#scaramouche royal au

[primofate]

The Ruthless Prince (Part 21 - Finale/Epilogue) 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.

Note: aaannndddd it’s done! It’s not a very long chapter for several reasons. I just wanted a clean ending and though there were not a lot of details of what happened to the gnosis, Serena and Finnian and other things, I decided to keep those for the extra chapters! Thank you so much for going on this journey with me lovelies! My first full Genshin fanfiction has finally ended and what a nice journey and process it was! 

Warnings: mentions of a honeymoon, soft-ish Scara

Word Count: 3k

Summary and a recap on the Royal AU plots are here.

Read other parts: (Ruthless Prince Masterlist)

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scaramouche’s gruff and sleepy voice reaches your ears. His arms are suddenly tight around your waist, tensing at the slight movement of you trying to take his hand off. 

“Just to the bathroom, Scara,” you tell him, still grasping the back of his hand to take it away from your waist. He huff-sighs, retracting his arms to himself to let you jump off the bed. He pushes himself up by his elbows, the blanket pooling on his lap as he props himself up into a sitting position, back leaning against the headboard of the bed. 

He doesn’t say anything as he watches the door to the bathroom click close, and he lets out a stifled yawn, not bothering to cover his mouth. From the looks of it, it was probably nearly time to wake up anyway, judging from the sunrays peeking through the curtains. 

Scaramouche sat in silence, mind still a little foggy at the sudden awakening, but he’d rather be awake than asleep whenever you had to be away from him, even if it was just to the bathroom. He’s painfully aware that it’s probably leftover trauma from your disappearing act a month ago. 

His eyes peeked open when he heard the bathroom door open up again and you came strolling out, sporting a yawn just as he did earlier. You’re about to walk over to your side of the bed, but Scaramouche beckons you over to his side instead and you tilt your head in question. 

He’s shirtless. That’s how he slept now, becoming more comfortable around you and behind closed doors. He’s nicer, occasionally still harsh and biting, still incredibly stubborn and sometimes still insufferable. But now, he didn’t seem to have a lot of problems being clingy, or was that more of his paranoia speaking?

You supposed it was because of the incident, and you couldn’t quite blame him for being paranoid of history repeating itself. Though you insisted that he should really ease up. 

As you approached his side of the bed he easily envelops you in his arms and pulls you on top of him, then he rolls to his side, bringing you along with him while you yelp in surprise at the sudden move. You’re trapped in his arms again as he closes his eyes, ready to go back to dreamland.

“We’re supposed to be waking up,” you mock glare at him, knowing that he can’t see you. You’re inches away from his peaceful face.

“...When have I ever woken up on time?” He counters and you can’t say anything back, just shaking your head to yourself. You end up resting your eyes as well. It’s getting colder in the kingdom and you thought that Scaramouche’s tendency to be more cuddly in bed came at the right time. 

If the blankets weren’t enough, his warmth surely was. 

“We’re visiting Kuni today,” he suddenly mumbles. You don’t open your eyes, but your heart sinks a little at the statement. You hadn’t visited his grave, perhaps part of you wasn’t ready yet, but the two of you had agreed on it today. 

Dragging it on just didn’t seem respectful. 

“...I know,” you relax into his hold, your mind moving into your subconsciousness as a slight sleepiness overtakes you, going back to the day you found your way home.

“The broken arm is the biggest problem,” The doctor told Scaramouche when he came back into the room after the doctor’s evaluation. “But the bruises on her back are bad too,” the doctor prescribed a tub of salve but Scaramouche wasn’t aware of the bruises at that point and he turned to you with his brows furrowed. 

“What bruises?” he asked you and you could only turn back around and slip the yukata off your shoulders to show him just how purple your back was from whatever impact it went through. Scaramouche held back from grimacing at the sight, it spanned near your shoulder, up until below what seemed to be your shoulder blade. 

The doctor was dismissed, and after a nap you’d woken up feeling better than the past few weeks. Scaramouche was in bed with you, but he was sitting on his side of the bed, just silent and accompanying you till you woke. Part of him was trying to sort out his thoughts, but while you were asleep he had already sent a letter to your parents, along with asking a maid to update his own. 

Scaramouche made sure you were awake enough to answer his questions, and you told him everything. Starting from when Tartaglia had forcibly entered the room, to him wanting the gnosis, Kuni staying behind, up until you found yourself with Serena and Finnian, finding out you lost the ring but somehow kept the gnosis safe. By the end of the story, Scaramouche had a difficult expression on his face. 

“...About Kuni,” He couldn’t meet your eyes as he told you, but your eyes had nowhere else to go to except his face, and the more he talked the wider your eyes became. 

Kuni had passed away. 

The first thing you thought of was it being your fault. If you were stronger, if you maybe stayed, maybe gave the gnosis up, even though all the solutions you could think of were bad solutions it might’ve at least left Kuni alive. You were flabbergasted for a moment, Scaramouche’s gaze still turned away from you, until you turned yours away from him too. 

There’s a moment of silence that passed between the two of you, both of you sort of letting it really sink in that these things have really transpired. People were lost and you almost lost each other. 

“...It’s–It’s my fault–” it came out involuntarily, your sentiments about Kuni’s death, but Scaramouche, almost as if he predicted you would feel that way, cut you off without a second for you to argue. 

“You know very well that it’s not,” 

“But it feels like it is,” you whisper, voice wavering at the slowly descending knowledge that Kuni was gone. He might have seemed like a small part in the grand scheme of things. But to you, he was a sort of kindness in an unknown world. A guide that was patient and understanding, wiser than anyone else in the castle. “...You blame yourself too, don’t you?” You end up asking Scaramouche.

His silence was a clear answer. 

He blamed himself for more than just Kuni’s death. The war itself. Your disappearance. Your current state. The knights that fell under his command. Losing the gnosis. Not planning in advance. In a sense it was as if the whole world was on his shoulders, and he had failed everything that he was responsible for.

His thoughts broke when he feels a weight on his shoulder. He glances sideways to see that you’ve laid your forehead on his shoulder, concealing your face from his. 

“...I’ll stop blaming myself if you stop blaming yourself,” You bargained with him, but that was so much more easier to say than to do. 

“...I can’t do that. This Kingdom is my responsibility,” He was truthful in his answer. Yes, perhaps not everything was his fault, but there were definitely things he could have done better. He wasn’t depressed nor distraught over his mistakes. He was simply disappointed, but it was fuel for him to plan and do better next time. He wasn’t going to let it cripple him. 

“...Share it with me then,” you whisper, almost inaudible. He dips his head a little closer to hear you better. 

“...Share…?” He repeats, not exactly knowing what you were trying to say. 

“...Your responsibilities, your burdens, your struggles… Share it with me. As the princess of this kingdom and as…” you pause, still having your face concealed from his gaze had probably made you a little braver. “...as your wife,”

Scaramouche feels himself freeze at the words. He held back a shiver that crawled up his whole being, an electricity that woke him up to the reality that you were here with him. Not just physically, but in his mental state, his struggles. You were here, and you were willing to experience it all with him.

There’s a squeeze at his chest that he could only describe as beautifully painful. Your sentiments of wanting to be acknowledged as his partner, and wanting to be involved in what he went through had probably cut through him easier than any blade. 

He relaxes as you continue to rest on him, a secretly tender gaze on his face when no one else is looking. “Idiot,” he whispers, but leans down to press a kiss on the top of your head.

Scaramouche remembers that clearly in his mind. 

That was probably one of the things that pushed him into planning for today.

As the two of you stand in front of Kuni’s grave, you offering a prayer as Scaramouche laid down flowers next to the stone, it’s a wonder that peace is all that he feels. He didn’t know if that was because he had already mourned enough in his own time, or if it was because you were there with him, but he felt like he could face his old advisor once again. 

There was still a deep set sadness, seeing the grave, but as you spoke to Kuni out loud, Scaramouche was more comforted than anything else. 

“I made it back, Kuni. Thanks to you, and thanks to Scaramouche, I guess,” You added as an afterthought, almost as a joke. Scaramouche can’t help but scoff next to you. It feels like talking to an old friend who had never left. 

“Scaramouche is still an asshole,” you start, to which Scaramouche was ready to scold your head off for, but you continue within seconds. “But he’s also a little nicer. To me, at least.” You grin a little, feeling the evil glare on you. “He’s trying his best to sort things out in the castle and he’s always so preoccupied about keeping the kingdom safe. It’s all he ever does.” Scaramouche could sense the eye roll on your expression, though he wasn’t looking. You continue to subtly insult Scaramouche in front of Kuni and ended with “but I’ll keep an eye on him!”

You bow your head towards the grave then turn to Scaramouche, mischief in your eyes. “Anything you wanna say, Scara?” you ask and he has glared at you all through your tattling to Kuni about him but he takes a deep breath and sighs it out just as deep. 

Scaramouche turns to Kuni, closes his eyes, as if talking to him privately. He stays like that for a moment before opening them and stating, “...I’ll be fine now, Kuni,” there’s determination in his voice and nothing but confidence. But he had to ruin it with an equally condescending comment about you. “Y/N nags me so much that there’s no way I’ll forget to do things. I even hear her in my sleep.” 

“Hey!” you protest.

“You started it!” he barked back.

You huff and cross your arms over your chest, grumbling. This was certainly not the type of behaviour one would expect in front of a grave…but since it was Kuni, you had a feeling that he understood anyway, and was perhaps happy to see everything was still as it is, maybe a little better.

“...I forgot something at the carriage, wait here a second,” Scaramouche mumbles, averting his gaze away from you and starts the short walk towards the carriage. It was just a few feet away from the two of you. If you turned, you could see it waiting by the street, but you turn your attention away from it and back to Kuni’s grave as Scaramouche walks away.

“...In all honesty, he’s doing much better, Kuni,” you whisper, not wanting to get caught saying nice things about the ruthless prince. “He’s so stubborn, so annoying and so insulting but he’s just a little concealed in his ways. I think you knew that already though, right?” You smile and stifle a laugh, “He’s nice to me, in his own weird ways,” 

“What’re you laughing about?” You whip your head around to see Scaramouche raising an eyebrow at you. He’s clutching something in his arm, and when you realize what it is you let out a gasp. 

“Th-That’s my teddy bear! Where’d you get that?!” Scaramouche had conveniently left out the part where your mother had given him your teddy bear. The bear in his arm looked new though, and it was then that you knew he had it repaired. Though you always liked the rustic look of your old bear, knowing that it was repaired and could last longer was a surprise too. 

“Somewhere,” Scaramouche replies cryptically. He hands you the bear, and you happily take it. You recognized it as your own because of the purple ribbon around the neck but, on closer inspection, there’s something different about the ribbon.

“What’s…?” You mumble absentmindedly, taking the ribbon on your palm and noticing that something was tied around one of the strings cascading down.

It was a ring tied to the ribbon, letting it hang on the teddy bear’s chest. You touched the ring, and turned it around in your fingers, inspecting it. 

It was a simple rose gold band. Very subtle and very unassuming with no jewels or gems at all. You lift your head up to look at Scaramouche with question in your eyes, but he had his gaze averted away from you, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He mumbled something that you didn’t quite catch. “...Huh?” You ask again, leaning ever so slightly closer to try and hear him better.

“I said,” he says louder, taking in a breath, “Marry me,” 

The wind is knocked out of your lungs. 

The proposal was so unexpected and awkward and yet so endearingly sincere. He’s looking straight at you now, a stern gaze on him and you look back at him with your heart caught in your throat, breath taken away, and all you can think of is how much more handsome he looked at that moment. 

You stared at him wide eyed, your mouth opening “...We’re already married, idiot,” you couldn’t help but state and he snaps his gaze towards you at that.

“I know that, stupid!” he glares, but you can see that there’s slight unease in his posture. His arms that are always crossed over his chest is not because he was feeling smug at the moment, but more of embarrassment and unsureness. 

“I meant, marry me, for real, this time,” 

And though your heart was pounding you could only really reply to his proposal with some humor. You were bursting with warmth from your chest, but you didn’t know if he was being serious. “...We ARE married for real,” 

Scaramouche lets out an exasperated sigh and draws himself closer to you, hand catching your elbow, not letting you scamper away from him. “You KNOW what I mean,” 

“Do I?” You whisper, a bit of blatant disobedience coming out from you. You feel him lean closer to you and you don’t resist. His other free hand places itself on your waist, gripping at it to move you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, tilts his head the slightest bit sideways and leans in to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. 

That’s how you know he was serious. 

The kiss lasts for a few innocent seconds, yet the message behind it is priceless. There’s a hint of want, as if this alone was not enough and though he was gentle, he’s held back. As if he wants more than just your lips and your body, like he wants every part of you, your heart, your soul, existing next to him for all eternity. 

He pulls only an inch away with a soft sigh, “A wedding with a real kiss at the end,” his hand snakes up towards your neck and tilts your head at the right angle for him to pepper kisses down your jaw. “A wedding with real vows,” he whispers, stopping at your chin then moving up to press one on your cheek. He can’t help but think how warm you are, even in weather that’s bordering on winter, his fingers and lips are heating up on your skin and he loves it. “So? Are you gunna give me an answer, or not?”

There it is. That somewhat charming assertiveness and the rare show of affection. It melts you a little inside when his touch as much as grazes you. “...A small one? With just the few people we care about, maybe?” You try to bargain though it must be strange to have a re-wedding, even with just the closest people there, but you had a hunch that Scaramouche had it all planned out already, excuses and all. He’d always been a detailed planner, if he really wanted something to happen. 

He lets out a half-huff and a half-laugh, “I don’t care, princess. As long as you’re there and I’m there,” 

It’s your turn to stifle a smile, giving yourself a silly, lovesick, lopsided grin at his statement. “...Alright then, you greedy man. I’ll marry you. Again.” You roll your eyes, but no words can describe how much of a teenager you feel at that moment. How those flutters in your stomach were in fact from this man who had once given you nothing but trouble and grief. He had a long way to go, and so did you, but the world had brought the two of you together, two different shades of the same colour that clashed yet blended together so effortlessly in the end, turning into a pleasant painting of an imperfect yet fervent relationship. 

“Then you agree to a real honeymoon too?” There’s a grin in his voice and you gasp in mock surprise. 

“Is this why you want a re-wedding? You just want the honeymoon that we missed the first time around!” You put your hand on your chest, pretending to be hurt and wounded but he slinks away from you and flicks your forehead at your antics.

“Maybe,” a smug grin splays on his face, but you know well that he’s just playing along with you. He takes your hand and pulls you along with him, back to the carriage as you continue your act of being torn and hurt. 

“You wound me,” though you squeeze his hand back, and you tuck the teddy bear under your arm as you willingly follow him. The smile on your face a complete contrast from your constant complaining and teasing.

He puts your voice at the background as he calms the storm in his heart. As per usual he had a confident and put-together look on, but he had been anxious that you wouldn’t have liked the idea of a “real” wedding. 

It wasn’t so much the wedding or festivities that he cared about…it was strangely the authenticity of it…that you deserved more than just a fake one and that he wanted a sincere one for you. 

He had it in his mind, had it at the tip of his tongue, but there were some emotions that he wasn’t brave enough to face yet, and some feelings that he wasn’t sure how to put into words, still discovering and exploring it with the thought of you, but he knew what he had envisioned:

A wedding. With sincere and real feelings of what he thought he never needed: Love and a lifetime of companionship.

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[whitestlotus]

Fragment of a Memory

Pairing: Scaramouche/Wanderer x F!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Reincarnation (Historical to Modern)

Synopsis: The Teyvat Empire has fallen and split into seven kingdoms. In the serene electro kingdom, Inazuma – resides the crown prince of the original empire, Kabukimono. At a young age, he was introduced to the newly chosen crown princess of the Kingdom of Liyue, Princess Ningjing. Over the years, the prince has grown fond of the princess and later on asked her hand in marriage. This strengthens the political ties between Inazuma and Liyue amidst a faltering peace treaty among the seven nations. Alas, it only took a matter of time until a war broke out ultimately ending the life of the beloved princess. Devastated, Kabukimono vows to protect Ningjing in another life.

In the year 2023, over a thousand years after the Teyvatian War, Celestia – formerly known as Teyvat – was a flourishing country. Y/N, a 21-year-old college student studying Psychology, cross paths with Kunikuzushi. He is not the most positive person for lack of a better word. But what happens if suddenly as each day passes, a fragment of a memory that feels familiar returns to you?

And you are not the only one.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Slow burn, Moderate Smut (Optional)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12 | Final Chapter

Epilogue

[forgottennpc]

"What happened to the author of the fanfic about prince scaramouche and a liyuen princess? I tried to find them, but I couldn't remember their Tumblr."

—A quote from Google since I can't find the fic.

[celestoria]

Royal Scandals

Summary: Who knew the beloved princess of the kingdom was so debaucherous?

Characters: duke!ayato, butler!thoma, wizard!albedo, prince!scaramouche (seperate)

Tags: cockwarming (ayato), blindfolds, restraints, oral (male receiving), dom!reader (thoma), aphrodisiacs, fingering (albedo), semi-public, degradation. asphyxiation (scaramouche)

A/n: I have been binging villainess manwha again. Everyone say thank you to Villains are Destined to Die for this super self indulgent brainrot of mine.

Do not interact if you are 16 or below (17+)

Ayato, the duke

Papers scattered over Ayato’s desk while you leaned on his chest. Your restless hips squirmed and your walls tightly clenched on the duke’s shaft. You were so full of him and you want him to make you feel like you’re in heaven.

“Your Grace, please move. This is too much to bear,” you whined. 

Ayato giggled. “Didn’t we agree that we’ll do it when all of this is done? Be patient, Your Highness.” 

You were about to lose it if at any moment if he goes on to tease you like this any longer. All you could think about is how he’d ruin your insides as you had yourself wrapped tightly around him.  

Finally, Ayato placed down his pen. His gentle hands ghosted your soft thighs before finding their way to your delicate bud. Hisfingers circled your most sensitive spot, causing whimpers to spill from your mouth.

“Now, what kind of loyal subject would I be if I can’t give Your Highness what she wants,” he whispered into your ear. 

Ayato roughly slammed himself in and out of you as if you were his human fleshlight. Dukes don’t have power over royalty but when you are with him, you’re in total submission. 

Thoma, the butler 

Thoma sat in the middle of your room with his hands bound and a blindfold covering his eyes. You slowly undid his dress shirt and loosened his tie before pecking lipstick stain marks his chest.

“Your Highness, I don’t think this is right. What if the king finds o-“ Thoma complained only to be stopped by your lips colliding. 

Sloppy kisses made your mouth numb. Thoma’s cheeks were burning up as your lips peppered his neck with your love only for you to part yourself from his flushed skin.

“No one will catch us. Have faith in me,” you reassured before you slowly descended to the carpet floor and undid Thoma’s pants. 

Thoma’s cock stood hard and beads of precum formed at the tip. Your hands slowly moved up and down and your mouth took him from the tip of his cock. Thoma jerked and whimpered. How can a butler like him receive such an intimate form of affection from a princess such as yourself?

“Your Highness, I think I’m going to cum,” his breathy whimpers cried. Seconds after his semen spilled into your mouth, leaving you with the sweet taste of him. His cock twitched and his head rolled to the back as he panted. 

“Now, now. Thoma,” you cooed. “Don’t get tired just now. We’ve only just begun.”

Albedo, the royal wizard 

Albedo pinned you down by the wooden bookshelf of notes and sketchbooks. Your flushed, delicate skin was so sensitive to his touch that it was as if it’s enough to make you cum. His teeth tugged on your lower lip as he slowly pulled away before he looked deep into your eyes with lust and desire. 

“It seems like the potion is taking effect. Wouldn’t you say the same, Your Highness?” He was foolish to fall for your little dares since now Albedo wants nothing but his cock balls deep inside of you. 

However, he didn’t dare to hurt the sweet princess who conveniently snuck her way into the isolated tower with her most revealing dress. 

Slender fingers made their way under the slit of your dress as it hooked down your undergarments. One hand skillfully circled your clit, letting out a satisfied moan escape your lips, while the other grabbed you by the wrists and placed it above your head. Trails of hickeys covered your collarbone as his kisses journeyed to your neck. Your legs trembled under his touch and your cries were getting louder.

Oh, how he loved it when you moan out his name like that. 

Soon after, Albedo split the skirt’s slit wider and pulled your thigh up. His hips sloppily grinding on you as his crotch started to form a bulge.

Either it’s you or the aphrodisiac talking, but you can’t wait for him to fuck you until you’re a complete mess.

Scaramouche, the prince of a rival kingdom

Only the winding woods acted as a border for both of your kingdoms. Reckless as it is, it’s your meet-up spot with Scaramouche, prince of your father’s loathed kingdom but your most devious secret of secrets. 

Your hands pressed on the trunk of a maple tree and your ass bent over to the man behind you. His dick pumped you roughly and deeply while he pulled you by your neck to his chest. 

“I wonder what your father would say when he finds out his darling daughter is fucking his enemy’s son, wouldn’t you agree? You’re such a slut,” he said with such disdain before he grunts from how your walls clenched around him like a snug fit. “But I love that about you.” Scaramouche’s voice brought shivers down your spine as he whispered those honey-coated words in your ear. 

The grip on your neck slowly loosened and he went down to pinch your erect nipples. Your head starts to roll back and your moans are more saturated in pleasure.

But you felt like that wasn’t enough.

“Are you planning to make me cum by hurting me or are you just too scared to admit this is the fastest you can go,” you teased, clearly agitating the prince. 

“Tch, I’ll show you.” Scaramouche pressed you down by the tree once again. His hips collided with yours at a speed so merciless. Rough hands held your hips so firmly you were sure it’s gonna leave a bruise. Your mindless whimpers brought a sense of triumph to the prince knowing that to get you to this state was all on him.

“I thought you were here complaining? Seems like you can’t take me, huh,” he said arrogantly. “Fuck, you’re so tight. I can’t wait to make you my little cum dump for the night.” 

[apneicodette]

The Compass leads back to you

Pirate!Scaramouche x (Female)Reader

One-shot

Warnings: none

You miserably sulk to the music at your engagement party, more so a ball, to a man your father had arranged for you to marry. Waiting for the dreadful day to end, you hadn't anticipated seeing a face of the past. One that you had missed dearly.

Even though the music was ever so graceful, ever so soothing. It still felt all the more suffocating.

It was a ball, ofcourse.

You sighed at the top of the balcony near the stairs gazing at the many guest waltzing about in their grand outfits. They were here for you and your fiance's engagement.

Away from the eyes of others you eyed your sooned to be husband, greeting the many alliances that he'll gain once you've married. Your father a very powerful man, the one who arrange this marriage in the first place, is a force to be reckoned with.

You'd would know, you were quite the rebellious child in your teen years. You couldn't help but smile at the memories that came flooding in.

"Are you that happy to be engaged?-" A condescending tone reached your ears. You watched as a familiar figure, one you thought you never see again, appear from the shadow. It was as if he knew you were thinking of him.

His violet hair had gotten longer, and his matching colored eyes gotten sharper. Though he had obviously matured, the boy you first met was still there. Your heart started to heat up, but you maintained your composure on the outside.

"And here I thought all this time you missed me" He stepped closer to where you stood at the edge of the railing. You could smell the sea on his dark brown attire paired with his infamous tricorne hat and the hanging bell he keeps attached to it.

"Scaramouche" you softly spoke.

He tilted his hat in response along with the smirk you remember he often did.

"In the flesh" he lifted your right gloved hand and gently placed a kiss. You allowed him to, and it had brought you to your senses.

"You shouldn't be here, matter in fact why even are you here? If my father catches a sight of you-"

"Relax, princess", your eye twitched at the name.

"I'm serious." You said showing your urgency as you stared him down.

He laughed as he gazed down the balcony as you once were mere mintues ago. You followed his eyes at a particular light blued haired man. "A Kamisato. Can't say I'm surprised at your father's choice."

"Ayato is a wealthy man, from a wealthy family. My father chose well."

Scaramouche's eyes grew dull at the words that came out of your mouth. "First name basis already, you must love him!" He bitterly said.

You tisked in annoyance at his comment. He knew. He knew you didn't love the man. And it felt like he was making fun of you for the fake act, all for your father's sake.

"What do you want. Here to steal some jewels? Money? A family heirloom?" You jabbed at him.

"I'm here for you."

What.

It took you second to understand the words that came out his mouth, that you hadn't realized you avoided his eyes. And how sincere they were.

You scoffed out in defense. "It's been a year since we've seen each other. And the last time we saw each other we almost gotten each other killed. You need to leave."

Scaramouche rolled his eyes at your dismissive response. "Last time, your father got in the way-"

"Your point is?" You cut him off.

"My point is, we had fun together. Don't you remember? We were free. Free from this cursed world, freed from people who tired to chain us down to their ideals"

You could see the temper in Scaramouche voice rising. (A skill you gained from the years of experiencing his hot headness). You forcibly dragged him, though he didn't fight back, to a more secluded and shaded area, away from prying eyes.

"Yes, because killing, stealing, committing crimes to get such freedom is justified" You sarcastically whispered.

Scaramouche laughed as he leaned in, playing with your hair. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy the ride."

He sighed at the expression of a kicked puppy you had on. "You loved the sea. The crew. Now look at you-

"-Beautiful as ever, even while chained."

You roughfully pushed him away from you. "Have you come here just to taunt me? Ridicule me?"

"I'm here to save you. Just as you've done to me all those years ago."

"So tell me-" He got closer to you, catching your arms to prevent you from pushing him away. "Tell me that you love that Kamisato skunk. Tell me that you love the life your father written out for you. Tell me that you don't want me. Tell me that you don't love me." He leaned his head ontop of yours. "And then I'll leave", he was desperate, and that's when you made a connection that things never really changed between you two.

You remember when you first met him. It was at the black market downtown, and you being a disobedient child had ran away from home. You just so happened to run into the most wanted pirate in the area, and he so willingly allowed you to hitch a ride in his ship. For a reason even he didn't know as to why.

But what you both didn't know was how much fun you'd have together. And oh, how much he brought out the bad side of you. A princess stealing?

Partners in crime you both were. You as the beautiful distraction, charming your victims. All while Scaramouche was in the shadows whisking away anything of valuable.

Though things got ugly. You had each other. And oh, how you brought out the good side in him. So much so that it terrified him. Terrified him so much that no matter how hard he wanted to run away. He couldn't bring himself to do so.

He always felt he was missing something in his life. The amount of gossip he couldn't escape from. A failure of a child prodigy. Unwanted by his mother. He started to believe what people said about him that he acted like it. A heartless fool. He created a new identity from the stories that his origins were no longer remembered by others.

A cycle of pain he found himself in, that he decided to distract by committing crimes against these high ranked individuals. For years he did this until it led him to you.

His heart.

"You know I love you." You confess, voice shakey as you were in the brink of tears. "But I can't bare to see you get harmed again because of my f-"

The second he heard the words he longed to fall out your mouth, he smashed his lips onto yours. Rough like his personality but the touch of his hand on the side of you face and waist were soft just as his love for you. You reciprocated the kiss. For how long have you waited to be near him? To touch him once again. Your were so lost in the moment you didn't noticed when he slipped out your engagement ring from your left hand.

He slowly back away, his eyes lingering on your lips clearly wanting more.

"Your a hard lady to please. You don't need to worry about your father. Where we're going is somewhere he'll never be able to reach."

If you thought your heart was racing before it doesn't compare to how much it was racing now. It was so fast you thought it'd rip out of your chest.

It was just like the first time you escaped from home. The same adrenaline rush was flowing through your veins. The thought of escaping had you wanting to laugh both out of joy and nervousness. And the fact that your now with him. Your wanted criminal.

"With that look on your face, it seems like I finally made you come to your senses. To think all it took was kiss to do so" he smugly said. "Should I do it more often?"

"Just get us out of here idiot."

"But ofcourse, princess" you yelped as he picked you up to carry you in bridal style.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

Scaramouche laughed at your spark of attitude His mind fluttered as he sees the girl he first met.

"Well sweetheart, we are going to be running. And as far as I remember you've never been a good runner" he starts walking with you in his arms back into the light.

"Yeah, yeah whatever, hey what are you-?"

Scaramouche throws a jewel you quickly see was your engagement ring down the balcony.

The sound of it reaching and cracking into the ground alerted the people as it reached the foot of Kamisato Ayato. To which he rapidly made eye contact to Scaramouche. You saw him flick his eyes back forth to you and him. He understood the whole situation, his hand gripping the handle of his sword laying on his waist.

Scaramouche smiled in a sense of victory at Kamisato's silent fury. You tightly grapsed onto Scaramouche's neck as you tsked at his petty antic. Guards charging up the stairs yelling out to halt and to surrender, both which Scaramouche will not do. Scaramouche took this as the time to start running as he secured the grip he had on you.

"You just had to get the last word didn't you."

"Can you blame me? He thought he could have you."

[royalbootlace]

modern au doodles

[zushimart]

whatever i want prince!scara x gn!knight!reader (masc leaning) royal au, pining, slight angst (jealousy, possessiveness), fluffy resolution, 4.4k words

he has never extended himself for what he wants. there is a person for every question. there is a chef to handle an exotic food craving, an advisor to schedule a luxury travel plan, a servant to send on a petty errand. each person is nameless and nothing is out of reach. there is no line between want and need. 

his knight is a fixture, stuck to the rules and him like glue when scheduled to guard his bedroom door or the hall outside of his study or the garden gate when scara chooses to take a breath of fresh air. at first, they were like a fly – ever present even when waved away – but now, scara struggles to raise his hand to dismiss them. 

there is a sensory experience he is seeking that he is not dextrous enough to catch between his fingers. 

it starts with a mistake. scara is never allowed a private moment to himself. he is followed by the same ghosts that make his opulent lifestyle possible. and so, he retires to bed early only to take to the halls without chaperone. one night, while cutting corners to reach the kitchen for an early breakfast, he stumbles upon a cozy banquet hosted by the knights for one another. he finds himself peering between the cracked mahogany doors to watch the brazen few laugh amongst each other in the crackling fire’s glow. 

they are close with one another. grins split across their faces as they throw arms around shoulders and thrust mugs of beer into hands. 

as his eyes dance from person to person, he catches sight of a familiar face. his own personal guard with a look so unfamiliar to the prince decorating their face. they’re sitting off to the side, quiet as ever, but with a fondness written in their eyes accompanied by a matching smile that scara has never had the benefit of seeing before. 

he watches as their eyes flick from person to person while gently tending to the fire. they drop the iron rod to steady a friend who stumbles too close to the flames, their capable hands wrapping around the other knight’s waist. scara feels the ghost of them around his own, but the difference is the nonchalance of their grip. his knight even squeezes their comrade close, teasing him for being so clumsy. 

they would never do such a thing to their prince, would they?

they even tell a joke – eliciting rambunctious laughter from the small crowd and managing to tilt scara’s lips into a smile. he hides it behind his hand, embarrassed. 

scara begins to imagine himself entwined in their comradery. instead of the disdain he expected to feel from lowering himself to their status, envy eats away at him like poison. frustration bubbles up his throat. he shouldn’t have to fantasize of intimacy – he has a monopoly on his knight’s time… he should be the closest one to them in the room.  

he sighs the slightest of sighs, the sound lost in the chatter. scara stares. 

and as if his knight had been aware of scara’s presence the entire time, their gaze flicks up to meet his. 

his eyes widen and he sharply pulls away, slamming his back against the wall beside the door. his heart thunders in his chest and his cheeks flush red, but he can’t fathom the dramatics of his reaction. why does he feel as though he’s been caught misbehaving? he was the prince of their country. 

but still, scara rockets down the hall from where he came, holing himself up in his chambers and praying that his knight will think the sight of scara in the crack of the doorway was just a trick of the flickering light. but as he readies himself for bed, with the promise that he would rise in just a few hours, the images of his knight shed of their stoicism repeat in his mind.

when he wakes up, the clarity of his memory has waned. their smile is distorted by the licking firelight and their laugh has dulled a decibel or two. he wants to see and to hear and to feel it again, and nothing he wants is out of reach.  

so why are they out of reach? 

><

while stable boys saddle their steeds, scara glances up from petting his horse to look at his knight. he watches, enraptured by the ease with which they weave playful banter between the servants. 

“you’re much too small to properly saddle my mare,” his knight teases a young boy whose face scrunches up at the challenge, quickly pushing his older brother out of the way to take over preparing the horse for riding. a few more quips and the group of kids are falling over themselves with laughter, piling the knight with curious questions, and trying to get a closer look at their sword and armor.

despite not even knowing their name, the stable boys are crawling over his knight like they’re an older sibling. scara watches as they rally the boys and carefully unsheathe their sword, telling them the history following the blade. the bright-eyed kids crowd around the knight, begging to hold the handle or even touch the metal. scara holds back a smile as his knight waves them away, shaking their head. 

“his majesty bestows the sword only to the most terrifying,” scara interjects with an attempt at sarcasm, “so don’t get too close…” his tone is too serious despite his intention to participate in the conversation, not end it. the boys disperse in fear. 

his knight consoles him. “ah, i’m sorry, your highness. they didn’t understand your humor.” and although the words are kind, they’re distant. 

he rolls his eyes, mounting his steed without another word. how, scara wonders, is one supposed to grow close with another? he grits his teeth. 

><

“come here,” he orders, and they stride close. the two of them are in the library in the west wing. far from the bustle of servants or wandering nobles, they are wrapped in quiet. hidden between bookshelves as tall as buildings, each fortified with volumes upon volumes of books slotted together like bricks. the silence is interrupted only by scara’s page turning and accompanying hums. 

his knight stands beside him, patiently awaiting orders. scara leans against a desk, tilting his head and letting his dress shirt slip down, hanging dangerously off his shoulder. “could you help me?” he asks, voice pitching lower.  

“yes, your highness, what do you need?” his knight asks, impassive as stone. in fact, their eyes don’t even lift to meet his. 

scara tries not to let the frustration show, but his self control is near nonexistent. “i am going to get the oldest publication of this philosophy anthology,” he says through gritted teeth, pointing to the very top of the bookshelf. the ceiling is seemingly miles away, and his knight opens their mouth to express concern, but scara is quicker. “it’s fine, just watch me,” he says,

his knight finds the wheeled ladder attached to the bookcase and pulls it to scara, taking a step back to watch the prince mount and climb. when he’s a third of the way up the ladder, he looks down to his knight. “oh no,” scara says, voice devoid of any emotion as he manually loosens his grip on the ladder, “i’m losing my balance.” 

“sir, are you alright?” his knight calls up to him. 

“i’m falling,” he calls down before letting go. he plummets directly into their waiting arms and stares up at them expectantly as if waiting for something. he’s swindled their touch – their strong hold carefully cradling him – yet he can’t swindle familiarity. he can’t manufacture ease. instead of teasing him… instead of even scolding him… they simply righten him on his feet and ask: 

“would you like to try again, sire? or shall i?” 

he frowns. “it’s the green book with golden binding,” he says, taking a seat at the desk. he lays his head down on his arms, staring up at his knight climbing the ladder up the bookcase and plotting how best the fill the gap between them.

><

the study is quiet. scara leans over the chaise for guidance when he needs help with a special stitch of his embroidery. his aunt nahida carefully instructs him where to prick his needle next. “is there something on your mind?” she asks when she catches his brows furrowed.

“i’m frustrated,” he admits almost immediately.

“with embroidering?” her voice tilts with curiosity. 

“no…” scara says, looking up from his work. he looks up, then down, and then to nahida. “how did you do it?” scara asks. “how did… how did we become close? how did you manufacture comfort? why is it easy to speak with you?” 

nahida blinks and puts a finger to her lips. she hums, thinking hard, intrigued by his question. “i’m not sure,” she admits. “shouldn’t you be the one to answer those questions?” she asks. “why?” 

scara’s face turns back to his stitching, but it does little to hide the way his cheeks flush. he doesn’t answer. 

“is there someone you want to be close to?” nahida asks. 

“yes,” scara admits quietly. 

“do i know them?” she prompts gently. 

“yes,” he answers again, thread and needle working vigorously as his anxiousness builds. 

“can i ask who they are?” 

“no,” scara almost squeaks. “isn’t it enough to know that there is someone?” 

“oh, well, okay,” nahida says, putting a finger to her lips. “why do you feel comfortable talking to me?” 

scara looks up, red in the face. he bites his lip, thinking hard. “you’re persistent,” he says carefully… just halfway to an insult. “you listen to me…” he continues. “remember things i tell you… ask me questions… and i feel like i want to tell you more and more.” 

he looks to nahida to see her smiling giddily behind her hand and his face sours. “this is just an ego trip for you.” 

“no!” she bursts, “i’m just happy… to know how you feel.” 

his eyes widen a little bit and a puzzle piece snaps into place. he sighs before letting a fond smile turn his lips as he looks away. “shut up,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t mean it. she giggles, sitting closer to him on the chaise and fixing his hair with affection reserved for family.

><

it’s morning. his eyes still haven’t adjusted to the bright rays shining through the windows of the dining hall. he squints at his plate, pushing the fresh fruit around with his fork and growing more irate by the second as his advisor flips through the details of his schedule, reminding him of his lack of autonomy. 

“and finally, a gift in honor for your stellar performance in our diplomacy lessons,” he drones on, “we do not meet for our evening class tonight.” 

“yeah, yeah,” scara waves him away before the words register. “wait, we don’t?” 

“no, i’m giving you the hours to rest… or to get up to whatever mischief. please don’t implicate me in your plans. i’d rather not be scolded by her majesty for my decision to give you this freedom.” 

“she doesn’t care,” scara slights, rolling his eyes. his advisor is jaded, excusing himself without a word for the prince’s disrespect of the throne. scara leaves his half-eaten plate behind and makes his way to the door, his eyes flicking up to the knight waiting at the threshold for him. to think there was a time he never glanced, looked. stared… – he catches himself, turning his face quickly to hide the heat painting him pink all over again. 

and his conversation with nahida lingers in the back of his mind, growing closer as he approaches until it’s front and center. words he didn’t even know he wanted to say inch up his throat and before he could even process them himself, his mouth opens and they come falling out. “during my free hour you will practice piano with me,” he blurts.

his knight tilts their head curiously before giving him an uncertain nod. 

ah, it came out as an order… not an invitation. scara shuts his eyes tight and shakes his head. he tries again. “i-i mean… would you like to practice piano with me tonight?” the words are creaky like rusty hinges as he uses manners gone unseen since childhood. he acts in his etiquette classes, of course. this is real. 

“i accompany you everywhere, sire,” they say as if the prince has forgotten. 

scara’s mouth clamps shut and he looks away, defeated. “i-i know that,” he says, biting his lip. “whatever,” he snaps, storming off into the hall, his knight trailing behind like a puppy. 

><

when the final lesson of his day comes to a close, his wrists are sore from the articles he’d written and his eyes are strained from deciphering various diplomats’ awful lettering. piano seems like a terrible idea. 

“are you headed to the study now, then?” his knight asks from behind him. he jumps from the sudden sound of their voice and turns around in his chair. 

“i’m not sure,” he answers timidly. “i think…” he doesn’t want to say it. it feels like a secret, like if he reveals where he wants to go and what he wants to do it will reveal what he wants from his knight. what do i want? he asks himself. “i am going to the greenhouse instead,” he says. he’s lying. he wants to go to the field adjacent to the greenhouse. he’s going to grab a picnic blanket and a basket from one of the closets in the kitchen. 

the knight doesn’t question him. they never do. a part of him wishes they would… especially as he rifles through the walk-in pantry, disappearing into the cellar and hoisting himself up metal racks without explanation. 

as they enter the garden, the cool night air helps the tense heat in his body loosen and dissipate. he turns around, holding his knight in place with his sharp gaze. “are you not going to ask me anything?” 

their response is obedient. “what should i ask?”  

he frowns and spins around, taking bigger steps towards the field. 

when they arrive, the grass is dewy. the shine of the moonlight reflects off the droplets like jewelry. it’s quiet, with only the sound of a lonely owl and the wind pulling at the tops of the trees surrounding the clearing. 

and although they try to help, scara angrily pushes his guard away as he sets up the blanket himself. in the basket he’d hastily prepared is a bottle of finely aged wine and two glasses wrapped in cloth.

“d-do you want me to pour you a drink?” scara asks, already having taken a seat. he stares up at his knight who stands a few steps away from the edge of the blanket. ever vigilant, their eyes are turned to the edge of the forest as if expecting an ambush. 

“shouldn’t i keep watch, your majesty?” they ask with the same tilt of their head as earlier. his heart squeezes up in his chest. this won’t do. 

he remembers nahida’s giddy smile in the wake of his honesty. “i wanted to spend time with you,” he admits, voice small. anyone could have missed it in the wind. 

and with the same swiftness as if they had been commanded, his guard takes a seat across from him. scara feels rewarded.

the gaze they turn to him is at an intensity he has never prepared for. he feels like he’s being dissected. filled with nervous energy, scara keeps his hands busy with uncorking the dark red bottle. 

the silence eats away at him, eyes shifting all over as he sets up the frosted glass on the linen blanket. he pours them a drink. “only one,” they say, taking it. “i’ve never been served by royalty. it feels blasphemous, in a way.” 

scara’s mind goes haywire trying to find the right question to ask to foster a proper conversation. it’s as if every etiquette class he managed to attend has been wiped from his memory. “do you drink often?” he finally asks. 

his knight contemplates after their sip. “no… only with friends,” they say. 

“it seems like fun,” scara responds. 

the knight hums. “what, does?” they ask. “drinking with friends?” 

“yes,” scara says, thinking back to the night he spied them in the small crowd of cozy comradery by the fireplace… until he realizes his knight is giving him a knowing smile. 

“you can join next time,” they say softly. 

scara feels his heart thump a little harder. he looks away from their face, spending his focus elsewhere and letting the taste of bittersweet wine flood his tongue. “i think i might scare them with my presence if i interject,” he manages. 

“maybe the first time,” his knight agrees. scara’s shoulders tense. “i’m sure the second time, though, a brave few would extend a mug,” they say, grabbing the wine bottle. “and the third, they might even pour you a drink.” 

as if to prove their point, they pour more wine into his cup. he takes a huge gulp in his nervousness. his knight laughs. scara smiles against his glass. 

“i don’t think you’re scary,” they admit into the cool night air. the sentiment slips into scara’s heart.

><

he rolls around in his bed, unable to sleep. a week had passed since the night sky and the picnic blanket and the wine and his guard and they’re friends and apparently always have been and if that was his goal… 

friends? scara asks himself. he feels greedy. 

he groans, burying his face into his pillow and kicking his feet. he rolls over and over and over until he’s reached the other side of the bed. finding the moon through his window, scara frowns, pushing himself up and tossing his legs over the side of the mattress. if he can’t sleep, he might as well take to the halls.

the castle is quiet except for the occasional jangle of a lamplight in a patrolling guard’s hand. he dips between halls, hiding behind heavy window drapes and slipping into empty closets. he keeps his body as occupied as his mind with the one-sided dance of getting from one wing to the other undetected. 

he has no objective other than to tire himself, flitting from room to room like a moth. he runs his finger down dusty bookcases, breathes on windows till he can draw shapes into the glass, and rearranges decorations to keep the ghost stories circulating among the maids. 

he finds himself near the barracks as if it were the light he was drawn to. 

steps sound in his direction – another patrol – and he reaches for the nearest door handle, hastily disappearing into a room he’s never been in before. he looks around, eyes adjusting to the low light. a small bed and plain canopy take up most of the space… a guest bedroom for visiting servants. he doesn’t seem to be alone this time, though, if the lamplight in the far corner of the room is anything to go by. 

but the sight in the burgundy armchair beside it makes his stomach plummet to the ground. 

“your majesty?” his knight asks in shock, the words smushing together in a rushed jumble. there is a girl in their lap. 

scara stares with wide eyes as the woman scrambles out of her… seat… to bow over and over, apologies spilling from her mouth. he ignores every word. she’s still too close to them, scara thinks. “get out,” he whispers. 

she falls silent, meeting his gaze. “get out,” he says a little louder. she looks at the door and points at herself in confusion. “are you stupid?” scara asks, tone scathing. “get out,” he repeats. 

he feels satisfaction at the fear in her face, dashing past him and through the door in a scramble. it slams closed behind her. why am i so angry? scara thinks, clenching his fists.

“and me?” his knight asks from the chair. “my punishment for my unprofessionalism?” 

scara feels something stinging the back of his eyes when he looks at them. “s-shut up,” he barks. “i’m thinking.” 

“of?” 

his jaw clenches and there’s a fire in his eyes as he asks: “why would you let her touch you?”

it’s so unfair, he thinks.  

“w-wh… sire, what do you mean?” they ask gently. 

“what did she do to deserve it?” scara feels tears welling up in his eyes and he’s mortified by the strength of his emotions, inundated by waves of heat rolling through his limbs. a pit opens up in his stomach as tears begin to drip. “tell me,” he demands, striding over and looming ominously.  

“s-sorry… what?” his knight asks, sitting up in their seat. 

scara pushes them back down into the armchair, feeling his heart flutter as his eyes comb over every detail of their face softened by the glow of the moonlight through the window. “i’m being very clear,” he says, managing to regain the edge to his voice.

they go limp, letting scara dig his fingers into their shoulders and hold them down. “are you asking how we got into that… situation?” 

“yes,” scara says. “what did she do?” he asks, stressing every word of his question.

“u-um, well,” they begin, a little embarrassed. “we talked… it was a bit of flirting… first–

“you look beautiful in the moonlight tonight,” he practically shouts, cutting them off. the compliment loses its meaning entirely through its awkward, manufactured delivery. “now you to me,” he commands. 

and the tension shatters as his knight’s eyes widen, jaw slackening in shock. the prince is so… awkward. it takes everything in them not to laugh in his face.

“is his highness… jealous?” they ask softly, lips curving into a smile. 

“no!” scara bursts, face flushed red. he bites his lip, grabbing the arm rests of the chair and hoisting himself into the seat, straddling his knight’s lap. “i-i can have anything i want,” he says, and yet he nervously searches the knight’s face for any signs of discomfort.  

how painfully endearing. 

they encourage him. “she held my face,” they say. scara takes his two shaking hands and harshly cups his knight’s face, chest rising and falling with quick breaths. “she…” they trail off before biting the inside of their cheek. “she told me how she felt.” 

scara pales. 

he pulls his hands away and wipes his tears with the sleeves of his nightgown. the sound of the ocean in his ears calms to the silence of a still pond. he swallows hard. “i want you close to me. i want you to be closest with me,” he says, voice just above a whisper. 

and his knight sits with his confession for a moment, studying his eyes and the teardrops that had caught in his lashes like watery diamonds. the tip of his nose is red and he keeps sniffling, wiping at his face and looking away like he can’t bear to meet their gaze. it seems almost silly – the prince in a fuss. 

“only if you’ll be close to me,” they say, hands finding scara’s waist. “closest with me.” 

scara’s breath catches in his throat. “are you serious?” he asks. 

“lying would be against my oath,” they say. 

“did you say that to her?” scara asks, frowning. 

“nope,” they say, having to defend themselves like an unfaithful lover. “i’m not even entirely sure what her name is.” 

“then why did you let her touch you?” he asks, eyeing them down suspiciously.

“because i wasn’t aware that i belonged to the prince,” they say, grinning. “it’s news to me, haven’t you realized?” 

scara blushes. “as the prince, i command you to never… do that again with anyone,” he says, lip curling in disgust as he thinks of the maid touching what’s supposed to be his, “anyone but me,” he breathes. 

“you know,” his knight laughs. “you could command me as yourself,” they say. 

scara’s heart stutters like his tongue as he mutters “s-shut up.” he pinches their cheeks hard enough to make them wince. 

“what now?” they ask coyly and scara becomes hyper aware of where he sits, nothing but the thin sheet of silk of his nightgown separating him from his knight. he almost falls backwards as he stands up, putting a bit of distance between them. 

it’s as if the sheer dramatics of his performance have finally caught up to him. 

“i-i don’t know,” he admits. what does he do now that he has what he wants? he has to ask nahida. “i’m… i’m tired,” he lies, adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

“should i escort you to your chambers?” the knight asks, amused. scara backs away towards the door. 

“i know how to get there by myself just fine,” he says, hand grasping for the door handle, “i live here.” 

“goodnight, sire,” they say, leaning forward and propping their chin up with their hand, “take care.” 

“yes, night, good,” he says, shutting the door behind him and taking a deep breath against the wall to calm himself only to realize he’s been caught in the light of a senior patrolling guard’s oil lamp. he’s escorted back to his room by his ear, cursing the entire way.

when he’s tucked away with the senior at his door to keep him inside for the few hours before the sun rises… his stomach is a mess of butterflies – he feels sick and shy with love. morning doves begin to coo in couples as if to remind him of his new other half. 

>< 

his tutor leaves the two alone in the study and scara fills the silence when it grows too loud to ignore. “rid that smile from your face,” he blurts. his knight’s eyes have been burning holes into him the entire morning. 

“i’m happy to see you,” they say. 

and scara can’t help but smile in tandem, gaze glued to the documents piling his desk. he clears his throat. “my mother is hosting an upcoming ball, i know you’ve heard…” he trails off, “and perhaps… perhaps we can practice my waltz tonight?” 

“of course, if it would make you feel prepared for the ball,” they say, committing to the act. they both knew it was an excuse to be near each other without a chaperone and they both knew they would be continuing to make excuses for a long time to come. 

[ventiij]

Could you request an au royal with prince!wanderer x servant!reader where wanderer during the night asks reader to stay until he falls asleep and she ends up falling asleep kneeling next to his bed? (Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my native language)

HOW DID I JUST SEE THIS IT’S BEEN MONTHS I’M SO SORRYYYY

no worries anon, english isn’t my first language either so we’re twinning bbg (it’s four am help)

APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE SINCE THIS SUCKS😭

idk what got into me while I was writing

anyway, here my silly little requested fanfic is 🫢

bg:

before your family had gone broke, you never thoguht you’d find yourself in this situation. at the palace, you really were just a simple servant like everyone said.

…

before your father lost everything there was a rumor which was slowly passing from everyone’s mouth - whoever started working for the royal family wouldn’t make it out of a miserable life, they’d have you wrapped around their fingers.

there was a reason to think that though - the payment wasn’t enough to change job. yes, it was simpls like that. they do offer you a place to stay and food to survive, but overall it was just enough to afford taking a week off when you’re sick, apart from national holidays and all that.

your life isn’t a normal one, nor one somebody would aim at. you are nothing but one of the servants at the royal palace. no-one knows you for who you are, but it’s not all that bad. you have the whole palace for you and your friends, your families and many people you care about, who actually do know the real-you’s worth.

the royals aren’t so bad either! the queen is the one who rules the kingdom as there’s no king, she’s independent, enterprising and has an intimidating story behind her. her name is Raiden Shogun. meanwhile, her son, ‘the wanderer’, is a spoiled brat with an ass attitude who’s against the whole world.

this gremlin spends most of his time around the castle, glaring at every servant while they’re doing their job and stand there watching, only to walk away like nothing happened. there was this one time, when you were mopping the floor… he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a split second! …at least it felt like so.

after a couple more of such events happening to you for no reason, because you work properly (if not splendidly), he suddenly calls out your name while you’re doing your thing. “Y/n.” you turn around all freaked out since it couldn’t possibly mean good things when someone had to deal with this guy, he looked so stern and cold and and-

“meet me in my room after dinner.” he said and just left like that. eh?

His room? did he want you to clean it? Dust it? Make his bed? That wasn’t in the contract… he didn’t mention the reason, so you decide to just go with it.

after dinner, in his room

you greet, slightly bow and stand right before the doorframe, dressed up for the occasion, as you see him in his pajamas. he didn’t even bother to greet you - instead, he straight up ordered you: “stay with me for the night” what. you? what. what again? “me?” he nods and gets in bed looking skeptical as usual “who else?” you just watch from afar, scared you might do something to give him the ick. so this isn’t about cleaning, huh?

“well? aren’t you going to sit down somewhere?” he asks and you just kneel down next to his bed at his height, perfectly intersecating his gaze. “don’t you dare wake me up before 7 am.” ‘bitch?’ you want to reply as he just stares at you. ‘aNyThInG hIs mAjEsTy wAnTs’ like hell you were gonna stay like this for a whole night for no reason.

“Uh, no? This isn’t in the contract.” you contradict him and were prolly one of the few people who did that to him in his whole life,

“alright.” he says as he rolls in bed, turning around and closing his eyes to drift off to sleep.

…does he actually expect you to fall asleep in this position?

some time later

‘can’t deny he looks pretty though.’ you think as you finally come to terms with the fact that he wants you there. your mind can wander all it wants thinking of all the possibile reasons behind this blessing in disguise, but no true reason can be found.

well, it’s only for today. after all, how do you know who you might see as you get out of his room? and what will they think? ugh

aside from that, you could get in his majesty’s graces, soo

this is no occasion to waste.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

HEAR ME OUT, ROYAL AU BUT WITH SCARAMOUCHE

Prince Scaramouche

Tags: Royal AU, Scaramouche, Imagine, Prince!Scaramouche, Princess!Reader, Scaramouche x Reader, Mommy Issues Galore, Lowkey Enemies To Lovers? , Scaramouche is Just Bad w Feelings, Oneshot

Warnings: Mentions Of Scara Being Mean

Scaramouche is an Inazuman prince with mother issues, and you’re a caring princess from Liyue visiting for diplomatic reasons. What could go wrong?

* ˚ ✦ 947 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [30/11/22] ❞

Imagine, Scaramouche is the prince of Inazuma.

He is cold, calculated, and untrusting. He rejects any speck of emotion, whether positive or negative. He loathes his subjects and never ventures outside the castle gates to see the outside world. Since his mother, Ei, cast him aside, he has done nothing but wallow in the confines of his room as the useless, unwanted prince.

He used to have lofty dreams for his future in the kingdom, filled with eternal affection for his citizens and a desire to ascend to the throne in order to better the lives of those who lived beneath him. Yet, for his own mother to consider him an undesirable son, he did not appear to be fit to rule with the iron fist that she hoped of him.

So, imagine his surprise when his mother invited outside guests to their home, and asked him to be present during their visit.

Royals, from Liyue, in fact.

Scaramouche was also thoroughly interested to learn that while not all the royals themselves were able to attend, they sent a group of ambassadors in their steed. But that is not what caught his interest.

No, it was you.

The visiting princess, and the only royal hailing from Liyue who had arrived for diplomatic relations.

Imagine, that as the prince is staring daggers into your back, you make eye contact, and find that his expression is one of an evil, shit-eating smirk. Not even five minutes in Inazuma, and you have created a bright red target on your back for the royal family.

Scaramouche is the polar opposite of you; where he is frigid and wary, you are warm and compassionate. It irritates him more and more as he gets to know you. In some ways, he may identify with your demeanour as it reminds him of shards of his former self. However, it just serves to infuriate him. He's been wounded by Ei many times, so forgive him for not inviting a stranger into his home with open arms. Who's to tell your sweet disposition isn't all a ruse?

But it isn't, and he knows that. Scaramouche understands that he can't simply go out and play cruel pranks on you to get you to crack, but that doesn't mean he isn't trying. At least, in subtle ways that is. He'll mock you, taunt you, and make catty remarks. Scaramouche would never intentionally ruin Liyue and Inazuma's relationship, but he occasionally believes that if he acts out, Ei will acknowledge him. Even if the attention is negative.

You, on the other hand, give him attention, which he desires from anyone who is willing to offer it to him. But, just as quickly as he becomes attached to someone who makes him feel vulnerable, he pushes them away. But not with you.

Once he quits attempting to reveal your 'true' nature during your visit, he gradually but steadily eases into being comfortable around you. While he is still harsh at times, his jokes take on a more lighthearted tone. And you eventually become friends. At least, according to you. Scaramouche laughed in your face the first time you called him so, despite the fact that he knows it's true.

Perhaps there's another reason he's so infuriated by your smile, and how you seem to make his pulse beat faster every time you come close. When he cracks mean jokes, you may respond with one of your own. Of course, this is all in good fun, but it makes him dizzy since you don't even react badly to his jokes. Curse you for being so patient and also so amusing.

Scaramouche has developed a crush on you, but since he denounces all his feelings as stupid, he believes his infatuation with you is clearly just being annoyed that you, well, exist.

You might be a kind and warm princess, but not a stupid one.

That’s why, when one day, Scaramouche decided to make a teasing joke about how “you wanna kiss me sooo bad”, you do it. For once you got him to shut up, but left him in a sputtering, flushed mess in the process. After composing himself from the mental combustion he just experienced, he throws his massive hat at you and walks away with the back of his hand shielding his cheeks.

Later that night, you paid his chambers a visit, hat in hand. Scaramouche was about to shut the door in your face, but not before you wedged your foot between it. Of course he is blushing again, because how can he face you after the events of earlier?

You make your way into his room, and plop down on a chair. Beckoning him to come sit with you, he does so begrudgingly.

Imagine Scaramouche, for the first time in his life, being able to talk about his feelings without feeling sick. And, as he tries to communicate his feelings to you in yet another dumb, teasing way, you kiss him again, the words dying in his throat. You tell him you share his feelings. You also suspect you may have had just broken him, because the words he is attempting to compose in his mind are being vocalized in vain.

Days pass since that night, and Scaramouche is still awkwardly trying to figure out how to express his feelings to you nicely.

But, you make him kind again. You make him trusting.

That’s why it hurts all the more when you have to leave him. Of course your stay wasn’t permanent.

That’s why it also makes him happiest, when Ei tells him she received a proposal from Liyue two weeks later for his hand in marriage.

[primofate]

The Ruthless Prince (Part 20) 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.

Note: The next chapter will be an epilogue of sorts. This is already the end, actually, but I’m just going to tie up some loose ends in Chapter 21, just so everything is a little smoothened out. gnosis, kuni, tartaglia, scara and reader talking and all those other things.

Warnings: severely injured reader, soft Scara, I feel like the reunion was abrupt but I was kind of going for that? idk. it was too long already.

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary and a recap on the Royal AU plots are here.

Read other parts: (Ruthless Prince Masterlist)

“The Harvest Festival is in a few days,” 

The sound of cutlery clinking over the plates and food being passed around was the norm during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Somehow with his mother and father home there was always something to talk about, but not everything caught Scaramouche’s attention. 

“...So it is,” Scaramouche answered his father only out of courtesy, he wasn’t really all that interested in the upcoming Harvest Festival. Why would he be? 

Father and Mother exchanged looks, watching as their son yet again picked at his plate, pushing food around as if that would trick them into thinking he was eating healthily. He’d been eating sparsely, only what he felt like he needed and that usually wasn’t more than a few spoonfuls of soup, or half a steak. 

“It’d be good to get some fresh air, the townspeople will be excited,” It was his mother who suggested this, glancing at her son who nodded and finally picked up a piece of egg to eat. 

“I’ll go on patrol, I always am on that day anyway,” Scaramouche replies, to which his mother frowns. That wasn’t what she meant. She had wanted Scaramouche to enjoy the festivities, not manage it. She holds back a sigh. She wasn’t all that surprised. 

It’d been two weeks since the tragic incidents, and the prince had gone out every single day to go looking around that river. He’d even asked for permission to go a bit further, and knights had been dispatched to check the villages that might be around the Musoujin Gorge. None of them had come back with the good news that Y/N was alive.

Mother thought that her son had been in a state of paralysis ever since then. The only thing that drove Scaramouche forward was the fact that he was not giving up yet, but day by day they saw that he was losing his last threads of hope. 

He’d always been a rather detached boy, even more so after the accident with the delusions. Perhaps it was his way of keeping people away from him and protecting himself. His mother saw him reverting back to that coldness. When she arrived, at least there had been a trace of sadness, of guilt and of anger. Emotions that made him human.

Two weeks later and he looked as if he was cold as stone. Like he was trying not to care about it anymore, the fact that Y/N was gone. As if he was trying to fill that empty hole in his chest with more emptiness, until he wasn’t able to feel a thing. Perhaps it was his fault anyway, getting so attached to someone like that. That’s what he was afraid of in the first place, needing someone. 

He had always been alright by himself, had never needed someone nor relied on someone except himself, and then everything changed in that few months of discovering what companionship was. 

Now he was just trying to unlearn it. 

On top of that, Scaramouche had to break it to Y/N’s parents that she had gone missing. It was only the second time that he’d seen them. Once during the wedding, and very briefly without even a chance to say hello–not that he cared at that moment either–and now it felt strange to be visiting them only to bring them bad news. 

He recalled that event. It was…somewhat easier than he thought it would be. He insisted on doing it by himself, without the presence of other knights. Your mom and dad recognized him immediately, as he climbed off his horse and waited at the modest wooden half-gate of your quaint house. 

“I…won’t be coming in anymore…” he stood outside of the gate even as your mom and dad opened it for him. They both had smiles on their faces, thinking that it was a pleasant surprise to have him visit. Scaramouche could see on their faces that they had no real idea of what you had to go through, perhaps because worrying them was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Your parents thoroughly believed from the get go that you had fallen head over heels for the prince, and that the prince had felt the same. That somewhat made him uneasy, because it was the furthest thing from the truth.

He bowed his head towards them, and told them what happened. He couldn’t bear to look into their faces and watch it fall. Couldn’t fathom what kind of emotions might be passing through their expressions. 

However, when he finished, the first thing he heard was a chuckle. Scaramouche picks his head up to look at your parents. Yes, they had pained expressions on their faces, your mother more so, looking as if she was on the verge of a breakdown, but your father was looking at the ground with a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Y/N has always been a little reckless,” he breathes out, voice quiet. “We’ve always been worried that she’d cause some type of trouble for you, prince,” Scaramouche almost grimaced at the wrong interpretation of things. If anything he had been the only trouble in your life. 

“But she’s a good person at heart and she does things that she thinks is best for others…We’re powerless to do anything about the situation…but we believe you’ll do your best to bring her back to us…” Your dad’s voice breaks at the end, and it almost knocks Scaramouche off of his emotional footing as well. They were kind and humble people, he was astounded as to how they had put their trust on him so easily, but then again, the whole kingdom had probably trusted him in the same way, despite rumors of him being ruthless.

“Could you stay a moment, prince?” Your mom finally lifts her head up, and hurries back into the house, seemingly to retrieve something. Scaramouche had the strange urge to tell them that they didn’t have to address him so formally, but didn’t have the guts to say it out loud. 

Mom came back with something in her hands. It was a worn-out teddy bear, with a purple ribbon round its neck. Scaramouche could tell it was old because some of the fur was matted and one of the eyes was off of its socket. Your mom held it out to him and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to receive it, but he held a hand out and she passed it on to him.

“...This…is…?” Scaramouche started, completely confused. The teddy bear was like any other size, one that could tuck into your arms comfortably. 

“Y/N’s teddy bear. She never got rid of it. I know it must be silly,” your mom explained. “But she has a certain attachment to that thing,” Scaramouche suddenly felt an odd sense of unexplainable fondness for the bear. “...Maybe it’ll give you some good luck,”

Good luck was not the only thing it had given Scaramouche. It gave him comfort. He wouldn’t admit it but he had been infinitely glad he had visited your parents, despite bringing bad news, he came back with a bit more hope and a bit more determination and he promised he would update them weekly. 

As Scaramouche sat through breakfast, he also relived his memories of Kuni’s funeral. It had been a week ago already, and as he thought, all the castle personnel were present to bid him goodbye. Scaramouche wasn’t brave enough to say goodbye out loud, but he promised himself he’d come back to his grave, and he’d come back with you. He’ll probably have more courage then, and Kuni will probably be happier to see you in tow with him. 

“I’m going out,” Scaramouche announced as he finished breakfast. He said it like he was a teenager who didn’t have a care in the world except for his own agendas. His mother and father didn’t stop him, knowing where he was going to be for the afternoon: looking for you on horseback. It was like a routine now, a tedious one at that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re not well enough to go anywhere,” Serena, for the third time that day, reminds the young lady she and her husband had picked up at the river banks. 

“Maybe in a few days, or a week. You’ve come a long way from when you first woke up. Though, I really don’t think you should be walking around so casually,” She grasps your elbows gently, looking over the several bandages on your body. It’s a wonder that you were up and so raring to go, you’ve told her over a thousand times that you had to get back to the capital, but that was at least a day’s worth of travel, and your body wasn’t ready for that. 

“I promised you’d be back by the Harvest Festival, remember?” She smiled softly, like a parent tenderly scolding her own daughter and you sighed. Truth be told it was difficult just standing up, but it had been far too long that you were cooped up in their extra room. 

You gained consciousness two weeks back, but it was a hard two weeks of recovery that followed after. You found out that your arm was broken, a place in your knee was fractured, and a portion of your back was purple with bruises. All of this was the result of throwing yourself off the cliff and into the Musoujin Gorge. You guessed that the harsh currents flipped and tumbled you around, flinging you through the waters until your body had miraculously been caught by a large tree root. On top of that, you had woken up with a severe fever.

All of which was painstakingly taken care of by Serena and Finnian. 

They had quite literally saved your life.

At the moment of waking it was impossible to think of anything but the pain. Forget the gnosis, forget the kingdom, forget Scaramouche or the fact that Kuni had stayed behind to give you the chance to run, all your mind could think about was the constant throb of pain all over your body. It was physically relentless, but also mentally mind-breaking. 

It had only been two days ago that you woke and finally felt some semblance of yourself coming back. Your real memories, thoughts, feelings. Your consciousness really putting things together and making you remember things like the ring, the gnosis, the fact that everyone in the kingdom must be out looking for you. 

The ring was nowhere to be found and when you asked Serena and Finnian about it they didn’t recall seeing one on you. You quickly assumed that you had lost it during the whole ordeal. The gnosis, however, when asked about it, Serena was quick to think out loud. “...Do you mean the glowing chess piece? It’s still tucked in your leather breast pocket.” She explained that they had rummaged through your clothes to find out any clue of your identity, but there was none. 

You yourself had not told them that you were the kingdom’s princess. Besides, you were outside the kingdom walls, and their modest and quiet part of the world was technically not part of the kingdom. What would they say anyway? Perhaps they would think that you’d hit your head too hard, or was having delusions of grandeur. So you kept the fact to yourself. 

Serena and Finnian lived in quite a large home. Though they didn’t live luxuriously, one could tell that they were well-off by the way that everything was neat and proper, the way that they always had three meals a day and an extra room in their home. 

You had stepped outside once, and discovered that the “garden” or “backyard” that Serena had always talked about, was acres and acres of apple trees.

Sometimes workers would come and handpick the apples, which Finnian would then ship to towns and cities to supply market stalls or restaurants with. It was the exact reason they lived quite far away from everything else, because of their apple business and the sheer amount of space they needed to grow those trees. 

Though they were considered to be in the outskirts of Higi Village, it still wasn’t easy to travel to and from the village without someone who knew the way. 

“...When did you say the Harvest Festival was?” You asked once again, obeying Serena’s slight push for you to take a seat on the dining table. She yet again let out a soft sigh, as if she had told you this a thousand times before already. “In a few days, Y/N. Five, to be exact. Next week,” then she paused, and gave you a once over again. “But I’m really not sure if you’d be well enough to travel into the kingdom, it’s a long ride–”

“It’ll be fine, I really need to get back,” There was desperation in your voice. Serena always heard it. She refrained from saying anything else, and then she instead offered something comforting.

“Would you like a slice of apple pie? We’ve got plenty to go around,” She goes back into the open kitchen and checks the old stone oven for the pie. You’re not able to answer her, for some reason you had gone back to mulling around in your thoughts. You stared at her back blankly, a feeling of gratitude washing over you quite strongly. 

“...Thank you, Serena. I really wouldn’t know what to do if I had ended up anywhere else, or alone, or…” Serena’s braided hair swayed with her as she turned around, knowing that you were having one of your moods again. You’ve thanked her almost every single day now, and you still couldn’t thank her enough. 

Finnian and her never questioned you. Never questioned who you were, why you so badly wanted to go back to the kingdom, didn’t even bat an eye as to whether you were a good person or a bad person. Serena said something about just trusting her gut feeling, but you had probably seen so much tragedy in the past two weeks that trust was not something you could easily hand out to anyone. 

“We’re going through this again?” She places her hands at her hips, ruffling the loose dress that she had on a, making the little pregnant bulge of her tummy show through. You chuckled sheepishly and shrugged, not being able to help yourself nor your feelings. 

“The only thanks I need is for you to be home safe,” Serena adds, before turning around towards the kitchen and prepping the apple pie. 

You hum a little, and your mind wanders again. 

In a quiet place like this and your current state, it was easy for your mind to wander. Mostly because your body couldn’t, and all you could do was think. A lot. 

The image of Scaramouche flashes in your mind and it always surprised you how gut-wrenching it was to remember him. It was painful to think about what your mom and dad might be going through but when it came to Scaramouche…There was pain and loneliness and fear and anxiety and…all these mixes of emotions that whirled around in your chest. 

“You’re thinking of someone again,” You were brought back to reality by the clink of a plate of apple pie in front of you, on the table. There was a tiny fork that came with it and it was still piping hot, judging from the steam coming off of it. 

Serena was perceptive, perhaps because she was formerly a doctor but she always knew when you were thinking of Scaramouche. She said it’s because you had a really sad look on your face, and you always wondered what kind of face she was seeing.

You laughed nervously and picked up the fork just to twirl it around in your fingers, caught in the act of thinking about him. “I just… I wonder how he is… He must be so pissed off right now,” You laugh a little, and it makes your ribs hurt, so you abruptly stop with a wince. Serena shakes her head disapprovingly. It was strange, the way you described your husband. 

At first she was even shocked that you were married. You had seemed so young, but she wasn’t the type to question nor judge people for it. Then she asked what kind of person your husband was, just out of curiosity. You answered with something unexpected, something along the lines of him being a completely uncaring individual, harsh mannerism, and annoying stubbornness. 

For a moment Serena wondered if it was really safe for you to go back home, it didn’t sound as if it was a healthy household, but…there was a weird fondness on your face when you described him. Like you held a secret dear to your heart, like there was something more to him than what you had just said. 

At first there had been a sense of urgency in you, feeling as if you had to find out what happened to the war, to Kuni, to Tartaglia, to Scaramouche. Feeling as if you had the duty of bringing the gnosis back as soon as you could…but your body had been failing you, and you relented, convincing yourself that your recovery should be your first priority. 

“Do you have kids together?” Serena asked innocently and you sputtered at air almost immediately.

“Wh-What? No!” Serena merely chuckled and patted her belly. “Ah, well I wonder what the little one will be like,” she thought aloud, and you feel relieved at the sudden change in topics. Serena had a few moments like these where she would stop and think about her being a mother, if she was going to be a good one or if everything would be alright. 

“You’ll be a great mom and if the baby is anything like you then he or she is already set for life,” 

“Well if you decide you want kids of your own it’d be nice for you to visit and for my little one to have a playmate. There aren’t a lot of kids in old Higi Village you know?” 

Again, you choked on air at the thought of having kids with Scaramouche. That was not in any of your immediate plans, it was not even in your mind at all and thinking about it right now was a little…weird, and perhaps it made you slightly embarrassed as well, thinking about what type of family the two of you would end up having, if you were to have one at all. You didn’t know what Scaramouche’s view on that was, and it felt far too fast to talk about it. 

“Kids or no kids, I promise I’ll visit,” you reassure Serena, knowing in your mind that this home of theirs and their kind hearts already had a special place in your memory. 

For the rest of the day the two of you indulged in small talk and the wonderful apple pie she made. You were forced to bedrest soon after, and though you always slept peacefully, there were many a night where nightmares would haunt you, reminding you that you were once so close to death, and still so far from home. 

It was 4 days later when Finnian and Serena started preparations for the Harvest Festival. It seemed that they attended it every year, and they put up a market stall in the streets of the kingdom just as all the other farmers and businessmen did. Both Finnian and Serena would man their stall, and they would travel with their freshest apples into the kingdom and sell them, along with enjoying the festivities that the kingdom had prepared. 

At that point you still had a sling on your arm, your middle was still bandaged and you still had a slight limp on your leg. Serena was adamant on making you stay a week longer, worried about the bumpy and arduous ride to the kingdom, but you wouldn’t have any of it, telling her that the earlier you got home, the better and this was the perfect opportunity to, since the two of them were heading towards the kingdom as well. 

You’re not sure what it was that changed Serena’s mind, your pleading, perhaps Finnian talked to her about it, or perhaps she just saw that you were well enough, but you embarked on the journey to the castle with them. 

Serena lent you one of her old dresses, from before she was pregnant. It was a rather plain and rather every day, mundane piece of clothing. If people didn’t recognize you, they probably wouldn’t give you a second look, because it surely was not the type of clothing a princess would be in. 

You had no problems with it, this was exactly the type of clothing you wore before your life in the castle. Plus, it was infinitely more comfortable than the leather armor that was now packed into a rucksack on your back. The lot of you left at noon, stopped by at a village for one night and continued on until the morning, arriving a little late as the festivities had already started and stalls were already up. 

Serena and Finnian wasted no time setting up their apple stall, and as much as you wanted to help them, you were still awestruck that you were back here. The cobbled stones were familiar, the bustle of people in the market was home, even the air here was friendly and for a moment while Serena and Finnian busied themselves, you couldn’t help but circle around in place just taking in the comfort of it all. 

You whipped around, about to tell Serena and Finnian that you were going somewhere, back to the castle, but noticed that they were too engrossed in setting up their stall. Despite wanting to go as soon as possible, you also didn’t want to leave them without helping nor saying a proper thank you. 

“Let me help,” you were an arm down but you could still do some small chores here and there, though Serena gave you a disapproving look. It took nearly an hour more to set up and get everything going, it seemed as if Serena knew some people here, as ladies passed by and greeted her. It may just be apples, but it looked as if their harvest was pretty reputable. 

In then struck you to at least buy a few from them. You didn’t have money right now, but you could easily go to the castle and back to the stall to pay them. in your mind, you just wanted to do all that you could for them, and that included buying some of their produce. 

“Serena, I’ll have some too,” You grabbed one of their wooden baskets, and told her you’d grab a dozen. Finnian was the one who helped you stack the apples in your basket, seeing as your one arm was still in a sling.

Serena approached you curiously, letting out a small “Hmm…” As she looked at you. Sort-of tacky green, empire dress. Basket of apples in your good hand. You blinked at her, wondering what she was staring at, but she had spoken up before you. “You know, with that basket of apples, I can’t help but think I’ve seen you before,” she gave you a lopsided smile and for a split second a spark of a memory clicks in you, but it was gone in seconds. 

Both of your attentions were thrown away from each other when cheers and claps erupted from behind you, and the familiar sound of hooves on the cobbled pavement reached your ears. Without thinking much of it at all, you turned, picked your eyes up to take a look at what everyone found so interesting, only to find electric blue-purple eyes meeting yours.

Unlike the first time you met, this time you were sure your heart stopped beating. The world around you slowed down and it looked as if it had been the same for Scaramouche. He’d been approaching by horseback, the citizens greeting him and his eyes couldn’t help but graze over the apple stall a few steps away. 

Before he knew it you were staring right back at him and the breath was knocked away from his chest. The cheers around him were like dull sounds that one would hear when you were half asleep. Everything else happening around him took place in the background and all he could see was your face looking up at him, surprise starting to slowly etch over, your jaw opening just as slow as everything else.

There was a sudden, unusual silence in his world. Despite the cheers, the sounds of the city, the loudness of the festivities he could hear nothing except for when your lips moved and uttered his name. “Scara…”

And suddenly everything was back, the noise hitting him on all sides but he had dismounted his horse faster than he could even blink and sprinted up towards you to embrace you in his arms. You dropped the basket of apples in shock, and also because him barreling into you hurt a little, but it hurt in a good way, to see that he was well and that he had missed you this dearly. 

“Y/N, what–” Scaramouche couldn’t find his words. His hands gripped tight at your dress, thinking that if he lifted even a finger away from you that you would suddenly disappear again. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, could feel by how so tightly he hugged you that he would never let you go again. You returned the sentiment, but could only move one hand around his back and buried your head into his chest, tears already spilling down your cheeks. 

“I-I’m home,” your shoulders trembled, and for a moment you thought his did too. He had his head dropped atop of yours and you could feel his chest stutter a little, as if trying to get a hold of his breathing. 

“...Idiot, you–” he could not form his words yet. Weeks and weeks of looking for you amounted to nothing and to be frank he had been at the end of his wits. He finally pulled back, angry scowl on his face yet his eyes glistened a little. “Where were you?!” He shouted as if he was seriously angry, but you knew his moods and mannerisms well enough to know that it was out of concern and possibly built up tension. 

“I–” You were cut off by his hand cupping your cheek, eyes narrowing at the small scratch on your chin at the same time as him swiping away your tears. Then narrowing even further when he realized your arm was broken. “You’re hurt,” he then stepped away, but refused to let go of your good hand, looking and scanning your form. “Where else?” He demands.

Serena had watched the whole thing unfold with Finnian, as did the rest of the stalls around them. She was dumbfounded. The attire that Scaramouche wore could only signal that he was an important person around here, and if she wasn’t mistaken, this was the prince of the kingdom, dubbed the ruthless prince. And yet, as Serena looked on, there was not an ounce of him that was harsh nor uncaring towards you.

In fact, the way he held you, the way he looked over you, asked you and questioned you, these were all just out of what Serena could observe and describe as love. 

“Umm… A lot of other places…” You whispered and Scaramouche’s eyes darted up towards yours. “Then you can’t be walking around like this, I’ll bring you back, let’s–” 

“Hold on,” you cut him off gently, pulling at his hand. You could see the urgency in his eyes, the need to just get you back home into safety, the fear that this was all a dream that he would wake up alone all over again. 

You pulled him over, towards Serena and Finnian. It was only right to introduce them. You waved a hand out to gesture towards the two of them, “Serena and Finnian saved my life. They really…” you paused, feeling as if you might cry again, gulping the lump in your throat. “They really helped me out, I’d be dead if not for them,” Your gaze dropped on the floor but Serena had merely waved a hand. 

“We just did what we thought was right…Also you didn’t tell me it was the prince you were wedded to, Y/N,” Serena looked as if valuable gossip had just been yanked away from her, but she was more astounded than disappointed. You smiled a little but before you could say anything Scaramouche had stepped up again.

“...Thank you,” Your head whipped around towards him. It’d been the first time you heard him express open gratitude to someone else and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom in your chest. “The Harvest Festival goes on for two days, I understand that the two of you must have an inn for tonight already… but please let me take care of any expenses you might have while in the kingdom,” Scaramouche’s offer took you aback. The matureness of his offer…strangely put him in an even more charming light. 

Serena and Finnian looked at each other, with Finnian about to protest, but Serena put a hand on his arm, knowing that the prince wouldn’t take no for an answer. You did mention how stubborn he was, which was funny to Serena, because you were just as stubborn. “That’s extremely generous of you, your highness. Thank you,” 

Scaramouche nodded once, then pulled you back with him. “I’ll be taking her for now, we’ll come and visit again after she’s had a rest,” he waved a hand behind towards his knights, pointing at the basket of apples that you had left on the ground, signaling them to pick it up while Scaramouche took you to his horse. You turned your head back briefly to wave at Serena and Finnian, mouthing a ‘see you later’ to them, because you weren’t satisfied with just leaving them like that. 

“Can you get on the horse?” Scaramouche protectively grasps your elbow, “Here I’ll hoist you up,” and manages to get you up. He follows easily and sits behind you, his arms trapping you as he tugs on the horse’s reins. 

He was so close to you this way, but there was nothing at all to complain about. The horse started to trudge forward towards the castle, you were aware that Scaramouche wasn’t going too fast, perhaps in fear of jostling your wounds. 

“...Aren’t you tired? Lean on me a little more,” He was demanding today, and unashamed to speak out. You feel your cheeks heat up a little, thinking that he had never been as affectionate before, but you understood where it was coming from. 

You also couldn’t deny that trying to sit and balance on a horse was a little difficult in your state, and leaning back towards him would give him a bit of your weight to carry, so you did as told. 

He sighs when you do, feeling your back against his chest, and as the horse moves forward automatically, Scaramouche dips his head towards the crook of your neck. You feel his lips press against your skin there, and you can’t help but whisper his name. “Scara…”

“...You have no idea…” He whispers back, almost sounding like his voice might break. “How long I looked for you,” he uses an arm to pull you tight against him, the other still on the horse’s reins. He could not wait even a second to just be nearer to you, could not wait until the two of you were in the privacy of your room. With how many weeks he lost, every second counted to him.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you reached a hand out and behind you to cradle the side of his face. Fingers brushing against his ear and his cheek. 

“...Just don’t do it again, you hear me?” His voice comes out stronger this time, head pulling away from your neck and straightening up on his horse again. “We’ll talk later. I want to get you checked by the doctor and you’ll have a nap, then you’ll tell me everything,” He still spouted commands like a leader, like you had no choice in the matter, but you had no good reason to say no to his demands.

“I hear you,” you reply with a slight chuckle to your tone. You turn your head sideways, just enough for you to see him in your peripheral vision. “...Scara…?” You whisper, and something about that whisper pulls at Scaramouche to look at you. 

From this angle, you looking sideways up at him, and him looking down at your face, there’s almost something innocent about your gaze and yet your lips spoke of something different.

They trembled, like you wanted to request for something but couldn’t quite say it out loud. 

It’d been far too long, he thought to himself. Far too long since he had kissed you and he didn’t think he could wait through the ride home. 

He pulls on the horse’s reins, and it stops. He tilts your chin up, leans a little sideways to maneuver his head around to reach your lips, and the soft press of yours on his was enough to restart his heart and tell him that you were indeed, back here with him. He shuddered. The kiss was innocent, but the feelings were intense. 

After weeks of not even having a trace of you, this kiss was like salvation to him. A promise that he would try to look after you better, to not have to be apart for so long again, to protect what the two of you had because he damn well felt alive again even after all that had happened, having you was like pumping blood into his once cold veins. 

He leaned in further into the kiss for a mere second, and broke it with a sigh. You instantly followed up with a relaxed, “I’m home,” once again repeating the simple sentence that brought comfort to his heart, as if you were gone just to get groceries. 

He smirked a little, and despite having so many questions in his mind he could only think that this moment was what he was waiting for. He whispers in your ear, wanting his sentiments to be a secret, for your ears and his only. The tenderness of it hidden away from the rest of the world. 

“Welcome home, my princess,” 

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[whitestlotus]

Fragment of a Memory (Scaramouche/Wanderer x F!Reader) | Chapter 1

Synopsis: The Teyvat Empire has fallen and split into seven kingdoms. In the serene electro kingdom, Inazuma – resides the crown prince of the original empire, Kabukimono. At a young age, he was introduced to the newly chosen crown princess of the Kingdom of Liyue, Princess Ningjing. Over the years, the prince has grown fond of the princess and later on asked her hand in marriage. This strengthens the political ties between Inazuma and Liyue amidst a faltering peace treaty among the seven nations. Alas, it only took a matter of time until a war broke out ultimately ending the life of the beloved princess. Devastated, Kabukimono vows to protect Ningjing in another life.

In the year 2023, over a thousand years after the Teyvatian War, Celestia – formerly known as Teyvat – was a flourishing country. Y/N, a 21-year-old college student studying Psychology, cross paths with Kunikuzushi. He is not the most positive person for lack of a better word. But what happens if suddenly as each day passes, a fragment of a memory that feels familiar returns to you?

And you are not the only one.

Chapter Warning: Swearing

Book Masterlist | General Masterlist

Book Playlist

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉  

A loud thud can be heard from across the room. Everyone drew their attention to the source of the sound and to no one's surprise, it was just Scaramouche. He threw a book at Xiao. The mint green-haired man maintained a deadpan face as he slowly returns to what he was doing prior to getting thrown at.

“Scara, could you PLEASE – for the love of God – calm the fuck down. Why did you throw the book at Xiao?” Y/N sighs as she walks over.

“All I did was tell him that if he wants to live up to his degree, he should quit his temper” Xiao mutters while resting his chin on the palm of his hand; eyes still locked on the book he seems engrossed in.

“So much for majoring in psychology” Lumine’s giggles were abruptly stopped by her twin, Aether, slapping her shoulder.

Scaramouche scoffs and gives everyone the middle finger before storming off. Y/N asks Xiao if his head was okay but Xiao just lets out a small ‘mhm’. She massages her temple and lets out a quiet frustrated groan. Annoyed yet concerned for Xiao, Y/N walks out of the classroom and makes her way to the clinic to grab an ice pack. As she passes the food court, she noticed a familiar purple-haired figure struggling with the vending machine. She leans on the wall nearby watching him like a hawk anticipating what he will do next. He pulls his sleeves up and tilts the vending machine forward, his drink was stuck. Y/N stifles a laugh as she walks over and gives a small pat on his shoulder. Scaramouche was startled but regained his composure quickly. He adjusted the vending machine back upright and as he was about to leave; Y/N pulls the hood of his hoodie back.

“Your drink?” She points at the still-stuck drink.

“Well Sherlock, it's clearly stuck.” He rolls his eyes crossing his arms in the process.

Y/N scans the food court for any student or staff. She looks at Scaramouche in the eyes and brings her index finger up to her lips. She reaches behind the vending machine and grabs ahold of a key that was left there. She unlocks the machine door, takes his drink out, and hands it to him. She swiftly puts the key back where it belonged leaving no trace.

“Wow, an actual thief.” He stares at her with disbelief.

“Oh come on, it's not like you didn’t pay for it. Before you say anything, I do pay for my drinks too.”

“No one would suspect a thing though if you just steal.”

“I have morals, Scara.” You press a few buttons on the vending machine after slipping a mora bill through the slot, treating yourself to a drink as well.

“If you say so.” He shrugs as he pulled the tab of his drink making an audible hiss sound.

“You know, you’re gonna have to fix that temper of yours if you want to make it through the course let alone the school year.” You pulled a random chair nearby and took a seat as you twist the cap of your drink. 

“Can’t help it.”

“Well, you obviously can’t with a mindset like that.” You retort.

“Have you submitted the paper for our group already?” He ignores your statement.

“Are you seriously changing the topic right now? And no I haven’t”

“Then get to it.” He walks off.

You stare at him in disbelief as he disappears from your sight as soon as he makes a right turn. You feel a hand pushing your jaw upwards gently which startled you. You look to your right and it was Tartaglia. He was still wearing his basketball jersey meaning he just finished his varsity training.

“Stop gawking at him like a goldfish, girlie” He jokes.

You swat his hand away and pinch your nose as tight as possible, “You actually reek.”

Tartaglia puts a hand over his chest and expresses an offended scoff, “Excuse me, it is a product of my HARD WORK”

You roll your eyes and push him toward the direction of the locker room with your index finger. He looks back at you and lets out a pout. He actually looks like a dog and you hate it. You let out a sigh and decide you will walk him to the locker room. He lets out a goofy smile and slings an arm around your shoulder, still obviously wet with his sweat.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, the clinic just so happens to be in the same general direction” You clarify.

“What are you doing in the clinic? Did you get hurt or something? Do you want me to carry you?” He teases as he bends down in front of you gesturing you to ride his back. You walk past him pretending he didn’t exist anymore.

“Oh come on, I was just kidding!” He runs back to your side again without the arm around your shoulders.

“Scara threw a book at Xiao.”

“Sad”

“I got worried because it was a hard-bound book too”

“Double sad”

“Could you just shut the fuck up?” You flick his temple, enjoying the sound of him letting out an ‘ouch’.

After dropping him off at the locker room, you made your way to the clinic. You requested an icepack from the nurse and walked back to the room just in time before the bell. You gave Xiao the ice pack before returning to your seat. Classes were the same, nothing interesting, and the occasional pop quiz here and there. You stare at the notes you had taken during each class and skim through each one as a sort of review. Every so often, you would glance at your phone to check the time. 

“That’s odd…” You thought to yourself. It's stuck at 3:33 pm.

You take a look around and noticed that everyone is gone. Your heart rate quickens out of both fear and confusion. You leave the classroom only to find nothing but empty halls. Your head starts to ache, making you drop down to the ground while grasping your head. All of a sudden, an image? No, a memory appears in your mind.

“Princess, this is Prince Kabukimono. Think of him as your playdate!” 

Kabukimono? Why does his name sound so familiar…

“Salutations Prince Kakukimono!” A little girl smiles cheerfully.

“It’s Kabukimono, but greetings Princess Ningjing.” The little boy, a prince, sticks out a hand for the princess to shake.

The memory was interrupted by loud chattering mixed with murmurs and whispers. You look up and found yourself in the middle of the school building entrance on your knees. You quickly prop yourself up and run back to your classroom. You check your phone, 4:26 pm. As you arrived back at your classroom, you packed your notes and laptop. You bid your friends goodbye and ran back to your dorm. You didn’t brush off the event a while ago so quickly, you were concerned. 

“What was that…” You set up your laptop and did a quick search. You typed in ‘Kabukimono’ and analyzed the results. He was the last prince of the Inayue Dynasty – a dynasty wherein the kingdom of Inazuma and Liyue merged due to a political marriage. You took out a notebook and jot down what you just read and what you can still recall from the memory that you just saw. You then searched ‘Ningjing’ and lo and behold, she was also a real person. She was the last princess of the Inayue Dynasty as well. Her death, however, was a tragic one. During a war that prompted the Teyvatian war soon after, she was shot by an arrow to the heart. She was then laid to rest on Mt. Narukami. Her husband – the prince – was also laid to rest next to her. His cause of death was unknown. 

You rest against the backrest of your chair and let out a deep exhale. You quickly made safe assumptions in your mind.

Yes, they are real people.

Yes, you did see a possible memory of them and no, you are not so sure if that is how they exactly met.

Yes, you are intrigued…too intrigued.

Ruffling your hair, you stand up and plop onto the bed. Being too tired from today’s events, you didn’t bother to change your clothes and immediately fall asleep. Instead of seeing darkness from closing your eyes, you were engulfed in a bright light. You rub your eyes to adjust your vision. As your eyes focus, you found yourself in a large garden. Cherry blossom leaves dancing in the wind, the sound of a small stream nearby caressing your ears, and a beautiful red gazebo with two children writing on a piece of paper and a woman who you believe resembles that of a shrine maiden next to them. She had pink locks complimented by her soothing voice.

“Your Highness Ningjing, this is how you write-” The shrine maiden’s hand was wrapped around the small hand of the little girl, ready to teach her how to write. She was interrupted by the said little girl pouting.

“Miss Miko, please don’t call me ‘Your Highness’ just call me Princess or Ningjing!”

“My apologies, Yo- Princess…it is, however, royal protocol to address you as such.”

“It's just the three of us here no need to worry!” The little girl lets out a wide smile.

“That is noted, Princess” Miko affirmed.

The scene then fades to white and then to black. A loud sound blares through your ears, it was your alarm.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉    

Next Chapter

[its-stvrr]

'If i were you and, you were i' Scara x reader .1

Each clan hated eachothers guts. slaughtered the people who dared to step foot on their land knowing shogun or kamaki in their name. with the same words. "Glory to the shogun clan" , "Glory to the kamaki clan".

Three, three siblings all created from the same ancient method. A khanreia way of making 'humans' or puppets i should say. Three, each of them had a perspective of the mother. one says "How selfish of her. Bringing us to this cruel world just because of something she couldn't achieve herself." another says. "She was loving, caring and kind but yet died at the hand of a clan she yet despised. she died with nothing but a pure heart." the last says. "I wish i knew more about her, knowing why she brought us to this world knowing we are never going to be blood but strangers."

Oh, the diffrences. They all watched as ancient Inazuma ascended to a closed nation. On how their relatives were killed because of a name. Oh, how the shogun angered the oldest daughter of the clan. Yet she never expected it to reach their limit.

to: (name) kamaki.

As our hatred has grown to somthing unimaginable i think it is time. War shall be set off against our nations. Hopefully our difrences end here as 'the name kamaki shall never exsist no more. The war wont end untill the bloodshed of your clan leaves an scar.

Signed: Raiden Scaramouche

you scoffed, "And yet i never thought our hatred would end in war, How amusing. Am i right brother?" You turned to your brother as he watched you. A slight shocked look was in his eyes, but yet he still kept his poker face as usual.

"Hmph, your no fun ya know" You turned your head to see the youngest of you three, leaning against the door.

"Mingjung.."

"Huh!? How rude of you brother you speak for her but not me?" you asked Him quite pissed off.

"We shouldnt be sitting here and arguing on why Chan refuses to speak for you (name), Lets talk about this war thing with the.. Ugh.. Shoguns" she called you out as she rolled her eyes at the name of the shogun.

"I agree." Chan spoke, "Your the oldest of both of us you should have thought of something by now you know"

"If the Shoguns want war then so be it, I am most definantly not sending an apology letter." you replied.

"We'll get our men ready then, Inazuma we go"

.

.

.

"There the'll finally get off of my back" The raiden scoffed. "Kazuha,"

"Yes, your highness?" The advisor kazuha replied.

"Once the apology letter is sent by them, bring it to me imediate." He stated

"Sir Scaramouche, That is quite not possible," He started

"And you mean?" The raiden asked.

"I've known the head leader of the clan, She may seem like a beauty but when it comes to war she is bloodshed thirsty like one of the harbingers working under the tsaritsa." He continued.

"Ah, Then... War it shall be... Dont inform the Shogunate About this." He replied. Kazuha complied as he didnt want his head to be on a thorn by some childish brat.

"Those scums will learn there lesson."

.

.

.

You despised the shogunate for her selfishness the same way you despised your mother, Both yet try to acheive something non-acheivable, But there efforts made you want to laugh. Your brother and sister is something you will forever hold onto for dear life as the curse of immortality was put upon your clan. As long as you had eachother, None shall ever fall into a great deppression.

Your mother. She was Sweet as your brother described her. But lets be honest She was cruel and Craved for Infinite power, Something her and the shogunate had in common. She created you, Chan and Mingjung to acheive power. She had the thoughts of Inserting Divine power into the three of you, But the consequences was to large for that to ever happen.

Before she died she gave something to you. A gnosisi? A small chess piece the showed your connections with celestia. She said her last few words to you before the next night she was murdered.

"(Name) Once you Marry a man that will let you rule insert this Gnosis into you. Then anounce yourself as ARCHON, Then you shall Carry the name kamaki"

You scoffed, at the thought. Rule and carry the name kamaki. You sighed, It was hard having to bottle up what you felt and hide them from your siblings. Especially Mingjung. She was only 100 years old and acted like a 16 year old you had to keep things away from her because you cared.

"No,"

"What do you mean 'No' by (Name)?" your brother Chan asked.

"We have to wait for my corination, As the new ruler of inazuma will have every right to Exterminate us since were not yet royalty." You corrected him.

"Is that so? Then we shall wait, Its only a week away." He replied.

Your corrination was yet a week away, It was the day the Gnosis will be inserted into you, as your new title will be a ruler. A corrination invites royals from around teyvat, To your nation to congratulate you. You shuddered at the thought when you had to go to the inazuman Corranation for The newest ruler Raiden Scaramouche. You didnt find it enjoyable as you had to go alone, Because you were scared of the things that The new ruler would most likley do to your siblings since they werent Entitled to a royal role yet.

.

.

.

"Hmph, A Corranation for Kamaki clan?" The raiden asked. He didnt expect you, To become a ruler since you lacked a Mother and father.

"Yes, And as i recall she attended your Corranation. Even greeted you so it would be Quite rude not to go." The advisor stated.

The shogun thought about that. You did visit his corranation and yet it would be rude if he didnt attend, But then again he wouldnt care How you saw him. Thoughts after thoughts led to overthinking. The shogun had never thought he would be overthinking over somebody so they must have been Special or a threat. He was thinking about the previous archon of wars daughter so his thoughts must have been in order.

Then he thought about something The war What was he going to do about that he challanged someone who is Skilled.

"Your Highness! A letter has came in all the way from The nation of war!" The servant said

"Hmph, Is that so? bring it here." The shogun replied

The letter read.

To : Raiden Scaramouche

I am Quite suprised that our hatred would end up here. But if your thinking that i would send a letter of surrender think again, I accept your offer of war. Kindly dont get ahead of your self as My nation isnt that of war for a reason. Bless our clans with the same chance of sucsess. Hopefully we shall talk about this during my corrination.

Signed : (name) Kamaki

"Then war it shall be (Name) Kamaki" 

The rest is on wattpad<3333

"If I were you and, you were I" R. SCARAMOUCHE X READER - ㅇLoves¡ckㅇ - Wattpad

[madness-of-muses]

@vixlenxe​

“I was summoned here by an imperial letter, addressing me to meet the Grandious, His Imperial Highness, the prince. I wonder what kind of things they want with a simple ronin like me..."

Said Kazuha to the guards, showing a letter held on his hand. He was in front of the Imperial residence, confused and worried. Did this have something to do with his clan? Did the prince want to ask him to forge something in the unique Isshin style? Kazuha had no idea.

[meriyanww]

— Losing focus.

Kuni— or Scaramouche, is an assassin. Or a spy. Maybe a hitman? Who knows. He just recieves orders and carry them out. After only a day's rest from his last mission, he has to do another one. It didn't involve much physical labor so his superiors deemed it easy for him. However, Scaramouche would've preferred killing a whole organization, instead of... this. His eyes blinked at the bright lights and sparkling decorations of the banquet. It felt unreal. magical. charming. disgusting.

A kzscr royal au from my ao3 ★

— ✦✧

Kuni— or Scaramouche, is an assassin. Or a spy. Maybe a hitman? Who knows. He just recieves orders and carry them out. At the moment, I guess the title of a spy is more fitting for him. After only a day's rest from his last mission, he has to do another one. He didn't need to kill anyone this time. Just observe and get the information needed.

However, he hadn't expected to be wearing... such clothing. To gather as much information as possible, he was ordered to dress as a woman. Much to his detest, he was wearing a navy blue ball gown with sparkles at the top of his corset and off shoulder sleeves to imitate stars, accompanied by black heels (which took him a while to get used to), gloves, and a few simple jewelry. With only a small amount of makeup, he (un)surprisingly looked the part of a noble woman. Maybe it was because he had fair skin, or that he used to have long hair— which could have been useful for this mission. Unfortunately for his superiors, he had already cut it while having an identity crisis when he was younger. With a styled, long haired wig that matched his hair color, none of his assistants could recognize him. If it wasn't for his signature cold gaze and words of authority, maybe he had been flirted with by his very own attendants that feared him. It was both amazing and scary for Scara to fit the role and disguise perfectly.

Maybe his disguise was a little too good...

All eyes were on him when he entered the ballroom, his gown and astonishing looks catching every person's attention. His eyes blinked at the bright lights and sparkling decorations. It was fancy— It was the Royal family's ball, after all. He hated events like this. Bright, full of gossip, and bustling with people. But it was also a treasure trove for information.

It felt unreal. Magical. Charming. Disgusting.

When he was younger, he wished to be a part of things like these. Talking with other nobles, dancing at the center of the ballroom, relishing in the sounds of music and chatter. It was like a fairy tale. He was obsessed with fairy tales when he was young. But a single glance of the man he had become now would tell anyone that that child's dreams and imagination is long gone. Now standing, leaning against a pillar by himself, is a changed young man, eyes devoid of any innocence, with sullied hands and a cold, broken heart. Having been betrayed by both his family and friends, it was almost natural for him to end up in such an organization like the Fatui.

He was content with the life he has now. Well, not really. He just thinks that at least in the Fatui, he could be useful. There, he had a purpose. And so there, he will stay and fulfill that purpose. Just like he longed to do for his family, before he was abandoned and deemed useless. This time, he wants to succeed. He wants to prove to himself, everyone— especially his family that he was good at something. That he could've been a good knight, a good leader, a good heir. That he wasn't soft-hearted and sensitive— that he could kill.

Scaramouche closes his eyes and frowns, not bothering to listen to the flowery words being thrown at him by several men attempting to court him or at least strike a conversation. He sighs and opens back his eyes when he hears the clinking of a glass, his and others' heads turning up towards the balcony where a member of the Royal family stood. He listened to the royalty's speech, eyes straying to the Princess who was making her way to a group of noble ladies. It was time to make his move.

He walks elegantly through the hall, putting down his drink on a tray a servant was holding. He makes his entrance, grasping the fabric of his gown, crossing his feet and lowering his body. He bows before them, "Greetings, ladies." The Princess hums in interest, the other women happy by his greeting. "I am Eiko, a noble from Inazuma."

Scaramouche partakes in the ladies' conversation, telling them about his fake backstory and identity, making sure to smile once in a while. He could hear some of them whispering, their soft words being compliments, and a few other opinions. Once he gathered enough trust and information from the nobles, he excuses himself. They all insist on him to stay, but the Princess unknowingly helps him by letting him go. He enters the restroom, relaxing for a while by himself. He couldn't get pure silence, but the sounds from the ball being muffled in the bathroom stall was enough for now.

Once out of the restroom, he hears a different kind of music play. Ah, he looks around, the dancing must've started. In the spotlight was the Princess with her fiancé, performing the first dance. He leans against a pillar once more, grabbing another drink from a servant's tray as he watches. Younger him would be thrilled right now, eyes glued to two dancing beauties. However, the sight to him now felt rather... unpleasant. It was once his dream to experience such a thing, but now just imagining being in those two's shoes, imagining being the center of attention— it's sickening. Overwhelming.

The music pauses, and they stop. Everyone applauds before gathering at the center for their turn to dance. Other women around him were getting offered a dance, an extended hand for them to take. Or... for him to take. He lifts his head and scoffs, not giving the man a chance to even speak his request. "No." He opens his fan to cover half of his face, bringing his other arm to meet his elbow. He looks at the man— ruby eyes, silver hair with a lone streak at the side, coated by a familiar shade of red.

He blinks once. twice. maybe a few more times. The man keeps his hand extended to him, his smile unyielding. He sighs, "I said no." He glances to the side, eyes meeting one of the ladies' he talked to earlier. She seemed surprised and displeased by the sight before her. Scara glances back to the man in front of him. He smirks, putting his drink down, then snapping his fan shut to the palm of his other hand. "Fine."

He takes the young man's hand, a surprised look on their face. The man soon smiles again, leading Scara to join the other nobles at the center. He could see the lady's enraged expression. It seems Scara's assumption was correct. That lady had her eyes on the man whose hand he was holding now. He only took the man's hand to confirm his theory and get a bit more information.

His eyes snap back to the man beside him once he speaks. "I believe this is your first time attending the Royal family's annual ball. Is it not?"

"Correct." He follows the man to the very center. Scara didn't like the position the man chose, but he didn't want anyone else hearing him complain. He was also a bit skeptical of the man. He felt a bit familiar. Was he popular? If he was, how could Scara forget? The man speaks again, "Then have you attended any other ball?" Scara turns to face him, lifting his arms and putting a hand to his shoulder. "Yes." A lie. "The shogun rarely holds balls, so I attended in my family's stead and to interact with others. However, I don't dance." Scara has never danced before, so adding the last bit could be useful for him when the man finds his skills in this area lacking. The man places a hand on his waist and chuckles. Scara swears that this man's smile was shining. Too bright for his taste. "Then it's a pleasure to be your first dance."

The music starts and the people dance in unison. Scara focused on the dance, careful not to make any mistakes and embarrass himself. It would be humiliating, given that he had already attracted a lot of attention, and that they were dancing in the very middle of the crowd. The man notices his tension. "Relax." He assures Scara, "You'll be fine. Just follow my lead." Scara didn't expect the man's kind words, but nodded in response anyways. He tried his best not to let any more of his nervousness show. It would be troublesome for him to get found out just like that. But maybe this man's intuition was too good. He had noticed Scara's uneasiness and opted to distract him by his words instead. Just to make him feel a little better.

"I believe we haven't introduced ourselves yet. May I have the honor of knowing your name?" His words caught Scara's attention, like it was supposed to. "Eiko is my name." He says flatly, only distracted for a brief moment. He becomes alert again right after. It was a bit troublesome for the other man, but it happened to be a good thing after all. The jealous lady earlier was moving closer to them, twirling around with her partner. Scara purposefully pushed the man back a bit to try and dodge the lady, since he knew she would bump into him with their current position. However, there wasn't much space for Scara to move him and the man completely out of the lady's way without bumping into another. So, the two inevitably pass by each other a little too close. It would've been fine if it weren't for the lady pushing Scara lightly with her foot, making him stumble for a moment. The man catches him, quickly glancing over the woman behind Scara who was smiling mischievously. The woman meets the man's gaze, and she immediately becomes embarrassed. She had been caught, and so she turned her head away in shame and humiliation.

"I'm sorry," the man blurts out with a frown. "She has been troubling me for quite some time now. Are you okay?" Scara swallows a curse and instead nods his head. "I'm fine." He quickly got back on his feet and continued to dance, making sure he was following his partner's pace just fine. The man was amazed by how quickly Scara got back on track and smiled. "That's good."

Scara, however, kept his eyes open and alert— especially to that woman. The man notices and is quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, she won't be able to reach us anymore in just a moment." He smiles and Scara is confused. "Though, please don't hesitate to tell me is she troubles you again after the dance."

Scara almost rolls his eyes at his words. He's not quite used to receiving kind words, and didn't take them kindly either. On the other hand, his question on what the man's words meant would soon be answered, but left him even more confused. The surrounding people who danced around them started to distance themselves, leaving the two in the center. As Scara was just about to feel uneasy about setup, overthinking the choreography and if he had overlooked a step his instructor taught him last minute, he realized that he was in the spotlight. Shit.

This was bad. Very bad. Bad for his current mission and identity, and bad for his own well-being too. He didn't like being put on spot. The unwanted attention and judging eyes both overwhelmed and irritated him. His question from earlier was now answered. The reason why the man looked familiar— that taunting red. He was from the Kaedehara clan, a once noble and powerful clan in Inazuma that served the Royal family. It was hard to believe that he was a Kaedehara, given that the clan has been quiet for years now due to an incident caused by his own family— the same family that abandoned him. However, what confirmed him was the memory Scara had just remembered. When dancing, a nobleman that served the Royal family would dance at the very center for all the other people to recognize. It would've been the Kamisato clan or Ragnvindr clan heir in his position right now if the man he was currently dancing with wasn't a Kaedehara. He suddenly recalled the royalty's speech earlier— they mentioned something about new and old friends. Maybe the Kaedehara clan was making their entrance at this ball?

"Eiko." The man calls him. Naturally, he wouldn’t miss a chance to obtain more information and formulate his own theories. However, Scaramouche grew anxious. Distracted by his own thoughts.  His heart was beating fast, and he was slowly losing focus. He didn't even realize he was grabbing Kaedehara's hand tightly if it weren't for him speaking up and snapping him out of it. "Eiko," He calls out to him again. "Relax." Scara blinks once. twice. a few more times. He takes a deep breath, moving his gaze away from the noble's face. "Sorry." He whispers, unsure if the man even heard him. He did. He squeezes Scara's hand back, "Don't be. I should be the one apologizing for putting you in such a position. I thought you knew." A bit shamefully, Scara shakes his head. He didn't know. His eyes moved rapidly, looking at the crowd around them who were both dancing and watching, unnerved.

Kaedehara pulls Scara closer, catching his attention. "Please," he whispers to his ear, "Focus on me."

He pulls away, twirling him around. Scara looks at the noble with slightly widened eyes, as if enchanted by his words. His voice was soft, kind, yet had a slight hint of authority within it. He could tell that it was an order, disguised as comforting words. At least that's what he thinks it is. Scara doesn't why he obeys nonetheless. He glances away for a moment, not sure of what to think of that stupid face of his. Now that he was aware he was one of the nobles that served the Royal family, someone he's supposed to loathe like how he does to others, he's unsure. He unconsciously tightens his grip on the man's hand again.

"Kunikuzushi."

The name strikes him like lightning, making his eyes widen and flinch. He almost stumbles in his steps. He shifts his gaze back to Kaedehara's, then realizing he just gave him the reaction he must've wanted. Fuck. It was a mistake on his part. He shouldn't have reacted. He shouldn't have exposed himself like this. But how did he know? It was his old name, too. Not his current name, Scaramouche.

He tries to soften his gaze— in which he fails, looking down at the man's neck instead. He swallows, parting his lips to feign his confusion and innocence. Kaedehara interrupts him.

"Focus on me, Kuni."

His words this time hold much more authority than the last one. He glances back at his face, already preparing himself for the worst. Scara stays on high alert, watching for guards or any harm that might come his way. All the while he tries to figure out this man's motive for offering him a dance. He must've known his true identity, which is why he took the chance to offer him a dance in order to get him where he wanted. Fuck. Shit, shit, fuck.

Kaedehara notices the man's panic and reaction to his words. His gaze softens, apologetic. "I'm sorry," He mutters, "I didn't mean to alarm you. I was only trying to help. I noticed your uneasiness..." Scara grits his teeth, holding back all the harsh words he wishes to say. He instead scoffs, "Really, now?" The noble nods, "Yes. Please believe me. I just thought using your real name would catch your attention more..."

His words only fueled Scara's anger more. "Kunikuzishi is not my name." He shifts his gaze away from the man again, tempted to pull away and just leave at this very moment. He could already see some people in the crowd confused about their expressions while dancing. His grip tightens around the noble's hand again, and his shoulder too, this time. He hears a sigh, "I understand. I'm sorry. But please," He stops and stays still, making Scara stop in his movements too. He brings a hand to Scara's chin to make him look back at him. Scara looks at him with widened eyes, matching with the crowd. "Relax yourself. Look into my eyes, okay?" Scara knows better than to trust his words. What if he just wants to catch Scara off-guard? The other people dancing don't know whether to continue dancing or stop. However, Kaedehara grabs Scara's hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze for reassurance.

"Focus on me."

Scaramouche does not know why he obeys this time, his gaze fixed on the man in front of him. He looks at his ruby eyes— enticing and shiny. Like a real ruby.

And he wants to steal it.

He could just laugh at himself. Why was he panicking? He was Scaramouche, the Balladeer of the Fatui Harbingers. He could easily take care of this situation. Of this Kaedehara. Why was he letting his past affect his current mission?

Their eyes stare into each other, forgetting everyone else around them for a moment. Everyone's confusion turns into amazement, and they can't help but stare at the two's movements. It was far from gentle and magical, really. But can the audience really look away at such a thrilling sight? Determined but mesmerized, the two partners' expression says it all. It was as if both were fighting for dominance, not wanting to back down. But at the same time, could not get enough of the other. Scara feels strange. He feels competitive, a bit threatened by the man’s presence. Threatened? Why should he be threatened?

He focuses on the man’s eyes like he had requested, staring in that deep red. It was as bright as blood— yet it was softer, more comforting. reassuring. He does not think of anything else at the moment— he doesn't dare to. The Kaedehara, on the other hand, feels the same. He keeps his eyes on Scara's not wanting to even blink and miss a moment of his beauty.

Scara's body bends backward, the noble quickly bending forward to match. He raises his other foot slightly, revealing his black heels that were now touching the man's leg, his legs folded and bent upward. Scara's body hangs from Kaedehara's arm, both of them close to each other. They breathe, taking their time to drink up the sight of each other's face before finally standing back up and pulling away. Scara bows down, doing a curtsy. The noble smiles in response, bowing to him too. The audience applauds, eyes still on them.

Scara could feel his anxiety kick back in once hears the crowd and snaps back to reality, but chooses to ignore his slightly trembling hand to stay alert. He observes his surroundings, checking for any danger. The Kaedehara, still holding his hand, escorts him out of the center stage and smiles at the sight of a focused Scara. Once alone in a corner, he reassures him once more. "Don't worry," he brings the back of Scara's hand to his lips, kissing the fabric of his glove. "I don't intend to harm or arrest you. No one else knows of your true identity, either."

Scara pulls his hand away, a bit flustered disgusted by the act. "Tsk," He opens back his fan, covering half of his face as he observes the people near them, eyes still directed their way. "You should've told me who you were."

"Apologies." The noble bows in front of him once more, "I am Kaedehara Kazuha. It was a pleasure to have taken your first dance."

Scara gives Kazuha's smile a glare. "You know what I want, besides your stupid name." He frowns behind the fan. "How cold.." Kazuha mutters, feigning hurt. He then smiles softly once more, "I just knew from a hunch. I had seen you with your long hair before." So that's why.

"When?”

"Before you left."

Scara corrects him, "Abandoned.”

Kazuha is surprised, but Scara had expected it. Not much people knew the truth behind 'Kunikuzushi's disappearance' anyways. But it seems Kazuha already knew a part of it, or at least suspected as much. "I see. So that's how it was." He glances down, "I'm sorry."

Scara sighs, "It's not like it's your fault."

He doesn't want his pity.

"I'm also sorry." Kazuha exhales, "For earlier. You didn't take all the attention that well, I could tell. I apologize for putting you in such a position."

Scara covers his face with his fan, his eyes straying to the side. He stays quiet, lips parted to try and at least say something. He presses his lips back together, closing them. "It's fine. I could've handled it."

Kazuha knows it's a lie. He looked around behind him— he was still the center of the attention, and he knew it bothered Scara. He takes off his suit and Scara looks in confusion. Kazuha lifts the jacket up behind him, covering him and Scara to an extent. "Is this better? Or would you rather be outside in the garden?"

Scara is surprised. He does feel a bit better, not having to look at just how many eyes were on him. However, he cannot say such words. So instead, he just nods. Kazuha smiles in response, "Good." His eyes close for a moment, smiling warmly at him. "You know, I wasn't at all sure if it was you. However, you captured my interest from the very start—" He opens his eyes to an empty space in front of him. "Ah.."

Scara had sneaked away through the door leading outside near him while Kazuha wasn't looking, taking advantage of the cover his suit was providing. Being in his line of work for a while now, he could sneak away in situations like this at the very least.

Kazuha puts his suit back on, sighing with a smile as he watches the spy walk away in the garden so casually. "How unfortunate… and here I was looking forward to a proper chat."

Scara, from afar, could still see Kazuha's ruby eyes sparkling from within the banquet. The yellow tint of the glass doesn't remove the brightness the red had. He takes off his heels and tosses them to the ground, letting his feet rest for a moment. Kazuha could be seen as precious. A ruby, just like his eyes. Which is why their interaction has put Scara's fake identity in a bad position. He needs to be careful if his superiors order him to go on a similar mission again with the same fake identity. Which he suspects will happen, given how much he fit the role and disguise.

But he wouldn't say he wasn't interested in the man. After all, he was a Kaedehara. With how Kazuha treated Scara earlier though, he knows he wouldn’t tell anyone about his true identity. At least for now. Of course, he'll have to monitor him closely and be sure to not let his superiors find out that he knows. That would put both him and Kazuha in a bad position. But then again, why should he care about what happens to him?

Scara prefers to leave that question unanswered. He knew he shouldn't care. And he does not want to know why he does, even if it was just the slightest. Scara— or Kunikuzushi, rather, is afraid of the answer.

In contrast, Kazuha was excited. He thoroughly enjoyed their short conversation, their dance, and their beauty. Having known only a little about him before, he wished to get to know the boy more. Now that their paths have crossed, Kazuha wouldn't let such an opportunity pass by. Because may it be intentional or not, Scara’s presence had stolen the noble man’s ruby eyes from the very start.

— ✦✧

[royalbootlace]

sometimes they just be like that

[zushimart]

he fantasizes romantic scenarios in bed to lull himself to sleep