The Joker | Scaramouche

𝟐𝟔 | 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

♥

"Aww, you did such a good job, who's a good boy, who's a good boy?" Anyone who heard the sickenly sweet voice either cringed to death or their ears bled a waterfall.

"Explain," La Signora immediately demanded an explanation when Y/n walked into the tent with a proud, loving face. Her arms wrapped around the other man's shoulders tightly and she was an inch away from kissing his cheek.

"This bitch won't get off me."

"Wipe your foul mouth before you speak." Signora glared at him. "What is going on here, Y/n?"

Y/n finally looked at her before explaining, "I was trying to look for that bastard who checked you out, and turns out I found a wild Scara instead! He punished the vermin before me and now I love him!" His heart skipped a beat. "And then we kissed in the sand and fu-"

"What she meant to say is we pissed on the land and what fun it was!" Scaramouche exclaimed with a twitching smile while covering Y/n's mouth with a hand. She licked his palm and he shivered in disgust but endured it. He knew she was going to pull some dirty move on him and anticipated it.

At this point, he wasn't even surprised at whatever Y/n did. She could do a cartwheel in the middle of the plaza while slurping ramen and he still wouldn't be surprised.

"You expect me to believe such...bullshit?"

The Fair Lady was so repulsed by Y/n's strange and down bad behavior to the point she openly cussed. She was taken aback by how drastically her dear little sister's attitude changed in an hour towards the Balladeer. Surely she wasn't seduced? Then the only other possibility is that she was poisoned. It must be a love poison, she thought.

She continued to think to herself, forming countless possibilities as Scaramouche silently pulled Y/n out of the Fatui tent. They decided to camp out in the wilderness since Inazuma didn't have any inns.

An army of Fatui Cryogunners grunted, sneakily looking at the Sixth Harbinger and the Joker's intimate public display of affection. Just holding her wrist nonviolently was enough to be considered affection in the soldiers' eyes.

"Oh my, are you taking me out on a date?" Y/n teased, glancing at his grip on her wrist. She purposely left it weak under his hand but didn't expect him to handle it much more gently than she thought he would.

"Do you want to go on a date?"

"Huh?"

His response was shocking to her ears. Never once did she imagine Scaramouche giving into her provocative suggestion and even directly acting upon it. Did she really change him to that extent?

Y/n gulped, not realizing that her heart was now at a rate she couldn't control. Her mask was melting, breaking in a way she never foresaw.

Scaramouche finally stopped under a cherry blossom tree and they were now miles away from the Fatui camping site. He turned to her, those clear indigo eyes softening. Y/n's eyes widened at the sight of him, draped in billowing dark robes as light pink petals fluttered upon him.

It was ethereal. How could she witness such a beautiful scene before her eyes, knowing that this wasn't her reality?

"You didn't answer me. Do you want to go out on a date?" he asked again with a firmer tone, a hand on his hat to make sure the breeze didn't blow it away. Y/n stared at him for a good ten seconds before tearing up.

"Are you crying?" Scaramouche was stunned at her late reaction, his hand pausing midair multiple times. He was never good at consoling others.

"No, it's the wind, you dummy," she mumbled. Her arms said otherwise as she frantically wiped her tears away from her red eyes. "It's the fucking wind, you got that?!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Scaramouche nonchalantly said, rolling his eyes. He laughed at the deja vu and your pathetically vulnerable state.

"You finally took it off."

"Took what off..." She continued to rub her eyes as an excuse to not look at him.

"Your mask. Who I see right now isn't the Joker, but you, isn't that right? It is Y/n, a weak girl scared of this world, fooling around and smiling as if everything is alright."

He took her hands in his, stopping her from rubbing her eyes. She can no longer run away or hide from her deepest fear of being exposed.

"I hate you," she choked back a cry, her bottom lip trembling.

"I know," he whispered, awkwardly letting her fall into his embrace.

The man in front of her seemed so wrong, straying from the role assigned to him, yet so right because he was exactly what she needed in this unfamiliar yet familiar world.

She gathered two fistfuls of his clothing in her hands, quietly letting out her pent-up emotions. From the start of her journey to now, she let it all out.

The afternoon sun was setting when Scaramouche sat against the tree trunk, his eyes never leaving the girl laying her head on his lap. After letting her cry for an hour, she slowly dozed off on his thighs and mumbled in her sleep.

"Scara.........."