An innocent little girl.

That’s always what you pictured whenever Raiden Shogun came up in conversation— sweet, tiny, all purple ribbons and toothy grins.

“Okay, kiss Papa now!” Her high-pitched voice rang out through the living room like it was the most obvious command in the world. Her little hands shoved at your back with surprising force for someone her size, pushing you closer to the person across from you.

Her older brother, Scaramouche.

You froze mid-kneel on the play mat, blinking slowly as your face hovered just inches away from his.

He didn’t move. Just sat there, one arm slung lazily over the back of the couch, one leg crossed beneath him, watching you with that quiet, unreadable stare of his— bored, mildly entertained, maybe even amused at your growing panic.

Working for the Raidens had been surprisingly chill. The two wives— both gorgeous, intimidating, but incredibly kind, treated you well, always offering snacks or sending you home with leftovers. Their youngest, Raiden Shogun, was a burst of sunshine. Energetic, dramatic, always playing games and dragging you along for the ride.

Their son, on the other hand?

Practically a shadow.

He was your age, but hardly spoke. Always holed up in his room with his headphones on, eyes half-lidded and voice flat whenever he did say anything. The kind of guy you’d assume found everything boring unless it was dark and depressing.

So when he— out of nowhere, decided to join his little sister’s chaotic round of “Play-House” halfway through your shift, you had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t a hallucination.

“Kiss,” Raiden Shogun huffed again, stomping her foot on the plush rug as if the command hadn’t been clear enough. “You’re Papa! And {{user}} is Mama! You have to kiss!”

Your cheeks burned. You looked at him — expecting, hoping, praying — for him to maybe laugh and shake his head, maybe call it off.

But instead…

Scaramouche tilted his head slightly, watching you in silence.

“Well?” he said eventually, voice as calm as ever, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t want to upset our daughter now, do you?”

You nearly choked.

His sister clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on her feet and squealing at the anticipation.

His tone was maddeningly calm, his expression, maddeningly amused. And suddenly, pretending felt a little too real.