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httpknjoon · 3 days ago

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wanna try out some freaky positions? | myg

plot | that time popstar!yn is on her tour's day two in paris, and fans are wondering if she's finally doing the most requested position of all time. the one that may require her bassist (and rumored boyfriend), yoongi.

w.c | 1980

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, humor, enemies to lovers, slow burn

note | i'm still calling it twitter

main masterlist | series masterlist

DAY 301: PARIS, FRANCE

It's everywhere. Predictions about your possible Juno position for your second performance night in Paris are all over social media before you even officially land in the said country. It didn’t help that you and your band members are active on social media, alluding that something is happening behind the scenes. There were also sightings of your close friend, another celebrity, who you knew was staying in France for his vacation. Your fans, who were already elated with the upcoming performance later tonight, flooded you with mentions on Twitter, which resulted in a short and unplanned Q and A.

You were in the middle of your rehearsal break when you finally got hold of your phone after posting that late IG story hours ago. Knowing how excited your fans are at the moment, you reinstalled your Twitter app just to have some interactions with them. It has been so long since you opened your account there, since you were avoiding seeing any tweets about your breakup from last year. You smiled as you typed in your tweet, along with a photo you prepared for today, swaying your feet as you sat at the edge of the stage.

While you have all of your focus on your phone, you didn't even notice Yoongi, who's sitting on one of the empty seats in the area where the VIP audience usually sits. He cannot help but smile while he sips his Americano, looking at you. He wondered what made you so giggly and smiley on your phone. Meanwhile, his phone kept on vibrating in his pocket, which made him reach for it. That’s when he got the answer to his curiosity. Notifications from your Twitter account popped up one after the other. He chuckled before clicking on the app to read more of your tweets.

You giggled at the friendly banter you had with one of your fans. Scrolling down the tag, you smiled even harder when you found an interesting question to reply to.

Yoongi had to laugh with that one. Hearing that, you turned your head up, finally seeing him sitting alone just a few feet down the stage. Your left eyebrow raised, wondering what made him laugh on his phone.

“Where are the others?” you asked all of a sudden, just to get his attention.

Your bassist looked up and met your gaze. “They went out for snacks. I got your coffee here.”

He points out the still-warm takeout coffee cup he has on the empty seat next to him. You smiled before reading yourself to jump from the stage rather than taking the stairs. Seeing that, Yoongi immediately stood up.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’ll jump,” you replied, already inching yourself at the edge.

He clicked his tongue while shaking his head, “No, just take the stairs.”

You pouted. “This is easier. I hate the stairs.”

“You might get hurt. Art and Cal will both kill me if I let you do that,” he said while walking towards you. He then stood just a few feet lower than you.

From your point of view, he looked nonchalant, yet he opened both his arms.

You squinted, “Are you gonna catch me?”

“Nope, I just like opening my arms at random times like this,” he scoffed.

You rolled your eyes. “And I like jumping from high places.”

He shook his head again before telling you sternly, “I don’t care. Just jump, diva.”

So you did. Even though you would have loved to continue the childish banter. And he did catch you, helping you carefully land your feet on the ground. Steadily and easily, he got you with one hand, holding you up against your back. Unconsciously, your face is almost buried in his neck, like you were magnets, they just connect instantly. Maybe it was because he still wore the familiar scent that makes butterflies stir in your stomach.

And maybe that’s why you didn’t pull away right away.

With how close you are, you can feel his heart beating almost at the same pace as yours. Fast and loud. Slowly pulling away, your eyes interlocked with each other. It was a heavy exchange of stares, anchored with something heart-fluttering that you two didn’t have to label anymore. A small smile tugged at your lips as you noticed his eyes moving down.

“Thank you,” you whispered before stepping back.

Yoongi followed behind you, trying not to put his heart over his beating chest. He sat in a seat apart next to you while you took a sip of the coffee. The much-needed caffeine helped you feel warmer and comfortable in your baby blue sweatshirt.

“You liked it?” he asked even though he already knew the answer.

“Yep, I needed that. Thank you,” you replied, putting down the cup. You turned to him. “Why are you here, by the way? You don’t want to explore the city in your free time? We’re only here for a few days.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I just had this gut feeling that you will do something reckless and I need to stick around.”

It was your turn to scoff, “Yoongi, just say you stayed behind for me. It’s okay.”

He looked at you, brows furrowed, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

And he didn’t even deny it, you thought to yourself.

As soon as everyone got back, the rehearsal resumed. This time, it was a dress rehearsal. So you had more time and room for errors and adjustments. While Art is talking with the band about something related to your time on stage, you take a quick scroll on your phone. You instantly took notice of a certain tweet getting a lot of attention. You laughed at it as it sparked something in your brain. You swiped up your finger on the app to see more tweets from your fans, but a notification from a verified account popped up. You turned around to see Yoongi raising his brows. You typed in your phone before giving it to your very pregnant assistant, Cal.

The fishbowl method.

That method is known to be Yoongi's greatest enemy. Whenever any staff member of your tour brings out that glass bowl that was filled with rolled papers, he just knows he will hear his name from that staff member’s tongue. And today is no different day.

It was during the second rehearsal break of the day when Cal came in holding the infamous transparent bowl.

“So, everyone, this is for the Juno performance. We need two people for tonight,” she said it like it’s gonna be something fun.

Although Yoongi literally had no idea why, everyone seemed to be excited upon hearing Cal’s instructions as they cheered, including you. Fred, who is happily married and permanently removed from choices for the Juno performance participants, sat along with you and your dancers. He was cheering too. For more variety, the fishbowl included the names of your band members and dancers.

“YN, will you do the honors of picking two names in our bowl of names?” Cal called you up.

“Okay, here we go. Drumroll, please,” you quipped, but Fred followed, running to his drums and playing them.

Knowing his fate, Yoongi was not surprised anymore when he heard his name after Noah’s. He is not even disappointed or frustrated. He just accepted and expected that the fishbowl method loves him. But what he did not expect was the reason for today’s fishbowl method. While you explained your plan for tonight’s Juno performance pose, Yoongi just shook his head with a smile as he was already used to your straightforward poses. He just didn’t expect that you could be this creative for positions.

“So, do you want to be at the back or the front?” Noah asked, which can sound strange without context.

Yoongi blinked, “What?”

He was obviously dumbfounded, making the others laugh. You tried not to laugh while you bit off your inner cheek.

“He means for the Eiffel Tower,” you explained, which didn’t really clarify anything for him.

Noah cuts in to help, “We are basically the tower itself, while YN is the centerpiece. She will bend forward, and we-” he clasped his hands together, “Are gonna high-five over her.”

“That’s your Juno position for tonight?!” Yoongi looked at him, then to you.

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, the Eiffel Tower!”

When it finally registered in his head, everyone can see Yoongi’s shoulders deflating as he shakes his head with a smile. Just smiling over how stupid yet creative this whole thing is. His defeated stance made Fred and the dancers laugh.

“I swear, we should change that fishbowl method,” he muttered, pushing his hair back.

“I think the fishbowl likes you a lot,” you teased him.

“I don’t think it was just the fishbowl,” he replied, making you pause while you three walk to the heart-shaped center stage.

Noah, who did not hear that last line since he walked faster, snapped his fingers, “Catch up, lovers. Let’s do this test run for the Eiffel Tower. I’m honestly starting to feel like the third wheel here.”

He said the name sarcastically, which resulted to you rolling your eyes and Yoongi scratching the back of his neck. You get into the position. You have your sparkly mic in your right hand, singing the last line before the pose.

“Wanna try out some freaky position?”

The guys stood on your front and back. Noah was on the front, while Yoongi was behind you.

“Have you ever tried… this one?”

You bent forward as Yoongi and Noah high-fived over you, which instantly earned some whistling and cheers from your tour staff and dancers. You laughed, making you lose balance and accidentally grind against Yoongi. You only snapped out of it when he instinctively gripped your hips to steady you in place.

Noah, who saw this happen, gaped, “Oh my god, someone wash my eyes with holy water.”

Being the dramatic one, he threw up his hands and walked away in exaggerated disbelief. You and Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed to be in your own little world as you looked over your shoulder to look at him.

“Oops, sorry,” you said without really meaning it.

He raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

You shrugged, standing back up, “Eh.”

Noah groaned from afar, leaning on one of the big speakers near their instruments, “Where is the HR for this tour?! I need to report something!”

The joke made everyone laugh. Akio, being the second most dramatic one in the band, dramatically consoled Noah. You stifled a laugh, turning around in their direction.

“Oh my god, you’re making me look like I’m a problem here.” you fed into their little bit that was going on.

Your best friend accusedly pointed out his finger, “You are the problem, and so is Tower B over there.”

Mr. Tower B, who stood next to you, remained casual as he muttered, “I don’t mind what’s going on. I kinda liked the view.”

The subtle smugness in his statement got a loud reaction from everyone. Fred laughed. The dancers howled. Akio and Noah groaned. The rehearsals are getting a little messier so Art had to step in.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s go rehearse the performance from the top again,” he signalled the dancers to stand up before turning to you and Yoongi. “And less thrusting, this time.”

You gasped even though you knew he was just teasing you, “There was no thrusting! I accidentally ground against him, that’s very much different!”

Art gave you a look that said, “Uh-huh, sure.”

Yoongi remained unbothered, “Yeah, thrusting is different. It requires intent.”

With that unexpected remark, the room erupted with laughter. All while your eyes widened, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Yoongi!” you scolded him through an embarrassed gritted grin.

He looked at you, nonchalant as he blinked innocently, “What? I was just explaining!”

SERIES TAGLIST

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit @goodnight-n-go-home @ronyiboniyy @jimeg629 @lveegsoi @madussthoughts @jalexad @ryryvna @kiki-zb @kam9404 @rtyuy1346 @esam28

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones @butnotmontana @mar-lo-pap @ficluvr613 @senaqsstuff @stars4kooo

#bass guitarist! yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi au #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts drabble #bts aus #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #yoongi fanfic #bts suga #httpknjoon #Spotify #love is... on tour myg

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tmpestuous · 2 days ago

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the other side

summary: the avengers rescue their newest recruit from hydra: you.

pairing: bucky x (future)avenger!reader

warnings: canon level violence, mentions of torture by hydra all throughout, mentions of death/murder, nightmares, guilt, trauma, angst, but bucky is a sweetheart who the world doesn’t deserve

word count: 4.5k

a/n: going baaaack in time for this one with the start of phoenix’s journey with the avengers. i’ve had this unfinished for a while and have finally completed it (: there will be a second part to this, but this can definitely still be read as a standalone; i hope you enjoy <3

phoenix & the winter soldier masterlist

Fuck.

The pounding in your head could equate to being repeatedly hit with a hammer. Only your reality was much worse.

The man currently smashing your head into the pavement was one you’d rarely seen. He seemed to be in control of the entire organization currently holding you captive, immediately ordering around operatives and seeing the employees fall to his will.

He came once every other week. His name was unbeknownst to you, just like many things since the moment you’d stepped foot in this makeshift prison. The source of his anger was also a mystery, as you were dragged from your ‘room’ (if you could even call it that), shoved in that dreaded chair in front of dozens of people speaking in Russian, with an IV lodged in your arm and an irate man staring at you with disgust.

“Why have we not tried putting words in her brain yet?” The man spat at the operative to his left, seemingly a scientist.

“Unfortunately, none of our methods have worked. We do not have a record of how Dr. Zola managed to do so with our Soldat—”

“You mean to tell me we have no one as smart as a scientist from fucking 70 years ago?”

The scientist shook his head promptly. “I’m afraid not, sir.”

He grunted. “And the serum?”

“The enhancement serum was a success, but only on our current subject here. The others have not seemed to respond to it very well. She seems to be our strongest soldier. She is in top condition, save for an incident at the beginning of her treatment,” he rambled, the man looking at him as if he’d answered the question wrong. “The control serum is also effective, sir. We have currently extended its effectiveness to around seven hours, but we have not tested it in the field.”

“Why not?” The man spat once more, his tone filled with disgust.

“While attempting to suppress her memories, it seems that the serum wipes her memories almost entirely, which sometimes included our direct orders. We cannot send her out to the field if she cannot provide us with a mission report. She also resists when we attempt to subdue her—”

And that’s how you ended up snatched out of the chair, thrown on the floor, with your nose taking the brunt of the force from your head being smashed over and over.

“Not as fucking strong as they claim, hm?” The man snarled as he leaned over you, then swiftly stood up, ordering the men to get started on sending you on the field.

You met the chair yet again, your arm reintroduced to the IV, all while your head thumped like a heartbeat and blood rushed out of your nose.

A plea sat on your tongue, though it never came out. And soon enough, that moment joined all of the other memories you were forced to lose.

There was no way for you to tell how long you’d been here, a repetitive cycle every time you woke up that you were utterly unaware of. It left you drained, not knowing who you were, where you were, anything.

You counted your luck when you were left alone for over a week. Starving for sure and a broken nose to add to it, but you’d choose it over waking up with a lack of recollection.

After the thirteenth day of solitude, soldiers would come in and take you back to the chair every day for a little over another week. They argued with the scientists about injecting you with the serum, claiming they needed you for a mission.

“The феникс is needed for an operation,” they always said.

Somehow the scientists always convinced them otherwise, instead giving you hydration and vitamins to account for the lack of food in your system. One of them always looked at you with pain in his eyes, seemingly an apology for everything that’s happened. Not like you remembered much of it anyway.

Two days after that, you noticed that the same scientist was gone. Dead, you presumed.

Six days later, some of the scientists had come in and taken your vitals again, your questions falling on deaf ears as they’d never come into your ‘room’ before. Once they’d finished, they silently gestured to the guards and exited.

“On your feet,” one of them spat towards you, pulling you to stand by your wrists before tying them together. He and one other guard led you to a room with a group of girls, ages varying from teen to maybe middle-aged.

“Stay here, феникс,” a soldier said, untying the rope from your wrists, hearing that same nickname again. “We will come back for you. It’s a big day.”

A big day. Couldn’t mean anything positive for you.

“Phoenix,” a slightly older woman said to you after the soldier left.

“What?” You questioned, your voice a lot more hoarse than you thought it’d be.

“That is what they call you. Us. But you are their favorite.”

You nodded, not exactly having much to say. The word sounded similar to its English translation, but you never thought much of it. The reason for the name was unknown to you, but knowing what Hydra was capable of, it probably meant no good. They’d call you it so often, you didn’t even know if they knew your name. The one piece of identity you at least were able to hold on to. It seemed so miniscule, but it kept you from losing yourself entirely.

After what seemed to be a few hours, the soldiers started to gather all of the girls and women in the room. From what you could hear, they were being dragged down the hall. Almost every one of them begged to be left alone, promises of good behavior to avoid whatever fate they were about to meet. The pleas fell out of reach of your hearing, silent as a door slammed far away.

As the guards were finishing rounding everyone up, there was the sound of rapid gunfire from the opposite end of the floor.

“What the hell was that?” One of the guards asked, quickly turning around and aiming his rifle at the empty hallway.

“Doesn’t sound good,” another one muttered. “We need to hurry it up.”

You noticed they looked more than uncertain as you analyzed their expressions, both of them putting their guard up with their weapons. There were only two women left beside you, but the thought of taking all of you to wherever they needed to was now an afterthought.

They listened, and as you all heard a few more rounds of gunfire, they rushed out of the room. You quickly got up and grabbed the door before it could seal shut, looking out into the hallway as the guards turned the corner sharply.

“Do you think someone is here to save us?” One of the women behind you asked softly.

“I never get my hopes up,” the other woman responded. She was the one who translated for you earlier. “What do you think, феникс?”

You immediately turned back around to look at her, your foot in the doorway to keep the door open. “Don’t call me that,” you said, no clear tone of aggravation in your voice, but not a kind one either. Turning your attention back to the hallway, you listened for motion. “I can’t tell what’s going on, maybe we should move.”

“Are you crazy?” The first woman asked. You couldn’t see her expression, but something told you there was fear all over her face. “They’ll kill us. You’re the only one with any skill here.”

“I don’t know what skills I have to begin with.”

From what the scientists and guards had argued about, you knew they had trained you in combat. You weren’t confident about any moves you may have had in your repertoire without the help from the serum. It seemed as though it was second nature while under their control, but what good are you without it? There weren’t many signs telling you to take the risk of trying.

“What if it’s the Avengers?” The first woman spoke up again.

“The Avengers…” you said, the name sounding familiar.

“Earth’s mightiest heroes,” the second woman added. “Two or three of them have Hydra history.”

Racking your brain, you remembered the guards exclaiming about a mission with ‘the Avengers.’ A few pictures of people, but they were hyper focused on two. One with a shield, one with a metal arm. The one with the metal arm was the one they wanted—“needed” you to kill.

They called him all sorts of names, but the one that stood out to you was soldat. Soldier. The only one you could somewhat make out. They’d referred to you as a soldier a few times, though you couldn’t feel far from it. You’d wondered if he had made it out, escaped. Something you’ve been dreaming of, longer than your memory allowed you to recall.

Your thoughts were cut off as you heard one of the guards making his way back, swiftly closing the door and sitting back on the floor.

The two women next to you shrunk inwards in fear, prompting you to look around for anything useful to arm yourself with. You trusted that you weren’t entirely useless, and the less people they harmed, the better the world was. Seeing an old, rusty crowbar, you reached and grabbed it, hiding it behind you as the guard opened the door and looked directly at you.

“Ready for your first real mission, феникс?” He said, a distressed look on his face. “Get up and follow me.”

You did as told, still hiding the crowbar behind you. As he turned his back, you swung as hard as you could. After grimacing at the wound left in the man’s head as he dropped to the floor, you threw the crowbar aside, turning to the women still on the floor.

“Let’s go,” you ordered them softly, grabbing the guard’s rifle and handgun before exiting the room.

You handed the older woman the handgun before pointing the rifle, walking slowly to the intersection of the hallway. Peeking into the adjacent hallway, you saw nothing for a few heartbeats until a shield made its way down and back the hall parallel to your position.

Your hearing then picked up footsteps coming towards you from behind, the woman beside you turning and shooting a guard before he (or you) had the chance to retaliate.

“Holy shit,” the youngest woman said.

“Think we’ve got company,” you heard another woman say from down the hall. Was your hearing always this fucking detailed?

Looking back down the intersected hallway, you saw them. Captain America. Black Widow.The Avengers were actually here. Turning back quickly, you looked at the women again.

“Find the other girls,” you told them. “I’m gonna get us out of here.”

“And how should we find them? And how can we leave you by yourself?” The older woman asked, a concerned expression etched onto her face.

“I’m their favorite, you said it yourself,” you spoke softly rather than confidently. “Trust me on this one.”

They both nodded as they made their way down the corridor to your right, not before taking the fallen guard’s weapons as well.

There was a plan in the back of your mind, an escape. It was so close, but there was an inadmissible ache in your chest. Your freedom meant nothing if you left everyone else to suffer, to die. You couldn’t live with yourself if that were the case.

Once the women were gone, you moved to face them. Instinctively, you aimed your rifle, but neither of them moved into a defensive position. Their stares felt pitiful, but your grip on the rifle didn’t falter.

“We found her,” the redhead said, her hand on her ear. “Second floor, east wing.”

They were looking for you. Remaining somewhat unsure of their motives, you still didn’t drop your weapon, taking a step back each time they stepped toward you.

“We’re not gonna hurt you,” you heard the man say. Captain America. He looked a lot taller than in the pictures you were shown. “We’re here to help.”

“How are you gonna do that?” Your voice came out a lot shakier than intended.

“We’re gonna get you out of here,” the redhead spoke again, placing her hand on her chest. “I’m Natasha. This is Steve. Our friends Sam and Bucky are in the building too.”

They stepped toward you again, taking a few more when they realized you didn’t retreat. Lowering your rifle, you didn’t even realize you had tears in your eyes. “Just me?”

Their expressions turned into ones of confusion.

“You said you found me,” you elaborated. “To whoever you were talking to. I’m not the only one here.”

“Who else is here?” Steve asked. “Did they test on other people?”

“Y-yeah, other girls,” you wiped your eyes before the tears fell. “I sent two of them to go find the rest—you really thought it was only me in here? Aren’t you guys supposed to be the smart ones?”

Natasha chuckled. “She’s got a point.”

“Our intel was incomplete,” Steve retorted. “What’s your name?” After responding, Steve nodded. “Okay, Y/N, let’s find the girls and get you all out of here. Where are the girls now?”

You led them down the corridor where you’d sent the other two women. A couple of Hydra agents had found you, Natasha and Steve standing in front of you immediately as the chaos ensued.

Fighting was a lot easier than you anticipated it to be, feeling like muscle memory almost, even if your moves weren’t perfect. You used the butt of the rifle to hit most of the guards, not wanting to kill anyone. Even if they deserved it.

Your stamina was also clearly enhanced by whatever they injected into you. Steve and Natasha took note of it, sharing silent exchanges that they were unaware you had noticed. They still protected you by taking the brunt of the combat, your inexperience loud and clear from having your brain toyed with so often.

It had been roughly 45 minutes of fighting off guards and inspecting rooms before finally finding the girls, only there was no chance of saving them.

The two women from earlier had found you again, accompanied by a man you found out was Sam as Natasha mentioned earlier. Tear-filled eyes, drenched cheeks, and rapid breaths. Rambles of death and blood and fear for their own lives, apologizing profusely as if they’d failed to save everyone.

“They’re all gone?” Your voice barely above a whisper.

They nodded in shame, still crying with no signs of stopping. You looked toward the door as they said it was best not to see the destruction. Their hands gripped your shoulder in an attempt to stop you from going into the room, but you pushed through anyway. Bodies were scattered on the floor, some on top of each other. A single bullet hole in each of their heads, the crimson pool flooding beneath them making you feel sick.

“We have to go,” Sam said urgently to Natasha and Steve. “Got movement from out east, they called in backup. Bucky’s got the jet ready to go.”

Your feet felt like they were glued to the ground. You couldn’t look away from the massacre in front of you, studying it like an obligation. Thinking back to the guard telling you it was a ‘big day.’

They were going to kill all of them. All of them except you. They probably were gonna have you kill them yourself.

Steve pulled you out of your trance with a bit of force on his end, the tears falling down your face uncontrollably. The first memory you could keep that would haunt you forever.

Walking to the jet as one of three women left, you also couldn’t stop crying. The other women were as distraught as you, but the guilt wasn’t the same.

“But you are their favorite.”

You couldn’t get the words to stop repeating in your head, accompanied by the insolent migraine from tears mixed with dehydration. Their guilt came from surviving, and yours did, too. But you were always going to survive, while they got lucky. Hydra wanted you alive. Hydra wanted them dead with the rest of the girls. A shared survivor’s guilt separated by the politics of who was useful to their agenda.

Once you all made it to the jet, you saw him. He was unmistakable, leaving you to stop in your tracks while everyone continued. He made eye contact with you and sighed, almost like he knew of a possible conflict.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, making the rest of the team turn around.

“I know,” you said softly. You had no idea why you felt so small, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“You have nothing to worry about, Y/N,” Natasha said. “You’re safe. We’ll get the three of you back to our headquarters and find your families.”

After a nod and a deep breath, you boarded the jet. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you before he took a seat next to Sam.

You didn’t have it in your heart to say you weren’t sure if you had a family to go back to, but something about the look in Natasha’s eyes when she said it told you she knew already.

Sitting back in your seat, you closed your eyes and counted your graces.

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you woke up with a startle. Natasha looked down at you, a friendly smile on her face. You looked to see everyone leaving the jet, Bucky giving you a quick glance before heading out.

“We’re here,” Natasha pulled your attention back to her.

After you stood, you followed Natasha off the jet. You saw the big ‘A’ for Avengers outside of the building, workers scattered around the hangar. Doctors tried to assess you, but Natasha assured them you were okay as she led you inside.

Taking you to a conference room, you sat at the big table. Natasha sat next to you.

“You saved those women, you know,” she set a file on the table, one you didn’t realize she had in her hands. “We were able to track down their loved ones. Couldn’t have done that without you.”

You decided to play with your fingers instead of saying anything. You didn’t feel like a savior or a hero; it was hard to feel such a way when so many others got killed. Those women had saved themselves, they could have gotten killed any moment after you’d sent them off.

“We couldn’t find—”

“I know,” you cut her off, clearing your throat. “I don’t remember much of them but I know they’re gone.”

Looking down, Natasha nodded without a word, opening the folder in front of her. “We’re giving you a choice. We do need to deprogram you from Hydra’s training, however long that might take. But afterwards… You can stay here, train, and join our team. If you don’t want to do that, we can help you rejoin civilian life.”

“You don’t have to make that choice now,” Bucky said as he walked into the room, placing a glass of water in front of you. You immediately took a sip. “You just got out of a horrible place, and this job isn’t easy. Take your time.”

“You could’ve let me finish, Barnes,” Natasha glared at him before looking at you once more. “Until we get everything figured out, you can stay here in the residential wing. Tony’s set up a room for you.”

“Tony?”

“Iron Man,” Natasha corrected. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t know all of us by name yet. You’ll meet everyone soon enough, though. Bucky will show you to your room and we’ll reconvene tomorrow. Okay?”

You nodded once. “Thank you.”

Natasha left the room and you finished drinking your water, looking at Bucky as he grabbed the glass for you, a friendly half-smile on his face. You’d wondered if they sent him for a reason, seeing as he was the one with the most Hydra history. He didn’t seem like a big conversationalist, which was comforting. There wasn’t much for you to say after all. Questions still ran through your mind, however, with wonders of finding out more about the man you were now following down the hall and across to another building on the land.

After entering and making a left, Bucky walked to the final door on the left side of the hallway, turning to look back at you.

“You’ll have everything you need in here,” he said as opened the door to your bedroom, letting you inside though he didn’t enter himself. “Nat left a ton of clothes she thinks will fit. The kitchen and the common area are down the hall and to the left; the fridge is fully stocked. Sam usually likes to do all the cooking when Wanda doesn’t beat him to it.”

You let out a chuckle. Bucky wasn’t even trying to be funny, but he was glad you weren’t feeling uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” you turned back to him. He was still standing in the doorway. “I, um… I don’t know how to repay you guys for all of this.”

Bucky shook his head. “No payment needed. I know what you’re going through.”

“I know,” you fiddled with your fingers, thinking that your suspicions may have been correct. “I’m sorry about earlier. On the jet. They told me a lot about you. I think I didn’t know how to react to actually… seeing you.”

He shook his head once more, offering you another half-smile. “No hard feelings. I’m around if you need me. Make yourself comfortable.”

He closed the door behind him after you nodded in response, leaving you alone.

You finally took in the environment around you. This was the first time you were alone since this morning, but it was a complete 180 from the situation you had found yourself in at the start of the day.

A full bed, an en-suite bathroom, a TV, and a desk. You couldn’t remember a time you had your own room in this way. Where you were kept in Hydra couldn’t be considered a room at all after seeing this in front of you.

It was a lot, perhaps too overwhelming to process all that transpired in the last 14 hours. But you allowed yourself to.

You were safe. You escaped. You were free.

First, you decided to shower. You stayed in there so long that the water went cold, but you were so relieved about being clean that you felt like you needed to savor it. After the water was too cold to tolerate anymore, you got dressed, putting on a t-shirt and sweats. All the clothes smelled like they had just been washed and dried.

You avoided every mirror, not wanting to look at yourself and whatever state you were in. You thought it was best to sleep, carefully getting under the covers. It felt nice to have an actual bed, but the mattress was too soft and uncomfortable. You could feel some of your muscles cramping up. Sighing to yourself, you settled on lying on the floor. Your exhaustion caught up to you quickly, falling into your first deep slumber in forever.

Your body was adjusted to not eating for prolonged periods of time, so hunger cues weren’t in store for you. Bucky assumed as much, knocking on your door to bring you a bowl of Sam’s famous gumbo when he hadn’t seen you come out for a few hours. Listening intently through your door, he picked up on your breathing, which sounded more erratic than rhythmic. Opening the door, he saw you lying on the floor, understanding why right away. He also saw tears on your face as your face contorted in fear.

Knowing all the signs of a nightmare, Bucky anxiously knelt down after setting the bowl on the desk in your room, shaking you gently. “Hey, Y/N,” he spoke softly. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

He repeated the words he’d heard so many times. His own nightmares weren’t as bad as they used to be, but he still got them often. Bucky comforted you, releasing the tension from your shoulders until your eyes shot open, your fists immediately up in defense.

“Woah, it’s me, hey,” Bucky spoke softly, grabbing your wrists tightly enough to stop you, but softly enough not to hurt you. He rubbed them with his thumbs, still trying to soothe you. “You’re okay, you were just having a nightmare. You’re not in any danger anymore. You’re safe.”

You looked up at Bucky, your expression unreadable to him as you were still catching your breath. He let go of your wrists before you sat up, wiping the tears off your face.

“I’m sorry,” you said in the same small voice you gave him outside of the jet. It made Bucky’s chest ache.

He barely knew you, but what Hydra did to people was something even he was unaware he could come back from. It felt like something worse than traumatizing, if that were even possible. He may not know much about your time there, as the information was little to none. Steve and Tony were still working on that. However, he knew more than anything that none of this could have been easy for you.

“You’ll never have anything to apologize for while you’re here,” he said sincerely, telling you the words he would tell a younger version of himself. “You’ve been through a lot, both mentally and physically. I’ve been there, and it’s not easy. But you’ll get better, day by day.”

All you did was look at him, a hint of gratitude in your eyes that only he would be able to make out. Instead of pushing you into a conversation, he got up and grabbed the bowl of gumbo with a spoon.

“I’m not sure if you’ll eat all of it, but I’m assuming you need to eat something,” he spoke lightly, his tone one of comfort as he passed you the bowl.

Immediately digging in, it was like you had forgotten what it was like to eat. Bucky knew that feeling. He stayed with you until you ate about two-thirds of it, looking at him as he sat next to you on the floor, passing him the bowl with a look of guilt on your face.

“Sorry,” you shook your head. “It’s really good, I’m just kinda full.”

“Nothing to be ashamed about, I’m just glad you got something in your system. I’m sure everyone else will be too,” Bucky smiled at you, taking the bowl and standing. “Get some rest. Nat will probably wanna talk in the morning. My room’s right across the hall if you need me.”

“Will you be there?” You asked so softly, Bucky almost missed it.

“Tomorrow? Do you want me to be?” He asked, not wanting to assume. You nodded twice. “Okay, alright. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” you said, pulling your knees to your chest. “For everything.”

“Anytime,” he gave you one last smile before leaving the room.

Bucky knew you would be okay.

part two of this should come in the next few days… i’ve been obsessed with developing lore lately. i hope you enjoyed!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Wayward 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Duke!Steve Rogers (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you accompany the court to a foreign kingdom for a tournament of four kings and find yourself entwined with a staunch duke.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The second round of the day has the riders a bit weary. The crowd remains raucous, cheering for those under the same banner, jeering those from another. The sun bores into you, a steady speckle across your scalp.

As they call Duke Rogers, you sit up and Gertrude giggles. She jabs your arm.

"Oh, he is rather fetching, now I think of it." She teases.

"It isn't you that needs marry him," you say. "I can't recall, did you have a suitor?"

"Eh, don't be uncouth."

"Me? Do you recall when you thought Lord Terrence was going to make an offer? What did you say to me? I was... lowly?"

"I was japing...." she mutters.

You chuckle, "as do I."

She sighs. You look out across the field as they announce the opponent. 'Lord Rumlow.' You've not heard of him though you might say the same and many, and more would of you

The riders set their horses. The crowd hushes, visors lower, and the flag drops. The thunder of hooves shakes the stands as voices erupt. Then the collision echoes between the adversaries.

Duke Rogers remains in his saddle, upright, his opponent slightly hunched over his lance. Grooms scramble to direct the horses around. A lull falls over the anxious crowd.

Rogers speaks to the attendants unbothered as they check his lance. Rumlow remains bent for a moment before he can sit up. The grooms look to each other and the mediator gestures. An argument breaks out as you watch the motions of their hands.

Rumlow tears his helm of and throws it. The white flag is thrown. He is unfit to continue on.

Rumlow kicks and attendant and harries his horse. The men scatter as the horse pounds the ground and the angry lord aims his lance. The tip glances of Lord Rogers visor and as he only deflects it after impact. He is tipped in his saddle, laying back against the flank of his panicking horse.

You cry out and hop off the bench. Gertrude wails and you elbow past her. Without a thought, your feet carry you from the box.

You haven't an wherewithal of how to get to the Duke. You wind down the rows and to the barrier along the pit. You follow the low wall and watch as Lord Rogers is taken down from his saddle.

He walks with the support of an attendant and disappears through the tunnel. You wave to a groom and holler for his attention. He approaches.

"He is my betrothed. I must see him," you are much unlike yourself, demanding.

Your heart hammers. Perhaps you have built some affection for the duke, but the thought that your father may be disappointed of another lost opportunity gnaws even deeper.

The groom considers you. Peasant do not wear fine fabrics or gems. He lets you through and leads you into the tunnel with deference.

"The duke should be--" he waves ahead.

You flit past him and slap your hand on the heavy wooden door. Lord Rogers' answers from the other side. His tone is agitated. "What bother now?"

You are heartened that he can speak. You tug on the ring and let yourself in. You must be certain. You cannot think now of traveling home with your father to once more wallow in his resent.

"My Lord, you are well." You proclaim.

He tilts his head as you as he presses a wad of fabric to his brow. He sits calmly on a bench. He waves his fingers. "The door, my lady."

You push the door shut and turn to him. Only then do you notice his full state. He is unclothed to the waist His tunic is cut and hangs over his belt. His bear chest is woven in thick hair that trails down his muscled stomach. There are dark marks around his ribs.

Your eyes round. "My lord, apologies, I didn't mean--"

"Do not. You only show your devotion," he wipes his brow and pulls away the cloth. "Is it very bad?"

There is a gash in his brow. You rush to him and frame his face as you examine the damage. "My lord. Are you certain you are well?"

"Do I not look it?"

"You are alert and yet," you brush your thumb up his temple. "You are bloodied. I saw the attack."

"A scoundrel, to say the least," he scoffs. "But I should have known Rumlow to commit such an affront."

"Oh, my lord," you reach for the cloth in his hand and slip it free. You put it to the cut again as it beads with blood. You hold it there gently, sweeping back a lock from his forehead.

Your eyes meet his. You're startled by their blueness. He gazes at you undeterred.

"My lord," you murmur.

"My lady," his lips curve softly.

"I'm afraid in my horror, I've forgot some propriety," You go to draw your hand back but he catches it. He pushes the cloth back to his brow. You quiver at the strength in his grip.

"My lord."

"You are merely doing what a wife should. You are tending to me. You worry for me." He stares up at you. "I dare say my own king does not care so much."

His hand trails along your wrist and forearm. A shiver spreads beneath his fingertips. You look at the edge of the gash.

"But my lord, we're not yet wed. I didn't... I was unthinking when I came to you alone--"

"You are promised to me. I needn't ask permission," his hand slips to your waist and he moves you closer.

"My lord," you gasp.

"Be good to me, my lady, and I will be as good a husband," his hand feels along the sash around your waist and he rubs the folds of your skirt between his fingers. "Nothing will stop me from claiming you as wife."

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #wayward #medieval au #captain america #mcu #marvel #avengers

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kinkley-love · 2 days ago

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the much requested part 2!

(continued from here)

They all stared at him. Tommy didn’t react, just slid into the chair they had left open for Buck. He looked over them. Focused on each of them, met their eyes for a moment before sliding to the next. He looked at Eddie last, and when he got to him, his gaze didn’t shift away.

"I know you’re grieving. We all are. I’m not about to tell you how you can or can’t grieve, or mourn, or process what you need to, with one exception. You cannot do so in a way that hurts anyone else. Especially Evan."

Eddie scoffed. They all turned to him.

"Something to say, Diaz?" Tommy all but spat.

Eddie shook his head. "I just— c’mon man. This has to be a joke. Who do you think you are to do this? You think any of us could hurt him like you did? You haven’t even talked to Buck in what, months?"

Ravi snorted. He knew they had talked. Had done much more than talk.

Eddie side-eyed him. Apparently Eddie was the only one allowed to interrupt. "Seriously, Kinard. Yeah, see? I can last-name you too. You what, steal Buck’s phone to get us all here, and now you’re coming off all high and mighty?"

Tommy didn’t rise to the bait. "I didn’t steal Evan’s phone," he replied calmly. "I explained I needed to talk to you all and asked if I could use it."

Eddie looked taken aback by that. Ravi was pleased to see Hen and Chim didn’t.

"Look. I know you’re all a family, that you all lost Bobby, and I’m not discounting that. But Bobby was a father to him, and Bobby forced Buck to leave him to die."

Ravi looked to the table, stared at the grooves in the wood in front of him. No one really talked about what happened in the lab after they had gotten out. They had all been getting decontaminated, getting checked over; it had taken some time to realize Bobby and Buck hadn’t followed them out. Then Athena was getting called in, and all felt silent until Athena came back out, her face like stone, and told someone to call the coroner. Until Ravi was looking around, frantic, trying to figure out who was missing, who was gone. Until Ravi panicked, because neither Buck nor Bobby were there, but Tommy was there, Tommy was begging for turnouts so he could go to Buck, so it wasn’t Buck who was gone, it was—

Tommy’s voice pulled him back. "And yes, Diaz. Evan did everything he could."

Ravi looked back up, surprised. That emphasis. Wait, had Eddie...

Hen beat him to asking, though she addressed Eddie when Ravi wanted to turn to Tommy. "Did you say he didn’t?"

"No!" Eddie tried to defend himself, but he backpedaled at Tommy’s glare. "Okay, maybe, but not exactly, I just." He switched to the offensive. "Look, you know I wasn’t there. He asked if I thought he’d done everything he could and I just said I didn’t know because I wasn’t there!"

"What the fuck, Eddie." They all turned to Chimney. He hadn’t spoken since arriving, and his words now were even more forceful in their flatness.

"I wasn’t there," Eddie repeated softly.

Ravi couldn’t let that slide. "That shouldn’t matter. Do you think for one second that Buck wouldn’t have done everything in his power to save any one of us, let alone Cap?"

Eddie shook his head, finally cowed.

Ravi took a deep breath, settling himself before he turned to Tommy. "What else do you have? I’m sure there’s a reason you wanted us all here." He didn’t want a dressing down like Eddie had gotten, but if he had done something to deserve it, it needed to be done.

But Tommy relaxed his sharp posture, seeming to deflate. "Look. I don’t want to betray Evan’s confidence, but I can see how much this is hurting him. Before he died, Bobby told Buck to take care of you all, and he’s trying his best. All you have to do is let him."

He turned to Hen, "Don't make plans behind his back or act like he can’t handle being part of difficult conversations."

He turned to Chim, "Don’t order takeout for you and Hen and act like it’s no big deal when you don’t include everyone else."

He glanced at Ravi, who braced himself, but Tommy moved past him to Eddie. "And for the love of God, if you make one more comment about him making everything about himself, I will make sure you never get a moment alone with him again."

Tommy looked over them all. "You’re a family, even if you’ve lost a member. Act like it. Let him cook for you. Let him take care of you. If it gets to be too much, tell him, talk to him, not everyone else behind his back. Understand?"

A chorus of subdued affirmations met him.

"Good." He rapped the table, then stood. "See you around." He took a few steps, then turned back. "Call if you need anything."

Ravi nodded, then watched him go.

(combined with the first part on ao3)

#protective tommy #bucktommy #911 spoilers #anti eddie diaz #ravi pannikar #chimney han #hen wilson #911 fic #kore writes

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yoonmetogether · 1 day ago

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chapter 2. take it

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader - brother/mob boss!Seokjin, brother/mob boss!Jeongguk genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow burn, age gap summary: jin is gone and it’s up to you and jeongguk to start running the city. d is right behind you. warnings: angst, arranged marriage, drug addiction/rehab, family drama, parental loss, alcohol, smoking, crime, drugs and weapons trading, guns, references to murder, reader’s future-FIL is a d*ck, reader's fiance gets a little touchy, namjoon is judgmental but supportive, boxing, 2seok if you squint, surprise cameo minors pls dni wc: 10.8k oof my bad i'm incapable of keeping shit short apparently @glossdebut my girl aqua ate this banner upppppppppp do yall see this??????? she had a vision and she brought it to lifeeeeeeeeeeee i only gave her a little idea and she just turned it into a work of art!!!! I look at it about 20 times a day 😅 her mind is so sexy for this MWAH and then on top of that she beta’d this chapter (twice!!) she’s really just a queen thank you aquaaaaaa ily!! <3333333333333333333333333 another huuuuuuuuuuuuuugeeeee shoutout to @moochii-daisies for also giving my rough draft a read ughksndn words cannot express how much her enthusiasm and interest in this story means to me thank you my lovely!! <333333333333333333

masterlist

Jin leaves in the middle of the night.

Your breath comes out in thick, white puffs as you tiptoe out of the house at 1am where there’s a black Santa Fe SUV idling in front of the stairs.

The shadow you despise waits for you at the bottom, and not a single word or look is exchanged as he opens the rear door, although faint remnants of his cologne and cigarettes follow as you slide onto the leather seat, opposite of your brother. While you buckle up, a morose ambiance fills the silence between you, Jeongguk’s hand finding yours and giving a gentle squeeze that grounds him.

“So he’s heading out on a fishing boat?” you ask to crack the sullenness after the SUV speeds out onto the road towards the highway.

“Mhmm,” he responds in a dull tone.

“He’ll enjoy that.”

“Yeah.” He turns his head to swallow a bittersweet expression. “A while ago, I caught him looking up his chances of getting into NASA. That was always his dream.” A smile breaks out onto your face, eclipsing the force of intense gravity weighing in your chest.

“He’d make a good astronaut.” A lump in your throat, you look out of the tinted window, frowning at the sky blocked by pollution and the fog of an oncoming snowstorm. “Maybe on the boat, he’ll get to see more stars. Can’t see shit in the city.”

“Remember when we tried to buy him that star for his birthday?”

“Oh, yeah!” You half-laugh, brightening at the memory. “He wouldn’t have been so pissed it was a scam if you hadn’t stolen his card to pay for it.”

“It was your idea!”

“Well, you were the one who spent all the money we both saved up to buy that jacket for-” You close your stupid mouth when Jeongguk’s expression drops and hardens.

“I’m sorry.” Remorse builds in your gut at the way his teeth gnaw at his lip ring, a dent between his brows, and that distant glaze in his eyes takes over. You grab his hand again before he can drift too far away.

“Don’t go there, okay?”

To try and keep him with you, you pull his arm to rest over the console, and start tapping your fingertips over his jacket to a tune you hear in your head, visualizing black and white keys.

“‘Merry go round of life’?” he inquires after you get through the first few phrases of the intro.

You smile, happy that he was able to pick up on it so quickly. “Your favorite.”

“When’s the last time you played?” The shakiness in his voice dissipates.

“It’s been a while. But Jay has a nice Steinway in the living room that I’m pretty sure is just for show, so I’ll play that whenever I have time.”

“Hm.” The car hums in silence for a few moments.

Now that you’re back home, things won’t ever be the same as before but at least you’re on the same side of the world as your brother. You won’t be in the same house, but you’ll be in the same city, doing the same things - in a way.

Most importantly, you’ll be there for each other. And that’s what gives you hope that everything will be okay. Even if Jin won’t be here, at least you have- Oh!

You sit up straight, turning to face Jeongguk fully, suddenly remembering what you’ve been itching to ask him about.

“Do you think something’s going on with Jin and Hope?”

“Huh?” his eyebrows raise as if you caught him off guard, but a small smile follows. “Oh. Yeah.”

You gasp excitedly. “Spill!”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Then how do you know?”

He shrugs. “Hyung’s not as subtle as he thinks whenever Hope comes around.”

“You never tried asking him?”

“You know he doesn’t talk about anything like that.”

Yeah. Jin has always had a penchant for dismissing or deflecting any talk of his relationships outside of work, instead turning the conversation back on you and Jeongguk. Not once has he mentioned friends beyond the capos in his circle, and it’s always made you sad just how much he’s missed out on because of circumstances out of his control.

“Maybe now he’ll have some more freedom to make connections.”

“He’s on the run, Angel. He won’t get to stay in one place long enough.”

“Mm.” You almost retort that you know very well what that’s like, but decide against it. Jin is going away for a completely different reason. Still. Neither of you were left with a choice.

“I wish we could go with him,” you whisper with a tug in your heart. It’s been ages since you’ve all been together, but now Jin is being ripped away. It’s not fair. You just want your family.

Why is the universe hellbent on keeping that out of reach?

“Me too,” Jeongguk replies quietly. “But we have duties to fulfill.”

“You really think this is what we were born to do?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flit between you and the back of the seat.

“It’s what hyung and I were born to do.”

That’s a small punch to your gut. So just like everyone else, your brothers think you weren’t supposed to be here at all. Which is why your father never paid attention to you. Although that Lee Dongwook prick was right - your brothers were merely pawns in his empire and had no real connection to them otherwise - they were planned.

They weren’t a mistake. They were wanted, if only for business. It stings, that your brothers have been used by your father, even now from the grave. It should be a good thing that you were almost always invisible to him.

So why doesn’t it feel that way?

A faceless woman flashes in your mind. Your mother left before you developed a memory. Like she wanted to make sure you wouldn’t remember how she didn’t want you, either.

Would she want you now?

“Hey,” your brother says, breaking the silence and the dissonance in your head. “It’s good that you’re here.”

“Well, yeah.” You muster a smile, turning back to him. “Can’t let you mess everything up all by yourself.”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing and shoves your shoulder. You snicker and lean back over, holding up your fist.

“Ride or die, remember?”

He tries to maintain his scorn but ultimately sighs and knocks his fist against yours, and you do the handshake you made up when you were kids. It ends with a mutual slap on the side of the neck and finger guns, and you wear matching smiles as you sit back against the leather seats, the air becoming a little lighter between you.

“Y’know, that shit you pulled with Dongwook last night, hyung’s been bragging about it.”

“Really? He’s not… mad?”

“Are you kidding? He’s proud of how you handled that.”

“Oh. I thought you both would be upset that I stirred up trouble.”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Nah. You just proved to them that you’re one of us.”

You tense. There it is again.

One of us. Cut from the same cloth, capable of spilling blood without consequences. And without getting your hands dirty.

You glance to the front where D’s sitting in the passenger’s seat, back straight as he focuses on the dark road ahead.

He’ll probably be the one to keep your hands clean.

I don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it.

Well. What did you do to deserve it?”

You pick at your nails as you speak with false nonchalance.

“Y’know, I almost came back home a few years ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I missed you guys, and I thought Jin would let me come see you, but you weren’t doing well and-“ you stop yourself.

“Anyway, I was at this bar, and I may or may not have played some poker and won a whole bunch of money to get a flight home. It really pissed off a bunch of the men, and this one dude actually ended up following me to my hotel to steal back 500,000 won. Isn’t that pathetic?”

Jeongguk’s head snaps to you, a perturbed expression taking over.

“What? Why didn’t you say something?”

You shrug. “He was just a desperate, low-life, sore loser. He wasn’t worth it.”

Still isn’t, you wish you could say.

“Did you get his name?” He asks ominously enough to make you feel a tad nervous.

So who knows how the man you secretly speak of is feeling.

“Um,” you pretend to think. “It was something insignificant, so I don’t remember.”

“That was dangerous, Angel. If something happened to you…”

“I know. It was a reckless mistake and it won’t ever happen again.”

“Good.”

D has not moved or shifted once and you wonder if he even heard you.

The car finally turns down a road lined with a chain-link fence, enclosing the expansive marina filled with fishing boats. After weaving through a narrow maze of warehouses, Jin suddenly comes into view, standing in front of an empty dock with his arms crossed and upon seeing the SUV, he quickly strides over.

Before the driver has had a chance to brake, Jin grabs the handle, swinging it open with a huge smile on his face. You slide out and into his arms that wrap you up in a tight hug.

You breathe in the smell of him; of homemade makgugksu and bungeoppang after a long day at school; of leaves falling on your evening strolls along the river banks as the autumn sun set on the horizon; of food cooking over a crackling fire while frogs and crickets chirped among the pine trees.

The smell of home.

“Can I get out?” Jeongguk demands behind you, boot nudging the backs of your thighs and you stagger forward still in Jin’s arms, turning around to ram yourself against the door.

Jeongguk is strong, but your will is stronger as he pushes against it, and you snicker at his muffled, “you annoying piece of shit!”

“Yah, language!” Jin exclaims, tugging you away from the door.

“She’s the one trying to trap me in here!”

Your oldest brother rolls his eyes as he pulls you to the side so Jeongguk can step out.

“You two can’t go 5 seconds without fighting?”

“We’ve gotta make up for all these years!” You defend.

Jeongguk glares at you as he straightens and slams the door behind him and you just hide yourself in Jin’s embrace.

Seconds later, another door opens and shuts, and Jin’s muffled voice rumbles above your head.

“Hey, D. Thanks for bringing them to me safe.”

You don’t hear a response and assume he just silently acknowledged your brother, his swift footsteps against the gravel growing farther away. You peek away from Jin’s chest to watch him join the other guards across the yard.

Upon observing all of them surrounding the perimeter, you’re a little heart-stricken that you can’t spend these final moments with your brother alone.

“We’re good out here,” Jin assures you, taking your scanning of the docks as paranoia. “Cops are on the other side of town. Hope made sure of it.”

You can’t stop the teasing quirk of your lips as you tilt your head up at him. “Hope, huh?”

“What?” he asks, looking between you and Jeongguk as you sneak a glance at each other.

“Nothing.”

By the slight uptick in his brow, it’s obvious that he’s curious about what you know, but time is limited, and you figure he doesn’t want to waste time finding out when this is about just the three of you.

“Oh my god, is that a hoodie?” you ask in a teasing manner, changing the subject as you fully look at your brother’s casual, comfy outfit under his big coat. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in one since I was nine. And that was because bro threw up on you after going on that roller coaster twelve times in a row.”

Jeongguk shoves you roughly to the side and you laugh, the sound echoing in the old harbor. “At least I was tall enough to even get on the roller coaster. Or any of the rides for that matter that weren’t for little kids.”

“You surpassed the height requirement by the time you were 5, you extra large kangaroo!”

His eyes narrow and he holds up his fists, bending his knees in a typical fight stance. “Come at me, bro.”

You mirror him and circle each other while pretending to spar, neither of you flinching when your fake punches get close to being real.

“Oh, lord,” Jin laughs, running a hand down his face as he stares between you again with a soft gaze when usually he would be telling you off for bickering and play-fighting. “You made it past a minute this time.”

You jut a thumb back at your brother, ignoring his air punch to your shoulder. “He’s gonna bully me way worse now that you’re leaving.”

“No, he won’t,” Jin says, fixing Jeongguk with a semi-stern stare until he holds his hands up in mock defense.

“Sure. As long as she’s not a pain in my ass,” he harmlessly spits, mocking the way you stick your tongue out at him.

“You two are the most dangerous people in the city now, you know that, right?” Jin muses.

A lull breezes past as that reality winds around this small bubble cradling you and your brothers, tightening until it pops with the truth that there is no time for fun and games anymore. Not outside, not where people can see.

Now you notice the bags that sit in a small pile just paces away from where you stand with your brothers. A couple of medium-sized suitcases, three duffels, and two totes. All of Jin’s worldly belongings, all that he can bring, are packed up in those bags.

Fuck. This is torture. To have to watch him carry his life on board but leave you behind.

Noticing that you’ve been staring, Jin turns back to grab the totes, and you and Jeongguk walk up to accept them.

“Here’s some food, it should last a few weeks,” he says, the heavy insulated bags containing various packed containers. “And I left all the recipes in there for whenever you get around to missing my cooking.”

“It won’t be the same,” Jeongguk pouts.

“It’s better than nothing,” you point out.

Jin smiles at you appreciatively, then reaches into the pockets of his big coat and pulls out two square white velvet boxes, passing one to each of you.

“And this is something a little extra special.”

You both open them at the same time, eyes widening when stunning Hermès rose-gold and steel watches that match the one on Jin’s wrist twinkle under the yellow light from the scattered lampposts.

“I’ll keep mine set to your time, so no matter where I am, I’ll know when to call.”

You gawk at it as tears cloud your vision, so much so that you can’t blink or move lest the dam breaks. Jin’s feet step into view and you don’t look up as he takes out the watch, gently lifts your arm, and clasps it comfortably on your wrist.

“There,” he murmurs. “Pretty.”

He moves on to do the same with Jeongguk, and you can only watch the second hand tick around the expensive silver face and white-gold numbers.

Jin grasps your arm again, holding it next to Jeongguk’s, simply staring down at all of your matching watches. The bands are not too big for your wrist, but not too small for your brothers’. Just right. And it doesn’t hide the tattoo of Jeongguk’s initials sitting next to yours on the inside of Jin’s forearm.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t do better, that I couldn’t prevent this,” Jin whispers, broken crack in his voice. He squeezes your wrist and your heart crumples. “You know that if it was up to me, both of you would be out there doing whatever you want, without worrying about anything. I promise that when all of this blows over, I’ll come back so that you can go out and live your best lives.”

“It’s not your fault,” you croak.“I don’t blame you, I’m sorry if I made you think I do. The only person I’ve ever blamed for any of this is him. He’s a bitch for forcing this onto us.”

You pray Jeongguk knows you’re not talking about him.

As you gaze up at Jin, you see the features he shares with the man partially responsible for your existence. The similar face shape, nose, strong chin, height and broad shoulders.

But his eyes are what set him apart. Jin has so much warmth and kindness and love in his beautiful brown eyes, things he holds for you and Jeongguk, things you’ve never seen from your father.

The dam breaks and you cry for Jin. For the burdens he carries, not just for your father’s syndicate but for you and Jeongguk. For the responsibility he assumed to be your protector, your caretaker, when he should’ve just been your big brother, your best friend.

You’re soon engulfed by his tender hugs so you can bury puddles of tears into his sweater.

“Birdie, don’t cry. You’re gonna make it harder to leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I just got back.”

“I know,” he whispers, rubbing between your shoulders. “But it’s not forever. We’ll be a family again someday.”

“We didn’t even get to have a girls’ night,” you pout sadly.

When Jeongguk entered his teen years and suddenly became “too cool” to hang out with his little sister all the time, Jin started setting aside days on the weekend for just you, sending cool guy off with his friends.

He took you shopping, treated you to boba and takeout, and then back home, brought out his own expensive face masks and did your hair while you watched your favorite movies. As you got a little older, he sometimes let you have a sip of his wine, and coached you on different poker strategies after you told him it was your goal to win against Jeongguk. And thanks to Jin, you did.

“Maybe you two can start having girls’ nights.”

“Ew,” you and Jeongguk say at the same time, in the same inflection. Jin just rolls his eyes.

“C’mon, you can’t just pretend you like each other in front of me?”

“Why would we do that?” Jeongguk quips, earning him a death glare from you.

“Yah, you little-” Jin scolds and lunges to give him a harmless swat but Jeongguk just jumps out of reach, already expecting it.

“Come here!” Tears drying, you laugh as Jin breaks away to chase him around, and it becomes their turn to wrestle, much to your delight seeing Jeongguk get put in a headlock for a change.

Eventually, Jeongguk taps Jin’s elbow, calling for a truce, and they’re both slightly out of breath. You stare as they straighten and face each other, and something gentle floats down on them that has Jeongguk hugging him tightly. Jin starts rubbing his back and you duck your head when you hear him warble,

“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, hyung.”

“Hey, look at me,” Jin demands, pulling back to dip fingers under Jeongguk’s chin and lift his head up.

“The only way you could disappoint me is if you run away or don’t let yourself get better. You’re here now, three months sober, and that’s all that matters.”

“But I-” Jin waves his free hand frantically in the air.

“I don’t want to hear it! You just need to focus on tomorrow and every day ahead of that. The past is the past and you’ll learn to let it go.”

Jeongguk hangs his head again but Jin brings it right back up.

“I have the utmost confidence in you,” your oldest brother declares, setting firm yet comforting hands on Jeongguk’s cheeks. “I know it’s been hard, but you’ve come so far. You are nothing like him, okay? Just stay off the stuff and everything will be fine.”

Jeongguk nods solemnly and Jin engulfs him, whispering more affirmations that he needs to hear as he holds him.

“I believe in you, bun. Don’t forget that.”

After a few minutes of watching your brothers’ moment in the dark freezing cold, Jin pulls back again, smoothing down Jeongguk’s mussed bangs.

“Look out for her, will you?” Jin asks him, nodding back to you.

“Do I have to?” he jokingly complains, finally accepting the noogie to the top of his head. Jin laughs when Jeongguk pushes him away to fix his mussed hair and then looks past him at you.

“And you,” he calls. As you step forward, Jeongguk steps back, giving you and your oldest, dearest brother space.

“My beautiful little sister,” Jin coos, brushing your cheek. “I am so incredibly proud of the woman you’ve become. I’ve always admired how you stuck it out all these years, and even though you were building a life for yourself, you came back for us.” He smiles through a shaky breath.

“You don’t know how much that means to me. This business won’t be easy, but I know how strong and capable and resilient you are that you’ll be able to handle it.”

“I got it from you.” A diamond drop plummets down his cheek.

“Oh, birdie,” he murmurs, wrapping you up in the warmest bear hug. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“No one could’ve raised us better than you, Jinnie,” you whisper into his neck, and he hugs you tighter.

“But I’m sorry I snapped at you the other night.”

“It’s okay,” he says, smiling down at you softly as he adjusts your scarf to fit more snugly around the collar of your coat. “It just showed me you’re not gonna take anyone’s shit without a fight.”

“Duh, I grew up with Megatron over there.”

He chuckles, shoots a brief glance over your head and then pulls you a little closer, speaking a lot quieter.

“He won’t be able to help you at the casino, so no one will be nice,” he reminds you seriously. “But don’t let any of them scare you. Give them hell, you hear me?”

You nod your promise which eases his tense expression.

“Like I did with Dongwook? I heard you’ve been bragging about me.” His frown flips into a grin, and he reaches up to adjust your beanie further down your forehead.

“Of course! I’ve always bragged about you. Not just when you stand up for yourself and your brother by stabbing a crazy drunk dude with a lit cigar. Cute little badass,” he coos, pinching your cheek and you scowl, whacking him away.

“No, but really,” he continues, raising his voice a bit. “You’ve always been a tough cookie, and not just because of that domesticated T-rex I raised.”

“I’m standing right here, y’know!” Jeongguk hollers and you giggle when Jin acts like he didn’t hear.

“And I know the situation with D isn’t practical, little miss independent.” He boops your nose. Smile faltering, you do your best to keep disdain off of your face.

“But I don’t want anything to happen to you and I trust him the most to keep you safe. So if you have a problem with anyone, go to him and he’ll deal with it, okay?”

You can’t doubt or question your brother. And that means you have to trust D.

(But the last time you did that, you woke up alone with some of your money gone. You remind yourself that this is D. Not Yoongi.

Min Yoongi is dead to you.)

“I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like I did, though, and I’m sorry.”

You hum. “We’re all throwing a lot of apologies around tonight. I think that’s a record.”

“That won’t be beaten again.” Your laughs harmonize in the frigid breeze.

“What are you guys laughing about?” Jeongguk asks as he walks up to join you.

“How funny your face looks,” you crack, causing Jeongguk to plop his hand on the center of your face, tipping your head back in a muffled cackle.

Before you can start another squabble, Jin tugs you both into him in a family hug, one that you and Jeongguk have always pretended to complain about but give up your childish tendencies for the sake of the moment. Who knows when you’ll get to hug Jin like this again.

“You two are my entire world. Take care of each other for me, okay? I love you so much.”

A horn blows loudly over the water - a signal that time is up.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Jin isn’t one to curse. “I have to go.” Many tears slip between the three of you and he squeezes you before letting go.

“Help me with my bags?”

You and Jeongguk each pick up two and carry them to the dock where a man wordlessly takes them on deck of the large, old fishing boat.

Jin turns to you once again, lingers kisses on your foreheads, envelopes you in one last firm hug, and you cling onto each other like that’ll keep Jin rooted in place so he can never leave.

“If either of you get hurt, I’ll burn this entire fucking city down.”

And then he lets go.

Jeongguk throws an arm around your neck as you watch your brother board the boat that will take him too far away, both of you laughing when he turns around once he reaches the deck and dramatically blows a kiss in your direction.

Head plopped on Jeongguk’s shoulder, you stare and stare as Jin bustles around, helping the crew launch off the dock. Once the boat starts drifting away, Jim rushes to the stern, standing there with his arm held up in an endless wave that you and Jeongguk return with a variation of hearts.

Neither of you moves from the edge until the boat becomes nothing but a dot of light on the dark sea.

The ride home is quiet, except for sniffles and swiping of tears from cheeks. When the SUV pulls back up to your house and D gets out to open your door, Jeongguk hugs you, holding on for longer than you expect.

“I couldn’t do this without you,” he whispers with an undertone of sincerity. But you catch fear in there too.

“I know,” you whisper back, smiling at his small huff as he pulls back. “But you got this, bro. Like Jin said.”

A smile lifts the corner of his lips when you hold out your fist and you do the brief version of your handshake. Just a gentler tap on the side of the neck and finger guns.

“Night.”

“Night,” he murmurs as you grab the handle but the door opens for you.

You don’t give D the same farewell as you get out of the car. Neither does he as he shuts the door behind you.

The sky is grey with heavy flakes of snow as you step out onto the porch. D is standing by the car like he did the first night he picked you up. Hands clasped, glasses and long coat on. Except this time, he’s waiting by the back door.

“Good afternoon, Miss Jeon,” he greets as he opens the door before tipping forward in a subtle bow. Your only reply is a cursory glance his way.

D drives you into the city, and you’re relieved when Jeongguk texts you because it distills some of the anxiety unfurling in your pores.

Kick ass today received from ‘megatron🤖’ 13:39

Gotta practice so i can kick yours on friday! sent to ‘megatron🤖’ 13:39

🙄 yeah good luck with that received from ‘megatron🤖’ 13:43

You grin at your brother’s sarcasm and find a gif of Rocky boxing, pleased with the fact that the theme song will be stuck in his head all day because of it. The middle finger emoji he shoots back confirms your theory.

Stay Gold casino isn’t massive like your brother said. It’s colossal. Foreboding. As you stare up at it in all its glory and lights and noise and glamorous patrons, you feel as if at any moment it could collapse and crush you to pieces.

“Ah, my future daughter-in-law, welcome!” A booming voice startles you out of your slow descent into unmanageable stress. “I was expecting you a bit sooner.”

You pause in the midst of taking a step into his handshake.

“Am I not on time?”

“You are, but since it’s your first day, I thought you might show some initiative and arrive earlier. You know, make a good impression.” He says this in a sincere tone, but his smile is anything but.

Fuck, you haven’t even set one foot inside the building, but already you’ve messed up? You just fucking got here, why is being so hard on you? You glance over at Namjoon who’s staring at Jay’s father with a small frown and slightly quirked brow.

“She had another appointment prior to this, so she wouldn’t have been able to come any earlier,” Namjoon announces evenly. You say nothing as he lies since you’d only been at home staring at the wall for a few hours.

The older man turns to Namjoon. “Oh, have you been brought on as the assistant?”

“No, sir,” your savior politely shakes his head. “I’m here to help until she finds one, so you can come to me about any issues with her schedule.”

“Ah,” is all Namjoon gets in response before you’re gestured to enter the place that will one day be under your name. Well, the name you’ll be claimed by.

Jay’s father takes you to your office first, all of you squeezing into the employee elevator with D situated himself in the corner behind you. The doors rumble open on the fourth floor, and it’s only one turn around a short corner b

“The main office is up a few floors, but that’s mine. You’ll use this one for now.”

It’s small, to say the least. And the wood panelling looks as if you time traveled back into the ‘80s. The entire room even smells as if the carpet hasn’t been cleaned since then, embedded with the stench of stale cigars.

The one redeeming quality is that behind the desk is a glass opening in the floor that allows you to peer over the blackjack and roulette tables, all the money that passes from the hands of tourists and locals with nothing to lose, that will end up in the casino’s safes and your brother’s pockets.

The tour continues all around the casino, Jay’s father showing you every room on every floor like this is your one and only chance to get familiar with the environment.

From here on out, you’ll be here pretty much every day of the week, so you don’t know why he’s rushing through this tour on your first night. It’s almost hard to keep up. And you feel bad for Namjoon who’s matching the pace alongside you, diligently taking notes as your FFIL rattles off all of your potential duties. All of which Namjoon has briefed you on already.

It’s a lot to absorb.

Monitoring games and slots and the revenue that follows. Overseeing the floor at the beginning of the night. Engaging with important guests and board members.

You’re introduced to managers, dealers, and various members of the staff, and despite the polite greetings you give them, followed by promises that you’ll work hard alongside them, they eye you with uncertainty.

Doubt creeps in.

As he guides you through more slot games on the other side of the casino, a presence suddenly steps up between you and Namjoon, forcing the latter to move aside, and your heart sinks when you turn to Jay beaming at you, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back.

“Oh, what are you doing here?” you ask, recovering a stutter. He leans in to kiss you on the cheek, and tamping down nausea, you feign a smile and remind yourself that this is just for show.

“Came to support you on your first day. How’s it going so far?”

“She still has a lot to learn,” his father answers for you. Jay just nods and smiles at you, clearly not detecting the condescension.

“She’ll get the hang of it.”

Jay never leaves your side as his father goes on with the tour, fingers lightly but noticeably touching over the small of your back, the center of your shoulders, your elbow, and it’s the most he’s touched you thus far. It’s just like the kiss. He’s showing people (and you) that he’s the reason for the heavy rock on your ring finger. He’s claiming you. And it makes your nerves bristle.

His father goes on to tell you about the private gambling rooms, but doesn't take you in.

“I’m not expecting you to know how to gamble or play poker, but it might be a good idea to at least get familiar with the games.”

Namjoon leans forward, opening his mouth to no doubt inform him of your acute abilities, but you shake your head, quietly stopping him.

“That’s a good idea, I’ll get right on that.” It’s hard to keep the sarcasm out of your voice, but Jay’s father doesn’t seem to notice as he’s too busy smugly leering at you.

“I can teach you,” Jay says close to your ear. Next to him, Namjoon is side-eyeing the interaction like he just ate something sour and it helps to put a smile on your face as you give your fiancé a confirming nod.

“Okay.”

As you continue on, you glance back to Namjoon cracking his neck and subtly shaking his head, and you have to press your lips together to contain a laugh.

“Ask about the counters,” Namjoon then reminds you in a whisper.

Crossing your arms, you face your patronizing supervisor. “I want to meet the counters.”

“Ah, that’s not something you have to worry about.”

“That’s exactly what I have to worry about,” you state firmly. “I want to know who’s counting my money.”

“Your money?” He scoffs. “I know my son put that pretty ring on your finger, but I’m afraid that until you tie the knot, nothing in here is yours.”

“I think my brothers would disagree.”

“The alliance isn’t secure yet, young lady. This is a trial run, remember?”

You take a deep breath, calming your building rage, and speak as evenly as you can.

“I’m here to take care of my brother’s side of the business, and the counters are part of that. Take me to them now.”

He shares a silent exchange with his son but you sense that they will have some words about you later and they won’t be upholding. In a reluctant spin, he takes you back the way you came and you ask Namjoon a random question about his notes so Jay can’t comment on how you just spoke to his father.

He leads you to a stairwell on the west side and you skid to a stop, stomach dropping.

The stairwell. You don’t know if it was this one, so you want to avoid any of them at all cost.

You jut a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m gonna take the elevator.”

Jay and his father look at you questioningly. Namjoon bows his head, hiding his minute frown.

“But it’s just one flight down.”

You shake your head, wearing a discomfited smile. “I’ll meet you there.”

Not giving either of them a chance to argue further, you turn for the elevator. And for one brief second, you’re relieved that the only person following you is D. Because he won’t say a word or ask a question, which is the last thing you need in this moment.

The three men are waiting in the hall once you exit the elevator, Jay and his father whipping themselves out of a whispered conversation once your heels click on the floor.

The room they bring you to is small and brightly lit, with 5 or so men in white button-downs sorting through lockboxes of money, counting it, exchanging it with bills from silver briefcases, and placing them in drawers that slide into a large safe on wheels for transport.

This is where the cash from the businesses protected by your brother will be laundered, that you’re in charge of collecting. The cash that will make you complicit in the Crow family crime syndicate.

Nausea lays down with the doubt.

Still, you press forward.

On your way to where the vaults are that Jay’s father seems reluctant to show you, you pass by a room where staff donning red blazer, black ties, and wires behind their ears are filtering in and out. Your fiance’s father doesn’t apologize to a staff member he bumps into as he pauses and turns around, looking past you, Jay, and Namjoon.

“D, is it?” Stilling, you glance back to D who’s focused on Jay’s father through those dark glasses as he nods. “You’ll be in charge of the security team?”

“I already am, sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“They all know that they will report to me.”

The older man looks appalled and, frankly, so are you. D’s apparently twelve steps ahead of you, having already established himself and his role here as the chief of security.

“Alright,” Jay says, sitting his hand on your waist and you force your muscles not to tense too much. “I’m gonna get going, so I’ll see you at home.” He places another kiss on your cheek and Namjoon looks away, but behind you, there’s a pair of hidden eyes on your back that won’t leave.

After Jay’s father gives you room to breathe by escorting his son to the garage, Namjoon joins you and D in returning to your office, phone out texting who you assume to be his girlfriend as he walks.

“Did they talk shit about me?” you disrupt the somewhat comfortable silence.

“No,” he shakes his head without breaking attention from his phone. Man can multitask. “I’m sure they would’ve if I wasn’t there. The silence was loud.”

You hum, a bitter taste in your mouth, and Namjoon shuts his phone off and pockets it.

“But don’t pay him any mind, you’re doing fine. I would call him a name, but he’s about to be your father-in-law.”

“I want to call him a few names,” you mumble, and Namjoon lets out a comforting laugh. This is a reason why you think you could get through everything with Namjoon by your side. He’s so easygoing and real with the ability to make you feel better through his playful nature. But this is only temporary because his actual role is to take care of your brother’s affairs. You’ll just be stuck with D and whatever assistant he finds.

“Why didn’t you tell them you can play poker?” he asks after you step into the elevator and D presses the button for the 3rd floor.

You shrug. “They want to keep underestimating me, who am I to stop them?”

“So you’re gonna act like you don’t know how to play and then completely wipe the floor with their asses?”

Grinning, you flicker an impulsive glance at your bodyguard, who’s standing so still he could be a wax figurine.

“I’ve done it before, it’s really fun.”

“Can I please be there? I’d love to see that.”

“Yeah, I’ll pencil it in on your schedule.”

“Sweet!”

Back in your office, Namjoon follows you inside while D stays in the hall, next to the door as you shut it. His phone is back out as you sit down at the desk, inspecting the worn corners and stained surface with repulsion.

“So, Meg’s on her way to pick me up, are you good?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you nod, lugging your bag onto the desk so you can start organizing your books and papers. “Hot date tonight?”

“Always.” He winks, and you laugh at his cheesy grin.

“Alright, well, seriously, you’re doing great so far and I think you’re going to continue to do great.”

“Moon, all I��ve done is walk around and shake hands.”

“And put up with his condescending attitude!” Namjoon exclaims, dramatically throwing up an arm. “You showed him you’re not here to play games and that you’re capable of everything he’s going to expect out of you. That’s a damn great start.”

“Thank you, Moon.” “You’re welcome,” he says in a huff, like he thinks you should’ve already known that. You chuckle at his expression as you get out your laptop.

“And just by the way, D was watching that dude Jay like a hawk because he kept touching up on you.”

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard, and Namjoon misses the way you thickly swallow as he checks a message on his phone.

“So if he ever tries anything fresh, D will, y’know, deal with him.”

You clasp your cold hands. “I know. That’s his job.”

“Yeah, no one will get in your way with him around. Your brothers made a good choice in him.”

So you’ve gathered.

If only they knew.

“You know what, speaking of D, I was looking through the files again and I didn’t see one for him.”

Namjoon glances up to the ceiling in thought.

“I don’t think there is one since he was vetted by your brothers.”

“Well, I’m his boss now and I’d like to see his background.”

He nods. “I think I can come up with something.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem, I’ll have it ready later this week. By the way, any word on your assistant?”

“Not yet,” you sigh. “I guess D’s having a little trouble finding one who’s not a guy.”

Namjoon nods. “Well, in the meantime, I’m happy to help out.”

“I appreciate it. Actually, there was something else…”

You dig through the mess in your bag until you find your black journal that has names of businesses and their owners within the city, monetary numbers and dates lined next to them. You flip to the page you marked because some of the information is unclear.

“I noticed this clinic up north is on the books, but there’s no payment expected?”

Namjoon looks it over and nods. “I think your family owes them a favor, so they don’t have to pay for protection.”

Huh. Interesting.

He pulls out his phone as you search through the rest of the book for any other notes you made to mention to Namjoon. But he announces that his girlfriend just pulled up.

“Thanks for your help tonight. Tell Meg I said hi!” He beams at you and waves as he heads for the door.

“Will do, boss. See you tomorrow!”

The rest of the week consists of your future father-in-law micromanaging you, hotly breathing down your neck as you get yourself familiar with the inner-workings of the casino.

When you finally get some of your own furniture moved into your “office” (you couldn’t stand that tired ass couch and scratched up, cigarette burned desk!) Jay's father laughed off your request to get a drawing desk in there so you can work on some renovation ideas.

“I think you should hold off on doing your little designs until I feel that you’re ready to oversee things without my supervision.”

Despite that, you make tons of mental notes of all the places you find need improvement.

The casino carpets will be the first to go. They’re purposely designed to be ugly - a psychological trick to keep eyes on the tables - but the one you’re walking over now is far too outdated and gaudy for your tastes.

The tacky red uniforms that staff and security wear will be next, and because the majority of clientele that the casino attracts are men, you think you’ll make the outfits the waitresses and female bartenders wear a little less revealing.

You’re not looking forward to finding out how much of a fight Jay’s father will put up against that. You have a feeling that he’s going to be very resistant to your ideas, stubborn brute that he is. Oh well. You can be just as stubborn, if not more, and you promised Jin you would give them hell.

You will make your mark around here, whether they like it or not.

Starting with those ugly ass carpets.

Towards the final stretch of your hours on Thursday night, Namjoon meets you in your office where you’re on your laptop reviewing the company’s budget and making calculations for the upcoming monthly report (per the request of Jay’s father), he places a manila folder on the edge of your desk.

“D’s record,” he tells you quietly, even though the man in question is on the other side of the door. You flip open the folder, bracing yourself.

There’s no picture, just one sheet of paper outlining his skills and qualifications for the job, and at the very bottom is a line that reads:

Spent 3 years in Seoul Detention Center.

Crime: Miscellaneous charges

“‘Miscellaneous’ is kind of vague.”

“I know. He’s pretty secretive-“ Namjoon continues. Yeah, no shit. “And Atlas is the one in charge of background checks, so that’s all there is. If you want more details, I think you’d have to ask D.”

Like hell.

All you know is his full name, birthday, and blood type. And that was only because you had the fleeting chance to look at his dog tags. Are your brothers privy to that? Namjoon clearly isn’t, and he knows Jin and Jeongguk almost better than they know themselves.

“Thanks for putting this together,” you say, hiding the folder in a drawer.

“No problem. If you want, I can talk to D for you.”

You wave at him dismissively. If anyone’s going to have that conversation, it’s going to be you.

Friday is when you wake up to a text from Namjoon saying Hope wants to meet up for a quick chat and it’s honestly a breath of relief, but you’re not really sure why. You’re not too hyped in meeting with another one of your brother’s men so he can check up on you, making you feel like he believes you can’t handle yourself. But maybe Hope will be like Namjoon. You could use more of that.

You relay the information to D, and he drives you to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant uptown. Since you’re working out with your brother, Namjoon scheduled you for a later shift, so you meet Hope just after lunch, the customers scarce and scattered. He's already there sitting in a booth, a half-eaten plate in front of him, and as you pass D holding open the door, the bell ringing overhead, he says lowly,

“Sit in the booth next to him so you’re back-to-back.”

“And you’ll be at the counter?” Because he’d better not sit across from you.

Hope lifts his phone to his ear once you casually slip into the booth, and as you pretend to look over the menu while D sits on a barstool across from you at the counter, he begins talking to you as if answering a call.

“How’s your first week been?”

Kind. His voice is kind and it eases you. You sit back against your chair, exhaling a bit of stress.

“It went as well as it could’ve, I guess,” you reply neutrally. You’re not about to turn this into a therapy session.

“But I don’t have anything to report. This feels like a waste of your time.”

“Not at all, Miss Jeon. I’m happy to hear any updates; good or bad. Well, hopefully less of the bad.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

A lapse in conversation occurs as the server comes over to take your order of a drip coffee to go, giving you time to mull over how you want to word the question you’ve been debating these past few days.

“I know you work for my brothers, but I was wondering-” He gently interrupts you. “I work for you too, Miss Jeon.”

You need to get used to that.

“This might be a long shot but…” you nervously pick at your cuticles. “I wanted to look for my mother. Do you think you can help me?”

“I’ll do what I can.”

His soft tone indicates that he means it. He really lives up to his name.

“I appreciate it.”

As the server sets down your coffee and you exchange it for cash from your clutch, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Hope dig out a notepad and pen from his briefcase. “Is there anything you can tell me about her?”

“Um, all I know is her name and that she used to own a coffee shop downtown. I don’t know which one though.”

He nods as he scribbles some notes.

“And she left when I was two,” you say quietly. Pained. “That’s it.”

“I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll do my best.”

“Okay. I really appreciate that but, um, could you please not tell my brother about this?”

“Of course, Miss Jeon.”

You smile. “Angel is fine.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No, but I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done to help us. Especially my brother, I know he cares a lot for you. I hope you two got to say goodbye.”

He stays silent as you slip out of the booth, grabbing your coffee along the way. But when you pass him, the tips of his ears are extremely red, and you have to suppress a smile as you exit, D not too far behind.

Omw to beat ur ass!! sent to ‘megatron🤖’ 14:09

Don't bet on it Ur toast received from ‘megatron🤖’ 14:11

By the time you stride into the gym, D in tow, your brother is already there, warming up with a trainer in the ring. You call his name and he takes a few seconds to pull himself out of the zone, doe eyes lighting up upon seeing you.

He dismisses the trainer and walks over to the side where you’re standing, leaning on the ropes with a smile, panting heavily, bangs stringy with sweat.

“Bout time you showed up,” he says, catching the water bottle a gym attendant throws from below. “Why aren’t you changed?” Rolling your eyes, you lift up your small duffle that carries your workout clothes.

“I just came from a meeting. Y’know, work?”

He raises his eyebrows in acknowledgment, taking a long swig of water before dropping the bottle with a satisfied gasp, and turns his attention to the man you wish wasn’t standing behind you.

“Sup, D. You gonna box me in your suit?” “I could, and look cool as fuck knocking your ass out.” Jeongguk laughs and your eyes twitch as you try not to join him.

“Alright, I’m gonna hit the treadmill. Am I allowed to work out by myself? Or does D have to supervise that too?” you ask your brother in a slightly sarcastic tone, ignoring D’s side eye.

“You’re fine. Just stay in the room next door.” It takes a lot not to childishly mock him as you hoist your bag on your shoulder.

You turn around to where D’s removing his coat, revealing a glimpse of his holster. Something puts an uneasy whirlpool in your gut, forcing you to look away. You know it’s a necessity for the guards to have guns on their person at all times, yet you can’t help feeling uncomfortable.

“Oh, it needs to be cleared before you go in there,” Jeongguk says before you can start to walk away.

You lock eyes with D for a second as you realize that D is, yet again, going to follow you.

The workout equipment room is occupied by 7 or so men who immediately drop what they’re doing and scurry to exit into another part of the building when D bellows in that dark, gruff voice, “Everyone out!”

The AC is what sends a shiver down your spine.

Once they’re all out and D locks the door behind them, he turns to tell you in a much quieter tone, “I’ll be right here.” “Don’t care,” you mutter, promptly turning away to head for the empty women’s shower room, positive that you’re the first one to use it.

His eyes stay on your back until you disappear.

Every movement of yours echoes in the empty bathroom, including the plunk of your bag on a wooden bench that stands in front of a wall of lockers.

The tote with his sweater and chain sits stuffed in the bottom of your duffle. Staring at it for a moment, pensively, you consider how you should return it to him. You refuse to hand it over directly because you can’t predict what his reaction will be and that scares you.

You have to be sneaky. But how can you do that with a man who can show up and disappear and not make a sound?

When you come back to the ring, you falter in your tracks upon catching the sight of your brother sparring with D who’s dressed down to a white tee, black joggers, and a grey baseball cap on backwards.

But the casual outfit isn’t what makes you stiffen.

It’s the light dancing over his face. The light that comes from a hint of a smile as he throws punches with Jeongguk, ducking and dodging and returning every one of his swings.

They haven’t stopped moving since you re-entered, so you take the opportunity to set your duffle next to D’s, and as long as Jeongguk’s back is to you, coolly transfer the tote from your bag into his, zipping it up as if nothing happened. You perch on the end of the bench and check your phone. Other than an email from Namjoon about tonight’s itinerary, your messages are dry as hell. You scroll on social media to distract you from the fact that you miss your friends but you can’t do anything about it. “Hey, you want a turn?” Jeongguk pants after 10 minutes or so. You smile, leaving your phone on top of your bag, and stand.

“Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to beating you up all week.”

“Well, then you should’ve come earlier. I’m past my limit.”

He does look exhausted; meanwhile, D looks as if he’s barely broken a sweat.

“You just don’t want your boys to see you take hits from your little sister.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it.

“Just work with D, I need to sit down for a sec.”

A heavy feeling in your stomach sinks all the way down to your feet, rooting you to the floor as you fight not to show how very much not okay you are with that.

The universe must really be out to get you.

You glance involuntarily over to D standing in the middle of the ring, staring down at the floor with gloved hands on his hips.

“Go on,” Jeongguk goads, holding up the ropes for you to step under and into the ring.

“Sounds like you’re getting old, bro,” you casually comment as you pass him. He lands a punch on your shoulder and you grin devilishly.

“Don’t go easy on her just ‘cuz she’s a girl, D,” Jeongguk calls over his shoulder as he steps down on the floor, cackling when you flinch at him with your glove.

Your heart is running a damn marathon as you turn and face the man whose eyes are now locked on you, all that light he had in them with your brother completely fizzled out. Just blank. Soulless.

What will it take to bring anything palpable in his eyes when he looks at you? You’ll be damned if you don’t try and find out.

“Yeah, don’t go easy on me, D,” you say mockingly as you turn back to him, gloves held up shielding your mouth from everyone but the sinister man in front of you.

“I can take it.” Tilting your head, you bat your eyelashes, hoping to incite something out of his blank expression. “You should know that.”

But there’s nothing. Not even darkness appears. It doesn’t phase him.

So you lunge forward with a retaliating, vengeful punch but his gloves raise in a split second to block your hit.

Every strike, every punch translates into the anger, betrayal, fucking heartbreak this man left you with 3 years ago. And now he’s doing it all over again by acting like he has goddamn amnesia. You hope he can tell you want to do so much more than throw hits at him with some boxing gloves. But he doesn’t let you back him into a corner. He moves like he did with your brother, just without the smile. Without the light. And it makes your hatred for him fester and spread like a poison.

And then tears prick the corners of your eyes. As soon as they do, you drop your gloves and pull yourself out of your self-inflicted torment, twisting around with a raise of your arm to feign dabbing sweat from your forehead so they can’t see the tears clouding your vision.

Fuck, you have to stop!

Tears are weakness. You can’t be weak.

Don’t let him make you weak.

“Damn, sis,” your brother exclaims as he stands to approach the ring, grabbing your bottle of water from the bench. “Tough week, huh?”

Your labored breathing prevents you from answering, so you opt to lift your eyebrows and nod as you catch the bottle he tosses you. Tilting your head up to drink and will the tears away, Jeongguk leans against the ropes and starts rattling out pointers, mainly focusing on your footwork.

But you’re not in the mood to refine your technique. You just shake your head and move to climb out of the ring.

“Wait, didn’t you wanna-“

“Nah, I’m done,” you say as you grab your phone and bag again. “I should probably get going anyway.”

You can feel Jeongguk’s confused gaze follow as you head back out towards the bathroom. The shower camouflages the tears you can’t fight off, and if your brother asks, the steam is what made your eyes red.

The heat on your skin and under it turn your tears into anger.

Your throat is tight as you pass by D in the doorway to return to the ring, now dressed for work, and you try to relax because your brother is watching and you don’t want him to be concerned about your abrupt departure.

When you glance back, D is nowhere in sight.

“I thought you wanted to beat my ass,” Jeongguk says in a playful tone as he walks up to you.

“I do, but I didn’t realize how old you’re getting and it wouldn’t be fair to beat up on the elderly- Jeongguk, stop! I just showered!” You shriek and hold up your hands as he lunges for you with sweaty biceps and a soaked tee.

Instead of ignoring your plea and head-locking you anyway, he angles you with narrowed eyes and you realize your mistake. “I mean Sol. Sorry.”

He waves you off just like Jin did the other night, and sits down on the bench, elbows on his knees as he unwraps the white protective fabric around his knuckles.

“Before you go, I want to tell you about this diamond trader you’re gonna have to meet with in the next couple of weeks.”

“Why me?”

“Because he’s in your vicinity, and he and I don’t exactly get along.”

“You don’t get along with anybody.”

“Shut up.” You shrug because did you lie?

“Anyway, he’s at that club ‘Halazia’ downtown and he goes by Captain. D will set everything up.”

You cross your arms as the prospect of this new responsibility puts another weight on your shoulders. Jeongguk seems to notice this because his manner towards you softens.

“Hey, this’ll be a good way to assert yourself, y’know? Show him who’s boss.”

“Isn’t that you?” Your eyebrow raises as he shakes his head.

“You’re in charge in this case, sis. And if he has trouble accepting it, D’s there to back you up.”

As if on cue, D strides back in wearing the suit he had on before, glasses shielding his eyes.

“You think I need him to be taken seriously?” D slows to a stop but you don’t look his way.

“You need him to make sure people respect you because they won’t at first. You know that.”

Then why hasn’t he said a damn thing to Jay’s father this entire week? Will he only act if you prompt him to? How far will he let things go before stepping in? A bull-headed part of you wants to put that to the test.

You sigh. “Fine. Can I go now?”

“It was nice seeing you, sis,” he says sarcastically since you’re annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave at him, swinging on your coat. “Bye. You stink by the way.”

Jeongguk’s laugh rings in the gym as you make a beeline for the exit.

“See ya, D,” is the last thing you hear from your brother before you hastily open the door, not bothering to hold it for your guard.

Snow is falling again when you make it outside. D handed the car off to a valet earlier and now you have to wait on the curb with him standing next to you.

“Still smoke?” you blurt because you could really use some fucking nicotine.

He nods shortly and, facing him, you hold out your hand.

“I know I owe you a cigarette, but I think my 500,000 won you took should’ve covered that, right?”

He briefly side-eyes you and hesitates before reaching into the inside of his breast pocket, pulling out a carton and lighter. He flicks open the top, revealing only one cigarette.

“Last one again, huh?” You observe, pulling out the final stick. "Oh, but you owe me for some plan b, so maybe that cancels it all out.”

Staring out at the white dusting on the sidewalk across the street, you prop your elbow on your wrist and let your fingers holding the cigarette tip in his direction. You’ve counted a total of 17 steadily falling snowflakes when a lighter clicks and a flame pricks your periphery to emblaze the end of your cigarette.

He drops the lighter and you take a drag, blowing smoke up into the dark, snowy sky.

“What were you in prison for?” you finally ponder aloud the question that’s been buzzing in your mind since Namjoon handed you that folder.

“I looked at your file, and it said you were there for three years.” He doesn’t reply. You huff out air that mimics the white wisps of smoke.

“I mean, since you’re working for me, I deserve to know. And don’t lie to me, I’ve had enough of that.”

Still not a word. You turn to him again, tilting your head because you really want a fucking answer.

“Was it for stealing?”

Several beats pass before he finally, darkly, mutters, “Murder.”

Your breath freezes in your lungs. So. You didn’t just fuck a convicted felon. You fucked a murderer.

That doesn’t scare you like it should.

“How’d you do it?” you find yourself asking out of morbid curiosity.

If you thought there was a wall around him before…

“How, D?”

“I stabbed him.”

“What, with chopsticks? Is that your go-to method? Kinda sloppy, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer your questions as if they’re rhetorical. You cross your arms and stare at the approaching Elantra. The valet steps out and passes D the keys, and you don’t wait for him to open the door but his hand on the side and the entrenchment of his cologne suspends you from getting in.

“Have you killed before, Miss Jeon?”

Your heart stops, completely flatlining when that question forces you to look at him. He’s looking right back from behind those glasses.

“No,” you say shortly, taken aback. Who does he think you are? “But if you didn’t mean something to my brother, you would’ve been my first.”

You keep your eyes locked on him for a beat so your words sink into his bones. And then you get in the car, slamming the door shut and pulling out your phone as if you didn’t just threaten his life.

For the entire night, you act as if he is nothing but a shadow.

You don’t get home until 2 in the morning, and as you unpack your gym duffle to do laundry (because if you don’t do it now, it won’t get done), you find a finely rolled wad of new, crisp bills tucked under your gym clothes.

500,000 won.

Bastard. It’s too late for that.

it's finally heeeeeere thank you for waiting!!! shoutout to the kdrama "bloodhounds" (on netflix starring my man woo dohwan) bc without it i would've never known that in korea, locals aren't allowed in any casinos except for one. so in this story we're going to pretend that Stay Gold casino is the exception lol. to get inspo, i've been watching a lot of movies about casinos and casino with robert de niro is where i got the idea for the scene with the counters. i just wanted to make the disclaimer that i did not come up with that on my own lol. there are other movies that i've pulled scene ideas from so i will make sure to point those out in the future.

thanks for being here!! please let me know what you think now that things are really getting started!!

chapter 3 is already in the works

xxx - claret

<<<previous chapter * next chapter>>>

taglist: hmu if you want to be added/removed

@viankiss @polarnightmyg @taegijns @rinkud @ktownshizzle @lixies-favorite-cookie @busanbby-jjk @wonh0oe @jajabro @mar-lo-pap @nansasa @kiki-zb @futuristicenemychaos

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mjso-soupp · 2 days ago

Note

Hey would you do Laito headcanons about how he would deal with an s/o that’s besties with Ayato? Since we already know he’s a jealous person and all-

Jealous Laito

This is SOO late, I had some free time so I just answered this one request.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈

This wasn’t fair.

He marked you as his, yet, here you were, sitting next to his brother laughing boisterously while playing video games with him.

From the moment you were trapped here, Laito made it his personal mission to claim you, ruin you. He got it, alright, but the issue of his dear brother remained.

It was getting harder to fake that laugh and smile.

“Laito, the hell ya’ doing just standing there? Why don’t you join us!” Ayato eyed him welcomingly, “She’s been getting her ass beat this whole time.”

And she would look at him too, lovingly but not equal to how she would Ayato.

Laito contemplated joining, however he found the fresh fang mark on her neck more interesting. He couldn’t crack in front of his brothers, but rather on her privately.

“Bitch-chan,” Laito spoke tensely, jaw clenched with a slight edge, “I’m thirsty, you can play with him tomorrow.” He reached for her collar, smiling darkly, “If you make it.”

“Hey we’re playing the game!” Ayato groaned.

Even whilst he dragged her to their shared room, she looked back at Ayato for security and not him.

“La-aito,” her meek voice choked quietly, “Why are y-you upset?”

He didn’t answer until he threw her down on the floor of the room, towering over her shaking body.

“You’re mine, you realize that little bitch?” She nodded, “So why are you letting my brother drink from you?”

“H-he was thirsty, I didn’t wan—“ He began laughing, “Yet you enjoyed it, sitting there so obediently next to him.”

Laito kneeled down to meet her shaky eyes, tears forming at the corners threatening to drop. Saying her fear didn’t turn him on would be a lie, he loved it. So much, in fact, he leaned in and lapped up a drop with his tongue, causing her to flinch suddenly.

His hand softly petting her head trailed towards the midst of her neck, coiling tightly with a tightening grip.

“When I first saw you, I knew I had to have you,” He spoke softly in her ear, his breath brushing her ear, “And now you’re mine.”

She gasped at the slice on her ear, his fang making a clean cut on her lobe.

“But it appears you need me to refresh that sweet little brain of yours.”

His tongue traced the puncture and moved south to her neck, taking just a moment to acknowledge the fresh bruises from his grip.

“Look~ Your soft skin bruises so easily, I wonder how many bites you can take before you give out.” He practically moans in her ear.

“L-Laito, I l-love you,” she gasped, “Not him.”

The words pierced through his heart, not sympathy, just weighing the magnitude of her lie. He’s not a fool.

“You humans always speak of love, yet you cannot love correctly neither.”

He landed on a dip of her throat, grazing his fang, warning her, preparing her for it. Even in his anger, he still cared for her.

Fangs pierced through her throat, signaling her thrashing to begin. Though this wasn’t like before, just a usual feeding never hurt this bad—not this draining before.

Her eyelids felt heavy, something was wrong. He wrapped his arm around her so tightly, the other finally releasing her jugular and pushing her down on the wooden floor.

With a loud pop, his mouth detached from her and curled up into a smile.

“I’ll show you how much I love you.”

Both hands moved onto working on his belt, clinking restlessly before it slid out the loops. She attempted to break free, not before realizing he was straddling her hips.

“Don’t move so much little bitch~ It’ll just make this more difficult.”

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #vampires #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #fanfiction #dl fanfic #fandom #diabolik lovers x reader #diabolik boys

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lyrebright · 3 days ago

Text

clair obscur: expedition 33 is haunted

It's a narrative drenched in grief from start to credits roll. Really, it's no surprise that this game has ghosts in it. Not literal ghosts, of course.

Well--

Much like family, that's complicated, I suppose

We open the game on the gommage. We open the game spending maybe thirty minutes to an hour getting to know how deeply Lumiere is grieving; how they have grieved for the past 67 years; how they will, like as not, continue to grieve more. Lumiere is, much like the game itself, a city made more of ghosts than those that still live in it.

It's very deliberate that we start the game with Gustave. There's a lot of reasons we do this, but--one is clear from the very start. We are starting this game as a man who loves a ghost. Because Sophie is already dead. The flowers that ring the necks of those who are about to gommage are mourning garlands laid on graves that still live and breathe.

For now.

The gommage, the prologue entire--it's masterful at getting you emotionally connected to Gustave. To understanding the stakes of what they are fighting for.

And then Act I happens.

From hour one, the game works to establish how haunted Gustave, personally, is. The love of his life turns to dust in his arms, and the only reassurance he can offer her is that he's there with her. That she won't be alone as it happens. And then he reaches the continent, and death is all that surrounds him. He watches his comrades die, one after the other. And when he makes his way back to look for survivors, he instead finds an altar of corpses he willingly goes to lay himself upon. The ghosts are calling out to him, weighing down on him, and if Lune hadn't arrived when she did--if she hadn't called out to him before he pulled that trigger--Gustave would have joined their ranks.

(Put a pin in this knowledge. We will come back to it later.)

Lune and Sciel are, of course, haunted in their own ways--Sciel's ghosts are horribly painful and depressing to think about--but the game is invested in Gustave's ghosts, because his ghosts are about to become Maelle's. And he's going to join them, be one of them.

Beyond the Dessendre family's grief, beyond and above all of that--Gustave is undoubtedly the ghost that haunts the narrative the most. It's in a lot of subtle ways, outside of that first wrench of grief and the scene where they lay him to rest. His name and inspiration in Maelle's skills. His name invoked in battle. The fact that in camp scenes he is consistently brought up. In a way, he's even with the party throughout the final battle--he was the one who noticed that the chroma was lingering in the bodies of expeditioners slain by nevrons; without Gustave, there is no sword of Lumiere to clear the path to Renoir. The game shows, over and over again, that while Gustave is dead, he is not gone.

And it's in light of this, and finishing the game, that you realise...Gustave is sort of just Verso?

Rewatching Act I, the first moment this understanding hit me--with a depth beyond just thinking of them as foils of "Maelle's brother"--was when he pulled out that gun. Faced with such terrible loss, faced with such terrible loneliness, Gustave makes the same decision Verso would, a hundred times over: oblivion. And it's very deliberate, and a very stark note about Gustave's character, because it's him alone of the expedition survivors with this reaction. Verso might have been the one to spirit Maelle away from the slaughter, but alone in the manor she was firm on staying alive. Lune and Sciel, arguable more cynical than Maelle, also choose to forge ahead. To live, because the oath is WHEN one falls. When, not if.

And it's in those words that the most telling link between Gustave and Verso is made clear, in the silence that echoes from an answer and a truth that Gustave cannot give: does Gustave still believe that Lumiere is more important than any one individual life?

Rewatching that scene with eyes that have seen the end was like a bullet to the head. The characters might not know in that moment. The player might not know. But the writers do, and it's with lines like this that they set up pain in a myriad of subtle ways. From the start, Gustave was a ghost. From the start, Verso was a ghost. They're the same goddamn person.

The scene where Verso reveals he could have saved Gustave, but chose not to--in the moment, it was shocking and not, all at once. His timing had felt suspicious from the start. And as he gave his reasoning, it became clear it was...more of Verso's unintentional self-sabotage you see time and again through his character beats and history.

We know Verso has travelled with multiple expeditions. We know that he genuinely does come to care for them, despite knowing what inevitably waits for them, whether they succeed or fail; it is clear in every inch of him that Verso is a man who cannot help but fall a little bit in love with everyone around him. With those who, unlike him, fight with something he doesn't have (hope).

Verso, time and again, makes choices that are bad and hurt him. And really, if you think about it...his allowing Gustave to die was really one of these. Because of everyone on the expedition...Gustave was the most likely to agree with Verso's point of view?

Because he'd already expressed, unspoken: Maelle's life is more important to him than not just his own, but all of Lumiere. There's a reason they chose that exact framing for the question Lune posits to him way back in the first hours of the game, and it's because that's the exact thing the entire game is about. Which lives matter more?

To Verso, it is, at the end of the day, the real Dessendre family. And while I doubt Gustave would care about "real" or "painted," what he does care about is Maelle, and he would want her to live, not keep living in a world that would kill her.

Would Gustave want to kill the rest of Lumiere for this? No, of course not. He isn't so far gone in his own grief as Verso to write off the entirety of the Canvas. But if he had survived until Act III--if he was one of three remaining lives of Lumiere in the final stand against Renoir...I think he would accept the inevitable. I think he would try and convince Maelle to leave, instead of remaining to repaint the world and dead around them.

Because Gustave is a character defined by his grief in a way almost none of the others are. Lune chafes under her parents legacy but strives for it anyway. Sciel lives like life nor death matter to her and falls for the dream that Maelle can bring her husband back.

But when we see Gustave face down grief, while we see him shut down in the wake of it, we also see him accept it. In that sense, Gustave--despite the Versoisms of him, at his core--is one of the most balanced and well adjusted members of the cast, suicide attempt and all. No wonder they had to kill him.

Maelle calls Gustave "the best father and brother I ever had," and once again--she doesn't know what she's saying in that moment. But the writers do.

Gustave is the Verso and the Renoir who is capable of doing something we see the Dessendre's struggling with time and again: he is the father and brother capable of letting go. And his death really foreshadows both endings: in one, Maelle cannot let go of the Canvas, and in the other, Verso cannot let go of oblivion.

You think in false dichotomies, Lune told Verso once. It's not always an either/or situation.

Because yes, there is a world out there, maybe, where Maelle could have kept the Canvas, where she could have granted Verso his oblivion without the rest of the world going with him. A world where maybe Maelle could find balance in being Alicia, where she could leave the Canvas and return and know that Renoir would not erase it in her absence because he trusts her.

But that world isn't here. It's not the world we get, because at the end of the day this game is about grief and not moving on. It's about repeating the same patterns and cycles and hoping that things end up differently this time.

It's a game about ghosts.

And the kindest thing you can do for a ghost is lay them to rest.

#clair obscur: expedition 33 #ramblings about grief and a lot of spoilers #im sick and had like 3 hours sleep so if this is an incoherent mess oops

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padfootagain · 2 days ago

Text

We’ll figure it all out

Hi!! Answering a request from an anon here!

Hope you like it! It’s kind of bitter sweet. Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem! Reader

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: You think about the risk of your relationship with Andrew becoming known by the public, and start panicking. Will Andrew manage to soothe you enough to save your relationship?

Word Count: 2047

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You love him, you really do.

You watch him now, reading in his armchair, by the fire, in his living room. It’s warm, comfortable, domestic, this sight that reveals itself to your eyes. He’s focused, a small frown digging a crease between his brow. He’s been reading Joyce again lately. A story of leaving home, to become someone. The weight of being an individual. Changing. Becoming.

He looks up now, he felt your gaze upon him, insistent and not quite fond. Or rather… it was fond, but not just that. Fond and scared. Yes, when he looks up and catches your eyes, he reads fear in them, and his frown deepens. He doesn’t understand why…

“You’re alright, love?”

You shake yourself, emerging from a daydream. From a scenario your brain keeps on playing. It’s all because of the world outside this house, it’s nothing to do with Andrew, with the love you share with him. And yet…

He tilts his head in a silent question. It hurts. It breaks all of your defences.

You’ve seen another example on twitter and Instagram. You’ve seen the harassment towards someone who hadn’t done anything wrong. She just fell in love with an actor. Someone famous right now, you can’t even remember who. All you can think of is the pain in her eyes as she asked people to leave her alone, the poison in the words commented under each of her posts. You can’t understand it. You physically cannot. Your brain doesn’t have that ability. Why some people think it’s okay to send hatred to a stranger on the internet, a stranger who’s never done anything to hurt them?

Because they’re jealous and full of hatred.

That’s the logical explanation. It doesn’t make the pain easier to carry, the fear disappear.

“Honey? What’s wrong?”

You stare at his hazel eyes, think of how they’re caught in crossfire. How Andrew doesn’t deserve this, but you’re too scared not to act. You can’t ignore it, the banging on your heart, the pain through your skull…

You walk over to him, and he closes his book after nestling a bookmark between the pages. It’s a picture of the two of you, he carries it everywhere. From your first anniversary, last year. When things were obviously serious and yet they were simple too. No pressure. We’ll figure it out as we go. We’ll find something. Hey, we don’t even know where we’re heading, so why worry about what others think? We’ll keep this to ourselves, and it’ll be fine. That’s what he said by then. But a year has flown by, and now you live with him, and everything has changed.

The corners of the polaroid are bent and wrinkled, but your smiles on the picture are unwavering. A moment caught in time. A moment that passed.

He offers you his hand, and you take it. You don’t have a choice, that’s how it always is with him. You can’t resist, you can’t take a logical decision. Not when you love him so deeply.

“I know there’s something off, lately,” he speaks in measured words, in a calm tone, careful not to scare you. “Tell me what it is. Maybe I can help?”

Help? He can’t help. If the world learns about the two of you, you’ll get harassed like everyone else, and there’s nothing he’ll be able to do to stop it. And you’re terrified. You didn’t sign up for this. You signed up for Andrew. You signed up for the lad who blushed and stumbled on his words the first time he spoke to you. For the charm in his bright smile, and the warmth in his voice, and the gentleness in his fingers. You signed up for a man who is kind, smart, and funny in a kind of weird way. You signed up for afternoons spent reading with Andrew by the fire and drinking tea. You had to sign up for the long absences too, the phone calls in the middle of the night, the conversations spoken in a hurry. You had to sign up for hands refraining from reaching and holding in public, for kisses hidden, for lies to be heard in interviews. And it was okay. He was worth it, all of it.

But this… insane hatred? The thought that you could be the next victim on that list, it was making you question everything.

Was Andrew worth that, too? The pain, the violence, the tidal wave?

He pulls you closer, until you’re standing between his legs. On his nose, his glasses are a little crooked when he looks up, and you straighten them without thinking.

“I’m worried,” you admit.

“About what?”

“Us.”

Your answer is more direct than what he expected, shorter as well, and more painful. A dagger straight to his heart.

Us?

“What about us? What’s wrong about us?” he questions, his tone urgent and too revealing to his liking.

You trail your fingertips down the side of his cheek, lost in thoughts, it would seem. Then you cup his jaw, holding him in the palm of your hand.

“Nothing’s wrong about us, but…”

You pull away, take a step back, slip between his fingers, and Andrew’s too aware of how fragile his happiness is now.

He looks for what you’re going to say next in your eyes, but you hide them from him, averting your gaze towards the floor. You’re fleeing, he can see all your pieces folding over themselves. He can feel the wall that you build through the room…

He reaches out anyway, takes your hand, stops you from moving further, so you won’t leave for good, so the gap between you and him will not become insurmountable.

He’s noticed lately, how you spend a lot of time on your phone, how you zone out sometimes, how you sit just a little further from him on the couch in the evening, how you cling onto him almost desperately at night.

He’s been too afraid to ask before. Andrew is beyond worried. He’s freaking terrified. Maybe you have someone else, maybe you’ve realised his lifestyle is unbearable, maybe you don’t love him anymore…

“Baby…”

Your voice is shaking as you speak, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he gets up, takes a step closer, lets out a shaky breath out of relief when you don’t move away again.

He’s still baby, it has to mean something, right? He never wants to be anything for you but baby, love, honey, darling… He doesn’t want to be back to Andy, doesn’t want the stranger that Andrew has become on your lips.

He takes both of your hands now, holds them tight, clings onto them like hope.

“I know something’s off with you. I’ve been feeling it, lately,” he speaks softly, his voice fragile and deep. “If you tell me what it is, I’ll fix it. Did I do something wrong?”

But you shake your head.

“Christ, love… no, it’s not you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Why are you acting weird, then? Why are you sad? Why are you saying there’s something wrong about us?”

“There’s nothing wrong about our relationship, I’m just… I don’t know…”

You heave a sigh, look up at him again, at last.

“I’m freaking out.”

“About what?”

“About… your fans.”

He frowns, taken aback. He knows what you mean, though, he’s far from stupid. Still, he doesn’t know what to say now.

“Did… did someone harass you? Did people online harass you?”

“No… no, they haven’t. I don’t reckon that anyone knows about you and me.”

He heaves a relieved sigh, but your gaze only saddens.

“But what will happen when they find out? When the world finds out? When I can’t go online anymore because I keep receiving hate and threats? When I can’t live my life as normal because of your career?”

You don’t like the accusation you throw at him, the way you say it’s his fault, when it isn’t. But then it’s not yours either, then who’s to blame?

He clenches his jaw.

“We can figure things out. No one knows for now, we’re not there yet…”

“No, not yet. But eventually, we will… and what then? What will happen then? What’s the plan? What will you do about it? And what if… what if I’m not ready to brace against that earthquake? What if I can’t cope with it? What if I don’t want to have to cope with it?”

He searches through your stare for a glimmer of hope, but he only finds doubt, and his heart drops.

He can’t say it. What will happen if you don’t want to choose him. He can’t say it out loud. And if you do speak those words, he knows that the proper thing to do is to take it in, to accept it. It’s your choice. It’s a lot to ask to another person, and you’re right, he won’t be able to do much about all of this shitshow if it comes to that, he would understand if you wanted to leave. What he should do then is try to make you weigh the pros and the cons, argue with you and try to find a solution, and then let you go with dignity if you decide he’s not worth that risk.

But he knows what he will actually do if you say it out loud. He’ll panic. He’ll start crying. He’ll beg. He’ll throw all self-respect out the window and will do anything to make you stay. He’ll drop to his knees if he has to, he doesn’t care, doesn’t give a shit about his ego…

You’re pulling your hands out of his grasp, but he tightens his hold. He can’t let you go…

If you don’t want to cope with it…

… then you’ll break up with me.

“Y/N… we can find a way out of this.”

“There’s no solution! If people find out, they’ll get crazy and I’m terrified of the violence that could come my way! But what’s the other option? Hiding forever? One day or another, people are going to put two plus two together…”

“We’ll face that storm together.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough for that.”

“Of course, you are. We’ll just go offline while it soothes down…”

“What if it doesn’t…”

“It will. It’s just stupid people talking shit. They’ll lose interest.”

“After dissecting my entire life!”

He blinks, not quite ready to admit defeat, but there’s no answer to be given to your doubts, no reassurance to your fear.

“All I can do is promise you that I’ll do anything I can to protect you. That I’ll be here, by your side. That we’ll go through this together. I can’t control what people do…”

“I know.”

“You… you have to be the one to decide whether or not I’m worth enduring this. I can’t choose that for you.”

You start crying then, and Andrew knows he’s not far behind, feeling the prickling of tears at the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll make it worth it… I’ll do anything to make it worth it,” he adds, his voice pleading already.

One word, and he’ll fall to his knees…

But you shake your head, and whisper something about all this being wrong. The next second you’re in his arms, holding him so tight he can barely breathe.

“I’m sorry, I’m freaking out,” you whisper.

“It’s alright. Just… please, stay. We can survive this. I know we can. I love you so fucking much…”

“I love you, too.”

“Please, don’t leave me…”

You shake your head, hold him even tighter.

“I don’t want to. I love you.”

He closes his eyes in relief, holds you tight.

“For now, we can keep a low profile. We can still keep this to ourselves, protect our privacy. You know I won’t give anyone details about us…”

“I know…”

“And if things come out, we’ll figure something out. We’ll have to. We’ll have to, because I love you too much to lose you.”

You’re still scared when you nod, but Andrew’s right. You don’t have a choice. You’ll have to cross that bridge when you come to it. Because you love him too much for anything else to be possible.

“I love you too, baby.”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fandom #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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tomatette · 3 days ago

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Chapter 1

Billy doesn’t wake with a start as you might think he would after what happened at the mall.

The memories are still so very fresh. Pain, first and foremost. Sharp talons digging into the tender meat of his sides, piercing his flesh. His panicked nerves sending lightning strike after lightning strike of pure, unadulterated agony into his thalamus, from where it scattered like wildfire through his brain, sparking every circuit that knew how to scream.

And, oh, scream he did. Until his throat was raw and he could taste black bile on his tongue.

He knew, then, that this would be the end. Had known it from the moment he’d surfaced from the bottomless well he’d kept drowning in whenever the shadow took over, which was pretty much always.

But he just hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of the girl, who had touched his face so tenderly, to die the same gruesome death he’d condemned the others to.

He sees them all the time, it’s like their faces are burned onto the inside of his closed lids. Men, women, children. Every single one he had fed to the shadow. God, there are so many of them. And they are surrounding him, their mouths open in silent screams, their eyes full of fear and rage and hatred, cutting into him sharper than the monster’s claws ever had, tearing him apart.

And right in the front: Heather.

He cannot bear to meet her gaze. She’d been worried about him, and look what it had gained her.

But it’s not an entirely new development, that. All he’s ever done was hurt the people around him. Even before the shadow. Max. Her friends. Harrington.

A whine escapes his throat, tearing the soft tissue on its way out. He squeezes his eyes shut but the tears escape anyway, burning salty trails wetting the hair at his temples.

So no, he doesn’t wake with a start, but slowly, gradually. And, frankly, he thinks he shouldn’t be waking at all. Because by all rights he should be just as dead as them. Still, they are gone and he’s not. So he decides that, no, maybe he really doesn’t deserve to be dead. Death would be too easy.

The first thing he feels is the sun on his face. Something he had never expected to feel again. A soft breeze caresses his face, slightly cooler where the tear tracks are drying.

Where is he? It can’t be the mall, but he has no recollection of getting out (but he remembers dying, remembers it vividly).

His lashes are clumped, his lids heavy when he tries to open his eyes and squints when painfully bright light drills a direct path into his brain, making his whole head throb and pulse. Bile floods his mouth, bitter and sharp, and he rolls over retching, curling in on himself.

A voice that sounds eerily like his father’s sneers: “Look at you, can’t even die like a man, huh? Spineless pussy.”

It doesn’t hurt like it used to, which, he supposes, is a good thing. And when he finally manages to open his eyes, it’s not Neil he’s seeing, but the gentle, smiling face of his mother.

“M-Mom?”

Soft, golden light surrounds her head like a halo, the wind plays with the sun bleached strands of her hair. It makes her look angelic. Ethereal.

“My darling boy.” She cups his face, still smiling and his heart swells with emotions he can’t even begin to decipher, when suddenly her eyes turn sharp and her fingers dig into his cheeks, holding him still. “What a grave disappointment you are. Getting rid of you was the best decision I’ve ever made …”

And then she starts to laugh and Billy reels back, eyes wide in terror.

He wakes with a start.

I posted the full chapter on Ao3 but for registered users only. Please let me know if you want me to post the full chapter on tumblr too.

#Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Harringrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #CallMeAnyTime #my writing #allthestuffimade #my fic #This is a fix-it fic #believe it or not #let's put billy through the wringer first okay?#but seriously #my man has the worst time in this #The first chapter is devastating if I dare say so myself

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doortotomorrow · 2 years ago

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rebecca shepard / kaidan alenko - finding a moment of peace

#Mass Effect #Rebecca Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #ro: sexy spectres #cannot get over how he looks at her in this moment #he loves her so damn much #one last well needed moment of peace before the final battle #during this whole scene #I was sniffing back tears because I knew I was saying goodbye to this playthrough of the trilogy

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the-little-crow · 8 days ago

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If one more event happens in my life this week, hell, this month, I’m just gonna go lay in the woods and let nature reclaim me. I do NOT need another fucking plot line added to the goddamn soap opera I live in.

#crow rambles #screaming into the void #seriously though I’m like *this* close to loosing my shit #my car leaking oil is going to be my last goddamn straw #like I cannot emphasize how much bullshit has been going on in my life #my brother died and I had like two days to process that before getting on a plane and going to Ireland for a week #I get back and everything is a wreck because of course it is #nobody at my job knows what’s going on because we just got bought by a new company #and they have the communication skills of a goddamn brick wall #my brothers crazy ex is starting her shit up again (acting like she’s soooo heartbroken he died)#(even though she literally made the last years of his life a living hell)#my mental health is all over the goddamn place #one day I’m totally fine and the next I’m fully convinced everyone is talking abt me behind my back #I realize (through talking to a diagnosed friend about symptoms) that I might have a bit of OCD #and on top of ALL of that I’m trying to look for a new place to live so I can get the fuck out of my mothers house #not to mention the stress from literally everything going on in the world #like I’m considering trying to leave the country but at the same time the amount of time/effort/money that takes is just…#I literally do not have the savings or the skills to get a high-enough paying job #I’m like five seconds from a breakdown at any given moment #but also strangely calm because I’m so used to shit being completely insane

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hikeyzz · 10 months ago

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i used to think i knew love until someone came along that makes me smile and giggle like i did when i was a little girl and now i feel i've known true love

#and i don't just mean smiling and giggling like any little kid #i mean the way he loves me goes straight to my inner child and lights her up and she truly comes out in those moments #i have photos of me smiling as a little girl that look nearly indistinguishable from me when he is sweet to me #i cock my head to the side and grin super cheesy and hold my hands together outstretched #my heart feels whole for the first time in a long time #like i would never expect someone like him to be able to speak to and tend to my inner child #we are just such different people #but our hearts are the same #ahhhhh sorry i gush i just am so very in love with this man and cannot get over it #he knows me and my heart and my life and i trust him with all of me #i adore knowing him and loving him and getting to see him move through the world #i just wanna show him how special and wonderful he is for the rest of his life #the best most precious boy the world could ever know #and he's all mine 🥰🥰🥰#hikey #🫛

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connorsui · 4 months ago

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Hi! Can I ask for a Sylus fluff, where he gives the reader his bank card for her to go shopping, and he expects a bill to be at least $10,000, but all he sees is about $100. So he asks her if she bought everything she wanted, and she says something like "yeah, there were such good discounts, I didn't spend too much, did I?"

And man is just ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ GIRL GO SPEND MY MONEY I WANT TO SPOIL YOU

My beloved @lalaluch I cannot explain to you just how much fun this was to even imagine but let alone even WRITE 🩷 like I was losing my mind trying to bust out my Google docs to even make this. But my sickness was literally getting to me that all I could do was imagine--but anywhoo now that it's finally done I hope you all enjoy it ✨️

p.s: I hope this sickness finally leaves me because it be making me internally cry on the inside ...I pray for prayers lol 💅🏻

BUDGET QUEEN

It had taken weeks of gentle coaxing, half-joking remarks, and the occasional exasperated sigh before you’d reluctantly agreed. You had this stubborn streak, an insistence on independence that both irritated and fascinated him. But today, you’d finally caved.

“You’ll take it,” Sylus had said that morning, slipping the sleek card into your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “No arguments. No excuses.”

You had sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But I’m not going crazy with it?!”

He had only smirked, knowing full well you would—and knowing full well that he wanted you to.

And now, hours later, he awaited the results.

Sylus leaned back in his leather chair, his crimson eyes flicking lazily over the documents cluttering his desk. A rare break in his usual chaos had him sipping on his usual drink, savoring the brief quiet. That was until his phone buzzed. He set his glass down and checked the notification, a message from his bank popping up.

He expected it—he wanted it. You had finally caved to his insistence after a literal month of convincing and taken his black card to go shopping. He’d envisioned the inevitable message all morning, something like:

One-hundred million spent at Celine and The Row’s combined?

Or perhaps?

Fifty million at Loro Piana?

You’d mentioned their beauty and elegance more than once.

Nevertheless, the man wanted indulgence, excess—you deserved it, after all.

Instead, the message read:

$157.45 at… Assorted Stores.

Sylus stared at the screen, unblinking. Surely, this was a mistake. He refreshed his balance multiple times. Same amount. He checked for pending transactions. None.

“…What?” he muttered, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. He slammed his phone down, crossing his arms as he waited for you to return.

Minutes later, the front door opened, and you walked in, humming happily, two bags dangling from your arms. You looked utterly content, your warm smile sending a pang through Sylus’s chest. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he had questions.

“You’re back,” he said, leaning against the doorframe to his study, watching you set the bags down in the living room. His towering presence cast a shadow over you, his white hair catching the light, giving him an almost otherworldly aura.

“Yup!” you chirped, rifling through the bags. “You wouldn’t believe the deals I found today! It’s like the universe knew I had your card!”

Sylus squinted. “Deals?”

“Yeah! Everything was on sale! I even had coupons for some things. Oh, and this boutique downtown was having a clearance event! It was amazing!” You beamed at him, oblivious to his growing disbelief.

“Clearance? ..…How much did you spend?” he asked, his voice neutral. Too neutral.

“Um…” You frowned, pulling your phone out to check. “About a few hundred, I think? Oh, wait—like one-fifty! I didn’t spend too much, did I?” You tilted your head, as if genuinely concerned.

Sylus stared at you, his expression shifting to one of incredulous disbelief. His red eyes seemed to glow, and his lips pressed into a thin line. It was the look of a man deeply offended. Not by you—but by the principle.

“…That’s it?” he asked, his voice sharp but measured, as if he were trying to comprehend an alien concept. “One-fifty?”

You blinked up at him, a little confused by his tone. “Well, yes… I mean, I didn’t want to waste your money—”

“Waste my—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his snowy hair. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, “do you have any idea why I gave you my card?”

“To… buy some stuff?” you offered, suddenly feeling like you were missing something obvious.

“To spoil you,” he emphasized, stepping closer. “To treat you like the queen you are. To shower you in luxury. And you—” He gestured to the modest shopping bags on the floor, his voice taking on a dramatic edge. “—come back with clearance items?”

Your cheeks flushed. “But… I didn’t need anything expensive! I found good deals, and I thought—”

“No.” Sylus leaned down slightly, bringing himself to eye level with you, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “Listen to me, love. I don’t care about the price tag. I want you to have the best. The fact that you’re this thoughtful is adorable—don’t get me wrong—but next time…” He paused, his voice dropping into a softer, more commanding tone. “…I want to see receipts that would make the average person cry.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” He straightened, towering over you again, his arms crossing. “Do you know how much money I make? How much I’ve set aside specifically to spoil you?”

“I can guess?…”

“Clearly not if you’re spending less than a casual dinner out on everything.” His voice was calm, but laced with unmistakable disapproval.

Then, with a breath, he softened—only slightly. “I just want to see you dressed in diamonds,” he corrected, stepping closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. “To watch you slip into golden heels that make you shine like the goddess you are. To drape you in silk and velvet, to see you standing before me in a dress that costs more than a car and still doesn’t compare to your worth.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sudden weight in his words.

“I gave you my card,” he continued, voice lower now, intimate, “because I want you to indulge. To spoil yourself the way I ache to spoil you. Because you deserve to walk into a store and not think—just watch and admire”

Your throat went dry.

He lifted his hand, fingers brushing over your wrist before tracing upward, his touch featherlight against your skin. “I want to see you try on jewelry without looking at the price tag,” he murmured. “I want to sit back and watch as a saleswoman fumbles to put a necklace around your throat because her hands are shaking too much from the sheer amount of wealth wrapped around you.”

His gaze dipped lower, lingering on your frame as he exhaled through his nose. “And instead… you bring me deals?”

Your heart pounded, a mix of amusement and something else entirely stirring in your chest. “I didn’t think I needed to spend that much—”

“You don’t need to,” he interrupted, thumb ghosting over your jawline. His voice was softer now, but no less commanding. “But I want you to.”

Your face heated.

“Next time, I’m going with you.”

“What, to make sure I spend enough?” you teased.

“Yes,” he said, dead serious. “And to carry your bags. And to remind you that you can have whatever you want.” His red eyes softened slightly, and he tilted your chin up with two fingers. “All I want is to see you happy. No discounts required.”

You smiled at his sincerity, warmth blooming in your chest. “Okay, fine. Next time, I’ll go a little crazier. Maybe five million?” you joked.

Sylus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

You laughed, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

“And you’re too frugal for your own good,” he shot back, pulling you into his arms. His voice softened, turning almost playful. “But I guess I’ll just have to teach you how to spend properly.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said, grinning against his chest.

Sylus sighed, resting his chin atop your head. As much as he wanted to spoil you senseless, he couldn’t help but love your thoughtful, practical side. It was part of what made you you—and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Still, next time… he was definitely making sure you left the store with at least an entire closet filled with designer bags.

For his sanity—and yours.

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viaviavie · 3 months ago

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OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

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