#They do give that vibe now that you mention it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlemons · 3 days ago

Text

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART TWO

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 2.2K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, unwanted groping, attempted SA, mentions of being roofied, mention of blood, physical violence, alcohol, clubbing, someone flashing a crowd, cussing

A/N ✦ I wrote part two a lot quicker than I thought I would, I'm actually really enjoying this story so far! Stay tuned for part three :)

PART ONE »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

“Would you get your head out of la-la-land and focus.”, Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

It had been three days since your interaction with Bucky, and you kept finding yourself daydreaming about him, wishing the handsome man would come back into the coffee shop soon.

“Sorry Nat.”, you said sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

Your friend stood in front of you in her bedroom, a tight purple dress clung to her figure.

“What do you think of this one?”

“You could wear a trash bag and still look amazing. But I think that I like the green one more.”, you said pointing to the silky cocktail dress she had tossed onto the bed next to where you sat.

“Well then I guess green it is.”

The two of you were at your and Nat's shared apartment, readying yourselves to go out for your mutual friend Thor’s birthday party. Nat considered herself a clubbing queen, she loved to be the life of the party. You on the other hand would prefer to be at home.

“Now little-miss-wallflower.”, Nat said pointing to you, “We need to put together something for you to wear.”

She had you try on outfit after outfit, repeatedly saying none of them had that oomph she was going for.

“Nat can I just wear this?”, you pleaded with her, gesturing to the long black bodycon dress she had put you in.

“No, that's not fitting the image I have in my head.”, she said, ruffling through the closet.

“And what exactly is that image?”

“I want a sexy, bold, outgoing vibe.”

“You know that being bold and outgoing aren’t exactly my thing, right?”

“Exactly, you need to get out of your comfort zone Y/N, live a little.”

After several more outfit changes Nat finally found the perfect ensemble. A red-wine colored dress adorned your body. Its neckline dipped dangerously low, reaching below your sternum and the bottom of the garment barely hit mid-thigh.

“Isn’t this a bit much?”, you asked, looking yourself up and down in the mirror.

“Not in my opinion.” she shrugged, “But anyways you look amazing so I say this is it.”

Staring at yourself again, you did have to admit the dress did make you feel hot.

“Okay fine, you win, I’ll wear this.”

Nat smiled from ear to ear, “Amazing! Now let’s finish getting ready.”

You added a pair of black heels to your outfit, straightened your hair, and Nat had helped you do a smokey eye for your makeup. After an hour of getting ready, the two of you were walking out the front door and heading downstairs to wait for your Uber.

After the quick car ride, you and Nat found yourselves outside a club, a bright blue neon sign reading Supernova sat above the front door. Both of you joined the line to get in. Once you reached the front, the bouncer checked your ID’s and stamped your hands with a shooting star that lit up under the flashing lights.

You scanned the club, glancing over the horde of people, before your eyes finally found who you were looking for. Grabbing Nat’s hand you pulled her behind you in the direction of your friends.

“Y/N! Nat!”, Thor cheered seeing the two of you approaching.

“Hi Thor! Happy Birthday!”, you yelled over the booming music, giving him a hug.

You then greeted your other friends; Wanda, and Clint. The group sat at a table near one of the many small stages scattered about the club. Each of the platforms had girls dancing on them. Your eyes quickly looked away as one of them took off her top, cheers erupting from the group of men standing below her. You felt beyond out of your element.

“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin Y/N.”, Clint chuckled at you.

You shrugged at him, “I think I just need to get a drink in me. I’ll be right back.”

Walking away from your friends you snaked your way through the throng of people dancing, reaching the bar.

The bartender, a girl with bright pink hair and several facial piercings, turned from the man she was talking to, yelling from the other end of the bar top, “Be with you in just a second!”

You nodded at her, looking up at the chalkboard menu sitting above many shelves of alcohol. Your eyes scanned over the neon pink chalk settling on the special for the night.

Tonight's Special: Midnight Whisper

⛦ vodka, blue curacao, grenadine, sprite, edible glitter

⛦ $11

You leaned up against the bar, studying your surroundings while you waited. Couples were dancing a little too close for comfort, there was a group of girls circling around one of their friends as she threw up in a trashcan by the dancefloor, a group of frat boys sang along to the music blasting through the club.

As your eyes glanced at the V.I.P. area, they widened in shock. Bucky sat in the corner, surrounded by Steve and a few more men. You locked eyes with him and he raised his glass towards you, shooting you a smile.

“What can I get for you?”

You jumped in surprise, turning to see the bartender.

“Can I get a Midnight Whisper?”

“Of course, that’ll be $11.”

Reaching inside your purse your fingers wrapped around your wallet, pulling it out to pay.

“I’ve got it.”, a voice said from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder seeing a man you didn’t know behind you.

“It’s okay really.”, you said.

“No, I’ve got it sexy, a lady with a body like yours shouldn’t have to pay.”, he smirked down at you.

He handed the bartender some cash.

“Um thank you.”, you said flatly.

“No problem, smoke show, I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”, you grumbled, not meaning it at all, but trying to be polite because he just bought you a drink.

“Here you go girly.”, the pink haired girl slid you your cocktail.

Caleb slid his arm around your shoulders, hand lingering over your drink. You were looking at his face as he did this, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Reaching for your drink, you turned away from him, “Thanks for the drink, I’ve got to get back to my friends now, they’re probably wondering where I went.”

Caleb’s hand shot out, gripping your bicep, “What do you mean you’ve got to go back to your friends? I just bought that for you, can’t you stay and at least talk to me for a bit?”

“First of all,let go of me.”, you hissed yanking your arm out of his grip, “And secondly I tried to pay for my own drink, but you insisted, I said thank you for it, but that doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”

You turned and weaved back through the crowd towards your friends.

As you approached Nat raised an eyebrow at you.

“What’s got you in such a sour mood.”, she said, studying your visibly pissed expression.

“Some dude bought my drink for me and acted like I owed him a conversation because of it.”, you rolled your eyes.

“I would be irritated too.”, Wanda said from beside you.

You laughed, “Anyway enough about that weirdo, guess who I just saw Nat?”

“Who?”

Grinning, you said, “That Bucky guy from work the other day!”

“Oh my God!”

“Who’s Bucky?”, Wanda asked.

You filled your friend in on the handsome man.

“Why don’t you go ask for his number?”, Clint said, eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Because he’s in the V.I.P area, and I don’t have the balls to do it.”, you laughed out, taking a sip of your drink.

Just then Thor appeared, having come from the dancefloor.

“Come on guys let's go dance!”, he yelled.

He grabbed your hand pulling you with him, the rest of your group following behind.

As you guys danced and drank, you began to feel weird. Your head was pounding and you were hit with a wave of nausea.

“I don’t feel good.”, you whispered to Nat, and you rushed to the bathrooms.

“Hey wait-”, she called after you.

You disappeared into the crowd leaving Nat behind, as you stumbled through bodies, your vision began to get blurry leaving you a disoriented mess. There was no way that one drink had done this to you.

Finally you reached the hallway in the back of the club that led to the bathrooms. You shakily leaned up against the wall, dragging yourself along the cool cinder blocks towards the ladies room. Suddenly you found yourself pushed up against the wall, your back smacking it so hard you almost felt the wind rush out of your lungs.

“Hi beautiful.”, Caleb jeered at you.

“What-”, you slurred out, tongue feeling heavy.

He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand, moving your lolling head back. His other hand settled on the back of your thigh, slowly creeping its way up, his fingers digging into your ass cheek. Your body was like Jell-O, you couldn’t move, leaving you defenseless. You felt tears begin to well in your eyes as you looked up at him.

Next thing you knew Caleb was lying flat on his back a few feet away and you crumpled sliding down the wall to the ground, your legs unable to support yourself.

“What the hell man!”, Caleb screamed, a cut to the side of his head had blood cascading down his face.

“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing.”, someone said.

You looked up at your savior, realizing it was the same man who had generously tipped you the other day.

“Oh what so a guy can’t feel up his girlfriend anymore?”, Caleb lied.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky said looking down at you, “Is this guy your boyfriend?”

“No.”, you gurgled out.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about! The bitch is just drunk!”, Caleb yelled as he stood up.

Bucky however knew that wasn’t the case. You were obviously out of it, but not from alcohol, you gave away the tell tale signs of being roofied.

After he saw you at the bar, he had been watching you. He saw your interaction with Caleb, almost getting up after the man had grabbed you, but relaxed when he saw you could handle it on your own. However when he saw you stumbling off towards the bathrooms and Caleb stalking after you, he stood up and followed the two of you, ignoring Steve asking him where he was going.

He had entered the hallway just as the slime ball had groped you, and without thinking, Bucky decked him in the head. In all honesty Bucky hadn’t felt this angry in a while. It pissed him off to no end, seeing Caleb taking advantage of you, the shy and sweet barista he had just met the other day.

“Y/N, oh my God what the hell happened?”, Nat appeared at the end of the hallway.

“This jackass drugged her.”, Bucky growled, nodding in Caleb's direction.

Nat moved towards the aforementioned jackass, but was stopped by Bucky putting his arm out.

“Let me deal with him. Get her up to the V.I.P area, let Steve know what happened.”

Nodding Nat moved down to the ground, throwing your arm around her shoulder and dragging you upwards. You stumbled as the two of you walked back down the hallway, out into the club. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Bucky nearing Caleb, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up.

Hazily you remember Nat heaving you to the V.I.P section. Steve immediately recognized the pair of you from the other day, and he jumped up helping Nat carry you to one of the couches. While they did so Nat explained the situation to him.

“Tony go get her some water.”, Steve told one of the other men that had been sitting with him.

The dark haired man turned and headed towards the bar with urgency.

“Y/N, Nat are you guys okay?”, you heard Clint shouting from the velvet rope sectioning off the V.I.P area from the rest of the club.

“Are those your friends?”, Steve asked looking at the group that had gathered.

“Yeah they are.”, Nat said.

“Hey guys let them up here.”

One of the security guards by the rope lifted it up and allowed your friends through.

“You know that guy from earlier she said was weird? Somehow he drugged her.”, Nat said to your friends.

“Where’s he at? What's he look like? I'm going to go kick his ass.”, Thor stated, turning to head back down to the dancefloor and hunt down Caleb.

“Someone else already beat you to it.”, Nat said pointing to Bucky who had returned from the hallway.

“Sam, Scott, can the two of you go get the mess in the hallway cleaned up?”, Bucky asked as he neared everyone.

“Gotcha.”, Sam nodded.

“What’d you do kill him?”, Nat asked gob smacked.

“No, just taught him a lesson about keeping his hands to himself.”, he said as he picked up a cocktail napkin from one of the tables, wiping blood off his knuckles.

Your vision started blurring again and the ringing in your ears drowned out any other sounds. The last thing you remember was Bucky looking at you worriedly before you finally passed out.

PART THREE

I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

82 notes · View notes

wwooyology · 3 days ago

Text

You're Mine Baby | K.YS

「pairing」 : ex bf!yeosang x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.2k

「synopsis」 : you and yeosang had been broken up for at least a year now, but when you come back to town and saw him with another girl it sets you off. he was only supposed to be yours and this time you were going to make sure that he understood that.

「genre」 : psychological horror/thriller, angst, dark romance, slight gore

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, DARK THEMES!!!, cussing, tiny bit of kissing, stalking, reader has SEVERE mental illnesses (she's just straight psychotic), gore, blood, murder, stabbing, use of a weapon (knife), name-calling (skank...), manipulation, threats, hitting/slapping, blackmail(?), reader is in love obsessed with yeosang, mentions of a therapist/mental hospital, EXTREME violence, petnames (my love, baby…), yelling/shouting, fighting, anger issues, gaslighting, reader lowkey gives off 'if I can't have you no one can' vibes, kidnapping, implied use of drugs/sedative, possessiveness, lmk if I missed anything bc I feel like I did…

「now playing」 : kill bill by sza

「notes」 : this is some dark shit so I HEAVILY advice you to carefully look over ALL of the warnings before you proceed with reading!! also if this isn't your type of thing that is perfectly fine, but please keep your unnecessary comments to yourself, thank you.

It was late afternoon when you found yourself sitting outside a cafe, an iced coffee sitting on the table in front of you as you stirred the ice around with your straw. However, your eyes were focused on the couple laughing away with each other on the other side of the window. Your eyes narrow as you watch the girl lean onto the male, anger coursing through your veins. That was supposed to be you, not some worthless skank.

How long has it been since you last saw Yeosang? Oh, right…it has been two years, six months, two weeks, and four days since you were coldly ripped from his arms. You could even recall the seconds, hours, and minutes as well.

You had hoped that whenever you were released that you would get the chance to reconcile with your ex-boyfriend. Yet as you learned of his new girlfriend the more that bitter taste in your mouth grew. So much so that you wanted nothing more than to get her out of the picture.

The straw in your hand made a pathetic sound as your fingers tightened around it, absolutely destroying the poor thing as you watched Yeosang lean over the girl and capture her lips in a kiss. Rage started to cloud your vision and you stood from your seat, the chair scraping the ground roughly.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The sound of the worker's voice drew you out of your intense haze, and you looked over at her with doe eyes. Seeing her glance down at your hand, you noticed that with the force of your abrupt standing, it caused some of your coffee to slosh around before splashing onto the surface of the table.

Swallowing thickly, you recalled your therapist's words, ‘Remember, y/n, don’t let your anger consume you. It will only cause you more trouble, and I would hate to see you back in here again.’

Letting out a shaky breath, you apologized to the girl before using a few napkins to clean up your mess. Whenever you were finished, you looked back over your shoulder only to find Yeosang and that wretched girl was gone. Grumbling lowly, you threw the soaked napkins away before grabbing your drink and storming off down the sidewalk.

“Of course, they just had to leave when I wasn’t looking. No worries though, I can find them.” You assured yourself as you took a sip of your slightly watered-down coffee from the new straw the worker had offered you.

That’s exactly what you did. You found them later that night at a movie theater. Then it was the food stall that was just right down the road from the school you and Yeosang had attended years ago before finally Yeosang took her home. You watched from across the road, hiding just beyond the shadows of two houses.

Disgust settled deep in your gut as you saw Yeosang pull her into a deep kiss, his hand against her lower back to pull her closer. Rage once again started to bubble in your gut the longer you watched until he finally pulled away, wishing her one last goodnight before walking off.

Eventually, this led to you following Yeosang around, no matter where he went or what time it was. You were there. You wanted to speak with him, tell him to leave that thing he calls a girlfriend so he could be with you once more, but you knew you couldn’t. He would run the moment he saw you.

So you needed a plan… A plan that would surely make him yours once again.

Then, one day, while you were walking a good distance behind them, you started to recognize the familiar path that they were taking. You hoped that he wasn’t taking her to the spot that he once showed you and promised to never bring anyone else. Yet when he rounded the corner to an all too familiar alleyway, you just knew.

You stopped dead in your tracks, fingers curling into fists at your sides as rage boiled over, flooding every single part of your body until you saw nothing but crimson red. Then you knew… knew it was time to put your plan into action.

It was such a simple plan, really, and your poor, sweet ex-boyfriend was just as clueless as always. He didn’t even bat an eye whenever he received a gift of an all-paid vacation rental from his ‘friend.’ You watched from afar like you’ve done for the past two months, watching as he happily packed all his bags with his happy-go-lucky girlfriend. The sight made you sick, really; how could he be so happy with something like that? Only you truly knew what he deserved, and that was you, of course.

After the lights turned off in his girlfriend's apartment, you made your trek back to your car. All you had to do now was wait for that perfect moment to strike, then he’d be yours again.

—

Yeosang awoke with a groan. The back of his head was throbbing. However, upon trying to reach for his head, he noticed that he couldn’t move his hands. His eyes flew open as he pulled at his restraints after noticing that he was tied to a chair.

‘What’s going on?’ Was all he could think as he tried his best to recall what had previously happened. He and Yoonmin were sitting in the living room, watching a movie, when suddenly the lights went out. He couldn’t remember much of what happened next, it was far too dark, but he did remember feeling an excruciating pain in the back of his head before everything went black.

His eyes then wandered around the room until they fell on the unconscious girl who sat tied to a chair just a few feet in front of him. Panicked, he thrashes around in his seat, but the knots in the rope are far too strong and way too tight for him to break free of. Not only that, but his limbs all felt like jelly, and his muscles were not working the way they were supposed to.

Hearing noises from the other room you sat down the mug of warm tea that sat in your hands, a borderline psychotic smile spreading across your face. Walking into the next room over your steps, light but happy, this is what you’ve been waiting for after all.

“Well, lookie who decided to finally wake up.” You greeted the male happily, making slow strides into the room.

Yeosang’s head snapped in your direction, his eyes blown wide and pupils dilating in anger and fear. Seeing you again was as if he had woken up in his own personal hell, one that he knew he wouldn’t escape from, but he would be damned if he didn’t try.

“Y/n, what the hell is wrong with you? Let us go!” He shouted, arms still roughly pulling at his restraints. Hearing words caused you to stop dead in your tracks, your smile completely wiped off of your face.

He should be happy to see you, not angry. Not with so much hatred in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense, but then you heard a small groan from the other side of the room. Your eyes narrowed into slits as you looked over at the girl. She must have brainwashed him. That had to be it. There would be no other reason Yeosang would even dare to look at you with such contempt.

The clicking sound of your tongue breaks the deathly silent room, the floorboards creaking with each step you take toward the girl. Once she was fully conscious and saw you walking towards her, she started thrashing around in her chair, trying to escape, but to no avail. Yeosang shouts and pleas for you to stop filled the room as you roughly grabbed the girl’s hair, yanking her head back.

“Why are you doing this to us? We did nothing wrong!” The girl weeps as she looks up at you, silent pleas filling her eyes, but you can’t help but scoff at her words.

With a scowl, you yanked her head back until she was looking up at you fully. “Nothing wrong? Nothing. Wrong?” A crazed laugh fell from your lips as if she had said the funniest thing in the world. After a few short moments, your laughter stopped, and your face fell stoic.

Yeosang watched in fear and disbelief as you leaned into the girl's face until you were merely inches away.

“You’re anything but innocent.” The words came out in a growl, your grip on her hair tightening causing her to cry out, more tears streaming down her face. Your wide eyes then studied the girl's face, taking in every little detail that you could possibly find. However, the longer you looked, the more aggravated you became.

What in the world could possibly be so good about her?

Yeosang’s breath hitched, and his yelling stopped as you turned your head to look back at him. A violent chill ran down his spine at the crazed gleam in your eyes. He knew this look all too well after spending years with you, the very look that meant disaster would strike if nothing was done to stop it.

The corner of your lips twitched as you maneuvered yourself next to the crying girl before yanking her head up so she was looking at Yeosang. “Tell me Yeo… What's so good about her? Huh?” Your voice gradually grew in volume, “What does she have that I don’t?” Yeosang shouted at you to stop once more as you pulled on the girl's hair eliciting a pained cry from her lips. “What the fuck makes her so much better than me?”

You couldn’t possibly understand. He had promised you that he would wait until you were released so you could be together again. ‘Why did he go back on his word? Why would he lie to you like that? Why? Why? WHY?’ Thoughts started to cloud your mind, and your sanity slowly started to drift away as you teetered on the edge of the deep.

Yeosang opened his mouth to speak, hoping to calm the situation like he had so many times in the past, but before he could even utter a word, his poor little girlfriend beat him to it.

“Because I’m not a fucking lunatic like you!” She shouted, spitting in your face and causing your whole body to freeze. At those words, that last little push was given, and something inside of you snapped, a small laugh leaving your lips.

Noticing that something wasn’t right, Yeosang pulled against his restraints, “Wait, wait, y/n! She didn’t mean it!” He tried to reason with you as you slowly stood straight, your hold on her hair slipping until your hand dropped back down to your side.

“Of course, I meant it, Yeosang. Do you not see her?!” She shouted at the male, who pleaded with her to stop talking, but she, of course, didn’t get the hint. “I don’t know why she was let out. I mean, look at her, she’s a total fucking nutjo–”

Before she could even finish her sentence, your hand collided with the side of her face, damn near knocking the chair over. A shrill cry of pain left the girl's lips as you slapped her once again, sobs raking her body. Yeosang screamed and thrashed in his restraints, begging you to stop, but you just glared at him.

“Pulling on those restraints is pointless. You can’t get out.” Your eyes were wide as a smile spread across your face, an idea coming to mind. Walking away from the sobbing girl, you make your way over to the table with a slight skip in your step.

“Yoonmin, look at me. We’re gonna be okay, I promise.” Yeosang tried to comfort the girl, who nodded, her hair a mess as she looked over at him. His words pulled a laugh from your lungs as your fingers wrapped around the hilt of a large kitchen knife.

“Oh, Sangie, you should know better than to give empty promises.” You pouted, dragging the blade off the table, allowing the sharp scraping sounds to echo around the room. Yeosang looked over at you with a glare until he saw the knife in your hand, his whole body going rigid. “There’s no one coming to save you. You are on vacation, after all.” A small chuckle fell from your lips as you neared Yoonmin, her whole body trembling as she shook her head profusely, “No one is going to find you… At least not for a while.” You covered your mouth as a borderline psychotic laugh racked your body.

You rounded the girl's seat, pointing the blade dangerously close to her face until you stood behind her. Then, in the blink of an eye, your hand was tangled in her hair once again, yanking her head back until her throat was fully exposed. Yeosang’s eyes widened as he lurched forward, begging you to stop and put the blade down as he tried once again to get out of his restraints, but just like all of the times before, he failed. However, as soon as the blade's sharp edge made contact with her skin, you stopped, a sinister smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Y/n, please.” Yeosang cried out, tears of his own blurring his vision. He knew that one wrong move could easily end Yoonmin’s life, and he also knew that he had very limited time to act. “You’re here for me, right? Let her go, and I promise I’ll go with you. Just let her go, y/n, please.”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare as you pressed the blade further against the girl's neck, choked sobs racked her body as she tried to shy away from it. However, your grip was far too strong for her to go against.

“Oh my love,” You tilted your head, expression changing to one of pity as you looked at him, “we both know I can’t do that. You see, as long as this skank is alive, you’ll never fully be mine, and we can’t have that.” Your words alone were enough to send a chill down the male’s spine, but he wasn’t going to give up as he continued to try and negotiate with you, but it proved fruitless. “Can’t you understand it, Yeosang? I’m the only one you need. I’m the only one who loves you, who is truly right for you. Not some watered-down rat you found on the street.” You growl, pressing the blade just far enough to break the first layer of skin; bright crimson-red blood seeped out, running down her heaving chest.

Growing even more aggravated, you told Yeosang to just say goodbye before starting to drag the blade across the girl’s skin.

“No, no, please y/n! NO!” Yeosang shouted, but it was useless; with precise movements, you had sliced the girl’s neck wide open. Blood sprayed out of the gaping wound as she struggled to intake any air. Your hand became covered in the thick liquid as you laughed maniacally.

Yeosang could only sit there in shock, tears streaming down his pale face as he watched the life drain from his girlfriend's body until she fell limp in her chair. “H-How could you?” He choked out, looking up at you as you wiped your face with your forearm but only managed to smear more blood. “Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?!” Sobs fell from his lips as he shouted at you, but you could only shake your head.

You slowly walked over to him, your hands behind your back as you playfully swung the knife around. “One day, you’ll understand Sangie, but she had to die. That’s the only way you would be mine and mine alone. I didn’t want to kill her, but that was the best way to do it.” You pouted as you finally reached him, bending at the waist to look at him.

“This is wrong, y/n.” Yeosang’s voice shook as he stared at you in nothing but unadulterated fear. He knew that you would never physically hurt him, but you definitely had your way around it.

A pained expression fell upon your features as you reached out to him, cupping his cheek in your hand despite him trying to back away. “I just love you so much, Sangie, I can’t stand seeing you with other people. It just hurts me so much, and I’d rather die than be without you.”

“That’s not love, it’s an obsession.”

“Oh, but Sangie, you know deep down that you belong with me. Even your sweet mother knows that.” You spoke softly as your fingers tightened around his chin, “I would absolutely hate to see something happen to that poor woman.”

Yeosang felt his blood run cold at the mention of his mother, eyes growing wide as you pulled your phone out of your pocket. After a few taps, you turn the device around to show Yeosang the screen. Even though the smeared blood on the screen, he could very clearly tell that it was his mother, humming to herself in the kitchen while she cooked dinner.

Fear sunk its claws even deeper into his bones as he took in the unsettling smile that was on your lips. He was trapped.

“Now… are you going to be a good boy and listen to me? I’m only doing this for your own good, baby; I hope you understand that.” Your voice was sickeningly sweet as you cooed at him, your phone placed back into your pocket.

Yeosang knew that he didn’t have any other choice but to agree with you. It was the only way he could guarantee the safety of those around him. His pain-filled eyes flickered back over to the dark-haired girl's lifeless form before shifting his gaze back up to you.

“I’ll go with you, but you have to promise that you won’t hurt anyone else.” He begged, tears still spilling down his face, now mixing with the blood on his chin from your stained hand.

Shaking your head with a click of your tongue you brought the blade up to your face, waving it from side to side, eyes trained on the crimson cover metal. Then your eyes moved back over to meet Yeosang’s.

“That will all depend on if you can behave, my love. Be good, and no one else will get hurt.” Your tone was kind, but there were undertones that indicated that your words were anything but a bluff.

His heart pounded in his chest as he swallowed thickly, “I’ll behave, I promise.” He told you reluctantly, and he felt goosebumps litter his skin when a bright smile spread across your face.

Reaching forward, you cupped his face once more before leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “We’re gonna be the happiest couple in the world, Sangie, I love you so much!”

It was then that it finally set in that he was trapped with nowhere else to run. His most terrifying nightmare had actually come true, but unlike those wicked dreams, he couldn’t wake up from this one.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒��𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

46 notes · View notes

cloud-the-forgotten · 2 days ago

Text

WAIT NO I CAN'T CHOOSE-

Okay okay- this is technically propaganda? For the both of them?? Uh. (Big?) Spoilers below (because it is SO HARD to explain without giving context unfortunately D:)! (Also!! Mentions of self-harm!! You have been warned!!!)

Both of these songs give off the perfect vibes for their situations. (I'll use bold to signify the start of me talking about each song respectively!)

'I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME' is for when Siffrin is on his last legs (both physically and mentally)- he doesn't want his (found) family to leave him behind. He doesn't want to be alone, especially when he doesn't have a place TO call home anymore. His home is (technically) gone, along with all of his memories of it. And he actually found a family (found family :D) with the group he joined to save the country. He doesn't want them to leave- he doesn't want them to forget him- and he doesn't want to forget THEM. So when Siffrin gets to his last loop in Act 5, hearing the Head Housemaiden remind him that Everyone Will Be Going Their Separate Ways Since The Country Is Saved Now, he snaps, and before the resulting 'fight' he thinks "I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME." The name of the song!!!

During the fight 'I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME' plays in, there's actually an option for Siffrin to hurt himself instead of his friends/family, the '(Don't attack)' 'craft' with the description "Can't hurt them. Attack the only person left." and that really shows how much he cares about them, to have the option of hurting himself because he doesn't want to hurt the people he loves. (You can, in fact, attack them, but the option to Not attack them is very present and will progress the fight/story as well.) I would explain more but I don't want to explain any more than necessary. I don't want to explain EVERYTHING and spoil the whole game for people >w<

'How Can You Help Me, Stardust?' is less focused on Siffrin, and more focused on Loop, the 'friendly' guide that appeared to help Siffrin end the loops, and be someone to talk to about the loops in general. It's an optional secret boss fight that you can do, but it reveals a lot of things! Loop is Siffrin- well, an alternate version of Siffrin, that didn't have a guide and struggled heavily before giving up after defeating the King for the first time after THOUSANDS of loops and looping back. Loop wished for a way out of the loops, they wished for an end, they wished for someone to help them.

This wish allowed Loop to escape from their loops, only to be changed to the way they look now, and placed in another Siffrin's loops to help that Siffrin out. When Siffrin (the one the player plays as) finally escapes/breaks the loops, Loop gets angry/jealous and initiates a fight. As the fight continues (and you repeatedly 'defeat' Loop, just for them to loop back) you get dialogue and a fighting portrait change of Loop explaining their feelings and breaking down, in a sense.

'How Can You Help Me, Stardust?' perfectly remixes 'How Can I Help You, Stardust?' in a way that encapsulates the sort of despair that Loop must have felt during their loops, and the anger of watching Siffrin break/escape his loops, something they weren't able to do.

Video Game Track Bracket Semifinals

I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME from In Stars and Time

youtube

vs.

How Can You Help Me, Stardust? from In Stars and Time

youtube

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Note: The propaganda may contain spoilers for In Stars and Time.

I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME:

siffrin.

1. It ties in recurring melodies from all throughout the soundtrack 2. It perfectly sets the mood for the scene and feels climactic 3. I cannot explain how much this song emotionally impacts you if you've played the game 4. It's just such a good song 5. Siffrin

only song in the soundtrack with an all caps title. the intended emotion is gained from sobbing shouting that fucker out

has motifs from all over the game including the title theme AND game over theme

a little harder to convey the emotion without the context of the game but it still does good

How Can You Help Me, Stardust?:

It's the battle theme during a Secret Ending fight, and an interesting genre-swap/remix of How Can I Help You, Stardust? Your character (Siffrin) fights his ally and guide through the time loops he's been stuck in. Its so intense and fast paced compared to the tone for the rest of the game's ending and really emphasizes the absolute stress and despair that being in a timeloop will cause.

youtube

#back at it again making (practically) essays about my hyperfixations /positive /silly #CACKLING over that kazoo cover of hcyhms. that's ABSOLUTELY hilarious :D #voting for hcyhms because the notes said that it was behind #anyway *posts this and immediately disappears for the next few hours*#rebloop <3 #polls #isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #poll propaganda #<technically?

179 notes · View notes

mugglebornmarvelite · 19 hours ago

Text

Flirting with Disaster

Paring: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader (Brother's bestfriend)

Summary: You're about to go on the first real date you’ve had in years, and the nerves are hitting hard. So, you turn to the one person who might help: Peter Parker, your brother’s best friend.

Word Count: Roughly 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, anxiety around dating, mentions of insecurities, unrequited/complicated feelings, cringe-worthy moments

Note: I’m planning on making this a three-part or a four-part. Let’s see. Oh, and I've been away from my usual shenanigans, so I am going to post twice this weekend :)

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

You sat cross-legged on your bed, phone in hand, as if looking at it too long might make it spontaneously combust. The flutter in your stomach definitely wasn��t from hunger.

No, tonight was the night—a real date. A proper date with an actual guy.

And the thought of it had you wanting to crawl under your blankets and pretend the world didn’t exist.

Your friends were all in your corner, practically sending you a virtual pep squad of texts: You got this! Go for it, girl! But deep down? You felt more like a deer in headlights. Spiraling towards your impending doom.

You weren’t ready. Mentally? Nope. Emotionally? Not even close. Physically? Definitely not.

Flirting? Kissing? Oh God. It felt like you were about to attempt something far more complicated than rocket science, like you needed a PhD in how to act normally around a guy just to get through the night. And if anything even remotely intimate was on the horizon? Yeah, that sent you straight back to high school, where you could barely look at a guy without tripping over your own feet.

Talking to your brother about this? No way. He’d send you a full PowerPoint presentation on how awkward you were, followed by an Excel spreadsheet of potential embarrassing scenarios. Your mom? She’d tell you how beautiful you were and then proceed to give you every single detail of her first date with your dad, including the color of the sweater she wore and the exact type of pasta they had.

Which left you with one option.

Peter.

Peter freakin’ Parker.

He’d been your brother’s best friend since before you could remember. Still, somewhere along the way, he’d gone from being that cocky, arrogant, too-cool-for-school guy and literal genius whose favorite pass time was annoying you to someone who made your heart do a little flip every time he looked at you. The messy hair. The cocky grin. The snarky vibe that screamed I’m cooler than you, and you were just you. Awkward. Nerdy. And definitely, the girl who’d had an intense crush on him when you were younger, an embarrassing crush at that. But, for the record, you had mostly gotten over.

Mostly.

But now, with the date creeping closer and your nerves flaring up like fireworks in your chest, you were desperate. You needed help.

So you hit dial.

“Hey, little peach.” His voice slid through the phone like melted chocolate, smooth and warm, and the kind that made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t know how to process.

“Hi, Peter,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, trying and failing miserably.

“Long time, no talk. What’s up?” His voice was laced with that familiar mischief, the one that hinted he knew something was off but was enjoying every second of the suspense. “Don’t tell me you burned down your kitchen trying to make some sad excuse for pasta and now you’re too embarrassed to call the fire department? Because, if so, I’ll happily dress up as a fireman and fulfill that fantasy for you.”

You stammered, and he laughed. Loudly.

“You’re hilarious, asshole,” you grumbled.

“I try.” He chuckled. You could practically hear his smirk. “So what’s the emergency? Need bail money? Lemme see, petty theft? Destruction of public property? Actually, scratch that, even you wouldn’t pull something like that, peach.”

Peach. That damn nickname. It hit you like a sucker punch of nostalgia. You remembered summers spent trailing behind him and your brother, trying to act like you were calm and cool while you tripped over your own feet just trying to keep up with them.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to sound like you had it together. “Uh, I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Peter’s tone shifted instantly, a little more serious now. “Everything okay? You’re not in actual trouble, right?”

Panic crept up your spine. Why had you called him? This was so stupid. But here you were, spilling your guts anyway.

“Uh, yes. No. I mean…” You sighed, your voice wavering. “I have a date,” you muttered, hoping he wouldn’t hear the tremble in your voice. “It’s tonight. And I’m freaking out. Like majorly.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then, that unmistakable chuckle, the one that made you want to punch him. “Wait. Hold on. You? Freaking out about a date? I didn’t know you had it in you little miss awkward. You?” His voice dragged out the last word like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, thanks for the support, asshole,” you muttered. “You’re just gonna mock me, aren’t you? This was a waste of time.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, regretting the entire call. You were better off canceling the date and hiding in your apartment with a Netflix binge and a pint of ice cream.

This was just as humiliating.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” you mumbled. “Bye-”

“Hey, hey,” Peter interrupted. His tone softened, just a little. “I’m sorry for laughing, okay? But you know I can’t help it.”

You huffed, but something in his voice made you hesitate.

“But seriously, you? Nervous?” His voice was almost affectionate now, though he still sounded like he was having way too much fun with this. “Baby, you’re smart, you’re funny when you try, and last time I checked, you grew up gorgeous. What’s there to be nervous about, hm?”

Your heart did that weird skip thing, and you cursed your traitorous body. Baby.

He didn’t even know what he was doing to you when he said it. He said it like it was nothing—like it didn’t even matter. But it hit you harder than it should’ve.

"Easy for you to say," you snapped back, but even as you tried to sound annoyed, there was a softness creeping into your voice. “It’s been forever since, you know, I’ve had to, like, flirt or kiss or whatever. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

There was a long pause. Then, Peter’s voice came through, low and laced with mischief. “Wait a second. Are you asking me to teach you how to flirt? I’m honored, peach.”

“What? No!” You nearly dropped the phone in your panic. “I…wait! No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, but now I have to,” Peter said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Come over. I’ll help you practice. Flirting, kissing, whatever you need.”

You gaped at the phone, heat rushing to your face. “You can’t be serious.”

“Come on, peach,” he continued a dangerous lilt in his tone. “You used to trust me with everything. Like that time you tried to ride my skateboard when you were, what, ten? You ate it so bad I thought your brother was gonna faint. But I carried you home, dried your tears, and made you laugh instead of cry. You know I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, cringing at the memory. You’d been ten, desperate to prove you weren’t just the annoying little sister of his best friend. You’d failed miserably, but Peter hadn’t laughed at you. Well, at least, not until after he made sure you were fine.

"Oh my god," you muttered, cringing at the thought. "I was a mess back then."

Peter’s voice softened, but that smirk was still there. "You were adorable, though. Adorable," he teased, his voice dripping with something almost affectionate. "Especially with those rainbow bandages on your knees. I swear, I could’ve sold tickets to that disaster."

“Don’t remind me,” you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“So, come on over,” he pressed. “I’ll give you a crash course. I’m talking flirting 101, kissing for dummies, the whole shebang. You can thank me later.”

You bit your lip, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you were blushing from memory or how his words made your stomach flip.

You hesitated for a second. This was ridiculous.

"Peach, you still with me?" His voice broke through your thoughts. "What's your decision?"

But you sighed, giving in. “Alright,” you said before you could stop yourself. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Good girl,” Peter purred into the phone, and you froze. His voice sent a shock through your system that left you breathless. Suddenly, the whole flirting crash course didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

You knew he was messing with you, but it didn’t stop your skin from flushing.

You stared at your phone, wondering what you’d just gotten yourself into.

Peter Parker was going to help you with your love life. No big deal, right?

You weren’t that kid anymore. You definitely didn’t have a crush on Peter Parker.

“Don’t give me that look,” you glared at your stuffed animal as it silently judged you with its big brown eyes. “I don’t have a crush on him anymore.”

That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

Mostly.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @ficcharsimp

Much love x

- Maeve

27 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 3 hours ago

Text

Fic Finder

Jan 10th

~*~

1. Hi! Happy New Year! I hope 2025 is a blessed year for you all!

For FF: I read a LJY/LSZ fic a couple years back and I thought i bookmarked it but can’t find it now. It’s where LJY developed a voice cultivation(?). He was not vibing with any instruments so he used his voice. He also almost die saving LSZ on a night hunt. Both became quite a legend themselves among the juniors and guest disciples.

Thank you for all your hard work! @bitemepotter

FOUND? anyway, here’s wuji by kakikaeru (T, 18k, ZhuiYi, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence)

~*~

2. Heya, looking for a fic but only remember one little thing about it. It had a scene where Jiang Yanli and Jin Guangyao had tea and JYL ended up poisoning JGY. I think she might have been testing him but he failed it but I'm not sure if it was this one or some other fic :')

~*~

3. Happy new year! Thank you for all your help. I have a fic finder request, please! The story was a long canon au with red-string-of-fate soulmate mechanics. Lan Zhan and Wei Ying followed their string to meet during the Cloud Recesses lectures, but Wei Ying cut it during the golden core transfer (or maybe the transfer... withered it? blackened it? I can’t remember). The fic then picks up when Wei Ying is brought back to life and the red thread forms between them again, allowing Lan Zhan to find Wei Ying again. I would love to read this story again! If anyone has any clues, please share. Thank you!

FOUND? the heartlines on our hands by occultings (microcomets) (E, 47k, wangxian, Soulmates AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, First Time, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death)

~*~

4. HI! For the FF: I saved a great line from a fic but *didn't* save the title, so now that I want to re-read the fic, I'm stumped. Thank you and the Hive Mind for any help. The line is: A-Ran had flung himself at A-Yuan like he was a landslide and A-Yuan was a badly built village. @songscloset

~*~

5. Hey yall! I hate to add to your load, especially when I know it’s a fic you’ve found before, but scrolling through I can’t seem to find that silly fic where lxc was in denial about wangxian’s marriage and kept giving lwj marriage offerings. Hopefully it’ll be easy for you to find since I know I saw it on this blog

FOUND? happy not knowing by plonk (Not Rated, 16k, WangXian, Canon Era, Canon Divergence, Established Relationship)

~*~

6. Hello lovely mods, I think I'm losing my mind. I saw two wangxian fics on ao3 recently that I planned to come back to but then couldn't find again with (various permutations of) the same tags. Did I dream them? Halp!

A) First fic: it was a modern au, something about fashionista LWJ, and WWX in a dress or feminized in some way. I think it was a PWP where it starts with them going out to dinner but may be mistaken on that point.

B) Second fic: time travel fix it but it's jin guangyao traveling back. There's something about how he'll do anything to make lan xichen smile, and that's how wwx becomes his problem. In the notes it mentions how jin guangyao remains as morally grey as ever, or something like that.

Do these stories exist outside of my head??!

TIA ❤️ @themoonmothwrites

6B)

FOUND? Shards of Hope by Dreaming_Days (T, 89k, XiYao, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Redemption, Character Study)

~*~

7. Hello. I search a fic but i just remember a moment of the fic + some infos: Wei Wuxian is taken in by the clan Lan after have been too much punished by Madam Yu. He's betrothed to Lan Zhan, adopted by the Lan Clan and at a point adopt baby Yuan. The scene that i remember is when Madam Yu visits Guzu and sees Wei Wuxian (with A-Yuan in his arms) and she uses Zadian at him. Huaisang, who was there, protect Wei Wuxian and is hurt by the whip. After that, both Madam Ju and Jiang Cheng have problem with both the clans Nie and the Lan. Thank you for you help.

FOUND? Consequences by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 58k, WangXian, XiSu, XuanLi, Canonical Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Good Uncle LQR, WWX is a Lan, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Bad Parents JFM and YZY)

~*~

8. Hi, I'm looking for a fic where gusu lan elders mind control WWX or smth into following all the rules when LWJ wasn't around.

I think it was a rec on wangxianficrecs but I can't find it anymore. It had an excerpt like, Sizhui was leading LWJ into the Jingshi and WWX was sitting at the table with perfect posture and stuff. Sizhui said smth like, " He's not hurt but acting weird." @shylurker111

FOUND? Perfect to Me by theearlymorningmist (T, 12k, WangXian, Protective LWJ, Good Uncle LQR, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Gusu Lan Elders Bashing, Curses, WWX is Loved, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Good Nephew JL, Protective JL)

~*~

9. Hi so I'm trying to find a podfic that I have no idea what the name is and I really want to listen to it so here's what I remember lwj's big brother was awake and doing some stuff in the kitchen or whatever and wondering why his little brother is not awake yet so he goes to his baby brother's room trying not to feel guilty about it because he knows that his brother wakes up at the same time as him 5:00 a.m. you know at the jazz and so when he opens his door he sees his brother and wwx in this bed curled up together I was like very confused until later where they explained that wwx got kicked out by madam yu for something or another and that I don't remember and so wwx stays with them until they go to college it's a modern au @constancebloodstone

FOUND? Found Family by fyredancer (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Getting Together, POV Outsider, Dysfunctional Family, Coming Out, Bad Parenting, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings, [Podfic of] Found Family by Fyredancer by AuntieIroh)

~*~

10. Hi! I want to find ff which is about wwx being traumatized because of zidian and he is also scared of storms/lighting (?). there was some kind of scene after he punched peacock in face that madam yu was about to punish him however lan wangji protected him. thanks a lot!

FOUND? Thunderstorm in the Library Pavilion by ZamaShines (M, 22k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parent YZY, Abusive YZY, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Whipping, Astraphobia, phobia - thunder, Thunderstorms, Panic Attacks, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, WWX Needs a Hug, and gets the hug, Good Sibling JC, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

~*~

11. Hello! For Fic Finder please: I am looking for a fic (possibly two) where Wei Wuxian played GusuLan music during the Phoenix Mountain hunt, which other disciples recognized and they all clamored "why do you know Gusu folk music?" I think I might be confusing two fics though, and if either or both could be found that would be great! In my first thought WWX used Lan musical cultivation songs to help on the hunt (maybe to calm down crazed disciples?) and the Lan disciples got angry that an outsider knew Lan sect secret music. The other thought is that it was when WWX was blindfolded and resting in the tree he played Lan folk music, and I think a commotion was caused by disciples thinking he was trying to seduce Jiang Yanli but Madame Jin defends him saying she recognized the songs and that they were harmless. I can't remember if these two scenes came from the same fic or from two separate fics. Any help would be much appreciated, thank you! @gloriousclotpole

~*~

12. it's a fic where WWx, JC, and JFM are on a night hunt and everything goes wrong, JFM dies and JC's golden core is destroyed, YYZ has WQ do a golden core transfer, and after WQ takes WWX back with her against YYZ will. Meanwhile WN steals WWX body camera which recorded the whole process

FOUND? 🧡🔒 Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 178k, WangXian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX, caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

~*~

13. For ff please! I am looking for a canon-divergent au where Wei Wuxian was some kind of creature shapeshifter, and his animal instincts gave him pack instincts which in turn caused him to fuss over and mother many of his same-age companions (like Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Wen Ning, I think Jin Zixuan and a few others). I feel like this kept cropping up at the Gusu Lectures because the other sects didn’t know Wei Wuxian was a shapeshifter so everyone thought he was just a mother hen-type friend. At some point he whipped out some territorial/protective mothering and protected the students against … someone? Maybe on a night hunt? I can’t remember. Any thoughts? Thank you!

~*~

14. I am looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian hid in Lotus Pier after the Sunshot Campaign. With Jiang Cheng's help he disguised himself as a frail woman and the cover story was that "she" was a Jiang cousin or something, come to take refuge. I think Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng even pretended to get engaged to further the disguise. Everything was revealed comedically at a Jin conference where *shock and awe* Wei Wuxian couldn't help himself from flirting with Lan Wangji. Would love to read this again!

FOUND? By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal) this one is similar, except it's not after the Sunshot Campaign, it's when WWX wakes up in MXYs body, except MXY did the ritual a bit too early and as a result, WWXs soul isn't properly seated in the body so he's frail / though wwx & jc are assumed to be engaged, rather than pretending to be

~*~

15. Hello, I am looking for a fic where LZ and WY first meet at some kind of music summer camp as teenagers. LZ quickly decides that they are dating, while WY is under the impression that they’re a camp-only couple. Every year, LZ also has a detailed schedule of things to do together since they can’t see each other for long. They eventually clear up their relationship status misunderstanding and go to college together. Thanks!

~*~

16. Okay, I've been looking for this fic for the last few days, but I really need some help. So WangXian are arranged married, I'm very sertain it's canon divergent and the war doesn't/hasn't happened yet. WWX tries very much to become a productive member of the Lan clan, but his efforts are unappreciated, and the only thing he's allowed to help with is some basic talisman that any junior can do. He can't leave because he doesn't want to shame the Jiangs and also doesn't have any money because Madame Yu negotiated his marriage contract to put him at a disadvantage. LWJ doesn't yet know how to defend WWX and doesn't go against his family, but he eventually realizes that he hasn't been a good husband and cries about it to LXC because he doesn't know what to do. In the end, WWX secretly tries to destroy Lan Yi's Yin metal and wad willing to sacrifice himself because it's the only thing he believes he is useful for, LWJ stops him and it ends about there.

FOUND? Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

17. Hiyaaaa I am back with another request hehe. It's where Wei Ying thinks that Lan Zhan is dead and then he dreams about Lan Zhan a lot during the 16 years of his punishment (because he turns himself in to the sects). But then he was invited to the Nie sect by Nie Huaisang and he actually meets Lan Zhan who is alive and he still thinks that he is dreaming and breaks down in front of Lan Zhan, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue and Lan Zhan looks at his brother with betrayed eyes because Lan Xichen hid the fact that Lan Zhan is alive from Wei Ying deliberately. Thanks!!!! @yilinglaobunny

~*~

18. Not sure if it was on AO3 or here on tumblr (although I have a feeling that the latter is more likely), but I'd love to re-read this fic where WWX (I think in MXY's body) staged Qin Su's death and got her safely out of KT and into CR. He then of course got blamed for murder before things were revealed. Thank you! 🖤🐇 @linderel

~*~

19. Fic Finder request please!

WWX dies via being thrown into a pit with some awful entity and comes back all wrong. I only remember this scene where he threw up Wen Chao’s sword or skull in the middle of a meeting? Idk which one and LWJ is just being super horny for him even though it’s clear that something is very wrong with WWX. I tried searching tags and I can’t find this. Plz help!! 😭😭😭

~*~

20.I’m looking for a wangxian fic where they are both ballet dancers and they are doing Matthew bourne’s all-male version of swan lake, and lwj and wwx dance it while having a debate about whether or not it is a gay romance. Thank you!

FOUND? space, skin, muscle, bone by tombenough_and_continent (T, 23k, WangXian, Modern AU, Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, Non-Linear Narrative, Dance, Background SongXiao, background NieLan, a surprising amount of texting, gratuitous use of ballet terminology)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

38 notes · View notes

lightlycareless · 1 day ago

Note

I was thinking about your last few asks that mentioned Maki and Mai(How Naoya isn’t that close with them and how they always get Y/N to get stuff for them). I was thinking what if there was a time where Y/N was like ‘I want to go to Disneyland’ or something and Naoya Ofc is like ‘Anything for my queen’ only to realize that Y/N was setting it up as trip for Mai and Maki to attend as well(How she convinced Junko to let them go Idk 💀 the only way I could see it happening is if it was like a bday present for them and Junko was feeling a little bad for them considering most of the clan wouldn’t even acknowledge the day for them). I can imagine Naoya going along with it since he already agreed to do this for Y/N but just kinda stewing in his feelings about how his date with Y/N turned into babysitting his cousins at a theme park. I can see him maybe loosening up a little seeing how happy Y/N is to do this for them(depending on when this takes place, maybe it makes Naoya think about how Y/N would be with their own children in the future, although Y/N and the twins I believe was mentioned to have a more older sister younger sisters vibe but let me dream for a moment lol).

This also kinda gives me the idea of what it would be like if Naoya and Y/N had to babysit a kid for like a day or so and gives them a glimpse of what having a child together would be like before they’ve had kids. Idk who that random kid would be tho lol. Maybe even HS au where Y/N and Naoya get paired to take care of one of those fake babies XD

Sorry I got off on a tangent, I’m obsessed and Naoya and Y/N so I think about a lot of situations they can get into. You don’t have to write any of they don’t strike your fancy Ofc but I still wanted to share. Sorry for rambling >.<

Hello!!

How y'all manage to hit the nail on the head with certain scenarios has me baffled, and so happy hahahaha I'm so in love with this idea; just anything Disney makes me all giddy inside, I really do love imagining scenarios where Y/N is going to the park with Naoya as a couple, or when they go with their kids and such... just those little things with their family 🥺 ajhgajghjas ugh, it warms my heart.

The taking care of a kid together reminds me of those typical school assignments where you have to take care of an egg???? Or maybe that was just me, but I'm sure you know what I mean XD so imma write something of the topic set on a hs au :)

For now, let's enjoy Naoya's plans being foiled when he takes you to Disney... but you decide to bring along Mai and Maki lol.

warnings: fluff. it says tokyo disneyland but it's based on my experience which is the california park :') i'm sorry. naoya get's all sensitive at the thought of you.

Happy reading!!

Naoya was all too aware of one of your biggest dreams, it’s been so for as long as he can remember, as well as the reason behind all his recent efforts: to take you to Disneyland on your birthday.

He wants to take you to all of them eventually, of course; in due time there will not be a park that you hadn’t enjoyed—however, before he takes it to the next level, he rightfully assumed Tokyo was a nice spot to start.

“Y/N, are you going to do anything for your birthday?” Naoya asks, as smoothly as he could—attempting to hide the excitement this whole ordeal brought him. It’s essentially a date!

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I’ll probably just go out to eat, why?”

“Clear up your schedule, we’re going to Disneyland.”

“Oh my God, are you being serious right now?!” you gasp, his heart skipping a bit at the way your eyes twinkled, it’s just the kind of admiration that makes his ego grow bigger—more so if it comes from you. “Naoya, that is—thank you so much!”

However, his satisfaction wouldn’t last long the moment you prompted the question of being allowed to bring someone else. At first, he thought it would be one of your pestering friends, which he was okay with to some degree, it was your birthday after all and there was nothing else that he wanted more than to make you happy…

But when he learned you planned to invite his cousins, all he could think was “really?”

Of all people… his annoying 8-year-old cousins.

“Are you excited to go to Disney for the first time in your lives?!” You tried to hype Mai and Maki along as Naoya dejectedly drove towards the destination, keeping himself entertained with a much different scenario in his mind. Anything to ignore his current predicament.

“Yes!” They cried back with a wide smile on their faces, as expected.

“What is Disneyland like?” Maki asks. “What is there??”

“It’s better if I don’t spoil you, just wait and see!”

Though there isn’t much spoiling left to be done, Naoya considers, given how his date with you is effectively overridden by their presence, demanding that your attention be solely placed on him—the only consideration he seems to be given is when being asked how many were in your party, and sitting arrangements once in the rides.

It made his efforts undeniably futile, and was very near to giving up entirely whatever he had planned for the day…

Until a certain sight proves him wrong.

Naoya couldn’t care less about his irritating cousins, and while not justified, they hadn’t been the easiest to get along with either —there’s not a moment they don’t take to mock him, surely at one point that ought to irritate anyone— however, to see you fret about their safety, their appearance as you thread back locks of their hair back in place, even wonder what they’d like to eat as while gently holding onto their hands as the two walked across the park…

Something about it makes his heart warm up; must be the comparison to your surroundings, how it made you blend in with the other families and make it seem as if they were your kids.

His children.

He becomes a bit more willing after that just to entertain that sweet thought a bit longer, obliging to buy all the things you wanted, even if they were to end on Mai and Maki’s hands at the end. In fact, Naoya’s energy was redirected in keeping you and his cousins rightfully satisfied, when he once scowled at the faintest semblance of a request from their part, he was now suggesting experiences the three might find enjoyable.

“If we go now, we might be able to find good spots.” Naoya says in reference to the upcoming parade. “Or I can go ahead while you look around or go on another ride.”

“Are you sure, Naoya? I wouldn’t like you to feel left out…” you murmur.

“It’s fine, prin— Y/N.” he coughs, the twins raise an eyebrow. “Go have fun.”

“Why are you being so nice out of the sudden, Naoya??” Maki, unable to hide her… confusion, points out, making Naoya fluster.

“Because it’s her birthday!” he frowns. “Which should be enough reason for the two of you to behave as well, instead of being the spoiled brats you usually are!”

“Naoya!” you gasp.

“…I mean—just—let’s just have fun.” Naoya spluttered, making you and the twin’s chuckle.

Which is how the rest of the evening proceeded, with samples of all the food both found appetizing, alongside purchases of things that were to undoubtedly preserve this moment for years to come, and of course, pictures, lots of them, with you, Mai and Maki, in every iconic landscape with those equally memorable Mickey ears that Naoya found quite adorable on you; because it represented your happiness.

A job well done on his part, just what he wanted for you on your special day.

And once everything was done, the girls tired and you satisfied, it was finally time to go back home. Naoya helped you carry the only one of the twins that was too exhausted to make the way back to the car, while you held the other by the hand—a lovely sight he didn’t know he wanted to partake in until now… imagining them instead as both little girls that looked just like you; daughters that would take after your loving demeanor.

Your enjoyment of sweets, of places like these that he’d turn into some kind of yearly family holiday just to see them happy. Already hearing their adorable pleas, demanding their papa take them to greet their favorite character—a princess perhaps, though they were the only princesses he could discern—or try out one of the many snacks.

“Now, now darlings; don’t overwhelm your papa.” You’d caution, gently taking the hand of your youngest before heading to him, offering him a bite of the churros you just bought for them, and him gladly taking it. “Is it good? Do you like it?”

“It’s… different.” He says. “I don’t mind the texture.”

“I’m glad—oh! Wait.” You then proceed to wipe the leftovers in the corner of his mouth, a moment that leads the two to stare at each other for a few seconds, a smile parting both of their lips as they realize how blessed they were to be here, with your daughters. Together.

Happy.

In love.

…

When the time is right.

Only with you.

“Do you need anything else? Food, medicine? Are you feeling alright?”

“It’s ok, Naoya, just tired. You don’t need to do anything else… what you’ve done is more than enough.” You say, looking back at the twins to find them soundly asleep; they were knocked out the moment they arrived at your shared hotel room—certainly, today had been a long day for everyone. “It was fun.”

“I’m glad.” He responds, feeling the tiniest sting of disappointment, perhaps expecting you’d be willing to do something else with him before the night ends, a moment of privacy between the two…

But he soon learns that you weren’t far off from his desires, given how you carefully placed your hand over his chest and leaned upwards to place a kiss on his cheek, your gesture flaring Naoya’s cheeks immediately after, more so at the following.

“Maybe next time… it could just be the two of us.” You murmur. “I’d like it to be just the two of us.”

“I can—I can arrange that.” Naoya breathes, nodding.

“It’s a date, then.” You smile. “Goodnight, Naoya. See you tomorrow for breakfast.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He smirks, the nickname he’s been holding off to say finally making its way past his lips and making you blush; quickly turning around out of embarrassment, ready to head back to bed… before decidedly returning to him and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Now it’s his moment to turn bright red. “Y/N—”

“Just something to look forward to.” You murmur. “If… it’s not too much.”

“No, it’s not. Actually, it’s… perfect.” As always.

Naoya could wait a bit thinking about a family.

For now, he just wants to love you.

It can be somewhat read like Naoya and Y/N aren't officially dating quite yet.............................................. or maybe you're just shy because Mai and Maki are there and they're like 1000000% little devils when it comes to teasing you about your BOYFRIEND with coincidentally is the dork of a cousin they have. Aw 🥹

Also, the whole thing did make me wonder how Junko would even allow this to happen.............. you must've sworn to do something crazy lol. "Fine, I'll marry Naoya if you let me take the girls to Disney." type of thing, when outside of the crazy canon and Naoya is a bit calmer, Junko always struck me as the type to look out for him one way or the other more than his own uncle!!! (she fears you'll hurt him lol)

Anyways, it was a treat writing this and now I want to write little Naomi going on an amusement park with her parents... which will happen but not on Disney, we all know she a puroland fan 😏

Thank you so much ❤️ Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

28 notes · View notes

luv-beam · 2 days ago

Text

IM BAAAACK!!! i was gonna save this as my bedtime story, but then i realized i can't stay up tonight 😭 but all the better for me bc i get to read this little masterpiece early 😌:

• when you don't just have a feeling that today isn't going to go well, but it's DESTINED not to go well... good lord time to panic! also the description of the dress is so pretty rah like the quiet dignity and refinement over opulence, rhe soft rustling of the skirts,, u can really feel the vibe of the family thru this and also the tension w the fact that yn feels everything BUT perfect

• WHISPERING THAT A LADY'S VIRTUE LIES IN RESTRAINT OHHHHHH U CANT DO THIS TO ME NOT WHEN YN LITERALLY IS LIKE RESTRAINING HERSELF FROM HER OWN DESIRES THIS WHOLE FIC U CANT

• fun fact but corsets were never meant to be suffocatingly tight; its kind of just a modern stereotype, but im not mentioning this to diss ur writing or anything !!! 😭😭 i think the tightness of the corset and yns lack of room to breathe is a really important symbol that lends to how she's really feeling. like the physical connecting to the emotional

• okay another comment abt ur imagery bc ur descriptions of the palace are utterly breathtaking 🤧 like White Room Syndrome is scared of u, tara

• i know whats gonna happen, but like the tension and suspense u create is enough to have anyone on the edge of their seats!! like u dont need future sight to be anxious abt what's gonna happen. like will yn get out of this scot-free or will something horrible happen?

• "you are a xu, do not falter" ugh all the pressure and expectations yn is burdening herself w just continue to distress and weigh her down further...

• GIVE THIS GIRL A HUG 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

• i hate that i like,,, get their mother's argument. like im on yn and hao's side fs but also... idk i think she just had sm going on and like mental struggles can be just as harmful as physical ones. im glad hao is so compassionate, and that her mother does have some sympathy for her daughter

• (but i know what comes next 😭😭😭😭😭)

• "a splendid display of athleticism" PLS IM GONNA SNORT SKFNDKFNFNF seokmin does have a knack for brightening the room :'))) even i was trying to mope w our mc, but then that line made me break lol

• HOPE CAN BE A SLIPPERY CREATURE YES WE KNOW .

• TARA U WANT ME TO CRY DONT U (´Д⊂ヽ NOT IN THE WAY U LONG FOR?? THE CHASM BTWN UR FEELINGS AND HIS INDIFFERENCE???? EEEUUUGHHHH!!!

• i hate how supportive seok is being, like hope truly is a slippery creature. i feel like me and the mc both r getting strung along goddamn......

• love the details of the lady's tea and the garden party — great worldbuilding details to get me even more immersed

• AWWWH THE NEW DRESS, HER MAMA'S ADORATION FOR HER UGH 😭😭😭 i hate knowing the future. besides that, love the imagery of the dress like i can piece it together in my mind as if im sketching it out!! its so pretty :')) def befitting of a princess

• such a "slipping thru my fingers" moment 🤧🤧 like it's so starkly different from the time yn was getting ready for the debut presentation where she was just worried and freaking out; now she and her mom are /laughing/ and tho there r expectations, this will undoubtedly ease a couple of those worries

• oh the the anticipation is killing me — and then the ball is positively dismal >~<

• I WAS WAITING FOR SEOK TO FINALLY COME BY AND OFFER A DANCE LIKE UR YNS BESTIE COME HERE AND GIVE HER A HAND BY ASKING FOR HER HAND WINK WINK

• the mamas leading an army line is so funny lol and who said women cant fight??

• BRUH i just speedran five different emotions like HOLY SHIT I LOVE SEOK > holy shit. does he love yn back? > holy shit this hurts > holy... shit... > oh fck. like the immediate realization that snaps into place when u out two and two together. i wanna say she's jumping to conclusions based on seok's initial surprise, but im also cynical like yn is being in this moment and yeah... idk

• OPEN HONEST DEVASTATING. TAKE A KNIFE THROUGH MY HEART ALREADY THE WAY THOSE THREE WORDS PUNCTURE MY CHEST

• the "how foolish of me" not only meant for the fact that she thought he'd gone into this w pure intentions, but also foolish of herself for believeing he actually wanted to dance w her, that she actually had a chance w him... oh i want to yeet myself off a cliff

• omg the argument btwn yn and hao... tensions were high, im afraid... like idk if chucking a shoe at his face was supposed to be funny but i feel yns fury and the angry tears like i know there were better ways to go abt this, but i am all for female rage!!!

• "the bitterness in ur chest is a wellspring of anguish" OHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭 oh 😭 like it's catching up to her now. also, just the fact that hope is so slippery and caused her to make her entire reputation crumble is just... someone give this girl a hug, she was not built for this

• YOU'VE TAKEN SOMETHING PRECIOUS FROM ME???? some might say its her dignity, her reputation, her agency,,,, but we all know what it really was... or who...... i love snarling female rage dialogue

• do u know the taylor swift "right where u left me"? yeah thats this whole next section 😭💔 baby just becomes a ghost who haunts the place she was abandoned and wronged

• THAT LAST LINE IS LIKE THE EXECUTIONER'S PULL ON THE PULLEY TO LET THE GUILLOTINE BLADE FLY. LIKE OH THE POWER OF A SINGLE LINE LIKE THAT

despite knowing what was gonna happen, it still hit so hard, or rather, EVEN HARDER this time 😭😭😭 like my mouth is pulled into a permanent frown skcnekfnjf IM SO SAD FOR HER LIKE I DONT MIND BEING A SPINSTER MYSELF, BUT THE EXPECTATIONS THAT COME W HER SOCIAL STATION WONT ALLOW HER TO BE 😭😭😭 she will forecer be haunted by her choises and foolishness and im so sad for her 😭😭😭 tara, u are a cruel (yet talented...) mistress 😭

i... will be back tmrw... 🥲👍

The Somerset Affair | Chapter 2: When the Music Stops

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.8k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, crying, mentions of a panic attack (not being able to breathe), eventual smut, more to be added a/n: sorry sorry i know ch 2 took forever // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys this could not have happened without you // 3rd chapter will be up faster than this one i swear!!!

summary: when the music stops and everything goes wrong, will seokmin always be there to defend you?

comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here!

The morning of your debut should have been perfect. Every detail had been painstakingly planned over months, from the delicate lace of your gown to the pearls in your hair. But as you sit in front of your vanity, eyes bloodshot and heavy with fatigue, you know deep in your bones that this day is not destined to go smoothly.

You had stayed up the entire night, restless, thinking about Seokmin. Every word he had said, every smile, every fleeting touch that had seemed so innocent before now felt charged with meaning, occupying your thoughts and stealing away any hope of restful sleep. The result was staring back at you in the mirror: bloodshot eyes, dark circles beneath them, and lips that trembled as your maid worked tirelessly to dress you. It’s a pity – no amount of powders or rouge can hide the exhaustion and heartbreak written plainly across your face.

The soft rustling of your white debutante gown fills the room, each movement whispering of elegance and careful tradition. The gown is a masterful creation, carefully chosen by your mother months ago to reflect the quiet dignity of your family’s name. Its bodice is fitted, meticulously embroidered with the finest ivory threads that weave delicate patterns of lilies and vines across the fabric, adding dimension without overpowering.

Around the neckline, a border of tiny pearls catches the morning light, giving the gown a subtle shimmer that, like everything else about it, speaks of refinement over opulence. The gown’s sleeves, long and sheer, are trimmed in lace as fine as a spider’s web, designed to lay gently against your skin rather than cling, as if even the gown itself recognizes the demands of decorum.

The skirts cascade from the waist in a perfect fall of lace and satin, layers upon layers of gossamer fabric that float with your every step. Each layer, though fragile to the touch, is artfully arranged to maintain the gown’s perfect shape, a testament to the skill of its makers and the patience it took to assemble. At the hem, more intricate lacework peeks out, creating a subtle scalloped edge that brushes softly against the floor, finishing the gown with a grace that echoes the restraint of your mother’s discerning eye.

You cannot deny that the gown itself is a marvel, designed to highlight and enhance rather than dominate. It is beautiful, in the way a rose is beautiful—with an elegance that feels both timeless and delicate, whispering that a lady’s virtue lies in restraint, in never asking to be noticed and yet never failing to command attention.

But the corset. Oh, the corset. It felt as though it were designed to squeeze the very life from you.

“Breathe in, my lady,” your maid instructs, her voice strained from the effort of pulling at the stiff fabric. She pulls at the stays until your ribs protest in pain.

“I can’t breathe in anymore,” you bite out, trying and failing to draw in a proper breath. The corset feels like it’s made of iron, constricting your lungs until your vision begins to blur. “It’s too tight. I— I can’t—”

But your lady’s maid is relentless, ignoring your protests as she cinches you even tighter. She ties the final knot with a satisfied sigh. “There. That should hold.”

Hold? It felt more like it was keeping you prisoner, you think grimly, but before you can voice any more complaints, your mother sweeps into the room, her graceful presence filling the space with a quiet authority. Dressed in an elegant gown of soft gray silk, she pauses to take in your appearance, her sharp eyes noting every detail.

Your mother’s eyes scan your dress approvingly, but when her gaze lands on your face, her expression falters. “Dearest, you look... unwell.”

Your heart sinks. “I didn’t sleep much last night,” you confess, eyes cast downward, though you don’t dare mention why. The last thing you need is your mother knowing Seokmin has occupied your thoughts in such a way.

Your mother sighs softly and moves to stand beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “This day is important, darling. I had hoped you would be well-rested, but...” She trails off, her tone not unkind, but laced with concern. “There is no time now to dwell on it. The Queen waits for no one.”

You nod, feeling a rush of guilt, knowing how much effort has gone into preparing you for this moment. But the weight of the corset and your sleepless night are conspiring to make you feel utterly overwhelmed. Your mother notices, of course. She always does.

“Try not to worry too much,” she says, her voice softening, though it still holds that undercurrent of expectation. “You must keep your chin high, shoulders back. No one need know what little sleep you had. You are beautiful, my dear, no matter the circumstances.”

Her words, though comforting, do little to ease the anxiety building in your chest. But there’s no time left. Your lady’s maid places the final pearl pins in your hair, and your mother gives you a reassuring squeeze before she gestures toward the door. “It’s time.”

Your nerves flutter violently as you’re escorted downstairs and into the awaiting carriage. The ride to the palace feels both endless and far too short. Every bump in the road jostles your already-tight corset, pressing against your ribs and leaving you breathless. The palace is as magnificent as you had heard—no, it’s more. The palace itself is a marvel of architecture, an opulent structure that seems more the work of fantasy than reality. Vaulted ceilings soar impossibly high, held aloft by marble columns adorned with delicate carvings of ivy and mythical creatures that seem to come to life in the flickering candlelight. Every archway is flanked by gilded moldings, winding and curling like golden vines, each detail rendered with the precision of a master sculptor.

Each corner, each angle of the palace seems to lead to something grander than the last, as if it were designed to swallow you whole in beauty. And perhaps it is, you think, as you press a hand over your fluttering heart. For despite the elegance, there is an undeniable sense of intimidation in the sheer scale of it all—a reminder of how small you are in the face of such a place, and of the scrutiny that awaits within these towering, timeworn walls.

You can feel the architecture itself imposing upon you, weighing down like the firm hand of tradition. For a fleeting moment, you imagine yourself wandering through the palace alone, exploring every column and arch, free of the hundreds of eyes upon you. But here, now, with the gaze of history and expectation pressing down, you straighten your shoulders, drawing in a steadying breath, and follow your Mama into the Great Hall.

The hall is grander than anything you had even dared to imagine. The polished marble floors shine like glass, capturing reflections in delicate ripples that turn the passing gowns of debutantes into pools of lace and silk. Chandeliers hang from above, so immense and dazzling that they appear to drip crystal stars. They illuminate the room with a glow that is almost celestial, casting every inch of the hall in a warmth befitting the Queen herself.

To your right and left, mirrors taller than any man stretch to the ceiling, framed in gold leaf as intricate as lacework. The mirrors hold your gaze as you pass, capturing the girls beside you as they float forward with their mothers, each one a shimmering, blushing vision in white. You see yourself in these mirrors too, and although the gown fits you perfectly, somehow you feel like you’re wearing another’s skin. For a moment, you imagine your reflection whispering back, “Are you really here?”

The walls are covered in the richest velvet, deep greens and ruby reds that somehow make the hall feel even grander, as if you’ve stepped into the very heart of royalty itself. Enormous portraits of past queens and kings line the hall, each gaze strong and serene, as if they’re assessing every girl who dares to walk beneath their painted eyes. Somewhere in your chest, a knot forms and tightens. It’s strange, the feeling of being surrounded by so much opulence, as if the walls are watching, waiting for something that only they understand.

And perhaps that’s why your breath is so unsteady, why your heartbeat seems to echo through the hall in time with your footsteps. The palace, beautiful as it is, leaves you feeling like a creature of some lesser world, an intruder who has somehow wandered into a realm that does not belong to you. It’s not so much a place as a spectacle, a stunning, overbearing reminder of all that you must live up to, of all the scrutiny you’ll face from these grand walls, these glittering chandeliers, and yes, the very Queen herself. Every step feels like you are walking deeper into a lion’s den, where your every move will be scrutinized, your worth as a young lady judged by the sharpest eyes in the kingdom.

You move with the other debutantes, each girl dressed in white, adorned with jewels and delicate veils, the picture of youth and grace. The line seems to stretch forever as you wait your turn to be announced. The air is thick with anticipation, the rustle of satin and silk as the ladies murmur quietly to one another, some excited, others as nervous as you feel. Your own dress, despite its beauty, feels like a trap. The corset restricts your every breath, and the weight of expectation presses on your shoulders like a leaden cloak.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you scan the room, your nerves growing worse by the second. And then, in the far corner, you spot them. Minghao stands with an air of composure, his eyes quietly observing the room, his presence as regal as ever. Your brother watches the proceedings with a detached elegance, his eyes flickering over the debutantes without much interest. His gaze flicks to you, and for a moment, you feel a strange sense of calm knowing your brother is watching.

But next to him, is Seokmin.

He stands taller than most, his posture rigid but his face warm, though tinged with concern. While your brother is a portrait of his birthright and title, Seokmin is different. His gaze is sharper, more intent, and when his eyes find yours, the familiar comfort of his presence makes your heart stutter. You try to remind yourself to breathe, but the memory of his touch, his words, from the night prior clings to you like a shadow.

Seokmin’s expression softens when he sees you, and for a moment, the whole room seems to fall away. His lips quirk in a small, reassuring smile, and though you try to return it, your own face feels tight, your nerves too frayed to muster anything convincing.

As if sensing your unease, Seokmin’s eyes narrow with concern. Does he notice how your corset presses too tightly into your ribs? Or how your eyes are puffy from lack of sleep? The warmth in his gaze is mixed with a flicker of something unreadable, something almost protective. You are painfully aware of his gaze, and the thought of him watching you stumble through this day feels like too much to bear.

The line of debutantes inches forward, each young lady presented with grace and poise, or at least, the appearance of it. Your nerves churn violently in your stomach as your name is finally called. Your mother tightens her grip, ever so slightly, and it’s a silent reminder – You are a Xu. Do not falter.

“Miss Y/N Xu, sister of the Duke of Somerset,” the herald crows, and every eye in the room fixes on you. “Presented by her mother, the Right Honorable Dowager Duchess of Somerset.”

Your legs feel like jelly as you take your first step forward, your skirts swishing around you. The weight of the gown, the tightness of your corset, and the heavy stares from all corners of the room press down on you. You try to steady your breathing, but the corset refuses to allow for even that small comfort.

Just as you take a step, disaster strikes.

Your heel catches on the hem of your gown.

You stumble forward, arms flailing slightly to catch yourself, but the weight of your skirts and the tightness of your corset make it impossible to recover gracefully. A collective gasp echoes through the room, and you feel your cheeks flush with mortification.

The whispers are instant, rippling through the crowd like wildfire. You can feel the stares—sharp, judgmental, unforgiving. Your mother’s grip tightens, and though she says nothing, you can feel her disapproval radiating through her hold. She doesn’t need to scold you—not in public. But the sting of her disappointment is enough to make you want to shrink into the floor.

Still, you manage to regain your footing, if only barely. You take a shaky breath and continue forward, your knees trembling with each step. But it gets worse. With every move, the corset seems to tighten further, squeezing the breath from your lungs until black spots dance in the corners of your vision.

Just as you’re about to curtsy before the Queen, your knees buckle.

A choking cough rips from your throat, loud and desperate, echoing through the grand hall. You’re bent over at the waist, gasping for breath, your corset pressing tighter with every moment. You cough again, and again, unable to stop, your eyes watering as you struggle to compose yourself.

The Queen, perched on her throne in all her regal glory, watches with a raised eyebrow, her disapproval palpable. Her expression is one of distaste, as if you are a spectacle—an amusing disaster.

Your mother murmurs beside you, “Steady yourself,” and her grip tightens with fury and disappointment in equal measure. It’s too late. Your corset has robbed you of the ability to breathe, and the weight of the entire room’s gaze crushes you. Your vision swims again, and for one horrifying moment, you think you might faint right there in front of the Queen.

Finally, you manage to straighten yourself, gasping for air, your face flushed and tear-streaked. You risk a glance toward the far side of the room, where Minghao and Seokmin still stand.

Minghao’s face is impassive, though his eyes are dark with what could only be disappointment. Seokmin, on the other hand, looks as though he might bolt across the room to help you. His hands clench at his sides, his jaw tight as his eyes flick between you and the Queen.

The Queen’s cold, cutting voice slices through the silence. “Miss Xu,” she says slowly, her tone dripping with disapproval. “It seems you are... unwell.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach. You manage a wobbly curtsy, your knees nearly giving out beneath you again as you lower yourself.

“Perhaps Miss Y/N should reconsider her readiness for society,” the Queen continues icily. “A young lady of such delicate constitution may not be suited for the rigors of court.”

Her words land like a blow. You rise slowly, trying to keep your chin held high, though your hands tremble and your vision remains blurry from the humiliation. All you want is for this moment to end. To disappear.

As you retreat, the whispers rise in volume, filling the grand hall with gossip and speculation. You can feel the weight of every gaze on you, every judgment passed in an instant. But it is Seokmin’s gaze that you search for in the crowd. His eyes meet yours, and though they are filled with concern, they are also gentle, understanding. A small comfort in the midst of your disaster.

Your mother, ever composed, whispers to you as she leads you from the room, her voice calm but firm. “We will speak of this later, darling. But for now, we must leave with grace.”

You nod weakly, still too breathless and embarrassed to respond. And as you step out of the grand hall, the day that was supposed to mark your entrance into society feels like anything but. All you can think about is how miserably everything went wrong—and how, even in the midst of it all, Seokmin’s gaze had found yours, steady and unwavering.

The silence presses on as the carriage trundles through the city streets, each wheel hitting the cobbles with a sound like a hammer to your heart. You’re trapped, here in this carriage, with no escape from your mother’s disappointment or the day’s memories—the whispered laughter, the blunder before the Queen, and the sheer, unbearable heat of your mortification.

Minghao’s hand rests over yours for only a heartbeat, but it’s enough to keep you from crumbling entirely. Though he releases your hand quickly to avoid Mama’s watchful eye, the gesture is enough to ground you, pulling you back to this place instead of letting you spiral into all the things you could have, should have done differently.

At last, your mother clears her throat, a carefully composed sound that cuts through the quiet like a knife.

“Well,” she says, her voice clipped and precise, “that was… quite the spectacle.” Her tone is a blend of disappointment and a tight, forced restraint. “I had hoped, naturally, for a… more dignified presentation.”

You swallow, feeling the flush of embarrassment burn anew. “I—” you start, but the words catch, failing under the weight of everything you wish to explain and the knowledge that no explanation will undo what’s done.

She adjusts her gloves with a sharp, precise tug, a calculated movement that somehow manages to convey her frustration without a single word. “I trust,” she begins slowly, every syllable measured, “that you understand the gravity of today’s events.”

You swallow, focusing on the intricate embroidery of your gown, tracing the delicate threads to distract yourself from the pressing sting of her words.

“Mother, I—” you stammer, but she holds up a gloved hand, silencing you before the words even form.

“We spent months preparing for this moment,” she continues, her voice tight with restrained emotion. “Months, to ensure you would have the debut any young lady of our family should. Your dress, your bearing, every detail was attended to so you would represent us with grace, with decorum. And yet, today…” She trails off, her eyes gliding over you with a look that could curdle milk.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Minghao interjects quietly, and though his tone is gentle, there’s a faint edge to his words, as though even he cannot quite hold back his defense. He shoots a quick, sidelong glance at you, a small, reluctant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The Queen’s hall was suffocating, and the entire affair was clearly designed to unnerve anyone in attendance.”

Your mother’s expression softens just a fraction as she regards her son, but she’s hardly swayed. “The Queen’s hall has been the site of countless debuts. If anything, the occasion called for composure, not… fainting spells.”

You clench your fists, the fabric of your dress twisting between your fingers, and look resolutely at the floor. As painful as it is to hear, you know your mother is not entirely wrong. Today was supposed to be your moment of triumph, the day you stepped forward as a young woman ready for society, carrying your family’s reputation with poise and dignity.

But instead, you remember the heat that had pressed in from all sides, the feeling of your corset cutting into your ribs, how your hands had trembled with each step. It was supposed to have been an easy task, to walk forward, cursty, and meet the Queen’s gaze with calm respect. And yet, you had felt every gaze upon you like a burn, each stumble echoing through the endless hall. And then, Seokmin’s eyes finding yours, calm and steady…

The memory stirs something warm within you, a faint flicker of relief that somehow dampens the embarrassment. The Queen’s gaze may have been unyielding, your mother’s disappointment all-consuming, but for that one moment, you had felt tethered, no longer alone.

Outside, the sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the city as the carriage continues its steady roll homeward. The silence stretches again, and the weight of it settles around you like an invisible veil. Minghao catches your eye, and though he says nothing, the look he gives you speaks volumes—a quiet reassurance, a reminder that this one day does not define you, that he still believes in you despite every misstep.

Your mother finally sighs, a faint softening in her shoulders. “We’ll regroup,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “There will be more opportunities, of course, but we’ll need to be mindful, thoughtful. A second chance may not be as kind.” She glances at you, and though her expression remains stern, there’s a glimmer of something almost like understanding.

The carriage ride stretches on in silence once more, each of you lost in thoughts. You glance out the window, watching the city roll by, lanterns casting fleeting golden glows against the carriage walls. It feels surreal, how a day so longed for turned into a series of mishaps, one after another. But as the carriage rounds a corner, you catch a memory from earlier: Seokmin’s eyes, grounding you, unwavering, somehow knowing how terrifying each step felt, how every misstep seemed amplified beneath the weight of so many watching.

As the carriage wheels finally begin to slow, approaching the gates of your family estate, you feel a shift within yourself. Today may have been a disaster, and yet, Seokmin’s gaze and Minghao’s quiet support linger, like small anchors in the storm of the day.

The drawing room is a sanctuary of elegance, its ornate moldings and rich fabrics designed to impress. Tall windows frame the view of the manicured gardens outside, sunlight pouring through in golden streams that dance across the polished wooden floor. Yet, despite the beauty surrounding you, it feels more like a gilded cage today. The delicate scent of lavender from the nearby vase does little to soothe the turmoil within.

You sit hunched over a needlepoint project, your fingers fumbling with the bright threads that feel foreign against your skin. The canvas before you, a swirl of colors and patterns, seems to mock your inability to focus. Your mind wanders far beyond the needlework, replaying the events of your disastrous debut like a never-ending nightmare. Each time you think of it, a fresh wave of humiliation washes over you, sharp and unyielding, like a thorn that refuses to dislodge itself from your heart.

“Goodness, how is one expected to focus with this nonsense?” you mutter under your breath, the needle slipping from your fingers yet again and leaving a careless knot in the thread. You curse softly, frustration bubbling to the surface.

Your mother sits comfortably in her armchair, her brow slightly furrowed as she loses herself in the pages of a novel, the rustle of paper punctuating the silence. Minghao lounges on the settee across from you, flipping through a collection of sketches, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement at his artistic efforts. Every so often, his gaze flickers towards you, a mixture of concern and curiosity etched into his features, but he respects your silence, understanding that you are still recovering from the scarring events of your debut into polite society.

Just then, the door swings open, and Seokmin steps into the room, his presence a burst of light that seems to chase away the shadows clinging to your thoughts. It has been years since the butler last announced his arrival—his visits are far too frequent now, and you can’t help but feel a mix of warmth and apprehension at his entrance. His usually buoyant demeanor is tempered by a trace of concern as he takes in the scene before him, the way your shoulders droop as if weighed down by invisible chains.

“Good morning!” he declares, his voice bright yet careful, testing the waters of your melancholy. “I do hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” your mother replies, glancing up from her book, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “In fact, you may be just what our dear girl needs.”

You offer a small, half-hearted smile, the corners of your lips barely lifting. “And what would that be? A distraction or a dose of reality?”

Seokmin approaches, his smile as warm as the sunlight flooding the room. “A bit of both, if you’ll allow me.” He perches himself on the arm of your chair, leaning in just enough to draw your focus from the needlepoint chaos. “That was quite the debut you had, dear friend. How are you holding up?”

“Barely,” you sigh, tossing the errant needlepoint aside as if it were the source of all your woes. “I feel as if I’ve stumbled through a door marked ‘exit’ into an abyss of mortification.”

His eyes widen with sympathy, and in that moment, your heart flutters, torn between admiration and the painful reality that he may never feel the same. Seokmin has a way of making the world feel lighter, yet your feelings for him are a weight that often threatens to pull you under.

“Ah, yes,” he nods sagely, as if you have just shared the most profound wisdom. “The abyss of polite society can be quite unforgiving. I believe it’s marked with ‘no entrance’ signs, but alas, they are easily overlooked.”

Minghao chuckles softly, his attention now fully diverted from his sketches. “You do have a gift for exaggeration, Seokmin.”

“It’s a talent,” Seokmin replies, feigning an air of grandeur, his hand pressing dramatically to his heart. “But truly, do not let the Queen’s judgment define you. You are far too radiant for that.”

You snort, the sound escaping before you can suppress it. “Radiant? Is that what you call it when one trips over their own gown and nearly faints in front of our sovereign?”

“Why, yes! A splendid display of athleticism!” he shoots back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve inadvertently entertained a room full of people—something they are certain to remember for ages.”

“But not in the way I had hoped,” you reply, frustration seeping into your voice as the memory of the evening flashes before your eyes, a storm of embarrassment churning within you.

“Ah, but hope can be a slippery creature,” he counters, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “What matters is how you choose to move forward. I have heard of many a lady whose debut was marred by similar accidents—yet they rise from the ashes like phoenixes, dazzling everyone with their resilience.”

“Is that your way of saying I should make a grand return to society?” You raise an eyebrow, your heart flickering with the suggestion. “Perhaps adorned in feathers and sequins to distract from my previous mistake?”

“I’d be the first to support such a feat,” he replies earnestly, the sincerity in his voice a soothing balm for your frayed nerves. But beneath your amusement lies an aching truth: his encouragement only highlights the chasm between your feelings and his indifference. He will never look at you the way you long for.

“Yes, Lord Lee, what a wonderful idea!” your mother exclaims, her book long forgotten. “The Fitzwilliam Ball is to be held in the coming weeks—what a splendid way for our darling girl to re-enter society!”

Your face falls. A ball? So soon? The very thought sends a tremor of panic racing through you. “Mama, I—”

“Yes, Mother, a splendid idea indeed,” Minghao muses, a teasing glint in his eye. When you turn your glare to him, he sticks his tongue out meanly, and Seokmin suppresses a chuckle.

You take a deep breath, fighting against the swell of anxiety rising in your chest. “I’m not certain I’m ready for another ball, not after—” you start, but the words die on your lips as Seokmin’s gaze locks onto yours. His expression is gentle yet determined, a silent encouragement that stirs something deep within you.

“Ready or not, life moves on,” he says softly, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “You have to take the reins, even if the prospect is daunting.”

You want to believe him, to embrace his unwavering optimism, but doubt gnaws at you. Can you truly face another crowd, the whispers, the judgment? Your heart flutters erratically, caught in a tempest of affection and despair. Seokmin’s eyes shine with an earnestness that quickens your pulse, yet it only reminds you of the gulf that lies between your feelings and his casual indifference.

“Life indeed moves on,” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper, more to yourself than to anyone else. “But what if I stumble again? What if I make an even greater fool of myself?”

Seokmin’s smile falters for just a moment, replaced by a flicker of understanding that cuts through the air like a knife. “We all stumble, but that’s how we learn to rise,” he replies, his tone steady yet soft. “And besides, I’ll be there. I promise I’ll help you navigate any disaster.”

His words wrap around you like a lifeline, a flicker of hope igniting your heart. But as the warmth of his promise settles in, a cold weight begins to press upon you. You look into his eyes, searching for something more, but find only the steadfast gaze of a friend—someone who would catch you if you fell, but only as a friend.

“Right,” you murmur, the pain of acceptance settling in your chest like a stone, heavy and unyielding, a reminder of the distance between you.

The late evening light filters softly through the sheer curtains of your room, casting a warm glow that barely reaches the pile of books haphazardly stacked beside your bed. These books, filled with tales of love and adventure, have provided a much-needed refuge from the reality of your recent debut. For days now, you’ve chosen to cocoon yourself in their comforting embrace, avoiding the whispers and curious glances of society that followed you after your disastrous introduction.

You had resolutely refused to attend any of the society events your mother deemed essential—the lady’s tea, with its orchestrated conversations and veiled judgments, or the garden party, where laughter seemed to echo around you while you felt only isolation. The thought of facing the same debutantes, the same mamas, their glances lingering a moment too long on you, made your stomach churn. Instead, you preferred the solace of your room, the pages of your books offering both distraction and comfort as you lost yourself in worlds far removed from the judgmental eyes of the ton.

But tonight, your mother is insistent. At last, the Fitzwilliam Ball is upon you, and you have no escape from your mother’s gentle chiding. “Darling,” she calls gently, her voice a melody that pulls you from the pages of your latest escape. The delicate scent of lavender wafts through the air as she steps into the room, her presence commanding yet warm. It is an unusual moment—your lady’s maid typically oversees your dressing, managing the layers of fabric and the intricate details of your ensemble. But today, it is your mother who steps into that role, a significant act that carries with it the weight of her affection and a chance to bridge the gap that your previous missteps had created.

“It’s time to get ready, my dear,” she says, her tone gentle but firm, as she approaches your wardrobe. As she opens the doors, the sight of your gown hanging inside takes your breath away.

The dress, an ethereal creation of lavender silk, shimmers like moonlight trapped in fabric. The bodice is adorned with intricate embroidery that depicts delicate vines and blossoms, each stitch telling a story of artistry and care. The sleeves are fitted, with lace cascading down to create a soft ruffle at the wrist, and the skirt flows in layers, each tier of lace and silk billowing like clouds as it moves. It is a gown befitting a princess, meticulously designed to showcase your family’s esteemed standing while allowing a hint of youthful exuberance to shine through.

“This gown is truly magnificent,” you murmur, your fingers tracing the embroidered flowers as your mother gently lifts it from the wardrobe. “I can’t believe you chose it yourself.”

“Of course, I did. It’s time for your grand re-entrance to society, after all,” she replies, a smile dancing on her lips as she helps you into the gown. The fabric wraps around you like a dream, soft and luxurious, but as your mother laces the bodice, the realization of how tightly it pulls leaves you breathless. Each tug of the laces feels like a reminder of the expectations that have come to define you, but your mother’s presence softens the edges of that pressure.

Yet, it is not discomfort that fills the room. Instead, the sounds of your mother’s laughter and intelligence wrap themselves around you. Your mother’s hands are gentle as she fastens each lace, her fingers brushing against your skin in a manner that reassures you. The stern disappointment of your debut, where you felt like a shadow beneath the weight of expectations, seems to dissipate, replaced by her usual grace and kindness. As she works, her voice drifts like a melody, recounting stories from her own youth, her laughter echoing softly against the mirror as if the memories bring light to the room.

With every loop of ribbon and every gentle tug, she weaves a tapestry of love and support, a tangible reminder that tonight is not merely a duty but a celebration of who you are. As she arranges your hair into an elegant updo, delicately weaving in pearl pins that glimmer like stars, you catch a glimpse of the woman she has always been beneath the layers of propriety. The warmth of her presence washes over you, igniting a flicker of hope that perhaps tonight will mark a new beginning.

“Are you ready?” she asks, stepping back to admire her handiwork, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

“I suppose as ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply, taking a moment to admire your reflection. The gown transforms you into a vision of beauty, yet beneath the surface, you feel a tempest of uncertainty swirling within you.

“Now, let’s see what your brother thinks.” Your mother gestures toward the door, and as you descend the staircase, your heart quickens with every step.

At the foot of the stairs, Minghao waits patiently, the embodiment of duty and familial pride. His presence, regal and calm, adds to the moment’s gravity. Dressed in a tailored coat that accentuates his stature, he stands as the dutiful son and duke, ready to escort both you and your mother to the ball. The contrast between his composed demeanor and your own fluttering heart is stark, yet comforting. As you make your way down the stairs, your mother’s gentle squeeze of your hand gives you a modicum of strength, each step drawing you closer to the world outside that awaits your return.

“Sister,” Mighao greets, mirth dancing in his eyes. “I suppose if tonight is your big night, this gown does not offend the eyes.”

“Minghao!” Your mother’s rebuke is instant, a gentle reprimand that lightens the atmosphere with her authority.

“For goodness’ sake, brother,” you admonish, donning a façade of false bravado to hide the anxiety swirling within. “It seems as if you would simply keel over before you ever paid me a proper compliment!” You attempt to feign indignation, but the corners of your mouth betray you with the hint of a smile.

As you reach the bottom step, he extends his arm, a silent invitation to escort both you and your mother to the ball. It’s a gesture of duty, but there’s an undertone of affection that brings warmth to your heart. He may be the dutiful son and duke, poised and impeccably dressed in his tailored attire, but in this moment, he is simply your brother—standing beside you as a steadfast protector against the uncertainties of the evening ahead.

Your mother glances at both of you, her eyes sparkling with pride and a hint of nostalgia. “Shall we?” she prompts, her voice carrying a note of excitement that sends a flutter through your stomach.

With a deep breath, you take Minghao’s arm, feeling the reassuring strength of his presence as he leads you both toward the waiting carriage. The air outside is brisk, filled with the scent of blooming jasmine and the distant hum of music preparing to fill the grand halls. Each step you take resonates with the rhythm of your heartbeat, a mix of trepidation and hope.

As you settle into the plush interior of the carriage, the door closes with a soft click, sealing you away from the familiar confines of home and ushering you into a world of possibility. The grandeur of the evening awaits, and as the carriage rolls forward, the cobblestones beneath you echo with the anticipation of what’s to come.

You can’t shake the feeling that this night holds the promise of something new—perhaps redemption, or at the very least, the opportunity to reclaim your place among the society that had once felt so cruel. As the carriage sways gently with each turn, you steal a glance at your mother and brother, their expressions a blend of excitement and encouragement. In this moment, surrounded by their unwavering support, you begin to believe that maybe, just maybe, tonight could be different.

Fate is certainly a cruel mistress—despite your greatest hopes, the ball is positively dismal.

The ballroom is every bit as grand as you’d imagined—no, grander. Chandeliers dripping with golden light cascade overhead, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the polished marble floor. The air is thick with the intoxicating scent of roses and jasmine, mingling with the lively music of the orchestra, where violins soar and the occasional trill of laughter punctuates the harmony. Silks and satins swirl in every direction as the season’s debutantes twirl with their suitors, their gowns a riot of color that makes you feel like a ghost in comparison.

But none of it feels as magical as you once thought it would. Instead, you stand to the side, clutching the silk of your gown, its intricate lace and delicate pearls feeling like a weight rather than a luxury. Your mother had ensured that every stitch was perfect, every detail immaculate, to help erase the memory of your disastrous debut. Yet, it hasn’t worked. The whispers haven’t stopped. Even here, amidst the splendor, you can feel the gazes sliding over you, only to dart away, as if your very presence is a reminder of your failure.

The other debutantes are radiant, their smiles bright as they are swept onto the dance floor by handsome, eligible gentlemen. But you... you might as well be invisible.

Your heart sinks as you watch them, a heavy weight settling in your chest. This is meant to be a night of joy and celebration, yet you feel like a fragile glass ornament left behind, forgotten in the bustle of a festive occasion. The laughter and music create a vibrant tapestry of life around you, but inside, you’re drowning in a sea of insecurity and self-doubt.

Just when despair threatens to envelop you entirely, a presence beside you breaks through the haze. Seokmin, as effortlessly charming as ever, sidles up, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Quite the spectacle, isn’t it?” he remarks, his voice low so only you can hear. “I’m certain some of these mamas could lead an army with the way they maneuver their daughters.”

You blink at him, surprised by his lightheartedness. Despite the heat of embarrassment burning your cheeks, a smile pulls at your lips, momentarily pushing aside the shadows clouding your heart.

Before you can respond, he holds his hand out to you, a silent invitation, and for a moment, you hesitate. Seokmin, who could have any lady in the room, is asking you to dance? Your heart stutters, a wild flutter of hope mingling with anxiety, and you glance around, acutely aware of the whispers beginning to stir again. People are noticing the exchange, their eyes narrowing in speculation. But Seokmin stands before you, his hand outstretched, waiting with an easy confidence that momentarily disarms you.

With a deep breath, you place your gloved hand in his, and he leads you to the center of the ballroom as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The moment your feet hit the floor, however, the murmurs begin in earnest, slicing through the enchantment that had briefly settled around you.

“Isn’t that the girl?” someone whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. “The one who fainted?”

“I’d heard,” another voice chimes in, “that no one would ask her to dance. Poor dear, but what did she expect after such a performance?”

You keep your eyes firmly fixed on Seokmin, but each word is like a needle, sharp and painful, pricking at your composure. The worst of it comes when you catch sight of one of the mamas, her face set in a smirk as she whispers to her daughter—the same daughter you had once taken pianoforte lessons with. The girl lets out a small, mean-spirited laugh, and your stomach twists, the laughter echoing like a death toll.

The memory of your debut hangs over you like a dark cloud, heavy and suffocating. Your embarrassment simmers, threatening to boil over. The murmurs become unbearable, and instinctively, you move to pull away from Seokmin, ready to flee. But before you can, his grip tightens, firm but gentle.

“Leaving so soon?” he teases, his voice low and playful, a lifeline in the midst of the storm. “Didn’t your mama teach you it’s bad manners to leave in the middle of a dance?”

You try to focus on his words, on the feel of his hand in yours, but it’s no use. You feel like every eye is on you, dissecting your every movement, judging, whispering, laughing. Seokmin is a shield, but he can’t block all the venom aimed at you.

“I can’t—” you begin, your voice thick with emotion, but Seokmin cuts you off.

He reaches up, loosening a perfectly pinned curl from your hair, letting it fall gently by your cheek. His eyes are soft, almost tender, and in that moment, you feel something flutter to life in your chest. “Eyes on me, Tulip,” he murmurs, and the way he says it—so calm, so sure—makes your heart skip a beat.

For the briefest moment, you think he might love you. That despite the gossip, despite the humiliation, Seokmin sees you—the girl beneath the debutante, the one who has admired him from afar for so long. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Minghao. He stands by the edge of the ballroom, watching. And then—he nods. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but Seokmin notices, and he nods back.

Your blood runs cold.

You blink up at Seokmin, the warmth in your chest turning to ice. “Did you do this because Minghao asked you to?” The words slip out before you can stop them, low and desperate, laced with betrayal.

Seokmin’s brow furrows. “Do what?”

“This. The dance.” You glance around at the swirling crowd, the eyes that have never left you. “The attention. Did you ask me because he wanted you to? To salvage my prospects?”

His confusion is genuine, but the truth is written in his face—open, honest, and devastating. He hesitates, and it’s all you need to know.

“Damn you,” you whisper, voice shaking with fury and hurt. His eyes widen, shocked by the venom in your voice, the curse slipping from your lips like something foreign. “Damn you, Lee Seokmin.”

“Y/N—” he starts, his voice softening, trying to explain, to defend himself. But you don’t give him the chance.

“I thought,” you continue, the words tumbling out in a rush, “I thought you asked me because you wanted to, not because you were told to. I thought you held me in higher regard than this.” You laugh bitterly, a sound that catches in your throat. “How foolish of me.”

The onlookers are whispering more now, their curiosity piqued by the tension in the air, the way your voice trembles with barely contained emotion. But you don’t care. You’re done caring.

With a mocking curtsy, you drop your hands from his and step back. “My lord,” you say, dripping with sarcasm, “I do apologize for any inconvenience to your social standing.”

Seokmin’s eyes widen, panic flashing in them as he realizes the gravity of your words, the weight of what you’re about to do. “Y/N, wait—”

But you don’t wait. You turn on your heel and stalk toward the ballroom’s exit, your skirts swirling around you in a flurry of lilac silk and lace, your heart pounding painfully in your chest. The gasps and murmurs of the guests fade into the background as you flee, your vision blurred with unshed tears.

Behind you, Seokmin’s voice calls out, desperate, pleading. “Y/N, please—stay—”

But you don’t look back. You run.

The chill of the night air bites at your skin as you emerge from the grand ballroom, the sounds of the festivities quickly swallowed by the night. Minghao is hot on your heels, and you hear the familiar click of his shoes echoing against the cobblestone streets. As you enter the carriage, your fury erupts like a dam breaking.

“How dare you meddle in my life?” you exclaim, the words bursting forth with a fervor that sends a shiver down your spine. The tears spill over, mingling with the delicate fabric, each droplet a testament to your exasperation. “I wish to be left alone!”

Minghao, ever the picture of serene composure, raises an eyebrow, though his calm demeanor only serves to ignite your temper further. “I’m only trying to help you, dear sister,” he replies, his voice as soothing as a summer breeze.

“Help? Is that what you call this? You think I’m some delicate flower that requires your constant tending?” Your heart beats faster, each pulse an echo of your indignation. “You are not my keeper, Minghao!”

He opens his mouth, surely to deliver some well-meaning retort, but you are not in the mood for restraint. “You think I can’t manage my own affairs? That I need you to dictate who I should associate with? Let me remind you, I am not a child!”

In a fit of fury, you throw one of your shoes toward him, the delicate slipper soaring through the air; Minghao ducks just in time, the shoe landing with a soft thud against the carriage wall.

“Is this truly your idea of a civilized discussion?” he remarks, feigning offense. “Throwing footwear instead of engaging in rational discourse? My, how you’ve mastered the art of temper tantrums!”

“Better to throw a shoe than to be lectured like a schoolgirl!” you counter, your voice rising to match his. “You presume to know what is best for me, but you are merely reflecting your own apprehensions! You have no concept of my struggles!”

Minghao’s brow furrows, and for a fleeting moment, his expression softens, as if he might relent. But then he leans forward, his voice low and fervent. “And you believe that sulking in the corner will resolve anything? You are only isolating yourself further!”

“Perhaps I wish to be alone!” you declare, your voice ringing with defiance, the words spilling out like water from a broken dam. “Perhaps I grow weary of this charade, that everything is perfect when it is most decidedly not!”

A tense silence envelops the carriage, the air thick with unspoken words. You both breathe heavily, the conflict hanging between you like a fine silk thread ready to snap. The rest of the ride is steeped in a heavy silence, each passing moment thickening the air with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You lean against the plush seat of the carriage, your gaze fixed on the world outside. The blurred lights of the city flicker past, dimming into the encroaching darkness, and with each glimmer that fades from view, a piece of your heart seems to shatter.

Inside, your thoughts spiral. Betrayal gnaws at you like a ravenous beast, devouring any remnants of confidence you had managed to muster before the ball. Seokmin was supposed to be your ally in this fight, your so-called “loyal servant”; a beacon of warmth amidst hushed whispers. Yet now, as the reality settles in, you realize he is merely Minghao's friend, not yours.

How could you have been so naïve? Your mind races back to moments you once cherished: the laughter shared over private nicknames, the comfort of his presence when you felt small and insignificant. He had danced with you, yes, but it had been an act of duty, an obligation to your brother, not a genuine desire to hold you close. You had hoped, foolishly, that he might look beyond your failed debut, that he might understand the person beneath the gown and lace. Yet here you are, reduced to a mere pawn in a game you didn’t even want to play.

A sob catches in your throat, but you swallow it down. Instead, you grip the edges of your gown tightly, feeling the intricate lace and delicate pearls dig into your palms, until you are sure you will have bruises in the morning.

How could Seokmin have allowed himself to be used this way? Did he not care enough to stand by you when it mattered most? He had seen you, yes, but only through the lens of loyalty to Minghao, not as the woman you wished to be, not as the friend you had thought he saw.

By the time the carriage arrives at your home, the bitterness in your chest is a wellspring of anguish. The vibrant ball is now a distant memory, a dream turned nightmare, and all you can do is silently mourn the friendship you thought would endure. You glance at Minghao, his face set in a mask of determination, oblivious to the storm of emotion swirling inside you.

As you step out of the carriage, he follows closely behind, his footsteps heavy with regret. “Y/N,” he begins, his voice low and earnest, “I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought—”

You cut him off, spinning to face him, your expression fierce with hurt. “It’s too late, brother,” you declare, the words like shards of glass spilling from your lips. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. You’ve ruined everything.”

His eyes widen, a mixture of shock and remorse flooding his features. “I never meant to hurt you—”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant!” you snap, frustration and pain intertwining in a chaotic dance. “You acted without thinking. You’ve taken something precious from me.”

Minghao opens his mouth to argue, to defend himself, but the words die on his lips. The truth hangs in the air, heavy and palpable, as the reality of your fractured trust settles between you.

For the rest of the season, you do your best to blend into the walls at every ball, and you succeed. You become a shadow flitting between vibrant gowns and boisterous laughter. Each event becomes a blur of swirling colors and muffled sounds. You move quietly, navigating the sea of opulence with a heavy heart, wearing a mask of indifference that hides the turmoil brewing just beneath the surface.

You linger in corners, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns of wallpaper as if seeking solace in their delicate designs. The bright chandeliers above cast their warm glow on the happy couples swirling in perfect harmony, while you remain firmly anchored in your solitude, an invisible wall erected around your heart. You watch as others twirl and laugh, and your heart aches for Seokmin’s easy companionship, the lively conversations and playful banter that now feel like a distant memory.

With each passing ball, the weight of your isolation grows heavier. Minghao’s well-intentioned apologies echo in your mind, but their impact fades against the reality of your existence. You’ve become an expert at deflecting curious gazes, practicing the art of blending in so well that the laughter and music seem to wash over you like water off a duck’s back.

But it is Seokmin’s absence that echoes loudest in your heart. He might have always been your brother’s best friend, but you had hoped he would be something more—something real. As the music swells, the realization settles heavily on your shoulders: you are utterly, irrevocably alone.

Seokmin doesn’t ask you to dance again for the rest of the season.

Tagging: @kibs-and-bits@moondustmemories@shinwonderful@ivehypnosis@gwend0lyne @thestoryofana13 @mellowamour @blissedjoon @begentlewithme-please @xabsolutelynothingx @reiofsuns2001 @mngyulvrs @mooniewrld @archivistworld @lexyraeworld @ateez-atiny380 @walkinganxiety01 @lovecleastrange

#seventeen fic recs #lee seokmin x reader

92 notes · View notes