hellllllllloooo your writing is great. Might I request the scared reader that you did but with Scara?
ah this was such an interesting request! i went a little more along the route of Wanderer instead of Scara but if you'd like Scaramouche, when he was in his fatui phase, i can always write that as well :D
Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against ones will, implied kidnapping, implied forced Stockholm syndrome, restrictions around food and meals, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
If this was pre-erasure then Scaramouche would understand, he’s got a reputation, he’s known for things, regardless of how much he’s come to regret them. If this were post-erasure though, it would be a whole different story. He understands that while he has lost the intimidating, scary reputation he once had, he’s in turn taken on a mysterious, unknown one.
He doesn’t like that you’re scared of him, especially when there’s nothing to be afraid of. Wanderer finds himself angry and confused, he doesn’t know how to make you stop being afraid of him, he can only remember how to be feared, desperate to avoid getting hurt again. And it’s not like he can just go around asking how to make you get over your silly fears. He spends a lot of time pacing around the room he keeps you in, muttering to himself and making exaggerated hand gestures. It takes him a while to come up with a plan, one that he really thinks will work, but when he does finally have his plan together, it’s impossible to change his mind on it.
It’s not his greatest plan, hell it wasn’t even a good plan, but it was the only thing he could see actually working. It’s slow at first, barely noticeable when he starts cutting back on your meals, serving slightly smaller and smaller sections each time until it becomes too obvious to ignore. He restricts you to the single room even more so than before. No more free range of the home, no more looking out the windows or even going to the nice bathroom, now if you have to go, you use the bucket. Wanderer plans to slowly break you down until you cave, begging and crying and pleading, saying you’ll do anything for some more food, for a proper bathroom, for some sunlight.
He stands in the corner, watching as you stare at the plated meal in front of you. It could hardly be considered a proper meal, barely enough to feed a young child, it would certainly not be enough to satiate you, and he knows that. Wanderer gives you just enough to keep you from falling ill, but so little that your stomach crawls in hunger, hands clutching at your sides as you lay awake, praying for it to settle just long enough to get some sleep. He may not be a human, but he certainly understands how they work, he knows what they crave most and what depriving them of basic needs will do.
“I could get you more if you’d like.” He sees the way you stare at him, like he’d grown three more heads, and it makes a small part of his chest tingle in excitement. Wanderer can see you hesitate, wanting more but knowing the price it comes at, the tears that well in your eyes as your head hangs low, a small nod leaving you.
He’s practically vibrating in excitement when you finally give in, letting him hold you close without fighting in exchange for more food. From there it continues to escalate, no longer does he wait for you to give in, instead he slowly starts returning things to normal and being as close and affectionate with you as he desires. If you should go back to fighting and screaming again then you can expect him to remove all your ‘privileges’ again. Wanderer will repeat the process over and over again until you give in for a final time, even if it breaks you.
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So. It turns out I can't read. Have a random drabble of Mikoto + Tears because I misread one of the requests asdfds (featuring the smoking group :)) I thought of some juicy drama, but I'll admit his situation may not be as dramatic as this lol, just a thought about his emotions I was toying around with.
It had taken a bit of time, persuading, and bribery, but Mikoto reluctantly showed up to the smoking group’s next session. He looked like shit compared to them, but neither seemed to care.
Though he tried to refuse, they’d given him refills for his e-cigarette so he could participate. Shidou claimed he was quitting, but he didn’t strike Mikoto as the type to stop cold turkey. He stayed quiet most of the time, listening to the usual stories of days gone by.
Shidou asked about Kazui’s recent interrogation. Mikoto would have rather spoken about literally anything besides their situation as prisoners and murderers, but Kazui’s unlikely honesty caught his attention. The man admitted to getting rather worked up in front of Es, nearly to the point of tears.
Rather than offer any sort of comfort, Shidou chose to list off the benefits of crying in response.
“It actually releases stress hormones,” he was saying, “and has been linked to better sleep, improved immune systems, and balance within your nervous system.”
Mikoto shared a smirk with Kazui, the cigarette angling between his lips. He wasn’t as quick as he thought.
“And what is that face for?” Shidou turned to him. “I do hope you’re not one of those types who think men shouldn’t cry. I’m sure you have plenty of times. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Mikoto was going to drop it; he wasn’t one of those people, after all. Unexpected thoughts struck him before he could dismiss the accusations. The rapid emotions that flashed over his face had the others waiting for his reply.
“Actually… uh…” He let out a nervous laugh. “I just realized, I haven’t. You know, h-” Mikoto’s voice faltered. It felt strange, speaking about the situation so casually. But he could trust these men. They’d never turned against him, or flinched away from him, even when the others had. Regardless, he was going to have to acknowledge it eventually.
“...He’s the one that gets to cry.”
The others stayed silent. Kazui took another drag. It wasn’t like it was a secret anymore, but he was sure that neither had come prepared for a conversation like this. Wisps of smoke slowly circled them.
"Whenever I got upset, he was there. If anything brought me to tears, then he… took care of it.” Not that Mikoto ever knew it was happening. In hindsight, it was maddeningly obvious how his blackouts corresponded to rough times.
His breath shook the next time he inhaled. He took a pause. He had to stay calm. The line had been thin, these days, for when emotions would prove intense enough to send him over the edge. With all the underlying stress, even the most minor inconveniences could cause him to lose control.
The vapor he blew out left a trembly trail in front of him. He tried to sound lighthearted, but knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.
“I guess I always thought I was one of those guys who didn’t cry as much, or got less worked up about things. My coworkers always talked about breakdowns. I never had a single one. I didn’t really dwell on it. Why would I?” His smile was as wobbly as the laugh that bubbled out of him. “So, uh… I guess you were wrong, Shidou. I can’t remember the last time I shed a single tear.”
It didn’t take a doctor to know the kind of toll that takes on someone.
Mikoto dropped his head, suddenly ashamed of his honesty. He must have sounded completely insane. He ran a hand through his hair. They were probably looking on with horror at what a mess he’d revealed himself to be.
“I should go,” he muttered. He was already pretty upset and couldn’t risk hurting anyone else.
Shidou placed his hand gently on his arm. He didn’t look horrified in the slightest. Neither did Kazui. “Wait...”
He shrugged his arm away. “Leave me alone.”
“Mikoto.”
He paused only a moment in the entryway, as Kazui called to him.
“Thanks. I know it's not easy to talk about your true self.”
He wanted to accept it. He wanted to stay and keep talking and laughing as if nothing were wrong. He wanted to thank them for their kindness. But he couldn’t allow himself the luxury, now. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters.”
“It does.” Shidou told him. “Mikoto, I know things have been difficult. We just want to help you.”
“Yeah,” he said bitterly. The smoke shifted in his wake. “That’s what he said, too.”
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jonghyun / taemin; hot on the trail; PG
Hot on the trail of a real fine life
This could be what it means to be alive
Can't be too sure but it feels the right way
Love is infinite like sun rays
"Jonghyun?" Taemin touches Jonghyun's shoulder gently with his small hand. He's not looking at Jonghyun when Jonghyun glances at him. He points ahead at where the road curves and there's a bigger clearing before the railing, a photography spot. "Can we stop for a minute?" he asks. "Watch the sunrise?"
Jonghyun sighs through his nose, biting his lip. He doesn't really want to. Driving gives him something to focus on, something to take his mind off of his anger. But at the same time, it does sound nice. Mornings are the only time he can really appreciate the sun before it starts turning into a big ball of heat that he can't stand. And it does make him feel a little better that Taemin still wants to do this with him, even if he's angry.
A glance in Jonghyun's right side mirror shows him that the road is still clear. It also shows him that Taemin is still grumpy. Arms crossed, leg crossed over the other, frown on his lips, glaring out of his window.
Well, fine. Jonghyun is still angry too. He doesn't want to be; the last thing he ever wants is for them to be arguing, let alone for an argument to start 10 minutes before they had to leave before dawn to drive 5 hours to get to where they're going on time. But they did, and Jonghyun was right, and Taemin was wrong, so the longer Taemin stays mad, Jonghyun the longer Jonghyun is, too.
He's doing his best to tune it out, though, because they're on a windy road up through the mountains, a sheer rock wall to his side and a sharp drop to Taemin's, tall trees blocking most of the pre morning light, and he's trying to be careful. Of course, that even in itself makes it harder to stay calm, because he shouldn't be the one that has to suppress his emotions. But it's whatever. They'll talk about it later.
Another 20 minutes pass until they reach a clear spot in the trees and a long, straight stretch of road on the side of the mountain. It still drops down sharply at Taemin's right, but the railing is there, and several feet of empty dirt parking space doubles the distance between them and it. Passed it, the forest sprawls, treetops reaching just under their feet, the gray sky tinted pink as the sunrise begins.
"Jonghyun?" Taemin touches Jonghyun's shoulder gently with his small hand. He's not looking at Jonghyun when Jonghyun glances at him. He points ahead at where the road curves and there's a bigger clearing before the railing, a photography spot. "Can we stop for a minute?" he asks. "Watch the sunrise?"
Jonghyun sighs through his nose, biting his lip. He doesn't really want to. Driving gives him something to focus on, something to take his mind off of his anger. But at the same time, it does sound nice. Mornings are the only time he can really appreciate the sun before it starts turning into a big ball of heat that he can't stand. And it does make him feel a little better that Taemin still wants to do this with him, even if he's angry.
"Sure," he says, and pulls off to the side of the road when they reach the curve, easing to a stop in the dirt facing the sun. Taemin is out of his seat belt and opening his door before Jonghyun even has the car off. Rolling his eyes, Jonghyun follows, offering a hand to steady Taemin when he gets to the front of the car and Taemin is still struggling to get onto the hood.
Taemin takes it, and then keeps holding on, helping Jonghyun clamber on top and settle next to him. Hesitantly, Jonghyun settles his arm around Taemin's shoulders. Taemin stiffens, but only for a second, and then sighs and nestles in, leaning their heads together. His hands ball up and hide in his hoodie pocket. Jonghyun ignores that with another roll of his eyes.
Technically, they're not really watching the sunrise; it's already up over the horizon, pinking and oranging the sky heavily. They're just waiting for it to rise up above the cover of trees. It creeps up slowly, and every so often a bright flash of sun will come in through gaps in the leaves.
Jonghyun breathes deeply, the mountain air so cool and crisp that it almost stings his nose. The wind blows over them, making both of them tuck their jackets tighter around themselves. He finds a bird's nest in one of the trees and focuses on it, tiny sparrows fluttering around, dipping in and out, shaking all of the branches every time they land. An early butterfly flits passed and Taemin tenses up more than he has been all morning, grumbling when Jonghyun hides a grin behind his hand and squeezes his shoulder for comfort. A car rolls by behind them.
"I'm sorry," Taemin says quietly.
Jonghyun stops breathing, just for a second. Glancing to his side, Taemin still isn't looking at him. He's staring out at the horizon, but his eyes are unfocused. Jonghyun watches him open his mouth, take a breath, hesitate, open his mouth again.
"I was trying to, like, be gently pushy, but. I was just being a dick.” Finally he turns away from the sunrise, but just to push his face into Jonghyun's shoulder. "And then I got mad that you got mad, and I'm sorry."
"Thank you," Jonghyun says just as quietly. It means a lot. It really really does. He wasn't expecting this until after they got home from the thing tomorrow, at least. He doesn't apologize back because he has nothing to apologize for, but he does say, "It's hard to be me."
Taemin nods; he knows. That was the whole reason their argument started. A self deprecating comment, said honestly. Because Jonghyun truly believed it. Jonghyun continues, "And I know that. It's hard for you to." He doesn't want to say put up with, and he searches for the right way to put it. "You didn't sign up for this, when we first got together," he says eventually. Not at all. Jonghyun didn't even know he was like this himself back when they first started dating. He was too busy bottling everything up to notice that it was there. "But–"
"Neither did you," Taemin mumbles. It surprises a laugh out of Jonghyun, partly amused, partly bitter.
"I sure fucking didn't," he grins. When he popped out of the womb he sure didn't sign up for having a brain that hated him 30 something years later. But here he is. Dealing with it. Getting into arguments about it. Sitting up on the side of a mountain, watching the sunrise, holding his babe under his arm, existing with it. "I appreciate that you've always stuck with me," he tells Taemin, "even when it's frustrating and I’m being like that and you can't understand." Taemin shifts under his arm, getting comfortable, turning his face back out to the sky. "And I'm grateful that you always try to help.”
"But I need you to remember that I’m the one that knows what it's like to be me best," he says. "And when I say what you're doing isn't helping, then I know better than you whether that's true or not."
"I know," Taemin says quietly. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his cheek, his fingers into his eyes. "I was just." He sighs again, shaking his head. His mouth works as he tries to come up with excuses, as he decides not to say each one. Jonghyun knows what they are, even if he doesn't say them–it was early, he was sleepy, it scares him when Jonghyun talks like that, his instinctive need to help was louder than the voice telling him to back down for a minute and think. Jonghyun understands each one, and he appreciates that Taemin isn't trying to push them on him. He appreciates that after a minute, all Taemin says is just ‘I'm sorry,’ again.
"When we get home again," Taemin says, hesitantly, reaching over and playing with Jonghyun's jacket zipper. "Can we talk more about things that I can do to help? That won't make it worse?"
"Yeah," Jonghyun says. They can do that. He would like that a lot. They've had that conversation before, but it's one of those ever-changing conversations. Another new one wouldn't hurt. Taemin nods, cheek rubbing against his shoulder.
Conversation over, Jonghyun adjusts himself to get more comfortable on the hood of the car. He moves his hand from Taemin's shoulder to his hair, petting him, playing with it.
On the horizon, the sun finally breaks out from behind the trees. It rises slowly, brilliantly bright, sending sunrays streaming out through the leaves that warm them where they sit.
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