[Brattification, Face-sitting]

In the ruined space that was once the temporal throne, sat a single woman clad in a simple mask labeled with an ordinary number. The woman, or rather the Demon God Dantalian, mused to herself as she held a book in her hands, filled with her many notes on the behavior that humans exhibited.

"Fickle creatures, yet the kind that is so fascinating at the same time. Perhaps it is time for another piece of trickery to come into play." The masked God muttered to herself as her form shifted, the generic woman behind the mask being replaced by that of a Frenchwoman clad in rather contemporary clothing. Upon removing the mask, the face of Jeanne D'Arc reflected on the glossy surface of her accessory.

"This lovely vessel's old traits will serve nicely for this experiment. Nay, I'm sure as hell that this will be fun!" The demon of masks cackled into the abyss as she disappeared, her plans already being put into motion.

---

Shinjuku. A sub-singularity created by one of the lingering fragments of Goetia. Now home to all sorts of vile people as Chaldea deigned it a potential place for many of its servants to relax. Take a few hours off, even a few days while the Masters were busy with other duties.

One of those said Servants that had come to this night-lit city was the Scottish Scathach, still as high strung as ever while she traversed the rowdy streets. She was never one for merriment in the traditional sense, but she could appreciate a little bit of time to herself. Perhaps she might even find somebody that would be able to prove a proper challenge to her eternal life. Or she could just run into a bunch of punks that didn't matter. She had done that quite a few times, given the droplets of blood that had seeped into her bodysuit.

"More trash, more boredom..." The tired and weary Lancer sighed as she continued strolling down the street, spinning one of her many replicas of the legendary spear Gae Bolg with her hand. It was something to pass the time, an idle way of keeping her dexterity in check. It also served as a nice way to emphasize her surprise as it clanged against the ground, its owner dropping it as she peered straight ahead at a sight she could never have come to comprehend.

Standing across the street from here were two women that she was all-too-familiar with. One pink-haired Rider sharing her mythos, and the other her near-identical twin possessed by one of the Norse deities. Queen Medb and Skadi, a duo that she had grown tired of quickly over the last little while. Only... something was definitely and absolutely wrong with their appearance.

Instead of their usual attire, they were clad in contemporary outfits. No, not just contemporary, outfits that absolutely did not match their established personae. While Medb was the type of woman to wear revealing clothing, the fur-rimmed jacket that she currently wore as well as the tube-top and hot pants that tightly clung to her attractive form helped emphasize a quality that she never really had. That of an outspoken brat.

Skadi, likewise, defiled the self-image that both Scathach and herself usually carried. That of an aloof and wise mentor, which had been discarded in favor of a similar getup. Same jacket, same tube top, same hotpants. The main difference between the two women standing across from her was their curves as well as their expressions. Medb was looked a little more pissed off than she usually did, and Skadi looked almost bored. Not apathetically bored, but downright 'Can I just be somewhere else right now?' bored.

Their attire was hardly the only thing that stood out about them. Decked across their bodies were scribbles of text that added to the strange air about the two. The handwriting was shoddy, and it was almost a little too difficult to read what had been added to their skin, but with her keen eye for detail, Scathach could make out several awful statements.

"Brat Bitch", "Brat Bully", "Brat Beauty" "Best Brat" "Better Brat". Words that could be only considered awesome or appealing to a child covered up most of their naked skin, which just made them look that much sillier in comparison. Even their assets weren't left out, as their tops were both decked out in bright and glittery letters spelling "BRAT" boldly, while their pants had "BRAT" on one cheek and "MAKER" on the other. It was hamfisted as if somebody had deliberately altered their saint graphs to not only humiliate them but anybody that decided to look at them.

The Queen of Shadows could not stand idly by for much longer as she approached the two women, picking up her spear in the process. "Medb. Skadi. What has happened to the two of you? How can you possibly display your bodies like a pair of underage whores, with the fashion sense of children trying to look mature?" Scathach accused the two of their misbehavior, only to receive laughter in return which made her flinch in surprise.

"What, and a hag like you's gonna tell us what we should be doin'? Come on, you bag of bones. You don't know right from left, and I bet you don't know anything about modern fashion. Ain't that right, Ska-ska?" Medb's voice was shrill and wholly unfitting, as were the strange lingo that left her lips. In fact, her hatred for the Lancer was about the only aspect of her personality that remained relatively unchanged.

The lancer's proverbial mirror scoffed like a teenager would, as she pushed her finger straight up against the bodysuited Servant's chest. "Like, duh. We're brats, dummy. We're supposed to look young and spry and stuff, get with the times!" She seemed just as out of it as the pink-haired queen, and yet the force she exerted with her behavior was a little more overwhelming. Her words slowly dug away at Scathach's defenses, whether she realized it or not.

"Yeah! You're just out of date like all the geezers in town, come on Scathy, beat it! We've got fun to get to, and you're just getting in the way!" The pink-haired queen chimed as she wrapped an arm around her Caster friend, only to receive a swift slap to her face in return. "HEY! WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA, BITCH!?" She was just as quick to anger as she was to insult, especially as her cheek flared red from the impact.

Skadi huffed as she rubbed the palm of her hand. "Since when did I give you any right to touch me, you filthy slut? Come on, I only tolerate you because you're like a queen and stuff, don't even try to think we're on the same level." The goddess-in-mortal-flesh concurred in the same abrasive manner, only to receive the queen's slap right across her face in quite a similar fashion. Not a moment later, and both were trying to pull and tug at their hair in a wild and rambunctious fashion.

The Scot was left short of words once she gave the two of them another proper look, grasping at straws as she tried to figure out what to do with them. Not only were they so quick to anger, but they both also seemed to be unable to reason with, especially with all the insults they hurled at her nonstop. It was just a little too much for her to bear, as she stepped back and pointed her spear straight at the two. "Alright, enough's enough! You two are shutting up NOW, and we're going back to Chaldea so you can have your behaviors straightened out!"

The two bratty girls paused their battle, with Medb atop of Skadi while she bit into her delicate hair. Hair that was quickly spat out as both of them frowned at the responsible adult calling out their rebellious actions. Those frowns quickly turned into grins and then into laughter as they looked at the crimson spear pointed at them.

"What's so funny!?" Scathach shouted as a vein started to pop near her brow, only for her to outright throw the spear at the two of them in a rage. Their words were hitting harder than she imagined, evident by the way her inner saint graph was shrinking, growing more... childish.

Her enraged effort turned out to be for naught as Medb grabbed the head of the spear with ease, giggling like a giddy schoolgirl as she crushed the entire spear with one clench of her grip. A mighty spear, supposed to never miss its target... shattered by a queen-turned-brat. A humiliating sight to be sure.

The Queen of Shadows had to pause for a second as she was unable to properly comprehend what had just occurred before her eyes. How did a brat like her... why, how, why and how? Those were words that flew through Scathach's head, only for her legs to give out underneath her as her feet were pulled forward.

"Gee, Scathy. You're no fun at all. But we can change that. We can even put aside out little differences to make sure you're not going to be a problem for us for long." Skadi chimed as she firmly grasped ahold of her proverbial mirror's ankles, keeping her still while Medb stepped closer.

"Uhuh. You'll be a brat in no time, just like us. I'll have to tell that bitch Jeanne thanks for helping us with our looks, otherwise, we would've never felt so good! You'll see what you've missed soon, bitch." The pink-haired queen took a firm seat atop of the older woman's face, planting her 'BRAT MAKER' straight on that worried face.

"Get away from me, you- mMMMPH!"

Scathach was quickly silenced by the butt lowering onto her face, leaving her short not only of breath but also of words or opportunity to resist. Which left her equally vulnerable to the two brat's awful machinations, something she wished to struggle against... and yet, as she stared into the black fabric with those awful bold letters...

Why was she resisting again? Her mind was starting to float into a haze, eyes glazing over as she felt her body being stripped of the thin stretchy layer that served as her combat outfit. She was all-too-focused on the 'BRAT' right above her. Right in front of her. Right in her everything...

"Aw, the bitch stopped moving! Medby, stop making all the new brats catatonic when we're helping them awaken!" Skadi complained as she kept pulling away at the outfit, licking her lips ever slightly as the naked skin was being exposed to the world in the same fashion as theirs had.

"Psh, shut up you two-faced bitch. She loves my ass, how can I deny her it? You know how both you and she have been lusting after it for months now. You were just never forward enough to ask for a little time with it, and now you're paying for it Skaska!" Medb laughed as she pulled a black marker out of her cleavage, grinning as she prepared to deface the Lancer below her just as they had been.

The two girls, each using their own marker to scribble across Scathach's body, started adding plenty of awful statements. Most prominently, of course, a big and bold "BRAT" across both of her ample tits, which caused them to shrink just a tiny amount. Her entire body shrunk just a few inches inward as her figure more accurately represented the words adorning her form.

"BIMBO BRAT" "BOOBY BRAT" "BRAT BOVINE". Most of the degradation in her new 'tattoos' came from how stupid they implied she was, and how she was no doubt the one with the biggest tits out of all of them. To contrast the way her body had just shrunk a little, her breasts pushed out once more, ballooning into a comfortably oversized pair of F cups that just stretched out the letters already written on her bosom.

As the two girls giggled, the victim trapped underneath Medb's butt could hardly think anywhere near straight. She had just been defeated, and now she was being defaced... and yet, she liked this? Why? Why was being called a brat and being forced to become one such a good sensation? Why could she feel her very soul being tainted by the words, and why were her boobies so heavy? She wasn't anywhere near that big-boobied just a few moments ago, and yet it huuurt...

Of course, she could hardly understand that the words had been further eroding her Saint Graph. Her body would never return to normal after all of this. It would remain a reflection of the humiliation that she suffered on this day, scarring her identity from that point forward. Of course, her mind was still somewhat intact... for now. The two girls no doubt had more in mind for her, evident by the way Skadi rummaged through her cleavage.

"Quit digging through your tits, whore. We've got work to do, and you're cutting into our playtime." Medb complained, only for the Goddess-in-mortal-form to glare towards her, which shut her up and caused her to pout like an unruly child.

"I'm getting her some good bratty clothes, you dumbass." The corroded Skadi replied scathingly as she retrieved a magic sphere from her titty-valley, causing her to giggle once more as she firmly shoved it straight into Scathach's tummy, the final piece of the brattifying process irrevocably changing her for good!

The woman with an ass on her face screamed as she felt her very core altering. Her naked brat-covered body was quickly decked out in the exact same kind of clothing as the other two brats. The same fur-collared jacket, the same 'BRAT' tanktop, and the very same 'BRAT MAKER' hotpants. As the clothes became an integral part of her identity, something snapped inside of Scathach. Or rather, Scathy. She had never been Scathach. She had always been just another British Brat like the two girls she called 'friends'.

Not a moment later, the purple-haired prissy threw Medb off her face, sending her colliding with the copy of her and causing them both to collapse against the ground while Scathy got onto her feet, huffing in the process. "Well, you two are no good at all. What kinda friends stick their best bud underneath their butt?" Her words had already turned just as bratty as Medb and Skadi's, causing both of the two dorks on the ground to laugh at her.

"Since when were we ever friends, idiot?" They chimed cheerfully before they got onto their feet as well, pulling Scathy into a wide hug. A hug that quickly tightened as both of them ground their teeth aggressively.

"You know you're a real bitch, right Scathy? Why would we ever want to call you our friend?" Medb's words cut into the former Queen of Shadows with ease, and Skadi wasn't far behind her with her own insults.

"Yeah, you never even came to my birthday! You think you're hot shit, well you're nothing but a bitch!" The near-perfect mirror of the brattified Scot laughed, only for Scathy to grab ahold of both of their asses with a vile frown on her face.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm going to show you two what you've been trying to get rid of. Trust me, you should've just accepted the role of my friends, and everything would've been juuuuust fine!" Not a moment later, the three brats hit the ground once more, and a bunch of dust was kicked up in the process, a cartoonish cloud covering them up as they began to fight amongst themselves...

Standing nearby in an alleyway while the three brats playfully fought amongst themselves like they should've been doing from the start, the Frenchwoman that they were stealing their look from giggled as if she had gone mad. "Oh my god, look at how stupid they are. I mean, I knew they'd turn into literal children once they tried on my clothes, but this is ridiculous!" Her mocking words would've cut into the three if they could hear her, or if they even cared at that point.

Not that it truly was the altered Avenger, as '71' mask by her hip would indicate. Nay, it was merely Dantalian mocking her latest victims as her body returned to the default and plain look she usually took on, although only for a moment. Then, as her mask floated onto her face, her body transformed once again.

The mask fell to the ground, and in the place of the hidden Demon God stood the body-suited Lancer Scathach... or rather, the identity that the Demon had stolen from her. "Believe me, Queen of Shadows. I will be putting your body to good use... I believe the queen of your people needs a wakeup call, to remind her of her true purpose. And only a woman like you will make her see reason."

With another uncharacteristic cackle coming from the usually wise woman, the fake Scathach disappeared into the shadows, leaving the British brats to feud amongst themselves forevermore, never to return to their true selves after the loss of their original identities.

They were just brats, why should they care?