I DIDN'T SLEEP FOR TWO DAYS TO FINISH THIS. I know I'm TERRIBLY late, but Happy Birthday, Wanderer! To be honest, I drew it spontaneously without any plan, and therefore it turned out to be more difficult to implement than I had planned 🥹
Nevertheless, I am very glad that I brought the matter to an end! 😭😭😭
I really miss the soulful and deep content with ScaraLumi, so I'll probably have to take matters into my own hands, I hope I'll have the time and energy to do more, I love them very much. 😭💛🙏✨
Scaralumi/Scaraether aggressively holding hands, hugging and expressing how comfortable they are w each other in Luna VII:
AND ALSO TRAVELER TELLING HIM TO NOT KILL HIMSELF AGAIN FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT
I fear I’m never getting over them. They’ve grown so much over the years I love their relationship, whether platonic or romantic I feel like they get each other so much and I was so emotional seeing it get acknowledged THIS much. From 2020 to 2026, it’s been a wild ride. I love them so much ugh it’s unreal
Scaramouche brings an injured Lumine home, and try as he might, he can't completely hide the harrowing feeling of old wounds opening upon seeing her injured.
Part Two to this: https://www.tumblr.com/sugarnsmokerings/775195023057764352/dumbass-lumine-gets-just-a-bit-injured
But can be read on its own. c:
Swinging the door to the Teapot Abode shut with his foot, Scaramouche promptly plops Lumine onto the couch with a dull thud.
Working quickly, he swipes one of the throw pillows from the opposite end of the sofa, lifting the injured leg by the ankle and stuffing it underneath the appendage before lowering it back down. The wrappings on her lower leg now quaintly propped.
He stands up and turns away, before promptly pausing to fix her with a glare and a pointed index finger.
"Stay."
It's almost as if he were referring to a dog, but Lumine knew better than to bother to take offense. It would only encourage him afterall. Maybe that sort of behavioral training on her part would make him the dog if anyone.
With that, he marches off, disappearing down one of the many winding halls. The subtle clacking of his sandals deadening until she was left in silence. Her head slumps against the armrest with a sigh before hazarding a glance down at her blighted leg, frowning in discontent. Scaramouche hadn't actually told her how bad it was, but she could already tell it'd surely keep her out of commission for at least a full day. Both literally and figuratively. "Stupid Lawlachurl..."
Amidst her musing of misgivings, a shrill, yet familiar, screech pierces the still, artificial air, coming from the direction Scaramouche left in.
Paimon.
She was in the kitchen, presumably stress eating given the Traveler's unintentionally extended absence. And Scaramouche had also presumably told her about her injury, and knowing him... he presumably did so in a rather gaffe manner.
This theory is all but confirmed as the poor wooden door is slammed open by the shrill squealing fairy.
"TRAVELERRRRR!!!"
She zooms her way over to where they lay. Clasping her face in her little hands and looking over her with abject terror. Quite the overreaction really. She looked like she was staring right at her casket.
"Traveler, what happened?!? You told Paimon you'd be no longer than thirty minutes! Thirty. Minutes. But you were nearly two hours! Paimon waited and waited and waited and you never came back!"
Lumine's mouth scrunches in a mixture of guilt and thinly veiled annoyance. She didn't have the energy to console her with the earnestness she usually would, but she couldn't leave her there practically sobbing to herself in her worry. But as she moves to sit herself up and open her mouth, she's abruptly interrupted.
Scaramouche had followed her out, now setting a cup of hot tea on the side table next to her, a bit harsher than necessary given his annoyance, not taking his eyes off Paimon all the while. His sandals were off and so was his haori, his indigo hair largely tucked behind his ears, a few errant strands poking out all the same. He had clearly been interrupted in the midst of cooking for her. How domestic. Lumine bites back a smile.
"Archon's sake, you pixie, she's not dying. She's just a dumbass who got herself smacked around a bit too much."
Paimon's expression contorts from a brief look of relief to annoyance at his rude remarks. She fixes her slumped posture, holding her head high and crossing her arms. "Pffft. Y-yeah well... can't blame Paimon for being worried about her friend! Not that you'd understand!"
Scaramouche raises a thin brow. Oh, how he could beg to differ. Merely shaking his head, he turns to leave once more. The once whimpering companion seemingly consoled. "Yeah, whatever. Make yourself useful for once and make sure she stays seated."
And he's gone again as fast as he reappeared.
"Of course I will, but not because you told Paimon to!" She retorts haughtily even though he's practically out of earshot, coming to float besides Lumine's legs,
Lumine sighs exasperatedly before turning to Paimon. "What did he tell you?"
Paimon stiffens, her gaze sliding away from her beloved travel companion. "Paimon doesn't want to say..."
She narrows her eyes at Paimon's side profile, that's just about what she expected, albeit worried she would say. That asshole...
While Paimon eventually flutters off to go rest away her previous panic, Lumine's gaze drifts back to the steaming cup of tea he had brought her, and the occasional clink and soft clatter coming from behind the kitchen door... An asshole to be sure, though perhaps, not completely hopeless.
Gingerly propping herself up with the armrest, she takes the cup between her two hands and steadily brings it to her mouth. Chamomile. With just a taste of honey. Just how she liked it.
The kitchen door swings back open, that familiar frumpy face carrying a small, ornate ceramic tray. He strides over to her, stopping only as his knees press against her own stretched across the couch.
"Move." He states tersely, nodding towards herself currently taking up both cushions.
Lumine obliges, gingerly shifting into a sitting position, taking care to not put pressure on her wound. Scaramouche watches silently the whole time, his gaze insistent but not at all impatient before sitting down beside her. Allowing her curious gaze to survey what was atop the quaint tea tray.
In the center, a bowl of porridge was giving off a heady scent, dotted with lush green scallions and a boiled egg cut down the middle sporting a deliciously jammy center. Her personal mini teapot was to the right, presumably filled with a replacement cup of her chamomile tea, and a half drank cup of his own. And finally to the opposite of the bowl was a simple mini dish of meticulously cut berries.
Lumine hadn't been thinking much about her stomach really, for once, but she sure was now as her gazes flicks along the perfectly set serving tray. Eagerly taking it from his outstretched hands and setting it on her lap with an excited gaze to which Scaramouche rolls his eyes at. Her and her food.
"Don't cram it all down at once, that went so well for you last time." Once she's adjusted the tray adequately on her thighs and began to eat, he gently lifts her leg onto her lap. Pulling the small medical pouch he keeps on him just for her out of his pocket and setting it beside him as he gently begins to undress the original dress job he had done just well enough to subdue the bleeding.
Lumine of course, doesn't seem to care at all about his fussing, nor his concerns about her bad habits as she spoons the savory porridge into her mouth. Eager, yet still not indecorous in her mannerisms.
There's a beat of silence, only interrupted by the tugging of cloth and the clinking of cutlery. Eventually, Scaramouche is the one to break it as he stares at her bloodied skin with a pinched brow. "...You've got to be more careful." He sighs, crumpling up the soiled cloth and setting aside before pulling a roll of bandaging from his bag. The movements gentle and considerate as he cleans the area, his free hand absently rubbing the skin of her knee.
Unperturbed, Lumine nearly shrugs, still munching away without a care. "Oh, come on. I told you, it's fine! It's just a flesh wound, I've had way worse." She remarks with an edge of smugness, prideful of her exploits.
Scaramouche's expression darkens, his fingers on her knee squeezing somewhat, not taking his eyes off her leg. "I mean it."
She pauses, her exultant expression dampening at the drop in his tone. Oh. Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid. Who was she kidding? Of course he wouldn't be too lackadaisical about it, he who already lost everything he loved once, even himself. If it were to happen again, would he... She shakes that train of thought off. No, she didn't want to think about that. Not right now.
"...Sorry."
Noting the vulnerability in her tone, his lip twitches downwards imperceptibly. He shakes his head, rubbing over the same spot, even as it's free of any remaining blood. "Whatever."
Whatever? Oh no, he doesn't. She's not letting him withdraw on her now. Not after that. She sits up, leaning forward. "No, not whatever. I know what you're thinking, so why don't you talk to me?"
Another twitch. This time of the eye. But she was long past being even slightly intimidated by him. Even as he puts on that low, dangerous tone of his. The one that means, "back off." "...If you already know, then why the hell should I say it?"
Lumine's lips press into a flat line, taking a moment to think through her response. She knows she has to tread carefully here, even if her injured state is a leverage in her favor. Beneath it all, he really was still delicate to the point of potentially shattering once more. A veritable glass cannon in the flesh, with all that it entails.
"...I want to hear it from you."
...No response. Though no deflections either. That's good. So she pushes onward.
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, I know that, but you don't have to hide from me either."
She bites her lip, so far so good. Nothing was said that he could've possibly gotten defensive over. "So... why can't you tell me what's wrong?"
He finally stops scrubbing that clean spot with a sigh, his gaze pointedly down at his hand clutching the cloth.
"...Never again. And definitely not with you."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Scaramouche scoffs derisively. He's heard that before. "You better not." He uncorks a small jar of ointment, smearing it across the seam of the gash, not so much as reacting to her tiny hiss of pain at the feeling.
Still staring at his side profile, she wants to say something else, but what? He wasn't exactly an easy one to console. Closed off, yet devastatingly vulnerable. Abrasive and haughty, yet with far too much insecurity for his own good. Every reply, be it trite, heartfelt, or blunt felt ill fit. "...I do mean it. No one can get rid of me so easily."
"I know." He says. His voice has softened, but that cadence is back again, tucked in his undertone. The one trying to shake her off. And this time, she reluctantly lets him. At least she's said her piece, even if it was a heavily Scaramouche-sanctioned version, and not what she really wanted to tell him.
A slightly awkward silence falls between them as Scaramouche finishes dressing her wound up. Lumine having set the tray aside on the table, watching his gentle movements while idly sipping her tea.
How badly she wanted to get through to him. More than she already has anyways. To console his aching heart properly, rather than skirting about the glaring issue with carefully selected replies that feel more manufactured than anything adequate.
But what would he do if she did? Would he merely tell her to buzz off and leave it at that? Maybe, most likely actually, but the more grevious scenarios still kept her hesitating. She understood wholeheartedly just who and what he was, and who he's shown capable of being. Lumine makes no excuses for it, nor does she make allowances on his behalf, but it was the searing pain forcibly carved into his hollow chest that allowed himself to be led astray so virulently in the first place. That very pain that had forebode the metaphorical albatross hanging forevermore along his neck. And for that, she also doesn't make allowances.
Still, she knew better than most people that the only way out is forward, just as well as she knew the metaphorical heart racketing away inside his vacant chest.
Heart. Too much heart.
How ironic for that to be the vice card he's dealt. The quintessential tell all for where it all went wrong lay in that frail core that just wants to be loved above all else.
Scaramouche finishes up on her ankle, running his fingertips over the bandage, making certain there was not a bump or a lump out of place and retracting his grasp.
"There. Now for god's sake, be a little more careful."
Lumine smiles softly, her leg still strewn across his lap. Careful is not a word in her vocabulary, and she rarely cared to include it, but love is a thing defined by a willingness to compromise. "I will... be more careful... for your sake."
There's a quirk to his lip that she could almost swear was a suppressed smile.
"...Good. Because I'm not going to keep pampering your ass every time you decide to be an idiot."
It's a lie, and they both know it, but she's content to let him pretend she finds him so tough.
She laughs softly, gazing back at him like she couldn't believe he exists. Like a sad, little withered flower learning to bloom again.
"Then thank you for pampering me." She pauses, glancing back at the nearly empty tray beside her, a smirk finding its way onto her mouth. "...And speaking of which, I could use more tea."
He raises his brows incredulously, fighting a losing battle to look annoyed before giving up entirely. He sighs to himself, that presumed affectionate smile now on full display as he stands up. He very gently places her leg back onto the couch cushion he was sitting on like it was priceless glass, giving her head a quick ruffle as he walks by. Muttering to himself loud enough for her to overhear.
It is no secret that wanderer is a truly breathtaking being, so it comes as no surprise that people often come over, trying to weasel their way inside his pants.
Of course, by now he is already used to this behavior, so he pays no mind when yet another lady attempts to approach him.
Just because he was used to this, did not mean he enjoyed when those beings dared to think they had a chance with him.
The woman’s high pitched tone was already beginning to ring in his ears, much like that of the annoying fairy he was forced to travel with. Huffing, he was ready to send the girl away, that is until she tried to touch him.
He was not someone who appreciated being touched, especially not by some lowly human who had yet to learn her place. There was only one person he allowed to do to him as she pleased, but ironically enough, she had shown no interest of getting anywhere near him.
His instinctual response was to swat the offending limb away - or at least it would be - had someone else not gotten there before him.
One moment he had be ready to slap that hand away, the other he found himself wrapped a strong embrace, pressed flush against a petite woman’s chest.
He didn’t have to look back to know who it was, for there was only one person’s touch his body did not recoil against.
He could feel his face steadily heating up as Lumine’s head landed on his shoulder, glaring daggers at the woman as she - not so - subtly pulling him closer and closer to her, like a lioness marking her territory.
“Oh! I’m sorry… I didn’t know you were already taken.” The woman stuttered, clearly afraid of the piercing glare being thrown her way.
Much to his reluctant joy, Lumine didn’t bother denying the accusation, simply shifting her gaze from the girl to their hands joined over his waist. He silently prayed to any Archon willing to listen, that she wouldn’t be able to hear the frantic mechanical thump in chest, increasing in intensity whenever her fingers ran over knuckles, so lovingly featherlight it was almost as if she were touching a precious treasure.
The traveler din’t try to excuse herself, nor did he have the courage to question her, fearing her answer might shatter whatever little hope began to fester inside of him.
All he did was stand perfectly still, afraid that any move might scare her off.
But… she didn’t leave.
She stood there with him until his legs began to tire, and even then, when they trailed the same route back home her hands did not leave his.
He could only hope that meant as much to her as it did to him.
a muggleborn student coming to hogwarts with a thermos flask and filling it with tea in the morning so it stays hot all day and their pureblood friends are like “whoa what spell did you use for that” and they’re like “?????? it’s just a thermos???” and all the pureblood students start pointing their wands at cups and saying “THERMOS”
plot twist: it works, mugs suddenly start keeping tea at the perfect temperature for the caster all day. students in muggle studies start experimenting with other muggle jargon and a new generation of magic spells are born, propelling the stagnated wizard community into the technological age
when a child with chronic or terminal illness or a disability/their sibling is well informed about the condition strangers love to say "no child should have to know that 😢" yeah well i think the world would be significantly better if more children knew about that actually. teach your healthy kids about illness teach your abled kids about disability Please !
and people will say this about the stupidest shit of all time. a diabetic child is like "this is my glucose monitor! these are my ketone test strips!" and people are aghast "no baby should have to know about this!!!!" okay so youd rather his mom just poked and tested him and injected insulin and collected his urine without explanation? you genuinely would prefer this child live in fear and ignorance about the daily routines of his life? because like no amount of pouty faces and prayers and condescending instagram comments are going to remove the illness from the child's life so our options are being informed about our bodies or being confused/frightened by them.
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