#neutral guest room | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ventismacchiato · 6 days ago

Text

16 stuck with you — im so obsessed with your ex !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

“It’s finally happening,” Yae sighs with a gleam in her eye, practically floating into the dorms. She sits next to Scara on the couch, her excitement palpable. “The three mystery guests are arriving! Finally, some drama!”

“I feel like there’s been enough drama,” Aether mutters.

“This will take the cake,” Yae giggles, clearly delighting in the upcoming chaos. “Trust me.”

“I think I’ll just stay here then,” Scara mutters, sinking deeper into the couch, his arms crossed tightly as he tries to resist the inevitable.

“Not so fast,” Yae says, “I need you there, especially.”

“She’s scaring me,” Yoimiya pipes up with a nervous laugh, inching her way toward the bedrooms, clearly trying to make a quick exit.

“Come on, enough chitchat,” Yae declares, standing up. She grabs Scara by the shoulder and yanks him up off the couch, practically dragging him by his feet. “I think the guests are situated.”

As you all make your way down to the beach and head toward the kitchens, you can't shake the uneasy feeling sitting in your chest. You’d known guests were going to join the main lot for the show, but no one ever told you who they could be.

“Oh my god, is that Diluc?” Lumine pipes up as Childe begins to fix his unkempt hair in response.

“Oh, hell no,” Scara mutters, his face immediately twisting with disgust as he takes one look at the scene in front of him. His instinct is to turn and leave, but Yae grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him forward, much to his annoyance.

“Is that my ex?” you say in disbelief, glancing at the table. His burgundy hair was recognizable even from how far you were standing. At the same time, everyone in Delusion turns to you, their eyes wide.

“Since when did you have an ex?” Aether asks, genuinely curious. Even Scara looks over at you now, his gaze lingering a little longer than you expected.

“Heizou and I had... a thing for a while,” you murmur, suddenly feeling awkward. “It was more of a situationship. How did you find out, Yae?”

Research, baby,” Yae says smugly, clearly enjoying this too much.

“What kind of research?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

“Xiao. We asked Xiao.”

“She loves to gossip,” Xiao adds offhandedly, giving a shrug that seems almost apologetic.

“This is great,” Yae exclaims, her eyes lighting up as if she’s already imagining the chaos. “Let’s have some jealousy arcs!”

“I need to drown, I need to drown right now,” Scara mutters in exasperation, visibly agitated. He pulls his arm away from Yae’s grasp. “Please, just let me go.”

Even you’ve never seen him that agitated around you.

“Hush, it won’t be that bad,” Yae says, pulling him along like a petulant child despite his protests. The rest of the group follows hesitantly behind.

The tension in the air thickens as the group walks into the dining area. The three figures sitting at the table come into full view. Mona is sitting nearest to the door, her posture more relaxed than you would have expected, while Heizou is across her, looking just a bit too calm for comfort.

Her eyes immediately fall on Scara, and she offers him a gentle smile. It’s sincere but carries a hint of hesitation.

“Scara,” Mona begins softly, her voice almost tender. “It’s been a long time since we’ve met, hasn’t it?”

It’s clear she’s trying to be civil, maybe even friendly, but Scara is having none of it.

“Yeah, not long enough,” Scara mutters as Yae pushes him into the chair beside her.

Meanwhile, you sit yourself next to Heizou, which is coincidentally also right across from Scara. Heizou looks as unbothered as ever, though you notice how his gaze flicks between you and Scara.

“So... long time no see,” Heizou says, speaking in a neutral tone, trying to ease the tension in the room. He flashes one of his smiles, pretending not to care about the undercurrent of discomfort between everyone. “How have things been? You know, outside of... whatever this is.”

You can’t help but chuckle at how easily you slip back into conversation with him. You can’t help but notice the way he leans just a little too close when he says that last part, like he’s testing the waters.

“Things have been fine,” you reply, your tone playful, “And you?”

“I'm doing better now,” he smiles, his eyes trailing you for a second. You feel your ears burn under his gaze.

Meanwhile, Childe, who’s been awkwardly sitting beside Diluc perks up, “Hey, uh, I like your music,” Childe says, his voice unexpectedly shy as he glances over at Diluc.

Diluc, who’s normally a man of few words, gives a rare smile, his expression softening. “Thank you,” he replies in his low, gentle voice, making Childe shift in his seat.

“So... uh, you like being an idol?” Childe continues, his words tripping over themselves in an effort to keep the conversation going.

Aether, sitting next to him, raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by the sudden shift in Childe’s usual extroverted self. “Wow, you’re really wooing him, huh?”

“Shut up!” Childe hisses, elbowing Aether in the ribs, his face flushed. “I’m trying!”

୨୧✧

The rest of breakfast goes on in a strained silence. Scara refuses to even glance at Mona, his arms crossed tightly and his eyes fixed on his plate. He’s not engaging with anyone.

On the other hand, you and Heizou are catching up, your easy back-and-forth making the tension at the table feel a little less suffocating. So much so you don’t even realize Scara’s listening in on it.

Heizou, with his usual calm smile, picked up a blueberry tart and slid it across the table toward you. “I remember you really liked these,” he said, his voice warm and casual. “So, I asked them to bring some for you.”

Scara, who had been uncharacteristically quiet all morning, suddenly spoke up. His voice was flat, and his gaze remained fixed on his plate. “Yn doesn’t like blueberries.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room fell silent. Every eye turned toward Scara, the unexpected interruption making the tension in the air feel even heavier. Scara, clearly aware of all the attention, slowly lifted his eyes, his expression unreadable.

Heizou’s polite smile didn’t falter, but there was a hint of confusion in his tone. “Yes, they do. I used to gift them to them during our trainee days, right?”

He looked at you, his eyes searching for confirmation. But you, suddenly feeling like the weight of the room was on you, couldn’t meet his gaze. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and looked down at the tart in your hands.

“Actually,” you said, sheepish, “I’m not very fond of blueberries.”

Heizou blinked, clearly surprised, and for the first time, his smile faltered. “...Oh.”

Scara, who’d been content to stay silent up until now, couldn’t help the smug grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Told you.”

“And why do you care?” Heizou asks, raising a brow at Scara.

Scara, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, looked entirely unbothered. “I don’t want to see them gag at the dinner table,” he said dryly, glancing at Heizou for the first time. “I’m already losing my appetite sitting across from you.”

The table fell silent again, the weight of Scara’s words hanging heavy in the air. You couldn’t help but notice the way Heizou’s smile tightened, as though his polite exterior was beginning to crack. He leaned back, trying to brush it off, but you could see the slight strain in his shoulders from the tension Scara’s jab had caused.

“…Whatever,” Heizou muttered, though you could tell Scara had bothered him, turning back to you. “What did you do with all the tarts I gave you then?”

“I gave them to Venti,” you admitted, still feeling a little awkward.

Venti, ever the enthusiastic one, raised his hand with a mouthful of tart. “They were good!”

For a moment, the tension in the room dissolved into awkward chuckles, but you could feel the remnants of discomfort still lingering. You couldn’t ignore seeing the flash of hurt in Heizou’s eyes upon realizing you didn’t enjoy his gifts. That man had bought you a lot of blueberry related snacks.

On the other hand, Scara seemed less tense after his squabble with Heizou.

The awkwardness lingered, but before anyone could say anything further, Mona, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold, spoke up. “Yn, I also don’t like blueberries that much.”

Scara scooped his plate forward, pushing his untouched blueberries onto Mona’s plate. Without a word, he walked out of the room, leaving a trail of silence in his wake as everyone wrapped up their breakfast.

Mona remained unfazed by the small act of defiance, simply getting up from the table and following suit.

After breakfast, Yae gathered everyone around outside with her usual enthusiastic flair. Well, gathered might be too generous a term since she practically herded you all together. She had to ask the film crew to chase down Scara who was surprisingly athletic when it came to escaping Yae’s stupid games. Well, game was a strong word for whatever this was. It was all rigged from the start, Yae wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to get you and Scara paired with your exes on live television.

"Could you at least pretend to smile?" Yae sighed, pointing to her lips in an attempt to show him as Scara leaned back, clearly not interested in playing along.

"No," Scara deadpanned, scooting further away from Mona.

“Fine, if you won’t sit by her, at least go sit by Yn,” Yae quipped, clearly amused at his indifference.

Surprisingly, Scara did exactly that, stepping over to your side. Seems he found you more tolerable than her.

Yae clapped her hands, clearly pleased with herself, and shot a thumbs-up toward the film crew. "Alright, are we all set?" she asked, the microphone in her hand now buzzing with static. "Okay, contestants!" Her voice rang out, louder than before, making everyone jump a little. "We’ll have a quick challenge to see which two couples get to go on a date at Paradise's carnival!”

She lowered the mic, cupping it with her palm and muttering, “Obviously, we need those four to win this,” gesturing at you, Scara, Heizou, and Mona. She paused before continuing with a sigh. “But I’ll get everyone else catering to make up for it.”

"I keep getting my hopes up and forgetting this is all rigged," Childe moaned dramatically from the sidelines, earning a laugh from Diluc, who patted him on the back.

Yae rolled her eyes but wasn’t fazed. She raised the mic again, her voice returning to its enthusiastic pitch. “Alright, time for a little competition to earn your prize! You guys are going to participate in a quick trivia game about each other!"

You didn’t want to win this, especially not when it involved a fake date, but it was becoming clear there was no escaping it.

The teams were set up, and you ended up paired with Heizou, while Scara was stuck with Mona. Yae started her rounds, and the questions were as ridiculous as you expected. It wasn’t a serious trivia challenge, but that didn’t make it any less awkward whenever it was your turn. Everyone else was having fun answering, unlike you. You should’ve known most of the answers about Heizou, but your mind was surprisingly blank on all the details you used to remember.

“Yn, what’s the name of Heizou’s first album?” Yae asked.

You blinked, then grimaced. “Oooh, can I get a new question?” you asked, trying to deflect.

“It’s called After Hours,” Yae instructed, her voice a little too chipper. "Just say that, and we'll move on."

You hesitated, then awkwardly repeated, “After Hours.”

“Correct!” Yae singsonged, moving on without missing a beat.

You shot Heizou with a sheepish look. “Sorry. I swear I did listen to your album... it just... slipped my mind.”

Heizou chuckled, though there was a hint of hesitation in his smile. “It’s fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t have remembered the title of yours either if I didn’t see it sitting on my shelf every day.”

You blinked, surprised. “You bought my album?”

Heizou shrugged casually. “Yeah, why? Did you not buy mine?”

You pause, “I was broke when I first debuted,” you awkwardly reply, suddenly feeling rather guilty.

“Don’t worry about it,” Heizou answers, looking the other way.

Meanwhile, Scara was making a game out of trying to tank his answers, but Yae didn’t even bat an eye. She was too busy setting up the drama.

“Now, Scara, what’s Mona’s stage name?” Yae asked, shooting him a smile.

Scara barely looked up, “Stardust?” he says with a bored tone, flicking his gaze to the ceiling like he couldn’t care less.

“Correct!” Yae cheered, almost too enthusiastically.

Lumine, sitting nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Won’t people know this is fake? It’s Astra, isn’t it?” she pipes up, “That wasn’t even close.”

Yae waved her hand dismissively. “We’ll voiceover the correct answers later. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, bonus points for anyone who gets this!” Yae announced with a sly grin. “If any of your four, apart from Scara, can answer this right, I’ll cut your awkward date short on the island.” Yae adds, looking at you, clearly not expecting you too.

“What was Scara going to originally name his debut album?” She asks, grinning.

“How the hell are we supposed to know that?” Mona muttered, glancing at you, only to be interrupted by your sudden answer.

“Meet Me at Midnight,” you said, almost instinctively, before you even realized what you’d said.

Yae’s eyes widened, a look of disappointment on her face. “That’s correct!” she gasped, then immediately slapped a hand to her forehead. “Wait, why did I bet on that one?”

Scara turned to look at you, genuinely surprised.

“How do you know that but not my debut album?” Heizou asks with a surprised laugh.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I remember because I told him it was a terrible name for an album,” you said, looking at Scara. “Now it’s just called Midnights.”

“It was an alright name,” Scara mumbles to himself.

“Sure it was.”

Yae, already over it, clapped her hands with exaggerated enthusiasm. “And that wraps up our trivia game!” She paused for dramatic effect. “The top four contestants are... Yn, Scaramouche, Mona, and Heizou!” She feigns a gasp as everyone rolls their eyes, “What a twist! You four will be off to the island soon for a double date!”

As everyone else started discussing what food to get Yae to cater, you could feel the weight of your fate hanging over you.

୨୧✧

After the game, everyone else heads back to the dorms for some free time, while the four of you are left to awkwardly prepare for your double date. You couldn’t think of anything more awkward as Yae explained how you guys would be spending the day at the carnival on Paradise. Just great.

Once everyone is gathered outside, Jean approaches with a clipboard in hand.

“So, we need to figure out if you four want to take the helicopter or the boat with the crew to the island,” Jean announces, his voice carrying her usual professional tone, unlike Yae who was having a little too much fun.

Your heart sinks at the mention of the helicopter. You try to act casual, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, but you feel your stomach knot. Scara notices the subtle change in your demeanor.

Heizou speaks up with an excited grin. “Wouldn’t the helicopter be a nicer view? Plus, it’s quicker.”

Mona, standing beside him, nods in agreement, her smile sweet and sincere. “I think the helicopter would be lovely,” she says, her eyes flicking toward Scara. It’s a small, calculated glance. You can’t help but feel a pang of discomfort.

You force yourself to keep a neutral expression, trying not to give away how uncomfortable you feel. You hate flying. The last time you were in a helicopter, you barely made it through without a panic attack. And Scara had been there to witness it. You don’t want to relive that embarrassing moment, especially not with Heizou and Mona around.

Clearing your throat, you try to sound casual, although your voice betrays you with a slight tremor. “I’ll just go on the boat, if that’s okay,” you say, not looking at anyone directly. There. Perfectly played. Totally.

Heizou gives you an amused look. “Oh? Your loss,” he says with a grin, his tone light and teasing. “The helicopter’s way more scenic.”

But then, to your surprise, Scara speaks up, his voice flat as always. “I’ll take the boat too,” he mutters, already turning away as if the conversation had never mattered to him. He starts walking toward the dock without another word.

You blink, taken aback. Mona looks at Scara in surprise, clearly expecting him to choose the faster, more fun option. But Scara just keeps walking, his footsteps heavy with disinterest. He doesn’t look back.

Jean shrugs, unfazed. “Alright then. We’ll all meet at the carnival on the other island.” She gestures for the crew to follow you two, and the tension seems to dissipate as everyone moves on to their respective transport.

You follow without saying anything, still processing Scara’s response. It wasn’t like he had to take the boat. He could’ve gone with Mona. And yet, here he was, going with you.

Once aboard the boat, the sunlight shimmers across the water, making everything feel a little more serene. The boat rocks gently beneath your feet, and you settle in, stealing glances at Scara, who’s staring out at the horizon with his usual unreadable expression. His posture, though, seems stiffer than usual.

“Thanks for coming on the boat,” you say, breaking the silence. Your voice sounds too loud against the stillness of the water, and for a moment, you regret even saying it. The awkwardness of it hangs between you like an unwanted presence.

Scara doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes stay fixed on the water, but after a few beats, he finally shrugs. “Didn’t wanna sit next to Mona,” he mutters lowly, as if the answer is self-explanatory.

“Alright,” you reply, though the simple response feels like it doesn’t quite cover the weight of the situation. But still, you can’t ignore the fact that he chose to sit with you instead of her. “But still.”

You had been disappointed when Heizou boarded the helicopter without you, but you didn’t blame him. Things had been rather awkward since breakfast, and there was no way to get around it.

Scara shifts in his seat, his eyes flicking toward the water as he says, “Whatever. It’s fine. You don’t have to thank for shit like this.” His voice is as nonchalant as ever, but you can sense there’s more to it. You don’t push it though, choosing to remain quiet, happy just to have the ground beneath your feet. After all, not dangling thousands of feet in the air is a small victory.

୨୧✧

You arrive a bit later than Heizou and Mona, who are already waiting for you both on the island, standing near the carnival entrance.

“Alright, Yae and I will be on the boat while you four go on your date, in your ears,” Jean explains, skimming through what was on her clipboard. “Just go explore the carnival together, and please, try to keep it civil.” Her gaze lingers on Heizou and Scara as she says that last part.

“Actually, I think they’re adding some good drama,” Yae whispers to Jean, her voice carrying a playful note.

“There’s a line between drama and full on fighting,” Jean sighs, clearly unamused.

Once the film crew is situated, Yae starts her spiel again, her voice ringing out through a mic.

“Alright, the winning pairs have arrived and will be having their double date here at Paradise's carnival!” Yae says enthusiastically. “You four must stick together as you explore the attractions! No running off now! Have fun!” she singsongs.

“Where to first?” Heizou hums, his eyes scanning the map board in front of you all.

“Maybe some games?” Mona suggests with a bright smile.

“Sure,” you reply, even though the idea of spending the day with your ex and Scara on a date makes your stomach twist in awkward knots. Scara, as usual, hangs back, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he follows behind the group with no real enthusiasm. You don’t blame him.

The smell of buttered popcorn and sugary cotton candy drifts through the air as you walk through the carnival. The place is mostly empty, though you suspect the company rented the space out just for you all. It’s quiet in a way that almost feels like a trap.

“This one looks fun,” you say, pointing to a ring toss game in front of you.

“Would you like to win something for your date?” The man working the booth asks Heizou, waving some rings around.

Heizou grins, catching your eye. “Sure, which plush is catching your eye, Yn?”

You glance at the display and point to a penguin plush. “I guess the penguin’s pretty cute.”

“Five tries,” the worker explains, handing Heizou the rings, “Three to win.”

Heizou takes the rings and tosses the first one, missing by a wide margin. One miss. Two miss. Three miss. Four miss. Five... another miss. Heizou manages to miss every single one, which, frankly, seems impressive in its own right. You start to wonder if the game is rigged.

Scara, who had been watching with mild amusement, can’t help but chuckle at Heizou’s pathetic attempts. Mona pats him on the back sympathetically, equally entertained.

“Sorry, Yn,” Heizou says with a sheepish grin, clearly embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” you say, rubbing him awkwardly on the shoulder.

“How about you?” The worker asks, nodding towards Scara. “Want to try and win your pretty lady something?”

“Win me the cat plush,” Mona says, folding her arms with a smirk as she glances over at Scara.

Scara rolls his eyes but takes the rings with a lazy flick of his wrist. His first throw barely makes it off his hand, landing miles away from the bottles.

“Oh no. I lost,” he says in his usual monotone voice, clearly throwing the game on purpose.

Even so, Heizou seizes the opportunity to provoke Scara. “See? You’re no better than me,” he teases, his voice light.

Scara gives him a glare as he raises his hand again. “Actually, I’ll take another round.”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. He easily lands all five rings around the bottles. The worker blinks, clearly surprised.

The man reaches for the cat plush Mona had pointed to earlier, but Scara interrupts.

“That one.” He points to the penguin plush you had chosen earlier. His voice is flat, but you wonder if he’s doing it to spite you.

Instead he grabs the penguin and tosses it over to you without a word.

“At least one of us can actually win a plush,” he says, smirking at Heizou before walking off towards the next stall. Mona sighs and follows him.

You look down at the penguin in your hands, still processing what just happened. He’d won, but he’d also given it to you.

Every game after that is a repeat of the same pattern: Heizou trying (and failing) to win, and Scara effortlessly collecting plushies. By the time you leave the stall, you’re carrying an absurdly large pile of stuffed animals. You’re forced to hand them off to one of the cameramen just to be able to walk around. You almost feel guilty, offering Mona the cat plush she’d wanted earlier.

Soon, the date devolves into nothing more than Heizou and Scara making bets with each other as you and Mona trail behind, quietly watching them one-up each other in a strange unspoken rivalry.

“Hey,” Mona says, nudging you gently. “Let’s sneak away.” She nods towards the rides you haven’t touched yet. “You were eyeing the swings.”

You look over at Heizou and Scara, who are too absorbed in their competition to notice anything else. The worker at the fishing game is giving them a look of horror as they try to fish rubber ducks out of a tiny pool.

“You know what?” you say, relieved by the chance for a break. “Yeah, let’s go.”

She grabs your hand and tugs you along toward the swings, placing the cat plush between you two as you hop onto the ride.

As the swings start to rise, you glance over at Mona. She’s screaming with excitement. You can’t help but smile at her, but the smile quickly fades as you find yourself wondering about something. What happened between her and Scara? You know the basic gist of it from what your fans post on social media and from what gossip Xiao has passed on to you, but the Mona you’re seeing now feels oddly different from the one who’d dated Scara.

The ride slows, and you look down to see Heizou and Scara finally noticing that you’ve gone missing. Scara looks up, and you and Mona wave at him as the ride speeds past.

Once you’re off the ride, you suggest grabbing some snacks before Heizou and Scara catch up.

“Chocolate churros sound good?” you ask, already feeling the weight of the strange tension between the group. Mona agrees, walking up to the food stall to ask for a few.

You find a bench to settle on as you wait, the stillness between you and Mona only slightly alleviated by the warmth of the churros.

“Thanks for dragging me away,” you say, looking over at her. “I had fun.”

“No problem,” Mona hums, her voice light as she takes a bite. “Besides, I wanted to check out the rides too. And bonus, got to make Scara upset.”

You glance down at the churros at that, having the urge to ask her about what really went down between her and Scara. But it isn’t quite your place to ask.

Your train of thought is interrupted when Mona reaches out, brushing some chocolate off your lips.

“You got something…” she murmurs, her face much closer to yours than you expected.

You blink, caught off guard by how close she’s sitting to you. She seems so casual about it, but you start to wonder if she has a different intention than just being friendly.

“Huh?” you murmur, turning towards her.

“Shh,” she whispers, her palm caressing your cheek as she pulls her hand back. “He’s watching.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Heizou and Scara making their way toward you. Scara’s gaze is unreadable, but his stare is piercing.

“Just wanted to make him jealous,” Mona smiles mischievously, her hand gently pinching your cheek.

You try to mask the surprise that rises in you as you look up at Scara. His expression remains neutral, but there’s something unsettling about the way he’s staring. Mona seems to notice too.

“Sorry for abandoning you guys,” Heizou apologizes, looking sheepish as you hand him your extra churro. “Got too caught up in competition.”

Scara says nothing. He doesn’t seem at all sorry for leaving you both. He takes the seat next to you, not Mona, who’s holding out a churro for him. His eyes flicker over to her before settling back on you.

“We should all ride something together before we leave,” you suggest, trying to shake off the tension. “How about a coaster?”

“Sure,” Heizou hums, though you can hear the hesitation in his voice.

Scara shrugs, nonchalant as always. “Whatever.”

The rest of the night drifts by in a blur of rides and laughter, though it’s hard to tell just how much fun Scara’s actually having. He never fully cracks a smile, his face as unreadable as ever, but there’s something about the way his posture relaxes just slightly on the rollercoaster that makes you think he’s enjoying it at least a little bit. Heizou, on the other hand, is the opposite and makes it known how much fun he’s having. He’s as animated as ever as he throws flirty comments your way between rides.

The weirdness from earlier fades between you and Heizou, especially as he ends up sitting next to you on every ride, his easy smile gradually putting you at ease.

But Scara? He’s hard to read. He follows along without complaint, occasionally joining in on the banter between you and Heizou, but when he’s not pulling one of his usual stony expressions he’s somewhere else. You catch him staring off into the distance as the carnival lights flicker in the fading sunset, his gaze fixed on something beyond you. It’s moments like these that make you wonder what’s really going on in that head of his. Something you never used to care about before.

Before you know it, the night sky has fully taken over, the bright carnival lights casting long shadows behind you. You pause for a moment, just long enough to breathe in the cool air, the faint smell of popcorn and sweets still lingering in the breeze.

Mona and Heizou end up walking ahead, chatting about something or the other. Meanwhile, Scara trails along beside you. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t walk ahead either. You almost feel like you should say something, if only to break the silence, but you’re not sure how to approach it.

“Thanks for the plushies, by the way,” you pipe up, the words feeling almost too casual, but you don’t know what else to say. Your hand instinctively grips one of the stuffed animals, the penguin that Scara had won for you. You’d given the rest to the crew, but you wanted to hold onto this one. The soft plush feels comforting against your palm.

Scara doesn’t immediately respond. You can feel his eyes on you for a brief second, before he looks back down at the ground, his expression unreadable. “No need,” he says in his usual flat tone, like it’s no big deal.

“Didn’t think I’d see you giving out prizes, Scara,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You try to make it sound lighthearted, but your voice catches a little on the last word. “You seemed pretty determined to win... for Mona.”

“It wasn’t for her,” he immediately says. But then, after a beat, he answers, his voice a little softer than usual, “I just didn’t want to hear Heizou gloat.”

“Besides,” he adds, eyeing the plush in your hand, “it looks better with you.” His steps slow, just slightly, and for a moment you think he’s about to say something else, but then he just keeps walking towards the dock.

You stand there for a second, a little caught off guard by his words. The air between you two feels charged. He said it so nonchalantly, like it didn’t matter, but there was something in the way he said it that made you wonder if it did.

With a small sigh, you hurry to catch up with him. As you walk alongside him, you can’t help but glance at the penguin plush in your hand, still unsure of what to make of this strange, quiet moment between you.

୨୧✧

Since you and Scara had chosen to go by boat you two had to wait a while longer for it to arrive. Mona and Heizou were already off to the island as you stood by the beach. You look over and see Scara sitting by himself.

He was sitting by the edge of the dock, legs dangling just above the water, his posture tense as he stared out at the horizon with a detached sort of focus.

You weren’t stupid, you knew he was trying to be alone. But with the way he’d been acting off all day and was now sitting out here by himself you felt your chest twist with something. Something that made you carry your feet over to him.

You hesitated for a moment, watching the way the wind tousled his hair and how he drew circles in the water with his feet.

"Scara," you called out, your voice quiet.

He didn’t respond.

You sighed, stepping closer. "Kuni," you tried again.

This time, he turned his head, his eyes flicking toward you, just enough to acknowledge your presence. He said nothing, but he scooted over on the small dock.

You hesitated for a second before taking a few steps and sitting next to him at the edge of the dock. The tension between you two was still thick and unresolved.

“So…” you began, trying to break the silence with casual ease. “It’s weird with our exes, huh?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible sigh, his eyes returning to the water. “Yeah.” His voice was flat. He was frustrated, whether it was with Mona, with Heizou, you, or himself, you couldn’t tell, but you figured it was a mix of all of it.

You watched him for a moment, then took a breath, deciding to ask something that had been nagging at you since breakfast. “How do you remember the blueberry thing?” you asked, eyes narrowed in curiosity.

Scara’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, he raised an eyebrow, as if the answer was obvious. “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

His tone was casual, but there was a sharpness to it that made your chest tighten slightly. You’d never really considered that all the times you’d argued, all those little details, would stick with him over the years.

The silence stretched between you two, and you looked down, finally noticing the cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers.

“I thought you quit,” you said, offhandedly, trying to push the knot in your chest aside.

He didn’t even glance at you. “Don’t worry, I did,” he muttered, voice as indifferent as always. “I just carry one around.” He doesn’t question how you know about him quitting.

You were unsure if you should press further, so instead you just hummed in acknowledgment. You’re about to stand up and leave when Scara’s voice breaks through the quiet once more with a question of his own.

“So, you and Heizou?” he asks.

“Yeah, a long time ago,” you say, your tone more guarded than you intended. You didn’t think he’d ever cared about it. Then again, maybe he was just being nosy, as usual.

“Why didn’t you date him?” Scara asked, his eyes still trained on the water, watching the waves as they lapped lazily at his feet. He absentmindedly twirled the cigarette between his fingers, but you could feel his attention on you. You always could.

“I don’t know," you said after a long pause, your voice quieter. Your throat tightened. You hadn’t thought about Heizou in a long time. "He switched companies, and then... I debuted." You shrugged slightly, trying to make the words sound casual. “No time, or whatever.” You hated how unconvincing that sounded, but there it was.

Scara didn’t look at you, but you could feel his gaze. Then, after a moment, he said something that made your throat tighten even more.

“You have the time now, don’t you?”

You blinked at the question. For a few seconds, you didn’t answer. Three years had passed since then. Three years of nothing. You could have found the time. You could have sent a message or tried to find him after a concert, maybe even crossed paths at some industry event. You could have tried. But instead, you were caught up in everything that had come after…you’d been occupied with Scara.

You spared a glance towards him, but he wasn’t looking at you. He never looked at you when the questions got too close to something real. He was staring at the water, still twirling the cigarette between his fingers, but there was an unreadable expression in his face.

“I was occupied, to be honest,” you said, your voice unsteady.

He scoffed, “With what? Your other ten exes I don’t know about?”

“With you.”

There was a brief, charged silence. The weight of your words hung in the air, and you didn’t even understand what you meant. He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he continued twirling the cigarette, his fingers moving mechanically. But you could feel his gaze shift towards you, sharper now. The unreadable expression on his face faltered just for a moment, but it was gone before you could place it.

Finally, he huffed out a breath, leaning back slightly, “Whatever. Not my problem,” he glances at you, “Can’t blame me for that.”

"Yeah, sure." You paused, your voice softer now, tinged with frustration and something else you couldn’t quite name, “But arguing does take up a lot of time.”

He didn’t answer right away. What was there to say? You could feel the unspoken weight of the past between you two, the years of frustration, of unspoken words.

All of the time that had slipped away, together but apart.

But instead, he just exhaled sharply, pulling himself to his feet with a lazy, practiced motion. He tucks his unlit cigarette away as he reaches his palm towards you. He hoists you up with ease, and you stumble a bit on the dock. His other arm grabs your waist to steady you before letting go, his touch lingering for a moment longer than he needed to.

“The boat’s here,” he murmurs, eyeing you.

You stare at his hand, your waist still warm from the brief contact, and then at the boat approaching in the distance. The night is settling in, the world around you dimming as the sky deepens to purple and dark blue. The quiet between you is thick, like the air before a storm, and for a moment, you can’t tell if you’re relieved or frustrated that he’s not saying anything else.

You swallow, a mix of something bitter and sweet twisting in your chest. “Yeah. Guess we should go.”

But as he walks, his pace a little faster than before, you catch the faintest of glances over his shoulder. His gaze meets yours for a fleeting second, almost like he wants to say something but stops himself.

And just like that, he’s gone, stepping onto the boat with the same indifference he always carries.

[00:00:00] GUEST INTERVIEW TAKE ONE

YAE: What's your name, my beautiful queen?

JEAN: Oh God, cut!

[00:00:03] GUEST INTERVIEW TAKE TWO

YAE: [SIGHS] What's your name?

MONA: [LAUGHS] It's Mona! You all know me.

JEAN: How has your first week on the island been?

MONA: Honestly, weird. Scaramouche has been giving me the nastiest side eye but I still want him to at least acknowledge me, and Y/N is so socially awkward it kind of hurts and—

YAE: Haha, so funny! [PAINED LAUGH] What about a good thing?

YAE: [WHISPERS] This isn't a good look for you, Mona.

MONA, STILL TALKING: - and you know, Fischl is beautiful, but how am I supposed to talk to her? I know I'm a bad bitch, but I can't fumble this one. It'll be so bad for my image and-oh, sorry, did you ask me something?

JEAN: What's... what's a good thing about your first week here. [SOUNDS PAINED]

MONA: Oh! Getting to tan. I'm so pale being inside all day as an idol, it's nice to get some sun. [SMILES]

YAE: Cut!

[00:00:00] POST DOUBLE DATE INTERVIEW

YAE: So, how are you feeling about our guests?

YN: You are an evil woman for bringing them here.

YAE: [GIGGLES] Right? I’m so good at this.

YN: Seeing Heizou was a little awkward, but I think we’re okay now?

YAE: Any sparks flying?

YN: I’m not sure, I don’t think so.

YAE: And what are your thoughts on Mona?

YN: Well, she was nice…?

YAE: [RAISES A BROW AND GESTURES FOR YOU TO CONTINUE]

YN: Well, she was nice on the date. But looking back I think she was just trying to get a reaction out of Scara [SIGHS] I still had fun though.

YAE: I see all those plushies your not date won for you [WIGGLES HER EYEBROWS SUGGESTIVELY] That was romantic, right?

YN: [WAVES HER OFF] He was just competing with Heizou!

YAE: [GROANS LOUDLY]

JEAN: Don’t mind her–

LISA: [ALSO GROANING BEHIND THE CAMERA]

YN: Archons, sorry.

YAE: Yeah, you should be. Open your eyes.

YN: They’re open I swear! [PUTS HANDS UP]

YAE: Hmph. CUT!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

btw chapter eleven is when yn mentions they don’t like blueberries, told ya it would come back (and sorry again if u actually like them, replace it with a fruit u hate)

also typo slide 27 it’s supposed to say yn weverse update

me tryna figure out how to do backstory: twitter thread! more scaramona backstory next chapter so be patient xx

i cudnt fit the written text below pic in this as much so make sure u read all the written parts!

also scara only saying his body count after yn shows interest i know what u r

pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — wow 3 updates in one month merry christmas also btl easter egg who caught that

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse @migorengeaterrr

#scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche tests #genshin smau #scaramouche genshin x reader #stuck with you smau

699 notes · View notes

rinaedin · 2 years ago

Photo

Modern Family Room - Family Room Ideas for a mid-sized, enclosed, modern family room remodel with travertine floors and beige floors

#neutral #beach #guest house #family room

0 notes

rafecameronssl4t · 4 months ago

Text

First Impressions || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: the meeting in which your parents announce your arranged marriage to Rafe.

Warnings: mention of smoking, not much else ???

Word count: 1,724

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Your black Porsche roars down the gravel drive, tires screeching as they skid to a halt just in front of the grand entrance to your family estate. The car’s abrupt stop sends a shower of tiny stones in every direction, the sound cutting through the quiet morning.

With a sigh, you push open the door and step out, the morning air crisp against your skin. Taking one last drag from your cigarette, you savour the moment before dropping it to the ground, the glowing ember snuffed out beneath the heel of your designer shoe.

A quick glance at your watch—10:20am. Twenty minutes late. You were supposed to be here on time, but the delay feels inevitable. With a flicker of annoyance, you brush a strand of hair from your face and stride toward the front door, where the familiar figure of your family’s butler awaits.

“Miss Y/n, it’s good to see you again,” he greets you with a warm smile, the lines of age deepening around his eyes. “Likewise,” you respond, managing a small smile in return. The butler steps aside and opens the door, allowing you to enter the cool, polished interior.

Your heels click sharply against the marble floor as you make your way toward the formal dining room, each step echoing in the vast, silent hall. As you approach the double doors, two servants stand ready, pulling them open to reveal the scene inside.

Your parents sit at the table, their expressions betraying nothing as they notice your arrival. Alongside them are three unfamiliar figures, their backs turned to you, leaving you momentarily confused as to who they were. You exhale softly, bracing yourself, and walk into the room.

“Pleasure to have you finally arrive,” your mother remarks, her voice edged with a tight-lipped grin. Your father doesn’t even glance your way, his attention fixed elsewhere. With a deliberate movement, you stride to the table, tossing your Lady Dior bag onto the polished surface with a loud clatter.

“The pleasure is all mine, mother,” you reply, your voice thick with restrained anger as you take your seat. Finally, your gaze falls on the three guests seated before you—the Camerons. Your eyes land on Rafe, and for a moment, you’re taken aback.

He looks different, more rugged, with his hair shaved off, giving him a harder, more defined look. His eyes, however, remain downcast, focused on the table as if he’s avoiding meeting your gaze. “My, how beautiful you have gotten, my dear,” Ward Cameron’s voice breaks through the tension, drawing your attention to him as he regards you with a smile.

You force a smile in response to Ward’s compliment, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Cameron,” you reply, keeping your tone polite but distant. The tension in the room is palpable, every gesture, every word carefully measured. Your mother’s gaze flickers between you and Rafe, a subtle hint of expectation in her eyes, while your father remains silent, his face a mask of indifference.

As you settle into your seat, the silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. You feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you, the unspoken purpose of this meeting hanging in the air like a storm cloud. The Camerons, your parents, Rafe—all of them waiting for something, though none are willing to break the silence.

Finally, your mother clears her throat, her voice cutting through the quiet. “We thought it was time for you to meet again,” she begins, her tone carefully neutral. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, and given the circumstances, we felt it was appropriate to… reconnect.”

You glance at Rafe, his eyes still fixed on the table. The last time you saw him, things were different—less complicated, less strained. But now, the distance between you feels like a chasm, impossible to bridge. You wonder if he feels it too, this cold, empty space that has grown between you.

“I suppose it’s been a long time,” you murmur, more to yourself than anyone else. The words hang in the air, unanswered, as you try to find something—anything—to say that might ease the tension. Ward shifts in his seat, his gaze settling on you with a calculating intensity.

“Rafe has been doing well,” he says, as if the words are meant to reassure you, though they have the opposite effect. “He’s matured a great deal since you last saw him.” At this, Rafe finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since you walked into the room. There’s something in his expression—an apology, perhaps, or maybe just regret—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same distant, unreadable look he’s worn since you arrived.

“And you, Miss Y/n,” Ward continues, his tone smooth, almost too smooth. “I trust you’ve been well?” You nod, forcing another smile. “Yes, quite well, thank you.” The words feel hollow, a formality that barely covers the unease simmering beneath the surface.

Your mother, sensing the need to steer the conversation, jumps in. “We’ve been discussing some… arrangements,” she says, her voice careful, as if she’s choosing each word with precision. “Given the history between our families, we thought it best to ensure that both sides are… satisfied with the outcome.”

Your heart sinks as the true purpose of this meeting becomes clear. This isn’t just a casual reunion or an attempt to reconnect old acquaintances. This is a negotiation, a transaction between two powerful families, and you and Rafe are the bargaining chips.

You glance at Rafe again, searching his face for any sign of how he feels about this, but his expression remains guarded. Whatever thoughts are running through his mind, he’s keeping them well hidden. Your father finally speaks, his voice low and authoritative.

“This is an important moment for both of our families. I trust you both understand the gravity of the situation.” The weight of his words settles over you, a cold, heavy pressure that makes it hard to breathe. You want to protest, to argue that this isn’t what you want, that it isn’t fair to either of you—but you know it would be pointless. In this world, duty and obligation come before personal desires.

Rafe’s voice cuts through your thoughts, quiet but steady. “We understand,” he says, his tone betraying nothing of what he might actually be feeling. Your mother smiles, a thin, satisfied smile. The silence in the room grows heavier as your father's words sink in, confirming what you’ve both known was coming.

This is more than just a meeting; it’s the formal beginning of the arrangement that has been hanging over you for months. The marriage. The merging of your two families. You glance at Rafe, catching the flicker of frustration in his eyes before he looks away, jaw tightening in silent protest. It’s clear he’s not happy about this, and a part of you understands his reluctance.

But for you, there’s no surprise, no anger—just a deep, overwhelming numbness. This is what your life was always meant to be: a marriage arranged for the benefit of your family, a union to produce heirs, to continue the legacy. There was never any illusion of choice.

As your mother and Ward exchange pleasantries, discussing the finer details of the arrangement, you find yourself tuning out, your gaze drifting to the large windows that overlook the manicured gardens outside. The sunlight streaming in feels distant, cold.

Rafe shifts in his seat beside you, the movement drawing your attention back to the table. His expression is tense, a mixture of resignation and barely concealed resentment. He doesn’t want this—at least, not like this—but he’s trapped in the same web of expectations that binds you.

Your father’s voice breaks through your thoughts, stern and final. “The wedding will take place in two months. The arrangements have already begun.” Two months. The words hang in the air, sealing your fate. You glance at Rafe again, hoping for some sign of how he’s processing this, but his face is unreadable, the brief glimpse of frustration now replaced by a mask of indifference.

For a moment, you wonder what he’s thinking—whether he’s angry, scared, or just as numb as you are. But you quickly push the thought aside. It doesn’t matter how either of you feel. This is what you were born for, raised for. This is your duty.

“We’ll be ready,” Rafe finally says, his voice clipped and devoid of emotion. It’s a statement of fact, not a promise, and you feel the weight of it settle over you like a shroud. Your mother nods approvingly, while Ward offers a pleased smile. “I’m sure you will be,” he replies, as if Rafe’s compliance is exactly what he expected.

The conversation shifts to practicalities—guest lists, venues, and dates—but it all feels distant to you, like watching a play from behind thick glass. You nod and smile at the appropriate moments, playing the part you’ve been trained for your entire life, but inside, there’s only emptiness. This marriage, this life, was decided long before you had a say in it.

When the meeting finally ends, and the Camerons prepare to leave, Rafe stands, his movements slow and deliberate. For a moment, his eyes meet yours, and in them, you see a flicker of something—anger, perhaps, or maybe just resignation. But just as quickly, it’s gone, replaced by the same cold detachment you’ve come to expect.

Ward clasps your father’s hand in a firm handshake. “We look forward to the wedding,” he says, his tone full of false warmth. “Likewise,” your father replies, though his eyes remain hard. As the Camerons depart, leaving you and your parents alone in the dining room, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

The future, once a distant inevitability, now looms as a stark reality—a reality you must face with Rafe by your side, whether you want to or not. The weight of it settles over you like a suffocating blanket, each breath growing heavier as the room seems to close in around you.

Your mother’s voice slices through the thick silence, her tone sharp and unforgiving. "How many times must I remind you to break that wretched habit of smoking?" Her eyes narrow in disapproval, her gaze like a blade that cuts through any pretense of warmth. You feel the familiar irritation rise within you, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at her constant nagging.

"I could smell it the moment you walked in, and I’m certain the Camerons did as well," she continues, her words dripping with disdain as she takes a deliberate sip of her drink. The crystal glass clinks against her teeth, a harsh sound that echoes in the tense air. You lower your gaze to your lap, your fingers twisting together in a futile attempt to keep your composure.

The reprimand feels like a ritual by now, one you’ve endured countless times, yet it never fails to sting. Your father’s voice cuts through the tension, sharp and unyielding. "Such behavior will not be tolerated once you're married," he declares, his tone cold and final. "Respectable young women preparing to have a family do not indulge in such habits."

His words hit you like a slap, a stark reminder of the life being imposed upon you—one where even your small rebellions are to be eradicated. Your father stands, his movements deliberate and composed as he smooths down his blazer. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his tone firm and unyielding. "Yes, Father," you reply quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper as you sit there, trying to disappear into the chair.

Your parents leave without another word, their footsteps echoing in the empty room, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence. The echo of their disapproval lingers, mixing with the cold reality of your future, a future where even your small, defiant pleasures are not your own.

You sit there for a long moment, the weight of it all pressing down on you until it feels as though you might break under the strain. But you don’t. Instead, you swallow the bitterness, pushing it deep down where it festers quietly. This is your life now, the one you were born into, the one you must live whether you want to or not.

961 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 3 months ago

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ so, you've been isekai'd into a romance novel...

type of post: blurbs characters: trey, vil, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, kissing in vil's part, lilia's is a little suggestive, I can't help myself, not proofread author's note: I've wanted to do an isekai thing for a while, and I do love a good plot twist ;3

So, you've been isekai'd into a romance novel.

The only way to get home? You have to play the part of the protagonist until the novel ends.

There's just one problem, though: you're not into the love interest.

Not at all.

What's worse: you're starting to fall for a side character.

➼ His Best Friend

You started dozing off while your friend was helping you write an essay.

It was for one of those old romance novels about rich people in the English countryside, and you couldn't stand it. You knew you were going to fail when you fell asleep in your chair, thinking that you'd just cram the next day, except...

...Instead of your room, you wake up on a picturesque hill, inside the book you'd been studying.

You hear someone shouting, and you stand. There's a boy coming towards you, yelling a name you don't-

Oh, oh no.

That's the protagonist's name. Which means that can only be-

"There you are!" Riddle Rosehearts, the love interest of the novel, storms up to you.

"Your friends have been worried sick, you know! We've been looking everywhere! You've embarrassed me in front of the entire county!"

You blink, trying to remember what your friend had told you about this book:

The shouting boy, Riddle, is the love interest. Your love interest.

But it doesn't start out the way- in the beginning, he and the protagonist cannot stand each other. He's hotheaded, strict, and has no interest in love. Over the course of the book, the protagonist teaches him to let go and enjoy life, and blah blah blah...

...Yeah, you have no interest in doing any of that. "Enemies to lovers" isn't really your cup of tea.

But if it's the only way out... you can pretend.

"I... fell asleep," you say. This only seems to make Riddle more frustrated.

"You will come back at once, and apologize to my house and to my guests. Else it'll be off with your head!"

He turns and begins marching back to the estate. You roll your eyes and follow him. You're going to have to put up with this for months?

Well... maybe not.

He leads you through the back door, not wanting to "upset the guests any further", and tells you to wait for him in the kitchen.

Great. Just great.

You watch Riddle straighten his tie and walk into the parlor to speak with the guests, prim and proper as ever. Eye roll.

The door opens- not the door to the parlor, but the one you'd just come from. You turn with a curious look.

"Oh!" another boy says. "I apologize, I wasn't... expecting anyone."

After a moment, it hits you- this is the love interest's sensible childhood friend, so unimportant in the plot that he was cut from the movie adaptation entirely.

You raise an eyebrow. "No, it's alright. Beats getting yelled at,"

He blinks, confused by your wording, and then smiles. You know you shouldn't be thinking these things, but it's sort of cute. What was his name, again?

"Ah... I suppose Riddle found you, then?"

"You suppose correctly,"

"Heh," he crosses his arms. "I apologize on his behalf. He was just... worried."

Wonderful. This is the part where he tells the protagonist about the love interest's sad backstory, isn't it?

"I don't really want to talk about him right now," you say. "Honestly, I'd rather hear more about you."

His smile falters, and he seems a little... well, taken aback. As if no one has ever asked him about himself.

"I... I suppose we haven't been properly introduced, have we?" he mutters, adjusting his glasses in nervous habit. You remember reading that. It was cute.

"My name is Trey Clover. My family owns the bakery in town, but I'm afraid it's not as glamorous as this."

He means the Rosehearts' manor. You could care less about that.

"You bake?"

"...I do," Trey says. "You eat?"

It's a stupid joke, but it makes you smile.

You nod, and he goes back outside, returning with a basket.

"These are for the guests..." he says, taking a pastry out of the basket. "...But they won't notice if one is missing."

You accept the treat. "Rulebreaker, are you?"

Trey's face flushes, but he laughs it off.

"Certainly not. Rule-breaking is a dangerous pastime in this household,"

And yet, he did it for you.

You smile back.

Suddenly, Riddle's temper isn't going to be the only difficult thing about playing this part...

➼ His Rival

With a movie adaptation on the way and a permanent spot on the bestseller's list, you had great expectations for this little book.

You'd heard nothing but praise. Even your family members had recommended it to you, saying that it was right up your alley, and they thought you'd love it.

So, finally, you buy the book (which is WAY too expensive), make yourself a warm drink, get cozy in bed, and...

And... it's terrible. It's completely unrealistic! It's downright boring!

Disappointed, you put it down, turn off the light, and try to sleep it off.

Try to, because you wake up disgruntled and groggy, and not in your bed. In fact, you're not in a bed at all.

"There you are!" a voice comes from above you.

You look to see a short, panicked lavender-haired boy. "Where have you been?! You're on in five!"

You rub your eyes. "Huh?"

"Didja hit your head or 'somethin? If we don't get you back on stage, my boss is gonna-"

"Going to what, Epel?" a colder, stronger voice carries across the hall. You both turn to see a meticulously dressed man with a stern look on him, and not a single hair out of place.

...Shit. You know where you are.

This is the romance book you'd been reading!

"S-sorry, Mr. Schoenheit," Epel says. "But it's their fault! They're the one who ran off!"

"I know that," Vil Schoenheit, the antagonist of the story, says. He narrows his eyes. "I'm not surprised our little potato has already quit. Couldn't handle the pressure, hm?"

You blink- oh, no.

You're the protagonist- the normal, nobody student who was ~randomly~ chosen to be the lead in a romantic drama, even though they've never acted a day in their lives.

"I-I just-"

"Enough of that," Vil says sternly. "Now, get up. These costumes aren't cheap, and you're dirtying yours on the floor."

He escorts you out of the hall and back onto set, Epel not far behind.

"Places!" someone shouts, and Epel nudges you into position on the sound stage.

"Remember, you don't say anything in this scene," he whispers, covering his headset mic. "Just look like you're in love. And make the kiss believable!"

Your eyes widen. "The WH-"

"Quiet on set!" the director yells, and Epel hurries away. "Action!"

You stand, dumbfounded, as the doors fly open and the book's love interest, actor Neige Leblanche, runs on set. His outfit is simple but glamorous, his eyes wide with emotion, his dark hair lightly tousled.

Horrifically, he's wearing a generous amount of lip gloss. So are you.

"My love!" he cries out, running up the steps toward you. You watch in horror as he gets closer and throws his arms around you, and just as you're about to have the dramatic, impassioned kiss the book has been leading you to, you push him off.

The director stares. Neige's eyes widen. Epel smacks his forehead.

The rest of the set is silent.

Finally, you feel a cool hand wrapping around your wrist, and suddenly, you're outside again.

"Have you lost your mind?" Vil hisses, his grip on you tightening. "You are making a fool out of all of us. You're an embarrassment to this production, and you should have never even..."

He stops, mid-rant, when he sees your eyes watering.

"...Don't you dare make me feel sorry for you,"

You sniffle, and he sighs. He pulls out a handkerchief and dabs at your eyes, careful not to smudge the stage makeup.

"You're going to ruin someone's hard work like that, you know," he murmurs. "Now, what are you crying about? Isn't this what you want?"

You shake your head. You must look absolutely miserable, because he isn't even a little mad anymore.

"...You're ridiculous," he mutters, tucking the handkerchief away with a faint smile. "But I can't say I blame you. I wouldn't want to kiss him, either."

You take a deep breath, and then return his smile. How can someone so sweet be a villain?

Vil lets the moment linger. His eyes dart to the stage doors behind you, then back to you, and then he holds your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb, and then he kisses you.

It doesn't last for long, but it's enough to leave you dazed when he pulls away.

"...Your lip gloss is smudged," he comments, and then he walks back to set without another word.

...Perhaps this book is more interesting than you'd thought.

➼ His Father

When your friend started gushing about this new dark romance book she finished, you thought she was just reading a bunch of tropes off a page.

Fae court? Handsome, mysterious, brooding princes? A tall, dark, possessive love interest? Sure.

You promise you'll try it, and she takes that as a "yes", leaving the book on your desk. It goes untouched.

You wake up in a dark forest. For a moment, you think you're still dreaming- until a thorn pricks your finger, drawing blood, and you realize this is very, very real.

You can see a medieval castle off in the distance, and to your horror, you realize where you are.

"No... this isn't happening..." you mutter to yourself.

"What isn't happening?"

You jump at the sudden noise, and turn on your heels to see someone behind you. How you missed him, you're not sure. He's pale, his hair is striped pink, and his eyes are almost glowing.

"Not from here, are you?" he says with a smile. "You must be tired. Come, Lord Malleus' home is always open to guests."

This is the weirdest stranger danger situation you've ever been in. This small gentleman has fangs.

He chuckles. "Don't let appearances fool you. We're quite hospitable!"

You think about it- you could stay in the forest, and die of a slow and agonizing death, either by starvation or mauling, or you could play the part, return to the castle, fall in love with the tall love interest, and have his babies.

...Honestly, hypothermia doesn't sound too bad.

But you also know that the book has to end eventually. And when it does, you'll get spit out. Maybe.

You're in the mood for taking chances.

The castle is just as grand and old as your friend had described it. The food is just as strange, the court just as intimidating.

Strangely, though, she never mentioned any short, pink-haired fae, apparently named Lilia Vanrouge.

"Enjoying the view, are you?" he asks, having caught you staring.

You quickly look back at your own plate. "It's just, um... well... I was wondering about your relationship to the prince,"

He winks, as if to say "nice save".

"He's... well, a foster son, of sorts. Think of it however you'd please,"

"Are you comfortable?" the prince in question asks, his eyes showing genuine concern.

You shrug. "...I guess so,"

"How does one get so lost they end up in Briar Valley, anyway?" one of his knights, Silver, asks in a soft tone.

"AND HOW CAN WE BE SURE THEY AREN'T AN ASSASSIN SENT TO HARM OUR LIEGE?!" the other, Sebek, says in a less-soft tone.

"Oh, nonsense," Lilia says. "Malleus likes them. Don't you, Malleus?"

The prince nods. Oh, brother.

"How nice. Perhaps you two should rendezvous after dinner? To get to know each other better, hm?"

You stare down Lilia, practically begging him to shut up. You want to shake him and shout "Stop trying to set me up with your weird kid!!!!!"

Sebek looks appalled at the very idea. "BUT- MASTER LILIA- THEY CANNOT BE TRUSTED! I CANNOT ALLOW THIS!"

Thank you, Sebek!!! you think.

"Yeah, um... you know, I'm kind of tired, so..." you say. "Maybe tomorrow? Or next week? Or, um, whenever. You know."

Sebek visibly relaxes at that, and Silver raises an eyebrow.

"Of course," Malleus says. "I will have the finest room arranged for you at once."

And he did. This world may be stuck in ye olde medieval fantasy times, but man, what money can't buy...

As you look around the exquisite room, you hear a knock at the door.

Lilia comes in without waiting for an answer. "Enjoying the room, I hope?"

You sigh.

"Did Malleus send you?"

He chuckles, and takes a seat on your bed. "I am his keeper, he is not mine. I just wanted to see how you were faring,"

"I'm fine," you turn back to the wall, pretending to look at a tapestry. The sight of him on your bed is... distracting, to say the least.

"Hm..." Lilia hums. "...I would like to apologize for overstepping at dinner. I did not mean to imply anything. We're rather isolated here, and Malleus has been lonely..."

It makes sense, of course. He's only looking out for his... strange, sort-of son. Still...

"And you're not?" you ask.

Lilia doesn't have a response for that. You turn around to gauge his expression, and he's smiling.

"Khee hee. You're a clever little thing. If I didn't know any better, I would think you were flirting,"

Now, it's your turn to not respond. He's caught you, and he knows it.

Your heart beats with something like excitement as he stands and closes the door.

"But I suppose I have all night to figure it out,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

690 notes · View notes

mattlauzon · 2 years ago

Photo

Bedroom Guest in Denver Large elegant guest carpeted and gray floor bedroom photo with gray walls and no fireplace

#beige and gray bedroom #beige and gray guest room #neutral bedroom ideas #dark wood bedroom furniture #gray guest room ideas

0 notes

safetypinxtales · 4 days ago

Text

Santa baby | Azriel

summary: it's nearing solstice and you have an extensive list for your mate Santa.

words: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, a bit of seduction, Azriel is stupid in love, like absolutely whipped, reader sits in Azriel's lap, feminine reader (lipgloss, hair below shoulder-length), otherwise neutrally described reader, no use of y/n, it's an AU where everything is the same except Santa is a thing.

notes: well, it's been a while but it's Christmas and I have free time for once so why not write? I whipped this one up in like an hour whilst waiting for our guests to arrive today, and it has minimal editing, but it's something light and sweet for the holidays. Hope you enjoy and merry Christmas! 🤍

masterlist

The glass is cold in your hand as you waltz into the living room. The winter sun had already set on the quaint seaside cottage you shared with Azriel. He had surprised you with it after your mating ceremony last solstice, and as you took in the shadows dancing around on the walls, cast by dim candle light, a feeling of contentedness enveloped you. The amber liquid in the glass sloshed with each step you took, but never quite enough to spill over the rim. It was a practiced routine, bringing him a drink whenever you found your mate a little too stuck in his work.

His head lifted from the paperwork he had been going over as he sensed your presence entering the living room, the hand that had been carefully turning a leaf falling slack on the armrest.

His eyes dropped down to your hips, watching them sway with every step you took, gaze fixed as if in a trance.

You let out a low hum as you reached him, extending the glass. His eyes met yours as he put the paperwork aside and accepted your offering.

Slowly – gracefully and practiced – you slid into his lap, one arm snaking its way around his shoulder. The warmth of his hands on your waist spread all the way into your chest, making your heart beat just that little bit faster.

Grabbing his face, feeling the slight stubble of his cheek under your palm, you planted your lips on his.

The kiss was soft and warm, and perfectly matched the feeling blooming in your chest has he murmured a low:

“Hello, my love.”

“Hello,” you hummed back and felt that slow tug in your chest that you had come to love so.

You gave a loving tug back and felt Azriel shudder beneath you.

Letting you gaze flit over his face, you marveled at his features.

The dark lashes framing those mesmerizing hazel eyes of his. The colour of the finest of honey, all swirling and golden.

The constellations of freckles adorning his cheeks, like a map only you were privy to read.

His lips, currently smeared in your lipgloss and stretched into a dopey smile making him look just as lovesick as you felt inside.

“Hey, Az?” You broke the warm silence that had enveloped you.

“Yes, my love?” He murmured, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly before finding their way back to yours.

You leaned in to give him another soft peck, only pulling away to rest your forehead against his.

“I have.. I’ve been thinking about something,” you whispered, feeling the breath from his curious yes? on your lips. “About what I want from Santa this year.”

He pulled back slightly at your words, eyebrows raised and that dopey smile still plastered on that pretty mouth of his. He knew as well as you that Santa meant Azriel himself.

“Oh, really? Please, do tell,” his curious hum sent you heart fluttering as you settled in further in his lap.

“Well, do you remember that dagger I liked so much when we visited summer? The gold one?” You purred and ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered as your nails lightly scratched his scalp.

“The one with the eye-sized ruby in the pommel?” You nodded. “My love, that blade is useless. You couldn’t even cut an apple with it, much less cause any real damage,” he scoffed, ”you’d be better off fighting someone with a cotton ball. That you could at least shove down their throat – hope they choke to death.”

His eyes gleamed at the gasp you let out. The soft swat you landed on his chest drawing out a quiet chuckle.

“I know it’s useless in combat, but it’s so pretty isn’t it? Besides, why would I need to fight when I have you to defend me?” You chirped with a flutter of lashes.

You just managed to catch his eyes darkening before he pulled you into yet another kiss, this time firmer. Purposeful.

Claiming.

When he pulled away his breath was heavier and his voice rougher as he swore, “I will always protect you, always defend you.”

“Even if I’m in the wrong?”

“No such thing.”

Your toes curled at his admission, and the hand that was tangled in his hair tightened its grip.

“Good answer,” you mused, and his thumbs swiped at your waist – up and down.

“What else should Santa put on his list?”

You pretended to think for a moment, pursing your lips into a glossy pout, knowing just how crazy the act drove your mate.

And just as you could have predicted, his eyes dropped down to your mouth, his smile fading slightly, his eyelids growing heavier.

“Well you know that necklace that Feyre has? That she wore on our mating ceremony?” You asked.

He nodded in response, eyes still focused on your lips.

You let your cheeks pull into a broad smile, “well I saw that the jewellery shop by the Palace of Thread and Jewels has its twin in gold.”

“The diamond necklace you kept sighing about for weeks after the ceremony? The one that had me questioning if it was the mating bond that was making you so blue?” He questioned, his voice laced with disbelief.

“That’s the one,” you replied. Removing your hand from where it was nestled against his head, you moved to push your hair over your shoulder, exposing your décolletage.

”Wouldn’t it fit me so well?” You asked, letting your hands graze the bottom of your throat, following the curve down to the top of your chest, watching his eyes track the movement with a predatory focus.

Azriel’s throat bobbed, “It would.”

Your hand fell to his arm, giving the muscle hiding under his sweater a light squeeze.

“Yeah, you really think so?” You gave him your best hopeful look, batting your eyelashes for added effect.

He simply nodded, too much of a lovestruck, mess of a male in your presence to form any actual words.

“That’s good,” you hum, “now I only have one last thing on my wish list.”

Your mate didn’t verbally respond, but you took the squeeze of his hands on your hips as a sign to keep going.

“An apartment in the city.”

That seemed to bring Azriel back to life.

“An apartment? Is the cottage I got for us not enough?” He asked with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Well, no, I love the cottage – you know that. But sometimes it would be nice to have somewhere closer to go to after having spent the evening with the others, don’t you think?”

“It takes half a second to winnow from there to here,” he deadpanned, causing you to roll your eyes.

“But I think it would be nice to stay in the city sometimes. To be able to walk home, a stroll along the Sidra,” you gave him your sweetest, most innocent smile and added, “just you and me?”

You could see his resolve melting, and felt the largeness of his hand leave your waist in favour of gently stroking your thigh.

“An apartment, huh?” His soft voice still had some reluctance hanging on to it, but you could tell he was warming up to the idea pretty quickly.

Your head bobbed up and down in confirmation, and an amused sigh left his lips.

“You must think mighty highly of yourself, dear, to think Santa would give you such special treatment,” he mused as he pulled you closer.

“Well, I just have it on a hunch that Santa might know that my wonderful, loving mate, who – if I haven’t already mentioned – loves me so,” Azriel’s eyes crinkled at the corners as you continued, “works for the high lord.”

Amusement danced in his eyes, and a soft red glow started making its way up his cheeks.

“So maybe someone like that, like me. Like the mate of the Night court spymaster, deserves to be a little spoiled.” You leaned in to kiss his jaw, and stopped to whisper in his ear, “it sure would make her happy.”

He hummed in agreement, his thumb stroking across your thigh at a slow but steady pace.

“Besides,” you continued, leaning back to look him in the eyes, “I have been such a good girl this year.”

Azriel’s administrations on you leg stopped, his large hand instead coming up to cup your face.

He hummed lowly, eyes locked on your lips, eyebrows drawn together in a pensive look.

“You really have,” he murmured.

Again, he pulled you into a kiss, molding his lips to yours. You let yourself melt into him – your wonderful, loving spymaster – into the warmth radiating from his large body. Into the secure grip of his hands and the gentle softness of his lips. You let yourself melt into your mate, with no care in the world, besides kissing him back.

When you finally pulled away you leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “if Santa is very kind to me, I promise I will be just as good next year.”

“Yeah?” His voice was thick with emotion.

“Yes, maybe even better.” You promised, and leaned back to look at him.

You cupped his jaw, the slight stubble adorning the skin scratching your hand in the most comforting way.

He shook his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Not possible.”

Want to be added to my taglist?

tags: @missussimonriley @azrielshadows1nger @anuttellaa @tele86 @aria-chikage @lilah-asteria

(since I haven't written in a while, lmk if you want to be removed)

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine

748 notes · View notes