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vi0let-writes · 10 days ago

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Categorically Yours⎯ ♡

⎯05. OMG...XIAO???

Note: Take a deep breath and prepare for what's about to unfold. Also updating two days in a row is crazy work

Word count: ~1000

You’re happy that Hu Tao isn’t sick anymore, you really are. But if she says one more time how amazing it was to not go to classes and instead eat Xiangling’s delicious food under a pile of blankets while you were having a crisis with your brain being melted by the philosophy professor’s voice, you might actually lose it. Not even factoring in that you absolutely embarrassed yourself in front of another student. Great. Really.

Usually, attendance drops after the first lecture, but you doubt that’s going to happen in philosophy ⎯ no presentation slides, after all. As the two of you enter the lecture hall, your suspicions get confirmed. It’s just as full as during the first class.

You let out an irritated sigh, something you seem to do a lot in philosophy. Then you turn to your friend and lightly tug on her sleeve to get her attention.

“So�� where do you wanna sit⎯”

She barely hears you though, not even looking in your direction. She stares off somewhere into the distance. Maybe she’s still a bit under the weather? As you open your mouth to check on her like any good friend would, she speaks up.

“Oh my god… XIAO??”

And…. she’s gone. Well. Not gone but bolted across the room to talk to some guy with turquoise streaks in his dark hair. He’s dressed in all black, with silver jewelry ⎯kinda emo, like he’s here purely for the incoming nihilism lessons.

You quickly follow after her.

“Hu Tao what the⎯“

Too late. She’s mid-conversation, then turns back to you like nothing happened. “Yn!! This is my childhood friend, Xiao!”

She energetically slaps his back. He nearly stumbles forward, no energy in his body or soul whatsoever. At least he doesn’t look uncomfortable, just guarded. But then again, that’s just the kind of expression you would expect from someone so… edgy looking.

He then speaks, flat voice, barely a flicker of expression.

“Nice to meet you.” Yeah. He definitely means it.

“Nice to meet you too”, you reply politely. You hope yours sounds more genuine than his. You don’t have a lot of time to worry about that though, since something else catches your eyes as you look over his shoulder.

…Oh no. FUCK. It’s him. The guy from last lecture. Standing right there.

You internally panic. What is that guy doing here??? Well, obviously attending the lecture, but why is he right here with Hu Tao’s childhood friend??? You pray to all the gods out there that he doesn’t notice you, the embarrassment would totally⎯

“That’s my friend, Scara.” FUCK. Xiao noticed your line of sight and gestured towards the guy from last lecture⎯ Scara apparently. And of course, he now looks at you. The smallest rise in the corner of his mouth, but not quite a smile. It’s like he’s trying not to have one.

Like he remembers you. Like he’s maybe a little amused.

You avoid his gaze. This was already too much for you and the lecture hasn’t even started.

Hu Tao pipes up. “Xiao, we should totally catch up!!”

And for once you’re so glad for Hu Tao’s sociableness. Not that you usually mind it. Sadly, before she can spiral into a full conversation, the lecture starts. Hu Tao sits down, Xiao beside her, listening to whatever she’s talking about. His friend takes the seat next to him. Which leaves… you at the very end. Next to Scara.

The professor starts rambling again and you pull out your notebook. Strictly taking notes. Nothing else. Your eyes don’t dare to leave the page. You’re not risking a glance at Scara, no way. Hu Tao’s not even pretending to pay attention— too busy “catching up”.

She’s not even aware of who’s sitting next to you, so you shoot her a text.

She eyes you from the other side of the row, a dangerous look on her face. She’s scheming. Hopefully she’ll forget whatever she’s plotting before the lecture ends. You have good chances, considering she’s passionately talking to Xiao and listening to the lecture half-heartedly.

You return to focus too, eyes back on the paper. Until something slides onto your desk.

It’s a piece of paper.

A note.

From him???

The two of you switch seats. Ah. Hu Tao and Xiao’s endless talking is a bit distracting when you’re sitting right next to them. You can hear her loud and clearly, going on and on about her friend Xiangling's cooking being soooo good and about her small business of selling bedazzled coffins, about anything to not think about the lecture, really.

In the corner of your eye you see Scara think for a second before adding something to the note. Chatty much.

As hard as it is to focus, the two of you fall back into listening to the professor. You keep taking notes, trying to make sense of the professors rambling. He, of course, doesn't. Though it looks like he's not particularly struggling, from what you catch with your⎯ hopefully subtle⎯ glances.

After class Hu Tao waves you over, her face at least a bit apologetic. She fiddles with her sleeve a bit before just bluntly asking what she needs.

“Girl, can you send me your notes again?” You sigh, but nod. This was already expected; you'll probably send her your notes every lecture since she has the work ethic of a kindergardener. She's the kind of student that needs an academic miracle, really.

The word 'notes' seemed to spark a bit of life into Xiao's expression. You might've confused him with a zombie if it wasn't for that. “You took notes?”

Right. He wasn't listening to the professor either. “Yeah?”

“Can I have yours from last lecture? Scara didn’t take any and I wasn’t there…”

What are you??? A charity? A slave? Whatever. Sure. You nod again, this time a bit more exasperated, though you try to suppress your displeased expression.

As Scara packs up his stuff, Hu Tao looks at you mischievously, she’s totally up to something. Your pure, generous heart, sharing your notes⎯ does that mean nothing to her? Your unending kindness in aiding her desperate (emo) friend in need⎯

“Yo Scara you should totally give yn your number so that she’ll stop bothering me about philo!!”

you freeze. what.

“sure.”

WHAT.

previous masterlist next

summary⎯ It starts with a note in philosophy lecture. They sit together once, then again. Now they’re texting, sharing notes, and maybe something else they won’t admit. Minor in philosophy, major in denial.

Taglist (comment or send ask if you wanna be added)

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vi0let-writes · 13 days ago

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| secrets⠀ ⠀we⠀ ⠀keep !

a kaedehara kazuha x reader smau

CHAPTER 1 - IT WAS ONLY ONE TIME !

| MASTERLIST | ⠀ ◞ ⠀ | NEXT |

SYNOPSIS Chaos, Love, and Secrets. At Tavyet University, you struggled to make decisions about your future, but it wasn't the only problem. At the same university, your childhood best friend, who vanished, has since been recognized as the president of the student council. He asks you for a big favor after his dishonesty almost cost him his reputation one day.

note(s): omigosh it took me awhile to reorder everything and make sure it's not misplaced 💔 had to pull out my hello kitty mouse to belp because the touchpad on my laptop sucks so much.

funfact: students at the university occasionally make tweets about people who get rejected by kazuha (bonding over pain). this is just for the intro it wont happen again because i think it might get old🏃

TAGLIST ! @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @meigalaxy @lizbix @trulyylee @jayzioxx @avalordream @danhenglovebot @bubblebellaz @liaiiy @a-sorrowful-tune @anqelkoz @ilovecats-26 @lalalaloveallmydays @luvlockettt @damnednerd @kidsnipe

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vi0let-writes · 29 days ago

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guys my age ━━━ sakusa kiyoomi

07. the msby black jackals ♡

Somehow managing to balance two bento boxes on top of your wide-rimmed ring binders, you make your way down the corridor and towards the gymnasium. At first, all you can hear is the sound of your Docs squeaking against the tiled flooring and your ragged breathing from the anxiety. Butterflies- no, that sounds too nice... Hurricanes fill your stomach, feeling as if you could be sick from all the movement going on inside.

The closer you get to the gym, the more clearly you can hear what's going on inside. You can hear a lot of shouting, though you can't quite make out what's being said, coming from the other side of the blue double doors before you. You take in a deep breath to prepare yourself, before pushing them open and making your entrance.

You scan over the room in search of your pretend boyfriend, spotting him standing on the right half of the court. He runs forward and jumps, your eyes growing wide at the amount of force he puts into hitting the ball. Someone you haven't met yet on the other side of the court fails to catch it, a whistle blowing for the end of the round.

"It's l/n!" The sound of your name catches your attention, seeing Hinata racing towards you with a wide smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm just bringing Kiyoomi his lunch," you answer, carefully moving your arms to flash him the bento box. "If you guys are in the middle of practice I can drop this and run."

"Nah, we're about to take a break anyway!" You turn to your side, watching Sakusa trying to overtake Miya from reaching you first. Miya blocks his path, Sakusa withholding his scoff. "What's in the folder?"

Sakusa takes both of the boxes from your folder, falling into place by your side and assessing the contents of his lunch. You flash the front of your folder to his teammates, Bokuto now also standing with you. "It's my school work. I have an assignment I need to work on, so this thing's coming everywhere with me."

Bokuto cocks his head. "School work?" He looks at Sakusa. "How old is she?"

"She's twenty," Sakusa answers, narrowing his eyes at Miya when he catches the smirk growing on his face. "What?" Miya shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

You give an awkward smile. "It's true. I can show you my ID, if you like? I'm in university, just starting my second year. I'm a psychology major. I have a lecture in an hour that I really don’t want to have to go to because the professor is obsessed with old movies I’ve never seen, and is also very misogynistic and a bit of a pervert. But I ignore it because I love psychology, so I just keep my head down and focus on my work.”

“Have you put in a complaint against him?” Bokuto asks, leaning forward with one arm on Miya’s shoulder and a hand on Hinata’s.

“Everyone has, but he’s been working there for years and his class has a high graduation rate so they won’t do anything about it,” you explain, eyes drifting back down to the folder.

Hinata gasps. “Oh! You should come to dinner with us on Friday! We’re eating at Atsumu’s brother’s restaurant.”

You go to agree, realisation setting in. “Oh, I’d love to go but I can’t. It’s my friend Mei’s birthday, so my other friend Kaede is hosting her party because after her parents passed last year she inherited their house and all their money. They were really rich. She’s also hosting to try and impress her new boyfriend. Who, by the way, has definitely tried making a move on me over summer but I can’t tell people because obviously I’m lying.”

Sakusa furrows his eyebrows at Kaede’s name coming up again. “She doesn’t sound very nice.”

You sigh, pressing your folder against your chest. “She can be nice. She just isn’t very often. But it’s more exhausting being in a fight with her, so I usually just forgive her quickly.”

“Omi-Omi, why don’t you go to the party with her?” Miya suggests, gesturing between the two of you.

“Oh, no,” you quickly interrupt before Sakusa can step in with his own answer. Immediately embarrassed, you try to explain with a laugh, “Not because I don’t want you there. It’s just not your scene, trust me. There will be a lot of people, a lot of alcohol, and a lot more public sex than you would expect.”

“All the more reason for ya not to go alone,” Miya urges. “He might need to protect ya from the creeps.”

You can hear the irritation in Sakusa’s voice. “Atsumu, she said it’s not my scene.”

In an attempt to change the subject, you speak up before Miya can try any harder. “Um, if you guys can push back the dinner by a week I can make it. Even a day, actually.”

Sakusa nods his head. “Sounds like a plan. Saturday for dinner.”

“Aw, look at you both,” Miya coos. “One of ya is so talkative and happy, and the other is Omi.”

You tilt your head at Miya, furrowing your eyebrows. “Miya-san, is one of the reasons you choose to poke fun at Kiyoomi because you remain twenty-six and single? Are you pushing away the idea of your inability to hold a stable relationship for a long period of time and replacing it with the actions of teasing your teammate who’s actually in a stable, happy relationship?”

Miya’s smile falls, staring blankly over at you. He attempts to stammer out a half-decent response to cover up the sounds of the team captain laughing from behind him.

“Who’d have thought you’d be so easy to read?” Sakusa comments, leaning his head back with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Just ‘cause she takes psychology or whatever. Yer makin’ me out to be stupid or somethin’ here,” Miya mutters.

“Oh, wow, you’re sensitive too. I’m sorry if I overstepped at-“

Sakusa cuts you off. “No, don’t apologise to him. He needs to learn.”

Bokuto gasps, pushing his way past his friends so he was directly in front of you. “Why don’t we add you to our group chat? That way we can make plans there and get to know you properly!”

You hum, looking between Sakusa and Bokuto. “Um… Sure.”

masterlist. previous | next

summary. sakusa kiyoomi, middle blocker for the famous msby black jackals, is known for his clean reputation, never drawing attention to himself through scandals. ever since joining the jackals, he's kept himself out of the headlines unless over something good. that is until he drinks a little too much and finds himself in the news for going home with someone he doesn't know.

taglist (34/50). @kawoala @kozu-chan @mayyhaps @jayathelostdragon @vi0let-writes @lavender-pink-socks @kodzumicyy @alcyneus @fi-chanwrites @mdmraz @uhsakusa @sophiahearttss @jnfectedz @ascebel @glads-stuff @freakypickle @anonymity-222 @aldebrana @shozuken @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @followingmysunsposts @v3nusplanetofluv @wakashudou @sexylexy12 @nanasrkives @cloudtato @yuminako @soobinsbreadscrumbs @lover-no-lover61 @bloodb3nders @meikstv @sugacor3 @darling-eos @iheartamora

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vi0let-writes · 29 days ago

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how (not) to fall in love.

→ 36. is this real?

( queued post !! )

‘6pm. music room in the 3rd building.’

am i dreaming?

you turn off your phone and sighed. you’re currently sitting on the toilet in one of the cubicles in the female’s restroom.

how did it end up like this?

you can hear voices from the hallways— most of them are from girls and you want to cover your ears because their giggles are irritating you. you heard scara’s name come out of their mouth and that made you more irritated.

it’s already 5:30, and you know that your friends are finding you right now but you’re here— locking yourself in a cubicle and having a hard time deciding if you will meet scaramouche or just enjoy the foundation week and watch the fireworks.

“do you think scaramouche likes that l/n y/n?” your ears perked up when you heard that. what?

“huh?”

“i heard from r/n that she caught him looking at her in class. as in— staring and not listening to their instructor.”

“no way.”

“i mean, i kind of know why. she’s not annoying, unlike his fangirls. she looks normal, but she’s pretty. plus, you see how his friends defend her from the rude fangirls? that only means she's nice.”

“you’re one, too.”

“hey, i am not THAT crazy about him, for your information!”

“i know, i know! no need to yell at me, jeez.”

“do you think that was the reason why he chose her to be his partner on the promotions photoshoot?”

“how would i know? anyway, the fireworks will start in 20 minutes, let’s go i don’t want to watch it from the very back!”

then they’re gone.

you couldn’t believe what you just heard. i mean, you already had a hunch but you chose to ignore it because you can’t see yourself being in a relationship with someone like him. hello? he is the son of a popular and renowned actress, he is a model, intelligent, cool, handsome, attractive and rich— meanwhile, you’re just… a normal college student.

well, you’ve seen in dramas that that kind of trope is possible, but that is just fiction.

impossible.

not real.

you open your phone and read your messages with him— the ones from your first interaction on twitter until the recent one where he told you don’t compare him to other guys.

i just wanted to enjoy the foundation week...

you almost jumped from your seat when your phone started ringing.

scarymouche. you read.

right after pressing the answer button, you heard an explosion. the fireworks show is starting.

“hello?”

“..where are you?”

why does his voice sound weak?

“are you okay?”

he didn’t answer. you can hear the sound of the firecrackers on the other line, as well as his heavy breathing. what the hell happened to him?

“just… come over here quick,” he said, almost whispering “please.”

that last word was enough for you to leave the cubicle and run towards the 3rd building where he told you to meet him.

what happened to him? did he fall from the stairs while running away from his fangirls? broke his leg so he needed your help to take him to the infirmary???

you ran as fast as you could, trying your best not to trip and bump into anyone.

you can hear the fireworks from outside as well as the cheering of the students but you didn’t stop running.

when you reached the music room, you didn’t bother to catch your breath as you opened the door.

you’re expecting to see a weak-looking scaramouche, but you found a healthy-looking and perfectly fine scaramouche sitting on the corner with his arms crossed and eyes closed instead. he’s also wearing headphones and it looks like he’s not in pain at all.

the fuck?

you closed the door with a bang— loud enough for him to hear it and open his eyes.

“you’re two minutes late.” he said and tapped the space beside him, “sit here.”

you didn’t move. did i run from the main building to the 3rd in two minutes for nothing?!

“what was that?”

“just sit here beside me.”

“you think this is funny, scara?” you close your eyes and let out a sigh to calm yourself, “i ran all the way from the main building to get here, wondering what happened while thinking if you were okay, just to see you sitting here and chilling while listening to whatever music you’re listening to?”

instead of giving you an explanation, scaramouche just gives you a smile.

don’t give me that smile, i am not falling for that!

you felt tears forming in your eyes because of frustration and, well, maybe relief because he is fine.

you quickly wipe your tears to stop them from falling and sit beside him.

“are you crying?” WHAT DO YOU THINK?!

“me? crying?” sniff “who’s crying?”

he chuckled, “i’m sorry.”

“at least try to sound sincere!” you hit his arm and he flinched, “i thought something bad happened to you.”

“were you worried?”

you nodded. “i thought you fell from the stairs while trying to hide from your fangirls, or broke your leg, that's why you called me..” every word you let out, you felt your face flushing from embarrassment so you hugged your knees and buried your face on it.

you can still hear the fireworks outside, and that is the only thing you hear as silence continues filling this dark room.

“i told you to meet me here, though?” he was the first to break the silence, “and sorry to disappoint you, i am perfectly fine.”

“why did you do that, then?” you turn your head to look at him

“i had a feeling you’re not going to show up, so i had no choice.” he removes his headphones and shrugs, “but you got the part where i am hiding from my fangirls right.”

“why are you like this?” you suddenly asked out of nowhere, but you don’t care. after hearing the two girls’ conversation from the restroom earlier, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities that scaramouche feels the same way as you do.

and if you’re right, then the only difference is that he’s been giving you signs but you’re just ignoring it. after all, you only agreed to interact with him to help lumine. but the girl already has her eyes on xiao, so you had no other choice but to continue talking to him.

and now you’re in this situation because you let yourself open your heart to him, even though you made a promise before that you’re not going to like him again.

so cliche.

scaramouche was silent for a few seconds, then he put the headphone on your head.

“i want you to listen to this first.”

a song starts playing and you feel your heart almost stop because you know this song too well. you used to listen to this when you were in high school. you looked up at him, eyes wide.

“huh…?” scaramouche only smiled at you. you were the first to look away and you buried your face in your arms again, face heating up.

Do you ever think, when you're all alone

All that we could be, where this thing could go?

Am I crazy or falling in love?

Is it real or just another crush?

Do you catch your breath when I look at you?

Are you holding back, like the way I do?

'Cause I've tried and tried to walk away

But I know this crush ain't goin' away

you can feel your heart beating so fast it’s almost painful.

oh my god….

there was only silence throughout the song. scaramouche is leaning on the wall, his eyes closed but there was a small smile on his lips.

“...scara?”

“yeah?”

is it true? “the firework’s pretty loud tonight,” you said before removing the headphones from your head since the music has ended.

he chuckled, “you should’ve kept wearing that, idiot.”

why can't you ask him that one question you’ve been wanting to ask? you never had the chance back then, but now you have! he’s right there, y/n! ask him!

“i never liked fireworks.”

“...because it’s loud?”

“hmm.”

without hesitation, you put the headphone on him. he stared at you, eyes wide but you looked away from him.

“..then you should be wearing that and not me, idiot.”

“using my own words against me, i see.”

“shut up…”

scaramouche shifted closer, then gently let his head rest on your shoulder. the warmth of his cheek against your sleeve made you freeze.

“you know,” he started, “if i had to be stuck somewhere during the fireworks, i’m glad it’s with you.”

you caught your breath, barely audible over the distant crackles outside. you stared forward, eyes wide, heart louder than the fireworks themselves.

he didn’t move. just sat there, eyes drifting shut, as if this moment was enough. you didn’t know what to say— not yet. but you didn’t pull away.

am i dreaming? is this a dream? is this real? is this really happening? since when?

why?

your heart is beating so fast, and with how close you two are, you’re starting to hope that he won’t hear it.

this was your wishful thinking. that one day, scaramouche would notice you. that you two would become friends if being his girlfriend is not a choice.

but why do you feel hurt? why do you want to cry? the feeling that’s bubbling up your chest is making it difficult for you to breathe.

do you like me? that question is still left unanswered. well, you never asked him that anyway. but with how scaramouche is acting right now, you’re certain.

just because of that goddamn promotional photoshoot. everything—all this—started because of that.

“y/n, i l—”

“i think lumine and the others are waiting for me, scaramouche. i have to go.”

without waiting for him to say anything, you gently removed his head from your shoulder and left the music room.

previous • masterlist • next

― ⌑

「 SYNOPSIS: your best friend is tired of being single. she wants to fall in love. she wants to become like the female leads she's watching from romance movies. so being the supportive and kind best friend you are, you decided to help her! except that the guy she has her eyes on happens to be your long-term crush from your middle-high school days. surely, you're not the one who will fall for him... right?

― or in which you try to avoid falling for your crush but fate has other plans. 」

― ⌑

⟣ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (closed):

@livelaughlovekuni @shyentsmissingink @alatusorrow @skyoverkill1 @illu-fu @saechiro @stratusworld @dazqa @jiminscarmex @yhailey @samyayaya @help-whatdoimakemyusername @ilovwfurina @blvdmrcnry @trulyylee @morgyyyyyyy @y3u11aiu @misswetty @heusalettle @lalalaloveallmydays @jayzioxx @scaraenthusiast1 @raineyun @kunikissr @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @nishislcve @v4lerixxq @lxkeeeee @liuaneee @phoenix-eclipses @manhdayyyy @anqelkoz @ariesloves @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @kioffy @ihatebananas120 @eternallykira-143 @suniika @almond-t0fu @projectsfantasy @vi0let-writes @constellationguy @usagiarchive @aetherialcrafter @angelkazusstuff @shidouuuliner @kunikuzushis-darling

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vi0let-writes · 1 month ago

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The Empress

< Previous chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter >

Summary - You have prepared for years to take over your Father’s kingdom. You have studied everything from politics to mathematics to philosophy for your future role as Queen.

But when a proposal too good to pass up crosses your Father’s desk your wishes are pushed aside. You are sent off to marry a King from a larger neighbouring kingdom, despite your protests.

Now you have to navigate a new land, people and a Husband who keeps his secrets far from your reach.

Pairing - King!Satoru Gojo x Queen!Reader

Content - Fluff, angst, afab!reader, arranged marriage, court politics, historical setting, Gojo is down bad, reader is oblivious to Gojo’s feelings, it’s getting better, talks of death and madness, illusions to possible abuse, banter, still no actual communication

Word Count - 3.9k

A/N - Shokohime are lesbians because I say so

Chapter 2 - Ball

The first ball of the season is scheduled for three hours from now.

At the beginning and end of every social season a grand ball is thrown to celebrate and this year the first ball will be thrown at the castle.

Normally the Queen is in charge but since you were just crowned less then two weeks ago and Gojo had no Queen before, the person who organized it was Duchess Ieri.

From what Riko tells you the Duchess is a very reserved person but is one of people who holds the most power over high society. She has taken the place in court that a Queen would in terms of influence. She was also the one of the two main picks for Gojo’s Queen if she was not already married.

You need to use this as an example for the rest of the season. Women don’t really get involved with things like commerce and politics but that is not the future you imagine for yourself so you need the nobles to respect and maybe even like you. To make ripples you must first disrupt the pool.

First, you need to do damage control, that is wear Gojo comes in. You need to have the nobles think that you and Gojo are on the same wavelength. Rumours have probably started to spread about your disastrous first night. Most of the nobles who wish to put their own daughters in the position of mistress will use this to undermine you. So Gojo’s support will help you solidify support for your next moves.

Second, you need to build relationships with significant nobles, that will both heighten your chances at appealing to the nobles and make you more approachable. Duke Geto is already friends with Gojo so getting close to him will be easy but you need more than one supporter in the crowd of nobles.

Ideally you want to make ties to the three Ducal families, the Getos, the Ieris and the Tsukumos. The Itadori family would also be good to make ties with.

From what you have heard Gojo grew up with Duke Geto, Duchess Ieri and Lady Itadori. So hopefully it won’t be too much of a hassle.

Sighing at the battle ahead, you brush your hair out. It will all work out, you have prepared to rule for a long time and now it is time to put that into action. Dressing for tonight feels more like dawning armor.

You and Riko look through your closet but none of the dresses feel right. Each of them does not have the image you want for tonight.

A sharp knock comes at the door and Riko answers it. Curious about who would need your attention now, you walk to the door as well.

Geto is standing at the door with a smile on his face. In his hands is a package, the packaging is white with a baby blue ribbon tied around it.

“A gift from the King.” He says simply and hands it over to Riko.

She takes it with a bow, “Thank you, Duke Geto.”

“It is no problem, it is Satoru’s doing, not mine.” He says with a chuckle and leaves not soon after.

Riko hands you the package and shuts the door. You take the package and put it on your vanity. Carefully you pull the ribbon apart and open the package.

A dark blue dress is inside. It is beautiful and exactly what you wanted. It is sleek and elegant, much more your style then anything you currently have. It fits you much better than the dress you wore on your wedding day.

Maybe you should have new dresses commissioned but that is a thought for a different time.

Lifting it up to yourself you look in the full length mirror. It will make a good first impression on the court.

The dress is a perfect fit. You don’t know how he got your size but it hugs you just right. The off the shoulder cape sleeves show just a bit of skin but it is still minimal. And the blue matches the color of the castle’s interior, a perfect way to show that you belong here.

As you look in the mirror a piece of paper catches your eye. Curious, you walk over to the vanity and pick it up. A small note in messy handwriting is written on it.

Think of this as a gift for our truce. - Satoru

You will have to thank him when you see him later.

Both you and Riko walk to the entrance of the ballroom. She will leave you after the doors open and you will be on your own with Gojo for the next few hours.

You stand a few feet away from the double doors that lead into the large room where the nobles are. Shutting your eyes as you school your expression into one of benevolent neutrality. You must act well for this to work.

“Wife.” Gojo’s voice comes from beside you makes you open your eyes.

He looks handsome in his blue and gold embroidered jacket. You also notice that it matches the blue in your dress. His eyes look at your dress and the sides of his mouth turn up in a soft smile.

“Husband.” You respond to his call.

Without a word he holds out his arm for you to hold onto. You take his arm and hold your head high as the guards on either side of the doors open them for you two to enter the ballroom.

The ballroom’s loud chatter stops abruptly as your entrance is announced. You look down at the many nobles gathered. Everyone looks up at the two of you, arm in arm. You know that this will not be enough for them but this is a good start.

After you are announced the two of you make your way down the stairs and over to the twin thrones at the back of the room. You keep your eyes trained ahead of you as the two of you walk. The only sound in the room is the click of your heels as you approach the thrones.

Gojo’s hold shifts to your hand as he helps you up the three stairs to the throne. He also does something you don’t expect, he has you sit down first.

When the King enters no one sits, it is a sign of respect. And him letting you sit first shows how much he respects you. He nods at the nobles and sits down next to you.

The sounds of the ball resume and the band begins to play. You sigh in relief.

He laughs lightly at your reaction, “Were you really that nervous?”

“This is my first public appearance as Queen and you ask if I am nervous? You might not deserve what people say about your intelligence.” You say and cross one leg over the other.

“You might not know it, but I do know a thing or two. For one, I know that you will make a good first impression no matter what you do and that even if you don’t-” He leans in close, “it doesn’t matter.”

His blue eyes stare at you intensely as he pulls back. It holds you in place for just a moment but you quickly flick your eyes away from him to look out at the crowd.

“You are much too full of yourself but you won’t rub that off on me. I know my limitations.” You state, looking back at him for just a second.

A lazy smirk grows on his face, “My own wife wounds me with her silver tongue.”

“Someone has to keep you in line.” You explain and he laughs.

“If you didn’t keep me in line then no one else would.” He says.

You know that this is just an act but it makes your heart squeeze to see some of that laid back prince from all those years ago.

The first overzealous noble approaches you a few songs into the ball. An older woman brings her young daughter and they bow deep to the two of you. The Mother, you assume, rises at Gojo’s hand with a smile on her face.

“Your Majesties, I have come to introduce my daughter that just debuted this season.” She says with a self assured smile sent your way.

To the daughter’s credit she looks terribly uncomfortable, fiddling with her pink ballgown in a nervous manner. You can practically feel her anxiety at being presented like this to the King. She only looks at Gojo briefly before looking away with a light blush dusting her cheeks.

She is beautiful and you can see why her mother seems so sure she will make an impression. And you won’t mind if Gojo takes a lover in the absence of your love but it will have to be further down the line after you secure your place as Queen.

“Nice to meet you, Your Majesties.” She says and you can barely hear it.

“It is nice to see the new additions to the court every year.” Gojo says, very straight to the point and dismissive.

“Yes,” Her eyes drift to you with a smirk on her lips, “some new additions will last longer than others.”

You laugh at her jab towards you, which startles all three of them.

“You truly make wonderful jokes,” You emphasize the word joke, your gaze suddenly turning cold, “because you would be insulting your King if not. He did choose to marry me after all.”

She seems to grasp the situation and her face pales to shade of white that you have not seen before. Her daughter looks like she may have a heart attack at any moment. You give her a smirk of your own as you grab Gojo’s hand.

He immediately fits your hands together. Grabbing her daughter’s arm she stutters out a half assed goodbye and scurries off.

After they are out of ear shot Gojo turns to you, “See? You are a natural!”

You just roll your eyes at him and let go of his hand, even though you mourn the loss of his warmth.

“Your Majesties.” A new voice says, interrupting whatever Gojo was going to say.

“Duchess Ieri,” Gojo’s mood immediately brightens as he looks at her, “It has been a while since I have seen you! Is your wife here as well?”

“She is in attendance, but she wishes not to see you.” She says, a sparkle of amusement in her honey brown eyes as she stares at him.

“I am a delight to see, I will have you know!” Gojo exclaims in mock offense, “Even my wife agrees!”

You raise an eyebrow, “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Duchess Ieri’s gaze turns to you and she smiles.

“Your Majesty, my wife has been dying to meet you. May I steal a moment of your time?” She asks, cutting off Gojo’s retort.

“Yes, I would love to meet your wife, Duchess.” You agree and stand up.

Satoru watches as you walk away with Shoko. A frown on his face. Suguru walks up to him and stands next to him, a look of amusement on his face as Satoru all but sulks on his throne.

“Our best friend is trying to steal my wife from me.” Satoru says with a slight pout to his lips.

Suguru chuckles, “She is already happily married.”

“Still, be careful Suguru, she may steal your wife when you get one.” Satoru warns him with his arms crossed.

“If I get married.” Suguru corrects him.

“There is still time for you yet my friend.” Satoru says.

You are beautiful. The most beautiful thing Satoru has ever seen in his lifetime- maybe all his lifetimes. But seeing you in blue, in his color makes his heart beat out of his chest.

He had spent hours after your wedding night thinking of ways to make you more comfortable with him. But when you asked him to act cordial with you in public he resolved himself to spoil you with that excuse in mind.

It had taken him and Suguru a whole night to find a good enough dress for you. He had been almost manic as he looked at book after book on dress designs. Somehow they both ended up on the floor, the catalogues scattered between them.

“What about gold accents? With blue?” Satoru had asked, dark circles under his eyes.

“At this point- anything is fine.” Suguru had grumbled, an arm slung over his eyes as the morning sun had peeked into the room.

He is still surprised that his best friend had not left him in his unraveled state as he tried to get everything just right for you.

Satoru wants nothing more than to be in your presence for eternity but for some reason people need his attention. He holds back his frown at this baron that is talking to him about…

He actually forgets what he is talking to him about.

“-the situation with our trade is-”

You are talking with Shoko and Utahime in the corner, a smile on your lips as Shoko says something. It is a soft expression on your face and he longs to see it closer.

“-and the tariffs! Your Majesty-”

Utahime says something and you laugh in surprise.

Gojo is sure it is the most beautiful sound he could ever hear but he is stuck here. Damn social etiquette. He wants nothing more than to stop talking to this man about- whatever he is talking about and run to you.

“Are you alright your Majesty?” The baron asks in front of him.

“Hm? Oh yes, I will deal with the um- tariffs.” Satoru assures him and begins to make his way over to you, leaving the Baron behind.

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” He calls after him but Satoru’s mind is focused on your smile.

He pushes through the crowds of people in the ballroom to get to you. Most people get out of his way but he does accidentally bump into a few people.

Shoko is the first to notice his approach, a knowing look in her eyes that he is all to familiar with by now after knowing her since they were both fifteen. She is the bane of his existence when she is not absorbed in her wife. Maybe he should revoke her title.

She gently nudges you to look at him. Your eyes lock on his and he sees a swirl of emotions there. He almost hesitates as your eyes look into his but he has never been one to hesitate in the spotlight so he walks up to you.

“My Queen,” He says with a bow, “May I have this dance?”

You raise an eyebrow at his sure smile. He wants so bad to win you over. To mend this mess at least a little bit.

Reluctantly you take his outstretched hand. He stands back up and pulls you to the center of the dance floor. The floor clears for the two of you as everyone stares in silence.

The song begins slowly.

Gojo snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you to him. This is the closest you have ever been to him, even that night all those years ago. He stares down at your face, his expression is between awe and something else you can’t describe. You meet his gaze and see small flecks of grey in his bright blue eyes.

The both of you move, and the world falls away as you dance.

“Why did you ask me to dance?” You whisper to him.

“I thought you wanted a truce? And can’t a husband dance with his beautiful wife?” He asks you, avoiding your question with one of his own.

You roll your eyes at his avoidant answer, “Fine don’t tell me.”

He laughs quietly at your irritation.

The two of you move around the dance floor in precise and practiced motions. You fit well together as the both of you follow the steps to a familiar dance.

Gojo is much different from your previous dance partners. He says nothing after his avoidant answer to your question. His icy blue eyes study your expression and you can’t help but stare back.

As the music crescendos Gojo twirls you out for a moment before pulling you back to him. The band stops playing as the song comes to an end but you don't move and neither does he. The both of you just stay there, holding each other in the middle of the room.

“If I revealed all my secrets then our marriage would become boring.” He teases you with a grin.

You, once again, are locked in place by his gaze.

Everyone claps as the music ends and the applause breaks you out of your trance. You abruptly pull away from his embrace. But he still has a hold of your hand as you walk back to the dais.

A new song starts and people take to the floor.

After a few hours you are worn out. You look over at Gojo who also seems to be bored of his role. Duchess Shoko and her wife Utahime have already left so you don’t have many people to talk to.

You stand up and Gojo startles as if he were jolted awake. Suppressing a grin at his sleepy state you speak to him, “I am taking my leave for the night.”

“Of course, have a good night My Queen.” He says and you can hear the sleepiness in his voice.

“Goodnight Gojo.” You say and walk through the ballroom, up the stairs and into the hall.

Sighing in relief you slump your shoulders and trudge down the hall. Halfway to your room you take off your shoes in an effort to ease the pain of your feet. The cold stone feels good to your aching soles.

When you get to your room Riko, who you had told not to wait up for you but did any way, helps you out of your dress and into something more comfortable to sleep in.

You groan at how good it feels to have your hair out of the pins it was in. And you run your hands appreciatively over your, now clean, face. Riko giggles at your exaggerated reaction and leaves for the night.

When you lay down it doesn’t take you long to pass out, your mind and body worn out by the festivities.

After a month since the wedding your life has not changed a lot. You still rarely see Gojo unless it is a public appearance, which is rare, but you have taken over the duties assigned to the Queen.

The Queen really only looks after the castle and high society but that isn’t all you want to do. You want to inch out of the set roles placed on you. But progress is slow, most of the nobles won’t want you to be involved. You status as an outsider is still too prominent in their minds.

But that doesn’t stop you from running the castle the way you want.

“Your Majesty! This is much more effective than what we have been doing!” The head maid exclaims as she looks over the budget report for this week.

“I am happy to help.” You say back.

Her face lights up and for a moment it looks as if she is seeing some else, “You remind me so much of the late Queen. She had the same determination that you have.”

“Go- Satoru’s mother?” You quickly correct yourself so you sound more close.

“Yes! I was just a regular maid at the time but she was so kind to the people under her care. She made up for her husband’s callousness.” She explains, a proud expression on her face.

“Was he that bad?” You ask, putting the paper in front of you to the side.

She grows pensive, “At times. When the late Queen was around he seemed to forget his ambitions, he seemed more human with her. But then when She died he grew even more distant. He grew mad with power, lashed out at everyone- even- even His Majesty.”

You see the genuine sadness in her eyes as she tells you. The last words stick with you. Did he actually hurt Gojo in his rage? You wonder what was happening behind closed doors during that time.

“But I won’t talk about unpleasant things anymore!” She quickly changes subjects, “I believe that His Majesty has requested to see you when you have the time.”

You blink in surprise.

Why did he want to see you? He has done a good job of keeping himself away from you so why break the stalemate first? You don’t understand him and you don’t think you ever will.

“Where is he?” You ask, getting up and walking around to the front of your desk.

“His office I believe.” She answers you.

“Thank you, I will start over to his office.”

A month into your marriage Satoru realises a very important misstep. He hasn’t assigned you a personal guard.

So he decides to correct this.

Satoru huffs a dissatisfied sigh as he looks out at the training grounds. Guards are sprawled over the ground catching their breaths as he looks on disapprovingly. The morning sun beats down on his neck. None of them are good enough to protect you.

It irritates him to no end.

He wants to pick a personal guard to protect you if he is not around. It makes him nervous to not have someone by your side to defend you if need be. So he decided to clear his morning schedule to pick out a suitable guard for you. But the problem is that none of them come close to his standards.

Suguru clears his throat loudly behind Satoru to get his attention, “Are you done torturing the castle guards?”

“It is not torture- I just need to make sure that they can protect my wife if I am gone.” Satoru explains.

“Why not just choose two people? Haibara and Nanami are excellent guards and they are close to us.” Suguru suggests.

Satoru blinks in surprise.

“Suguru!” Satoru grabs his friend by the shoulders, “You are a genius!”

The “genius” in question just rolls his eyes and pries Satoru’s hands off of his shoulders.

“Now can we get back to your desk full of work?” He asks and Satoru sighes dejectedly.

“Fine!”

When Satoru gets his work done for the day he calls for you. He knows that you have settled into your role and feels satisfied to see you out of your shell. He has heard from the head maid and some of the attendants that you were taking to your role like a duck to water. But after his delicate truce with you he still doesn’t want to push his luck so he has decided to mostly leave you alone.

As he waits for you he looks out at the setting sun from his window. It casts a golden glow over the room and he basks in the light.

Satoru doesn’t know what the right thing to do is.

He wants you but he would rather die than be the source of your misery. His mind is filled with contradictory thoughts. He wants to think he is doing the right thing but he doesn’t know. Maybe his Father was right, love does make one go insane.

It was one of the last coherent things he had said. Near the end of his father’s life he had gone insane. Most people blamed his old age but Satoru knew it was because his mother had died before him. They had died 10 months apart, it had been such a sudden change for him. Satoru lost both his parents in a year.

He had whispered it to him, like a secret only Satoru was supposed to know. And Satoru had not immediately known what he meant by it. Not until he saw you at his coronation ceremony had it clicked.

You had walked in with an air of grace to you that he could not drag his eyes from. The curve of your smile made his heart go mad in his chest. The light in your eyes had made him forget what he wanted to say when he had approached you. He had remembered your meeting on the balcony but he had been struck then by how blindingly brilliant you are.

“Gojo?” Your voice startles him out of his reminiscing.

He turns to see you standing in from of his desk, a concerned look on your face. You look beautiful as always, the green of your dress reminds him of a bright meadow.

“Ah- sorry, I was just thinking some things over.” Satoru says and stands, “I called you here to let you know that I have gotten you two personal guards. I had overlooked it for the past two weeks so I wanted to correct that.”

You look surprised at his words, “Personal guards?”

“Yes, they should be here in the morning and Suguru will bring you to meet them.” He says and you nod.

“Thank you Gojo.” You say in a semi cold tone.

It is better than before but still stings.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” Satoru replies, “Have a good night.”

You look almost hesitant to leave. For a split second your eyes move between him and the door. Are you wanting to talk to him more? But your wavering comes to an end and he watches as you turn on your heel to walk out.

Maybe he is just projecting.

Taglist- @tenaciousavenueavenue @hyori2 @joyfulweaselbananapanda @miakxn @lovystar @moonz33 @linny-bloggs @straykeeks @vi0let-writes @procastinatingbitch @ughhmenna

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vi0let-writes · 1 month ago

Text

⟳ 26. INTOXICATED

You and Kaz arrive at the bar a little late, but just in time for the first few waves of shots being passed around. The place hums with energy, with dim lights, heavy bass, unfamiliar bodies pulsing near the DJ booth.

Ven spots you both from the second-floor lounge near the stairs, presumably the couch space he claimed for all of you.

“Over here!” he bellows, trying to cut through the music with bleary eyes. You spot your friends laughing at his theatrics, already nestled into the couch.

You snort. The night’s barely begun and he’s already half gone.

You scan the crowd between you and the stairs. Someone bumps into you in the chaos, jolting you off-balance. You instinctively reach for the nearest thing—

Kaz.

He feels your light tug and immediately turns to steady you, murmuring a quiet, ‘Careful,’ as he catches your arm.

He holds out his hand. “Don’t let go, okay?”

You smile and slip your fingers into his.

You weave through the crowd, hands clasped tightly so you don’t lose each other in the press of bodies.

“[Name]! Kaz! You guys made it!” Ven slurs, stumbling forward to greet you with a hug that lingers a bit too long.

“God, you already reek, and it’s not even ten p.m.,” you groan, hugging him back anyway.

He giggles. “That’s the thing! It is almost ten, and I’m not blacked out yet!”

You roll your eyes but smile. “Happy birthday, you menace.”

“Thank you!” he sings.

“Happy birthday, Ven,” Kaz says with a soft smile. Ven slings an arm around his shoulder.

“Take care of [Name] tonight, yeah?” Ven adds, waggling his eyebrows.

Kaz chuckles and gently removes Ven’s arm, patting his back. “I’ll look out for her.”

“Boo! No fun!” Ven laughs, tottering back to his seat.

You greet your friends, let Lumi pull you into a selfie, and down your first shot without even asking what it is.

Then another.

You slow down after a few more, pleasantly buzzed but still steady. Some of your friends head down to dance, pulled by partners or strangers into the tide of music. You and Kaz linger, watching from above.

“They’re so loud,” you say, amused as you hear their shouting voices above the music.

Kaz chuckles beside you, pouring himself a drink. “I’m surprised you’re not down there with them.”

Sighing, you take the same bottle and pour it into your own glass. “Normally, I would. But… I’m just not feeling it tonight. Not here.”

“The place?”

You simply hum in response, taking a sip of your drink.

“Soda? Really?” you say as you feel the liquid fizzing in your mouth.

“Someone’s gotta stay somewhat sober,” Kaz laughs as he proceeds to take another sip of his drink. “I already took my one shot of vodka and I already feel dizzy. I told you I don’t take alcohol well.”

You down the soda in your glass and fill it up again with the same drink.

“You do know Ven was just joking when he tweeted that,” you say with a breathy chuckle.

“Even so, I need to honor the celebrant’s wish,” he replies with a proud smile.

You shake your head and take a sip of your drink, not replying.

“Do you drink often?” he asks.

“Not recently, no,” you answer.

“Seriously? Even after the whole break-up?”

“Not a break-up,” you mutter, shooting him a look. He smiles amusedly in response. “And no. I didn’t drink then because I firmly believe alcohol doesn’t help with pain.”

And mostly because you didn’t want to end up doing something stupid while drunk.

“So you drinking now means… what? Progress?”

“Maybe?” You shrug. “I don’t know.”

But deep down, you know that’s not entirely true.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t feel anything for him anymore.

You just forced yourself to stop thinking.

No reminiscing, no late-night peeks at his profile, no checking what his ex posted.

You locked him away in your mind and told yourself not to look back.

That one day, time would dull it all.

His face. His voice. His touch.

Your feelings.

And honestly? Kaz helped with that. Willingly.

He knew all of this and was happy to help distract you and guide you through your emotions.

“You’ll get there eventually,” he says.

At one point you started to think the ‘therapist’ joke was becoming real.

You could feel him glance at you longer than usual, and you notice the warmth in his gaze.

And for a second, it feels like something you could want, something you could drown yourself in.

If only you were ready. But you’re still scared.

Maybe in the future.

“Yeah. I will,” you affirm to yourself.

But of course, just when you think the universe might give you peace,

out of nowhere—

Your eyes land on a familiar figure walking through the crowd at the entrance.

You squint to double check that it’s not just the alcohol in your system playing with your mind.

Your stomach drops.

Of course.

Just when you were talking about it.

And at such a vulnerable state, too.

You grip the edge of the couch instinctively, the cold of your glass grounding you.

Kaz sees your shoulder tense. He looks at you, wordlessly asking if you’re okay.

You turn to him. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

His worry slowly dissipates, and nods in understanding.

You make your way downstairs and to the dance floor.

Then you’re spinning around, moving too fast, eyes scanning the crowd until they land on Ven, drunk laughing with your friends, tipping back another shot like it’s juice.

You beeline to him.

“Ven.” You grab his arm and drag him out away from the group and near the bathrooms.

“Wah–? What’s wronggg?” he garbles.

“Why the hell is he here?”

Ven blinks at you, bleary-eyed. “Who?”

“Kuni.”

“Ohhhh,” he drawls, grin crooked. “Ajax asked to invite him. I said yes.”

“You what?” you hiss, louder than intended. “Why?”

He shrugs, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Thought it’d be fun.”

You stare at him in disbelief and betrayal. “Even her?”

Ven immediately sobers up. Not in expression, but in tone. “Hell no. I’d never let her near my party.”

“But he can?”

Ven just laughs—shrill, high, unbothered—and walks away with a stupid, ‘Good luck!’

You don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or go home.

Or strangle an intoxicated friend.

He’s lucky it’s his birthday.

So instead, you go to the open bar and order a whole bottle, bringing it with you.

You step upstairs and make your way toward the couch area, the bass from downstairs still thumping faintly beneath your shoes.

And there he is.

Sitting with Ajax and Kaz, a glass already in hand. Ajax is next to him, mid-speech, but freezes the moment he sees you, nearly choking on his drink. Kaz is settled across the couch, comfortably distant from them, staring at Kuni as if also not expecting him to be here.

You don’t hesitate. You walk straight to them and slide on the couch beside Kaz. Closer than earlier.

You pour yourself a drink, adding ice from the bucket.

No one says anything.

Not yet.

One shot.

Ajax tries, “[Name], he’s—“

The shot glass clinks on the table as you pour more.

Two shots.

Kaz gives you a subtle glance, like he’s about to say something, but doesn’t.

The tension is thick.

You lean back on the couch, letting your head rest for a moment. You don’t notice Kaz’s arm stretched behind you, resting casually on the top of the couch until you’re already half-leaning into it.

Not touching, but almost.

You don’t mean to look, but you feel it.

The weight of someone’s eyes on you.

He’s staring.

He hasn’t said a word. Just stares intensely at the both of you from across the couch like he’s trying to piece you back together in his head.

It’s like he’s waiting for you to break.

And it infuriates you.

You keep your face blank, but your thoughts spiral.

Why is he even here? Why did he accept Ajax’s invite knowing you’d be here.

Was it to mock you? To check up on you? To make sure you can’t move on properly from him?

You pour another drink, but hesitate this time. Your grip tightens. Your breathing hitches.

“You alright?” you hear Kaz whisper softly in your ear that sends shivers down your spine.

You nod. Barely.

Your surroundings begin to spin and blur. The crowd’s chatter and the music’s blaring beat fade into a distant, drowned-out hum.

You try to concentrate, not giving in to the alcohol. Your head tips against Kaz’s shoulder, resting. He doesn’t move.

You glance up, and sure enough, Kuni is still staring.

Still drinking you in like he has a right to.

But this time, he’s downing a bottle as he keeps his gaze fixated on the two of you.

Memories flood back.

The times when you kept saying to yourself that it’s the last time. That you’d end things with him.

And then Kuni shows up, like he always does, to remind you what you’re trying to leave behind.

You glare at him once. Hard. Daring him to look away.

He doesn’t.

If his expression earlier was somewhat readable, this time it’s impossible to comprehend.

Does he regret it? Or is he just proud of himself?

This pisses you off.

You want a reaction out of him.

He doesn’t just get to let you go and be happy. He can’t just be unaffected by all of this.

You want to show him what he took for granted.

There must be something.

And in a sudden burst of defiance, you grab the half-empty bottle on the table and down most of it.

The liquor burns, but it’s a distraction.

A blur.

Exactly what you need.

You stand up, wobbling as the rush hits your head.

Giggling, you turn to Kaz and grab his hand. “Let’s dance,” you say, voice slurred, eyes glinting with something between chaos and pain.

Kaz looks at you with a pointed expression, reluctant, but eventually follows.

From the couch, Ajax watches with wide eyes. “Hey, man…” he starts, already on alert.

Kuni’s still frozen, but only for a second. He finishes what’s left of his bottle and sets it down with a heavy thud and stands up.

“Don’t,” Ajax says under his breath, placing a hand on Kuni’s chest. “Don’t follow them. You’re drunk.”

Kuni doesn’t answer.

You and Kaz reach the dance floor. Amidst the bass pulsing and the people packed around you, in your mind, you have one clear drunk goal.

You start jumping to the beat, loose and unfiltered, dragging Kaz with you. You spin around and tug him closer, too close.

Arms on his shoulders, hips swaying near his. Kaz, ever steady, moves with you but still keeps a proper distance.

“Why are you doing this?” he mutters lowly, trying to catch your gaze.

You just laugh.

Loud. Drunken. Detached.

You don’t answer.

Kaz sighs. “Come on, let’s go bac–“

He’s about to let go and bring you back upstairs until he glances to the side.

Kuni.

Standing stiff at the edge of the dance floor, watching. Jaw clenched. Eyes locked on the space between you and Kaz, like he’s trying to will it away.

Ajax is behind him, trying to pull him back again.

Ah.

Realization hits him.

Kaz sees it now.

He sighs once more.

He knows this isn’t really about him, but he does it anyway.

He lets his hand rest on your waist, pulling your bodies closer. Your arms loop around his neck without thought. Despite being out of it, you can feel the tension between the two of you spike in the air.

Kaz takes it up a notch by slowly inching his face down to yours. You let him.

He doesn’t rush. Instead, he draws it out, lowering his face inch by inch, just enough for your breath to catch. His lips hover dangerously close, not touching, just waiting.

Daring.

And that’s when Kuni shifts.

A flicker of movement.

A reaction.

Ajax tries to hold him back, voice lost in the loud crowd. But Kuni pushes forward.

And before you can process it, a hand wraps around your arm, tugging you firmly, pulling you out of Kaz’s hold.

Your head spins. The crowd blurs. Your heartbeat spikes.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kuni confronts.

Kaz harshly shook off Kuni’s grip on you but kept his tone calm. “Maybe don’t grab her like that.”

“Maybe back the fuck off,” Kuni snaps.

“Oh, now you’re acting like this?” Kaz holds his stern gaze, challenging the other.

A few nearby partygoers paused mid-dance, turning their heads toward the commotion, eyes flicking between the raised voices and the tension unfolding. Some backing up to not get involved. Some were too drunk to care.

Ajax stepped between them, hands up. “Okay, cool it. Not the time–”

“Shut up.” Kuni brushes off Ajax and moves to grab your arm again.

You tug your arm back, voice slurred. “Stop it.”

You look at Kuni, eyes glassy. “You don’t… youu don’t have the right to act like this. You have Mona.” You point at his chest weakly, trying to push him away with your finger.

Fuck. The alcohol is really getting to you.

Kuni’s breath caught.

“You don’t understand,” Kuni speaks lowly.

You wobble a little as you take a step towards him, trying to straighten yourself. But the sheer audacity of what he just said sobers your mind up a bit.

“What?” you ask, still inebriated, but angry.

Don’t understand what?

That he can pull you in just to let go the second it gets real? Acting like he cares, only to vanish when it matters? That he can get back with his past while you mourn your one-sided relationship?

You’ve been trying to get well without him—trying to breathe, move on, forget—but he somehow finds a way to remind you of what once was.

So what exactly are you not getting?

“Why are you eve—”

You barely get the words out before everything crashes down at once.

And then,

You feel a pair of lips on yours.

⟳ BLURRED LINES — PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

You say you’re just friends. You say it every time you leave a party together, every time you wake up tangled in sheets, every time you swear it’s the last time. But habits form, lines blur, and pretending gets harder when jealousy starts to sting.

NOTE i’m posting this without proper proofreading lol i’m scared once i finish this smau and go back to read it, i’ll regret writing it sm. anw so let’s just pretend that mc can hold her liqour so well <3 also happy one month advanced birthday venti!

TAGLIST @joiurz @sketcheeee @mywillt0live @kyouzki @ylapsha45 @eternallykira-143 @bananasquash @kunikissr @swivi @ariesloves @lloversss @b-bbytears @kokoscutie @vi0let-writes @tomsishere @franaby @scaraenthusiast1 @iloveescara @usagiarchive @ilovecats-26 @quiechee @snetr @axquella @tatsuomii @lalalaloveallmydays @liyahbug @feiherp @jinjjjia @automaticpatroltragedy @mysterypotatoink @zuhahearts @adres-tia @ssetsuka @strwbrrybbpop @sesamemin @blvdmrcnry @aspinny @jiminscarmex @sammybeefangirls @lxkeeeeee @yu-yumii @linasxoxo @quiet-place-for-thoughts @randomhumans-blog @aaudreys @lesbi-snail @jayzioxx @meowpmzai @s-f-rants @cosmic-rainestorm @honey-and-sweetdreams @vincelikestomince @mono-dontidae @simeonmybabygirlicious @gugumioooo [50/50]

if your name is in bold, that means i can’t tag you

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vi0let-writes · 1 month ago

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“Ethereal Paintings”

25~ Do not perceive my impending doom☔️

Scaramouche X reader smau | word count: 1,632

Anxiously they all huddle around a single lit-up home screen, occasionally murmuring to each other to shove over cause they can't see.

The wait for the ding of the following message took up seconds they couldn't bear to sit still for.

“How can a single message be an excruciating pain to wait for.”

“Maybe they got old fingers to type fast.”

“Okay, zoomer. Have you ever SEEN them??!? They are in their prime!! And still go on dates!!!”

“The ideal parents…”

“Okay but still…what’s taking so long??”

“I bet the other two aren’t even there yet.”

“Expected though. He probably needed a few dozen pep talks.”

“....and how was Ayato the one to do that and go with him??”

“Probably so Scara isn’t forced out….Ayato has a third key just in case…”

An unrelevant message popped up from scara on Kazuha’s phone. He reads it out loud.

“Do not perceive my impending doom. I’m likely to get shut out.”

Layla frowns and she shakes her head. “Her parents will warm her up first.”

“As long as they tell us they got in though…it’s been a while—”

*DING*

The phone lit up and the awaited message popped up. The blue-haired Kamisato grabbed her phone fast and opened it up for all 8 pairs of eyes to see.

“They’re in!!”

☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️☔️

The door creaked open afraid to startle the resident and make a mess of the situation.

That was proved to be unnecessary as the pair peered past the dark and dimly lit studio. She wouldn’t have noticed at all. Only two large white eyes stared up at the intruders, its tail swishing as it sat over the resident like a gargoyle.

The woman’s lips frowned and eyebrows furrowed in apprehension and anguish. She waves her hand and the man gets her message.

The flutter of thick curtains draws open loudly, the room now getting beat with the rays of moonlight and the twinkling of the city underneath the building's height.

The noise couldn’t even wake the slumbering resident. Too drawled out in her vicious unhealthy cycle of mourning from an act of betrayal.

“Honey….” The woman’s voice was laced with worried concern for the view of her daughter sprawled across the carpeted floor.

But now that light is in the large studio did they see what lay beneath her was actually a canvas she scrawled all over in dark purple.

illumi darted away as her mother approached her body. Father looked at the cat and dug through his pocket, bending down he poured the cat treats into a bowl on the ground.

“Courtesy from your owner.” He smiled as he watched the cat eat happily and he scratched her head before joining his wife beside their main concern.

Father picked y/n up and the three of them headed to the bedroom upstairs. The only place that seemed untouched by her crazed despair.

Concern grew as they saw how rigid her body was in his arms. “She’s much lighter than her average weight…”

“...I saw convenience store snacks in the kitchen. Oh, my baby…” He lays his daughter down on the bed as the couple sits beside her next to each other.

Mother touched Y/n’s forehead and sighed in relief. “No fever at least. I’m betting on large migraines instead.”

“How should we wake our little darling artist?” Father grunts out as he watches y/n furrow her face restlessly.

Mother smiles nostalgically, Father gets the memo and they both place their palm on either of y/n’s cheeks stroking her face, she bristles and her face relaxes.

Deep bagged eyes blearily open in a daze. Her night terrors had dissolved from a familiar warmth as she took moments to recover her awakening.

“Our go-to way of waking you up when a nightmare consumes you. Better than getting terrified awake.” Mother giggles as she softens her voice and eyes. Leaning in she kisses her forehead which astonishingly melts the throbbing migraine, somewhat.

“Mom…dad…’m so tired. And numb…” Y/n struggled to sit up as her parents helped her up.

“Darling, you have no energy at all. Drink this, hot rejuvenating soup. 100% mother-made and she had the whole pot put in containers for you to save for later on.”

Father passes a thermos while the three get comfy and close to hold each other. Y/n sat in the middle.

Mother watched her gulp down the warm soup and waited till she was halfway done. Make sure she has enough nutrients for the heavy topic.

“Now…y/n. Why are you destroying yourself… Are you tryingg to have a more rough love story than ours?” She lightly teased to try and pry a smile from your sunken lips.

Having no energy to move a muscle and only lying on their shoulders, her lips mumble.

“I don’t...love him. He’s my enemy. Stole from me…my life’s passion. Didn’t consent to a.i feeding…Falsified his affection and…broke my heart.”

“Darling, have you ever gotten his viewpoint–“ Father got smacked on the head lightly as mother cut him off.

“We’ve chatted with the boy, albeit over text buutt, I can see him trying desperately to get you back. This is no story like ours, but I do think it’s time to return and face him once again.” Her words provided an unfounded warmth.

“You don’t have to accept any apologies, answer him, or force him to conform, just listen to his story. How else would you be able to debate with him?” Mother gives her a secure pat to go forth and face it.

“If I knew from the beginning I would've asked Papa to sue him...making a mess of art’s history…” Y/n whimpers and keeps her head down, he eyes puffy from lack of sleep and the sinking spirals of despair.

Mother quirks an eyebrow, curious and suspecting the real motive of all this. “My little artist…do you think you have to hold up the grandiose history of the art world I had a part in? All alone?”

Father's eyes understood but y/n scrunched up her face and body. She thought about it too much subconsciously that it was her job to parade around history like it was her legacy to maintain.

The berating thought of sheltering the traditional art from the wrongful social norms, she took it on herself. Building herself around a castle she wanted to protect, her walls having a gaping hole from a purple wrecking ball caused a collapse.

The wall feels lacking in her way of protection and slowly rebuilds. Her art castle is her only safe space and requires all her attention. The cracking walls tremble in another collapse, begging to open up the castle.

“And the walls have chipped y/n…I never asked you to uphold my reputation in history, nor will I ever carry such a weight. Sure I was important, but it’s the past now, oh my sweet color child.”

Tears welled up in y/n’s eyes. She couldn't let it go. Her mother was her idol, her inspiration. To let others mindlessly trample her past work was horrifying.

“Fear of A.I art covering up traces of the beautiful art I’ve founded, your fear drives hatred, dear. You’ve let it consume you. And you’ve let it destroy you.” Mother pulled your trembling body close and sighed lightly as she latched onto her.

“Do you hate how he tempted you, what he used against you, or the sinking feeling that he’s left the morals you silently pleaded him to follow?” She placed a kiss on her head while holding father’s hand behind her as she bawls.

Father ruffled her hair and followed mother to kiss her head as well.

“Let me tell you my view of our story. When your mother went off the radar, I was restless and worried. I didn’t dare ask one of her friends the whereabouts of her. I cared and soon enough my mind raced so often with missing her. Then I thought of a possibility of me driving her away permanently because of my ignorant bickering and debating. I didn’t want to be her cause of giving up and destroying her foundation.”

Father’s mouth curls bitterly following with a softer voice.

He feared he was the problem, that his stubborn rebuttals caused her to get tired of him. He hated how he was like that. But he couldn't help it. It was in his nature.

Is that what Scara’s feeling…?

“So when I saw her again, all shining in that much deserved spotlight and passion, I knew I loved her creative spark with each time I've ever thought about her in the 3 years she's been gone.”

He didn't want to leave that spotlight where she was the star. She shone to him in a way he knows he’ll never get to experience again if he lets her go.

Y/n listened, just like all the times she’d pay clear attention to their stories.

This time was no different, no matter how the tale was meant to free her, she wanted to be guided by her parents she loved so dearly.

So she opened her heart and head to these experiences; a gateway to guide her own turmoil.

But… How does he feel? Was I like a shining light to him…?

That thought made your heart wrench.

“She came back, with much more vigor than the last time I saw her. And it filled my soul. It meant I didn’t crush her spirit, and she thanked me for pushing her past her limits.”

“I was her revelation.”

“Her reason to start again."

“You are your mother’s daughter Y/n, pursue that soulful feeling again."

Now… did I have a right to go back to him after anguishing him as he did to my unwarranted goal.

Would he still. . . Pursue me with this obstacle i made. . .

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Synopsis{3}-> Scara decided to stop his a.i art creations when he realized that you are really his fav artist—as long as you were the one to teach him how to paint and draw. Facing multitudes of slip of the tongue from your friends; you figured out that he was your mortal nemesis; hatred brewed and twisted your view on him.

Lmaoo, i write Scaramouche’s name so much it autocorrected

Yayyy done, now to the fun part😚

Male POV🤤🤤

//Taglist//

@akagism2 @pokidot @feiherp @kyouzki @rmiyuki @infe-risk0 @sakurapeach @bluebelony @kichiyoshi @mikctp @kur44pika @cupids-chamber @crucnhice @neigesprincess @scaramoo @gojoandelsalovechilde @childeslegstrap @sakiimeo @d4y-dr3am3r-blog @m3gitsune @scarletttcroww @sashiette @beriiov @rizakari @xiaossocksniffer @lxry-chxn @bryai003 @eunchaeluvr @goj0h @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @sketcheeee @ozzierenato @ohmyfinggod @kiyomi-hoku @ynverse @featuredtofu @reinoodle @angeilix @keizuk @sayokeshii @liuaneee @scarasbaby @peaceindreams @samyayaya

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vi0let-writes · 2 months ago

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how (not) to fall in love.

→ 32. look at me

( small time skip! )

previous • masterlist • next

― ⌑

a/n: YALL WE REACHED 1K NOTES 😭 THANK YOU EVERYONE ILY ALL 🥹💗 (may you win your next 50/50s 🙌🍀)

― or in which you try to avoid falling for your crush but fate has other plans. 」

― ⌑

⟣ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (closed):

@livelaughlovekuni @shyentsmissingink @alatusorrow @skyoverkill1 @illu-fu @saechiro @stratusworld @dazqa @jiminscarmex @yhailey @samyayaya @help-whatdoimakemyusername @ilovwfurina @blvdmrcnry @trulyylee @morgyyyyyyy @y3u11aiu @misswetty @heusalettle @lalalaloveallmydays @jayzioxx @scaraenthusiast1 @raineyun @kunikissr @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @nishislcve @v4lerixxq @lxkeeeee @liuaneee @phoenix-eclipses @manhdayyyy @anqelkoz @arieslovesfood @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @kioffy @ihatebananas120 @eternallykira-143 @suniika @almond-t0fu @projectsfantasy @vi0let-writes @constellationguy @usagiarchive @aetherialcrafter @angelkazusstuff @shidouuuliner @kunikuzushis-darling

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vi0let-writes · 2 months ago

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Hello, you may be asking

“Violet, why are you starting another new fanfiction when you still haven’t finished the first two?”

GREAT QUESTION!! I do not know.. I just have so many ideas and so little time in the day… I am getting another chapter of my Xiao ff today or tomorrow. BUT IM STARTING A MEGUMI FANFICTIONNNNNN YAY! I’ll post information about that later today so stay tunedddd 😘

My Xiao Ff Masterlist

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vi0let-writes · 2 months ago

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guys my age ━━━ sakusa kiyoomi

02. who the fuck is sakusa kiyoomi?

masterlist. previous | next

taglist (28/50). @kawoala @kozu-chan @mayyhaps @jayathelostdragon @vi0let-writes @lavender-pink-socks @kodzumicyy @alcyneus @fi-chanwrites @mdmraz @uhsakusa @sophiahearttss @jnfectedz @ascebel @glads-stuff @freakypickle @anonymity-222 @aldebrana @shozuken @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @followingmysunsposts @v3nusplanetofluv @wakashudou @sexylexy12 @nanasrkives @cloudtato @yuminako @soobinsbreadscrumbs

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vi0let-writes · 2 months ago

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guys my age ━━━ sakusa kiyoomi

01. who’s your girlfriend?

masterlist. previous | next

taglist (21/50). @kawoala @kozu-chan @mayyhaps @jayathelostdragon @vi0let-writes @lavender-pink-socks @kodzumicyy @alcyneus @fi-chanwrites @mdmraz @uhsakusa @sophiahearttss @jnfectedz @ascebel @glads-stuff @freakypickle @anonymity-222 @aldebrana @shozuken @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @followingmysunsposts i

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vi0let-writes · 2 months ago

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𐙚 my hero (part 1)

୨୧﹒︵ ﹕ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵃˡˡᵒᵒⁿˢ/ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ — ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏⁿᵈ

or any weeknd song really

{spiderman!scaramouche x reader}

synops𝐢s → scara was many things to you—the cause of all your headaches, the stone in your shoe that could never seem to get out, the reason you go to sleep crying—but definitely, very obviously, you hated him. maybe 'hate' is strong, it's just some rivalry. and spiderman was the opposite of that. he was muscular, his suit tugging at his biceps and quadriceps you couldn't help notice. He was heroic, friendly—like you said, the opposite of scaramouche. But soon,the truth is revealed and you find out the secret identity of your superhero was actually your worst enemy?

cred𝐢ts → @enchanthings

wo𝐫d cou𝐧t→ 3.2k (very short ik. prt 2 will be longer, trust)

warn𝐢ng→ enemies to lovers, spiderman scara geheusisj, this au uses venom spiderman, slowburn, angst, kisses, mentions of alcohol, college au, reader is broke, pov switching, reader had a crush on tartaglia, cussing, mentions of other genshin characters, mentions of weed and alcohol, mention of abuse

autho𝐫 𝐧ote → and suddenly..... my pants are gone! not like I needed them. the way I've been dreaming about this ugh punch me. this was kinda rushed cuz I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. part 2 will be better thrust, so dont mind the mistakes. autocorrect them in your head

YOUR POV

the sun rose steadily, leaking into the blinds of a posh, high-rise building. already awake, you get up in your silk robs, preparing your waffles and freshly brewed coffee.

gently, you tipped the kettle filled with hot water into the coffee grounds and watched as the coffee ground melted into liquid. the aroma that filled the air alone able to make you smile.

this would've been your life. No, that could've been your life. if you were a nepo baby like scaramocuhe. instead of waking up like the star of a hit TV show. you woke up more like this: your hair disheveled as the sun hit you face first and all you can do is groan.

morning, yay.

instead of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee, you had instant coffee which had been left out for only god knows how long and two slices of toast with butter spread over each slice.

you chowed down your not-so-impressive breakfast before rushing out of your shabby apartment building for school.

you rushed to your campus and looked up at the massive school in front of you. you had seen your college almost everyday. after all, it was your senior year here— your last and final year—but the building in front of you still seemed to make you feel breathless.

you strutted forward to enter, but before you could, you heard a car honk and quickly moved out of the way before you could get hit and literally fucking die. what gives? you thought.

you watched as scaramouche, with his perfect stupid purple hair, came out of the car, sorry, his "sweet baby-porsche." as he called it. of course it was him who almost runned over you, you sneered

fuck, you just wanted to throw a ball at the clean glass windows of the porsche. but that would be a waste when you could throw it at his head.

you rushed to school and looked up at the massive school in front of you. massive was an exaggeration. you had seen your college almost everyday. after all, it was your senior year here. you last, and final year.

you strutted forward to enter, but before you could, you heard a car honk and quickly moved out of the way before you could get hit and literally fucking die. what gives? you thought.

you watched as scaramouche, with his perfect stupid purple hair, came out of the car, sorry, his "sweet baby-porche." as he called it. of course it was him who almost ran you over, you sneered.

fuck, you just wanted to throw a ball at the clean glass windows. but that would be a waste when you could throw it at his head.."hey, fuck face." scaramouche said as he walked up to you, hands in his pocket. "hey," you refrained from throwing any insults at him. "can you not drive or do you want me to file you for attempted murder?" you retorted. you wanted to sound as angry as you possibly can to maybe scare him, but all he did was chuckle.

"you dying would be the least of anyone's problem, you know?" you could've jumped on him and dug your sharp nails into his clear, porcelain doll skin. but you refrained from that too. you refrained from a lot of things. it was one of the things you admired about scara, he always spoke his mind.

like the time the teacher insulted you for your essay. he told the teacher that he should quit he can't see that your essay was a literal literary masterpiece. you wondered why he said that for you, he excused it saying your essay was actually trash but no one could insult you, unless it was him.

"I can believe I woke up today and still got to see your face. it hurts my ego." he jeered, looking at you to see your red face of anger and smiling at the sight. "anyways, I won't waste my precious time on you, see ya sweet cheeks."

it was a stupid nickname. in tenth grade, you had eaten a lot of food since you were rushing to get finish your group members part of the project since they happen to "forget" so you had to fill in their part—as you did for everyone else. scara so happened to be there and saw your full cheeks, pink, chubby and stuffed with sweet tatter-tots. earning the nicknames: sweet cheeks, squirrel and nut case.

you stomped off to class, face still red from his witty remarks. soon you met up with your best friend, lumine. she was the only reason why you hadn't been charged with murder with your face on the news with the headlines being: college girl kills enemy and famous model, scaramouche raiden. she always said the best things when you were angry at scaramouche. but today she was acting strange?

"hey, lumi!" you said in an happy tone before bringing her in for a hug. "hey, yn" she greeted you back with a smile which you reciprocated almost immediately. "are you ok? you seem a little heated."

it was true. when you entered you were mumbling some, concerning, things that would make your grandmother resurrect back from the dead from if she heard it.

"you wouldn't believe what scara did! the man is trying to kill me, i swear!" at the mention if scaramouche, lumines ears suddenly reddened and you raise a brow.

"hey... maybe he's not that bad of a—" you immediately cut her off. "not that bad of a guy? did he poison you?" you out a hand on her shoulder with a look of worry on your face. "did he.. hurt you?" you asked with a voice if weariness for your friend.

"no! but I spoke to him when he had that history project together and he wasnt... as insufferable as you say he is." was your friend drugged, drunk or just stupid? "that's because he doesn't hate your guts. listen lumine, if this is something you want to speak about we can talk about it, but after class."

lumine was your best friend. if it turned out she felt... something towards scaramouche then you wanted to support her. even though you wanted to lecture her on her bad taste in men and to stay away from him. you had to support her in this.

you entered class, as usual, looking down at your seat. your seats changed every week and you had the luck to be seated with tartaglia, your crush since eleventh grade.

when you had caught a fever during pe and he had generously carried you on his back to the nurses office. he even set there with you, throwing jokes at you as you say there transitioning between laughs and coughs. Ait made your heart flatter.

even though scara had, utterly, ruined your morning, maybe tartaglia could fix it. you sat down next to him which caught his attention. he smiled at you, warmly. so warm it could melt you like an ice cream during summer. "mornin', partner in crime." he greeted you, adding a sly wink. you wanted to make his greetings your morning alarms. no? too much?

get a grip, you screamed at yourself silently. "morning, ajax." you wanted to call him tartaglia as it was more... appropriate? but he asked you to call him ajax anyways. it was probably because you butchered his italian name when you pronounced it.

your italian was always faulty. while his was always perfect. the way he spoke it in glass felt like drowning yourself in rich, expensive, sweet wine. it felt romantic, like he was speaking some romantic shit when he said it. meanwhile he was just saying something like "does my toe look big?"

tartaglia was always his surname, so it made more sense to call him ajax. "did you do the project?" you asked, half expecting him to say no and make up an excuse that he forgot. "of course I did! I can't make you do everything. how would I call myself a man like that?" he joked. you laughed.

it wasn't a that funny, but you laughed anyways as he pulled out the report. it was a biology project on the study of sea animals and mammal's brains: do they work the same?. you two decided to chose a dolphins, as it was the smartest sea animal, and a cow. well you chose the dolphin, he chose the cow, which you found funny for no reason.

your presentation started smoothly, impressing your biology teacher, but not scara. towards the end, you were meant to conclude the same way you started—smart, smooth and intellectual—but for some reason you slipped. you accidentally made eye contact with scara, his eyes holding an unreadable emotion.

"in conclusion.....in...in conclusion..." you swallowed thickly. childe—ajax—nudged your shoulder gently, you looked up to see his worried expression. you gave him a reassuring smile in return.

in the end, childe concluded for you. you don't know why your mind suddenly went blank. it confused you the more you thought on it.

"you ok?" ajax had asked you still concerned. unlike scara's cat like glare, ajax had a more... puppy like expression. he reminded you of a golden retriever while scara had reminded you of a black cat.

"I'm fine childe—ajax. sorry, ajax." childe smiled at your fumble. but it wasn't an accident. you had called him childe so he could tell you it was ok to call him childe so it could seem like you two got closer. and it worked.

"it's ok. childe is fine." he had smiled at you again. he always smiled at you. and it always seemed to have some affect on you. but his smiled always seemed like a pity smile than an actual smile. and you didn't want childe to see you that way. you wanted him to see you as more.

"ok, childe." you said his name as if you were testing out the waters, but it seemed to roll of your tongue perfectly. he smiled again, this time his cheeks red. "hey yn," he called your name so sweet it sent shivers down your smile and volts coursed throughout your body. you felt electric.

you sat down at the librarian's desk, constantly flipping through pages of your favourite series—crime and punishment. it was peaceful, in an eerie way. the librarian had gone for a trip to New zealand to see her grand daughter.

you pulled your phone from your tote bag, scattering through your stuff before finding your phone. you powered it on and watched as the phone flashed into your eyes and there you saw the time, ten-fourty-seven (10:47)

it was due the library's closing time, so you stood up to leave, juggling the keys the librarian had left for you along with a sandwich she made herself and sticky note which reads, don't over work yourself while in time ;D. you giggled, it was cute. just as you found the right key to insert into the keyhole. CRASH.

the stack of bookshelves falling into eachother, books tipping over and landing in the floor. was this.... an earthquake? no, the building was collapsing. you quickly inserted the key inside, adrenaline rushing threw you, just as you heard the third click, the key broke. just great, you cursed internally.

you were gonna die. but not like this. you ran towards the back door, but bookshelves had tumbled over it. it was then that you say a hole small enough to fit a person. you were a person. you tried to find humour in your situation, but it didn't work.

you climbed over the bookshelves as multiple stones hit your body, scratch you as dust fell on your hair and shoulders. when you finally reached the top, you realised you weren't tall enough to reach it.

a wave of disappointment and fear washed over you. were you actually going to die? before you could ponder more on your enviable death you slipped and fell, hitting your head and lossing all of your conscience.

a hand held you firmly, and warmly too. you open your eyes to see you were inches away from land. you wanted to scream but then you realised you weren't getting crushed by the library roof?

you looked up to see your night and shining armour, only to see someone with a black mask, swinging from building to building with what seems like... black spider webs?

then realisation hit you. it was... spiderman? you only heard and saw him on news articles and tv but never in your life hand you once imagined he'd be here, carrying you bridal style across your campus. holding you so gently, so tenderly—

"ah, your awake." you friendly neighbourhood spider said and you felt a smile creep up underneath his mask.

"u–uh, um, yeah." you babbled a little too loud as if the wind would carry your words away. you were so high up you could see little people underneath yourself, and it was... magical? no, breath taking is a better way to describe it.

soon, spiderman dropped you in front of your university and swinged away, not without giving you a teasing wink which reminded you awfully a lot of someone else.

it seemed the black spider never left your head because you didn't pay attention to scaramouche mock you after class—you had done a test where you had gotten a 92 while he got a perfect 100. .his insults seemed to fly above your head as you thought of last night over and over again.

"earth to yn?" scaramouche snapped his fingers in front of your face and you were seemingly brought back to earth. scaramouche scoffed, a glint of mockery hidden in his eyes as he said, "is your head in the clouds or something?" he questioned coldy causing you to roll your eyes.

"you even forgot your speech half way during the assembly." it was true. as the student body president—and scara being the assistant—your expected to be perfect. but you looked and sure didn't feel perfect.

"shut up." you flip him off, which caused his eyes to widen, removing the nonchalant, mocky mask off and you something more pure in him. but he recovered with a smirk and soon it was back to the mask you were used to.

"didn't expect that, sweet cheeks." again with the nicknames. you were about to jump on him and rip his perfect silky, soft shirt off his scalp but then lumine walked towards you.

"lumi." you embraced her quickly. you had totally forgotten about yesterday. you barely had anytime since you were spending your lunch tutoring childe.

scara had gone elsewhere, which wasn't your concern. "omg yn are you—" you cut her off, hiding the bandages on your leg, but she already saw them and the one wrapped around your forehead wasnt easy to hide. "we have a lot of discussing to do."

SCARA'S POV

it was a normal monday night for scaramouche. he just finished talking to his mother who tried to make amends with his for all the times he had maltreated him.

failed efforts cause she only only ended up saying some pretty shitty and hurtful stuff. so now, scara was taking a walk around the campus. walking has always eased his mind temporarily. it felt like he was on the moon.

he decided to walk further outside the campus and walked pass a library a few minutes away from the school. about thirty minutes away and suddenly, scara felt that tingling sensation at the back of his skull, and all of his hairs rose.

right, temporarily.

he found a small space where no one would spot him and proceeded to removed his jacket and shirt and dug into his bag for his mask. yes, he wore his suit underneath his clothes. it made this hot, but he had no choice.

scara's mom knew a lot about him, but she didn't know this. she didn't know he was spiderman. the hero that everyone looked up to and praised. and apparently he acted a little different behind the mask.

he rushed to the library, climbing over it and spotting an opening. through there, he saw.. yn? he saw you, almost lifeless as a small pool of blood rushed out of your temple.

he moved quickly, grabbing your petite body, wrapping his arm so gently and steadily around your waist before shooting his black sticky web to the nearest building.

as he swung around he held you so tight so he couldn't lose you and let you fall down. then you opened your eyes, you curled eyebrows fluttering. "ah, your awake." he said, not sure what to even say now that you were awake.

"u–uh, um, yeah." you babbled loudly and scara help back a chuckled. like this, he could easily let you drop, but he didn't want to lose you. not like this.

he dropped you in front of the campus and swung away. not without giving you a wink. he didnt know what the wink meant. maybe childe was rubbing off in him.

scara jumped in through his window and threw his mask in the floor, kicked a metal chair—denting it—and groaned, not in pain, but in frustration.

you hated him. it was obvious when he stole your favourite barbie and chopped her blonde hair off, unevenly. it was obvious when he told your date for junior prom that your toes smelled and he bailed out in you. it was obvious today when you scowled at him like you wanted to wipe him out of this earth.

but the way you looked at him today, just now, was like you wanted him to hold you forever, in his arms. and he detested it.

scara sat down on the chair he just dented, sighing and man spreading as he slumped down in his seat. he ran a hand through his hair almost hopeless.

I mean he kind of was. he was in love with you, and he didn't know why. why when he was meant to hate you, he loved you. why the universe cursed him to want to protect you, and you alone.

it hurt. it hurt. it hurt....

"that girl... do you like her?" the deep monstrous voice spoke within scara. he jumped on impulse, immediately tucking at the black gooey monster glued to his suit, to his body.

but it failed, just like the other times. venom, as he liked to call it, controlled some of his thoughts, his movements. it took his so much will power to not eat yn. to not allow the symbiote from detaching himself from his body to eat yn's brains.

"it seems likely." it spoke again, making scara angrier by the second. the more it spoke the more scars to wanted to get it off him. fast.

he sat back down with an impact, sighed again, running a hand through his hair. just breathe. in and out... slowly... just like he told you..

"you know," jesus, fuck this. "you can just let me eat her if she doesn't want you. it would solve a lot of—" "can you just shut the fuck up?"

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