Sparks || (Scaramouche x Reader)

*ੈ I

"My Lord!"

"What is it?" An uninterested voice asked.

"Lady Innamorata has entered the palace again...." The poor fatui diplomat answered regrettably.

Scaramouche, slammed his book shut. And rolled his eyes in annoyance. How many times would he have to deal with her?

"Where the hell is she?"

"The dining hall, my lord."

His small stature, sauntered— more like stomped aggressively. But swiftly towards the halls. And indeed he heard a few annoying cheers past the doors.

"BWAHAHAHA—"

One tick mark.

"WAIT WAIT WAIT—"

Two tick marks.

"GIVE THE POOR DIPLOMAT A BREAK AJAX—"

Third tick mark. Three strikes and he's out.

Scaramouche kicked the damned doors open. To find his annoying co-worker, and previous senior surrounded by Snezhnayan liquor.

As another fatui diplomat— Scaramouche's diplomat was being quote-on-quote, "harassed." Or power harassed by the two.

Scaramouche snatched the vodka that Tartaglia was planning on having his senior's diplomat drink.

They were kind of... drunk... well Tartaglia was only part drunk.

The girl Scaramouche came to look for, flopped on the large dining table, with a large sigh that escaped her lips.

"Ugghhhh— you party pooper!" Y/N slurred her words.

Tartaglia leaned near her shoulder.

"Killjoy." He muttered towards Scaramouche.

"RIGHT—"

Scaramouche's hat jingled like bells. Rapidly.

Due to his raged shaking, and a few electro emitting from his smaller body.

"Get out of the palace, Y/N." He ordered.

Y/N noticed him trying his absolute best to not strike lighting onto them. And she only found it entertaining.

"No. Not unless you give me a kiss Balladeer~" She teased. And she knew he wouldn't do that, letting her stay in the palace longer. As for Tartaglia, he was a laughing mess next to her.

The fatui diplomat was long gone and escaped from their clutches.

"I am not doing that. Now get out."

Y/N turned her head towards Tartaglia, who looked at her back confused.

"If I asked Ajax to do it, he would. I guess he just has a better tolerance." Of course, she actually wouldn't ask him to do that. Cause then his siblings would probably assume some things.

Scaramouche didn't like getting lower remarks than Tartaglia did. He felt inferior.

It's just a complex of his.

"For the last time. GET. OUT."

Y/N jokingly shrieked while mixed with laughs as she jumped out her seat.

Tartaglia laughed as well, as she proceeded to say. "Adios bitches" and jumped right out of the window.

Scaramouche had a hand to his forehead with his own exasperated sigh of his. And glared at Tartaglia.

"Why are you two drinking this much fucking alcohol in the middle of the day?"

"Work is draining."

"And I'm working just fine without taking alcohol breaks."

"But you like your Inazuman drinks, no? You're just a workaholic." Tartaglia waved his finger in the air. And put it back to his side before Scaramouche could snatch it, and break it.

"Who the hell keeps letting her in?"

"Nobody. She comes and goes as she pleases." Tartaglia answered while collecting the many empty bottles.

Scaramouche counted the 7 large bottles of alcohol.

"She didn't drink this much when she was a harbinger." He exclaimed.

Earning Tartaglia's interest.

"Oh? Did she only drink like 3 bottles?"

"She didn't drink at all."

Scaramouche left the dining hall. As he demanded one of the diplomats some random paperwork and stuff.

Y/N was laughing her drunk ass, as she landed on the cold grounds outside of the palace.

But her smiling face fell to a solemn one.

No matter how many times she was to be chased around by fatui, she kept coming back for random reasons. And the Tsaritsa just gave up on her.

She could tell that Y/N just misses being in the Zapolyarny Palace to report things as a harbinger. She just holds a small linger to the place.

Y/N can't stay for too long or the Tsaritsa might actually get mad for real, and maybe not be able to even get near the Snezhnayan borders.

The Tsaritsa was being lenient as of now.

Y/N was technically "exiled" from the place. Or kind of like stripped of her harbinger title and fired because she defied the Tsaritsa.

And that was a big deal. She refused to steal a gnosis for her sake. She just didn't want to. No one knew the reason.

And Scaramouche who had been in the cold room, witnessing it and saw it as implausible of her. And not a wise choice.

The Tsaritsa was already in a bad mood.

She tries to uphold a strong and strict figure, but Y/N knew she wasn't as mean as she was portraying.

She hoped so.

But guess that wasn't enough.

She publicly refused. And was publicly fired.

Y/N did not cry. Nor did she whine or plead for forgiveness under the queen's cold gaze as she was dragged out of the hall. She didn't even fight against it.

She kept her stare locked onto the Tsaritsa's eyes. Not wavering even once. And the contact was severed once the large ice walls shut in front of her face.

She didn't regret her choice. She tried not to.

But she couldn't fight the feeling of loneliness.

She ripped off her fire delusion and threw it at Pantalone's face, as he caught it one-handed. He who just so happened to be outside of the doors next to Pulcinella. Though he just happened to be passing by.

And next to Pulcinella was a 14 year old boy. The shine in his eyes were gone. Just a dark blue that stared right back into her own eyes. His ginger hair tussled.

His curious gaze searched for an answer, looking at Y/N. He could tell she was experiencing a large mix of emotions.

Y/N knew he was already a fighter. A warrior at heart. And was much stronger than he looked. She could tell that much.

Y/N pat and ruffled the boys hair, and gave him a large grin.

And only then, did his eyes sparkle like when light was shone on ice and snow. Which twinkled ever so brightly.

Maybe because that may be the last head pat he would ever receive with such a bright grin after he entered those doors with Pulcinella.