thumb, before he realizes that he’s just making things hard for himself, so he withdraws his hand back with another sigh.
He pushes himself up in the next moment, swings his legs to the edge of the bed and gets ready to head out. While freshening up in the shower, he catches a glimpse of his ring, and he vaguely remembers it showing a fiery pink bordering on crimson glow the whole of last night…which only meant that those colours probably hinted on passion and…maybe something deeper. Something that he shouldn’t really think about right now.
He emerged from the bathroom still tired, but more awake and he walks on over to the door, battling with himself whether or not to give you a last glance. He loses the battle quite easily, and turns his head towards your form on the bed. Still peacefully sleeping. His hand on the door knob loosens. He didn’t have to wake you up. In fact it would probably be better if you slept through the whole war, rather than be awake and worry too much.
Still, he wanted to secretly see your eyes one last time before he left. It would give him some sort of comfort, but he shouldn’t ask for too much. One last look, and he turned the knob to the door, silently opening and closing it behind him. His first stop was the throne room, then the fields where the troops would be waiting on horseback and with their weapons ready.
The atmosphere is instantly heavier the moment he steps out into the hallways. He only had his light armor on at the moment, the royal armor was kept in a separate room at the back of the throne room, along with valuable artifacts for battle. Scaramouche’s armor and artifact set was named “Kuzushi”. Specially crafted for a high level electro user like him, his armor and artifacts had to withstand thunder and harsh weathers, and at the same time enhancing his use of magic.
In the same room, off to a corner of the royal backroom was a magical pedestal coated with golden paint. The stone column had intricate carvings on it, and on the top, hovered what looked to be a glowing, purple chess piece. Scaramouche gazed at it, almost longingly. It was protected by a small magical barrier, anyone who touches it will be zapped and deflected away, even Scaramouche. The only ones who had access to it was the King and Kuni, both of which would not give the gnosis away to Scaramouche until they thought he was ready. In reality, the magical barrier could probably be broken by a strong enough vision-wielder.
The electro gnosis.
Once upon a time it was the one thing that Scaramouche had sought after. The electro gnosis could only be used and held by the current king. At the moment, that wasn’t him. His father, being out on business, decided to leave the gnosis in the Kingdom, knowing that it was safer here than out there. It was an infinitely powerful device, with it, he can probably win the war easily but…he wasn’t allowed to wield it yet. That, and he heard that it held immense power, possibly stronger than a delusion…and Scaramouche was cautious around things like that, for obvious reasons.
His father had given him five conditions before he could take the throne, one was to get married, which he quickly tried to check off his list, thus meeting you. The next was to show that he was ready to lead the kingdom. The third was to have complete reign over his powers demonstrating that he was an able fighter, both physically and mentally. The fourth was just a matter of coming of age, and finally the last, was to understand the importance of companionship.
The last one…Scaramouche had yet to wrap his head around it and was confused as to how his father could possibly “test” that he understood what “companionship” was. But now was not the time to think about it. Scaramouche pried his eyes away from the electro gnosis and heads to the field. He’s met by Kuni midway, who confirms the plan with him.
“I’m to stay here with the princess by your orders, and if anything were to happen…To take her somewhere safe,” Kuni repeats and Scaramouche nods. “Are you sure about this, milord?” Kuni asks and Scaramouche closes his eyes.
“You also think it’s the best option, don’t you? Besides, if they were to somehow infiltrate the castle, someone who can fight has to be here,” Kuni doesn’t say anything, but deep inside knows that this is the best way to keep you safe. He accompanies the prince to the field, assisting him in the preparations before the knights left with him.
Scaramouche had a war horse ready for him, and he hoisted himself up as everyone straightened up and greeted him. There were lines and lines of knights and horses, all waiting for his command. He swept the entire company with his gaze, he wasn’t much for speeches, but he would never wish death on any of them.
“…I’ll take the front…Their army has delusions…” Scaramouche started. “I’ll weaken them first, and no one moves forward or attacks until I give the signal, is that clear?”
A chorus of “Yes your majesty!” echoes out in the field.
“Anyone who doesn’t follow will be dismissed from the title of knights immediately,” Scaramouche threatens, making his point that they had to wait for his signal. They HAD to, for their own safety, though the way he snarls out his threat makes it seem uncaring.
“One more thing,” he adds as his horse turns to go towards the back gate, ready to head out the kingdom walls. “Leave Tartaglia to me,”
For threatening his kingdom and his peace, Scaramouche would not let him get away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Princess?” There was a light knock on your door, you could barely make it out, what with you still weaving in and out of dreamland. You had a false sense that Scaramouche was still next to you, so you stirred, and ignored the knocks on the door.
Moments later it came again.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Princess?” Your brows furrowed, and your eyes groggily peer open. You blink a couple of times, adjusting to the brightness of the room and took a few seconds to lay there and think. You realize Scaramouche isn’t here, and that’s what makes you sit up on the bed, blanket pooling down on your lap.
You’re bare and naked, your mind starting to work a little clearer, the events of last night coming back to you bit by bit. It’s still quite clear in your mind…Scaramouche’s kisses, the way he caressed you, the way the two of you crossed over to that point of intimacy. It brings a subtle heat to your cheeks, but you finally answer the person at the door.
“Yes, I’m awake,” and it was obvious by your voice that you had just woken up. There’s a pause in knocking, before Kuni speaks from behind it.
“Good morning, princess…Might I request you to change into your light armor? It’s for safety purposes, you see,” He explains and you do remember that a special light armor was fitted just for you, and you guessed that “safety purposes” meant when things went south… If Scaramouche died, and if you had to flee.
Scaramouche…
You were suddenly conscious of the ring on your finger, picking your hand up and immediately checking the glow of it. You sigh in relief when you see the pearl shining an incredibly dark red…though you had no idea what it meant.
“I understand, Kuni. I’ll be out in a minute,” You say, loud enough for him to hear on the other side, your thoughts instantly sliding back to the prince.
How long had he been out? Daylight was already upon you, which means that the battle must have started already. You saunter towards the curtains, pulling it back to reveal the glass balcony doors.
You try to see if there’s any sign of battle out there, but the kingdom walls were much further than you thought, and it was impossible to see beyond them. You stare for a moment longer, before glancing at your ring again. Still red.
You already knew you would be constantly looking at it throughout the day.
You draw the curtains back again and proceed to get dressed into the armor specially made for you. It wasn’t really much of an armor as it was a leather corset and a black cloak. You guessed it was so that it wouldn’t slow you down much, this thing was made for fast escapes rather than a full on battle.
There’s a subtlePLINK that you suddenly hear, and for a moment you stop pulling up your brown leather boots to listen closely, freezing in place. You don’t hear it anymore, and you think nothing of it, continuing to pull the last piece of the light armor on and making sure everything was in place.
PLINK.
There it is again, and this time, you stiffen when you hear it. Purely because it was not a sound that was familiar to you. It takes a few more seconds before another PLINK follows, and you deduce that it’s coming from the balcony doors.
You walk over to it just as you did earlier, clutching at the curtain to draw it back, wondering what it was that was making that sound, just as another PLINK reaches your ears.
It’s an arrow, the sharp tip of it knocking into the glass balcony door with a PLINK and falling onto the floor. That’s where the sound was coming from, the arrow tip deflecting from the glass. On closer inspection, a large crack had started to form, and when you pick your eyes up, you’re met with a familiar smirking face, arrow drawn back, ready to pierce the glass door again.
Tartaglia chuckles from outside, watching the horror dawn on your features. “Oh, princess, I was hoping you were still in dreamland,” he mutters to himself, letting the arrow loose, it flying towards the same glass panel he had been focusing on all that time. “Well, since you’re awake, I suppose I can be a little louder now,” He pulls on his clawed gloves, walks toward the balcony door just as he watches you run away from him, towards your bedroom door, pulling it open to let a flood of knights in.
Tartaglia totally ignores the sudden surge of knights in your room, he retracts his fist back, and punches through the glass door, effectively shattering it, maneuvering his hand to turn the knob, letting himself in. The knights standing guard outside your bedroom start to attack Tartaglia while Kuni quickly drags you away.
Kuni has his hand tight around your wrist, running with you towards the throne room. “Wh-Why is he here?!” You try to ask, gasping for breath as you ran. Kuni doesn’t answer because he doesn’t know for sure, but he had an inkling and he had to make sure that he took the right steps to keep you and the kingdom safe.
He pushes the door to the throne room open, then drags you towards the back room, revealing the royal armory to you. The one that Scaramouche had just been in, hours before. And…at the back and far corner of it, was a pedestal coated with golden paint. The stone column had intricate carvings on it, and on the top, hovered what looked to be a glowing, purple chess piece…
The electro gnosis.
“I haven’t a clue how he knows about this,” Kuni fumbled with his breast pocket, “but this is the only thing of value in the castle right now…and if this gnosis falls into the wrong hands…” He retrieves what looks to be a coin, engraved with the Kingdom’s crest. He pushes the coin into a similar sized hole on the pedestal and it gives off a light glow, before Kuni safely snatches the electro gnosis into his hand. “Entire countries could fall,”
He thinks about it, and he thinks about it hard. Scaramouche would not come back in time, he must still be out there in the heat of war. So what were the chances of Kuni beating Tartaglia, a vision-wielder, in battle?
A mere 10%, he calculated. 15 if he was lucky. Him who had no vision versus Tartaglia who had honed it for years… There was no way. They miscalculated, they didn’t think Tartaglia himself would head straight to the castle, and now they were stuck with a big problem.
“Princess…” Kuni grips the electro gnosis in his hand, but releases it, opening his palm and stretching it towards you. “I’m sorry…but I’ll have to entrust this to you,”
You stare at the glowing chess piece and slowly shake your head. “What do you mean? I can’t take that! Isn’t it valuable? What do you want me to do with it?” You were near hysterics, you could tell no one anticipated Tartaglia to show up. Neither did you. For all that time you only thought that he was interested in Scaramouche’s electro vision, nothing else. You didn’t even know anything about what this chess piece was.
Kuni takes your arm and forces the gnosis into your palm, folding your fingers over it, and immediately starts leading you away. “It’s the electro gnosis, princess…It’s complicated to explain right now but it’s important that it’s kept safe…away from the wrong hands…”
The two of you have gone back to the throne room, steps hurried. “How do you know this is what Tartaglia is after?” You hiss at Kuni, trying to keep up with him.
“I don’t. But it’s possible. Now keep it somewhere safe before we step out into the hallway,” Kuni stops at the the throne room door, watching as you pat yourself down, looking for a pocket on your leather armor, when you find one, you slip the gnosis in, making sure it was snug in there. “Not to worry, princess, we’ll flee together… We’re going out to the field, taking a horse and traveling to the next kingdom over. But if something were to happen… You’ll have to keep going,” Kuni pauses before he finishes his sentence, “By yourself,”
“What do you–How can I go by myself I don’t even know– What about my parents? I can’t do this alone!” When faced with an emergency one just had to do their best to cope with the sudden changes. You were not very good at that, but neither were other people. Thrown into an unexpected and dangerous situation, everything had happened in a span of a minute or two and your mind was still struggling to keep up with the sudden change in plans.
“I’m sorry, your highness. We have no time. For now let’s focus on getting away,” Kuni explained. Yes, he could stay and fight, but he already determined that he wouldn’t be able to best Tartaglia. So the best option was for him to flee along with you, and hopefully keep you and the gnosis safe.
However, when Kuni pulls the door to the hallway open, stepping out along with you, Tartaglia was already approaching from the end of the hallway, it doesn’t look like he’s hurt at all, and you could guess that the knights were no match for him. That, and he had his own men with him, the penchant on their hips glowing a strong hydro blue colour. Delusions.
“Go!” Kuni pushes you towards the direction of the field, he runs just behind you. It’s still a long run towards your destination, but you had never pushed your legs so hard before. Your gasps for breath and pants are so loud in your ears, along with the whip of wind on your face.
Arrows suddenly fly past you, and you yelp, ducking your head a little as you continue to run.
“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” A flash of blue is all you see, there’s a big wave of water out of nowhere, suddenly crashing down the hallways, the waves riding up the walls, coming up to devour you and Kuni. You feel your body weight thrown around, weightless with the water and seconds later you’re drenched from head to toe, pushing yourself up from the wet floor, coughing.
You’re separated from Kuni, he’s closer to Tartaglia than you are, and it’s here that he knows he won’t be able to escape. He doesn’t turn around, but stands up and wields his blade confidently, “Princess, you have to go,”
Still on the ground, you watch in horror at how the Snezhnayan knights surround Kuni, Tartaglia at their front. “Oh?” Tartaglia chuckles, not making a move to attack. “This doesn’t have to be difficult, my friends, just hand me what I need and we’ll go… Well, when I say that, I mean that I’ll obliterate Scaramouche with his kingdom’s own electro gnosis…and I’ll come back to claim this castle as my own. That includes you, princess. So just sit tight, alright?”
Kuni clutches the sword tighter in his hand. “How do you know about the electro gnosis?”
Tartaglia tips his head back a little with a laugh. “Oh Kuni, you underestimate my former friendship with Scaramouche. He talked about a lot of things when he was younger, just an innocent little boy who wanted all the power in the world. He’s been obsessed with that gnosis just as much as I’ve been, of course he’s talked about it.”
Tartaglia then shrugs his shoulders with his arms out. “Pity though…that he seems to have lost interest in it during the past few months. I wonder why… Well, no matter. If he isn’t going to use it…” Then he expertly twirls his bow in his hand, another flash of blue, his bow has morphed into hydro twin blades, excitement in his eyes. “Then, I will,”
He takes a fighting stance, Kuni does too, but he shouts over at you, trying to break you out of your shock. “Princess. Go. Now. Please!” If he was going to die, he at least wanted to know that you got out safely.
You jerk up, body confused and mind muddled. You had no idea whatsoever what to do but you push yourself up, slightly heavy with the water and continue down the hallway.
Field. Horse. Run away.
You kept repeating that in your mind. You feel that if you stop chanting it, you would forget everything and veer off course, that your brain couldn’t handle so many things right now except
Field. Horse. Run away.
“…Follow her,” Tartaglia tells his few men, “I’ll deal with Kuni…” Tartaglia didn’t anticipate the fact that you had the gnosis, it was exactly as Kuni planned. At least he’d be able to buy you time.
In a blink of an eye, the fight starts with a series of clash and clangs. Kuni tries his best to deter the Snezhnayan knights from going after you, trying his best to slow them down and pushing them back. But with five of them and one of him, his focus couldn’t be split in so many ways. All four knights successfully break past Kuni in pursuit of you, and now it was just him and Tartaglia.
“Kuni…you’re not a bad fighter… I’d say better than most of my knights, even… We can still talk this out. How about it, comrade? Pass the gnosis on to me, and I’ll make you my right hand man in the new era of this kingdom.” Tartaglia stretches out his hand, he was quite serious in his offer, but Kuni only scoffed.
“…You were never very reasonable as a child, Tartaglia… All you wanted to do was to fight, to train, to be strong… You and the prince were power hungry, blind for the pursuit of strength in almost the same ways…but I daresay Scaramouche has changed…” Kuni, despite the situation, smiles. “There are things…people…more important than power. I’m glad the prince is slowly understanding that,”
Tartaglia drops his hand to his side with a condescending smile. “He’s become weak, that’s what happened,”
Kuni feels that the real battle is about to start, and he can only pray that you were well on your way, that you were fast enough to flee, or else his sacrifice would be in vain. “Not at all, on the contrary… the prince has gained a different kind of strength, a stronger will to protect the things around him,”
Kuni goes back to his fighting stance, “……I only wish I could have seen his transformation through, until the end,”
In a flash, Tartaglia and Kuni start to meet blades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rush of wind on your face just spurs you to go faster. The horse gallops at high speed, yet you don’t know where it’s going. You followed a trail into the woods, thinking that it would be the safest way out of the kingdom. At some point the horse broke through the woods and crossed a small drawbridge out of the kingdom walls, a moment later, you’re galloping through a different trail again, this time it seemed to climb up to the mountains.
You almost fall off when the horse suddenly stops, neighing angrily and becoming confused with the sudden barrage of arrows that whip by the two of you. You hold on to the reins for dear life, almost getting thrown off at the abrupt stop. You look behind you to see the four knights at a distance, still far off, but catching up at incredible speed. They must have taken horses from the stables too.
“Go, go!” You mutter at the horse, kicking its sides to get it running again. It thankfully obeys, but now you’re frighteningly aware that death is just behind you. You hold on to its mane and reins. It seems to go faster than before, as if feeling your distress and possibly recognizing that the two of you were in imminent danger. You don’t know if you imagine it but it sounds as if the other horses are getting closer, the sound of their hooves reaching your ears.
You yelp in surprise once again when the horse suddenly stops, yet again nearly throwing you off of it. “What now?!” You panic, straighten up, and see that you’ve reached the end of a cliff. The sound in your ears was not the other horses’ hooves. It was the waterfall. The river below you that sent the sounds of crashing waves buzzing in your ears. It’s quite a drop down, and the river currents are strong because of the waterfall at it’s lip.
You steer the horse away from the edge and will it to go towards the left, to scale the cliff and see if there was another way to get to the other side, but the arrows appear again, this time it nicks the horse’s leg and it neighs in pain, trotting around on itself, kicking its leg to try and get the stuck arrow dislodged.
You shudder in fear, still holding on to the reins, the Snezhnayan knights are nearing, the sound of the horse’s neighs are deafening in your ears, the waterfall is making your brain ring.
For a moment, you enter a space where everything seemed to be in slow motion.
You could hear your heart beating in your chest, hear your stuttered labored breaths.
You see the knights approaching, your horse panicking, and your head turns towards the cliff, the water droplets spraying from the falls, the crash of strong waves in the river.
Everything was so clear and slow in your mind.
The knights were climbing off of their horses, about to seize you, about to jog up and pull you off of your horse.
But you dismount your horse first, both your feet landing on the ground with a soft thump. At a last attempt to keep you safe, to keep the gnosis safe, to keep the kingdom safe; you throw yourself off the cliff, wind whipping around you as everything seemed to go back to normal speed.
You feel yourself crashing through the surface of the river, your body ached at impact, and it sent you far into its depths, tumbling around the water. The intensity of it shocks your entire body and you black out in mere seconds.
I made the chapter available through buymeacoffee. Please read this carefully first before you decide to buy the chapter
A few things about buymeacoffee, once you pay you will get a pdf version of the story and you basically have a lifetime of access to it when you download it. For that reason, the price is a little higher, still reasonable though. (Over at ko-fi, you can choose to donate as low as 50 cents BECAUSE there is a time limit of 30 days on my posts).
From what I see they accept credit card payments, and maybe many more, I haven’t really explored enough. Hopefully that helps y’all.
When you get the chapter, you don’t have to put your real name you DO have to put down your email address tho :) It’s important that you put down a PROPER email address because the chapter will be EMAILED to you.
Please note that you need to go to the extras page to get the chapter and click “get this”.
But don’t worry, the full post isn’t here anyway. As I’ve said before, Chapter 16.2 is kind of like an extra chapter. You can skip it and it won’t change much in your experience of the story. This is for those who would really like to know what exactly happened and how exactly reader and Scaramouche spent the night.
For this reason, I decided to put this chapter up on ko-fi instead.
Now before you maul me. Like I said, it’s an extra chapter. Read it or not it doesn’t change a thing, plus it’s soft smut. Also, I’m aiming to get chapter 17 out today or tomorrow, most likely tomorrow so please spare me the hate and tears hahahha and yes of course that’ll be posted on tumblr.
The main chapters of The Ruthless Prince will still be on tumblr. If you can, I do appreciate it if you leave comments or replies on this post once you’ve read 16.2
Anyway, here are some tidbits, snippets and information about it:
Word Count:5.4k(yes it’s quite a long soft smut)
Warnings: penetration, implications of masturbation, no protection and I don’t support the pull out method but we are supposed to be in olden times, so I don’t think condoms exist yet? but no, reader doesn’t get pregnant in the story, not because of this session at least haha, first time: a lot of experimenting going on, fairly slow paced and soft in my opinion, female and male receiving and giving oral, fem!reader, I think that’s it.
Snippet 1:
And it’s your turn to feel that bit of pride in you, to know that you had made him feel good. “K-Keep going…” Scaramouche’s voice stutters but you obey and start on a steady pace on his cock, your hand pumping up and down, parts of him disappearing as your hand slides and squeezes at him. “Shiiiiiit–”
Snippet 2:
“…You’re embarrassingly wet,” he gives you a sadistic grin, and you see exactly a Scaramouche that you’re familiar with. Earlier he had been a bit unsure and shy, possibly even cautious but now that he’s warmed up, he looked as if he knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn’t going to be nice to you about it.
“Shut up…” You mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re painfully aware of how wet you’ve gotten. It started from the kissing, intensified when he played with your breasts and just tripled in warmth when you started sucking him off. Something about his moans and groans just did it for you.
Snippet 3:
“R-Relax, Y/N,” It was so damn tight. He kisses your neck in an attempt to get you to ease up, feathers kisses along your jaw and again lands on your lips for a passionate kiss. It soothes your mind a little and gradually he feels himself press into the pucker of your lower lips, his tip enters with difficulty and you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders with a whimper.
Link to the FULL finished chapter on buymeacoffee:
Note: Because I’m only recently exploring buymeacoffee, I can’t guarantee that I can help you if you have any problems with payments, but they do accept credit cards and what not. Also, there is no time limit on the posts, that means once you support, you have a lifetime access to them (from what I know at least, please correct me if I’m wrong.)
The Ruthless Prince (Part 16.1) Scaramouche x fem!reader [Genshin Royal AU]
Summary: When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.
Warnings: NOT PROOFREAD forgive me, longer than usual, lots of things happen, steamy! but completely safe for work, implied sexual activities. 16.1 because I cut out the hot parts, 16.2 will be the one that details what exactly they did *eyebrow wiggle* but it doesn’t take away anything from the story if you don’t read 16.2. It’s just a little extra for those who feel like it.
Word Count: 4.7k
Summary and a recap on the Royal AU plots are here.
You sit in the silence of your shared room. Glancing at the clock on the wall, it is now past the birthday celebrations. Past your usual bed time, even.
And yet, not a wink of sleep has found you.
There’s only anxiousness and uncertainty that makes your chest tighten. It drops to your stomach, and it dissipates the slightest bit, making you think that you’ve gotten control of your emotions back, but it shoots up your stomach and wraps around your heart again. The cycle of being anxious and uncertain continues.
Scaramouche disappeared as soon as the two of you got back to the castle. He strode past the big castle doors in a hurry, and when he remembered that you were there with him he swerved around and only said one thing. “Go to sleep,” It was rather dismissive, and for a moment you wondered if going to sleep was really the only thing you could do.
It turned out that even going to sleep was difficult at the moment. For the past three hours you weren’t quite sure what you’ve been doing, sitting on the bed in your night gown, back leaning against the headboard, trying to read a book yet realizing that you’ve been reading the same line over and over again. You sighed, and dropped the book on your lap whilst closing your eyes.
Things escalated so fast. The moment that Tartaglia burst through those doors, you didn’t have any idea how much things could turn so bad..
“You’re here uninvited. Must be something serious,” Scaramouche sneered at the Snezhnayan Prince. Gone is his red scarf, replaced by a dark purple coat that seemed to radiate wickedness, the scruff of his neck is wrapped in a feathery white collar. There’s a red mask that rests on the side of his head, one that you’ve never seen before, and his armor that clung to his form made his hands look like claws instead of human hands.
He looked like a modern day devil.
“Quite,” Tartaglia replies, the grin plastered on his face rivals that of Scaramouche’s. He raises his arms and with a powerful voice addresses the whole room. “An important announcement, ladies and gentlemen,” he commands the eyes and ears of people to look at him just with a simple statement. Scaramouche’s demeanor changes, a frown replaces his sneer, he senses that this might not be the usual scuffle or fight between rivals that he initially thought it would be.
“I, Prince Tartaglia of Snezhnaya, declare war over the Kingdom of Balladeer.” He points one clawed finger towards Scaramouche, whose face was now painted blank. You, behind him, slowly internalize the words and start to process what was happening. People around you gasp, there are murmurs and mumbles and whispers all around as Tartaglia continues. “My victory will mean that I take over these lands, anyone who gets in my way will be punished.” He upturns his hand, palm facing up, “Everything of yours, your kingdom, your vision, your resources–” his darkened eyes dart towards your cowering form behind Scaramouche “your people…will submit to me,”
There’s an uproar in the venue, people start to shuffle away unsure of what to do, some of them file out of the ballroom, possibly wanting to get home and warn their family as soon as they could.
“But, I’m a fair man,” Tartaglia smiles all too pleasantly. “A battle isn’t fair if one of us is unprepared…by daylight tomorrow morning, my men and I will be outside your castle walls, ready to obliterate it,” The palm he has stretched out, crumples into a fist, and finally, he finishes his speech, dropping his hand next to him.
“…Confident as ever,” Is the first thing that Scaramouche says. He crosses his arms over his chest and tips his head up to meet Tartaglia eye to eye. Then, as if the whole world was his, as if he wasn’t the tiniest bit threatened, he smirks. Smug. Matching Tartaglia’s superiority. “You’re taking nothing from me and when I’m done with you, you’ll never even think about stepping into my territory again,”
It’s a war.
No matter how many times you repeat it in your head it just doesn’t seem real to you. People could be killed, innocent men and women and children who are just trying to live day by day. People who have lived here for all their lives have nowhere to run and tomorrow all they can do is stay inside and hope for the best. That wasn’t fair and all for what? A power-hungry prince who seemed to have some sort of grudge towards Scaramouche.
And me, what will I do? Sit pretty and wait? What about my parents?
You think to yourself, the clock ticking by and in the blink of an eye, it’s been another 20 minutes of just sitting and digesting everything. You shake your head away from your thoughts.
Scaramouche hadn’t come back from whatever preparations he was handling, it was past midnight. How was he going to lead a war without any sleep? Without thinking your legs swung over to the edge of the bed and you had the urge to go and see what he was still up to.
There must have been thousands of preparations, but when you stepped out into the hallway it was quieter than you thought it would be. Somehow the image in your mind were maids and knights running around, alerting the kingdom about the impending trouble. There was none of that. It was quiet, like any other night in the castle.
Your footsteps were light on the carpeted floor, following the path that you recognized out into the training field, your gut feeling telling you that if there was anywhere Scaramouche might be right now, it was there.
When you opened the wooden door outwards a nice night breeze hit your face, your hair momentarily ruffled with the wind. You push past and you see him in the middle of the field, sword in hand, covered in sweat, and looking as if he’s been out there for far too long. He doesn’t sense your presence, too engrossed in his own stance and concentration, like he was in a duel with the real person.
It’s a little cold out here with what little you wear, but something strikes you as you watch him. Admiration? Unsure of what it was exactly, you approach carefully, the crunch of grass under your feet grabs his attention, his eyes darting towards the intrusion. Realizing it’s just you, he straightens up, sword dropping on his side and raises an eyebrow as you approach. “I thought I told you to go to sleep,”
You stop an arms length away from him. The wind quietly whistles once again, and aside from the faint sound of crickets there isn’t much to hear out here in the field. He stays his gaze on you as you remain silent, it’s difficult to form the words in your mouth. In the first place, you didn’t know why you went out here anyway.
However, your silence seemed to have spoken to him, he looks at you for a few more seconds, before sigh-huffing and sheathing his sword on his side. “Whatever, I’m done here anyway,” Something in his voice tells you that he wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight, but whatever aura you had given off had probably changed his mind.
“Come on,” Scaramouche walks past you, and doesn’t turn to see if you were following. It was partly the look on your face, but it was partly the fact that the ring on his finger had been radiating shades of blue and grey the whole time he was out there on the field. He didn’t exactly know what those colours meant, but the dullness of it told him that it wasn’t something pleasant.
You follow him in silence, noticing that your heart grows heavy as you walk behind him. You watch his back, and you can’t help but think that all you could ever do was watch his back, even in a crisis like this.
The two of you arrive back in your room, and he quickly states he’ll use the bathroom to freshen up.
The heaviness in your heart is still there as you lay yourself on the bed, facing the bathroom door. Your eyes are heavy, but the muffled patter of water on tiles in the bathroom reminds you to stay awake. You look at the space next to you, where Scaramouche should be. The fingers tucked under your face twitches, as if it wants to reach out and feel how empty it was.
Tomorrow…Will everything be okay?
People could be killed. You think once again. And so could he. He was human, despite how brash and abrasive he was, one precise stab to the heart or an injury beyond repair would cripple him.
Was that what you were anxious of, all this time? Or was it the fact that if he loses, Tartaglia claims everything of Scaramouche’s, and the Snezhnayan prince certainly wouldn’t spare you. Your eyes snap open when you hear the bathroom door open, not realizing that you had fallen asleep for a small moment there. It usually wouldn’t wake you up, these small sounds, but the atmosphere tonight has gotten you tense.
Again he’s clad in his silk sleeping attire, towel around his neck and drying off his hair with one hand. He approaches the bed, passes you a glance, and sits on the edge of it, continuing to ruffle his hair with the towel.
The sight is so mundane. So plain. So ordinary and yet the possibility that you won’t be able to see it again tomorrow night…the feeling that came with it was so complicated. He had been far from nice to you, the past few months. Perhaps there were instances wherein he showed parts of him that was human, an emotion other than loathing, but for most of the time that you’ve lived here, he was infinitely hard to reach.
But not impossible…
One had to squint, very very hard, to see the kindness in Scaramouche. One had to know that his words were harsh but they sometimes had an undertone of concealed and secret concern. You had to know him and spend time with him to know that he didn’t know how to apologize, but that his mannerisms changed when he felt apologetic. Only when you spent as much time with him as you did, would one realize that he didn’t like being vulnerable in front of others, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t care, he just had his subtle and rather grating and unconventional ways of showing it.
“Stop worrying,” he suddenly mumbles, knowing that you were still awake. He’s moved on to drying his face, just as his routine goes. “I’ve made all the preparations I can, the knights have always been prepared for this, and your parents will be fine,”
Your eyes move up to stare at the back of his head. There it is. That rare moment of him being humane. It’s been more frequent lately, and you wonder if he knows that as well. Strangely enough, you don’t respond to his statement. It dawns on you that you’ve been awfully quiet, it was strange even for you, but none of what he says eases your mind to a comfortable enough level.
“Kuni’ll stay here with you, in the castle,” That catches your attention, and he says this as he lays down on his side of the bed, his back facing you, as per usual.
“Wouldn’t it be better if he’s out there with you?” Your head lifts up a little, there’s obvious concern laced in your voice. Kuni was a good fighter, from what you’ve heard.
“No. Along with him, there’ll be a few knights stationed here. Someone has to stay here with you, and it can’t be me,” He simply explains, and it makes a lot of sense to you, yet it doesn’t feel quite right.
You fall silent once again, looking at his back and how he seemed to be so close yet so far. He turns the lamp off on his side, usually an indication that you should turn yours off too, but you’re stuck still ruminating on your thoughts. Festering in what you would now admit was worry.
The same hand that was once resting under your cheek slides out and away, reaching over to him, towards his back, and suddenly clutching on the fabric of his sleeping shirt.
His eyes were closed, but they flash open when he feels it. His body tenses and relaxes in a span of a second. He’s blinking, staring at nothing in particular on his side of the bed, waiting for you to say something. He waited for a while, and he was confused if you were even going to say anything at all, or did you just latch on to him for some sort of…anchor? To let yourself feel that you were still in the real world, because, frankly, no matter how put together Scaramouche looked at this moment, he also had the feeling that this might just be a dream. That the war was not going to happen tomorrow and he would wake up to find out that it had just been a figment of his imagination or a sick joke. One or the other.
“…You’ve…taken care of everything else…but you haven’t said anything about yourself,” You finally started, piecing your muddled thoughts together and somehow coming up with the things that you wanted to clear up and say. “You’ll be back tomorrow when it’s over?” As casually as you could, you asked the most important question that had been weaving around in your mind ever since he told you to go to sleep.
Scaramouche could not place a word on the sudden feeling that engulfed his chest. It seemed to be a little bit of surprise and a little bit of astonishment, mixed with a pleasant bloom of warmth that made his heart pitter patter a little faster. “…I’ll be beyond the kingdom walls before daylight with the knights, and I’ll be back before nightfall, it shouldn’t be long,”
He talked about it as if it was just a meeting he had to attend. Like he didn’t have to go out there and fight for his land and his life. Like he wasn’t a prince, but a normal man out on an errand to buy fruits, telling his wife he’ll be back before dinner. But it wasn’t that at all, and you weren’t alright with that.
“…You’re sure?” You prod, and now it’s his turn to fall silent. You wait for an answer, five seconds, ten, fifteen. He doesn’t give you one and that’s how you know that he’s only trying to reassure you with false words.
There was no way Scaramouche would know exactly what would happen, and there was no way for him to know if he would really return.
Your hand loosens at the realization, releasing the now crumpled part of his shirt, hand inching back towards you as your heart tries not to drop. In a split second he’s turned around, now facing you, hand on your wrist before it could even rest peacefully beside you. Your eyes widen a fraction at the sudden movement, but you close it almost immediately when he flicks your forehead rather painfully.
“Ow!” your other free hand comes up to your forehead to rub it and you half glare at him for the sudden punishment.
“What kind of question is that? Who the fuck is going to put up with your clumsy and stubborn ass if I don’t come back?” He asks, deadpan look on his face but there seems to be a genuine hint of annoyance there.
“I was just making sure…” You mumble while still rubbing your forehead and twisting your wrist away from his hold. He lets it go and glances at the ring on your finger.
“See this?” He holds up his hand for you to see his own ring and you blink at it, before looking at yours.
“Oh, yeah, mine’s been turning different colours…What’s that about?” You ask.
“It’s connected to me. The Sangonomiya clan makes the rings with varunda lazurites, infused with magical properties of the sango pearl. Don’t ask me how it works, it’s just been tradition for the rings to be connected, so you know how the other feels,” He drops his hand and looks bored as he explains it, but you’re thoroughly intrigued.
You pick up your hand and turn it around in wonder. “Oh…So these colours are connected to your emotions… I didn’t think I’d see different ones cause you’re so uncaring,” You said it offhandedly, insulting him was like part of the normal conversation and him insulting you was equally as normal. He glares at you, about to have a comeback but you pipe up with your question first. “What does pink mean?” because the pearl on your ring was clearly glowing a pink colour.
He glances at it and scoffs, “Fuck knows. These things don’t come with instructions, you just have to go with what your gut tells you,”
Your nose and eyebrows scrunch up as you lay your hand next to you. “Well that doesn’t make it a very effective “feeling” ring then doesn’t it?”
He huffs, “It’ll at least let you know that I’m still alive. If the colour fades, then…”
And suddenly that curtain of dread and tense atmosphere descends on you again, just when you thought the mood was becoming a little better.
So that’s why he talked about it.
He wanted to tell you that there was a way for you to know what was happening, even if you were apart from each other. Wanted to tell you how to know if he had died.
“…I see…” there’s an almost uncomfortable silence when you utter the words, but he wasn’t done talking.
“…If the colour fades, you’re going to have to tell Kuni. He’ll take you on horseback to the neighbouring kingdom, we’re mostly on friendly terms and you’ll be fine there…your parents will follow,”
It hits you that he’s prepared even for the scenario in which he’s killed. Your mouth opens with slight indignation and shock. It felt unfair that he could just decide what to do with you and your life, but you couldn’t deny that it was probably for the best. There’s a shiver that runs up your spine, but you don’t tremble. You do, however, feel the tremble in your heart and you look up into his eyes to glare at him with great displeasure. “That’s not what I want to hear,”
Scaramouche wonders why it is that your eyes start to look a little glossy. He gives a lopsided grin, laying there next to you and watching the emotions race through your face, it was easier to decipher than what the ring shows him. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you glad you’re finally gunna get out of this hell hole? It’s one way to get rid of me,” He’s saying it with humor, but you find none in it and he knows it, because he’s never looked at you with such a tender gaze before.
How dare he. You think. To just assume how you would feel and what you wanted, but it was exactly how you would have felt months before and now, you’re not too sure what exactly it is that spurs you to be so upset by his words. To be so bothered that he might not come back to you alive. To know that he had still thought about you, in the event that he was killed in battle. It was unexpected and touching, but somehow, in all the wrong ways and methods.
“That’s not–” the unexpected tear that slips past your eye surprises you as well, but you look at Scaramouche and there’s no surprise in his face. It’s as if he knew this was going to happen. You gulp down the thick lump in your throat. “How can you talk about it so easily? I don’t–” another tear follows, followed by another and another until you can’t control them anymore. They’re more out of frustration, not sadness or anger.
It feels as if whatever progress you’ve made with him was slipping away. Like the parts that you’ve seen of him had been ripped from your hands and the past few months in which you saw the confusing yet weirdly fascinating sides of him had burned away.
“You’re an idiot,” he whispers and you feel his hand rest on your cheek, thumbing away the tears on one side of your face. “You can live a normal life again, away from the issues in aristocracy and free from my bullshit. Who knows, maybe thereis someone else out there who would put up with your impossible attitude,” he grins a little when he says this.
It’s ironic, the way he puts it. Because between the two of you, you believe that he has the more impossible attitude, and yet as always, he turns it around on you. As if trying to convince you that him dying was a good thing, that there was nothing but benefits.
“Stop it,” You try to assert, but the words come out softly without any strength. Your moment of weakness dissipates despite still feeling the tightness in your throat. You take your hand and hastily wipe the back of it over your eyes, but there’s still wetness messily smeared around the area and if he continues talking, more might leak out.
Scaramouche doesn’t take away the hand on your cheek, and now he’s only looking at you. Digesting the fact that you were so distraught over the thought of him perishing. Your tears speak volumes. He doesn’t understand why you’re so upset over it, yet at the same time, he understands it completely. He understands because he’d felt that anxiousness before, when you were shot in the chest by an arrow, he thinks that what you feel now is exactly what he felt then.
Perhaps it was then that he had started feeling this way and piecing the puzzle together, or perhaps it had been before that. He couldn’t be sure.
“…If you cry you’ll make it harder for me to leave in the morning,” he admits, and the words taste nearly sour in his mouth, saying something so unusual like that. But you take it in stride and answer in your own stubborn way.
“…Then maybe I should keep crying,”
He almost laughs despite the situation. Leave it up to you to have some sort of clever and annoying response.
At that moment, it all feels right to him. The way that you can counter his snarky attitude, that you were able to not gawk at him when he did something unusual. The way that you were hard-headed in almost the same ways as him and the way that you had somehow wrapped his cold heart in a warmth that he didn’t expect to feel from somebody. Specially someone who only started out as a pawn in his plans, but he had to admit, you had your charms.
“…Y/N,”
The way he says your name prepares you for his next move. He leans forward without warning, you see him approaching and your eyes instinctively close, like you’ve envisioned this moment in your mind’s eye before.
It feels like your heart shatters into a million pieces when you feel the softness of his lips descend on yours. Like the tiny little pieces of your heart scatter inside your body and spreads the tingle to every little crevice of you. It’s not a kiss that starts out certain, if anything, it’s a little unsure, a little skeptical and cautious until your hand tethers to his shoulder, pulling yourself a little closer to him.
You feel him sigh into the kiss with your motion, and now he presses further, a bit more certain, his hand draping over your middle and tugging you further into him. His legs are suddenly bumping into yours, tangling a little with each other as he hooks his foot behind your heel to drag your leg towards him. His body just suddenly ached for that contact, to be closer, at least for tonight.
By the time the two of you break away, it’s with a satisfied sigh. Neither of you are out of breath, for it was a very innocent yet complex kiss. There’s a mild stupefied look on both of your faces, like the two of you hadn’t expected it at all, but found that it wasn’t exactly disagreeable.
Your heart has definitely jumped out of your chest, and you wonder if you’re still alive. You open your mouth to say something but close it again as you fluster, unsure of what to say but very aware that this is the closest you’ve been to him, wrapped in his arms and inches away.
Scaramouche, however, had other plans. He had a strong urge to go for another one, watching your lips move and entice him. Again, he leans forward, but he whispers before he closes the gap, his eyes locking with yours and his breath fanning your face. “If you don’t like it you’d better say something now,”
You don’t utter a word.
So his mouth claims yours in an open-mouthed kiss. The intensity of it is different from before. He manages to slip his arm under you and now you’re flush against him. You can’t help the slight whimper that escapes when his lips relentlessly finds yours. You’re aware of the fact that your head starts to tilt and turn to receive his kisses more willingly, adding a sense of urgency into them as if he can’t get enough and as if you’re begging for more.
Your hands slide up his shoulders and wrap around his neck, your tongues start to meet each other for the first time and you’d always thought that the lewd sounds of intense, sloppy kissing was not your thing, but for some reason it now lights a fire in your stomach and his small sighs and subtle groaning into your mouth was just fanning the flame stronger.
It doesn’t let up, and you’re not sure you want it to, but all of a sudden he pulls away and buries his head into the crook of your neck. He breathes heavily, his arms retreating back to him and pulling yours away from his neck, forcefully placing it back next to you. You’re confused, but he speaks up before you can ask. “…We shouldn’t,”
It’ll make it more difficult for him and this wasn’t the right time, he thought. Again he feels like this wasn’t the correct order of things, and he’s trying to calm himself down, eyes shut tight against your neck, and yet your scent just permeates his nose.
“…I…don’t want to be worried,” you whisper, and it seems almost innocent at first until you continue. You don’t know what pushes you to say it or where the sudden courage comes from, perhaps it was adrenaline. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow or what might happen… so I…” You swallow the nervousness down. “I want to forget, just for tonight,”
Scaramouche’s eyes snap open, but he remains hidden in your neck. He’s vaguely aware of what you’re implying and it takes him some self-control to confirm and ask you. “…What do you mean?”
There’s a few seconds of silence before you answer, stumbling on your words a little but clearly your desire overpowers it. “I mean that…you could help me…take my mind off of things… I’m too anxious about everything right now and I just–”
Scaramouche needs no further explanation as he suddenly pushes you down on the bed and towers over you, his hands on the sides of your head. Legs trapping your body in between and under his. There’s a carnal need that flashes in his eyes and they look clouded and darker to you.
You bravely meet his gaze, you meant what you said, and perhaps part of you just wanted more of him to be ingrained in your memory, in case something dreadful happened tomorrow.
“…You really are impossible,” he mumbles and you smile a little at his observation. He leans down to devour your lips again, and the rest of the night is spent in exploration of each other’s bodies and feelings, as if tomorrow was never going to come. Like the two of you were infinite and timeless in each other’s passion.
Like the melding of your bodies into one would tattoo and anchor you to each other forever.
-Gorou likes Halloween, but he’s extremely busy and doesn’t usually have time to celebrate it.
-He makes time for you though.
-He’ll agree the moment you ask him to spend Halloween with you, no hesitation.
-He enjoys dressing up in costume, but this is his first chance to dress up in a couples costume with you.
-You two debate on dressing up as things like the wolf and little red riding hood or eggs and bacon, but you two decide on Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. He doesn’t mind who is wearing what costume, so he lets you pick.
- “Peter Pan never grows up, but I think I’d like to grow old with you.” he suddenly confesses as you two walk through the streets hand-in-hand.
-He’s always so honest with his words, so you know that he means what he said.
Kazuha
-Kazuha had celebrated Halloween before, but stopped as he got older. He’s busy with other things.
-He still understands how it can be enjoyable though, so that’s why he agrees to celebrate it with you when you ask him.
-He has one condition though and that condition is that you two do a couples costume.
-It takes you two some time to decide on one, but you eventually agree on the theme of royalty.
-Call him your Prince Charming and he’ll let out a soft chuckle before pulling you close to him, “Does that mean that you’re my happily ever after?”
-In the end it will result in a quick kiss on the lips before you two continue on with your plans.
-He doesn’t mind if you just want to dress up, go trick-or-treating, or go to a party. He finds them all enjoyable in their own way.
-He uses the costume as an excuse to flirt with you, showering you in the sweetest words, kissing the back of your hand and asking for a dance.
-Halloween was enjoyable when he was younger, but he finds himself preferring it a lot more by your side.
Scaramouche
-Scaramouche has never celebrated Halloween and he hadn’t planned on celebrating it until you came into his life.
-When you show interest in it, he starts to become interested in it.
-He doesn’t get the point of dressing up. He’s already feared, so what’s the point?
-Nonetheless, he’ll agree to dress up for you as long as it isn’t anything silly. He’ll go for something gothic.
-His costume isn’t scary, but he still manages to scare people.
-You decide to match him, also going for a gothic look. A light blush will raise to his cheeks. He expected you to do your own thing, not match him. But the reason he’s blushing is because of how stunning you look.
- “Is that your costume?” he’ll ask as he tears his gaze away.
- “It is.” you respond, only to get a nod in response.
-He’ll go wherever you take him to, but he’ll complain. He tells you that parties are complete nonsense and trick-or-treating is childish.
-He might not enjoy his time all dressed up in costume, but he doesn’t hate it either.
-You’re lucky that he loves you, or else he never would have agreed to this.
Tartaglia
-Tartaglia usually volunteers for events on Halloween.
-He enjoys seeing families together, parents taking their children trick-or-treating at the events he participates in.
-Once you’re in a relationship with him, he’ll convince you to join him.
-He buys you a costume with his own money. It’s a steampunk one to match his own.
-Despite the fact that he knew what the costume looked like, he’d still be in awe when he sees you.
- “You look incredible.” he’ll tell you with a beaming smile on his face.
-You two work together at the events, handing out candy to children or prizes when they win a game.
-He absolutely enjoys spending this time with you.
-If you didn’t originally want to go, you find that it’s not as bad as you had expected.
-Tartaglia makes sure that you’re having a nice time too. He knows that it can get boring standing around all day.
-Loves dancing with you to Halloween music, no matter how silly the dancing looks.
-People are jealous of your relationship, that’s for sure.
Thoma
-Thoma is a busy man, but he always finds the time to celebrate Halloween.
-He enjoys seeing people’s smiles as they celebrate the holiday. It’s nice to see some peace.
-He has always dressed up for Halloween and once you’re in a relationship, he’ll try to convince you to dress up with him.
-He wants to do a couples costume, he has been looking forward to the day where he could do one for a long time.
-He’d like to dress up as a pirate with you as a mermaid, but if you’d prefer it the other way around, he’s more than willing to comply.
-Plays the part. If he’s dressing up as a pirate, he’ll speak like one. “Aye, I never thought somethin’ from the sea could be so mesmerizing.” he’ll compliment you.
-If he’s dressing up as a mermaid, he’ll pretend like he got captured by you, only to fall in love. “I never expected to fall in love with a human, but I’m glad I did.” he’ll dramatically say as people walk by. He might even throw in a “glub glub” to try to get you to laugh.
-Has his arm wrapped around your waist the whole time.
-He usually goes to events instead of parties or trick-or-treating, but he’ll let you decide on what you two will do this time.
Xiao
-Xiao has never once celebrated Halloween despite all of his years of living. He knows what it is, but he doesn’t see a need to participate in it. He prefers staying on the sidelines anyways.
-When you come along, he’d be willing to get off of the sidelines and celebrate Halloween with you.
-He won’t go to parties, those are a bit too much for him to handle.
-However, he will be able to experience his first time trick-or-treating and it’ll be right by your side.
-He’d dress up as a vampire. It’s basic, but it’s the only thing that he could think of.
-He stays silent as you say “trick-or-treat” for the both of you. He’s a bit too embarrassed to say it himself, but that’s okay since you’re there with him.
-Despite how much candy he gets in the end, he’s not satisfied. Sure, candy is nice, but it’s not important to him. What’s important to him is you. So at the end of the night when you tell him that you enjoyed your time with him and you give him a kiss, he feels like he can finally relax.
-Maybe Halloween wasn’t so bad.
Zhongli
-Zhongli rarely celebrates Halloween unless it’s giving out candy. He can’t help but smile when those who visit him look so happy with their reward.
-However, when you two enter a relationship together, he’s the one who suggests celebrating Halloween together.
- “I believe that it’ll be a nice experience for the both of us.” he tells you.
-You agree and the first thing you two do is decide on what you two should do for Halloween.
-He claims that he’s much too old for trick-or-treating and doesn’t want to take candy that could go to somebody else who’d prefer it more than him.
-He’s not too into parties either, but he wants to do something different, something other than staying in.
-So you two agree to go to a small party, one with people you both know.
-Then you two decide on costumes. He definitely wants to do a couples costume with you, so he’ll suggest Frankenstein and the bride of Frankenstein. He’s perfectly comfortable in either costume, so that’s the one you two settle on.
-No matter which costume you’re wearing, he’ll tell you that you look gorgeous.
- “I’m literally dressed up as a monster, Zhongli.” you’ll tell him.
-He’ll only smile, “But you’re my monster, as I am yours.”
Pairing: Yandere!Frankenstein!Scaramouche x Reader
Pronouns for reader:They/them
TW: Yandere, stockholm syndrome, blood, death
Other warnings: Not proofread
Scaramouche was an abomination, something created by a woman desperate to bring back somebody she loved. What she got instead was him, a person that people were afraid of, that people hated. Could he even be considered a person? Yes, he was made from human parts, but he did not come into this world like the others in it. His creator sewed him together, as if he were some sort of puppet. She brought him into this world by forcing him to get struck by lightning. The first thing his body felt was excruciating pain of the lightning against his skin, his nerves crying for help as he desperately tried to free himself from his restraints. He was created in a way that he’d consider to be inhumane.
His creator made him oh so beautiful. His face was fairer than any other, his skin free of any flaws, his eyes like two gems. He was perfect. Yet, he was still tossed aside by his creator. He was perfect, but he wasn’t perfect enough.
At first he had doubted himself, wondering what was so wrong about him. Where were his flaws? There were none as far as he could tell. But as time went on, he began to learn. His creator simply didn’t love him as much as the one that she lost. He began to resent her. Who was she to create life and then toss it aside like some ragdoll? She was disgusting in his eyes.
People in town were aware that he was created by unnatural means, so they stayed clear of him. He began to resent people. They treated him coldly, not once allowing him shelter, forcing him to wander through the night. So, he decided to leave town and change how people saw him. He acted perfectly, charming people into giving him what he wanted, only to stab them in the back. They didn’t know any better, they were so gullible. It was honestly pathetic how quick they were to trust him over a few simple words.
There was one person who never got mad at him for using them was a person named (y/n). They always welcomed him back with open arms, helping him in any way they could. Whenever his personality turned sour, they’d give him a smile in understanding, allowing him to leave once more.
They were so unlike his creator. While his creator threw him out, they accepted him every time he came back. While his creator brought him into this world in the most agonizing way imaginable, they helped him live in it in peace. They might not have been nearly as intelligent as his creator, but he found himself preferring them by a landslide.
He spent a majority of his time at (y/n)’s house, he was practically living there by now. It was the one place where he felt like he could be in control while being himself, it had become a place of comfort. Their house wasn’t in the best shape on the outside, it was crooked and dark, but it was absolutely stunning on the inside; one could say that it was the opposite of Scaramouche’s personality.
His indigo eyes locked with theirs as they entered the room with a stack of books in their hands. They must have been out in town again. He personally never saw the point in such interaction unless it benefitted him, but it was something that (y/n) enjoyed.
“Scaramouche, I brought you back some books.” they told him as they walked over to him.
Ah, the name Scaramouche; he loved hearing that name, it was a reminder that he chose his own life and not his creator. He was grateful for (y/n) for suggesting he pick a name of his own and even more grateful that they always referred to him by it. He was no longer Kunikuzushi, no, that version of him was dead. He was Scaramouche now and he was living.
He enjoyed it when (y/n) brought him back books. It would be something to pass the time with when he was bored, something to boast about in the future. He could remember each word of every book he had read cover to back. He wasn’t just perfect in appearance, he was perfect in mind too.
He let out a hum in reply as he took them from their grasp and moved to the table to set them down to get a better look at them. There were a variety of genres in the new collection of books, but what caught Scaramouche’s eye were the books on science. There were books about the science of the mind and books on medical science. He enjoyed those types of books because he felt like he could actually use what he learned. Fiction wasn’t his cup of tea, he claimed that it wouldn’t help anyone get anywhere in life. He could remember when (y/n) first gave him a book with a fictional plot, he just scoffed as he set the book down, “What good are books of fiction? You don’t get anything from it. Maybe some people get a brief sense of happiness, but that’s all it will ever be. It won’t help them in life.”
Since then (y/n) had gotten him a larger variety of books, keeping the pieces of fiction for themself to enjoy. They noticed his interest in books containing mentions of science, so they aimed to get them more books involving it. Sure, he still got a few other non-fiction books, but books about science were the main thing.
“Were you out in town again?” he asked them.
“Yes, I was. I had to run a few errands and thought I’d pick you up something along the way.” they informed him.
Scaramouche didn’t bother with a thanks, only giving them a nod to show that he acknowledged their words. It was always like this, he never dared give them a compliment or thanks. But (y/n) never minded it, instead taking his silence as a sign that they picked books he was interested in. No long talks and insults meant that they did something right.
—
Scaramouche hated his hair. It was a constant reminder of why he was created, to replace something that was taken from this world. It didn’t do anything good for him, the long locks just continued to get in his way. So, he decided to cut it himself, taking a knife and chopping off a good portion of it.
When (y/n) arrived home that day, their eyes landed on Scaramouche who sat down at the dining room table, reading one of the books they had gotten them. They noticed his hair the moment they walked in, but waited until they were done putting groceries away to say anything.
“You cut your hair.” they stated.
“And what of it?” Scaramouche bluntly responded.
“It suits you.” (y/n) said before they left the room.
That was another thing about (y/n) that he appreciated. They’d never insult him. Maybe they didn’t think he was perfect, but they never treated him as anything less than perfect. They treated him like how a friend should be treated, and he enjoyed that. Maybe he wouldn’t admit to being friends with them, but both of them knew that they were.
—
“(Y/n).” Scaramouche called out to them as he entered the house. It had been a long time since he had been out and he could easily say that he did not enjoy it. The people were far too lively for his taste. What had irked him today was the stories that were being told of his creation. People talking about a mad woman who created a monster. He had been called a monster hundreds of times before in his hometown where people knew what he was, but it felt different hearing it from an outsider’s perspective. It bothered him when people joked around about how the monster that was created would be lonely, friendless, how nobody would ever love it. The last part hurt the most, because he found himself yearning for the love of a certain somebody.
“Yes, Scaramouche?” (y/n) responded to his call as they entered the room.
“What do you think of me?” he asked.
(Y/n) furrowed an eyebrow at his unusual question, but gave him an answer nonetheless, “I think you’re amazing. You’re not only handsome, but you’re smart too. When you want to be, you can be the kindest person in the world. But I think you prefer being you. Even though you’re not the nicest, you’re not the worst either. You’ve used me to get what you want multiple times, yes, but you’ve never harmed me. Eventually you stopped using me too. Maybe you don’t see me as an equal, but I think I know you well enough to not be considered worthless anymore.”
Scaramouche chuckled at their answer, draping an arm around their shoulder, “So you don’t think I’m some sort of monster?”
“Even if you were, I wouldn’t like you any less.” they informed him.
The male gulped, not expecting a response like that. He lightly shoved them away, careful not to hurt them in the process. “You’re weird.” he told them, earning a shrug from them. “I’m going to my room, don’t bother me.” he spoke before heading off, leaving them behind.
He needed time to think about their words and how they made him feel. So as he laid on the bed in his room and stared up at the ceiling, his mind drifted. He was well aware his feelings were that of love, he wouldn’t have been so concerned over what (y/n) thought of him otherwise. The opinions of the townsfolk were nothing to him, he didn’t care if they thought he was a monster. They certainly weren’t wrong about that. He was perfect in every way, but he was still a monster.
He couldn’t quite comprehend (y/n)’s words, how they’d like him even if he was a monster. Their words made his heart swell in his chest, they made him lose his breath. It was silly of him, but he wished that they would have replaced the word like with love. He wanted to hear them say that they loved him. But he knew that if they really knew what he was, their words would prove to be a lie.
—
(Y/n) watched as Scaramouche scanned page after page of the book in his hands, the two of them sitting in the living room. They barely caught a glimpse of the cover, but that glimpse was enough to know that it wasn’t the type of book Scaramouche usually read.
“Why are you staring at me?” Scaramouche asked, his voice as blunt as ever.
“Oh, I just never usually see you read books on things like love.” they stated.
Scaramouche’s grip on the book tightened at their words. They were right, he never read books like that. He always claimed that they were stupid, but here he was now, reading one on the science of love. “I wouldn’t have to resort to reading these types of books if you got me better ones.” he sneered.
They hummed at his words before shooting him a smile as he looked up at them, “I’ll get you some more books tomorrow, okay?”
He hated that smile, he hated how fond he had grown of it. He hated how he wanted to see that smile, make that smile happen. It seemed that despite how cold he acted towards (y/n), they were still willing to grace him with the smile he loved so much. Scaramouche could only wonder why they were still so kind to him even after he stopped pretending to be nice. He cleared his throat before mumbling his response, “Thanks.”
(Y/n) froze, this was the first time they had heard him say thank you to them when he wasn’t trying to get something out of them. “No problem, I’ll let you read in peace.” they said as they got up, leaving the room with a smile on their face.
Scaramouche groaned once they left, dragging a hand down his face. He really couldn’t believe himself. He must have been getting weak if he was thanking them for something as simple as getting him books. He felt pathetic enough reading books on love, but he found himself wanting to read them more than his other books. There was always the option to stop reading altogether, but that would leave him bored and that was something that he didn’t want.
He knew why he was reading books on love. Scaramouche wanted nothing more than to understand how to get one to return anothers feelings. In this case Scaramouche wanted (y/n) to return his feelings of love. Yet, he couldn’t find anything that gave a definitive answer on how to make that happen. He was on the verge of giving up on his search for answers, deciding to retire to his room for the time being.
—
Scaramouche’s indigo eyes gazed at his scars in the mirror. He who claimed to be perfect in every way had a few imperfections. The scars were from the areas where body parts were sewn together as if he were some sort of doll. They had long since healed, but they still reminded him of the past.
“Scaramouche.” (y/n) called as they opened the door to his room, only to be meant by the sight of his bare back and arms, his scars that wrapped around his shoulders.
His eyes snapped to theirs in the mirror, “Get out!”
“Sca-”
“I said get out!” he shouted as he turned to face them, the feeling of panic filling his body as he looked at them. He didn’t want them to see his scars, he didn’t want them to see him as the monster he was. He was afraid, he was terrified and his fear caused his outburst. (Y/n) was quick to leave the room, leaving the male alone once again.
His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his fear beginning to overtake him. He didn’t want (y/n) to toss him aside when they figured out what he was. They said they’d still like him if he was a monster, but he doubted that that was true. Nobody ever liked who he was, not even his creator. They probably figured it out, they probably figured it out. repeated in Scaramouche’s mind.
They did figure it out. With the rumors that had been going around and Scaramouche’s scars, along with him being deathly cold, it was hard not to put the pieces together. They didn’t know what to do. (Y/n) didn’t want to lie and treat him differently because of what he was, but fear bubbled in their heart.
—
(Y/n) had done their best to not treat Scaramouche any differently, but he noticed a few things that were off about them. He noticed how they hesitated when resting a hand on his shoulder, or how they’d avoid going anywhere near his room. He knew that they knew what he was, that he was an abomination, a monster. Yet he still loved them, all he wanted was their love. He did his best to combat their fear with affection, wrapping his arms around them and nuzzling into their neck. But it would only result in their body stiffening in his grasp.
“(Y/n).” Scaramouche spoke as he grabbed hold of their hands, a soft smile on his face.
They hesitated to face him, but did nonetheless. “Yes, Scaramouche?” they replied. Not only were they not used to Scaramouche holding their hands, they were a bit afraid of him.
His smile turned into a frown at their hesitation. It was to be expected, but it still hurt. He was glad at the same time though, he knew that if it was anybody else they’d tell others and have him hunted down. His sweet (y/n) was too kind to do anything like that. They really were too kind for their own good. “Can you get me some more books next time you go out?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.” they agreed to his request, being quick to take their leave once he let go of their hands.
He let out a sigh as he watched them leave. The books he had read didn’t have information on how to make them love him back, but maybe what he had read was right. “Be yourself.” he chuckled, maybe who he truly was was a monster and he was fine being one if it meant making (y/n) his.
—
Weeks had passed and (y/n) had seemed to calm down a little. It was that or they had gotten good at hiding their fear of the man. Scaramouche on the other hand had become more and more affectionate, to the point he was babying (y/n). He didn’t want them doing anything by themself, so he’d be right by their side the whole time. He’d gladly follow them while they made food or walked about the town, as long as he was able to keep an eye on them to make sure nobody got too close. His eyes would settle into a glare each time somebody had walked too close to (y/n) for his liking, foul words being spoken under his breath, low enough for just him to hear.
Scaramouche wrapped an arm around (y/n)’s waist once they entered a carriage. His lips brushed against their ear as he thanked them, “Thank you for coming to see my creator with me.” At this point he wasn’t trying to hide that he was created by abnormal means. They were already aware and he had no desire to pretend he saw his creator as his mother. No, his creator was nothing more than a piece of trash that he needed to dispose of.
“I’m looking forward to meeting them.” (y/n) said, although they themself didn’t even know whether or not that was the truth. Somebody who dared to create something like Scaramouche had to be mad. They were more scared of meeting Scaramouche’s creator than they ever were of him.
“You’re nervous.” Scaramouche stated, noticing how they were messing with their hands. He pulled back from them, moving to hold their hand instead, “I’ll be right by your side the entire time, there is no need to be nervous.”
They didn’t know what Scaramouche had planned, but whatever it was wasn’t helping their nerves. They knew he was up to something.
“I’ll protect you.” he cooed.
—
It was a day ride, the two of them switching carriages multiple times in order to get to the town Scaramouche was created in. It was a dark town, the skies were grey and filled with lightning, the clouds pouring rain down on the earth.
Scaramouche took (y/n) hand once they exited the carriage. He led them through alleyways until they got to their destination. It was a decent sized apartment, one owned by none other than his creator. “We’re here.” Scaramouche informed (y/n) before he knocked on the door. Minutes passed until the door opened, a woman with long braided violet hair and purple eyes greeting them.
“Kunikuzushi.” the woman said, her eyes focused on the man beside (y/n).
“It’s Scaramouche.” he said, his eyes narrowing upon hearing his original name.
The woman hummed in response, her eyes finally landing on (y/n), “And you are?”
“Their name is (y/n).” Scaramouche responded for them.
“The least you can do is let them speak.”
“You have no right to be telling me what I can and can’t do.” the man growled in annoyance.
“Why are you here?” his creator asked, quick to cut to the chase.
Scaramouche let out a hum as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand, “I’ve read that when you love somebody, you’re supposed to introduce them to your parents. You’re the closest thing I have to that.”
Of course it was because of something he read. his creator thought. He was a blank slate when he was created, afterall. He was nothing more than a hollow shell, but he was quick to pick up new things. It didn’t take him long to form a personality of his own. But he wasn’t her, he wasn’t the sister that his creator had lost. He just wasn’t good enough.
His creator let out a sigh as she moved aside, “Come on in.”
The two did as told, entering her home. It was practically spotless, as if his creator had no need for mortal possessions. Scaramouche’s eyes landed on one of the doors, his eyebrows knitting together at his annoyance. He hated the room that door led to.
(Y/n) shifted uncomfortably on their feet once they entered the apartment. They weren’t sure what to do. While they were briefly distracted by Scaramouche’s confession of love, it didn’t change the fact that they were nervous. “Uhm, what should I call you?” (y/n) asked as they turned towards Scaramouche’s creator.
“Ei.” she responded.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ei.” (y/n) said.
Scaramouche’s grip on their hand tightened. He didn’t like the two of them interacting, especially not with how kind (y/n) was. Ei didn’t deserve that kindness, nobody did, not even him.
“Aren’t you going to offer us some water or a meal?” Scaramouche questioned Ei with a smirk on his face, “Or have you forgotten your manners?”
“I have no reason to offer you food or water. You’re capable of making food yourself, are you not?” Ei retaliated.
Scaramouche let out a few curse words under his breath before he turned towards (y/n). His gaze softened upon looking at them, he always felt at peace when he saw their face. “I’ll make us something to eat, alright?” he said, earning a nod from them. He was hesitant to let (y/n)’s hand go, but he did nonetheless, leaving them and Ei in each other’s company as he went to the kitchen.
—
There was no conversation held between Ei and (y/n) as Scaramouche worked on their food. Ei did nothing more than analyze them from their seat on the couch, while (y/n) sat fiddling with their fingers due to their overwhelming nervousness. It wasn’t long until Scaramouche peaked in, letting them know the food was ready. He had even made food for Ei, despite how much he hated her.
The three of them sat down at the dining room table in silence for most of the meal. That was until everyone was almost done with their meals, that’s when Scaramouche finally spoke up.
“(Y/n).” he cooed as he gazed at them.
“Yes, Scaramouche?” they replied.
“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he said.
(Y/n) gulped. They didn’t know where this was going, but they weren’t sure they liked it, “Yes, I know.”
The sound of tableware clattering caused (y/n) to jump in their seat, their head whipping to the forward to see the source of it. Their eyes landed on Ei, her body slumped forward onto the table.
“Ei? Ei, are you okay?” (Y/n) asked as they started to get up from their seat, only to be pulled back down by Scaramouche.
He let out a sigh as he looked into their eyes. Even when they were terrified they were stunning. The man got up to move closer to (y/n), leaning down to be face-to-face with them still in their chair.
“Scaramouche, what did you do?” they questioned him, not daring to try to free themself from his grip.
He hummed in response before gently pressing his lips against their’s, something they didn’t reciprocate. He didn’t mind it, they were just scared after all. “It was just some fast acting poison. Nothing to worry about.” He continued, “I think it’s time we moved, let’s start a new life here. You see, I don’t want you to leave my side and Ei has–well, had, past tense for the dead–everything necessary to bring you back once you die of old age.”
“You’re a monster.” they hissed out.
“And you said you’d like me even if I was one. Now you just need to learn to love me.”
It was the perfect plan in his eyes. Everyone in that town knew what a monster he was, there was no way they would try to protect a stranger like (y/n) if it meant getting on Scaramouche’s bad side. He’d treat (y/n) with love and care, never daring to go too far. Afterall, he didn’t want them to hate him. It wouldn’t be such a bad life, no, Scaramouche was sure that they’d learn to enjoy it.
—
“Watch where you’re going.” Scaramouche hissed out as he pulled the person who had bumped into (y/n) by the hair before pushing them into the ground. He pulled the person’s head back only to bash it into the ground, again and again.
“I swear, I didn’t mean to!” the person yelled as they desperately attempted to escape Scaramouche’s grasp to no avail.
(Y/n) and Scaramouche had lived there for years, (y/n) slowly learning to accept Scaramouche and his ways. If they tried to put a stop to things like this, the person would only get a worse punishment, so they’ve learned to just keep quiet at times like these. Everyone was well aware of who–what–Scaramouche was. They all knew to stay away from him, but more importantly they knew to stay away from his lover. There were a few times such as now where somebody would slip up, earning Scaramouche beating them until they were on the brink of death. The townspeople were sure that if it was more than a small slip-up and they deliberately caused (y/n) any trouble, they’d be dead.
“I didn’t say you could speak.” Scaramouche said, pulling them back by the hair to reveal their bloodied face, “Apologize to them.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” the person cried out, they gaze barely focusing on (y/n) as they spoke. “Please, tell your husband to stop.” they begged.
Scaramouche paused his actions. Husband? he thought. It did sound good, he liked the idea of referring to (y/n) as his spouse. The man let out a hum as he pushed the person’s face back into the ground, putting a fair amount of pressure on their skull. His indigo eyes looked at (y/n) as he spoke, “(Y/n)? Will you marry me?”
They knew that he’d allow them to decline, but they still found a small smile on their face as they replied, “Of course I will, Scaramouche.”
Scaramouche was right, they learned to love him just as he thought they would. He swore he’d treat them right, he’d make sure nobody else ever touched them, he’d make sure no harm would come to them. They’d be together until the end of time.
