#come on let her appear or be mentioned!!!

[skalfy]

Misunderstandings pt 2 (aka understandings)

alexia putellas x reader, ~4.9k words, part 2/2

The very long-awaited (by me and maybe no one else) second part to this one!

Ingrid had been shocked, then eventually amused when you finally managed to explain Alexia’s presence in your apartment. You couldn’t help but to share her amusement at the situation, albeit tempered with the frustration at how avoidable the whole situation was. It seemed especially ironic that the crueler Alexia had gotten in defense of her friend, the more it had driven you to rely on Ingrid. Jenni had, of course, found the whole thing hilarious. The dark-haired Spaniard had spared a thought for you in acknowledging that it didn’t make your Barcelona career so far any less hellish, but then immediately dissolved into laughter as she made you recount every detail of the captain’s misguided trip to your apartment. By the time you got off the phone with her, Jenni had brought herself to tears with laughter at least three times, the last as she tried to do her best impression of how awkward Alexia would be as she tried to make up for her behavior.

Jenni had not been wrong. 

Alexia had started by apologizing. It was sincere, and she looked so miserable that you had no doubts that she had been thinking about her behavior. You had wanted to be tough, to make her work for it, but when she came up to you the next morning with bloodshot eyes and an apology that took full responsibility for her actions and acknowledged how hurtful she’d been, with the promise of more to come, you had accepted and told her you just wanted to move on.

For Alexia, “just moving on” apparently meant cautiously hovering at all times. On the field, she had turned from your greatest critic to your (mostly) silent guardian angel. She was the first to check on you at any sign of discomfort, and showered you with an assortment of items. Water bottle? Alexia was already handing it to you. Chance of rain? Alexia saw you didn’t bring your jacket and just grabbed an extra one, it’s here if you need it. It would have been a bit annoying if she hadn’t been so perceptive and thoughtful. As she paid closer and closer attention, she got quite good at predicting your needs.

—

A few weeks after the apology, Alexia’s hovering had died down to a less alarming level. She still seemed to be extra concerned with your wellbeing, but there was a lot less of the awkward lingering that Jenni had anticipated. 

Without Alexia’s poor treatment to contend with, you had also gotten more into the rhythm of the team as well, and you were enjoying time with the team, especially the regular team events. 

At the moment, though, you had been feeling the threat of a cold coming on for the past few days, and that plus a cool, rainy game, had left you feeling even more achy and tired than you expected. It was a bit disappointing to miss out on team bonding, but you hardly hesitated to send a message to Lucy and let her know that you wouldn’t make it to the movie night she and Ona were hosting. You loved the team, but you were certain your head wouldn’t be able to take the laughter and loud chatter, not to mention your shoulders and neck were knotted so tight that anything more active than lounging around on your couch sounded miserable.

A gentle knock on your apartment door roused you from the half-sleep you had fallen into. You were disoriented for a moment, head throbbing angrily as you raised it from the cocoon of blankets you had wrapped yourself in. Pirates of the Caribbean was still playing quietly on the tv, and at first you thought that was what had woken you, then another knock at the door sounded and cut through your confusion.

Dragging one of the blankets along, you crossed over to the door and opened it, revealing Alexia.

Unlike the last time she had appeared at your door, the midfielder didn’t push her way past you. Instead, she stood in place, fingers twisting nervously as she waited for you to acknowledge her. For your part, you just stared as your fuzzy head caught up to the situation.

“Hi,” your voice cracked, so you cleared your throat and tried again with marginally more success, “Hola, Alexia.”

“Hola,” she replied. “You weren’t at the movie.” It didn’t sound like a reprimand, but you felt tears prick at the back of your eyes anyway. You felt so uncomfortable and unwell and the thought that Alexia might be here to tell you off for skipping team bonding was overwhelming.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, tugging the blanket tighter around your shoulders and dropping your gaze to the floor.

“No, not sorry! I mean-- dios mio!” The captain sighed in frustration and your stomach dropped. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for her to continue. Instead, you were startled by a cool, dry hand gently cupping the side of your head. You couldn’t resist leaning into the soft pressure, and after a second it shifted from your cheekbone to your forehead. “Lo siento, I just came to make sure you are okay. I did not mean to upset you.”

You opened your eyes as Alexia slid her hand from your forehead back into the loose strands of hair escaping your bun, guiding them gently away from your face. The light touch felt good on your aching head, and you fought a shiver at the sensation.

“You feel warm. Let me help, vale?” 

You weren’t expecting the offer, but you also weren’t in a state of mind to ponder it further. Plus, while you weren’t sure how you felt about the captain, you did trust that she meant well this time.

“Vale.” You answered, then turned to walk back to your couch. Behind you, the blonde hesitated for a moment before following you in and shutting the door. 

After removing her shoes, she entered the living room and hovered awkwardly above where you had laid back down. You scrunched your feet up to make room for her at the end of the couch, but she made no move to sit.

“Have you had paracetamol?” 

You shook your head no, then winced at the shot of pain the motion sent from your neck to the base of your skull.

“Is it your head or your neck that hurts?” 

“Both, and my shoulders. Just tight from yesterday.” She nodded slowly.

“Where is the paracetamol?”

“Bathroom. Above the sink.” That was apparently her last question and you listened with closed eyes as she walked away.

You half-drifted off for a few minutes as Alexia made her way around your apartment, eventually setting a few things on the coffee table near you. You heard her knees crack as she crouched down, then felt her fingertips trail along your shoulder softly. 

“Can you sit up, cari?” Her tone was kind and you complied with the request, moving gingerly. “Gracias. Have this first.” She passed you a mostly peeled banana. You shot her a look, but obediently took a small bite. The midfielder waited patiently as you ate the whole thing, then traded the peel for two tablets and a glass of water. You took the pills with a sip of water, then reached out to return the glass to the table. Alexia intercepted you and pushed the water back, a smile tugging at her lips as you gave her another look before drinking the rest.

“Buen trabajo.” The praise might have made you blush if you were feeling better, but as it was you just handed the glass back.

Before you could lie back down, Alexia grabbed the pillow you had been using and sat where it had been. Setting the pillow on her lap, she gestured for you to lay there, guiding you until you were comfortable on your stomach with the pillow under your head. Surprisingly, the position felt much better than when you had arranged yourself on one side before.

“Okay if I rub your shoulders? To help with the pain?” She asked, voice a little uncertain.

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, desperate for anything to ease how tightly the muscles were knotted.

“Vale.” Her fingertips sunk gently into the muscles of your upper back, thumbs working carefully against the tops of your shoulders. The pressure was light, but you could feel her warm, steady hands start to soften the tension. 

You had nearly started to drift off again when the Spaniard moved to slide one hand up to grip the back of your neck. Caught off guard, you surprised yourself with a muffled groan as she dug her fingers in. Her hand stilled, but didn’t move from where it rested.

“Hurts?” Alexia asked in a low voice.

You kept your face tucked in the pillow, but responded, “Only a little. Feels good.

“Good.” You could hear the edge of a smile in her voice.

It didn’t take long after she resumed the massage for you to slip back into sleep.

—

This time when you awoke it wasn’t to the sound of someone at your door. You blinked yourself slowly into full consciousness, realizing as you did so that you weren’t alone. There was a hand cupped protectively against the back of your head, fingers threaded into your hair, and the warm glow of morning light throughout your apartment.

You were surprised to feel only a mild twinge of pain as you tilted your head to look up at the midfielder who was still sitting under you on the couch. You were amazed to see she was fast asleep, tucked into the corner of the couch, but still mostly upright. It couldn’t have been a very comfortable position, but she looked remarkably peaceful. 

After another moment of studying the sleeping blonde, you mentally shook your head and began to slowly extricate yourself from her lap. You felt well rested and far better than the night before, but now your body was reminding you that your dinner last night had only been a banana. Just as you carefully started to sit up, Alexia’s hand moved, stroking softly through your hair as she mumbled sleepily.

“Estás bien, dormirse”

Your heart squeezed at the way she instinctively tried to provide comfort. 

“Gracias, Alexia. I’m okay.” You replied quietly, gently completing your move to sit up out of her grasp. “I’m just going to make some breakfast, you can lie down and sleep.”

The blonde didn’t acknowledge your words, but when you stood up and draped your blanket over her form she did lean deeper into the couch and burrow into it rather adorably.

—-

As you moved through the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and heating up a pan for eggs, you thought about your visitor. It had been clear already from Alexia’s actions that she was trying to make up for the way she had treated you at the beginning, but the concern and care she had shown last night was more than you had expected. It hadn’t felt like an act either, the midfielder had simply seen you feeling poorly and stepped in to help. If this was the Alexia the rest of the team had all along, then you understood why everyone else held her in such high regard.

You were pretty certain, deep down, you had already forgiven the captain, but last night had certainly washed away any last temptation to hold a grudge. Alexia may have been in the wrong, but she had shown that her opinion of you had changed, and that she felt guilty about how cruel she had been. And, not that it excused anything, but you did understand her motivation in a sense– if nothing else she was trying to be a good friend, you’d grant her that.

The midfielder had been one of the players you were most excited to play with and learn from, so finally realizing that you both might be able to put the rocky start behind you was a relief. You felt almost like a weight had been physically lifted from your chest, though maybe that was just another ache that such a good night of sleep apparently fixed.

“Bon dia.” You looked up from the stovetop at the sound of Alexia’s voice. She was standing in the entryway looking somewhere between sleep-mussed and frustratingly model-like.

“Bon dia, Capi” you replied. “Thank you. For checking on me and for staying to help, I feel much better now.”

She ducked her head, but you caught a flash of pink across her cheeks as she did so. “No hay de qué, I’m glad you are better. Thank you for letting me sleep on your sofa.”

Now it was your turn to feel your cheeks heat. Did Alexia not realize you’d spent the whole night half on top of her, or was she just trying to give you a chance to pretend otherwise in case you were embarrassed. You chose your next words intentionally. “You are welcome to it anytime you would like, though I don’t think I gave you much of a choice when I fell asleep on you.”

The blonde’s bright smile told you that you chose correctly.

“Do you want any coffee? Eggs?” You asked, finally remembering the breakfast you were in the middle of making.

“I would, but my sister has already texted me four times to demand I meet her. I just wanted to check to see if you need anything before I go.”

“No, you’ve done more than enough for me already, don’t make your sister text you a fifth time.” You said, sliding the pan off the heat and stepping over toward Alexia. She stood completely still as you approached, but when you reached up to pull her into a hug, she softened into it immediately, wrapping her arms around your back to hold you tight. It reminded you instantly of the comfort of Jenni’s hugs, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d missed out all these months of not hugging Alexia.

—

In the weeks since she had spent the night, you felt like you had turned a corner with your relationship with Alexia. You weren’t holding onto the memories of her unkindness, and there was no longer any part of you that feared her attitude might change again. The only problem was that it didn’t seem like she had the same confidence you did. You couldn’t help but feel like the captain was still going out of her way to make it up to you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the special attention she was paying you, but what you really wanted was to move on and put the whole thing behind you. Alexia’s guilt over something you’d already let go wasn’t necessary, and there was a not-so-small part of you that feared if you waited too much longer you were going to end up hurt when she inevitably pulled away on her own. Once the Spaniard realized that everything was fine between the two of you, she would go back to being a professional, a teammate and captain and nothing else, and you understood that. It was just that it made your heart sink a little to think about it. You had gotten used to her attention, nothing more than that– but you know that it would be better to cut things off before you got too used to it.

All these thoughts were not far from the front of your mind when you arrived at the last full practice before your first Champions League game. Alexia met you as you stepped out of your car (or, rather, Alexia materialized a foot away from you when you looked up after closing your car door, which startled you the first few times, but now was a normal part of your morning). The midfielder passed you one of the two coffee cups she held, giving you a quick smile in response to your enthusiastic “¡Gracias!”

The coffee thing was a relatively new part of the captain’s arsenal of apology gestures. She had appeared one morning and nearly forced the cup into your hand before walking away quickly. Once you had recovered your wits, you had taken a sip and discovered that it was a dirty chai– your favorite. It had only taken a little wrangling to get the story from Ingrid; Alexia had FaceTimed Mapi from the coffee shop and demanded to be handed over to her girlfriend so that Ingrid could give your order to a highly amused barista. Since then, the morning coffee had become a regular occurrence, and you had managed to get the midfielder to stick around and walk in with you.

You were intent on practicing your Spanish, so the two of you chatted the whole way, Alexia patiently letting you work your way through what you wanted to say without interrupting. She was one of your favorite people to practice with for that reason– so many of your other teammates were quick to finish your thought for you, or just wanted to practice their English instead.

It was exactly this kind of interaction, though, that was troubling you, and you resolved to fix the situation once and for all by the end of the day.

—

Practice had gone well, and you were feeling both nerves and excitement as you walked off the pitch knowing that there was just recovery and a light training session between now and your UWCL debut. The familiar sounds of Patri and Pina’s banter filled your ears as you followed the pair into the changing room, but when they suddenly went silent, you looked up to see both pairs of eyes looking right at you. 

“Someone has an admirer,” Pina said, giving you a pointed smirk. You were confused for a moment, then saw past the two of them to your locker. There was clearly a vase of flowers inside, along with a ribbon-tied white box. You felt your cheeks flush. Unable to come up with a witty response to knock the curiosity out of your nosy teammates, you just shook your head and slid between the two to reach your locker and the gifts inside. 

The flowers were beautiful, and you moved them carefully off of the box and deeper into your locker. Normally, you might have had the good sense to spirit the gift away from the prying eyes of your teammates, but you were certain you recognized it, and you couldn’t wait a moment longer to confirm. You pulled the red ribbon to release the knot, and as it fell loose, you raised the lid to reveal exactly what you suspected. 

Inside were four mouthwatering breads that you knew immediately were from the little bakery near your apartment in Nuevo Leon. It had become a tradition, almost a superstition, for you to stop there on the morning of an important game when you had played for Tigres, and it was a tradition you sorely missed. You felt a sting behind your eyes as you realized what someone had done for you.

You closed the box up carefully, protecting the perfect breads once again before you made your way to shower. As you crossed the locker room, you caught the gaze of your captain already on you. Her cheeks colored, but she didn’t look away immediately, offering you a bashful smile that confirmed what you already knew about the source of your gifts.

—

By the time you finished your shower, everyone but Alexia had filtered out of the changing room. She was quiet as you toweled your hair dry and dressed, eyes glued to a boot that she was holding and… inspecting carefully? You broke the silence as you .

“Someone left beautiful flowers and a very thoughtful gift for me. Maybe someone who did their research and found out one of my old traditions.” At your words, Alexia finally looked up.

“Hmm. A lo mejor.” Her tone was neutral, but the same bashful smile you saw before crept across her face. “They are right? I had to trust Jenni and she likes to… joke.”

“Yes, they’re perfect. Thank you, Alexia.” You crossed the room to pull her into a tight hug, whispering an extra “gracias, capi” as you pulled back.

“You are welcome,” she whispered back, sounding almost breathless. “I just want you to feel happy here like you did there. And I want you to score goals for us in Champions like you scored for Tigres.”

You laughed at her final comment, but even to your own ears your huff of amusement held a dangerous edge of affection for the woman in front of you. A woman who, you reminded yourself, was just trying to be a good captain to you and make up for the weeks of misguided ire.

“Maybe I’ll even score a golazo for you.” You said, cringing inwardly at how much it sounded like a line one of the men’s team players would try on you back in college. You tacked on “As a thank you, of course.” somewhat awkwardly. Alexia’s smile in response was so bright that you couldn’t tell whether she was laughing at you or genuinely pleased by the prospect. Either way, you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Trato hecho. I will see you tomorrow.” The midfielder gave you one last quick smile as she turned to leave. As you watched her cross the room toward the door, you remembered your resolution from the start of practice. As much as you appreciated Alexia’s kindness, you had to rip off the proverbial band-aid. You called out to the blonde making her way out of the locker room.

“Alexia!” 

She stopped and turned immediately at the sound of your voice, walking back over to where you had both stood a moment ago.

“¿Sí? You are okay?” Her eyes scanned across you quickly as if checking to make sure you hadn’t somehow been injured in the last 30 seconds.

“Yeah, I just needed to tell you, um…” you trailed off, wishing now that you hadn’t called her back quite so impulsively. Her eyes had now settled intently on your face and it caught you off guard when you saw the intense, almost hopeful look in them. “You should know that I already forgave you, Ale. A long time ago. I appreciate how nice and thoughtful you have been, and the gifts and everything you’ve done, but I can’t let you keep doing it out of guilt. You can treat me like everyone else now, I just want to have you as my teammate and captain.”

“You.. que?” She furrowed her brows elegantly, face puzzled for a moment before it smoothed over into neutrality as she seemed to comprehend your words. When she spoke, her voice matched the blankness of her face. “Ah. Vale. Okey. Solo tu capitana.”

Her tone and words surprised you, but before you could react, Alexia mumbled a quiet “adeu,” and made a break for the door.

—

You had puzzled over Alexia’s reaction as you gathered up your belongings, flowers and box of panes included, and headed home. You had expected her to be, maybe not pleased, but at least glad to hear that you had moved past the earlier bad blood. She had clearly cared about fixing things, given the amount of effort she had put in to make it up to you, so why wouldn’t it be good news to her that you wanted to move past it?

The moment her face dropped into impassivity still hung in your mind as you set the beautiful vase of flowers on your kitchen table. As you rotated them slightly to appreciate the bouquet, a folded piece of paper caught your attention. It was nestled unobtrusively between soft petals, tucked away discreetly, probably so that prying eyes like Pina’s wouldn’t notice at a glance. You slipped it out carefully, unfolding and smoothing the creases so you could read the words inside.

Hola Y/N,

I hope you like the flowers. The florist said they mean luck and strength. You are already strong, and I know you don’t need luck, but they are very beautiful and extra luck is always good.

There was a crooked smiley face at the end of the sentence, and the thought of Alexia drawing it made you smile.

I am so happy that you are playing for Barca, and I am excited to watch you play in Champions League for the first time. You will be incredible, like you always are. No matter what happens in the game I am already proud of you, and I want to thank you for letting me earn your trust after how I acted.

If you have forgiven me, would you let me take you out to dinner after the game?

Con cariño,

Ale

The unfiltered kindness made your chest burn warm with affection, and you felt a swell of excitement at the invitation. It sounded almost like the captain was asking you on a date, and the idea filled your stomach with butterflies. Suddenly, your heart dropped. If it was an invitation to go on a date, then your words in the changing room must have sounded like an attempt to let Alexia down easy. You had clearly told her that you only wanted her to be your teammate. Thinking that you were freeing her from the burden of winning your forgiveness, saving your own heart from accidentally being strung along by the well-meaning captain, had you ruined the chance of more? 

Without thinking, you picked up the phone and called Ingrid.

“Hei du! What’s happening?” The norwegian answered after a ring.

“Ingrid. I think I fucked up.”

You explained the situation to her, speaking so quickly she had to ask you to slow down and repeat more than once. You finally finished with a wavery voice. “Do you think there’s a chance she might… have feelings for me?’

“Y/N…” Ingrid drew your name out slowly, then paused. “I think Alexia has been pretty well in love with you since about two days after she found out you weren’t stealing me from Maria. Herregud, you’ve been the only thing she talks or thinks about besides football. Maria’s been complaining for weeks that Alexia is too busy watching you to notice all the pranks she’s pulled on all children.”

You didn’t know what to say, and for a long minute Ingrid didn’t push you. Then, finally, she spoke again.

“Do you have feelings for Alexia?”

Your instinct was to defer, and “I don’t know” was right on the tip of your tongue, but before you said it, it felt wrong in your mouth. You thought about the way being around Alexia felt, the way you felt warm all over when she praised you, and how incredible it felt to be the center of her attention. You also thought about how good she looked on and off the pitch, the way her whole face lit up with a smile, and how she had looked standing in your kitchen, sleep-mussed from a night asleep on your couch. You bit your lip, cheeks rising in a grin.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“I think you better give our capitana a call.” You could just about hear the twinkle in Ingrid’s eye.

“Thank you, Ingrid.” 

You exchanged your goodbyes and ended the call, then after a deep breath, before you could lose your nerve, you called Alexia.

“Y/N?” She answered immediately.

“Alexia, hi. Hola.” You immediately stumbled over your words. “I read your note. I hadn’t read it yet when we talked before.”

“Sí, vale…” She said, imploringly.

“I thought everything you have been doing was to apologize, so that’s why I told you that I had already forgiven you. Because I have, and I like being your friend, and I like when you are sweet to me, and pay attention to me, and ask Jenni and Ingrid what my favorite things are. I was afraid that if you were doing those things because you felt guilty, that one day you would realize you didn’t have to feel guilty anymore, and you would start treating me just like every other teammate. Which would be okay, but it would also break my heart a little. So I wanted to make sure it happened soon, because I thought the later it happened, the more it would hurt.” 

You paused, and the midfielder made no move to interrupt your explanation.

“But after reading your note, it made me think that maybe I misunderstood. And it gave me hope that you might have feelings for me. Like the feelings that I have for you. So when I said I just wanted you to be my teammate and captain, I didn’t know that there could be an option for you to be more. So let me try to give you a better answer to the question you wrote in the note: I have forgiven you, and me gustaría mucho ir a cenar contigo.”

“Really?” Alexia breathed out.

“Really.” You replied. “I like you a lot, Alexia.”

“I like you a lot, too.” The smile in her voice was unmistakable, and you felt the last vestiges of worry drop away. You might have gotten started on the wrong foot, but things were looking pretty good after all.

Not planning for a part 3, but if anyone is really interested, let me know and I could be persuaded :)

tag: @marvelwomen-simp

[honeybelleee]

for you i’d bleed | p.js

req ( anon & my bae @kpopiedictionary ) : down bad boyfriend jay fighting someone who talked bad about you in your absence + passionate sex but dom!y/n

pairings - jay x fem!reader

genre - established relationship, dom!y/n x sub downbad!jay, smut (MDNI), fluff

warnings - lower case intended, fighting, jay getting injured, mention of blood, heavy oral (m receiving), pwp, y/n getting objectified

1,3 ++ wc ! masterlist

jay had never imagined he’d be fighting to defend y/n from someone so close to him, but the bitter reality hit when his friend’s careless mouth spewed inappropriate, lewd remarks about y/n in her absence.

the argument flared quickly, blazing like a fire out of control. jay’s friend, wearing a smug, dismissive grin, shrugged off jay’s fury as if y/n were meaningless a joke.

"why are you getting so worked up man?" his friend sneered. "if she wasn’t your girl, i’d fuck that pussy real good. she’s got a body that—”

“don’t,” jay interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “don’t talk about her like that. you have no idea who she is, and you clearly don’t respect her.”

his friend scoffed, crossing his arms. “come on jay, it’s just a joke. lighten up. it’s not like she’d ever even find out i said anything.”

jay stepped closer, fury flashing in his eyes. “that’s not the point. if you think I’m going to let you talk about my girlfriend like that, you’re dead wrong.”

“oh, so now you’re gonna act all tough? over a few words? you used to be fun, bro,” his friend taunted, raising his eyebrows in mock amusement.

jay’s patience finally snapped. “a real friend wouldn’t disrespect the woman i love,” he said through gritted teeth, “and a real man wouldn’t need to put someone down like this to feel big.”

jay's fists clenched, his blood boiling at the blatant disrespect toward someone he cherished. he couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t just let it slide. his friend’s sick remarks and arrogant stance only spurred jay on until he couldn’t hold back anymore.

with a surge of anger, jay threw the first punch, connecting with his friend’s jaw. the impact left him stumbling, but he recovered, lashing back and landing a wild swing that split jay's lip. ignoring the pain, jay lunged forward, grabbing his friend by the collar and slamming him into the wall, “if I ever hear you talk about her again, i’ll fucking kill you. understood?”

the friend, suddenly realizing the depth of jay’s anger, muttered, “alright… fine. i’m sorry. i went too far.”

jay stormed off, his mind racing as he headed straight for y/n's place. as he reached her apartment, he hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorbell. his face was bruised and bloodied, and he didn't want to scare her. but the door swung open before he could change his mind, and there she was, looking concerned and beautiful in her silk robe.

"jay, what happened?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

he tried to smile, but the pain from his split lip made it more of a grimace. "just a little disagreement with a friend."

y/n's eyes widened as she took in his battered appearance. "oh baby, come in! we need to get you cleaned up."

jay followed her inside, feeling a mix of shame and desire. he knew he had overreacted, but the thought of that guy disrespecting y/n had made his blood boil.

in the bathroom, y/n gently guided him to the sink, her touch soft and soothing. she ran a damp cloth over his face, wiping away the blood and grime. her fingers were gentle as she dabbed at the cut above his eyebrow, her breath warm against his skin.

"does it hurt?" she asked, her voice low and concerned.

"not as much as my pride," jay replied, his voice hoarse with emotion.

y/n's eyes locked with his, and in that moment, something shifted between them. she could see the hurt and anger in his eyes, but also a raw, primal desire. her heart raced as she realized the effect she had on him.

"you fought for me," she whispered, her voice laced with a mixture of awe and arousal.

jay nodded, unable to speak as the emotions overwhelmed him. he had always been the protective type, but this was different. the thought of someone sexualizing y/n had sent him into a blind rage.

y/n's fingers trailed down his jaw, her touch electric as she caressed his bruised face.

"you're so beautiful when you're angry," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.

jay shivered at her touch, his body responding to her words. he had always been the dominant one in their relationship, but now, as she stood before him, her eyes burning with desire, he felt a surge of submission.

"y/n, i..." he began, but she placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

"shh," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "let me take care of you."

with that, she dropped to her knees before him, her hands sliding up his thighs, her touch sending shivers through his body. jay's breath caught in his throat as he felt her fingers brush against the bulge in his pants.

"i want to make you feel good," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire.

"let me show you how much i appreciate what you did for me."

jay groaned as she unbuttoned his jeans, his cock springing free, hard and throbbing. y/n's eyes widened at the sight of his thick, erect shaft, her lips parting in anticipation.

"you're so hard for me baby," she purred, her voice filled with satisfaction.

she leaned forward, her breath hot against the tip of his cock, and then she took him into her mouth, her lips sliding down his length. jay's eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure surged through his body. y/n's mouth was warm and wet, her tongue swirling around his sensitive head, driving him wild.

she sucked him with a passion he had never experienced before, her hands gripping his thighs as she took him deeper into her throat. jay's hands clenched into fists as he struggled to hold back his orgasm, wanting to prolong this moment of pure ecstasy.

"fuck, y/n," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. "your mouth feels so fucking good."

y/n moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him. she pulled back, her lips glistening with his precum, and looked up at him with a wicked smile.

"i want you to fuck my face," she whispered, her eyes daring him to take control.

jay's heart pounded as he realized she was giving him permission to be rough, to take what he wanted. he placed his hands on her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, and began to thrust gently at first, but soon the primal urge took over, and he was pounding into her mouth with abandon.

y/n's moans and gasps fueled his desire, her hands gripping his hips, urging him on. her tongue danced against his shaft, her lips tight around him, and he could feel her throat constricting around his cock as he plunged deeper.

"oh baby i'm gonna cum," he grunted, his body tensing as the orgasm built.

y/n's eyes flashed with excitement, and she pulled back, her hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking him in rhythm with her mouth. jay's body convulsed as he exploded, his cum shooting into her mouth, down her throat, and over her lips. she swallowed eagerly, sucking him dry, her eyes never leaving his.

as he caught his breath, y/n stood, her body flushed and her lips glistening with his release. she pressed herself against him, her breasts pressing into his chest, and kissed him deeply, sharing the taste of his cum.

"i love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "i love you too, ready for round two?”

jay will bleed for u if u like/comment/reblog!

perm taglist - @ancnymcnzjy @june19190 @wiccangirl29 @shjsnjkj @who-tf-soddhi

©honeybelleee on tumblr!

[usedpidemo]

Getting closer (Kang Hyewon)

“All I’m saying is—” Hyewon looks away, drink in hand, taking a little sip, calm and alluring as ever, “if you only want to see me naked, then you could have just said so.”

You widely stare back, silent, indifferent—or at least pretend to be. It’s gotten you a fair amount of awards, after all. It’s not the slightest bit of convincing whatsoever.  

She laughs, softly, as if this was the expected outcome. “So I’m taking that as an admission.” 

Setting down the near-empty wine glass on the bathroom sink, Hyewon attempts to walk away, only to be stopped by a sudden pull. Your hand appears tightly wrapped around her dainty wrist, unwilling to let go. Your eyes aimlessly wander up and down the empty void that is her black dress. There are hardly any thoughts behind that predictably empty head of yours, only the simplest of desires.

You catch the subtlest grin forming on her saccharine lips. You fucking hate how she makes you feel. How she makes your heart race with every exchange.

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you wish you got to know her better.

—————

The last year and a half of your career has mostly centered around one thing, or in this case, one person: Kang Hyewon. There’s also this drama starring your pairing as co-leads, and you’ve been promoting together, but your names make up more of the headlines than the very show. Your names are synonymously tied together akin to an actual couple.

Unsurprisingly, Hyewon is damn gorgeous. It’s how she’s getting the calls to begin with. Another one of those former singers turned actors looking to be taken seriously within the larger entertainment industry. Most never make it past their first project and fall back on their old careers, with some completely flaming out of the spotlight altogether. She’s an exception. A minor part here, a supporting cameo there—until she’s more than pleasant eye candy. A starlet who knows how to pick what roles would showcase her talents the most. 

She’s the perfect blend of beauty goddess and hotshot young star that the internet can get behind.

So it comes as a surprise when she’s casted as second fiddle to you, the first billing—and everyone comes away talking about her more. The scene stealer. 

(This plucky rival agent, investigating a case your character has been trailing for years, barely scraping by with the thinnest of clues, only for her to uncover the mystery only days after starting the investigation. The writing screams Mary Sue, but she acts convincing and vulnerable enough to escape the scathing think pieces that’s commonly associated with such characters. Not to mention: you both look damn good together on screen and during your public appearances.

It’s a team that sailed a thousand ships—both for your characters and in the real world.)

The consummate professional you are, you don’t think much of it. Your filming experience can only be described as businesslike. Except for the scenes where you’re together on screen, you’ve been separated at arms’ length, only exchanging words between takes to keep any further relationship from developing. It’s only during the press tour where you’ve finally gotten somewhat close.

Perhaps a little too close for comfort. Enough to make video compilations by overzealous fans who think you and Hyewon are really an item. The evidence is everywhere—in interviews, behind the scenes content, and on both your Instagram pages. At least, that’s what they want to believe. Everyone else brushes it off as two hot people being hot together, and not much else.

Here’s the thing: you love Hyewon—that much is true. The question now is: does she love you back?

Thankfully, your duo doesn’t get in the way of the show being lauded, despite making up a majority of its fandom. Positive reviews from both critics and viewers, especially in regards to your chemistry. The connection between you two is one in a million, something that can’t be built over years and years of working together. It also helps your performances sell the dynamic incredibly well—well enough to create those delusional shippers that form the bedrock of your partnership. 

Your names were positioned to go far during awards season. Not the consensus top pick, but as dark horse contenders to steal one every now and then. And while you both won your fair share of accolades, neither of you ended up walking away with the top prize. The conversation during the final ceremony of the year consisted primarily of the media and viewers talking about how your appearances together these last few months—and how you’re a match made in heaven. 

Everyone’s gonna miss this pairing—and so will you.

Now you’re back at square one. Having snuck away from the afterparty currently celebrating the dozen or so awards your show won earlier tonight, you’ve brought Hyewon back to your hotel room. Neither of you cared once you both lost your respective categories. The pundits thought you each only had the slimmest of odds to win, so why bother. Hell, you were both itching to leave as soon as the red carpet concluded. 

It’s all behind you now. You’re finally free from the glitz, glamor, and chaos of these vanity ceremonies and can really focus on what really matters—the pretty girl that you most likely won’t be seeing starring tomorrow. Your careers and interests couldn’t be any further apart: your main focus is movies, while hers are dramas. Both of you remain booked and busy for the next few years with different projects, with not a single one reuniting you two for the foreseeable future.

Back to Hyewon. She’s looking down at her wrist, tightly held by your hand. She allows it. You can feel her pulse. You sense that your hearts are racing in unison, tense and anxious.

“Are you gonna do something?” she questions, daring you to pull the trigger. She knows something you don’t—or maybe you do. You’re blinded by fear to realize it. “The night is fleeting. If not now, then when?”

Her words ring through your head. 

If not now, then when?

The same five words, ordered in the exact same way—etched in tiny letters on her skin.

You still remember everything—frame by frame, down to the last details. On screen, it’s implied. In your mind, it canonically happened. She took her shirt off, exposing herself and the scars of battle, and you were gonna go there. In your characters’ supposed words, ‘Clean’’ in your own unique way.

It was ultimately never shot. Bare minimum of fanservice and completely unnecessary, the director said. 

The tattoo sticks out, not only because of how it's deeply embedded on her otherwise pristine, lithe figure, but also because it represents the last 18 months of your career.

During this period, there are a lot of things that you’ve regret—and will regret. The fact you’ve kept contact with her during filming at a minimum, keeping your interactions strictly between takes and creating a negative air around you in her eyes. The fact it took you so long to exchange numbers, only getting it done during the press tour. The fact that you never return her messages when she constantly reaches out to you, whether through text or on your Instagram. The fact you haven’t thanked her enough times during your acceptance speeches, even when you mention her name in almost every other sentence. If there’s anything you want to admit, it’s that Hyewon is everything.

Most importantly, the fact that you fucking love her, to the point where you’d yearn moments when you’re not beside her—and you still lack the will to confess to her. Even right now. When she’s right at your fingertips.

Perhaps she knows this. The signs were there all along. How she often posts your red carpet photos together and tags you in them. How she also mentions you as much during her acceptance speeches and credits you as a reason for her improvements in acting, even referencing specific advice you’ve given her. The biggest hint, however, are the dresses she’s been wearing to these galas, most evident being tonight. Simple all black, tailor made for her frame, showing off her assets for flaunting to the cameras. 

Earlier, she led you to an empty part of the theater to say something in private. “I wore this just for you,” she said—and from that point, you had to get her alone, whatever it takes.

Really, Hyewon has no intention to leave tonight. She’s just waiting for those magic words. There’s no other logical reason for her to be here, other than for you.

She might as well be holding up a huge signpost with all her requests written in capital letters. 

“If you’re not gonna do anything,” she says, tone casual, slipping one strap of her dress down her shoulder, the one half of the fabric dropping a fair amount. “Then I might as well do it myself. I was hoping you’d take this off me—”

“Stop.” 

You grab her other hand, close to touching the other strap, the dress more than ready to fall down. She raises her eyebrows in amusement. Afterward, she puts the seized hand down, convincing you to release the grip. 

Another win for Hyewon. You’ve lost count as to how many times she’s been messing with you throughout awards season. Probably in the hundreds. Thousands if you count the interviews and little jabs during her speeches. Every mention of your name is an immediate sign of trouble. You can sense she’s enjoying every single moment, relishing the remaining time you have left. Meanwhile, it’s clear on your face that you’re stressed. 

But for what?

“If it hasn’t gotten through your thick skull, then I have no choice but to explain it.” Hyewon climbs atop the bathroom sink, strong enough to lift herself off the ground. She pours the glass with new wine; it’s not meant for you. Her attitude flips instantaneously like a switch, composed and readying herself as if it were another photoshoot. 

Taking a sip of the drink, she pours the rest all over her dress. It serves no purpose anymore. it’s undeniable that she knows what she’s doing. That elegant yet cocky smile is permanently seared into your brain. Someone this haughty shouldn’t be this beautiful and seductive. “You can stand there and waste the night away, or you can do something about it. All up to you.”

You can only sigh. Whether out of wistfulness or annoyance is up for interpretation. You can add taking her back to your hotel room and taking this role in your ever growing list of regrets. When it’s all said and done, it’ll definitely be as long as the career documentary they’ll make about you in 50 years.

What more do you have to lose? 

This will all be behind you soon enough.

You finally stop giving her the cold shoulder. “God, I really wish you weren’t such a tease,” you remark, pulling on the dress strap she previously slid down. “Because otherwise, it would have been so much easier.”

Hyewon seems to have taken your words seriously, because she suddenly kisses you—as in, relentlessly smothers you. Her arms wrap around your neck, slowly pulling you close into an embrace. She smells of alcohol and perfume. An unusual concoction that you can drown yourself in.

“Only if you say the magic word,” she says, gently laughing between kisses. The lower half of your face is full of pale lipstick marks. It was foolish to think she had turned a new leaf, knowing how intentional Hyewon can be with everything.

You’ve really got no other choice.

“I love you,” you confess, but in the smallest audible voice imaginable—hiding that reluctance behind your tone. 

Hyewon pulls herself back, smiling toothily at you, borderline snorting. Her expressions convey the idea that you told her a joke, which it may as well be. 

“That’s it? Doesn’t sound like someone who loves me,” she remarks, tone evidently disparaging.

“Fuck me.” The groan comes out instinctively, as if this wasn’t your first time getting burned like this. Your head is raised to the ceiling, asking the gods for an out.

“That’s my line,” she spouts, her response almost as instantaneous. Wit comes naturally to Hyewon. The countless viewers and interviewers who’ve laughed can speak on her behalf.

“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” you ask, knowing you’ve willingly fallen for the easiest bait in the entire world.

“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” she repeats, mockingly imitating your voice, much to your utter chagrin. This isn’t part of some romcom or a sketch. This is real. Everything comes back around to Hyewon. She laughs—basks in your suffering.

It’s the kind of trait that would leave you second guessing whether you really love her or not. As it turns out, the public loves celebrities with a playful sense of humor. Not even you are innocent—you’ve been caught red-handed on camera a few times. Hyewon doesn’t need to reaffirm herself.

But she would love to hear it straight from the source.

“Say it. Say it.” Hyewon is urging you—demanding you—as if it were a matter of life or death. Her hands are everywhere, gripping you by the cheek and the throat like her prized possessions, threatening to choke the life out of you. 

Truthfully, this was coming the moment she stepped through those doors for the first table read. Hyewon’s gravity is inescapable.

“Love you—Hyem, please—” 

Struggling to push back against her hold, you can tell that she’s taking pleasure in every moment she has you like this: wrapped around her finger, so whipped over her that it’s alarming. There’s little use in trying to be coy or subtle. If she wanted you to go down to the afterparty in nothing but your boxers, you’d fold in a heartbeat. She’s the kind of girl you’d happily end up in a scandal with, someone you’d throw your career away in exchange for one timeless night, against the advice of everyone who knows better.

She knows this too. Look at the coy grin spreading on her face. A smile perfect for the front cover of any magazine or commercial. It’s the perfect facade for the attitude hiding beneath.

“I love you Hyem,” you repeat, showing a bit more desperation and sincerity this time. You’re breathing against her neck, the idea of pressing your lips against her skin a dire need. It’s unfortunate you can’t make it look like an accident—as is the idea of your bodies sinking down on the bathroom countertop. “For the longest time, I wanted you, but—”

Only now do you come to the simplest realization: there are no accidents.

Normally, you should feel some shame for being this oblivious. How a girl like Hyewon is giving out all these hints, to the point where she might as well be spreading her legs wide and pointing down at her cunt with a colorful sign. Hell, a thigh is peeking through her dress, pressing on your leg right now. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about working with other actors, it’s that chemistry comes naturally—it can’t be taught.

And your bodies are doing exactly that. The friction between you can’t be any more tense.

“Then show me.” She sighs against your ear, pulling on the topmost button of your suit, pushing down the matching coat. Her leg extends around your limb, goading you to pull away, even though leaving the pretty sight right in front of you is the last thing on your mind. 

You can only breathe. Slow. Hesitant. There's not a lot of hours left, and you’re wasting more by taking your sweet time—resting your gaze on her pale shoulder, admiring all the little details. In essence, you’re doing the complete opposite of what Hyewon wants. She’s showing a little frustration, proving how much better of an actress she is than you. Imagine being in her shoes, beckoning to someone astronomically unaware for months. So much energy and effort could have been saved if she chose to leave you out to dry. If you weren’t so preoccupied with thoughts of her, the many ways this little scene can go, you’d be wondering why she’s this persistent. 

Maybe you’re just as important of a character in her story too, or you’re both stubborn in your own ways. Perhaps both.

None of that is your concern right now. You’re cupping Hyewon’s face, kissing her, nibbling down on her creamy skin, reaching up to her lips by the way of her neck, pulling on the strap of her dress little by little. In response, she’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear, removing your dress shirt one button at a time. It feels like you’re going through the motions, acting under the words of an intimacy coordinator and a director. Slowly but surely, it’s all coming together, until—

“Stop.” 

You pull back, noticing your shirt is nearly undone as you look past her and at the mirror. Both dress straps are halfway down her arms, the fabric a mess, waiting to be swept away. 

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “What’s up?” 

Hyewon tilts her head at an angle, unsatisfied. She’s staring at you intently, taking a moment to analyze you like you’re a problem to solve—which you are—before coming to a rather alarming conclusion. “You don’t seem like you want me that bad.”

The remark doesn’t register in your brain. “What do you mean—”

She yanks you forward for a deep kiss, cutting you off. Reciprocating her passion comes naturally—and so does everything else. The movement of your hands, taking lease of her back, tearing through the fabric of her dress, coming back to her cheeks, until you stop feeling cloth and register more flesh. Feeling her skin becomes your new addiction, something you can’t get enough of. 

Watching her other movies—for research purposes—you knew she was well endowed, even when they were not on full display.  Some of her previous gala dresses truly put a spotlight on her cleavage. Part of you thought it was editing trickery, a perfectly taken photo at the right time, or a bra doing the heavy lifting. All three even. But holding them now, with nothing in between, you simply couldn’t believe how well they’ve been hidden from you. 

Her tits fold, go flush, and her nipples stiffen at your touch. They feel so right—as if they were handmade for you.

“God, Hyem—” you breathe out, savoring the sensation of her mounds in your clasp, unwilling to let go. Her taut nipples jerk with every run of your palms. If only you could rest your head between them, but your current position won’t allow you. 

“They feel so good right?” Hyewon moans in response, shedding your unbuttoned shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor, taking lease of your muscles and back. Her dress bunches up around her waist, practically collapsing when she decides to get up from the sink. Although an expected outcome, you’re both surprised that you’ve managed to get each other’s clothes off.

And you’re only getting started.

Pushing you away, Hyewon meets you at your level. Gravity does the rest. She stands before you in nothing but heels. What a mental image to remember her after tonight. She leaves you frozen and trembling, jaw agape, your eyes in a daze, unable to find a place to settle your fleeting gaze on—until she rests her hands around your shoulders. You’re caught up in your own disbelief to meet her lovely gaze and that rather sweet smile, quite the difference from her bare state.

She lifts up a leg, pushing herself onto you for another passionate kiss. Taking advantage, her legs eventually wrap around your waist, bearing all her weight on your grasp. Despite her surprise attack, she’s feathery enough to carry around. It certainly helps that she’s not the heaviest girl you’ve lifted before; you have some experience—mostly unpleasant and usually backbreaking. Still, you’ll treat her like some delicate object that crumbles at the slightest touch. Something—or someone—you can’t ruin, or else you’d be ruined too.

You both end up in the living room, deeply engrossed in a fiery passion that’s too hot for cameras. Lifting her high, your lips find their way to her chest, pressing them in the place where they rightfully belong. Hyewon is stubborn, pushing your head further up to meet your lips in a direct, frantic kiss. Back and forth, you take turns between her tits and her lips, unintentionally slamming her against a wall, eliciting a few yelps out of her. 

It doesn’t bother you both in the slightest. You hold her there, kissing down her abdomen and ribs, coming to the tiny inked part of her figure. The same tattoo that’s been ingrained in your head since you first saw them.

You mutter the very words against her skin. 

“If not now, then when.”

They’ve never been so relevant till right now. You softly kiss the ink, silently thanking her for saving you from a lifetime’s worth of regret.

Hyewon winces, throws her head back, moans up to the ceiling. Her nails brush through your hair, then claw at your nape as you remain fixated on her tattooed rib. She deserves to be adored and worshiped.

“Look at me babe,” she murmurs, gently tilting you up, faint at your touch. Against your desires, you follow. “Put me down. You know why I’m here.”

You oblige without a second thought—and you’re both on a level playing field again.

Still, you can’t help but kiss her right after. She reciprocates the favor. You’re a perfect match. Even as you’re making out, you’re thinking of ways to get messy and get the jump on her while she’s preoccupied. 

It ends up being your biggest mistake.

Both of you wrestle for control over the other, a scuffle that ends up knocking down a few appliances and tableware. The sound of glass shattering rips through the hotel room floor louder than your collective moans ever will. For someone with a lithe figure, Hyewon proves to be much stronger than you were led to believe. It shows when you try to push her onto another table; you both end up crashing to the floor seconds later. 

From there, it’s whoever is the first to get up, and you knew it was all over from there.

Hyewon leads you into the sole bedroom, shoving you onto the mattress. Unrelenting, she slams onto you right after, pinning you down with her bare hands. Surprising her with your own strength, you reach for her raven locks through her ironclad grip of your wrists. Your lips continue to crash like waves against rocks, neither of you willing to back down. There’s a clear disparity between you: she wants you more.

To further prove her point, she presses her palms down on your chest, sitting over you upright, straddled on your lap. She’s never looked better.

Making quick work of your trousers, your cock is freed from its confines, only to be immediately caught up in Hyewon’s hand. Her grip spreads through your groin, turning breathing into an absolute nightmare. The one fear that’s been haunting your mind these last few months, finally realized. 

And it’s staring you down with an innocent yet wicked smile.

“You have no idea how long I wanted this,” she remarks, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine. Arching down, she presses her tongue forward on your throbbing tip. Combined with the pressure she’s building with her hand, holes puncture through your lungs. And right on command, you’re leaking. She’s lapping your cock in circles, slow and agonizing, taking every little drop of precum seeping. You can only tremble beneath her, utterly defenseless. “Remembering when I was tapping your foot with my heel earlier tonight?”

She leaves you in such a dizzying spiral that you can’t even look directly at her, let alone formulate a reply. Meanwhile, her eyes remain fixed on you, doe-eyed with innocence, yet her actions are cruel. Breathing proves to be a struggle, let alone returning with a response. “What about it?”

“I wanted you to follow me to the bathroom. And I wanted you to fuck me in there.”

Honest to God, that was not the first thought on your mind. If anything, the presence of many proved to be the ideal shield in keeping yourself away from Hyewon. Losing best actor was the greatest blessing in disguise, as it meant you didn’t have to look straight into her magnetic eyes during your theoretical speech and make an embarrassment of yourself in front of hundreds in attendance, and millions watching on television. 

Now that you’re in bed with no way to escape, you can only accept your fate.

“I’m not the best at reading the room,” you comment, sheepishly shaking your head.

“Not surprising, honestly,” she says, rewarding your candor with a kiss—on your tip. Then another. More heartwarming than arousing, if anything. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a dork?”

“Not the first time I’ve heard it from a girl,” you say, in an attempt to show some wit, only to be met with a stiff grip on your cock. “Ah—fuck—”

A bit more force and Hyewon could break you in half with her mere hand alone. She’s cold, calculating, and cruel. Her expression seems apathetic, yet deep down, you can tell she’s having so much fun toying and teasing you, stealing what little semblance of willpower you have. And to think she’s this demure, sometimes funny celebrity with a certain image that’s universally admired by many. 

Behind that gaze, she’s thinking of more ways to further ruin you.

“I don’t think a dork like you has been with other girls,” she remarks, leaning forward to tease a kiss, only to leave you dry. “But looking at this cock—”

She stops to admire your shaft once more. Ultimately, she can’t help herself. She has to give your tip another ceremonious flick with her parched tongue in appreciation. Two, actually. If she doesn’t stop, you’ll soon be deep in her throat, and you know she’s not letting you go. Thankfully, she finally regains sight of what she wants in the first place.

Lifting herself ever so slightly, Hyewon takes a deep breath—then slowly melts into you. 

It’s a car crash you can’t look away from. It’s inevitable, but you’re completely powerless to stop her. You can only groan in agony as your bodies intertwine, creating a union that only she can break. Inch by inch, you helplessly watch as Hyewon slowly takes you into her suffocating heat. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: vicious, intense, and painful. 

It doesn’t help that she’s taking her sweet time, keeping you on edge for what may as well be an eternity, bracing for the certain explosion she’s going to leave in her wake. 

“Oh—fuck—it’s so perfect,” Hyewon throws her head back, her jaw dropping slow, every word delivered in a near-inaudible sigh. Eventually, she buries herself in you deep to the hilt—and she keens. “That—that’s it—that’s the fucking spot—”

Your hands cling to her waist, your maw similarly agape, breathing tensely as the pleasure slowly courses through your muscles. “God—you’re fucking tight—”

She hums in return, satisfied by your response, before losing herself in the sensation of your cock impaling her—and she begins to move.

As you fight the urge to cum right then and there, Hyewon slowly lifts herself off your lap, your cock reappearing with a fresh coat of her drenched pussy, before sinking back down. She rips the breath right from your lungs, while you’re forced to shut your eyes. Anything to keep your brain firing as the pleasure rushing throughout your body sends you into overdrive. 

You’re an outlet of ecstasy, a conduit for her to loosen all her pent-up frustration and lust. Her palms grip to your thighs, keeping you in place—as if you’re in any condition to move anywhere except for her whim. She’s crashing into you at a punishing pace as a result of keeping yourself away for so long. And she’s being open about it too: “Why did it take us so long—ugh—”

You can only moan back. Truthfully, you’re wondering the same thing too. 

As your eyes alternate between wide open and completely shut, you catch glimpses of Hyewon using every inch of you to fill her wanton pussy with cock. When she’s not cursing or screaming your name, her moans fill your ears with sweet, sultry music. It’s a sound not of her high class image. She’s riding you like it’s life or death, like her heart will stop beating if her cunt isn’t being stretched out.

With every bounce, so do her breasts. Up and down, settling into a rhythm, forming a hypnotic motion that your eyes get lost in. Your obsession reaches a point to where the movement of her tits stirs you on, reigniting your tired muscles. You can’t lie there and be a helpless viewer any longer.

And so, you meet Hyewon halfway, matching the grind of her hips with your thrust at the apex, setting her alight. This particular stroke. The hot sensation. It utterly shatters her. Her voice cracks. She trembles violently, giving you breathing room to sit upward and lean close to her chest. 

So while she staggers back, overwhelmed by your cock spearing her cunt, you go down on her succulent breasts, squishing your face between them. Despite having Hyewon’s body all to yourself, the friction between your bodies creates this wracking storm that drives you insane. It isn’t enough that you’re feasting on her tits, that her boobs are bouncing so hard it’s downright pornographic, and that she’s screaming her heart out in response to each stroke. This will be headline news tomorrow. Yet, none of that is your concern. You have to pour everything into her. It’s now or never.

“Fuck yes—oh fuck—fucking take me—fuck—” Hyewon’s riding your cock, forcing all the air out your lungs, rendering you speechless. Doesn’t matter, you’re drowning in her slick and her tits, pounding away with twice the effort. She’s swearing through her tongue like she’s a cop in a crime picture, biting down on her lip in a flimsy attempt to restrain herself, but anyone with a good ear nearby could have easily identified her voice through the four walls of this hotel room. Knowing her, it’s intentional. She’s determined to put you through a world of trouble, leaving you with no other choice but to shut her up.

And you’re going to do just that.

You end up yanking her by the waist as your bodies repeatedly collide with each other. Each impact the equivalent of a cosmic explosion, the aftermath echoing through the room. The sound of skin slapping skin fills your ears louder than what it seems in the movies. Sex with Hyewon is much, much better than in your fantasies. Here’s another thing that can’t be found on camera: her soft pleas begging you to keep going, interlaced between harsh whines and airy moans that can’t be faked.

“God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Hyewon.” There you go, your silly side showing at such a serious moment. Everyone knows you don’t proclaim your impending climax. Rookie mistake. You’re not shooting a porno, but you might as well be with how hard you’re fucking her. She can’t help but cackle even as you relentlessly pound into her cunt. What should be a moment of weakness immediately gets brushed aside as you hold her when she slams down, and you finally fall apart.

Impaling your cock hilt deep inside Hyewon, you’re digging your palms deep into her soft flesh, unwilling to let go. She rests her head beside yours as you blast her with thick, warm cum. Her prolonged, saccharine-sounding moan is nothing compared to the loaded groan that ripples through the room. The supplication she makes, demanding you to fill her with every little drop goes through deaf ears. Your dick seems to have heard it loud and clear, though. The amount you’re filling her is enough to rip through her body violently too. She follows with her own peak afterwards, hitting a previously unheard octave higher, your bodies finally melting into one. 

Just like that, she’s clinging to you like you’re her personal life support, completely drained of all her strength. 

The ecstasy lasts for a brief moment. The fall off happens too soon for your liking. Like her, you’re sapped of energy and you fall down to earth with Hyewon in your arms. The end comes—not with grandiose drama or spectacle, but by a calm, uneventful stir.

You should be done at this point. It’s been a long day. You’ve been up as early as sunrise, spent hours behind makeup and measuring tape for a suit you won’t wear more than once. Smiling comes natural, if not downright fake; in front of the cameras, on the red carpet, on screen, and even during the afterparties. Every time you step out in public, there’s an image, a reputation to uphold. You’ve done this a dozen times in the past few months alone, bearing a lifetime’s worth of and it never gets more comfortable or easier. It’s a miracle you haven’t cracked or had a public breakdown, even though your mind is calling for it.

And yet, all that labor and agony is worth it for what you have now. The awards, the recognition, the adoration—but most especially the girl. What are you now, taken out of a story. One that feels all too familiar and done to death, but it never grows old or tired. 

By all accounts, it should be a happy ending. 

Except you’re not done. You’re not satisfied, and so is Hyewon. Even though she’s settling down in your embrace, resting her head against your heartbeats, mumbling these sweet nothings about how much you’ve ruined her and fucked her to shreds, she’s quietly begging for more. It isn’t about keeping a sanctimonious image anymore; it’s about how far you’ll push her and use her. Your throbbing cock buried inside her cunt says it too.

If there’s anything you’ve learned about acting, it’s that one take isn’t enough.

Like a damsel in distress, you scoop Hyewon into your arms. Through what you might consider a second wind, you carry her into the bathroom again on wobbly legs, stepping into the shower, showing that you’re ready to take your relationship a step further. You’ll hash out the details in the morning—if she hasn’t left by then.

The sound of running water serves as background for the airy, lewd noises that quickly fill the shower. 

Hyewon feels incredibly soft to touch. Pliable in your grasp, like a doll to bend, twist, and use at your whim. You’re squeezing her flesh, fondling her mounds tightly till you’re seeing red everywhere. Her tits, her shapely ass, and everything in between. Kissing down her body, giving every little part its much needed attention. You’ve fucked her to pieces, yes, but she’s still housing a divine figure that deserves the same level of praise. 

With two fingers stroking at her cunt, she’s keening, her head tilted up to meet the relentless downpour rushing down over your bodies. Her voice is in tatters after an hour of tireless screaming, in addition to all the mindless chatter from earlier tonight. Part of you wishes to have taken up her offer. Something this good shouldn’t be kept secret, but you’re more than selfish enough to keep Hyewon all to yourself. 

Your raging impulse gets the better of you, and you slap her tits from behind. She yelps a cry of pain and pleasure. The recoil and sound activates something in your brain like a sleeper agent. You do it a second time, then a third. You stop counting after, indulging yourself in the satisfying noise of her mounds smacked over and over, every squeal, every strike equally as gratifying as your cock slamming into her pussy. She’s clinging to the walls as a respite, her body shuddering vigorously, but you don’t give her a moment to breathe. It’s what she would have wanted: to be used and taken like a ragdoll.

Hyewon screams again when you swing her around, lifting one leg around your waist, and slam your cock inside her. No pleasantries, no talking through the process—only a desire to fuck. Burying your face against her neck, growling into her skin like a ravenous beast, you hammer away without care for neither your comfort nor hers. You’re counting the hours, minutes, seconds before she disappears from your life, and you’re gonna make sure that years from now, she remembers this night in particular.

You’re too engrossed to see her expressions twist in impossible ways that average humans can make. But that’s the point: Hyewon is no ordinary person. She’s one actress, something that can be found in others who are more talented and have more resounding qualities, but more than that, to you, she’s everything. The clench of her cunt on your cock continues to invigorate you and push you further. With every thrust, she jumps and sends aftershocks coursing through your veins. God, you love how incredibly well she fucking takes it, and the slightest tilt of her lips struggling to form a grin reinforce this. You’ve got nothing else to say, really; you easily lose yourself in your own lust, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It doesn’t take too long before you feel it again. The end. It’s approaching faster than you can react. You knew it wasn’t going to be a drawn out affair, but you’re so desperate to reach that high, no matter how brief it may be. It was too good to pass up, and you’re beyond waiting a second more.

You’d give everything up for even a single minute longer, but the period of bargaining has long passed you by.

“Gonna cum again—fuck—” is all you can muster, your first words after a long while. Her pussy feels so good to form coherent words. Lust has utterly consumed your brain more than anything. The entire time, Hyewon’s mewling, keening in every direction, trying to find purchase on the walls or the shower door, only to fall a few inches short. She ends up coming back to you, hanging on for dear life. You’ve never let up, terrified that she’ll magically disappear into nothing at any second. 

Acting fast, as if you’ve got a ticking bomb in hand, you draw your cock out, coated in a thick sheen of your own cum and hers, pumping yourself with a few strokes of your hand until you finally explode. The shower washes down the milky white blot you’re unloading on her skin, never leaving a permanent mark. It does, however, bring you back to the place that began your undoing.

The tattoo on her rib. 

Water wipes the cum blocking the view. Despite those same five words occupying your mind for the last few hours, it still hits like a fresh revelation. You hear her voice repeating them inside your head as you come to your senses, your lust being satiated—for now. Even when Hyewon is completely broken before you, reduced to a quiet pile of flesh. One hand on the surrounding wall, the other in limbo, her leg still coiled around your waist, forcing oxygen into her tired lungs wherever she can. 

With the ‘quick’ shower done, and after hardly any cleaning was made, you carry her back to the bedroom. 

You don’t even make it past the living room before your legs finally give up. You end up crashing onto the floor together before you both finally call it a night.

—————

“This is your fault you know,” says Hyewon, drawing circles on your chest, over your calm heartbeats. “I’m supposed to be in London tomorrow for my table read. And yet I’m still here. My flight was five hours ago by the way.”

It’s already high noon when you finally regain consciousness, your head still spinning despite not taking more than one alcoholic drink the night before. Hyewon’s doing marginally better, having woken up 30 minutes earlier. No wonder it feels so hot; her body is snuggled up on you, your limbs tangled. Despite the urgency she’s speaking about, she doesn’t seem to be interested in moving any time soon.

At least you’re awake and sensible enough to fire back. “Who’s fault is that? I wasn’t the one inviting you to come over and have you fucked senseless.”

She chuckles into your skin, little ripples forming where her lips are gently pressed. “And I wasn’t the one who spent the last 18 months saying we’re just friends.”

You’re already lying flat on the floor, but the rebuttal only makes you want to get up only to fall back down. So you settle with an expressive sigh. 

Hyewon laughs. It’s what won over millions, including you. You’re taken back to that fateful day you first met. Right then and there, you knew there’d be no one else like her. If given an opportunity to go back and change a few things here and there or, you’d do it over again, mistakes included. Last night was worth all the waiting and teasing. 

“So—about that show,” you lean up, pushing her closer to your face, “What was it again? Something about you being a nymphomaniac? Delete what?”

“You mean Delete This? Let’s not.” 

Mention of the premise alone is enough to set her gummy cheeks on fire. For someone whose career has been built up on mostly more general audience friendly programming, leading a sexual soap opera is quite the jump.  

She buries her head on your neck, embarrassed, feeling guilty. “Yeah. I mean, last night was—different, you know? I’ve shown my tits and body already, but I’ve never had sex—on screen before.”

You should have known. She needed a reason to get in your pants without your working relationship only centering around your bodies. And those were clearly stand-ins based on how her face is never shown during her older scenes.

“Jesus, Hyem. If you wanted to have sex, you could have asked anytime. You have no idea how annoyed I was when they scrapped our scene last minute. It was only you taking off your shirt too.”

“On the bright side, we didn’t have an intimacy director getting in the way, right?”

She does have a point. Still, your personal cold war didn’t need to last 18 months before either of you would make the first move.

But with all that tension a thing of the past, the chains are unfettered. Now both of you have the ability to take this little secret in any direction you desire. You could simply be a workplace couple; it’s been the story of your year so far. Or you could take things a step further. The possibilities are truly endless.

Hyewon’s cheeky grin slowly reforms, her hand snaking up to cup your cheek. “Shame we only had one night. I could spend the rest of the day here, but—” she huffs, “I’m running late. Too bad I won’t get to have this cock for a long, long time.”

You lift an amused eyebrow, barely able to keep your new cockiness from showing. “Will you, though?”

She’s taken completely by surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Check your phone.”

After rising to her feet, Hyewon walks over to the console table where her purse is set. Fishing her phone from the handbag, she scrolls through the apps, her attention di–vided between the screen and you on the floor, finally getting up as well. 

Her stare then lingers on the phone, as if whatever headline of the day has caught her attention. 

Next thing you know, she’s grabbing you by the chest, dragging you back to the bedroom before shoving you back onto the mattress—right where you belong. Pinning you down and dead to rights, Hyewon mounts herself on your lap, your cock pressed against her aching core, ready to receive a fresh beating.

Some jokes can go a little too far.

“You fucking asshole. You mean that—”

“Yep.”

“And it’s not—”

“It’s not.”

You can feel her hips slowly grinding against yours. You’re gonna love—and hate—the next 18 months with Hyewon.

“I’m going to kill you. And I mean: kill you.”

“No better way to go out.”

—————

(A/N: Thank you for the commission! That Hyewon dress is so ripe for material, and I had to incorporate her tattoos into it somehow. She doesn't show them quite often—heck, she hasn't publicly addressed them even once, I believe. That little nod at the end is for everyone still waiting for Delete this to return. At this point, a reimagining or remake must happen first before the next actual episode because good God my writing back then versus now is night & day. Even comparing the last update from 2022(?) to today is also radically different in style. I'm still interested in reviving it; it's just a matter of when, not if. Thank you for reading!)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse 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: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

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 ❤️

Photo Inspo

“Come on, doll,” Barnes takes your hand and leads you across the room. You follow as you will for the rest of your life; obediently. 

His grip is like a vice as he guides you through the hall and down the stairs. Silence meets you at the bottom as your sisters no doubt hear the descent. Yet he doesn’t let you go nor make a move to leave. Instead, he brings you into the front room. 

He squeezes your hand, pressing the large ring into your finger, and releases you. He steps forward as Kitty turns away from the window and Adrienne stands from the sofa. He commands any room he enters and you don’t think you’ll ever be used to that. 

“Sisters,” he declares brightly, “that is what I will call you from now on.” 

He goes first to Kitty and places a kiss on her cheek, then does the same to Adrienne. Each watch him in confusion. You stare blankly. 

“And you can call me brother and ask for anything and everything you need,” he says. 

“Sir,” Kitty moves towards your younger sister. 

“I ask discretion for the time being as I tie up a few loose ends,” Barnes explains. “And we get you all settled where you need to be.” 

Your sisters blink at you then each other. You can’t say it out loud. That makes it real. 

Barnes turns on his heel, “speaking of loose ends, I should go.” 

He comes towards you and takes your hand again. He raises it, certain to show off the glaring diamond, and kisses it. The gesture makes your blood run cold. It is a statement. It isn’t the same as when you kiss his ring, it isn’t deference, no it is a show of ownership. 

“Have a good night,” you say at last. 

He pulls back and lowers your hand. He grins, “it’s already spectacular, doll.” 

He lets you go and steps past you. You stand, stuck in place, as he leaves. The door opens and closes, the hinges jarring you into motion. You go to lock it behind him and Kitty calls your name. 

“What’s going on?” She appears in the doorway. 

You take a breath before you face her. You shrug. Adrienne scrambles around her and snatches your hand. 

“Oh my god, it’s huge.” 

“Stop,” you try to tug your hand back. 

“You’re marrying him?” Kitty’s voice deflates by the last syllable. “Why?” 

You look between them. You can tell one sliver of the truth. “To keep us safe.” 

“Us? We’ll be fine. Barnes says we get an inheritance, we get houses, money--” 

“And then what? It’s not enough to last forever,” you argue. “Even if we can find work, we’ll never make enough to keep that. How long did you work at the yogurt shop before daddy threatened to burn it down? And I have about a week’s experience down at the diner.” 

“We can start now--” 

“We can start now and never reach the finish line,” you insist. “Kitty, you know who daddy was. You sat there and watched what they did to that man today. This isn’t a life you walk away from, even if he’s dead.” 

Adrienne sniffles. She’s on the edge of tears again. 

“So, you do it over? Marry another one? Go through it again?” Kitty challenges. 

“He can make sure that neither of you have to--” 

“We don’t need you to be our martyr,” Kitty argues. 

“I’m not--” you seal your lips and sigh. You wish you could tell her. You wish you could say I shot that fuck and he deserved it because you know she would have loved to do the same thing. Yet, saying it out loud means admitting that you’re all trapped for that moment of vengeance. “Kitty, how much choice do you think he gave me?” 

She stares at you. She knows exactly how it works. There is no asking with these men. 

“We could all go. Disappear.” 

“And they wouldn’t find us? How far could we get, really?” 

“Not far,” Adrienne pipes in. “Kitty, would you rather daddy still be here?” 

Your older sister is silent as her jaw squares. 

“I could marry instead. Maybe not Barnes but someone else. It shouldn’t be you. I’m the oldest--” 

“It is me,” you say, “and it could be any one of us but this is how it is. It’s... not the worst.” 

“It’s not?” Kitty says. “That man stood and ordered another beaten to death. He didn’t flinch.” 

“I know,” you say. 

“No, you don’t know,” Kitty insists, “you can’t be sure that he isn’t like daddy.” 

She’s right. Barnes might have helped vanquish the monster but it can’t erase his own misdeeds. Yet, you asked for all of this. You went there in the middle of the night and sold your soul. You could excuse yourself with naivete, but you deserve more to be branded by it. 

“If it keeps you two from men like daddy--” 

“Stop,” Kitty grabs you by the shoulders. “None of us deserve it.” 

“You stop,” you wrap your fingers calmly around her forearms and peel her hold off of you. “Should I go hand that man his ring back or do you want do it for me?” 

She untangles her wrists from your grasp and recoils. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes up against the threat of tears. She stamps her foot in frustration. 

“You tell me,” she points her finger at you. You’re almost stunned by the fire in her voice and face. Kitty is the sweet one, she’s gentle, but she has your mother’s quiet strength. “You tell me if he ever puts a bruise on you. You fucking tell me.” 

“Kitty,” you murmur. 

Adrienne covers her mouth and watches, swept up in the fraught emotion of it all. 

“No, because I spent a lifetime watching you two cry over that beast we called a father,” she snarls. “I will not waste the rest of my life doing the same. I thought—I thought we were free. I wanted us to be free.” She curls her lip and exhales heavily. “So, you will not lie to me again. And I will know. I will see right through him so you don’t even try to cover it up. One bruise...” she wags her finger then throw up both her hands with a frustrated growl. “I sound like him.” She turns and drags her feet to the stairs. She sits on one and hangs her head. “I sound like daddy. I’m just so... tired.” 

You look at Adrienne and reach for her. She gives you her hand. You bring her over to Kitty and touch your elder sister’s shoulder. She looks up through sparkling eyes. 

“You will know. We will all know. We are sisters and this doesn’t change that,” you say. “We stick together, no matter what.” 

“Oh, we will,” Kitty insists, “I will be at your damn house every day and I will look at that man and I will see all the cracks. Trust me you. He will not take you from us.” 

“Kitty, Ade,” you look from one to the other, “no one can take us from each other. If daddy did one thing, it was making sure of that.” 

[hongjoongspoetry]

A Love Written in Gold

Part 1 — The Grand Debut

🦢 Summary: Dearest gentle readers, the much-anticipated season of debutantes has finally graced us, casting a spell of delightful nerves among our young ladies poised to conquer the glittering heights of society. As is tradition, a diamond amongst them has been selected to dazzle—oh, which lucky charm shall it be this year? Amidst a flurry of introductions and grand soirèes, let it be noted that the inaugural ball shall be hosted by the illustrious His Grace, the Duke of Beaumonte. But pray tell, who are those most peculiar gentlemen drawing all eyes with their striking features? And what delightful mischief lies in wait for the debutante of the Jeong Household and her charming commoner, behind the discreetly shut doors of the music room?

🦢 Pairing(s): Proletarian!Hongjoong x Noble!Reader, Duke!Seonghwa x Noble!Reader

🦢 Genres/Tropes: Bridgerton AU, Regency era, forbidden love

🦢 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), female reader, sexism, mentioned classism, explicit language, overprotective!Yunho, wholesome family dynamics, slight angst

🦢 Wordcount: 14.8K

🦢 Author's Note: Welcome to my second series!! Whi-hoooooo! I've been wanting to write a Bridgerton AU since s3 came out and what better than to make it a Hongjoong series. It was about time I did something for my bias lmaoo. Anyway, the tags are a bit vague and I'll update them as the chapters come out, so check them out with each update. A little fun thing I did. There are a few 🎼 emojis spread through out the chapter with songs I thought were fitting to the scenes, so if you want, listen while reading :) The following songs are in order:

Young and Beautiful, Vitamin String Quartet | We Are Young, Vitamin String Quartet | Positions, Jeremy Green | Chopin: Waltz No. 19 in A minor, Op. posth.

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Permanent taglist

Winter prepared for its departure as spring eagerly waited by the door, a green blanket in hand and pockets full of overgrowing flowers. She was more than ready to wrap the world in a warm hug of vivid colors and greenery. Many ladies got ready for their first active participation in the social season, giving their parents, maids and butlers a handful of things to fret over. In one of the most respectable households of the ton, the Jeongs were arranging everything for their youngest to make her appearance in society as a débutante and help her search for the perfect eligible man.

“We must hurry! The carriages are outside,” Wooyoung announced and raked his hand through his combed hair, making it appear messy as if just risen out of bed.

Although being the second born of the late Viscount and Viscountess Jeong and possessing no title to his name, Wooyoung still dressed the part of an aristocrat. His double-breasted vest was a white creme color with a tad bit brighter dress shirt beneath, the light colors contrasted his dark features and he stood out as a star in a pitch black sky. A matching neck scarf rested around his neck and he occasionally tugged at it, complaining of the itchy and suffocating material that no one dared to alter, courtesy of it being his mother’s choice. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of black trousers, showcasing his glutes and muscles. The black tailcoat was yet to be worn, but he had no doubts it would hug his body in a delicate way to display his slim waist and make up for his lack of height. 

Granted Wooyoung was not seeking a lady to wed, he would still arrive to gatherings wearing expensive pieces of clothing and jewelry and a dazzling smile that would make even the stubbornest of ladies swoon. Much as last year’s social season, Wooyoung planned on greeting the pretty debutants with a kiss to the back of their hands and — if feeling frisky — asking to sign their dance cards with a glint of mischief in his truffle colored eyes. 

“Then someone should hasten our lovely sister, do you not agree, Brother?” Yunho, the current viscount and head of the household, suggested. 

Unlike Wooyoung, Yunho was wearing darker schemes besides his white shirt and the pretty silver patterns on his thick vest. His tailcoat was darker than coal, but soft as feathers, made out of a velvet fabric indigent people had never set eyes on, much less dreamed of. The black scarf was neatly tucked beneath his vest and the elder showed no signs of irritation, he looked rather content and relaxed on the plush couch in the living room. Yunho’s long legs were decorated with black pants and extravagant leather boots reaching up to his knees. 

The Jeong brothers did not look alike, from their varying facial characteristics to the height difference, anyone not aware of them sharing blood — they would be foolish not to know — would not believe they were nurtured by the same father and mother. 

“What a splendid proposition, Brother, however, I do have to say she is far more civil in your company.”

“Stop speaking of your sister in that way,” their mother, Dowager Viscountess Ireum Lee, chastised and gently ran her palm along her beautiful pistachio green gown. 

At first glance, the woman seemed to be a very serious and strict lady. Some even dared to compare her to a sly fox. Looking into her sharp and dark eyes would be the equivalent of staring into a void hole—dark, empty and cold. Her neatly braided, black hair and red-tainted lips were vivid against her bright complexion, and she was always shielded from the sun whether it was under an umbrella or a great tree. Despite her resting facade — claiming to be missing that motherly warmth newborns would yearn for — she could light up a room with her bright smile and soft-turned eyes. Her beauty was truly unmatched and no amount of makeup could make the other mamas appear nearly as pretty. It was no secret both Yunho and Wooyoung acquired their looks from her. Yunho with his cupid bow lip and Wooyoung’s wide cheekbones and sharp jaw. 

“Although it is true we do not have time to idle. Let us fetch your sister.” The brothers followed their mother as ducklings padded after a hen, with haste and no further questions asked.

“Is she still not ready?” Yunho asked as the trio stopped before a great white opening, both of the doors closed and some shuffling noises coming from inside the youngest's room.

“It seems so, dear.”

“We do not have time, Mama. I should call for her.” As Wooyoung advanced forward, his hand stuck out to grasp the golden knob, Yunho quickly gripped the younger’s wrist.

“Did you not say she preferred my company over yours, little Brother?”

“That was before we risked running late, now if you would.” Wooyoung ripped his hand out of the gentle hold and gave a new try of entering. 

A millimeter away before Wooyoung’s gloved fingers made contact again, the doors swung open and the trio simultaneously stepped back. Multiple maids rapidly left the room and soft as a feather, the youngest and only daughter of the Jeong family came into view. You were gorgeous. The epitome of breathtaking. The white dress cascaded down your body and reached the glossy tiles of the hallway. The details of the gown were subtle. The pair of golden roses professionally woven into the puffed sleeves and across the bosom accentuated your chest. No more frilly necklines or thick dresses to cover your figure. Your exposed neck was adorned with a golden necklace, an heirloom passed down in generations, from your late grandmother to your late mama, to you and eventually to your future daughter or daughter-in-law. It was a simple piece of jewelry and resembled branches of a tree holding pearls and clear diamonds instead of leaves. The maids responsible for your hair arranged it into an updo with many pins to not accidentally stray in your gently dolled-up face. A feather headpiece drew all the attention to itself, standing tall on your crown and flapping with each little movement of yours.

“Miss Lee!” Wooyoung teasingly remarked, “You sure do make a fine debutant, little Sister.”

Matching Wooyoung’s playfulness, you pinched the material of your dress between your silky-clad hands and curtsied with a faux smile, an expression you mastered over the years for this specific event.

“Thank you, Woo.” Facing the rest of the family, you bowed again, “Mother. Yunho.”

“You look lovely, my dear.” Ireum placed her hands on your shoulders and gave them an encouraging squeeze. “Your papa and mama would have been proud of you, treasure.”

“Do you really believe that?” The insecurity in your tone did not go misheard.

“I am more than certain.” She cupped your jaw and allowed her thumb to caress the apple of your cheek.

Your real mother passed during childbirth along with your younger brother, who did not live to take his first breath outside her womb. Three summers passed until your father, the late Viscount Lee, wed another lady with the promise of taking her two sons under his care. In exchange, Ireum raised you as her own daughter, but never with the intent of erasing the trail your mother left in the short three years she shared with you. There was only so much a three-year-old could remember and if it were not for the big portrait of your late parents hanging in your room, you would have forgotten the face of your biological mother. Despite the loss of your mama, you still felt the motherly love seep through the words and touches of Ireum.

The quirk of having a small family was that all members fit into one carriage and no one was rarely ever forgotten. Except for Wooyoung, who did the unthinkable just to escape the watchful eyes of Ireum in order to have some fun. Holding the title of the household, Yunho never stepped out of line and fulfilled his duty of keeping the family in good hands. You had what would probably be the easiest task; to stand and look pretty. It sounded boring at first, but the more you did not bring attention to yourself, the easier it was to slip under the radar of the ton. 

That would all change today. Whilst the people of the ton woke up hours after the sun rose, the famished side of town was on their legs since before the bright star had peeked over the horizon. For them, it was nothing more than another day of hard work and bringing food to the table. Age and gender were two words that did not mean much besides giving character to their entities. The poor were thrust into work at a very young age — something families like the Jeongs could never imagine — and brought in a handful of pennies over the course of weeks. The cycle would repeat until driven into an early grave from either lung poisoning, exhaustion or starvation. Some would say it was unfair that the sole family you were born into could determine your whole life and others would argue otherwise, claiming life was formed by sheer strategy and the use of tools that were handed to you after birth. 

Mister Choi would agree despite having more leaves and sticks in his boyish pockets than coins. Raised and almost born on the floor of his father’s pub, Mister Choi spent more time inside the beer-filled room than in their own house. He was a somewhat respected man, not by means of money, but by the reputation built through his greatest treasure, his pub. It was the reason behind the Choi’s survival through generations and the next owner in line was no one else but his first and only child, San. Mister Choi would be turning in his grave had he known what his offspring planned to do with his greatest treasure. 

Far away from the flower populated streets filled with luxurious carriages, men and women dressed in eye-catching costumes, and magnificent architecture, a dingy space residing in a rundown building. The name decided by the great grandfather of Mister Choi was carved into the wooden sign hanging above the entrance, albeit reformed throughout the years. The moment the key was in the palms of San, the young man decided to change the complete interior. The Crescent was the pride and glory of the Choi bloodline and looking over the semi-full boxing club, San could not have imagined a better use of the previous pub.

“I do not get how you do this, I mean, you can not even see a speck of blood on my floorboards!” San exclaimed, bruised hands resting against his bare hips. 

The male who was done scrubbing the wooden floor threw the dirtied rag over his shoulder and glanced up at the owner. San was a very handsome man. Sharp eyes, full rosy lips and prominent cheekbones. The black hair was parted down the middle with a few strands escaping and falling over his forehead. His most alluring feature were the dimples appearing with his dazzling smile, an attribute people would commit treason for. That was not all. Beside his captivating face, San’s body was that of a sculpture. The thin tank top did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and strong arms, and even brought forth his slim waist. The man had muscles in all the right places, courtesy of the daily exercise in his club blessing him with very hard abdominal muscles and firm buttocks. San was a work of art and there was no doubt in mind he would fit right in with the ton, if he only discarded that kindhearted personality.

“Lukewarm water and a lot of finger strength,” replied the worker, his pale hand coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

“Remind me to give you a raise. You have helped me more than anyone and to you I am forever in debt.”

“The debt was paid off the moment you allowed me a space in your home, providing food on my plate and shelter over my head. Do not fret over such minor things, San. I do see you as family after all.”

“Good, because you are the closest I have to an older brother, Hongjoong.”

The first time San saw Hongjoong, they had yet to reach the age of puberty. The elder was a scrawny child by nature and stayed that way in his twenties as well. Thinking back to the olden days, not much about his appearance had changed except for the aging and looking part of a man and not a boy. His caramel colored hair was still untamed and reached the base of his neck while the front strands were cut so as not to fall in his line of sight. Hongjoong was a man of very delicate features; a small and pointy nose, a heart-shaped mouth and feline eyes in the prettiest shade of brown San had ever bestowed. 

Hongjoong would have thrived in the life of a rich man, but that loose mouth of his would certainly land him in a heap of troubles. However, it did not matter as he was born with nothing. No title that would pay off all his troubles in life, no family with a great sum of money or greater achievement to inherit. Hongjoong was a mere man with a dream that would never be fulfilled. All the obstacles thrown in his life taught him to be grateful for what he had and not long for dreams out of his reach. 

“I do believe we have cleaned up nicely for my cousin’s arrival. You can take a rest and write some of your poems and stories that you oh-so-desperately hide from me.”

The exhaustion settled over Hongjoong’s shoulders and he could not have been more happy to hear the word ‘rest’ leave San’s lips. They had been cleaning since stepping foot in the boxing club and all because of San’s wish the place be tidy for his cousin’s first visit. 

He let out a sound the mix of a chuckle and cough. “They are music sheets, not stories and I am merely hiding them because they are yet to be finished.”

“You are telling me you have not even finished one piece of music over the course of how many years?”

“I am a perfectionist! You of all people should know that, San-ie.”

Prepared to tease the elder a little more, San threw an arm around him and lit up the room with his dimpled smile, but was interrupted as the door creaked open. In came a man appearing younger than Hongjoong and with a bigger value than the whole club and San’s apartment combined.

Judging by the unknown male's exquisite choice of clothes, Hongjoong would guess he belonged on the opposite side of town where they dined appetizers for lunch and drank champagne instead of water. Not a speck of dirt tainted his all-white suit, in fact, the only brown smudge on his whole appearance was his neatly parted hair to show his forehead. The stoic expression on his round face sent caution heedings through Hongjoong. Fearing he was there to cause ruckus — because why else would distinguished gentlemen stop by a boxing club funded by another poor man — Hongjoong hardened his gaze and balled his hands into fists. A gesture that would have him shunned out of every place in the whole town, no matter how poor or rich he may have been. As Hongjoong moved to greet him in an unfriendly manner, San’s sudden detachment from the caramel-haired man caught him off guard, but not nearly as much as the loud and warm greeting following seconds after.

“Little Cousin!” 

San moved at the speed of a racing horse and disregarded the extortionate suit as he wrapped his bare and sweaty arms around the man, using enough power to lift him off the ground and spin them around. The man looked uncomfortable, but his features were not colored with a tinge of annoyance or anger, quite the opposite. He broke out in a smile, gummy teeth on display and eyes creasing as a cute giggle filled the spunky atmosphere. The threat Hongjoong created in his mind was nothing but an exaggeration. Instead of a Grizzly Bear, the man became a teddy.

“San, release me!”

“I cannot help it, Cousin, I have not seen you in ages!”

The cousin, Hongjoong had yet to put a name to, dusted off imaginary dirt and straightened the lapels of his suit. “It has not been ages, you always exaggerate. We met at Mama's funeral last season, although I do apologize for not interacting all too much with you.”

It sounded like a foolish thing to apologize for, but who was Hongjoong to question it? He had never been to a funeral and would most likely not live to witness one either. The first one would attend, he would be lying in the casket if he was lucky enough to afford one in the first place.

“Anyhow, that is not important now. I did not travel all the way here to reminisce of my last moments with Mama. I have a proposition for you, but before that will you not introduce me to your… comrade?”

Hongjoong looked as perplexed as San’s cousin sounded. He did not expect the young man to address him anywise and certainly not with a high regard. His mouth opened and closed continuously. The silence prolonged and Hongjoong awaited harsh words and a biting remark from the gentleman at his lack of answer, but all he received was a patient stare.

“Uh, right! Right. May I introduce my one and only trustworthy friend, Hongjoong? Hongjoong, this is Lord Choi, owner of Precious, the most well known pub industry in all of Scotland and currently expanding to England.”

“Just… Hongjoong?” The man nodded and Lord Choi sighed. “Very well then. As my cousin said, I am Lord Choi, but you can address me by my given name, Jongho. I am not all that keen on formalities, especially with friends, and a friend of my cousin is a friend of mine.”

Hongjoong stared at the Lord, at his new friend, who showed off his gummy pearls as if the man had promised him a house of gold and not just progressed past the formalities five seconds into their meeting.

“Now, back to what I was saying. The proposition, Cousin. His Grace is hosting the first ball of the season and I have been given the freedom to bring whomever I want.”

“And you decided to bring your dirt poor cousin because?”

“You know I have never liked these social gatherings, I cannot deal with mamas coming up trying to wed off their daughters. Matter of fact, you are invited too, Hongjoong.”

Jongho was full of surprises, Hongjoong concluded. Dressed in a proper suit and hair tidily combed, but he still whined as if a century old child. It was uncommon—in fact, it was very rare—to see an aristocrat be kind toward people the likes of Hongjoong and San. He could not count on his hands the number of times nobility shunned him for his mere existence. To have a Lord call him his friend and invite him to the first ball of the season was bound to leave him skeptical.

Hongjoong cleared his throat and wiped his clammy hands against his ripped bottoms. “Uh, my apologies, Lord Ch– Jongho, but I cannot attend… I do not have the means to finance an exquisite suit or carriage or, well anything to be frank.”

“The same goes for me, little cousin.” San slung his arm over Hongjoong’s shoulders and connected the sides of their heads. “Besides, who will tend the boxing club?”

Jongho broke out into another grin, shoulders up to his ears and his brown eyes squinting so hard one could believe San shared the funniest joke of the epoch. “You seem to forget yourself, cousin. I, Jongho, have enough money to free up the rest of your week and restock your wardrobe for the foreseeable future. For the both of you. Go and clean up while I make some arrangements for us. It is time to pay a visit to an old friend.” He firmly grabbed both men by their shoulders and guided them further into the boxing club.

Hongjoong was never one to back down from a good time full of food, sweets and excessive beverages, not to mention pretty ladies in frilly dresses. Going under the hot stream of water and changing into a new set of somewhat clean clothes, the three men took Jongho’s carriage to the supposed old friend. The representative colors of Kilmartin, blue azure and an argent shade of white, covered the carriage in swirls. The foreign palette was bound to make them stand out from the rest, like the cart passing by drenched in complete black and minimal designs of gold added on the outline and handels.

There was always a mild curiosity among the bystanders standing on the pavement, yet the blue and white colors managed to even catch the attention of the second-born Jeong, who himself was in a carriage going in the opposite direction. The rapid flicks of his wrist slowed down as he continuously peered out the window, his attention caught by something more important than his sister’s worry over her debut. Sweat coiled beneath your armpits and chest, and the air fanned with the help of Wooyoung did nothing to cool you down. 

“Are there different ranks for certain carriages?” 

You snatched the fan from Wooyoung’s hands and smacked it over his head. “Is that the most crucial thing to discuss right now, Brother? I am sweating like a pig and all you ask is the value of carriages? I have not heard one, ‘How are you, Sister? Can I help you, Sister?’ from you.”

“Will you two hush? The whole ton can hear your bickering and I am certain that will not heighten your reputation amongst them. What man fancies a lady who is ill mannered and what lady seeks out an aloof gentleman?”

The two youngest of the Jeong Household erupted into another fit of whines and complaints making Yunho’s attempt at calming them down futile. As the head of the family and viscount, he could handle all the duties that came with the roles, but aiding their mother with the growth and upbringing of his siblings was a far more complex task than anything he had battled before. 

“I would not be deemed ill mannered if my brother could focus on the task at hand!”

“Aloof? Aloof?! What is so aloof about wanting to expand my knowledge?!”

Yunho sighed and leaned back against the plush seat, he could not listen to another second of pointing fingers and turned to his mother for help. The Dowager Viscountess chuckled gracefully, mouth shielded by her clothed hand and lips tightly sealed but not enough to hide the delighted sound. The struggle straining his features did not go unnoticed and she decided to interfere before his rich brown strands turned gray. 

“Alright children, settle down!” Ireum took the fan out of your hand and resumed Wooyoung’s previous task. “Now, Yunho does have a talent for over exaggerating, my dears, but I do not agree with his claim. None of my children are ill mannered, maybe sharp-tongued and… on occasions rowdy, but still very demure.” 

“But Mama!”

“No, buts Wooyoung dear, stop arguing and let us focus on your sister’s debut into high society.”

You straightened at the attention and raised your chin to the heavens. The pride set into every atom of your body and pulled at your lips until a triumphant smile lit up your face. There was no sweet victory as the one over your brothers. Your pleased look crumbled as the trotting horses slowed down and eventually stopped the whole carriage. The moment you had been dreaming of since little legs was upon you and it was equally scary as it was exciting. Walking through the doors of the royal court and being guided into a room with a dozen other ladies waiting to present made you realize how close you were to your dream. There was no retracing your steps to the life of a little girl anymore and while it sounded great, it also filled you with melancholy. Debuting meant entering a stage in life neither of your biological parents witnessed you in and closing the door on your childhood was to leave the memories of your late papa and mama. However, your mourning did not solely contain the passing of the late Viscount and Viscountess Lee, but also of the girlhood you would not face until your own daughter was brought to the world with an ear piercing cry. 

Your brothers or any other male relatives were not allowed in the waiting room and were referred to accompany the remaining guests in the main hall. The girls in your vicinity were all clad the same, some were more nervous than others, but the tension was nonetheless high in the room. The worry of their appearances did not quiet down until the first girl was announced to step out. The remaining débutantes-in-waiting stopped adjusting their gowns and feathers and focused on being calm enough to not ruin the important walk that would determine their rank and value in the market. Out of everyone there, you wished for one person to appear. Mingi, the heir to the seventh Viscount Song, whom you had known since birth more or less. It was a shame only the primary family of each débutante could attend as it would bring you immense peace to have him there. To see his towering height, bright smile, and single crooked front tooth on display and mouthing encouraging words. Mingi’s presence alone would lift the suffocating spell you were under. 

🎼 The chatter of the people outside moved in waves, raising and simmering out between presentations. As with many others, your name was eventually proclaimed on the other side of the door and the last ounce of concern sketched on your features evened out into a pleased expression. Your small courtesy smile was to catch everyone’s attention while your eyes would be the gems making them swoon. The announcer’s voice increased in volume as the doors parted, allowing the spectators to drink in the next débutante. 

“...Presented by her mother, the Right Honorable, the Dowager Viscountess Lee!”

You took calm and collected steps, synchronizing them with Ireum’s who was half a step behind you, looking equally as mesmerizing and captivating as the day she debuted. The trick to these things, she had told you years ago, was to keep your head straight and posture upright, showcasing importance and elegance. You had been practicing the walk for ages. The amount of trashed books and shattered teapots stretched over a hundred, but they lived to serve their purpose in the end. Hushed whispers and looks filled with curiosity followed your moving forms. You immediately found the scrutinizing gaze of the Queen, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting. She was clad in the most exquisite dress you ever laid eyes upon and that spoke volumes as you had your own fair share of expensive silks tailored to fit your body like a glove. The mighty periwig adorning her small head took on the form of a rosebush and put everyone else’s to shame. It was so huge, you nearly missed the gleaming crown — delicate and small — on top, sparkling in the dim lights of the chandelier.

Somewhere in the crowd stood your brothers. Wooyoung with a proud smile and cheesing eyes while the older looked rather grim, not liking the idea of his baby sister turning into a woman. But underneath that hard exterior, warmth and happiness heaved a weight off his shoulders. A feeling akin to pride swelled in his chest just to see everyone’s surprised and amazed reactions. The Jeongs always knew how to leave an impression.

“Your sister does take after your mother, Lord Jeong.” A deep yet soft voice murmured next to him. Yunho looked away from you curtsying, the correction resting on his tongue dispersing into thin air as it landed on a familiar face.

“Your Grace, what a delightful surprise it is to meet you here.”

The Duke of Beaumonte, Seonghwa, looked as he sounded; rich and eloquent. His hair was long and black, falling as a blanket over his nape and tickling his collarbones. Most of his hair was neatly combed back, all but one piece of his fringe, which was styled to curl in front of his bare forehead. Not many gentlemen dared such a hairstyle, as the fear of appearing gruesome was more probable than winning a horse race, but Seonghwa was the exception. He did not cower for any challenge, even those involving fashion. From peculiar suits to eye-catching hairdos, he frequently introduced new styles into society and it was by virtue of his handsome features that it looked good. The long bridge of his nose, full raspberry-colored lips, prominent dark brows and a pair of mesmerizing eyes held a peculiar coldness, but in essence he carried a warmth strong enough to melt iron. The duke was a character born out of a fairy tale with the posture of a soldier and the brain of a scholar. Women dreamed of a worthy man the likes of Seonghwa and men were green with envy whenever his appearance was made. 

Seonghwa chuckled, “I hope it is not that big of a surprise as I intend to find a wife this season.”

“Ah, that does explain your presence indeed and is that the reason behind hosting the first ball of the season, as well?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, a futile attempt at covering the broad smile fighting to come forth. “You are still quick-witted, I see… Perhaps it is. A man has to assess his range of selection in some way, does he not?”

Yunho nodded, agreeing with the duke, but could not further comment on the matter as the Queen rose from her seat on the red throne, wordlessly silencing the entire hall. She stopped before you and put a finger beneath your chin, guiding you to stand straight. Ireum did not dare to move an inch from the uncomfortable crouched position and your brothers’ held their breaths as if one single intake of air would ruin the moment for you. The Queen’s icy demeanor was a stark contrast to the warmth emitting from her touch. Your heart nearly collapsed as she uttered one single word and blessed you with a tender peck to your forehead.

“Perfection.” 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and your previously gracious smile fell into one of bewilderment instead. There was no higher honor than the praise of the royal house. 

Viscount Jeong did not fathom how powerful of a tongue the Queen possessed. He did not manage to step foot outside the royal court without being hounded by at least a dozen eligible gentlemen, asking for a formal introduction to his sister while boasting about their gold mines in the Kingdom of Spain or studies in India. Yunho was overwhelmed and there was still a ball to attend. The interactions would not stop there, as the season had only just begun, but Yunho was already overthrown by a headache not even his finest flask of brandy could cure. As if that was not enough, another headache in disguise of his brother waltzed through the door of his study.

Wooyoung was dressed boldly that evening. The rich red of his tailored jacket was hard to stray away from and one would think he was one of the débutantes searching for a bachelor to court. It seemed to be a trademark for the Jeongs to have gold details carved into anything they touched as Wooyoung’s jacket was embroidered in that particular color. The rest of his suit was all black; slacks, dress shirt and shoes with his dark hair slicked back with stray strands falling over his forehead in a fashion-like manner. The younger was also freshly shaved and Yunho could feel the pinch of his strong cologne on the other end of the room. 

“Oh, Brother! I was sent to fetch you by Mama; it is time to leave yet aga– Pray do tell, why are you not dressed?” 

“I have been busy discarding letters asking for formal introductions to our sister. Would you believe me if I said there have been over ten so far?”

“Well, yes? Have you seen our sister? She is the most beautiful débutante of the lot! They would be foolish not to secure a formal introduction with her, especially when the competition is tight. Each word spoken is one step closer to joining the family, Brother.”

Yunho opened another letter from the big pile on his right. “As if I would let those deuces in the vicinity of our sister. That is a very distasteful approach, I must say… Letters? What do they take me for? A man who remembers every single face I come across… Just take a look at this!”

Dear lord Jeong,

I pray this letter finds you in excellent health and high spirits.

I shall be curt and consistent in my writing. The news of Miss Lee making her debut in society has captivated all of London and I, too, find myself among the gentlemen bewitched by her beauty. Though I am not the first nor the last to seek you out in regard to Miss Lee, the urgency of my sentiments outweighs my concern for the multitude of letters that clutter your study.

It is said Miss Lee’s grace and elegance surpass the high expectations of Her Majesty. Whispers swirl the ton that Miss Lee has secured the esteemed title of the Diamond of the First Water, and I must confess, it is indeed quite fitting, rendering her all the more desirable. As you well know, Miss Lee embodies a kindness and warmth unmatched by her fellow débutantes and is a great trait for nurturing offsprings, a prospect with which I wrestle most ardently. The gentleness and affectionate nature of Miss Lee is to be guarded and protected from the vile eyes of the inappropriate gentlemen and as a frequent patron of the pugilistic club, I stand ready to defend her purity. This, I give you my word for. 

Each new piece of information adds admiration to her character and one cannot help, but ponder what further attributes Miss Lee may possess. I am but an intrigued gentleman who marvels at Miss Lee’s mere existence and I harbor a desire to peruse the remaining chapters of her story.

It would be my utmost privilege to make the acquaintance of Miss Lee. Might we arrange an introduction at His Grace the Duke of Beaumonte’s ball to deliberate upon a potential courtship?

Yours truly–

The paper was torn to bits before Wooyoung could catch the name of the sender. Although he had to agree the choice of words was improbable, he could argue Yunho’s protectiveness was the main reason as to why none of the letters were approved either. Finding you a possible suitor would be harder than anticipated if Yunho did not let up on his hostility, and as your other brother, Wooyoung made it his mission to help you.

“Perhaps I could help you look through the letters after the ball, but it is best you give it a rest now and get dressed, Brother. I doubt Mama would be delighted to know her eldest is the last to be ready considering your title.”

Heeding his words, Yunho slid the rest of the envelopes over the desk and into his first drawer before disappearing into his bedroom. A similar suit jacket to Wooyoung’s hung over his wardrobe, ironed and ready to be put on along with the rest of his attire. It seemed everyone in the Jeong household was to dress in the colors of love, passion, and anger. The guests and hosts attending the balls Yunho was invited to were usually clad in mild colors and he had yet to witness someone come in a starker hue of red, green or blue. He was well aware of his mother’s schemes. You already garnered enough attention with the simple flick of the Queen’s wrist, and Ireum was a smart woman for playing further into that act. Keeping the curious flame of the ton alive by giving you the most breathtaking dresses the people were going to see. Nothing was to halt Ireum from finding her daughter a perfect suitor, with or without the viscount’s permission.

🎼 Descending down the few steps of the carriage, you held a fair amount of your gown while the other hand was clutching Wooyoung’s open palm. The Jeong family was neither early nor late, although it did not matter whichever because people sought after your arrival. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the débutante evoking a pleased reaction from the Queen. They wanted to see for themselves if your beauty was truly unmatched. 

Yunho was the first to exit the carriage followed by Ireum, Wooyoung and lastly you. After your feet met the ground again, Wooyoung delicately passed you onto Yunho. Entering high society meant replacing your simple ballerinas with low-heeled shoes, something you had yet to grow accustomed to.

“Please, do not let go of me,” you whispered and held tightly onto Yunho’s bicep.

“I do not dare dream of it, Sister. In fact, you will not leave my sight this wonderful evening at all.”

Yunho met the eyes of a dozen lust filled men, some of whom could not even keep their tongues from straying past their lips. These were supposed to be chivalrous gentlemen, he thought and scoffed. It was no doubt the red attire — besides your beauty — was making them act ungraciously. Your gown was lengthy and stuck to your waist perfectly, revealing your ample bosom and collarbones. A ruby and gold amulet was sown into the middle of the neckline and you were certain people would not be able to decide what to look at more, your cleavage or the pretty gem. You absolutely loved the color, a deep red reminding you of the stunning roses growing outside your windows or the fresh cherries that were soon in season. The rest of the fabric hung loosely around your legs, granting you the freedom to move more steadily without the fear of falling over. Your shoulders were covered and bejeweled with rosettes and pearls matching those around your neck and ears. To shield you from the summer breeze, the modiste had gifted you a knitted cardigan that you looped your arms through. Ireum insisted on doing your hair as she had done so for many years and learned to style it the way you loved it.

Crossing the short walk to the entrance of Park Manors, you were in awe at the beauty of it all. Disregarding the decorations, the inside was not much different from your own residence; spacious, tiled flooring and high ceilings, a few paintings and statues to liven up the place, even a few flower pots. But as Seonghwa was hosting the season’s opening ball, he made sure to enrich the place with the most outstanding decorations the ton would see. Big hydrangea bushes were planted by the stairs, the different shades of lavender, violet and purple continuously wrapping around the railings and leading the people through the mansion. The walls were a beautiful tapestry of cream white that gave much space to work with any colors the duke wished for, and by the look of the interior, he had chosen all the hues falling under the category purple. Following the stream of people, you and Yunho found yourself standing in the main hall, a big space leaving room for both dancing, socializing and tasting the savory pastries on the sides. 

“This is wonderful,” you said under your breath and kept your eyes on the enormous chandelier suspended in the center of the ceiling. Under the lightning ornate was an orchestra stationed, already playing a pleasant melody as the guests strolled in one after another. 

Yunho hummed in reply and led you to stand by one of the many windows draped over with a lilac curtain. It seemed to be the safest place for the time being, squashed between him and Ireum, whilst your other brother had already managed to snag a glass of champagne and a tart of some kind.

“I do not appreciate the staring, mother.”

“It is expected, my dear,” Ireum answered, completely overlooking Yunho’s unease. She gave your elbow a soft squeeze of comfort. “We shall let them come to you, my ruby.”

As the music took a quick turn from a mellow to a more festive tune, the gentlemen around you pursued the débutantes for a dance. You perked up at the thought of being asked to dance and could nearly not contain your excitement. A suitor of sturdy height and dark hair had kept his eye on you since your arrival and mustered up the courage to advance with the aid of a much older woman you recognized as Lady Kang. She bowed, which all three of you returned.

“Lady Kang, good evening,” Ireum greeted and smiled politely.

“Good evening, Lady Lee, Miss Lee and Lord Jeong. I believe you have not yet met my nephew, Lord Yoon. Nephew, this is Miss Lee, Lady Lee and Lord Jeong.”

“It is my pleasure.”

“Likewise,” you replied and smiled charmingly. He did not look bad, not at all. His suit was elegant too, and he had a cute pair of eyes, very warm and welcoming.

Yunho, being overly observant and on edge since stepping foot in the Park estate, acted with haste. “Lord Yoon, is it not? I believe I do find your name familiar… Ah, right! You are familiar with the fencing club, correct?”

“Very much indeed, Lord Jeong.”

“It is a shame you have not visited in quite some time… Does it perhaps have to do with your failed payment issue? Or was it for acting unruly after conceiving one too many drinks?”

Despite the festive melody surrounding the two families, the atmosphere had thickened at Yunho’s revelation. Lord Yoon was left gaping with red cheeks giving your dress a run for its money as you took a turn about the room, arm hooked with Yunho’s. Ireum was left to deal with the stunt her eldest had caused, apologizing for Yunho’s curt tongue.

“I did not realize…” You began and glanced down at the shiny floor to hide the embarrassment tinting your cheeks.

“It is not easy, dear Sister. But that is precisely why I am here… and Wooyoung too, but we shall not rely all that much on him as of now.”

Yunho steered you in the direction of Wooyoung still standing by the treats, passing all the mamas and débutantes swooning at his presence, not indulging in them for a fraction of a second. Yunho was not interested in courting a lady and would not do so in the vast future either, he had too much on his plate to seek out a perfect candidate to be his wife! You were his main priority now and God help him if you landed in the hands of someone unworthy, like Lord Yoon, for instance. Creasing and plastering on an overly wide smile, you and Yunho walked past the entrance, missing the arrival of three very handsome gentlemen who stole the attention of every lady inside, single as well as married.

Hongjoong was not used to being under the spotlight. No one would think twice to look at him, let alone whisper about his handsome looks and wish he would ask them up on a dance. Then again, this was not his setting at all. Fancy suits, pretty ladies and interiors worth a sum he did not dare to imagine. At least the music was to his taste, he thought and mentally applauded the orchestra for their skilled fingers managing to handle the instruments correctly. Of course they would, they had all the means for it. Envy climbed up his back and threatened to seep into his bones, but the firm weight of San’s hand on his shoulder brought him out of the jealous haze.

“This is…” 

“I know. It is rather overwhelming,” Hongjoong admitted and nervously caressed the front of his white vest. His whole attire was brand new, a little something whisked together by the ton’s modist — a sweet and peculiar man with kind eyes and a soft spoken tone. They were lucky Jongho’s social circle was quite grand otherwise they would have never made it past the gates of Park residency, let alone see the shimmering insides of chandeliers and diamond ornaments.

“Brothers,” Jongho’s deep yet smooth voice called for their attention. How and when he managed to obtain two glasses of champagne was beyond Hongjoong, but the proletariat in disguise did not care as he grabbed the stem of the overly light champagne flute. “Let us be entitled gentlemen for the night.”

The statement was ironic, if something. Out of the three, Jongho was already a gentleman, but the aspiring musician did not correct him. If the owner of Precious wanted to play pretend, then Hongjoong was going to display the best act of his life.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth sharp and his eyes playful as he clinked the edge of his glass with the others, “Let us.”

The intrigued gazes of the remaining guests were not as overwhelming as Hongjoong first thought. After some time, he, along with the Chois, blended in with the rest of the crowd. They stood a bit from the dessert table and snickered at the aristocats under the guise of looking at the sweets. Hongjoong understood why Jongho chose to not socialize with them. Everything they did, from talking to simply existing, was pretentious. 

“Do you do this often?” He eventually asked.

“Laugh at the upper class? Yes.”

“No, I meant this.” Hongjoong gestured to the ballroom. “Attend balls and other events.”

“Ah… Well, not precisely. Although I am an Earl, Hongjoong, it does not grant me invites to every social gathering. I am here merely because I am an acquaintance of the host.”

“Where is the man of the hour, anyway? Should the host, I do not know, maybe tend to his duties?”

“His Grace is full of surprises. Everything he does is unexpected. Who knows, perhaps he will not even show, but I do doubt that. It is said he is intending to marry this season.”

Another entitled prick added to Hongjoong’s never-ending list of arrogant nobles. Sipping on the bubbly champagne that left a sour taste on his tongue, he watched as a new round of waltz lured the gentlemen to the waiting ladies. Soon enough the room was in full swing and truthfully, it was making him dizzy. All the spinning and changing partners and maintaining the beat—what an exhausting activity. The people standing on the sidelines, much like Hongjoong, enjoyed the festivities of the ball and he wondered if they had nothing better to do than eat sugary treats, gossip and fantasize about romantic endeavors. Not that he could be one to complain, his free time was spent writing poems and music sheets, more precisely piano scores. 

🎼 As the current round of dancing came to an end, the orchestra stopped their performance, making everyone turn their heads in confusion. Their questions were answered as a pair of white doors separated and someone of high status, Hongjoong presumed, entered through simultaneously as the violinists of the orchestra drew their bow across the strings of the instrument. He was mid-sip when the whole room erupted in gasps and murmurs of awe, startling him and having a gulp of bubbly champagne slip into the wrong pipe. Throwing a hand over his mouth to lessen the violent coughs, his eyes widened to the size of the duke’s saucers as they fell on an elegant man knocking the wind out of everyone. It did not matter how well-dressed Hongjoong was or what kind of attire the modiste brought out, no one could match up against–

“His Grace the Duke of Beaumonte!”

Hongjoong could not believe what he was seeing. The duke was simply a flower and every lady, along with their mama, were bees eagerly waiting to get a taste of his pollen. Loyal to the theme, he decided to dress in a velvet suit the color of moonvistas and wisterias. The white damask pattern on the vest was divine and matched his cravat and gloves. Every corner of the room erupted with ‘Your Grace’ as the man passed them, exchanging polite smiles, but not lingering any longer than necessary. What a presumptuous bastard, Hongjoong thought and masked his disgusted scoff with another cough.

The hundred pairs of eyes burned into the body of the duke, never letting him out of their sight, but Hongjoong could not bother to keep looking at him. The host was vexing the green monster inside of him by existing. It was incredible how the toss of a coin pre-birth could determine the outcome for the rest of one’s life. The title was passed down to the duke because of the time and place of his birth. That could have been Hongjoong, San or even Jongho had they come out of the duke’s mother instead.

“Perhaps we should greet His Grace?” San suggested and adjusted his cravat.

“You really believe that would be a wise thing to do? I mean, those hounding him are mainly ladies. What socializing topic could we have to offer him? Perhaps indulge him in your boxing club or– Oh, I know, I can share some of my work and see if he will hire me as a pianist!” The sarcasm did not go misheard and San deflated at the hostility lacing Hongjoong’s voice. The elder quickly regretted his harsh words and patted his friend on the back. “I am deeply sorry, San. That was unjust of me.”

“All is well. It was a foolish suggestion anyway.”

Before Hongjoong could reprimand him for his chastising demeanor, Jongho cleared his throat. “I could formally introduce you. I am quite close to His Grace, after all.”

“You never told me of your connections with a duke?!” San whisper-yelled into his cousin’s ear. “Now you must introduce us, see it as your payment for being dishonest.”

Sighing, Hongjoong replaced his empty glass with another full one. If he was going to turn his nobility act up a notch, he would need more alcohol in his system. Mimicking Jongho’s stance, Hongjoong and San straightened their postures and formed their expressions to make it seem as if they were of important background, all while feigning joy from attending the event. Despite being the shortest of the trio — courtesy of Hongjoong’s heeled shoes making him a few inches taller — Jongho took the lead and maneuvered through the sea of people.

“Your Grace!” He called and the swarm of ladies gathered around the duke dispersed with annoyance dragging their features. 

The stoic expression of the duke lit up brighter than the chandelier above his head. “Jongho! I am delighted you could come!” The men sealed the greeting with a firm handshake, both sporting wide smiles and stars glinting in their eyes. It was one thing to drop formalities with an underdog, but to be on first name-basis with a duke was so foreign to Hongjoong’s ears.

“I hope Spain has treated you well?”

“Certainly it has. Very beautiful weather and polite people. I wish to return after the social season… Possibly with my future wife if everything goes as planned.”

“And I am sure it will. You are the Duke of Beaumonte after all, it should not be a harder task than the piles of paperwork you have worked through in your life.”

Seonghwa let out a hearty laugh. “No, it should not, but I do want a genuine lady and not someone who is after my title. Perhaps, if I am bold enough, I may even hope for a love match.”

“I would not put it past you, Park. Anything can happen while the season is still in bloom.” Jongho winked and sipped on the champagne. The clearing of San’s throat diverted the conversation to the pair standing slightly behind Jongho. “Yes, of course. Your Grace, may I introduce my cousin, San, and our very good friend, Hongjoong."

“Well, gentlemen, I hope the evening is up to your taste.”

“It very much is! I adore the theme and colors of the decorations, it is very soft and not flamboyant as most balls are,” San admitted and although he did not have anything to compare it to, he was genuine with his compliment.

“Thank you! I deemed it most fitting to decorate everything in my favorite color, as you may have noticed on my suit.”

“Yes! A very el–”

“If you will excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom,” Hongjoong interrupted. The duke had not done anything particular to upset him, he was simply not in the setting to discuss the elements of the interior while he would later return to his rundown bedroom in the basement of San’s boxing club.

“Of course. Take left in the hall followed by the second turn on your right, continue on the path and turn on the first left, and you shall find the restrooms. Do not worry if you get lost on your way, there are servants and guards roaming the halls so feel free to ask for directions.”

All Hongjoong heard was, ‘Do what you want as long as you do not get caught.’ With his disappearance, the duke excused himself for a moment and took a turn around the room. It was lovely seeing familiar and genuine faces, not just people showing up out of curiosity or interest for Seonghwa’s business. Jongho was one of the few nobility he could stand and actually enjoy the company of without fearing possible ulterior motives.

You bowed to your dancing partner, an Earl you could not bother to remember his righteous piece of land, and returned to the safety of Yunho.

“Did he step on your toes?”

“No, Brother.”

“Then why did you make such a horrid face mid-dance?”

You contemplated whether to share the fragment of conversation between you and Lord Emberstorm that pulled on the corners of your mouth, estimating how furious Yunho would be after hearing what distasteful words stumbled out of the Lord’s mouth. Deciding to keep it a secret for you to bear and your diary to hear, you offered a bright smile and averted the topic elsewhere. 

“I am quite parched, Brother. If you will excuse me–”

An imitation of a cough halted you mid sentence, and you hastily turned around, expecting to be met with another request for a dance. What you did not expect to see was–

“Mister Song!” If it were not for the public setting, you would have your arms wrapped around the gentleman’s neck and cheek mushed against his. Instead, you settled for a simple nod of your head and a foot of space between your bodies. 

“Miss Lee, what a blessing to stumble upon you here.” The underlying tone of amusement did not go unheard. 

“Certainly it is, Mister Song. Have you finally come out of your cocoon to find the perfect eligible lady or are you still running from them?” 

“The world would not be spinning if I was intending to marry.”

You broke out in a fit of giggles, uncaring for the weird stares and whispers set off around you. At the end of the day, everyone dear to you knew of your and Mingi’s sturdy friendship. You harbored a love that was frowned upon considering your closeness despite being of opposite genders.

There was a point in your lives where both pairs of parents considered Mingi to be a perfect suitor and you to make a wonderful wife. You were perhaps five years of age and they considered the blooming friendship to grow past the platonic stage and into something more romantic, but with your father’s passing and Yunho taking over the role as viscount, your brother abolished the arrangement. The Songs did not take kindly to that and nearly burned the bridge you and Mingi built since childhood. Yet more than a handful of years later and you were still as close as ever. Besides, Mingi was not like the other boys you knew of. He was kind and soft and genuine, despite his big build and long legs always making him the most fearsome in the room, he could never spread evil onto anybody, even if he tried to. Mingi was the purest form of life you had ever seen and you could not understand what others saw in him to picture anything, but a shield of comfort and warmth.

The idea Mingi proposed after your thirteenth birthday — that if neither of you were married after your twenty-fifth year alive, you would marry each other mainly for the purpose of survival and an easy life — was proof of his kind nature and good willed heart. Though, to say you were appalled was an understatement. You immediately declined his proposition despite him providing you with a further explanation. It was first when he revealed the secret tucked far away in his chest, hidden behind his many ribs and lungs, and locked in the depths of his pumping heart, with the thought that it shall never see daylight that you allowed him to speak. In the end, perhaps you only agreed to it because he admitted you were the only woman he could consider himself to marry. The pact was sealed with a handshake and your promise to keep secrecy until soil covered your putrefying body. 

A love with Mingi was not horrifying compared to a long life with a stranger because a love with Mingi could never go beyond that of a friendship as he did not fancy women.

“Mister Song.” Yunho stepped out from his place behind you, arms behind his back and a soft smile on his cupid lips. 

“Luh… Lo– Lord Je… Uhm! Lord Jeong,” Mingi stuttered out a response. All of the blood in his body gathered beneath the skin of his cheeks as if the sun kissed him in the morning and left him cursed for all of eternity. It was painful to witness, but it was even harder to watch as your brother was oblivious to the flushed mess standing before him, barely keeping his wits together.

“I admire your suit. You shine everyone else down.”

Mingi’s eyes were so devoid of expression you could see the light reflecting in them as he held Lord Jeong's gaze, then glanced down at his clothes and back up at Yunho. Could it be that the viscount was indeed attempting a most audacious flirtation?

“What?”

Yunho chuckled at his dumbfoundedness and had to cover his mouth to avoid garnering too much attention from the people around them. He and Mingi were nothing more than acquaintances tied together through you. They never had the opportunity or perhaps interest to form a friendship and it was mainly because of their different ranks in society. While Yunho became a viscount at an unimaginable young age, Mingi was still in line for the title and had no real task beside scouting his father and gathering as much information as possible. Mingi was undoubtedly still a child in Yunho’s mind and the thought was bitter on his tongue, like the coffee grounded from the beans imported from India. 

The elder said nothing more. He pressed his lips into a taunting smirk, eyes relaxed and focused on Mingi despite everything moving around them in a haste enough to have their heads spinning of nausea. 

Sensing the air thicken and turn warmer around the men, you gingerly moved without disturbing their quiet conversation conveyed through the windows of their souls. It was not encouraged to venture into an event without a chaperone as whispers quickly traveled around the ton, especially concerning a lady who made her debut not twenty-four hours ago. Walking with your head still on the tall pair, you did not see the figure standing in your way until a collision occurred.

“Pardon me–” The words died in your throat as icy eyes belonging to no other than the duke cut into your core. Scrambling to restore your dignity, you swallowed the thick clump of anxiety and sputtered out an apology. Meeting the duke by carelessly bumping into him on the first ball of the season was not on your agenda. Making a fool of yourself was certainly not an achievement you fought to attain either. “Your Grace, pardon me for my inattentive behavior!”

A hum, dare you say not of disgust, reached your ears. You looked up and came to view with a dazzling smile that spread an assuring warmth through your body. The fear sticking its claws into your back melted and you straightened back up again. 

“It is quite alright, Miss…?”

“Ah…" You curtsied perfectly, "Miss Lee, sister of Viscount Jeong.”

It may have been the stark light of the chandelier or one of the many cherry tarts you consumed through the night, but you were certain a spark of recognition flashed across his face. You would not name it eerie, but it was on the edge of being unsettling how long he was staring at you. On cue, the orchestra played another song and people gathered in pairs to participate in the dance. Seonghwa cleared his throat and let his palm face the ceiling, steady and determined. Everyone kept their sights on the duke, and as he was standing in front of you, a promising position that could only mean one thing, it made you be in their center of attention too. A sudden dread settled in the pit of your stomach. Taking a quick glance around the room, you meet the burning glares of mamas and their daughters, as well as the disappointed looks of various gentlemen. The feeling of being perceived was uncommon and your thoughts simmered and eventually began bubbling erratically with questions of what-ifs. You were ready to take your leave, to excuse yourself and run to a place secluded from everyone and their prying eyes and judging whispers. 

“Miss Lee,” Seonghwa started and brought forth a pencil from his breast pocket. You were by no means a fortune teller, but there was no doubt in your mind he was going to ask you for a dance. The question leaving his mouth seconds after made you consider opening a magic shop on the other side of London. “May I have this dance?”

If Yunho was anywhere near you and not distracted by Mingi’s cute, rambling mess, he would have pushed you straight into the duke’s arms. To your relief, Yunho was occupied with Mingi’s questions about being a viscount to even consider what his dear sister was up to. The consent was expected to roll off your tongue and disappoint the gentleman, but anger the ladies.

“You must excuse me, Your Grace! I seem to hear my brothers calling for me!”

Your legs moved faster than your sight, and you nearly bumped into an elderly couple. Flustered and sweaty, you whispered out a hasty apology and ran toward a room you deemed to have the least amount of people in it. Seonghwa managed to utter as much as a breath before you were gone, lost between the sea of people and walking in the opposite direction of your brother. While he was supposed to feel irrevocable annoyance at your dishonesty, he could not stop the amused smile from lingering on his face. You were quite a peculiar lady, he thought and exhaled a strong gust of wind. If the duke was charmed by your beauty earlier that day, he was more than intrigued now. 

Running around unchaperoned on your first night as an eligible woman was not appreciated by the mamas standing uncomfortably close to their sons. Their judgmental glares stemmed from a place deep within, from a place of concern over what kind of woman their sons would take interest in. It said plenty to see you alone, neither of the Jeong brothers nor that mother of yours that married twice by your side. They do say the apple does not fall far from the tree. No one wanted to welcome a woman carrying the curse of death in her purse with open arms only to later bury their son six feet underground. 

Out of respect for your family’s name and honor, but also to protect your own feelings, you stumbled up the big beautiful staircase by the entrance and turned left and right until you were alone with the walls and striking interior to keep you company. If Yunho got a whim of what you were doing, he would be beyond furious. Instead of socializing downstairs, you opted to hide out in one of the many rooms upstairs. You could already hear his patronizing voice in the back of your mind, asking you how you thought to be courted if you were out of sight for the majority of the night. Would you expect a suitor to fall through your bedroom ceiling? 

🎼 Yunho’s nagging came to an end as a faint melody filled the silent hallway and sailed your thoughts elsewhere. Caught in its waves, you followed the mellifluous notes. If you were a sailor, then the player was a siren guiding you to your demise with their lulling melody. The further you walked, the louder the sound became and you recognized it as piano notes. Each press of their fingers on the keys was a chord striking along with your heart and your own fingers itched to dance along the white and black surface. The long hallway led to many different rooms, all of them shut except one with its door ajar and a string of light cutting across the tiled floor. 

You moved slowly, afraid to accidentally touch the door or disturb the mystery musician, and peeked through the tight opening. Out of all the impressive things you had witnessed that evening, this room would forever be engraved in your memories. In the center of the room by the big window sat a man in front of a dark oak piano, breathing life into the silence. All you could see was his back, a suit the color of snow, and caramel hair reaching his shoulder blades. What a peculiar style for a gentleman, you thought. 

Instruments were placed into every nook and cranny of the room. Guitars, violins, cellos, the pianoforte. This was everything you could ever ask for. You were not aware of His Grace‘s interest in music, perhaps your brother could formally introduce you to the duke later. Looking past the expensive equipment, you took in the room for what it was. The walls were a deep red contrasted by the champagne-carved details on the tapestry and rosewood furniture filled the room, everything from bookshelves to uncomfortable-looking desks and chairs, even a few sofas here and there. As every room of the Park manor seemed to have, even this one was lit up by a chandelier — albeit smaller than the one in the main hall — in the center, right above the pianist. 

He was on the last segment of the melody and you slipped into the room quiet as a mouse stealing cheese from the pantry, but stayed close to the door where the man could not see you until he had turned around. The song was beautiful, far better than anything created by the professional orchestra downstairs. This man was a proficient player and you wondered if you too could have been this talented if your mother had not established the foolish rule in the Jeong Household. 

As the man pressed his fingers on the keys and let them linger until the last notes vanished to silence, your feet got caught on the end of your dress, sending you tumbling forward. Blessed be the chair in your way as it saved you from falling in front of the pianist. The screech of its legs was so thunderous and sudden that it had the man jumping from his seat as if physically burned by the keyboard. The clash of your eyes froze you in place. Not only was his playing enchanting, but his appearance deserved a place amongst the many portraits hanging on the walls. The pianist you had yet to learn the name of was the most handsome man in all of London and you believed he even challenged the duke for his looks. The silence stretched on and your face burned hotter than the fireplace in your living room. Upholding your image, you brought forth your hand and cleared your throat just enough for you to hear. 

“Eh– Excuse my intrusiveness, Mr…!” 

Despite the fear swimming in his eyes and his heart thumping louder than the music downstairs, Hongjoong schooled his expression into that of a relaxed man. You did not seem to have any ill intentions in mind, but he could not take his chances. For all he knew, you could be of great relation with the duke and have him arrested for trespassing. His music playing was not meant for anyone to hear or see. He did not think anyone would be as foolish or brave as him to explore the second floor in spite of it being a restricted area for the evening. Hongjoong hid his sweaty palms in the smooth pockets of his trousers and slipped on a — hopefully — charming smile. 

“You may call me Hongjoong.”

An unchaperoned lady in the presence of an eligible man in a secluded area far from the party downstairs was a risk you could pay for the rest of your life. A barque of frailty, cyprian, doxy, a light-skirt were only some of the vile words that came to life anytime Ireum stepped out of the confines of your home after the passing of your papa and you wished not to know what insults you would be addressed with. Although you did not witness it, you knew it weighed heavily on her. To hear the other mamas speak poorly of her and criticize her parenting, all for being brave enough to search for another love. It was unfair. Ireum’s past was fresh in your memory, but apparently you gave it no heed as you did not run from the man standing in front of you, his hair wild and uncommon and eyes carrying a gleam of adventure. To call a stranger by his name was no better than shaking hands with the devil and your brother would have your head for it, but what Yunho did not know could not harm him. 

Pulling your lips into a polite smile, you scribbled your name on the imaginary paper and handed it back to the red figure with sharp horns and a pointy tail. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Huh–” You cleared your throat and ignored the flare of your cheeks. “Hongjoong. As I mentioned, I apologize for interrupting. You play a divine tune on the pianoforte.”

Hongjoong turned scarlet at the compliment. Praise was foreign to his ears. Yes, he was constantly showered with love and gratitude from San, but it could not be compared to hearing the words come from a pretty lady of presumed high status. 

“It is alright… Thank you, Miss–”

“Miss Lee. You may perhaps have heard of me, I am the sister of Viscount Jeong.”

It was no surprise all members of the ton were the same, they bled arrogance more than anything else. How pompous of you to think he would know of your name or origin, if only you would have known how many foreign faces Hongjoong had set eyes on. His lips set into a thin line and the fear swimming in his eyes was swallowed by sheer annoyance. “I cannot say I have… To be frank, I am not from this part of the country, nor am I familiar with the duke either.”

“Oh…” You squeaked, only then realizing how improper that sounded. “Well, please, pardon me for my pretentiousness. It was quite naive of me to assume such a thing.”

In the span of less than five minutes, you managed to surprise Hongjoong three times. The simmering emotion threatening to bubble over calmed within him and he did not understand why. Perhaps it was your sincere apology or the way you cowered in on yourself, or it was simply Hongjoong’s mind taking pity on pretty, young girls. Nonetheless, he could see himself on the same podium as the gentlemen in the longhats chatting shit and sipping wine while doing nothing but sit on their rears all day. He was in the vicinity of a lady for all of five minutes and he already managed to sour the mood. Noticing you had not budged from your spot since entering the room and began fiddling with your fingers, he decided to play nice for once. Who knew, maybe it would bring him good fortune?

“Are you familiar with the pianoforte?”

“Hm?” 

He jutted his thumb out over his shoulder. “The pianoforte? Do you play it?”

The smile taking over your features could be described as the sun on a winter morning doing little to warm the earth, but enough to brighten the cold season. “Not precise, but I was very keen on learning it.”

A caramel brow shot up. You were? When did you manage to find and lose the interest in learning the piano? Musicians were one of the few who kept their hobbies alive for most of their lives. Not that Hongjoong had much knowledge on the way things worked in the ton, but was it not better for a lady to have more talents for a better chance of getting married?

“And it is safe to assume the interest died… because?” 

“It is quite the story.”

“I believe we have time.”

You heaved in a sigh and ran your palm along the front of your dress. “My papa had a big love for music and I, wanting to be just like him, harbored that same passion… He passed shortly after my seventh birthday and never got around to teach me…” You avoided Hongjoong’s heated gaze by bouncing your eyes all around the room. “The piano was a means for me to stay connected to him, but the melodies became unbearable for my mother. It brought her great pain just to see it in the common room every day. So… she decided to ban all and any music in the house…”

“My apologies, Miss Lee. I should not have asked–”

“It is not a difficult topic, so rest assured everything is alright. On the contrary, I am delighted you asked. I do not remember the last time I spoke of both my papa and our passion for playing.” 

Overthrown by the feeling of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, Hongjoong rounded the stool and occupied the left side, leaving a vacant spot on his right. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand.

“You will not leave me waiting, will you now, Miss Lee?”

The teasing tilt to his voice was an enchanting spell pulling your feet further into the room that you could not disobey and it sounded louder than the slow church bells in the back of your head. The heedless caution of leaving a safe enough space between you died faster than a daylily. You had already crossed every line drawn to protect your innocence from staining and it was still clear as a day. What harm could it bring to sit by a handsome pianist? Taking the seat beside him would leave no room for defense if anyone were to catch sight of you. 

Hongjoong noticed your reluctance and turned his torso facing you. “You are to do as you please, Miss Lee. I can not and do not wish to force you into anything… I do apologize if I am crossing any boundaries, it was not my intention.”

“See it as– as– as you asking me for a dance! I will even allow you to sign my dance card, if you will.”

Pushing the worry of being the main talk of the season to the back of your mind, you occupied the vacant seat and tried, with all your might, to ignore the burn of his thigh pressed against yours and the slight caress of your elbows. A heat warmer than on a summer afternoon grazed your bare arms. Picking your head up from the peculiarly interesting spot on the piano, you gazed into the wide eyes of Hongjoong that eventually creased as his lips curled cutely.

“That would be more than alright. May I?”

As his left hand reached for the pencil lying on the music stand, the other faced the high ceiling of the room. His slender fingers were far from elegant and soft, but rather rough and calloused, reminding you of the elderly men tending to your garden. Nonetheless, you let the dance card fall in his palm and watched as he in one long stroke signed the last vacant row.

“Shall we?” He played a major chord and you let a giggle slip past your lips.

You did not touch the wooden instrument or breathe during his performance. It was a melody too beautiful to do anything but bask in. You simply allowed the uplifting and bright sounds to wrap around the two of you, separating you from the party downstairs. Hongjoong was a different person while behind the piano, you noticed. He closed his eyes and relaxed, becoming one with the music. For a minute you got lost in the beauty of his passion and sensed his love for the instrument emerge from him like sunshine escaping the confines of a cloudy sky. As the last notes spilled out in the room, you quickly reverted your focus elsewhere, but unbeknownst to you, he felt your eyes on him throughout the whole song.

“If I may ask…” You broke the silence, hands intertwined and resting on your lap. “Who taught you to play the pianoforte?”

Hongjoong pressed down on a random set of keys and hummed along to the notes. “No one. I am… self-taught.”

The mystery man was leaving you shellshocked once again. The dozen pianists occupying the dance floor in the main hall were skilled players because of the money in their fathers’ pockets, but Hongjoong was not in need of a teacher.

Talent could not be forced, was what your papa used to say as you sat in his lap before the big instrument while your mama diligently fiddled with an embroidery frame on the other side of the room, her belly round and ready to welcome the growing baby any day. Your papa refused to pay for tutors. He claimed talent and passion ran in your blood and you were too good for a teacher even at the ripe age of three. The late Viscount Lee did not withhold the truth, but before your talent was given the chance to bloom it was put to rest alongside him in his coffin. However, listening and witnessing Hongjoong handle the piano with care and expertise rekindled the flame that died out years ago, and perhaps with the help of another, it could be polished and restored to what it once was.

Scooting closer to the gentleman and pushing your already accentuated chest between your arms — a manner you had witnessed Ireum do countless times while in disagreements with your father to get what she wanted — you executed the mischievous plan with gentle swats of your eyelids. “Such remarkable talent you possess, Hongjoong.” 

Honey to go with his tea was not an option for Hongjoong at the breakfast table, but he imagined it to taste as sweet as you sounded. It was almost hard to swallow his thickened spit as you beamed that sugary smile of yours. The bare night sky bore witness to your intimate moment and promised no rain pour for the foreseeable future, and Hongjoong could erase the thought of handing you his suit jacket — a means of protection from the droplets threatening to melt you at contact. Forgetting himself, Hongjoong hastily averted his attention back to the big instrument and cleared his throat, but could not hinder the stutter from latching onto his words.

“Th– thank you, Miss Lee.” 

Darting your tongue over your bottom lip as you contemplated your next move — a gamble that could set off Mingi’s proposition five years too early — you reached out and put your hand on his forearm closest to you. The man stiffened beneath your feathery touch and his fingers froze above the keys. This was not the outcome you expected. Hongjoong did not fall under the spell as the gentlemen did for Ireum’s vixen eyes and seductive touch, and your consciousness was halfway down the hole of regret and anxiety before you could play it off as brushing dust off his clothes. The fear of being reduced to nothing but a woman of easy virtue loomed over your head and you forced yourself to proceed with the plan.

“I must confess, a twinge of jealousy arises within me hearing you play. It would be marvelous to possess the ability to play the piano as you do…” The finishing touch was to slowly retract your hand and leave a tingling trail on the wake of his arm, and end it with a big, mournful sigh. 

“If it pleases you,” he slowly started and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. Being in that close vicinity of a man not belonging to your kin set off a wildfire spreading throughout your whole body. It did not help that Hongjoong was a very attractive gentleman who, thus far, had only shown you kindness. The layer of clothing suddenly became uncomfortable and you longed for a glass of water or a change of clothes, if not both. “...I would be delighted to demonstrate a few simple melodies.”

The act of a dejected woman disappeared and Hongjoong could bask in the light emitting from your bright smile and twinkling eyes. Perhaps it was the very reason he did not inquire about the sudden alteration in your demeanor and gave you a sincere smile of his own.

“Your kindness is most appreciated!”

The late Viscount Lee stood correct as your sponge of a brain absorbed every word Hongjoong uttered and mimicked his motions with utmost perfection. Playing the pianoforte was in your veins and it was a shame Ireum forbade it. Though if the circumstance was different, it would still not change the possibility of playing in public. If one woman did not stoop in your way, then your own female features would. A man with your talents would thrive in high society, but you would only be allowed to play in the confines of your home and even that you were not allowed. The human mind was a peculiar thing. When you finally got around your family and achieved the one thing making you happy, it was still not enough.

Hongjoong’s chuckle brought you out of your blue stupor. “You are a swift learner and possess notable talent at the pianoforte as well, Miss Lee. A most natural talent, if I may declare.”

“Thank you…” 

Greed and envy hid in the cracks of your gratitude, and had you gone beneath a knife your insides would bleed a poisonous green. The three melodies he taught you were certainly not enough to quench your insatiable desire, on the contrary. Having tasted a speck of your dreams made it hard to resist the yearn for the entirety of the feast. The youngest of the Jeong Household was not usually bold, but one might attribute it to Hongjoong’s welcoming nature and dazzling smile. Had the circumstances been different, if he had turned the other cheek and ignored your stumbling presence, you would have excused yourself and returned to the safety of your brothers. But he did not. Hongjoong entertained your curiosity and pointed out a branch of excitement you had no prior knowledge of. 

“Shall… “ You began quietly and cleared your throat. “Shall you be kind enough to teach me the art of playing the pianoforte?”

The grandfather clock ticking in the corner could barely be heard over your thumping heart. If you thought you crossed Hongjoong’s boundaries before, then you were certain you had done it now if the look of his wide eyes and parted lips were anything to go by. 

“I do admire your eagerness to learn, Miss Lee, but it would not be an ideal situation. You are a débutante and I am but a simple gentleman. Our gatherings would certainly garner unwanted attention and be in the way of you finding a suitable husband.”

“It would not be done in public!” 

Because if either of your brothers got whim of your absurd idea, you would not be allowed to leave the foyer of your house, let alone accompany him to more balls in search for a partner. 

Hongjoong still showed apprehensiveness, but you knew that the one thing no man could turn down — except ladies of the evening — was money. Everyone was always eager for more gold and you prayed Hongjoong was not an exception, as he had shown to be multiple times this night.

“An– And your services would not be free of charge, of course!”

The proposition was not bad, Hongjoong thought and raked his mind weighing the benefits and disadvantages. Teaching a presumptuous lady how to play the piano equaled pockets full of money, less dirty floors to scrub and him getting to practice on a real piano every once in a while. The downside of your brothers having his head on a platter would only come true if you were caught which did not sound too bad of a gamble. 

“The question remains of how we are to do this, Miss pianist?”

Too happy to care about the heat attacking your face, you held your hand out for him to shake. The warmth of his fingers burned through your glove and kissed the skin on your palm, a feeling that you soon would find reminiscing for days on end.

“Meet me at the town's square two days from now and we shall further discuss our arragnement.”

With a nod of his head, the pianist waltzed straight into the agreement blinded by the shimmering coins floating before his eyes. The celebration was cut short as an eerily creak broke you apart. Both snapped your heads toward the sound only to witness one side of the double doors opened as if given a little nudge from the other side. Fear coiled around your feet and up your legs. You could not remember if you had closed the doors properly or not and your uncertainty did not calm the storm brewing in your abdomen. 

“Perhaps it is merely the wind,” Hongjoong suggested feebly, his words taking on the form of a sword and sliced the snake crawling further up your waist. What possible wind he could be referring to was beyond you, but it was easier to deny reality than fall into a spiral panic. Besides, who in all of London would prefer being upstairs than enjoying the presence of the duke down below?

Time scurried on without your knowledge, yet the loud clash of the grandfather clock striking midnight was not the cause of you parting ways. The harmless scare was enough of a sign to reclaim your designated position next to Yunho and not bat an eye at Hongjoong’s figure sliding through the crowd of guests seconds after your return. The forty-eight hours of waiting began as of now and it may have been the longest forty-eight hours of your life.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part7. hospitals and police reports

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: while Vi is in the hospital your dad reveals an unpleasant news

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 1.5k

✎ warnings: hospital, blood, swearing, mention of violence

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

the following hours were a blur. you remember your screams, the headlights of your dad's car, your mom holding you, the ambulance speeding, Vi's hand, which you held tightly all the way to the hospital, and so many doctors. you spent that night at the hospital, barely getting any sleep or having any strength left.

when the doctor finally came out to see you, the world stood still; you wanted to know what would happen to Vi, but at the same time, the news could be anything, which was terrifying.

“she's a fighter; that's something I can tell you for sure,” the doctor said, holding Vi's medical folder. “she’ll be staying here for a few days - I want to ensure there are no further risks to her health.”

“but she's okay, right?” you couldn’t hold back your worry.

“she’s already doing better; she's weak, but as I said, she’s a fighter,” the doctor said with steady calmness.

“could I see her, please?” you asked, looking her straight in the eye. the doctor hesitated a little, but seeing your concern, she gave a slight smile and nodded. you started thanking her and, for the first time in a while, you smiled.

“sweetie, we’ll wait for you here,” your mom said softly as you entered the room.

you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry. you needed to be strong for her - everything would be fine, and your composure would reassure her. worry and tears wouldn’t do her any good, so you gathered your courage and approached her bed. her body looked weak, and all the monitors around her seemed intimidating. her clothes, too, were unsettling to see, but you kept your reaction in check. the worst part was her face - you had thought it couldn’t be worse than when it was covered in blood, but no. the bruises, the stitched lip, and all the scrapes made it look like a waking nightmare.

“hi, Vi,” you said softly, taking her hand and sitting beside her. “how are you feeling?”

her head turned towards you, and a warm smile appeared on her face. “you look so beautiful, cupcake”

her words caught you off guard; Vi had just gone through one of the most traumatic nights of her life, and the first thing she did was compliment you. “thank you,” you murmured, a bit uncertainly. “but seriously, how are you?”

“like I've been beaten up,” she replied with a small grin, but she stopped immediately to avoid reopening her stitches.

after a pause, you both laughed again. “are you always this funny?” you squeezed her hand tighter. “no matter how bad the joke, I’m glad you still have the energy for it”

you talked for about fifteen minutes until the doctor returned to let you know it was time to go. you didn’t want to let go of her hand, but you had to, so with all the gentleness and care, you kissed her softly on the lips and said goodbye, promising to be back in the morning.

your parents were already waiting for you, and you walked to the car together. the ride was silent; your thoughts were still with Vi in the hospital. all you wanted was to sleep and make the morning come faster so you could see her again.

as the car approached home, your dad spoke up. “I know it’s been a hard night, but I’d like to talk to you”

“alright, daddy, I’ll change and come down to you.”

you quickly took a shower and put on your pajamas, carefully folding your jacket and giving it a kiss, as if Vi could somehow feel it. you felt partly responsible for what had happened today, but you brushed those thoughts aside and headed downstairs.

your dad was already waiting for you on the couch, and your mom stood by the window - she always did when she was anxious, so you knew something was wrong.

“please, take a seat, sweetheart,” your dad gestured to the spot beside him.

“what’s going on? did the doctors say something?” your heart was pounding. “please tell me Vi is okay”

“Vi’s fine; this isn’t about her health right now,” your dad reassured you, glancing at your mom as if he wanted her to continue, but she only nodded.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this, sweetie. I still can’t believe Troy could do something like that,” your dad said, and you cringed at the mention of his name. you realized you hadn’t even thought about him until now; the last thing you remembered was him lying somewhere on the ground, whining in pain.

“I know what I’m about to tell you won’t be easy to take in, but I need you to stay calm” your dad took your hand, and your face must have shown utter confusion.

“so, Troy’s father has filed a police report,” your eyebrows shot up. “he claims that Vi lured him to the parking lot and assaulted him. I won’t go into details, but the gist is that you cheated on him with Vi, and when Troy wanted to confront you, he got beaten up instead” your dad explained, but there was a ringing in your ears.

“what the hell is that? that’s a complete load of shit!” you shouted, barely registering the words coming out of your mouth.

��sweetheart, that’s not exactly what I meant by ‘stay calm,’” your dad said, clearly displeased with your choice of words, but you didn’t care.

finally, your mom joined the conversation. “your father and I won’t let Troy slander your name, so I want you to tell us everything from the beginning. start with Troy’s party,” she said. when it came to family, your mom never joked. it was one of the reasons you trusted them so much; you knew you were safe.

you talked for another hour, recounting every detail, even the small ones. your dad never took his eyes off you and listened intently. you noticed his jaw clench when you described how Troy had shoved you. when you finished, the room was completely silent, and sadness crept over you, like reliving it all over again.

“daddy, thank you for getting there so quickly. I know I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier, but…” you started crying. “but I was so scared. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. I’m so lucky to have you” you threw yourself into your father’s arms and felt like a little girl again. no matter how old you get, you always feel like a child with them.

“my precious daughter, you’re the most important thing we have, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you. I promise you, Troy and his father will regret this,” he said, hugging you tighter, and you exhaled deeply.

the next three days passed in the same routine: mornings at the hospital with Vi, then college, and back to the hospital. you spent a lot of time with her, and the doctors said she was recovering well and might go home tomorrow, which had you over the moon with happiness.

in the morning, you woke up, and your dad insisted you pick Vi up together. you hadn’t planned on introducing them under these circumstances, but it was how things turned out. when you arrived, Vi had already packed her things, and the doctor was giving her final instructions. after the doctor left, wishing Vi a speedy recovery, you hugged her, causing Vi to yelp in pain, and you quickly pulled back.

“sorry, I’m just so happy to see you… well...” you hesitated over the words.

“alive?” she laughed, and you rolled your eyes.

finally, your dad approached Vi and said, “glad to see you’re doing better”

“yes, thank you for helping me. I wish we could’ve met under different circumstances,” Vi smiled warmly at him.

“I couldn’t agree more,” your dad nodded. “I’m grateful to you, too, Vi. thank you for protecting my girl when I couldn’t be there. thank you for being there when she needed you." he said this sincerely, and they shook hands.

“I’m sure you’re aware that Troy’s father has pressed charges,” your dad continued, and Vi simply nodded. “I want to assure you that I’m handling this situation personally. I can see how much you mean to my daughter, and this is my way of thanking you, Vi” he smiled, and you felt tears of joy welling up. seeing the most important people in your life stand up for the one you fell in love with was an incredible feeling.

[lu-is-not-ok]

two in one theory... i am listening very intently if you ever feel up to share it!!

Alright, so this is gonna be... as close to an Abridged explanation of the theory as I can make, because if I went off on everything about it I would end up writing a whole dissertation or five hour video essay script on this shit.

There are gonna be three main sections to this post - Hong Lu's Daiyuisms, Hong Lu's Themes of Identity and how that connects to the concept of Two in One, and the Daiyu-Baoyu theory itself.

Strap in folks.

Hong Lu's Daiyuisms

If you know anything about my theories in the earlier days of Limbus, you might know that I'm one of the very few people who was convinced Hong Lu is actually Daiyu, due to some evidence I found personally compelling. This has not changed, as we've only gotten just as much extra evidence to this as we have to him being Baoyu. So let me just speedrun through some of these points.

The Fucking Jade Eye

Ok hear me out. This is maybe the least important piece of evidence but I can never stop thinking about it. Hong Lu's jade eye? Not actually fully blue! If you look closely on most of his sprites, you can see that he actually has sectoral heterochromia, meaning his jade eye is both blue and black.

Daiyu's name, quite literally, translates to blue-black jade.

Now, you could claim that this is merely meant to be an easter egg reference to her, but... is that really Project Moon's style? After all, when people speculated on Don Quixote being Sancho or a Bloodfiend partially based on her appearance all the way back since near launch, they turned out to be right.

Hong Lu's Father

As of now, there is only one instance of Hong Lu referencing his Father in Limbus, and it's a voiceline from his Base Identity:

Now, if you know anything about DOTRC, this should already be raising some flags, because if Hong Lu was just Baoyu, he would not fucking talk like that about his Father.

In the book, Baoyu is consistently shown to be afraid of his Father, for a good reason mind you, as he's his main abuser. Baoyu would not be looking forward to introducing his friends to that man.

Even if Hong Lu was trying to downplay the abuse he's recieved, this would still not fit his pattern of behavior. When topics that genuinely bother Hong Lu come up, such as what could make him distort or how rich people would enjoy gifts made of humans, he immediately pivots and tries to avoid the topic at all cost. He would not bring up his main abuser in such a lighthearted manner, he would avoid bringing him up at all cost.

However, there is a character in DOTRC which does in fact have a more positive relationship to her Father, and would likely be the one with an opinion such as that - Daiyu. Daiyu loves her Father, and when he dies she completely disappears from the story for a bit to attend his funeral. If there was anyone who would be excited to introduce their friends to their Father, it'd be Daiyu.

Lasso Hong Lu's Corrosion

I made a whole seperate post about this, but I might as well mention it here as well for the sake of completion. The design choices made for Hong Lu which are missing for Faust are very, very Daiyu-coded.

For one, not only does Hong Lu completely turn into a flower, unlike Faust, his horse also gains a flower in its mouth. For those whose knowledge of DOTRC is zero to none, Daiyu is a reincarnation of a Flower given sentience due to being watered by the Jade. I don't think I have to be the one to connect the dots between those two pieces of info for you.

The second is how the halters become a noose for Hong Lu. This, too, is a very Daiyu thing - Rose Hunter as an Abnormality represents the inability to escape one's fate, and Daiyu's fate is to die - the Jia Family arranging a marriage between Baoyu and Baochai leads to Daiyu falling deathly ill, which in itself could be considered a part of her repaying her Debt of Tears - the debt she swore to repay to the Jade/Baoyu when she was still a Flower.

The hilarity of the fact that this E.G.O came out in the same update as Hong Lu being called Baoyu in-story is not lost on me.

Rose Sign Abnormality Log

The third Log for Rose Sign ends in a very peculiar way.

There's multiple ways one can tie Hong Lu's odd reluctance to talk about flowers and the petals. One is the obvious "he's being reminded of Daiyu because she was a Flower" connection, but there's another one.

One of the most commonly potrayed images of Daiyu relates to a scene in DOTRC where she buries fallen flower petals, weeping for and lamenting the mortality of the flowers and herself. Hong Lu's reaction here to his fellow Sinners being reduced to nothing but petals upon Rose Sign's death feels like a notable parallel to Daiyu's flower burial scene.

Like literally everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu

The title for this is a bit of an exaggeration, but at the same time. I'm serious. Kurokumo Hong Lu is perhaps the most Daiyu Identity out of all the Hong Lu Identities we have, and the way he is designed to stand out among them further makes me go insane.

Kurokumo Hong Lu's most defining trait is his attitude - he often complains about his position and how authority treats him, though he doesn't really act out against them in any major way outside of making snarky or sarcastic remarks.

This is, frankly, an extremely Daiyu thing to do. Daiyu is one of the few characters who audibly complains about her treatment in the household. For example she complains about not being given as many opportunities to show off her poetry skills as her male peers are, and she recognises how, when all the girls in the family are given flowers, she's the last one to recieve them and thus is stripped of the ability to pick, being only given the leftovers.

Then there's the whole. Everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu's visual design. Because once you realize just how Daiyu-like the Identity is, you realize just how weird he is compared to other Hong Lu Identities. I mean just look how he compares to his other Identities.

He's the only Hong Lu Identity with a blue tint to his hair in the combat sprite rather than the usual purple.

He's the only Hong Lu Identity whose hairtie is a ribbon rather than a jade ring (Liu Hong Lu technically has the ribbon in his post-uptie art, but he doesn't have it in his combat sprite so I'm not counting him).

He's the only Hong Lu Identity to not be smiling in his combat sprites.

And he's the only Hong Lu Identity (and one of only four Identities in the game) whose Idle sprite has its body facing away from the opponent rather than facing towards them.

All of those combine to make him stand out like a sore thumb in a Hong Lu Identity lineup in a way that makes it feel intentional, especially since he's also the only Hong Lu Identity with that kind of notable attitude towards authority. Other Hong Lu Identities are either obedient, don't express any opinion, or just straight up are the authority.

The Baoyu reveal is framed in a very weird way

This is, admittedly, less of a Daiyuism and more of a not-Baoyuism, but I thought it'd be important to mention nonetheless.

There are a lot of things about Canto 7's reveal of Hong Lu's name being Baoyu that are very strange, especially compared to how the Canto frames Don Quixote's own reveal of actually being Sancho.

For one, the timing itself - why is such an important piece of info being revealed so early? Again, compare to Donqui - she was revealed to be a Bloodfiend in the Intervallo right before Canto 7, and the Sancho reveal only came in the second half of the Canto.

For two, the framing - Donqui's reveals are treated as what they are, Major Reveals. The Baoyu reveal on the other hand happens in a single off-handed line, with nobody reacting to it in any way. Neither Hong Lu nor the other Sinners seem to hear it after all.

And mind you, it's not like Limbus is opposed to giving us important information in off-handed lines - far from it in fact. Project Moon loves shoving little bits of foreshadowing and reveals you don't realize are reveals until way later in these kinds of off-handed lines. But the way those lines are treated is still very different to how the Baoyu reveal is treated.

Usually, when there's foreshadowing in off-handed lines, it's usually either vague enough to be something a character could say regardless of context (see Yi Sang getting hung up on the Sedatives bit in Canto 2 or Ishmael's comment about Syndicates pretending to be Families foreshadowing her own history with the Middle via Queequeg) or something that is in the middle of a scene that distracts from what is actually being said (like Hong Lu's distortion foreshadowing being in the middle of an important infodump or most of everything in Canto 2 being surrounded by a comedic tone).

None of this is present for the Baoyu reveal. There's nothing to distract you from this information, as the scene is already focused on discussing Hong Lu, meaning you're already likely to be paying attention to what is being said about him. There's also no vagueness about it, there's no way you can brush it off since not only are Wei and Xichun newly introduced characters, but it's a whole ass clearcut namedrop.

The only way I can justify that reveal being there in the form it takes is that it in itself is the distraction. Think about it. Didn't I point it out earlier that this reveal came in the same update as the E.G.O with an extremely Daiyu-coded corrosion design? Wouldn't it make sense for that reveal to be there to lower your guard, make you think you resolved that mystery, only to later on reveal it wasn't the whole story after all?

Hong Lu's Themes of Identity

So this section is a bit more vague than the Daiyuism section, because Hong Lu is the type of guy to just Say Shit all the time. It's basically just. Anything that I find relevant to the idea of Hong Lu's Identity being more complex than him just being a random guy using a pseudonym, with some (but maybe not all) of them directly tying to the idea of Two in One.

"Which one is the real you?"

There are currently two seperate scenes where Hong Lu muses on the idea of someone's identity being in some way vague or obscured.

Is Dante the person or the clock? Is the dreamer the one in the dream or the one who wakes from it? Which you is the real you? Does it even matter if that you will flutter away in the end?

This idea of there being one true self. That even if there are two, there is only one of them that is actually you. Curious, right?

Face-changing dance

During the Canto 2 scene where everyone gives their reasons for whether or not they'd be a good pick for being the one to dance, Hong Lu says this.

Bian lian is a kind of dance literally translated as "face-changing". It involves rapid changes between various masks and make-up to represent different emotions or characters.

Now, it's no secret that Hong Lu is a great actor, as we see in Canto 4, and Canto 7 shows how the comparison to theatre and actors can be used to symbolize one's performance of identity, as it does for Sancho and her Don Quixote persona.

Mind you, this reveal comes in the same scene as Sinclair's dance invoking the image of a bonfire burning all through the night according to the Mariachis, a clear foreshadowing to Canto 3 and the Literal burning down of Sinclair's home.

Hong Lu knowing bian lian could be further foreshadowing to his own skills in deception, and how he too is a sort of actor, not unlike Don Quixote. On the other hand however, it could also be a more literal foreshadowing, that he (Baoyu) Quite Literally changed his face. We won't know until Canto 8, but it is an option you know.

The HamHamPangPang dish(es)

For those who don't know, here is a list of the Sinner-themed dishes that were available at HamHamPangPang.

Now, chances are, not all of them have deep meanings. I don't think there's much of a deep meaning to Heathcliff and Ishmael's dishes, I think PJM just legit don't know much about British/American cuisine so they just picked something recogniseable.

However, not all of them are meaningless picks either. Ryoshu, likely a mother, has a meal literally called "parent-and-child donburi". Don Quixote, a Bloodfiend, has a garlic-based dish. These were clearly done on purpose.

So, what does it say that Hong Lu's dish is actually two different dishes? That he's the only one whose dish is two different dishes? And it's not like the two are in some way inherently connected, since they're of completely different cuisines. Japchae is a Korean dish, not Chinese like the Mandarin rolls.

And just in case you weren't convinced that Hong Lu's choice of dishes is purposeful - another name for Mandarin rolls is flower buns, and one of the special occasions japchae is commonly served for is weddings. If you had read through the Daiyuisms section and somehow have no idea what the significance of that is, I don't know what to tell you.

The Daiyu-Baoyu Theory (finally)

So. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could still be Daiyu despite being revealed as Baoyu. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could be a Two in One deal, or that at the very least there's something more complex going on with his identity. But let's discuss the theory itself, how it would recontextualize certain things, and why I think it's an extremely fitting an thematically resonant direction for Hong Lu's Canto to go in.

The Theory

Here's what I speculate is going on.

Daiyu, just like in DOTRC, is someone who was taken in into the Jia Household rather than born in it, and who strongly connected with Baoyu upon meeting him. The two would end up forming a bond strong enough that they would be willing to die for one another (or, if they're in particularly argumentative moods, to kill themselves just to force the other to have to live a long life grieving over them - this is an actual argument they have in DOTRC and I pray to god this is adapted into Limbus because it's too fucking funny).

At some point, Baoyu either dies or is brought to near death, likely through the same circumstances as in DOTRC - being beaten by his Father. To save him, his memories and consciousness would be transferred to his eye, a process not dissimilar to the one Xichun brings up in Canto 7, and implanted into Daiyu's body, causing them to become a vessel for Baoyu. This would be how Hong Lu as he is now is created.

All of the above is the main basis for this theory. Everything else that I might speculate about, such as the exact nature of the two's relationship, Daiyu's more exact background and personality, how their pre-reincarnation lives could be adapted - all of those are things that are purely speculative and ones that I don't really expect to be actually fulfilled. The only bits that I am sure are likely to be true is what I laid out above.

So... what does it all mean for the future? I'm glad you asked!

The Recontextualization

Here's a collection of just a couple of things that Hong Lu has said or is depicted as that would be heavily recontextualized if this theory ends up being true.

Hong Lu surviving despite claiming he didn't fight back when his siblings first tried to kill him: With the context that he used to be two seperate people, the answer to how he survived is made very simple. Baoyu is the one who wasn't fighting back. Daiyu, however, could have still protected him in turn.

The red ribbon on Hong Lu's weapon: There is only one other Sinner who has a similar decoration on their weapon - Ryoshu, who also has a red ribbon on her sword, which could be easily connected to Yuzuki and her death. With the context of Hong Lu being Baoyu occupying Daiyu's body and thus effectively rendering their self non-existent, the red ribbon could be a parallel symbol - a symbol of Daiyu and their 'death'.

How Hong Lu treats his weapon in his base E.G.O: The way Hong Lu holds his weapon in the illustration is more like he's cradling another person. This could be a representation of how he feels about Daiyu's situation. Likewise, in the attack animation, he's not really attacking with the weapon itself, is he? He's simply using it to direct a ribbon (which in itself is missing in the illustration), the part that is actually the attack. If the weapon in the base E.G.O represents Daiyu, this could be a parallel to how Baoyu feels like he's merely directing Daiyu's body to attack, rather than being the one actually attacking.

The duality of Hong Lu IDs: There is a notable pattern among Hong Lu IDs, and that is the focus on his attitude to violence. When he's in a situation where he's obedient towards his Family, he's either uninterested in violence, bored of it, or otherwise given no other choice but to use it as a reprieve from boredom. However, when he's in a situation where he's disconnected from his Family or otherwise questioning the status quo, he's shown to not only be much more aggressive and violent, but to outright enjoy it. With the context of Hong Lu being composed of two people, this duality could represent each of his components - the obedient and violence-averse being more Baoyu-like, while the questioning and violence-favoring being more Daiyu-like.

So, there's a bunch of stuff that would be given new meaning under the premise of this theory being true. But now, what about the future? What would this theory mean for the themes and ending of Canto 8?

The Resolution

I believe this is how the Daiyu-Baoyu theory will affect Canto 8.

At some point, whether before or during the Canto, it will be revealed that Hong Lu is both Daiyu and Baoyu. There will be an attempt to seperate the two, perhaps to implant Baoyu into a more fitting, more Jia Family-approved Vessel. Perhaps because the 'arranged marriage' from DOTRC could be adapted into something more... let's say Fear and Hunger kind of marriage rather than traditional marriage.

This will leave Hong Lu to be returned to their state as Daiyu, who will be revealed to be a very different person to what the Sinners knew Hong Lu as. There is a non-zero chance that Daiyu will be unable to hear Dante or be revived by them due to the one who signed the contract being Baoyu, and so they could end up acting as an uncontrollable ally unit not unlike Xichun in Canto 7.

The climax would then be Daiyu and Baoyu reuniting and being unwilling to part with each other again, even for the sake of returning to being the fake persona that is Hong Lu, leading to a potential duo boss fight/distortion boss fight/duo distortion boss fight.

The ending would be the two of them deciding to embrace their new identity as Hong Lu and truly becoming one, discarding their pasts and the selves that had been forced on them by the Jia Family. This ending would have a twofold meaning regarding how it connects to the DOTRC adaptation.

One - it would be a direct parallel to the ending of DOTRC where Baoyu leaves to become a monk. By becoming Hong Lu and discaring his previous identities, he'd be leaving behind the earthly attachments inherent to being Baoyu and Daiyu and become spiritually whole.

Two - it would be a reflection of the major theme of DOTRC, that being "Truth becomes fiction when the fiction's true. Real becomes not-real when the unreal's real." Hong Lu, as a person, is a 'fake' persona used by the 'real' Baoyu and Daiyu. However, by discarding those two identities and deciding to just be Hong Lu, the fiction of his existence becomes the truth, while his former real selves become not real.

Conclusion?

I could honestly just keep going with this post, but I think I'm going to stop myself here before I'm forced to find out what tumblr's character limit on posts is. Believe me, I was trying to be brief, and still this post is. This fucking long.

I hope this explains why this theory has been the subject of my brainrot for the past however long, and why I feel like it's surprisingly plausible despite being as deranged as it is.

Godspeed and godbless, I have classes tomorrow and I'm spending my time on this.

[yanmuffins]

what if the dimension of batman vs vampires p&f reader and damian accidentally stumbles upon is vampire!reader dimension? oh, and they arrive after vampire!reader is killed and turned into a vampire

the drama if p&f reader looks the exact same as vampire!reader (honestly, i see them as two different people since p&f reader is the same age as Damian and vampire!reader seems to be dick's age), since bruce looks at them and can't quite remember If vampire!reader looked like this when they were little

they all looking at p&f reader and damian being kids and wondering If vampire!reader were like that at this age, but then realizing that they don't have memories of vampire!reader like that

the despair, the anxiety, the guilt they fell

Why didn't they noticed vampire!reader sooner? why didn't they acknowledged them? why why why why

now vampire!reader it's nowhere to be found, and they could be in danger (they are), hell, for all they know they could be dead! (they kinda are)

and p&f reader and damian slowly backing away as they watch these alternate versions of their family descend into madness

let's just hope that version of the batfam finds vampire!reader fast and don't become desperate enough to end up becoming yanderes for p&f reader too

context &. context.

interesting!!!

i think vampire! reader and p&f! reader are basically just different versions of the same person. p&f! reader is gender neutral so they could be whatever gender you want them to be, while vampire! reader is female. also, you are correct, vampire! reader is older. while p&f! reader is around a year older than damian and came to the manor after him (being around 10 when they came to the manor and 14 in the fic), vampire! reader is around 21-years-old, closer to jason in age, and came to the manor somwhere between dick leaving for the teen titans and bruce adopting jason.

so, yes, p&f! reader is not only younger, but was the last one to arrive at the manor in their reality, and they had a pretty good, healthy childhood before that. not to mention bruce already had damian, so the concept of a biological child wasn't entirely alien to him, and they already had their hands full with him. the familial bonds ate tight-knit, lives are too busy, bruce already has to deal with his exceptional children and since reader is so normal, they're kinda overlooked.

and although there are similarities in the way and reasons both readers are neglected, i think it's worse with vampire! reader. she's around 7 when she comes to the manor, the circumstances around it being extremely shady (it was a scandal), and she's there before anyone except dick, whom she has shallow interactions with. from then on comes jason and the following children, and she just has to watch her father (and older brother) make time for everyone but her.

anyway, appearence-wise, p&f! reader and vampire! essentially look the same, or at least extremely similiar. but here's the thing: vampire reader's bruce does remember what his daughter looked like when she was around p&f! reader's age. and that's what makes him crumble, because vampire! reader looked abstemious and somber from a yong age, which is a far cry from her younger, alternate-dimension version.

that fact hits him the hardest, but dick notices it too. his birdie looked like a mini-adult from the day she came to the manor, and seeing p&f! reader he just wishes he could have actually bothered to be there for her. jason notices it the most because he was the one closest to reader before joker killed him, as she was the only one in the manor around his age. the others, though?

they have no idea. mostly because they weren't there when vampire! reader was a kid, but there are some memories; of her welcoming them home, little acts of affection, trying to get close to them. and they took it for granted. they started noticing her lately, yeah, but as it seems it had been a bit too late.

vampire! au damian would feel kinda jealous of the sibling bond p&f! reader and damian share, it would stir conflict between the two damians which i think could be funny amidst the angst (if you ignore that they're both kinda terrified of this batfam spiraling). all in all, i think bruce thinks of how shit it is to have a child missing so he would make sure to help send both p&f! reader and damian home safely. he's got his own kid to take care of and good lord, that's going too big of a mess for him to even worry about the two intruders in his dimension.

[morelikeravenbore]

Croissants & Comfort

Or: Sebastian Sallow loves being married.

Husband!Sebastian, Domestic!Sebaura. Mild sexual references and passing mentions of nudity but otherwise sfw. Written for a discord writing event with the prompt comfort food.

Word count: 1.1k

🦋 [my HL masterlist] 🦋

Sebastian Sallow absolutely, resolutely, with every fibre of his being and inch of his damaged soul, hates cats.

While others, perhaps those more trusting than he, might coo over bright eyes and bushy tails, fluffy paws and little pink noses, Sebastian sees only the sharp claws and pointy teeth of a predator. So when one of them shows up on his doorstep meowing for his soul (or for food, who can tell when it comes to cats?), he closes the door in its little demon face and pretends he never saw it.

Likely, it’s only next door's cat coming to investigate the newly-weds who've just moved into the tiny cliffside cottage, but to him, it’s a dark omen: anything that can supposedly raise itself from the dead nine times is not the type of creature he wants anywhere near his home.

After all, he's had enough of necromancy to last him nine lifetimes of his own.

'Was there somebody at the door?' his wife calls out in French.

Wife.

Sebastian grins like an idiot. Oh, how he loves having a wife.

'Non,' he calls back. His French is still terrible, but likely this is due to the fact he can't stop kissing his French tutor (who also happens to be his wife, who he's married to) long enough to learn anything.

Practically skipping through the cottage, he finds said wife in the kitchen wearing nothing but one of his shirts. The sight of her standing there all supple-skinned and soft-haired and half-naked makes him ache in every fathomable way a husband can. Without another poorly-spoken word in French, he scoops her up, marches her off to the bedroom and forgets all about the cat at the front door.

The second time the cat comes to enquire, it’s via the half-open bedroom window on a blissful Sunday full of slow kisses, little to-no-clothing and other such marital delights. Boneless, Sebastian is sprawled gloriously naked across the bed in a patch of late-afternoon sun with a satisfied grin plastered across his face. His wife, also gloriously naked, sleeps soundly beside him, breathing sweetly on his shoulder with her arms and legs thrown haphazardly across his body. He wishes she were awake (desperately so), but after she practically fell asleep on him mid-smooch, he conceded to let her nap a while to regain her strength. Still, he can't help but trace his fingers up and down her spine, through her hair, along the curve of her waist and over the bumps of her ribcage until he's panting with barely suppressed desire—

He can't help himself — being married has ruined him.

The cat interrupts his breathless worship with a curious little chirrup through the window. Sebastian quickly preserves his modesty with a pillow (lest the cat is not actually a cat at all) and glowers at the unwanted intruder.

‘Shoo!’ he hisses, mindful not to wake the sleeping angel by his side.

When the cat refuses to shoo, he shoo's it again with a French accent.

When that fails, he lobs the pillow at it.

The third time the cat appears, it's cradled so tenderly in his wife's arms that he feels a pang of jealousy that she's not holding him to his chest like the most precious thing in the world. They both look up at him with matching sets of big, pleading eyes (hers as blue as the ocean, the cats as black as a soulless void), but Sebastian is unmoved.

‘Absolutely not,’ he says flatly, pointing at the door.

Aurélie pouts and hugs the cat tighter. ‘But she's hungry!’

‘Aurélie, no way. No.’

Sebastian doesn't mind that his wife gets whatever she wants. After all, he is at his happiest when she is — but a cat is out of the question.

After Aurélie begrudgingly puts the cat out, the only touches he gets for the rest of the night are the daggers she glares into his back; this is the first disagreement they've had as a married couple, and it kills him.

Before he crawls into bed that night, he leaves a stupid bowl of scraps out for the stupid cat.

‘I fed the cat,’ he tells his pouting wife, reaching for the soft, warm weight of her under the covers.

She turns to him, all perfectly soft sweetness, and smiles, ‘I knew you would.’

Several hours and many, many kisses later, Sebastian goes to sleep a happier husband than he'd been in waking.

He wakes up considerably less so.

Beyond the bedroom windows, the ocean is loud, smashing itself into salt against the cliffs.

The cat yowling out the back is also loud, smashing itself against the door for food (or for his soul.)

Very reluctantly, Sebastian extracts himself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, struggles into the first pair trousers he's worn in weeks and drags himself from the bedroom with every intention of giving the cat a gentle nudge up the backside with his foot. On the way through the kitchen, he commits a French sacrilege by stuffing a day-old stale pastry into his mouth before wrenching open the back door.

He glares down at the cat; she's only a wee tawny thing, but he's absolutely positive she'd try to kill him in his sleep given half a chance.

He narrows his eyes.

‘What do you want?’ he growls in English: he doesn't have the patience to butcher French at five-thirty in the morning — especially not for a cat.

The fallacious feline eyes the half-eaten pastry in his hand with a hopeful tilt of its head. Sebastian scoffs: of course the French cat wants his pastry. He expected nothing less.

With a long sigh, he sits on the top step of the porch, pastry firmly in hand. Before him, a vast horizon of sparkling turquoise ocean stretches out as far as he can see — a far-cry from the wilds of Scotland he's grown accustomed to. In the Highlands, the landscape rarely changes: for thousands of years, the scrubby heather-covered hills and rocky, sky-reaching outcroppings have stood unmoved by time or weather — consistent in its beauty, dependable in its familiarity. But in the south of France, the ocean changes day by day, hour by hour; the waves that bid him good morning are not the same that lull him to sleep at night, and though Sebastian understands that his home — his real home — dwells in the heart of the sleeping woman just inside, in France he feels… adrift.

Still, at least the food is good; a small comfort in an unfamiliar land.

He offers a scrap of pastry to the cat.

‘This isn't going to become a thing,’ he warns it.

But it does.

It becomes a thing every single morning.

[tgirlblogger]

The Lambs on how good they would be at Cookie Clicker:

Sy - Depends, if its younger Sy then he's pretty good, if it's later on he sucks very much. A lot of Cookie Clicker is A) Having the patience to have it in the background for 500 hours B) Executing a 127 step 30 second long process after precisely 512 hours 37 minutes 46 seconds and 35 milliseconds of preparation. In early Twig most of the Lambs' jobs are "wait for a year to prepare and then strike in one night" kind of things. Later in Twig Sy would just forget he's even playing Cookie Clicker after not looking at it for a while. A for young Sy, F for Old Sy

Jamie/Jessie - Jamie and Jessie are pretty identical as far as things go, so I'll be pairing them up together. As I mentioned before, Cookie Clicker is about patience and swift but skilled execution. Caterpillar is almost specially designed for this. It's noted that they are slow in thinking, but memorization and execution of specific keys and movements is pretty simple, and so I think they'd be pretty good. A+

Mary - A+. She's pretty skilled in almost everything related to the physical human body. A lot of her offensiveness is that she plans her attacks really well. She kills one guy and in that same swing uses her knife to poke the guy behind her in the throat, killing him. She's probably really good at all of that.

Helen - She's not very patient as a person, but her mastery of her own body would let her perfectly execute the tricks. Honestly I think Helen would almost be as bad as late Sy, as she's, well she isn't fidgety, but she gets impatient. Wildbow really like his squid girls who can't control their impulses to kill people I guess. B-

Gordon - Gordon is the stereotypical athletic. Stick him in an 80's coming of age film and either he's the bully of the main character, or he's the meathead athlete with a heart of gold. However, this is only his mask of appearance, as he's not an asshole, but he's also not a great person, and he's also very intelligent. So I think if he has an audience, Gordon would not play Cookie Clicker, as to maintain his reputation, but alone? Honestly I can't say. Cookie Clicker probably wouldn't suit Gordon's tastes very well if I'm being honest. B

Lillian - Lillian is an academic before all. She probably wouldn't play Cookie Clicker at all, more focusing on studying or whatever it is an Academy Student should do. She doesn't have the time to play Cookie Clicker at all, and even if she did, she probably wouldn't. F

Ashton - It's actually never directly stated, but the reader can infer that during Twig, Ashton was actually mentally simulating Cookie Clicker in the background. We actually see that Ashton has gotten all achievements. S+

Lara - She has bug claws, and probably couldn't handle a computer all that well. If you made a specially designed computer though, she'd probably be good. D/B

Nora - The same as Lara. D/B

Duncan - Much of the same as Lillian. Though he's not as strong of an Academic as her, from the perspective of a normal person, he probably seems like a well disciplined man with an iron will. F

I'm not doing Emmet, Abby, or the Fairy-tale Lambs because I don't even know anything about them actually. They appear so infrequently that I don't even know who they are.

[mogamuncher]

“You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path, is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin, is a knight. You are here to slay him. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.”

Please accept my meager shitty art as we come back for part three of the "Moga fuses her hyperfixations together" saga! Aka: Slay the Knight AU!

Here's what I think Emilia and Subaru would look like, in true STP fashion I imagine both would never be referred to by name, instead being The Knight and The Frozen Bond (hah, get it?)

I made Emilia a little scary (and kinda Satella-esque), but that's mainly because from what we see in The Princess and The Dragon route, The Long Quiet is just actually fucking scary, so having Emilia be similarly intimidating would be fun.

Though I do think her personality would remain the same in this au, mainly because she's nice enough that she would naturally play mediator to the the voices, but malleable enough that she could just end up going with their whims when pushed enough.

Now for Subaru, I actually wanted to give him a definitive outfit that would kinda function like the Princess's dress, something that is a constant in every design but changed to fit the theme, the recognizable trait that showcases that no matter how fucked up these forms get they're still the same person

That's kinda why the little cape is there, it's supposed to be a significant design choice that can be warped with future forms

For the official lore, I like to think that it's still actually very similar:

The Frozen Bond, the manifestation/god of stasis, consistency, the chilling frozen in time allure of stagnation

While Subaru would be something like The Returning Cycle, the manifestation/god if constant change, perspective and identities splitting depending on choices, the constant cycle of time

Together they'd make the cycle of life and death, in a sense, and since Echidna in canon was trying to find a way to reach immortality, it is only fitting that she would split them apart and attempt to pit them against the other, as to goad Emilia into killing Subaru, this ending the concept of change, making it so that there is no means of which others can die.

But that's what I have for the moment, now, let's talk about some more ideas I have for the IF Barus

The Prisoner, my beloved

I rewatched someone playing her route and it dawned on me when The Shifting Mound described her as a vessel, but she's oddly a lot like Slothbaru

The idea of someone cautious to the point of stagnation, content to let the world pass her and remain in inaction, I mean, that's literally what Sloth is shown to be in the og series. That's also inherently what Slothbaru did when he took Rem's hand and ran away, leaving everyone else to die, but gaining a happy life for himself

Prisoner is like an Slothbaru that can't take Rem's hand, content to let the world pass him by for the sake of self preservation, but stuck in one place without the chance of running away, he can only wait and see because he's inherently passive, as he thinks he has no other choice

The Adversary, however, is the funniest one I think

Someone mentioned in the last post in the tags that Adversary is kinda Smolbaru coded, so I went back to read the arena fights in arc 7 and y'know what? They're correct, they're absolutely right, The Adversary is very much just Smolbaru

Which is funny, because The Adversary is supposed to be bigger and stronger than usual, though maybe it's either just that his personality is Smolbaru and his appearance is still intimidating, or we go all in and have Smolbaru just absolutely kick Emilia's ass with his bare hands in this one

Either way, I love it, also this is the route where Priscilla (Voice of the Proud) would show up, so having an Arc 7 Baru here would be a nice touch

Ok so I'm about to sound unhinged, but the Grey's

What if they were Natsumi.

Now, look, I have no evidence to back me up on this, I'm going off from pure vibes alone, but like what if

Honestly, it would be fun to have most of the Deadbarus be in some way or another Natsumi coded, though that would be fused with the Baru that lead to their routes in the first place (like Arc 1 Baru for the Burned Grey and Slothbaru for the Drowned Grey)

I mean, look at The Wraith and The Spectre

Imagine if the Spectre was more akin to Natsumi in her purest form, since the Spectre is actually surprisingly chill and nice about this whole thing, and then if you attempt to leave him there, you get the Wraith

A withered rotten version of Natsumi, falling apart at the seams and determined to hitch a ride and finally leave

In more confirmed Barus; Wrathbaru as The Witch and The Thorn, Greedbaru as Happily Ever After and Arc 1-2 Baru as The Damsel, The Nightmare would be Gluttonybaru and A Moment Of Clarity would still be Gluttonybaru but with more Louis/Rui elements

Again, I accept suggestions, and tell me if you want me to make more art for this AU, maybe I can draw more Barus and also the voices, who knows?

[s0uth3park]

Random SP headcanons pt2

Pt 1

Tweek tried to, but ultimately will never, learn how to drive with heavy advice from his loved ones (Craig). It’s too stressful. It’s dangerous because of his anxiety and tics for others and himself. No driving for Tweek. Please.

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Craig for being “half ginger” because he’s a little scared of him… kind of.

Speaking of, Cartman showed Craig his own wiener (as per TxC) of his own volition.

Fat fucking crush on Kyle btw.

If Stan hates that he looks like his dad then he hates that Kyle looks like his mom btw. Because… alcoholic x radical canadaphobe?? Fuck knows.

Stan shakes on weed (no projection here). He can’t feel it though.

Speaking of, Tweek can’t feel his own shaking.

Cartman wishes that Kenny would act how he would / seeks Kenny’s validation, hence his criticism of Kenny of the most menial of things (ie. holding a candle in Put It Down).

If there was money for it, Karen would own a lot of stuffed animals.

Kevin and Karen do not carry the gene for red hair. Or blond/blonde hair.

Cartman loves his fucking grandma. (No projection I swear)

Jimbo holds some affection for Liane but is just a gay old fuck. Jimned 4eva

Did I mention in my last post I think, despite Mrs Valmer’s canon design, that Mrs Tweak has the biggest tits? I’m saying it again if so

SHE AND RICHARD SCREW SO BAD I KNOW I SAID BUT PLEASE UNDERSTAND–

I know I said last post that I didn’t know how Tweek and Butters would be cousins but now I’ve decided… people can think differently because anything goes but for me it’s through both fathers. Tweak Bros. originates from Mrs. Tweak’s father and to earn the right to marry her he had to win him over and show his dedication to the profession

Richard and Stephen got grounded a LOT

Linda and Sheila’s hair always smells incredible (so much product)

Sheila is the type of grandma to give out stale sweeties

The Marsh name ends with Stanley. The bloodline ends with both him and Shelley

Heidi is the mother of Kyle’s kids (coping)

Cartman only became homeless after his mother died

He never worked ever (garageman future aside)

Clyde got vaccinated guys we can all rest now (the bad future self came back to tell him to never do it but once the good future is put into play he gets vaccinated because there was no bad future to come back to tell him)

Clyde is very girldad coded, soz

Bebe’s dad is a bit younger than her mom (he is the ultimate girldad… Mr. Stevens I wish I knew your name)

Clyde gets more insecure about his weight / appearance as he gets older. For now he is young however so let him live (his pudge is the pudge ever and he is sonboy if not a carnal dream and a half… latter only in pcov ofc)

Mr. Stevens helps Bebe with her homework a fuckton (particularly maths)

Butters bites his nails

Butters (after growing up) loves strong women. Look at his Pcov design and tell me he doesn’t want / have / respect a buff wife.

If Butters wasn’t grounded as much as a kid he wouldn’t have a fear of expectations as much as he does, meaning he would have probably gotten a better job than working in Dennybees or whatever it was called. Bro could have been a multi billionaire girlboss

I just want someone to hear this it’s not really a headcanon but BHLK Queen Thistle? LINDA STOTCH? Same character different nationalities istg

Kyle plays chaperone a fair bit to the guys

Kyle, Tolkien and Craig are the most sensible drivers out of All The Boys (Tolkien behind Craig and Kyle if I’m being honest)

Kenny and Bebe (Bebe isn’t a boy but YKWIM) are the fucking fastest / most reckless

Clyde and Stan are sort of not great but not bad drivers

Jimmy is rather close to Tolkien in terms of driving skill yk

Butters, Cartman, Tweek don’t drive – Cartman out of laziness / expectation of chaperones, and Butters and Tweek out of stress… Tweek tried to learn though

Craig in later years drives Tweek everywhere

Tweek and Cartman have experienced heart attacks (in later years) but for different reasons to the other. Clyde has come very close. So has Craig, though not as close.

Tweek dies before Craig.

Stan dies before Kyle.

Butters dies before Kenny (ironically).

Craig visits Tweek’s grave with flowers every week??

Craig, as an old man, where’s a lot of fucking cardigans. Grandpa shirts too (the things without the collars).

Tweek and Craig have matching anythings. Typically slippers.

Bebe is very handsy and sometimes possessive. Clyde thinks it’s “sweet”. (The dudebro sweet not the romantic sweet through the possessiveness originates from romanticism).

In Pcov Clyde is a delivery man, actually

Out of all the couples, it would always be Clybe to cause the most hickeys

Bebe has a flatter ass than brilliant boobs (opposite for Wendy, though Wendy isn’t flat chested)

Nichole bleaches her skin in the future (it’s sad but look at her design. Out of everything else it’s the most unrecognisable and it’s awful)

Nichole loves 60s/70s paraphernalia and fashion (the ultimate flower power child)

Wendy and Cartman fuck at least once in their lifetimes. They take it to the grave, but because of this Cartman doesn’t die a fucking virgin

That sounds so damn harsh wth but it’s true (I think Cartman doesn’t really have any labels moreso is just attached to certain people when it’s not just himself *cough cough* Kyle and Wendy *cough cough*)

Jimmy can see perfectly fine out of both eyes until he reaches teenhood

Jimmy has two brown haired alleles

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Kenny or Craig for having a ginger / red haired parent because he thinks they’re pretty cool. He lowkey ships them / wants to be them.

Cartman has the gene for ginger hair.

[xuchiya]

"stuck in this fairytale" || choi san || series || tenth part

| genre: prince! san. fluff. angst. adventure | mentions: cursing. | here's the first part

back to masterlist | chapter 11

Jongho sat alone in his room, the one Wooyoung had given him when he arrived, unable to shake off the memories that haunted him. This was where he first met you—more like you tackled him— and this was also the place where he lost you, a fact that weighed heavily on his heart. The memory played in his mind on repeat, an endless loop of guilt and regret. He tightened his grip on the book in his hand, as if it might somehow tether him, keep him from being consumed by the depths of his own remorse.

He blamed himself. He’d had the power to act, to protect you, yet he’d done nothing. Still, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to resent you. Sacrifice was in your nature. You’d always been known for it.

“I’m sorry, bookie…” Jongho’s voice trembled with emotion as he held the worn book, Dragon Mountain, close to his chest. With a heavy sigh, he opened the book and began flipping through its familiar pages, curious as to why this one hit him in the head in the first place. 

Eventually, he stopped at an illustration he’d often lingered over: a striking figure of a woman with flowing, fiery red hair, a crown resting regally upon her head, and a wreath of flames swirling around her. The name below the picture read simply, Brigid. He traced the letters with a gentle finger, his gaze lingering on the character’s face. At first, the woman looked like a figure out of Greek mythology, powerful and godlike. But the longer he looked, the more he saw subtle details that reminded him of you. The arch of her brows, the determined set of her mouth, even the glint of warmth tempered with strength in her eyes—it all whispered of you.

As he stared at the illustration, a wave of memories washed over him, transporting him back to the days when he had first come to know you. You had never been a campus celebrity or someone who stood in the spotlight, but you left an undeniable impact on everyone you met. To those who truly knew you, you were unforgettable.

A freshman at KQ University majoring in computer science. He’s been part of the student council, immersed in his responsibilities when he noticed you, looking lost but determined. Before he had a chance to offer help— it was you who approached him but in a different matter— you’d hurried over to him, grabbing his arm just in time to pull him out of harm’s way as one of the string lights hanging above came crashing down where he’d been standing.

The moment left him stunned, but you only brushed it off with a simple, “You’re not hurt, are you?” He nodded slowly, still processing what had just happened, while you let out a relieved sigh, you were about to speak when Wooyoung appeared behind you, tackling you with his usual playful energy. Jongho could still remember how you laughed as Wooyoung’s arm draped around your shoulder, pinching his side in response to his antics.

“Ah! Jongho-yah! So you met my childhood friend!” Wooyoung had grinned, pulling you close. “I finally convinced her to join us here at KQ University. Meet our very own fierce, loving, and feisty girl.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at his playful description, but extended your hand to Jongho with a warm smile. From that day on, you became friends. Not because you had saved him, but because you saw him—really saw him—for who he was. You saw beyond the labels and expectations, beyond his status as the son of a well-known sports car brand, Dragons. To you, he wasn’t a title or a legacy. He was simply Jongho.

And that made Jongho breathe. That made Jongho smile for the first time without having to put up with a fake one. And Jongho had grown close to you, treasuring every laugh, every shared moment. He admired your ability to balance strength and kindness, to bring light into every room you entered. But now, as he sat alone with the weight of your absence pressing down on him, he felt hollow. The memories of you, of your laughter and your fierce loyalty, were all he had left.

In his heart, Jongho knew that he’d have given anything to change that day. To be the one to step forward, to shield you. But you had acted first, your nature as protective as ever. And so he was left here, gripping that book as if it could somehow bring you back or lessen the ache of your loss, haunted by the echoes of what he should have done.

“Mourning is for the dead. She’s not.” A voice brought him out of his trace of memories. He blinks, looking up from where it came from. There stood—clad in a formal prince outfit— was his senior and the prince of the story, from what Wooyoung filled him in, Choi San.

“I– I was not! I was…” He sighs, looking back to the book, a sad look in his eyes, “It’s my fault.” 

San, who was on his way to his library office when he came across his room, the door was ajar and the first thing he saw was Jongho's hunched body by the bed. Deep in thought and a blank dull look on his face.  San was absolutely shocked to discover a new member that came in when Wooyoung introduced him to who he is over dinner time. San and his father were able to lean forward at the same time in discovering ‘Choi Jongho’, someone with the same last name as them. It has become a tradition to know the relation of parents to whoever has the last name related to the royalties. When the King questioned about his family line, Jongho had simply explained about his family line by owning a carriage.

It’s like the explanation in an old time explanation of his modern life. Wooyoung explained to him to speak in their time as no one recognized who he was, unlike Jongho recognized everyone. 

San sighed softly as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his tailored dress pants, stepping fully into Jongho’s room. Without saying a word, he crossed the quiet space and settled beside Jongho on the edge of the bed. The silence was thick, almost reverent, until San finally broke it, his voice gentle. “Do you want to know what she said to me when she first arrived here?” 

Jongho looked up, a deep frown knitting his brows. “What?” he murmured, a hint of curiosity breaking through his sadness.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of San’s lips as he cast his gaze downward, recalling the vivid memory. He could still hear the echo of your laughter, bright and genuine. Ignoring the quickened beat of his heart, he let the memory wash over him.

“She told me…” San began, chuckling quietly, “she told me, ‘What the hell are you wearing?’ right there in the library. And then she burst out laughing. Loudly, too. I’m sure everyone within earshot heard her.”

Jongho’s eyes softened as he imagined it, a small smile breaking through his somber expression. He could picture you standing there, laughing at San’s formal attire, teasing him in that light-hearted way that only you could. Despite the ache in his chest, he found himself chuckling under his breath. “Sounds like her…” he murmured, the warmth in his voice undeniable.

San nodded, his smile widening as he continued. “Even in a strange place, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, she just… looked over the horizon, like nothing could weigh her down. She’s always been that way. Positive. Strong-willed.” He paused, looking off to the side as he marveled at the memory. “It amazes me sometimes—she was just so sure of herself.”

Jongho nodded, a fond look in his eyes as he remembered more moments with you. “She’s always been kind to everyone, even… animals,” he said, chuckling at the memory that surfaced. “One time, at the zoo, she even managed to befriend an eagle. It just landed on her shoulder out of nowhere and sat there. She looked at it like it was an old friend.”

San raised his brows, intrigued. “An eagle?”

“Yeah,” Jongho said, nodding. “The keepers were trying to get it off her shoulder, but it wouldn’t budge. It stayed there, like it had some kind of bond with her.”

San fell silent, and his expression grew thoughtful. The mention of the eagle triggered a memory. Just eight days after you’d disappeared, he had gone back to the riverside himself, desperate to search every corner for any sign of you. The search, however, had turned up nothing, just as Seonghwa’s had. He remembered the journey back to the Choi Kingdom afterward, when an eagle had soared above them, its piercing cry echoing through the sky. It had circled overhead for what felt like hours. Eagles weren’t known to fly near the kingdom; they preferred the isolated mountains. The sight had left him with questions he couldn’t quite answer.

“Why? Did the eagle leave?” San asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Jongho shook his head, “No. It stayed until she was the who placed him back in his nest.”

Something about the story tugged at San’s heart, a quiet familiarity lingering with the mention of the eagle. He knew someone who kept an eagle, a memory that felt close, almost within reach.

“Does it … have a name?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jongho watched San carefully, sensing his growing interest. “Yes,” he replied, “Its name is Aven.”

The name jolted San from his thoughts, his eyes widening slightly. Jongho noticed his reaction, concern etched on his face. “San-hyung, is something wrong?”

San shook his head, his expression softening as he turned back to Jongho. “No… not really.” He gave Jongho’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “She must be taken care of one of the townspeople of JeoKang kingdom, so she'll be fine. We’re still looking for her.”

Jongho’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but a quiet sigh escaped him. “I know. She’s tough. Some people even call her a dragon.”

San’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “A dragon?”

Jongho nodded, his voice steady with admiration. “Yeah. People say she has the spirit of a dragon—untouchable, unbreakable. It’s like she has this invisible armor that shields her, that nothing can penetrate. And when she feels strongly about something, it’s like she breathes fire. Her words, her passion… she doesn’t hold back. But even with that fierce spirit, she’s one of the most protective people I know.”

San nodded absentmindedly, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he absorbed Jongho’s words. “She really does sound like a dragon,” he murmured, as if hearing the description of you had brought you back into the room, even if only for a moment.

As he stood to leave, he made his way to the door, but paused when he heard Jongho’s voice.

“San-hyung…”

San turned, amused by the nickname. “Yes, Jongho?”

Jongho gave him a small, knowing smile. “She likes you, you know.”

San’s eyes widened, a rush of warmth spreading across his face. He stammered, struggling to form a response, his usual composure faltering. “I—I… I’ll believe it when she’s the one to say it,” he managed to reply, clearing his throat as he turned back to the door, his cheeks tinged with a hint of red.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he stepped out, closing the door quietly behind him. He leaned against the wall in the hallway, exhaling a deep, shaky breath as he placed a hand over his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart. A faint smile ghosted across his lips as he made his way back to his library office, the thought of your smile and the possibility of your feelings lingering in his mind.

The rich scent of honey and herbs wafted through the room as you cradled a steaming cup of tea. Across from you, your mother settled into her chair, her gaze warm yet contemplative. The little girl beside her—Hyunjin, as she was introduced to you—kicked her legs in delight as she munched on the bread you had given her earlier. Watching your mother smooth Hyunjin's hair and gaze at her with such tender care pulled at your heart, reminding you of countless moments from your own childhood. Memories surfaced of your mother comforting you, teaching you, and showing you an unwavering love, which seemed now to have extended itself to Hyunjin.

“So … what really happened here?” you asked softly, savoring the honeyed tea as you awaited her answer.

Your mother’s gaze met yours, serious but gentle. “Jeong Yunho and Kang Yeosang were half-brothers,” she began. There was a weight in her words, a gravity that seemed to reach beyond the bounds of a simple family story. She held your gaze as she continued, “Even with only half of the same blood, they were meant to rule.”

“Meant to rule… but also to be part of this curse,” you murmured, following her lead.

Your mother’s face softened, but her sigh carried the weight of years of sorrow and mystery. She turned her gaze out the window, eyes distant as if recalling a memory she had long tried to bury. “They were symbols of hope and kindness. Whenever they helped us, we felt a spark—a reminder of the goodness they brought into this world.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “But what happened to them? What exactly was this curse?”

She shook her head, her brows knitting together. “I don’t know, my darling. The night before their coronation, we were all ready to celebrate. But instead of festivities, we only received word from the palace speaker about their sudden disappearance. No one knew where they went, and no one dared to ask.” Her voice held a sadness mixed with regret, as if she wished she could have done something to prevent it.

You felt a strange sense of unease stirring within you, knitting your brows together as your mind traced back to the celebration in the Kim Kingdom. You thought of the strange, flickering sparks that had danced in your hands, the feeling that something was watching, waiting. Pieces of memory and intuition fell into place, forming a half-completed puzzle in your mind.

“When was their celebration?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, a hunch taking root in the back of your mind.

“Three months ago. Why do you ask?” she replied, a hint of concern crossing her face.

Your heartbeat quickened as the timing became clear. It had been about two and a half months since you’d arrived in this universe, just before the Kim Kingdom’s celebration and the appearance of the curses. Now, only Wooyoung and San kingdoms remained untouched by the strange wave of misfortune sweeping through these lands.

“What about the Jung Kingdom? When is their anniversary?” you pressed.

Her gaze flicked to a makeshift calendar pinned on the wall, eyebrows drawn in thought. “I’m not certain… but I believe the kingdoms celebrate with about three months’ difference between them. My friend mentioned that the Jung Kingdom was the first to celebrate, followed by the JeoKang, then the Kim Kingdom—”

A realization struck like lightning. “San!” you exclaimed, standing up so suddenly that a sharp pain shot through your leg, making you wince. Your mother’s brows drew together in a frown as she urged you to sit down, her eyes laced with concern.

“I don’t know what’s on your mind, but you must stay focused,” she cautioned. “You’re here for a reason. Find it and don’t let anything deter you.”

Her words anchored you as you sank back into your chair, feeling the weight of her advice settle in. A growing determination flickered within you, strengthening your resolve. You were piecing together a story that seemed set on a tragic course, yet you knew now that you could change its path.

You are starting to think that this story you are trying to navigate to its happy ending has its fixed plot yet an unidentified ending. 

“Just because we’re in a different universe doesn’t mean you have privileges. Think about living but with more control of what you can do.” You nodded, smiling, “Just one more thing,” you murmured, and she raised a curious brow. “Could I borrow a lamp?”

That afternoon, after your mother’s insistence on caution and Hyunjin’s pleas to accompany you, you set out alone. Her worried gaze lingered on you as she pressed the small lantern into your hand, her fingers grazing your cheek with a gentle touch.

“Please be careful. You could have just let this pass first so you can heal your leg.” You look down at your casted leg but you sigh, looking back up at her, “I don’t have much time mom. I don’t know if I have two weeks or less before the Choi Kingdom faces their curse wave— it could be worse than that but let’s not hope for it.”

She sighs knowing that you were right as much as she wants you to be scolded, she only gave you the lamp that you were requesting. Her hand hovers on your cheeks, a smile on your lips as she leans in and places a sweet kiss on your forehead, leaning her forehead to yours, “Come back home, okay?”

Your throat tightened, but you smiled and nodded, whispering, “I always come back home.”

After a few teary departures, you made your way to the palace. The trees swayed gently in the wind, shadows played across the forest path as you climbed the stairs to the palace doors, feeling a chill roll over you as you crossed the threshold, you huffed glaring at the stairs before you pushed the door open. 

The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft creak of the ancient door as it closed behind you. You made your way towards the throne. The two thrones, like always, were covered in vines, dried or new. You sigh, brushing a dried leaf, only for the vines to writhe and retract, curling defensively around the throne as though it were a living creature. Your eyes widen as you let go, looking at the vines, you only now realize how they were moving so slowly up close like snakes circling its prey. 

“Woah …”you whispered, tracing the vines with your gaze, saw that much of the vines were everywhere, the floor, the walls and up to the ceiling, following some of them and it leads you to a broken floor to ceiling window that leads outside— a garden park of the palace.

Outside, the remnants of grandeur lay in ruins. The bushes dried, rusty chair set ups and water of the fountain had either dried out or were full of moss. You walk down the rocky path, the rocks crashing underneath your foot. Yet in the midst of decay stood a statue, tall and proud—carved likenesses of the two brothers, Yunho and Yeosang. Their expressions were solemn yet kind, and as you looked up at them, an eerie silence settled over the garden.

“Where have you both disappeared?”you whispered to the statue, feeling the weight of their absence. At that moment, an eagle’s piercing cry shattered the stillness. You looked up, startled, to see the bird perched atop Yunho’s stone head, blinking down at you.

As crazy as it sounds and in a moment of desperation, you cupped your hands around your mouth and called,  “Do you know where the brothers are?” It only looks at you, blinking. You knew you won’t gain anything but you were expecting at least a lead but of course, not everything is laid out for you.

Sighing, your hands fell on your side as you made your way to sit on the bench. You look around, at least trying to find something that will help you find another clue. You lean back on the bench, sighing as you look up on the statue, “Just tell me where you guys are. We don’t have ti— AHH!” The bench you were sitting on suddenly tilted backwards and you were greeted with darkness but you can feel your back and yourself sliding downwards in a speed.

You were screeching until you suddenly halted into a stop. You cough when you realize you were now laying down on your back and dirt dust everywhere, you slowly pushed yourself up as you swat your hand in the air, coughing until everything was clear yet it was dark. 

You look around, barely seeing anything, sighing as you know what you have to use. You look down to your hand, “Don’t fail me now.” With a flick of your wrist, a small amount of flame ignited. You chuckle in disbelief as you rose your hand up to your face, “Well at least you’re still here.”

The dim light revealed rough walls and a narrow corridor, seemingly untouched by time. As you turned, preparing to move forward, a face appeared mere inches away from yours, startling you into a scream. You stumbled back, pain flaring in your injured leg.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”  came a gentle voice, filled with both apology and surprise. You look up in shock. You were either seeing things because of the dark or because of your desperation to find the brothers or the answer of their disappearance.

Through the dim light, you took in the figure before you. In front of you, clad in the same outfit as the rest of the cousins— but this one covered in dirt, is Jeong Yunho. You take in his appearance and it seems like he did go missing for a long time as his feet were no longer covered in shoes and bare instead, clothes torn and covered in different dust and the dishevelled look on him. 

“Prince Yunho?!” Even with his appearance, he still bows to you formally. “As you call.” 

“How… How long have you been here?” You tried to stand, but the pain pulsed through your body, forcing you back down. Heart pounding, you looked up at Yunho, his face framed by the dim light. He noticed the strain in your expression and lowered himself to your level, a gentle insistence in his eyes. “Please, stay seated.”

His gaze softened, a flicker of hope breaking through the weariness etched on his face. “I don’t know exactly, my lady. Ever since that night, daylight hasn’t reached me again.”

Settling yourself more comfortably, you extended a hand between the two of you, as if bridging the gap of lost time. “The night of your coronation anniversary?”

Yunho shook his head with a sad, almost nostalgic chuckle. “No, not quite. That was a misunderstanding. The kingdom celebrated its anniversary, not our coronation. But over time, people began to think of them as one and the same.”

The air grew heavier as silence settled around you both, layered with the weight of shared understanding, secrets unspoken yet felt. You took a steadying breath, finally daring to voice what lingered between you. “Were you… cursed?”

His eyes widened, a momentary spark of shock and recognition passing over them as he processed your question. “How did you…?” he began, before trailing off, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s… complicated,” you admitted, feeling the strange familiarity of the moment. “I may not be from here, but I am here to help. To save you… all of you.”

A glimmer of fragile hope illuminated Yunho’s face, his eyes brightening with a feeling he had long forgotten. It was as if, after all this time, the shadows that had ensnared him were finally loosening their grip. Memories of his brother’s distant, desperate calls flooded his mind—the last trace of family he had clung to, and his one worry left in the dark, still haunting him. But now, as you sat here, he felt a warmth flooding him, the promise of deliverance finally within reach. He looked at you, his voice a soft murmur of gratitude. “Thank you…”

With a gentle smile, you extended your hand, offering the simplest of introductions to solidify your shared resolve. “I’m Brigid.”

Yunho took your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours with surprising warmth. For the first time since he’d been trapped, something beyond despair welled up within him—a new dawn, rising slowly but surely.

One week later…

Jongho jolted awake to the lively sounds of bustling footsteps and voices just outside his door. Still groggy, he rubbed his eyes and shuffled to the doorway, squinting in surprise at the sight of maids rushing back and forth, carrying gowns, trays, and elaborate decorations. He barely had a moment to register the commotion before stumbling back, almost colliding with San, who appeared suddenly, flanked by Hongjoong and Wooyoung.

“Ah…” Jongho muttered, confused, as San nudged him back into his room. Hongjoong’s critical gaze swept over him, eyes narrowed with appraisal as he circled him like a hawk assessing its prey. Shifting awkwardly, Jongho asked, “Uh… Is something going on here?”

Wooyoung squealed with excitement, darting to Jongho’s wardrobe. He threw open the closet doors, rummaging through clothes with impressive speed—some landing on the bed, others strewn across the floor. San, calmer but clearly amused, simply shrugged and said, “It’s the kingdom’s anniversary. You’re expected to join the ball tonight. It’s a big event.”

“Ball? Anniversary?” Jongho echoed, furrowing his brows. “Wait, no one told me about this.”

Without missing a beat, Wooyoung approached, reaching to smooth Jongho’s hair. Jongho instinctively leaned back, bumping into the doorframe, only to feel Hongjoong’s hands firmly grip his shoulders as he expertly measured Jongho’s torso. 

“Our kingdom celebrates this every year,” San explained, watching as Jongho gradually accepted the preparations. “It’s a tribute to our founders, honoring their sacrifices and dedication. A tradition to remind us of who we are.”

Jongho looked at San, his intrigue growing. “And the ball… it’s part of this, too?”

San nodded, a hint of nostalgia in his expression. “Yes. The ball is a symbol of unity and strength, with dances to show honor. Offering one’s hand to a woman signifies a promise to protect and cherish her heart.”

A mix of admiration and nerves stirred in Jongho as he glanced at his friends. “You’ll be there too, right?” he asked, eyes flicking to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s usual brightness dimmed, his gaze softening as a bittersweet smile crossed his face. “Yes… This time, I won’t leave.”

He turned away, and his fingers absentmindedly brushed his collar as his thoughts drifted. He remembered the last time he’d seen you, a memory laced with anguish. You had clung to him, crying, as he lay gravely injured. Since then, he had scoured every corner of the land, calling on the winds for guidance, each attempt ending in frustration and heartache. When the Kim family had allowed you to embark on that ill-fated journey, he’d confronted them, fury simmering beneath his composed exterior. Hongjoong’s words still haunted him: *“Predicting the future doesn’t mean avoiding it. Sometimes, we have to face it, no matter the cost.”*

Hongjoong, too, had been shaken when he learned of your disappearance, an unexpected pang of sorrow piercing his heart despite knowing you only as “the savior.” Even Noella had been taken aback, realizing that while they could foresee certain events, some paths remained hidden in the mist—part of a larger, elusive fate.

A quiet voice interrupted Wooyoung’s thoughts. “Woo…”

He glanced in the mirror, meeting San’s concerned gaze. Wooyoung’s distance from everyone, even from San—his closest cousin and confidant—had not gone unnoticed. San understood; he knew the ache of a missing friend, a piece of one’s life suddenly gone.

“You should be with your father by now, welcoming the guests,” Wooyoung said, his voice unintentionally cold, though he didn’t mean it. A trace of bitterness lingered—San had been part of the mission that had taken you from them.

San sighed, nodding slowly. “Woo, I’m sorry. I promised I’d protect her, to make up for my past mistakes… I really did try.” He looked away, guilt casting a shadow over his face. “Head Guard Seonghwa’s made some progress—he’s on his way to Yunho and Yeosang’s kingdom tonight, following a lead.”

Wooyoung’s tense posture softened, and he turned to face San fully. “I hope… I hope they bring us good news.”

The weight of unspoken words settled between them, and Wooyoung felt his own exhaustion seeping through. His eyes softened as he looked at San. “San, I’m… sorry too.”

San, recognizing Wooyoung’s vulnerability, stepped closer and pulled him into a brotherly embrace. “You’re not alone, Woo. I’m here, Jongho’s here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Wooyoung let out a small, choked laugh, feeling a bit of the heaviness lift as he thought of Jongho, who had recently stumbled into their world and was adjusting with endearing reluctance. San ruffled his hair playfully, breaking the somber mood, and made for the door. Wooyoung shot him an annoyed look, batting San’s hand away.

“Yah! Do you know how long it took me to get my hair perfect?” he protested, turning back to the mirror to fix it.

San smirked, his playful jab lightening the room’s atmosphere. Just before leaving, he poked his head back in with a mischievous grin. “Better hurry up! Your mother’s here, and she expects you to help greet the guests.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, spinning around in shock. “Wait—she’s what?!”

After what felt like an endless journey through the dim, damp tunnels, you finally emerged into the late afternoon light. Yunho blinked, shielding his eyes as the sunlight washed over him. It was as though he had been reborn, stepping from a shadowed past into a world that seemed painfully bright. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the warmth, savoring the air with deep breaths, as if he were inhaling hope itself.

But his relief was short-lived. His gaze fell upon the once-vibrant palace grounds, now overtaken by silence and decay. The gardens he remembered as lush and colorful were now choked with weeds and vines, abandoned and forgotten. His heart sank, his shoulders drooping as the reality of his kingdom’s abandonment struck him like a physical blow. He whispered, almost to himself, "Everyone… left."

You glanced over at him, feeling the weight of his despair settle in your chest. Words felt useless in the face of such loss, yet you reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “True loyalty remains,” you said gently. “Sometimes, even when all hope seems gone, that loyalty endures. And those with kindness can still revive it.”

Yunho looked at you, your words reaching past his sorrow. A small, grateful smile softened his expression. “Thank you, Brigid,” he murmured, the name holding a new depth as he regarded you with a trust and fondness that hadn’t been there before.

Just then, a familiar cry pierced the air. Yunho’s head snapped up, his face lighting up with a joy that was startling in its intensity. He extended his arm, and an eagle swooped down, landing gracefully on his forearm. Yunho chuckled, stroking the bird’s proud feathers with a tender hand. “Aven,” he said, relief and affection flooding his voice.

You smiled at the sight, noting the uncanny resemblance between the two. Aven’s feathers—faded blond and brown, like sun-kissed earth—seemed to mirror Yunho’s own windswept hair. “He must have been searching for you all this time,” you murmured, marveling at the loyalty between them.

With a warm laugh, Yunho lifted his arm, letting Aven take flight once more. The bird circled above, as if signaling there was still work to be done. Yunho’s face grew serious, the joy fading as he looked back at you. “He knows there’s one more person to find.” His eyes met yours, determination flickering like fire. “Will you help me find my brother?”

You hesitated, caught between relief and the daunting journey ahead. Part of you longed to return, to bring back the fragments of hope you had gathered. But something deeper bound you to this place—a feeling that this mission was far from complete and that both kingdoms, perhaps even more lives, hung in the balance.

Steeling yourself, you met his gaze. “Yunho, I don’t often ask for favors in return for my sake, but I’ll need your assistance. And it’s not only for me. This search affects you, your brother, and the fate of your kingdom.”

A flicker of understanding crossed Yunho’s face, and he nodded, accepting the weight of your words and the sudden weight of his invisible crown. “Anything, Miss Brigid. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

With a deep breath, you pressed on. “Once we find your brother, I need answers. I need to know the truth about Brigid and the curse that haunts your people.” His expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and reluctance. Few dared to speak openly of the goddess or the curse, words whispered only in shadowed corners and distant memories. But he sensed your resolve and, with a nod, accepted the responsibility of revealing the buried past.

Side by side, you moved toward the palace, each step a deeper descent into the kingdom’s forgotten secrets. The once-grand hallways were draped in vines, twisting over marble columns and intricate carvings. Green tendrils clung to the walls like unnatural veins, as though the palace itself were bound and suffocated by its own sorrow.

When you brushed one of the vines, it recoiled with a sharp hiss, startling both you and Yunho. “This isn’t normal, is it?” you asked, watching as the vine writhed like a living creature.

Yunho shook his head, his expression wary. “These vines… they’re like cursed sentinels. They sense intruders and cling to whatever life they find.” The vines seemed to shift and sway as you followed them, leading you deeper into the forgotten parts of the palace, places even Yunho rarely ventured.

The air grew colder, and an unsettling stillness wrapped around you as shadows deepened. Finally, the vines guided you to a hidden chamber, one untouched by time but heavily guarded by thick, twisting roots. At its center, wrapped in a monstrous snarl of vines and shadow, lay Yunho’s brother, Yeosang, imprisoned and barely recognizable.

Yunho’s breath caught in his throat, a strangled cry escaping him as he stumbled forward. “Yeosang…” he whispered, desperation and fear cracking his voice. 

You placed a steadying hand on Yunho’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way to release him. But first, we must understand what binds him here.”

“Yeo!” Yunho’s voice echoed, his shout piercing the eerie silence of the garden. The ground trembled, and the twisted vines around you seemed to awaken with a hiss, vibrating with a sinister life of their own. Both you and Yunho stepped back instinctively as the vines, now alive and hostile, wriggled and coiled, their barbed edges glinting like sharp fangs in the faint light. They were no ordinary plants; they guarded something—someone—with a fierce, unnatural protectiveness. Your gaze darted to Yeosang’s unconscious body, entangled and held captive within the thick, snakelike tendrils. Though he lay still, his chest rose and fell in a faint rhythm; he was alive.

Suddenly, you felt a vine wrap around your ankle, squeezing tighter against your injury. You gasped, clawing and pulling at it, but the more you struggled, the tighter it constricted. “Miss Brigid!” Yunho’s voice drew your attention. You looked over to see him, arms and legs bound by more vines, his face contorted in pain as he fought against their relentless grip.

“Yunho…” you gasped, panic rising as more vines slithered around your legs, winding their way up slowly, each movement deliberate, as though savoring your terror. The thorned tendrils crawled across your torso, tightening across your ribs, climbing toward your neck. Your breathing grew shallow as your hands, trembling, attempted to pry them loose.

“Yunho… Is this Yeosang’s curse?” you managed to ask, straining to keep your voice steady amidst your fear.

Yunho struggled to respond, his voice muffled by the vines encasing him. “From what I’ve seen… yes, it must be! But I don’t know how it works!” His answer sparked a desperate search through your mind, grasping for any memory, any detail from books you’d read about Prince Yeosang. But the histories were vague, shedding light only on his gentle nature, his love for peace, and his connection to the garden—the very place that now seemed to be his prison.

“Yeosangie … He is always a kind prince to everyone.” Yunho muffles as he struggles within the hold of the vines, his voice tinged with sorrow. His face softened in memory, and for a brief moment, you saw the look of a brother missing his sibling’s laughter and light-hearted innocence. “The garden … that his place. His solace.” 

The words hung in the air, lingering like a clue. You turned them over in your mind—kindness, the garden, a place of solace. And then it clicked. The curse wasn’t harming Yeosang; it was protecting him, preserving him in twisted vines of his own making, his kindness turned into a trap to keep him safe yet hidden from the world.

“Kill them with kindness… “ You whisper. You look at the vines as they are starting to tighten, “Yunho … “ He was trapped underneath the garden of his brother because he was the hope. The sun shines but it never reaches the townspeople because all hope was lost because that was Yunho’s curse. He was the hope of people and by hiding him from the darkness, hope cannot be found until someone kind finds his way. 

Hope is the last one to find. Just like Pandora's box. It all started clicking together as you chuckle airly as it felt all too well and good to finally solve. 

“Kill them with kindness they say …” Desperate, you closed your eyes, focusing inward, summoning the warmth that lay dormant in you. You rotated your wrists, a small flame flickering to life in your hands. The light immediately drew a reaction—the vines hissed and shrank back, loosening just enough to let you wriggle free.

And with the light, the vines all hisses away from you, letting you go in the process. With a painful thud, you hit the ground, looking up at the glowing flame in your hand, “Argh!”

You stood up, patting your butt, “Geez … Okay Yunho .. this might sting!”  You raise your fist, the flames dance across your knuckles, you smirk your eyebrows arching in surprise, “Good to know you are still with me.”

With a swift punch, you drove the fire into the thickest part of the vines. They screeched, the flames burning through their dark coils, and they immediately released Yunho, dropping him unceremoniously to the ground.

His heart pounded as he took in your appearance. A fist of fire in a blue dress and fiery hair. He had never seen it coming true in his life, it was just an image in his dreams and now, “Brigid …” Yunho’s eyes widened as he took in your power, but before he could fully process it, the vines twisted into a frenzy, reacting to the flames with an even fiercer rage. They writhed and snapped, lashing out at anything within reach, their movements erratic and frenzied as they sought to defend their hold on Yeosang. 

“I’ll explain later,” you shouted over the chaotic noise. “But I figured it out—Yeosang’s curse is a twisted kindness, one that traps him in this garden for his own protection… And you, Yunho—you’re the kingdom’s hope. That’s why the darkness was drawn here, to hide you away.”

“Pandora’s box …” Yunho mumbles as it becomes clear to him too. He was a man full of hope and dreams to his kingdom yet when the time he was buried under the depths of the garden, it felt like a part of him had vanished, making him weak and fragile until light— you came.

“We just have to finish this and see if we can deal with more of your curses.” You focused on keeping the flames steady, the heat radiating from your hands as you burned through the thick vines that coiled around Yunho's brother. But as you burned away one tangle, another would rise up from the darkness, snapping viciously. It was a relentless fight, and even with the flames, the vines seemed almost endless, replenishing themselves with every inch you gained.

Pain flared up your leg, making you falter, “Shit …” Yunho looked at you but you brushed him off as you fought, a thick vine crept silently along the ground, slithering behind you, its barbed surface gleaming in the dim light. You were too focused on the vines in front of you to notice it as it reared back, preparing to strike. But Yunho’s sharp gaze caught it just in time.

“Watch out!” he shouted, darting forward with a speed that surprised you.

In one swift motion, Yunho grabbed your shoulder, pulling you out of harm’s way, and held you close to his chest as he thrust his sword forward— to which you do not know where it came from but it did— intercepting the vine just before it could strike, its thorned edge narrowly missing your side. The vine hissed in fury as it met the steel of Yunho’s blade, twisting wildly as it tried to pull back. But Yunho held firm, gritting his teeth as he forced the sword deeper, severing the vine in one powerful motion. 

“They’re faster than they look,” he warned, his gaze intense as he positioned himself protectively in front of you.

A surge of vines lunged toward him, their thorned edges aimed directly at him. Yunho swung his blade with precision, slicing through each tendril as they came, his movements fluid yet fierce. He fought with a desperate strength, each strike filled with a sense of duty, as if protecting you was his only mission. But the vines were relentless, and for every one he cut down, two more seemed to replace it, their thorny coils trying to wrap around him, restricting his movements.

Seeing him struggle, you summoned your flames once again, directing a burst of heat toward the vines attacking him. The fire danced along the vines, burning them away from Yunho’s path. He gave you a quick nod of gratitude before pressing forward, slicing through another wave of snapping tendrils.

Suddenly, a larger vine burst from the shadows, its thick, snake-like body heading straight toward you with blinding speed. Yunho’s eyes widened, and he lunged, catching the vine mid-air with his sword. But this one was stronger, and the force of the impact knocked him back a step. The vine coiled around his blade, trying to wrest it from his grip.

Struggling against the vine’s strength, Yunho gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he pushed back, determination blazing in his eyes. “I’m not letting them take you,” he muttered, driving his blade deeper into the vine as he twisted it free with a powerful shove.

The vine recoiled, thrashing as it retreated, but not before lashing out in one last attempt. In a final burst of strength, it snapped toward you, the barbed end hurtling in your direction. Without a moment’s hesitation, Yunho stepped in, shielding you with his own body as the vine’s thorns sliced across his shoulder, leaving a shallow but painful cut.

Ignoring the pain, he pushed you behind him, raising his sword defensively. “Stay close to me,” he commanded, his voice low but fierce.

With Yunho guarding your back, you focused on your flames, pouring every ounce of your energy into the fire, illuminating the entire chamber with an intense glow. The vines hissed and recoiled, unable to withstand the flames’ heat. You directed the fire toward the thick, coiled mass that held Yeosang, watching as the flames burned away the final layer of vines.

Finally, with one last searing blaze, the vines shriveled and fell away, leaving Yeosang’s unconscious form free at last. His pale face was covered in dirt and faint scratches, but he was breathing.

You both moved quickly, Yunho helping to lift his brother while keeping an eye on any remaining vines. His shoulder was still bleeding, but he waved off your concern, his focus solely on getting his brother to safety.

As you left the chamber, a sense of triumph and relief settled over you. Yunho glanced at you, a faint smile breaking through the exhaustion on his face.

“He’s okay,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. You sigh in relief, your flames disappearing as you knelt beside Yunho as you took in Yeosang’s feature. Aside from your friends and Seniors in your university— Yeosang is a stranger to you. Yet his statue, perfect tan skin and his plump lips made him still look so handsome despite being confined in the vines for more than many months now. You look out of the window to see the sun had already set.

“Yunho, I may know someone that can help you both for tonight.”

Standing with a small smile on your lips as your mother gasps quietly on her spot before moving towards the living room, “Come in! I’ll prepare the living room!” As you enter her home, Yunho carries an unconscious Yeosang inside, guiding them as Yunho settles him on the soft cushions of the sofa. You watched her work, feeling a sense of comfort in the familiarity of her presence. 

You watch to the side whilst your mother speaks to Yunho as he helps your mother clean Yeosang up.

“They’re okay…” You look at Hyunjin as her mouth was gape open, gazing at the two princes whilst squeezing her doll. Your eyes trailed on the doll then remembering the images, the stained mirror back in the palace. 

“Hyunjin…” you murmured, kneeling beside her. “Do I… look like her?” The question felt strange, as if pulled from a memory you didn’t quite own.

Hyunjin giggled, her innocent eyes sparkling. “She is you.”

“Brigid …” Your eyes travel to your mother, she looks worn out after taking care of the two princes. You smile at her, placing a hand on Hyunjin’s head as you and your mother move towards the outside of the house. 

Later, as the house settled into quiet, your mother joined you outside. The night air was brisk, and the stars seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light. She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You did well, honey,” she murmured, a note of pride in her voice.

The night had grown colder, the wind had picked up the pace as it blew harsher coldness. You sigh, removing your coat to place it on your mother, it was just a thin coat you got from Lucy.  “Prince Yeosang is okay, dehydrated and malnourished but he will be fine as for Prince Yunho, he is doing well, slightly shaken up but he will be fine.” You nodded as you looked around. Silence covers you both like a blanket but your mother has spoken again.

“Did you find out about their curse?” You nodded, “Prince Yeosang wasn’t cursed but his kindness is what held him captive and Yunho had been trapped in his own misery.” Your mother nodded as she smiled at you.

You leaned on your mother, “How can I break their curse and set them free?” Your mother sighs, placing a comforting hand on top of your head, soothing you down.

“That is for them to know and you to find out honey.” You sigh deeply, looking up at the night sky. 

“It’s hard to keep going when you don’t have a clue…” Your mother’s face softened, taking in the weight of your words. She didn’t know everything happening around you, only that this place had changed in unexpected ways over the years.

“I know,” she said, “but what I do know…” She gently grasped your shoulders, turning you to face her as her comforting gaze met yours. “I know my daughter wouldn’t give up so easily, no matter the challenges, even if she gets hurt…” Her eyes flicked down to your injured ankle, prompting a small chuckle from you before she continued. “Or lost…”

“Or pressured,” she added, “she always finds her way back to her own path.” Tears welled in your eyes as you smiled, and you pulled her into a tight hug, taking in the familiar warmth and scent of her embrace. Suddenly, Hyunjin came running out of the house, panic flashing in her eyes.

“Mommy! Prince Yunho and Prince Yeosang are acting strange!” You exchanged a quick glance with your mother before both of you dashed inside.

You froze, heart pounding, as you took in the scene around you. Dark, twisting vines had invaded the house, snaking up from the floorboards and crawling across the walls, relentless and alive. They slithered in through the windows, curling around furniture and creeping up the wooden beams, consuming every inch of the space they touched. They were just like the ones you’d seen before, but this time, they seemed angrier, more menacing—alive with a dark energy that made the air heavy and hard to breathe.

In the center of it all, Yunho stood motionless, ensnared by the thickest of the vines. His arms were pinned to his sides, and one thick tendril coiled around his face, covering his eyes, leaving him helpless and vulnerable. His usually calm, reassuring presence was now ghostly, as if he were barely there at all, swallowed by the curse that had wrapped itself around him.

“Yunho…” you called out, voice trembling. You took a tentative step forward, but a loud hiss from the vines echoed through the room, sharp and angry, halting you in your tracks. Instinctively, you threw your arm out in front of your mother, trying to protect her as best as you could from whatever dark magic was at play. She gasped, clutching your arm tightly.

“The curse… it’s active,” you whispered, each word heavy with dread. An icy fear curled around your heart as the realization set in. The wave you’d been dreading about—the one that would mark the Choi Kingdom’s celebration—had begun. A week had slipped by, and now the curse was moving, bringing with it a darkness that threatened to engulf everything.

You barely heard your mother calling out to you; her voice sounded faint, as if coming from a distance. A ringing filled your ears, drowning out her words and every other sound in the room. Fear sank into your bones, leaving you rooted to the spot. Shadows seemed to grow and dance at the edges of your vision, and a series of whispers, low and insidious, began echoing in your mind.

The whispers told you of failure, of helplessness, feeding into every doubt that had ever lingered within you. They spoke of the princes’ fates, of the doom that awaited them—all because of you. A hollow ache filled your chest as the shadows convinced you that you had failed them all, that you would never be enough to save them. You couldn’t even save Yunho, who now stood before you, trapped and silent.

The light in your eyes dimmed as the weight of these thoughts pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. Everything blurred, colors fading into shadow. But then, through the haze, you caught a flicker of movement.

Yeosang was watching you, his gaze piercing through the darkness as he stepped toward you. There was something steady, unwavering, in his eyes—an intensity that broke through the fear clouding your mind.

“Wake up…” His voice was soft, yet it cut through the whispers, grounding you back into the moment. His hand reached out, and you felt a sudden, forceful tug, as if he were pulling you from the depths of a dark ocean.

The world spun as you were yanked backward, and then you felt yourself falling. You hit the dirt outside, the cold earth grounding you as the ringing in your ears finally ceased. Blinking rapidly, you became aware of Hyunjin’s distressed cries somewhere nearby. The sharp pang of reality jolted you fully awake, and you looked around, dazed and disoriented.

Your mother knelt beside you, concern etched across her face as she helped you sit up. “Honey? Oh my!” Her hands clutched your shoulders, and the warmth of her touch anchored you, steadying your racing heart.

You reached out instinctively, grasping her arm, grounding yourself in her familiar presence. As you did, a looming shadow fell over you. Startled, you turned to find yourself ranking your eyes upwards, standing just a few feet away, watching you with a serious, unreadable expression.

“M-Mingi?” you stammered.

taglist: @passerbyforfun . @seongwars . @candied-czennie . @ffenjoyerdazme

[eand47]

Chapter III | Don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid (more to be add)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of weed, explicit language, sexual content, MINORS INTERACT ON YOUR OWN RISK (16+)

Word Count: 12,9K

<- previous chapter

NOTE: This chapter contains a lot of dialogues. More characters are being properly introduced. I don’t want to rush things between Reader and Ace as obviously by now it is a slow-burn story, but from this chapter on you will have more and more interaction between them. I still don’t want to let you entirely into Ace’s mind, as with time all of the things he does and says will have more logic as of why, I just hope that you will be patient enough until then. I’m sure a lot of you might have expected a smut for this chapter, but you will be disappointed, as we are far away from one at least for now xD. Please feel free to leave comments about how you feel about the story and the characters relationship. Also if you enjoy the way I write always feel free to request an image, one-shot or a headcanon and if I have the time I would love to write it <3 I really hope you enjoy the chapter ^^

“You were right about the picture for the exercise.” Usopp exclaimed when we were leaving class.

“I guess it is the same every year.” We were going to grab a lunch, as our lunchbreak started.

“Are we going back after?” he asked me. It was only him and I here from our assign group, everyone else was sick or not at university today, even Nami.

“Yes, I was going to ask you the same.” I thought for a second if we should go back or call the rest of the day off. We were not having any class with a teacher after, but we were supposed to start writing the story for the exercise today. “Let’s stay and do the story, as we can’t know who is coming tomorrow, and I don’t want to waste time, as we should be done with it by Friday morning.”

“Yeah, we should do that.” He agreed with me, opening the door to the cafeteria and letting me go first. “But what if they don’t like what we come up with?”

“Then they should have been here.” I snorted out. We grabbed some food and sat down in one of the corner tables. Usopp yawned, he locked so tired today.

“All good with you? You look so tired.” I asked him concerned. “Please, don’t get sick and leave me here alone.” I whined and he chuckled at my reaction.

“No, I’m not getting sick. Don’t worry.” He reassured me. “I just had so many things to do over the weekend and didn’t have much time to spend with Kaya, so I tried to make it up to her last night, and I’ve slept for like three-four hours.” He explained, running a hand over his face, trying not to fall asleep.

“Oh, you were making it up to her.” I tease him, wiggling my eyebrows playfully.

“Shut up.” He shushed me, throwing a napkin towards me as I was messing with him.

“What were you busy with this weekend?” I took a bite of my food, curios at what he had done over the weekend that took so much of his time and energy.

“First, I had to go back to my hometown. My mom needed help with moving and selling some old furniture, we had around the house.” He took a bite of his own food. “Then when I came back Luffy’s brothers called me and wanted my help for a song they are releasing at the end of this week.” A little smile twitched on my lips as he mentioned the guys, Ace’s face appearing on my mind. “But something happened with the program we were using for the final touches, so long story short, it took my whole day to restore the files. Ah, anyway how about you?” He brushed it off, not really in the mood to talk about it.

“Nothing interesting. I barely left my place; I was watching movies and napping.” I shrugged. My weekend was quite boring this passed week. Especially the day after I worked at the bar. Shanks made me stay extra time to help around cleaning. Speaking of Shanks, his words about Ace haven’t left my mind, neither did Ace. I caught myself thinking about him from time to time and the little interaction we had.

“Oh, I’m so jealous.” Usopp whined, interrupted my thoughts. He slouched his body on the table, crying for sleep.

“Come one let’s get you some coffee from somewhere.” I cooed, patting his head, making him get up from the chair.

“I’m telling you I almost fall asleep during class.” He stretched his body, trying to wake it up.

We took our stuffs and went to grab some coffee, from the near by cafe. Waiting on the queue to get coffee, we were discussing our project.

“Think about it – a tour in a medieval museum.” Usopp suggested, but I was still not convinced enough.

“I don’t know, I think quite lot of people have already thought of this.”

The weather was quite chilly today. I couldn’t stop shivering, but Usopp didn’t seem affected by it as he was wearing just a green hoodie.

“Yes, but we don’t need the most original idea.” He was right about this. We needed something simple as we were not sure if everyone from our group would be here for the rest of the week.

“How about a man who has nightmares of being tortured in his dreams, and he is calm at first, only to realise that this is actually real this time.” I suggested, as I was sure no one would think of it.

“Good idea, but...” Usopp paused looking at me. “Mine is better.” We said together, laughing at our inside joke. “Let’s get the coffee, and we will decide when we go back. You want one as well? He asked me as it was his turn to order. I needed something warm to drink, so I accepted his offer. He bought me one and I thanked him. As we were walking to one of the sound rooms in school, we saw a big poster hanged on one of the walls.

“Look, they are having a Halloween party this week in here.” I excitedly turned to look at Usopp. “I have lost track of time so bad I have forgotten that Halloween is this week. We should go!”

“Oh God, I forgot to tell you.” Usopp slapped his forehead. “Luffy told me to invite you to the party his brothers are throwing for Halloween. So, we are going to that one and you are coming with us!” He pointed his finger at me, letting me know that he would not take ‘no’ for an answer.

“But I have met them only once, Usopp. I will feel awkward just standing there not knowing anyone, at least here I know people.” I looked at the Halloween poster again. Here I have classmates that I know, even thought they were not as close to me as Nami and Usopp, it still will be less uncomfortable and awkward to be around them.

“What do you mean, you don’t know anyone there?” Usopp grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. “You know me, Nami and the rest of the group now. Luffy told me to invite you himself. On top of it you know his brothers and the rest of the band.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we started to walk down the corridor. “Come on, Kaya is also going to be there. You will be surrounded by people who you know.” We entered the sound studio, leaving our bags on the side and taking seat on the chairs. “Come on (Y/N), that party will be ten times better than the one here.” He nagged me.

“Look I will think about it, okay? But no promises.” I tried to negotiate with him.

“Nah, I’m not taking a ‘no’ for an answer.” He wasn’t planning on giving up. “I’m letting Nami know, I’m too soft.” He pulled out his phone and started to text Nami.

“No, Usopp stop!” I grabbed the phone from his hands. “I will think about it – I promise.” I put his phone on the desk. “I will see, I might don’t go to neither of the parties, as I totally forgot that Halloween is coming up, and I don’t have any costume.”

“Nah, that’s it I’m letting Nami know.” He grabbed his phone from the desk again and I just gave up arguing about it. “Done – I sent her a message.” Putting his phone away, he looked at me seriously. “You gonna see, you will have a lot of fun, I promise you.” He winked. “Now back to work.” He clapped his hands, and I rolled my eyes at him.

Halloween is my favourite day of the year – of course I want to dress up and go to party somewhere. Especially the one I got invited to just now. Even without nagging me, I knew that Usopp was right. The problem wasn’t the party, it was the fact that Ace would be there. I wanted to meet him again, but I was also nervous. We have barely spoken, but there was something luring me towards him – something that I couldn’t put my fingers on what it was. It was more than the way he looks that was for sure. I really wanted to get the chance of knowing him. He might turn out like the other guys I have met before – a pretty face and nothing more, but I can’t know until we get to know each other. Just thinking about him made me both excited and nervous.

“Earth to (Y/N).” Usopp waved his hand in my face, bringing me back to reality. “You, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I took out my laptop so we can start writing the script. “So, we are going with my idea, right?” I glanced at Usopp.

“Mine is better but, sure.”

*******

I opened the fridge and sighed deeply, seeing that I have nothing left in it. I hesitated for a second if I should order or go to the store. I needed to buy food anyway, so I grabbed my headphones, my keys and left.

The store was ten minutes walk away from my apartment. I was taking my time wandering through the aisles, it’s not like I had anything to do at home. Passing by the cereals I saw a familiar face. I wasn’t sure if I should go and greet him or not, as we have only met once, but he saw me anyway.

“(Y/N)” Luffy greeted me with a smile, taking his headphones off and I did the same.

“Hey Luffy, nice to see you again.” I smiled at him.

“Yeah, nice to see you as well. How are you?” He asked me.

“I’m good, a little tired from uni, but good.” I chuckled. “How about you?”

“Same.” He shrugged. “Going over to my brother Ace to play some games but stop to buy some snacks.” My body got goosebumps when he mentioned his brother’s name. I looked at the basket in his hands and it was overfloating with snacks.

“Damn, that’s a lot of snacks, are you throwing a party?” I joked.

“Nah, just us two but we eat for like ten people.” We both laughed at his joke. I took a better look at Luffy and noticed how much he and Ace look alike.

“Well, he better lives close by, so you don’t need to carry all of this.” I casually said, but I was curious if by any chance we might end up being neighbours.

“Oh, I wish Ace lived this close by but no, I will have to catch the metro to get to his place.”

“What are you doing in this part of town then?” I asked.

“I live here, my place is exactly next to the supermarket.”  

“Nice, we are almost neighbours.” I exclaimed.

“Cool.” Luffy smiled. “By the way, did Usopp told you about the party this Friday?” He got excited mentioning the party.

“Yeah, he did today, but I’m not sure if I will come.” I awkwardly smiled at him.

“What? Why? No!” He was not happy with my answer. “What do you mean, you are not sure if you should come? You are coming! You, see? Easy, peasy.” He bumped his fist on my shoulder, a grin spread across his face.

“As I said to Usopp – I will think about it.” I mocked his gestured.

“Ouch, you are strong.” Luffy massaged his shoulder, pretending to be hurt. “But come on, there isn’t much to think of it, plus if you really don’t like it, you can leave any time you want.” This was the second time we meet, but talking with him felt so natural – his friendly and carefree persona could make everyone feel safe and relaxed around him.

“We will see, Luffy.” He rolled his eyes at my response with a smile. “Well, I’m not gonna bother you any longer, as you have to go to your brother.”

“You are not bothering me at all, but yes I have to get going, as he has been waiting for me for at least two hours know.” He said it so casually like it was something that happens frequently. “But before you go, give me your Insta or something, we are practically neighbours, so we can go on a walk or hang out around someday.” He handed me his phone to put my Instagram on it.

“Of course, we should definitely do this.” I quickly typed my Instagram and followed myself. “Here you go.” I handed the phone back to him.

“Nice, see you around then.” He smiled at me one more time before he went away. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to accept his request and followed him back.

********

The doorbell rang like crazy; someone was playing with the bell on purpose to annoy Ace. Ace paused the game he was playing and got up to open the front door of his flat.

“Luffy.”  He yelled at his brother, pulling him inside as he locked Luffy’s head between his arm and body and started to ruffle his hair. No matter how old Luffy gets in Ace’s eyes he will always remains his little brother, for whom he has unconditional love.

“Uh Ace, stop that.” Luffy tried to escape his brother’s death grip, only to drop the bags he was caring on the ground. “Stop it, I’m not a kid anymore.” He protested, poking on his brother’s side making him release his grip.

“Yes, you are.” Ace bumped Luffy’s shoulder laughing at his reaction. Ace picked up the bags, from the floor to leave them on the kitchen counter. “What took you so long again?” He shouted from the kitchen, while Luffy was taking his shoes off.

“Nothing.” Luffy went straight to the living room, sitting on the sofa and grabbing one of the controllers. “I went to buy snacks and then I saw (Y/N), and we chitchat for a bit.”

“(Y/N)? Shanks’ niece?” Ace sat next to him, grabbing his own controller. Luffy nodded in response. “You know her?” His curiosity piqued. Until that night he didn’t even know that Shanks has a niece. Ace glanced at his brother who had his eyes focused entirely on the new game they started.

“Nah, I met her last Friday, when you were playing.” Luffy casually answered.

“Did you know that Shanks has a niece?” Ace asked; knowing that his brother won’t get suspicious at all at such question.

“Yeah, I was aware of that, but I had never met her before. She is also Nami and Usopp’s classma- YES!” Luffy yelled as he won the round. “She is cute, tho.” This caught Ace by surprise.

“Oh, is she?” His whole attention now on his brother. “Having a crush, hu?” The tone in his voice slightly changed. Luffy glanced at Ace for a second, shaking his head.

“Hell, no! Not like that cute” He exclaimed loudly. “I’m not crossing that line, there.” He shook his head in fear. “I don’t know which would be scarier – Nami killing me for hitting on her friend or Shanks breaking my neck if it even crosses my mind.” Ace just snorted at his brother’s reaction; even thought he remembered the way Shanks eyes warned him in the club when he interrupted their conversation. Not like it was going to stop him, but he did get the warning.

“I invited her to the Halloween party, by the way.” Luffy added, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Is she coming?” Ace attention taken away from the game when Luffy blurted that you were invited.

“She said that she is not sure, yet. But knowing Nami she won’t have much of a choice and she will come.” Luffy chuckled, thinking of Nami and how insistent she could be if she wants too. Ace smiled to himself. “What you smilin’ at?” Luffy interrupted his thoughts.

“At the fact that I’m beating your ass in this game.” Ace quickly lied; his attention directed fully on the screen now.

“Beating my ass? You haven’t won a single round since I came here.” He bumped Ace’s shoulder.

“No, I just let you win.” Ace laughed.

********

I got home and prepared myself a quick meal. I sat down to eat while scrolling on my phone. I saw that Luffy has posted a story and clicked on it – a picture of a TV screen with a game on it with a caption ‘Beat his ass’ and under it he had mentioned Ace’s profile. I paused the story for a second, before clicking on the mentioned button. Ace’s profile was public, and I stalked him for a little bit. He didn’t have much posted – four main posts and some highlights. He didn’t really had pictures of himself alone. His main posts were two pictures with him and his brothers, one from some music festival he had been too, and the fourth one was a picture of their EP album’s cover. His highlights were mostly of the band making music. The profile picture he had was nice – a black and white photo with his right-side profile, a hat was hanging on the back of his bare shoulders revealing his messy black hair and the red beams neckless around his neck. He was handsome to look at. A little blush appeared on my cheeks as I started to think about him again. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. I saw Nami’s name on the screen and I swiped to answer her.

“Hell-“

“Give me one good enough reason of why you don’t want to come to the party.” She wasted no time getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, (Y/N) hello to you as well, how are you doing?” I mocked her.

“Come on, you know why I’m calling.” She shushed me. “Please, come to the party it will be fun, I promise” At this point I started to get a deja-vu. She was the third person today who told me the exact same thing.

“I don’t have a costume.”

“So do I, we can go tomorrow after classes to search for something, we can even match.” She excitedly said.

“I don’t know Nami...why don’t you ask Vivi? You can match with her instead.”

“If I wanted to match with Vivi, I was going to speak with her now – not with you.” Nami responded to me sarcastically, and I could tell she probably rolled her eyes.

“Can’t I have some time to think about it fir-?”

“No!” She cut me off fast. “Because we don’t have much time to come up with the costumes.”

“We have like four days until Friday.” I groaned. This was starting to get annoying.

“Three.” She corrected me. “On top of it we have to think what we should match as and al-“

“Fine, fine – you know what fine.” I interrupted her. “I’m coming just so I don’t have to have this conversation again.” I sighed defeatedly. I removed the phone from my ear as Nami loudly squealed.

“I knew that you would say ‘yes’.” She mocked me, knowing that I got pissed at her.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” I rolled my eyes.

“Think of ideas for matching costumes so tomorrow after class we can go shopping.” She told me before ending the conversation.

I sighed looking back at my phone screen, still on Ace’s Instagram profile. A tingling feeling boiled up inside of me, knowing that we will probably see each other at the party. I left my plate in the sink and went to lay in bed. ‘Maybe going to the party will be fun after all.’ I thought to myself, a little smile on my face. My phone rang one more time, my dad’s picture popping up on the screen requesting to facetime me.

“How is my little girl doing?” His cheerful, loud as aways, voice filled up the room.

“Dad why is your hair blue again; I thought you outgrew your Emo period?” I mocked him. He got into colouring his hair a few years ago, and sometimes the colours were outrageous.

“To represent my sadness and sorrow, as my precious daughter haven’t called her dad for almost two weeks now.” He faked a cry. I playfully rolled my eyes at his little act.

“I’m sorry, I was just busy.” I did feel bad that I haven’t called him in such a long time. “How are you? I saw on your profile that you have sold out all the shows till the rest of the year.” A big grin on his face appeared as I mentioned this.

“Yes, can you believe it? Your old man is a star.” He raised his chin acting like a royalty.

“My old man is a diva, not a star.” I joked with him. “I’m proud of you dad, there is no better comedian than you.” I told him, as both my eyes and tone were filled up with love.

“Oh, baby girl – my biggest achievement is being your dad.” I could see his eyes tearing a little bit. I have always known that it was not easy at all for him to raised me alone, but I will forever be grateful for it. “Enough for me, now tell me; how is school going, any guy catching your eye?” He teased me.

“No, school is great, and no guy has caught my eye.” I lied, but the small smile and blush on my cheeks gave me away.

“Lier, lier, pants on fire.” He called out my little lie. “There is someone. Is it just a crush or something serious?” He wiggled his eyebrows to which I giggled.

“It’s nothing dad.” I tried to brush it off, as my face was burning hot.

“If it’s nothing then why blushing like that?” He mocked me. “Tell Buggy – who got his little girl heart swept away?”

“It’s really nothing, just some guy I met only once and we talked for like ten minutes at best, so it’s nothing.” It was nothing actually, Ace and I have barely spoken, I was just attracted to his charm, that is all – I thought to myself.

“Is he from your class?” Dad curiously asked me.

“No, he is not. But it turned out that he is a friend of my friends.”

“So, what now? Are you in a contact with him?” Growing up I didn’t have many friends, as I was quite a shy kid, but my dad was always there – till this day he was my best friend and I’ve always known that my secrets were safe with him. Talking about boys with him was nothing new, but still, this was the first time that I really felt awkward about it.

“No, but there is this party on Friday that he and his brothers are throwing, and I got invited.” I got flushed again.

“Did he invite you? Are you going?” He started to throw question after a question at me.

“No, his brother who is Nami and Usopp’s best friend told them to invite me, and they were not taking a ‘no’ for an answer, so – yes, I’m going.”

“Is he going to be there?” He wiggled his eyebrows, teasing me.

“I hope so, yes.” I muttered.

“How did you meet?”

“The first time we met was at this coffee shop that I’ve told you about. I forgot my charger and saw that he had the same laptop as mine and I went to ask him if I can borrow it. Then he came and sat down with me, and we spoke for a little bit and then – omg dad you won’t believe it, he immediately got my ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ reference.” I excitedly said my eyes filled with sparkles, my dad smiling at my reaction. “And then the same night I was working at Shanks’ bar, and he was performing there, as he has his own band and they are so good by the way, and he is such a good singer, and yeah we met again, and we started to chitchat, but Shanks came and destroy everything as always.” I didn’t realise that I was blabbing. “So yeah, it’s nothing as I said.” I brushed it off.

“Baby girl.” He chuckled. “It is not nothing. You obviously have a crush on the guy.”

“No, dad I don’t. How could I? We have barely talked; he is just good looking and I’m bad at reading guys, you know this.” I shook my head, disagreeing with what he was saying.

“We are all attracted by looks first.” He scolded me. “But sometimes we don’t need much to like someone, especially with the enthusiasm you were telling me your little story it does sounds and looks like you have a crush on the guy – so go get him!” He encouraged me.

“Dad, you know as a father, you should be grumpy and unencouraging when your daughter has a crush not the opposite.” I chuckled.

“Ahaa you see you do have a crush on the guy.” He mocked me. “And when have I been like the other dads?” He asked me seriously. “Plus, I want to see you happy, baby girl.” His voice filled with love. “And also, when you were little, you promised me no boyfriends until you were sixteen, you are five years behind schedule – as much as I’m glad about this I think it’s time for you to experience love.” Even thought he was joking; I felt the hint of honestly behind his words.

“I’m doing pretty good on my own. I don’t need a boyfriend.” I pause for a second. “Plus, he is surrounded by girls, I told you he is the vocalist in their band, so I’m just you know...” I shrugged. “One of the many.” This was something I was trying to ignore thinking about. I was not blind or stupid – I saw how many girls went and hit on him and his bandmates after the show.

“Every man who chose another girl over you, my precious girl, will be the biggest fool the world will ever know.” He has always found ways to melt my heart.

“Thank you, dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too darling. Take care of yourself. Next time we speak you better have some update on your crush.” He pointed his finger at the camera.

“Yeah, sure dad. Bye.” I waved at him and ended the conversation.

I looked at the time and it was already 10:47PM, so I decided to get ready to sleep. I brushed my teeth and put some oversized t-shirt on and got into bed. Today was a very tiring day.

*******

The next day only – Nami, Usopp and I showed up from our group in university.

“Well, at least is the three of us.” I said as we were looking for the equipment we were going to use for the project.

“True, we don’t need anyone else.” Usopp agreed with me picking up a few microphones that we were going to need to record the sounds.

“Please repeat – so we are going to record some sounds from outside, and then the rest of the sounds that we will need, we record in the sound room?” Nami asked again, as she was still confused of what our plan exactly was.

“Exactly.” Usopp and I responded at the same time.

“Okay, do we have everything?” She asked as we looked around to see if we were missing something.

“No, I think we are good to go.” I replied taking one last look around the equipment room before we left.

We went to the park that was close by our university. Walking around, looking for an aera where there weren’t a lot of people around, took us some time. After thirty minutes we finally found a place.

“Okay so...” I clapped my hands getting their attention as they were carefully putting the equipment on the ground. “I will do the sound recording, one of you will need to do the sounds we need for it and the other just can just chill.” I quickly explained.

“I can do the sounds. Nami can rest.” Usopp said.

“Perfect. Help me just connect the mic to the boom pole.” I asked Nami for her help. We quickly fix the microphone and connected it to the audio recorder. “Say something.” I put the headphones on and started to adjust the sound and the frequencies. Nami started to talk to the microphone until I was satisfied with it.

“Okay, nice we are ready to start. Usopp please stand where the big pile of leaves is.” Usopp nodded at me and went to stand where I told him to. I went and crouched a little next to him. “I want you to start stepping heavy on the leaves first.” I instructed him. “Nami, do you want to call the slates?” I asked her with a smile, knowing how much she loves to do this.

“Of course I want.” She came closer to us and crouched to the microphone. “Quiet on set please! Sound?”

“Rolling.” I said.

“Scene one, take one – Action!” Nami said and Usopp started to step on the leaves as I’ve told him to. It took us an hour to record everything we needed. From the of sound the leaves to the sound of some birds flying by.

“That was fast.” Nami exclaimed.

“Of course, with a professional actor like me you didn’t even need more than two takes.” Usopp patted himself on the shoulders, for the job he had done. We laughed at him and his cockiness.

“Before we go let’s record one take of you screaming here, as in the sound room it will be way too clean.” I stopped them from putting the equipment back. “I just want to have a record from here, just in case.” They both agreed with me.  

I held the microphone up close to Usopp face ready to record. He was about to scream but Nami stopped us.

“Wait, I want to take video of this, I have a feeling I will regret it if I don’t.” She pulled her phone up and gave us the thumbs up to start recording. I nodded to Usopp to scream whenever he felt ready. I jumped out of surprise of how loud Usopp screamed and dropped for a second the boom pole, hitting him on the nose with the microphone, before I was able to catch it. I removed the headphones from my head as my ears hurt from the volume of the scream. Nami couldn’t stop laughing hysterically.

“Usopp, are you okay?” I placed my hand on hid shoulder as he was holding his nose.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you okay, what happened?” He looked at me confused.

“The headphones were on a full volume, and I didn’t realise it, and then you screamed so loud, I got startled, and the volume hurt my ears.” I explained. “I’m so, so sorry.” I apologised, feeling so bad that he was got hurt.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt that bad.” He patted me on the shoulder reassuring me that everything was okay.

“Guys, guys.” Nami shouted running toward us. “Please, look at the video.” She couldn’t stop laughing. We looked at her phone and she pressed play. The video was hilarious – from the moment I almost dropped the microphone and my reaction, to the moment where it hit Usopp and he grabbed his nose. Even if we were planning to stage it wouldn’t have turned out this good and all three of us burst out laughing.

“This is hilarious.” Usopp fell to the ground holding his stomach unable to stop laughing.

“I’m posting this, I’m sorry guys but this has to be posted.” Nami opened her Instagram and posted the video on her story tagging Usopp and me. After we calmed down a little, we tried once again to record the scream, but this time without any headphones. We officially wrapped and went back to university.

******

“And it’s a wrap!” Nami announced once we were done recording in the sound room.

“I can’t believe we manage to do it in one day.” I was amazed by how fast we were moving on the project so far. “If we manage to edit it tomorrow, we will be free on Thursday, and just need to come on Friday morning for evaluations.”

“And then we go to party.” Usopp started to dance on his chair. “I can’t wait, you will never guess what Kaya and I are going to be dressed as.” He smirked at Nami and me.

“Like what? Super Mario and Princess Peach?” Nami raised her eyebrow.

“No, you wanna guess (Y/N)?” He spined on chair facing me.

“I-I don’t know. Barbie and Ken?” He shook his head ‘no’ at my guess. “Then?”

“Metro Boomin and Future.” He threw some gang signs at us, while Nami and I looked at each and burst out laughing.

“What? Why? How?” I was speechless. “How did you even come up with this?” I needed to know what born this idea in their minds.  

“Was it your idea Usopp? Oh, poor Kaya.” Nami huffed.

“Um, ladies – to your surprise it was not an idea that my mind came up with it, it was Kaya’s.” He raised his hands in the air like someone was pointing a gun toward him.

“I’m repeating (Y/N)’s question – how?” Nami asked him, we were both still in shock.

“She saw something in TikTok, some girl dressed as Future, and she sent it to me and said that she wants to be him for this Halloween, so I was okay I will be Metro then.” Nami and I looked at each other still a little confused then back at Usopp. “Why are you looking at me like this? At least our idea is original – who many other couples you know that will go as them?” He mocked us.

“Well, here you have a point.” I agreed with him. “You will definitely win most original couple costume of the night.” I mocked him.

“What are you two going to be? Do you plan to match?” He asked us.

“Well, we haven’t decided, yet.” I said.

“Something sexy for sure.” Nami winked, a smug smirk growing on her face. I looked at her knowing that she has had already something in mind.

“Oh no. You’ve already come up with something.” I was scared to ask what it was, as I had this feeling that I won’t like it.

“How about a dark and a light angle?” She suggested, looking at me expecting my reaction.

“Yeah...but no.” I shook my head not being very found of the idea.

“Why not?” She was surprised by my answer.

“It’s too basic, there will be at least four other girls dress the exact same way.” Last thing I wanted for Halloween was to wear a boring costume.

“Do you have anything better than that then?” I could see that she agreed with me on this.

“Actually, yeah. But I’m not sure if you gonna be down for it.” I smirked knowing that my idea was way better than hers. I took a dramatic pause before I tell her. “Donkey and Puss from Shrek, bam.”

“That is actually a super cool idea.” Usopp nodded at me, clearing liking my idea.

“As long as you are Donkey.” Nami pointed her finger at me, I laughed knowing that if she agreed I would have to be Donkey.

“Sure, I will be Donkey.”

“A sexy Donkey.” She winked at me, and I rolled my eyes at her.

We sat for a little bit more and chitchat while waiting for the recordings to save on my hard drive. Nami was on her phone and suddenly she burst out laughing. Usopp and I turned our heads towards her wondering what caused her outburst.

“Luffy just replied to my story.” She continued to laugh, holding her stomach. “He-he said ‘Usopp did a nice catch with the nose, Ace and I can’t stop laughing.” Usopp and I started to laugh, until Nami mentioned Ace’s name. I cringed thinking about him seeing my face and rection. The computer made a sound that the files were transferred so I fixed that while Nami and Usopp were texting Luffy.

“Okay, guys it’s all done now. We can go.” I told them, as I started to put my stuffs in my bag. “What time should we come tomorrow?”

“I say around 10AM.” Usopp suggested, and I nodded. They grabbed their bags, and we left.

*******

The rest of the days went by fast. Wednesday before I met with Nami and Usopp I stopped by my favourite coffee shop, part of me was expecting to see Ace there, but I didn’t. Today I gave it another try but it was the same as on Wednesday.

After we finished with our evaluations for the project, a few classmates asked me if I was coming to the Halloween party tonight, but I told them that for now I was not sure if I will be able to make it. They told me to come, as it would be fun, but I couldn’t make any promises.

“Why don’t we go for a little bit to the party they are throwing here in uni?” I suggested to Nami, as we were going to her place to get ready for tonight.

“Because we are going to a better one.” She scoffed.

“Come on, let’s go for just one drink and then we go straight to Luffy’s, please.” I nagged her, as I really wanted to go and hang up with our classmates for a bit.

“Okay, but only one drink.” She muttered. I squeaked happily and hugged her.

******

“Damn, we look good.” Nami exclaimed as we were checking ourselves in the mirror in her bedroom.

I was wearing a grey mini skirt with a silver corset on top, which Nami tighten a little bit too much, with a pair of black boots. I let my hair down as I was wearing a donkey ears on top of my head. Nami was dressed in light brown mini skirt with an orange corset on top and brown boots. On top of her long ginger hair, that was falling freely on her back, she had put cat ears. We took some pictures before heading to the party at university first. A lot of our classmates were already there when we arrived. I started to chitchat with some of them, as Nami went to get us something to drink. She came back giving me a can of beer.

“Sadly, beer is all I could find. We were supposed to bring our own booze.” She huffed, I could see that she was already eager to leave.

“Come on, at least fake it for me that you enjoy it.” I nagged her. She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Who gave you this by the way?” I took a sip of the beer.

“Some guy from year two.”

“Didn’t you take for yourself?” I was surprised, usually she never turns down things given to her for free.

“Nah, you know I’m not a fan of beer. But I will look around and see if someone has something stronger.” She patted me on the shoulder and left.

I continued to speak and laughed with some of the people from our class. We took some pictures and started to play some card game that took me some time to understand. I was having a lot of fun at the party here. Soon I finished my drink, and someone offered me another one, but I kindly denied their offer. I excused myself and went to look for Nami. She was sitting on one of the couches in school, talking with some girls from the second year; I got close to them and interrupted their conversation.

“Sorry for interrupting girls.” I apologised to them. “Nami, you want to go or stay a little longer?”

“Are you kidding me – let’s go.” She quickly got up and waved goodbye to the girls.

As we were walking to the metro station, I realised I have no idea where we were going.

“By the way I forgot to ask you, who’s house are we going to?” I was shaking a little bit because of the cold weather. I took a very tin jacket with me which wasn’t keeping me warm at all, on top of it my legs were bare.

“Deuce’s place. They usually throw parties at his house, as he is the only one who owns one.” She explained, and then looked at me. “Are you cold? You are shivering like crazy.” Her eyes were filled with concern.

“Yea, I’m freezing. I should have taken a long coat like you.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivers running all over my body.

“Oh, come here.” She pulled me to the side of her body wrapping me in her arms trying to warm me up a little. “You are going to get warm once we get to the party.” She winked at me.

******

We finally reached the metro station and caught the metro. Twenty minutes later we were in front of Deuce’s house. The music coming from it could be heard from miles away. Getting closer I noticed that there were quite lot of people. Some of them greeted Nami as we were walking toward the entrance. Once we stepped inside everything looked crazy. Whoever took care of the decoration did a very good job. The place was a two-storey house. The hallway was leading to a very spacious living room on the left side, and the kitchen was right at the end of it. On the right side of the entrance was the staircase to the second floor. We looked around until we could find someone familiar.

“I will check the kitchen; you check the living room.” Nami yelled in my ear as the music was way too loud. I was going to protest and tell her to not leave me alone, but she quickly disappeared. ‘Great’ I thought to myself. I took my jacket off and hung it by the door, where it was already formed a big pile of jackets. I took a deep breath and started to walk towards the living room. Looking around searching for someone familiar, I was also carefully checking if anyone by any chance might be Ace. I felt like a lost deer in the middle of the living room. Someone bumped into me and didn’t even apologise.

“Ass.” I called out after him, but he didn’t pay me any attention.

I looked around once more until my eyes landed on the couch. There were two guys sitting on it dressed the same – black pants, tight black shirts defining their muscular bodies with Ghostface masks on. On both of their sided were sitting two girls. The one on the right side had his arm wrapped around the girl who was sitting with her legs on his lap, his other hand on the couch. While the guy siting on the left side had a guitar on his lab and the girl sitting next to him leaned on his shoulders. The two girls were dressed as a dark and a light angle, and I made a mental note to myself tell Nami – ‘I told you’. I was about to turn around when the guy holding the guitar caught my attention. It wasn’t him but the tattoos on his arms that did it, they looked oddly familiar. Then it hit me –  I recognised the tattoos, this must be Law, the guy from Ace’s band. I took look at the guy next to him dressed exact same, wondering who it might be. The girl sitting on his lap turned her head towards my direction and so did the guy. I quickly looked away realising that I was staring at them. I tried to make my way around until I saw a familiar green buzz cut.

“Zoro.” I yelled trying to catch his attention. Surprisingly, he heard me and turn around.

“Yo, wat’s up?” He greeted me, as he pulled me for a hug with his left arm. “Are you a donkey?” He eyed my costume.

“Yeah, Donkey from Shrek.” I grabbed my ears and moved them playfully. “Do you like it?” I spined around so he could take a better look.

“Ye, sure. You look nice for a donkey.” He nodded at me, his tone cool and unbothered as always.

“What are you dressed as?” I ran my eyes on his costume.

“Guess.” He challenged me.

“Hmm...” I took a better look at his costume until I noticed the symbol on his yukata. “No way, you are dressed as a samurai from old Wano.” He chuckled at me and nodded. His costume was amazing. “How did you come up with it?”

“You know, I’m into marshal arts, and I have some roots from Wano. So... yea, I decided to pay a little tribute to my roots this year.” He was quick and short with his explanations.

“Where are the re-“ I didn’t finish my question as I heard someone behind me.

“There you are.” Usopp shouted, pulling me for a hug.

“Metro, make it boom.” I shouted at Usopp checking him out. “Damn, Usopp you look good tonight, I think you should dress like this more often.” He was dressed exactly like Metro Boomin from his lates album cover – black suit and white shirt, the white bandana wrapped around his forehead, his hair braided and as a last touch he even wore the exact same sunglasses as him. “Where is Future?” I joked, looking around for Kaya.

“Future is in the kitchen doing shots with Nami and sent me to get you there.” He nodded at us to follow him. Before we leave the living room, I took a glance towards the couch. It was only Law sitting on it with the girl from earlier. His mask was lifted now, and I could easily see his face. He and the girl were too busy making out with each other. Part of me was wondering if the other guy might be Ace. But then this unpleasant feeling bubbled inside of me when I remembered the girl sitting on his lap and the way his arm was wrapped around her. I tried to shake the feeling away and focus on my friends instead. After all it might not be him.

As we entered the kitchen, I quickly spotted Nami and Kaya. Kaya looked at us and waved her hand. She pulled me in a tight hug once we were next to them.

“(Y/N), I’m so happy to see you.” By the sound of her voice, I could tell that she was already tipsy. Her usual shy persona was long gone.

“Me too, Future. Nice drip.” I complimented her, as her look like Future turned out pretty good. She was wearing this long thick faux fur coat, her eyes hidden behind round sunglasses, and her neck was covered in so many silver and sparkling chains – she did an amazing job recreating his look as well.

“Wake up, take a sip of Ace of Spade like it's water.” She started to rap his verse from Low Life and we all started to laughed as she started to throw gangster signs at Usopp and screaming in his face ‘If she catch me cheating, I won't ever tell her, "sorry"’. Usopp was looking at her in disbelief as we couldn’t contain our laughter. If someone told me earlier today that I would witness drunk Kaya rapping at her boyfriend how she would cheat on him while throwing gangster signs I would have never believe it.

“This is what I get for being a good boyfriend.” He grabbed her face and shushed her with a kiss. In her drunken state she wasted no time to deepening their kiss.

“Get a room, you two.” Someone cheerfully yelled at them, we all turned our heads to see Luffy’s big grin as he joined our circle. He was dressed as Spiderman. His skinny but muscular body was fitting the costume very good, he could play a real life Spirdeman man if he wanted to. The only missing part of his costume was the mask.  

“What took you so long guys?” He asked Nami and me, as he pulled us for a hug. “You two look great by the way.” He complimented us. “What are you a donkey and what? A cat demon from hell?” He poked Nami on the sides messing with her.

“Luffy.” Nami whined. “I’m Puss from Shrek, and (Y/N) is the Donkey.” She explained to him.

“Wow, nice. I like this.” He gave us the thumbs up. “(Y/N), you look too sober, let’s get you drunk. Nami you too.” He poured up three glasses with rum and coke, then before he handed them to us, he filled all the way up six shot glasses with vodka. “Everyone, grab a shot of vodka.” He shouted, as he raised one of the shot glasses in the air. “Let’s make this night memorable.” We all cheered and took the shots in one sip. The strong taste of the vodka was burning my insides as my whole body twitched from the feeling of it. Luffy handed Nami and me, the drinks he made for us and himself.

“Yo, Luffy we should roll one, now that everyone is here.” Zoro turned to Luffy.

“Hell yeah.” He shouted, agreeing with Zoro. “No wait, we are not all here. Where is Sanji? I swear I saw him.”

“Do we really need him?” Zoro snorted.

“He is upstairs.” Usopp said pointing at the ceiling.

“What is he doing upstairs? Someone goes get him.” Luffy said not getting the hint.

“He is banging some chick Luffy.” Nami clarified for him. Luffy’s eyes widen, and he grinned.

“Well, good for him. Get it Sanji” Luffy chuckled, and we all laughed. “Okay, Zoro come with me to find Sabo as I think he has some of the good one tonight.”

Nami made us four more shots, but Usopp told her to not give Kaya more, and that she needed some cold air, so they went outside for a bit.

“This is for us two then.” She handed me two shot glasses. “One after the other.” She warned me. I followed her orders without protesting and we quickly took the shots. We grabbed the rum and cola that Luffy made us and started to look around at the party. Some people were playing some card game, and we decided to join. They quickly explained the rules, which were simple, and we started to play with them. Nami rolled the dice first and it landed on blue, she took a blue card of the pile and read it out loud.

“Give this card to the person with the least bodies.” She looked around not knowing the people we were playing with. “Okay who here is virgin?” She asked and everyone laughed. “As I expected, okay who here has slept with more than one person.” They all laughed again as she was saying the funniest jokes on Earth. “Then, darling, this card belongs to you.” She handed me the card and I rolled my eyes at her. It was my turn now. I rolled the dice, and it landed on pink. It was dare.

“Take off your shirt or drink three shots.” I shook my head. “I’m taking the shots.” Some of the guys booed me, but I ignored them. Someone brought me three shot glasses full of some pink liquor. “It’s watermelon sour shot, they are harmless don’t worry.” The girl who handed me the shots reassured me. I thanked her and drank the shots. She was right they were rather sweet than bitter. We continue to play a few more rounds with them until Nami nodded me to move somewhere else. I could feel that I was getting tipsy. I got a hold of her hand and stopped her for a second.

“Nami, do you know where the toilet is, I really need to pee.” I asked her as I was holding it for a quite some time now.

“Yea, it’s upstairs. But please, hold it for a second so we can drink two more shots.” She dragged me with her to some table full of shots. She handed me two again.

“What is it in it?” I asked as I had no idea what I was holding. Nami lift it to her nose and smelled it.

“Oh, it’s Jägermeister – now chuck.” She already drank hers before I even lifted mine. I scrunched my nose at the smell of it – not being a fan of Jägermeister, but still drank it. I saw her pulling her phone texting someone. “Okay, everyone is at the backyard ready to smoke, let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me after her.

“No, Nami, wait.” I stopped her. “I need to go pee; you go outside I will find you.”

“Are you sure? I can come with you?”

“No, just go. I will be fine.” I waved at her making my way upstairs. As I was going up the stairs, I could feel that those two last shots were bad idea. I got to the second floor and there I was met with four doors, and I didn’t know which one was the toilet. I opened the first one on the right and it was just a small storage room. I tried with the second door on the right and when I opened it, I froze on the spot. The room was dark, but because of the open door some light got in and there was one of the guys with the Ghostface mask with one of the girls. One of his hands was wrapped around her throat choking her, while the other was pulling her hair. He was so focused on fucking her from behind that he didn’t realise what was going on until she screamed. The guy looked up and stopped immediately. I realised what just happened and quickly closed the door. I tried opening the first door on the left and finally it was the toilet. My heart was going to explode in my chest. Because of the dim light I couldn’t see who it was. ‘Did I just walk on Law having sex? Or it was the other masked dude?’ I thought to myself. I looked at myself it the mirror. My makeup was a little smudged at this point and my hair was messy, I sighed at the look of myself. I quickly peed and washed my hands. I was a little scared to go out of the bathroom, what if the guy got mad and he was looking to kill me know?

“I watch too many movies” I murmured to myself. I opened the door and there was no one. I quickly ran down the stairs which wasn’t a good idea as I almost tripped and fell but I got a hold of myself on the railing. I hit my knee in it and I hissed from the pain, hoping no one saw that. I stopped in the middle of the hallway as everything was spinning around me, the alcohol finally kicking in. It felt like there are more and more people in the house since we came, as if it was possible. I didn’t know which way the backyard was, and I felt a little lost. As I was looking around trying to focus my sight, I felt someone gently putting their hands on my shoulders.

“Are you lost, doll?” Someone whispered in my ear. Shivers ran down my spine. I turned around quickly to face the person behind me. It was the Ghostface masked guy. I stepped back, as I wasn’t sure if he was the one I caught upstairs just a few minutes ago. What if he got mad at me? He was quite taller than me, I was faced with him muscular chest. The tight shirt on him defining every inch of muscles he had on his body. I looked at his hands searching for tattoos but there were none, so it wasn’t Law, but why would Law call me doll in a first place? His arms were toned and veined and there was something on his left biceps. My eyes run up his left arm. On top of his left bicep was a tattoo, all I could of see was a crossed out ‘S’ and ‘E’. The guy was just looking at me with the mask on, without saying anything, like we were in one of the scenes in the movie ‘Scream’. I held my breath for a second, feeling intimidated but weirdly attracted by him. The alcohol gave me a big push of confidence, and I spoke first.

“You want to play a psycho killer?” I asked him the exact same thing the actress in the movie did, and he nodded just like the killer in the movie.

“Can I be the helpless victim?” I tease him the same way the actress did, and he nodded again.

“No please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel” I flutter my eyelashes at him. He came a step closer to me, and just ran his finger across my neck, as he was slitting it. The feeling of his fingers felt like they left a path of fire on it. My breath got caught in my lungs and electricity ran all over my body. The guy took off his mask, and I was met with Ace’s messy hair and charming smile.

“Hey there, beautiful.” His were eyes half lidded, but there was something in the way he was looking at me. “Are you lost? I can always help to guide you.” His voice was smooth and raspy at the same time.

“Ace.” My eyes widen at the sight of him. My confidence left me, when he was standing so close to me. “I-I no, no, I’m not lost, but I’m looking for the backyard.” I cleared my throat trying to compose myself.

“Relax, you will be on the sequel.” He joked with me. “Come they are looking for you.” He nodded me to go with him, as he put his hand on my waist guiding me. This simple gestured caused my cheeks to become flaming hot. We made our way to the backyard, and everyone were there, even Sanji and Ace’s other brother – Sabo with his girlfriend.

“Did you fall in the toilet?” Nami asked me sarcastically.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” I responded to her.

“Sorry (Y/N), we smoked the joints before you come.” Luffy awkwardly scratched his neck. “Next round I’m rolling you one for yourself only.” He giggled and I could tell that he was quite high at this point.

“It’s okay, I’m way too tipsy anyway.” I waved him off with a smile. Everyone started to chitchat something among themselves. Zoro and Sanji were arguing about something while Luffy couldn’t stop laughing at them. Usopp was making sure that Kaya was on her feet, as she had drunk too much alcohol, and now on top of it she was high. Nami was speaking something with Koala, who was leaning on her boyfriend Sabo. My body shiver slightly as the night was getting colder, and the alcohol wasn’t helping, as I stared to feel more tired than in the mood for a party.

“Are you having fun?” Ace came closer to me.

“Uh, yea... just l-little tired that is all.” I awkwardly chuckled, shivers ran down my spine feeling him so close.

“Looks like you are freezing. Do you want to go inside?” His tone was gentle.

“No, I need some air. Plus, inside is way too loud.” I brushed off his offer. “I will be fine, don’t worry.” A slightly blushed bloomed on my cheeks. I looked away trying to hide it. Alcohol usually gives people confidence, not the opposite, but tonight it wasn’t helping me at all.

“But you are freezing, doll.” He remarked, looking at my shivering body. “Let’s go somewhere where you can have both some cold air and be warm at the same time.” He whispered in my ear.

“Where?” I slightly tilted my head looking him in the eyes as he had bend over a little to meet my gaze.

“Come.” He just nodded at me to follow him, and I did. I turned around to look at the rest of the group but only Sabo was looking at us with a smirk. I lowered my gaze to the ground, as the blushed deepened on my cheeks.

******

Going back inside the house Ace got stopped a few times by some people greeting him. Some of them were girls, and the looks they sent my way weren’t very friendly. As we were going up the stairs Ace stopped and looked over his shoulder at me and asked if I want something to drink. I told him that a glass of water would be perfect, as I was feeling super thirsty. He nodded at me and told me to wait for him in the hallway upstairs. It didn’t take him long to come back. He handed me the glass of water and I thanked him. Ace started to walk to the second door on the right and as he was grabbing the doorknob to opened it, I stopped him.

“No, no, no. Do not open this door.” I still remember the scene from earlier when I caught the masked guy with the girl. Then it hit me like a truck – as I knew now that it was Ace and Law dressed the same, was it possible that I caught Ace there earlier. I looked at him a little suspicious as I let go of his hand. He raised his eyebrow at me, confused about what was going on.

“Why not?” He let go of the doorknob, turning all his attention to me.

“Well, y-you know w-why.” I avoided looking at him.

“No, doll I don’t.” He grabbed my chin with two of his fingers and making me look at him.

“I-I walked o-on someone... not l-long ago... h-having... y-you k-know...” His fingers were still holding my chin, but I avoided his gaze. He laughed at me for a second.

“Ah, don’t worry doll, if there is someone inside right now, they won’t be the first I’ve ever walked on.” Ace let go off my chin and opened the door. “Well, we are lucky there is no one in, come.” He got inside and waited for me to follow him. I hesitated for a moment but decided to trust him. The room was dark, but Ace quickly made his way to one of the corners and turned on the tall floor lamp positioned there. It was a bedroom. The walls were coloured in a cream beige nuance, some simple art paintings were hanged on them. The bed in the middle of the room was quite big, the sheets were wrinkled but still it wasn’t messy. The wall next to the bed had a big window door that were leading to a balcony. Ace closed the door behind me.

“You can sit or lay on the bed, and I will open the balcony doors.” He pushed the curtains and opened one of the doors. I sat on the side of the bed next to the opened door, and Ace sat next to me. I took a few sips of my water, my mouth dry and my mind was still quite foggy because of the alcohol. My heart was beating fast, as I realised that I was alone with Ace in the room. I saw him looking at me, and now on this dimed light I could take a better look at him. His cheeks were a little flushed, probably because of the alcohol, and his were eyes half lidded, but I couldn’t tell if he was high or not. His hair was messy because of the mask, at least I hoped it was because of it.

“Where is your company?” The question slipped out before I could even stop myself.

“What company?” He raised his eyebrow at my question.

“Y-you know that g-g-girl from earlier. D-did I w-walked o-n y-you?” I muttered, my eyes not moving from the water glass. “I-I mean, t-the g-guy w-was also wearing t-the s-same mask a-as y-you a-an...” Ace’s tongue-clucking interrupted me, and I locked at him. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he was shaking his head.

“Ouch, doll.” He tilted his head at me, a little smirk playing on his face. “I know we don’t really know each other, but don’t you think this would be kinda a big dick move? Like come on, fucking one girl and what, fifteen minutes later going to another one?” He snorted. I could feel that he was a little offended in the way his voice changed.

“Oh my God, no, no Ace I-I didn’t mean it like this, I-I’m extremely sorry.” I put the glass on top of the bedside table. “I-I swear I didn’t mean that, I-I thought i-if it w-was you, a-at least I can apologise for walking on y-you t-that’s all.” I babbled and didn’t realise that I moved closer to him and grabbed his arm by the shoulder.

“It’s okay, no offence was taken.” He brushed it off, his tone was cool. Being this close to him I noticed that he has freckles covering his face, especially his cheeks, which was adding a bit of cuteness to his otherwise very handsome face. I shivered again as the wind from outside filled up the room with cold air. I wrapped my arms around myself again.

“Let me close the door.” I wanted to protest, as the balcony door being open was giving me a sense of escape. It was making the atmosphere around us less intimidate.

“So, long time no see.” Ace sat back on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “You didn’t go for coffee this week?” He teasing smirk forming on his lips.

“I did actually, you just missed me.” A little smile forming on my lips.

“I will be a fool to missed you, doll.” He chuckled and I rolled my eyes at his lame comment.

“So what? You were looking for me or something?” My confidence was coming slowly back, and he just laughed at me. He eyed me from head to toe.

“I’m surprised you didn’t dress as a fox.” He reached with his left arm and wiggled my donkey ears.

“I’ve already been a fox for Halloween, I don’t like repeating my costumes.” I felt myself relax and I laid my body on the bed. “At least my costume is not a lazy one.” I mocked him.

“Hey, what do you mean?” He turned his body on the side facing me, leaning his head on his left hand.

“You know.” I shrugged. “Ghostface mask? Really?” I couldn’t contain my giggle, as I continued to mock him. Ace rolled his eyes at me playfully.

“Shut up. I’m not into dressing up anyway, so I didn’t even care.”

“Boring.” I murmured, glancing at him playfully as well.

“Damn, doll you switch fast – just a seconds ago you were all shy on me, and now you are bulling me, tc-tc.” He licked his lips, looking at me amazed.

“I’m not bulling you; I’m criticizing you.” I corrected him, and we both burst out laughing.

“So, now that it’s just us two, let’s finished the conversation we were having last Friday before your uncle interrupted us.” Ace said. “Tell me – what are you into the most?” I thought for a second back to our conversation a week ago before I answered his question.

“Directing for sure. I love filming, but it’s different when you are the director.” I explained.

“What got you into film making?” He moved a little closer to me, but I didn’t mind it, as I started to feel calmer around him.

“Well, I can say I was a little influenced by my dad. Growing up, going with him to different studios and theatres, got me into loving the idea of creating something with a camera.” I smiled to myself, remembering the days when I was little, and dad would bring me to every movie or show he was recording, even if kids weren’t allowed, he never followed the rules. “I took a gap year before I decided what I want to do for sure, and then I found the program here and yes... this is how I end up studying filmmaking.” I moved my gaze to Ace, he was looking at me with a smile on his face, listening careful to what I was saying.

“Is your dad also a filmmaker?” He asked.

“Ha-ha, no, no.” I shook my head. “He likes to be in front of the camera unlike me and he is a comedian.”

“For real? Is he famous or something?” Ace raised his eyebrow curiously.

“Mhm...” I bit my lip, nodding my head. “Have you head of Buggy the Clown?”

“No way.” Ace’s eyes widen in surplice. “Your dad is Buggy the Clown?” I nodded a big grin spread across my face, being proud of Buggy being my father. “My brothers and I love him; your dad is amazing. Damn, so you are the daughter he tells all these crazy stories about.” He chuckled at me in disbelief.

“Yea, I’m the infamous daughter.” I giggled at his comment, my cheeks blushing a little.

“Damn... I feel starstruck now, can I have your autograph or something?” Ace teased me.

“Of course, you can where you want me to sign.” I teased him back, winking at him.

“Don’t tease me like that, doll.” He chuckled a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“What about you? What got you into music?” My cheeks got flaming hot again and I quickly changed the subject, but also, I was really interested to hear his story behind how we discovered his talent.

“Let’s say I was a quite troubled kid, and as a punishment my aunt made me attend the school choir.” His face frowning a bit from embarrassment remembering the days back in the choir. “I hated it, you have no idea how much I hated attending it.” I let out a giggle at his expression. “Anyway, the teacher saw potential in me and spoke with my aunt to sign me for private lessons. She couldn’t afford that as she had to take care of Sabo and Luffy as well, but my teacher took me under her wing and, yeah..” He awkwardly chuckled.

“Well, that teacher wasn’t wrong.” I said, our gazes locking. Ace snorted at my comment, but he didn’t say anything.

“And how about the guitar? Did you take lessons, or you are self-taught?” I asked him, my voice came out almost as a whisper. Our gazes met and I couldn’t move mine from his dark brown eyes. I made a mental note to myself that I haven’t paid attention till now what a deep shade of brown they were, everyone could get lost in his beautiful eyes. His thin but as dark as his hair eyebrows were adding to his bold but handsome face.

“Law taught me when we became friends.” He spoke in a low tone as he moved a little strand of hair from my face. His fingers were surprisingly soft, even thought they were barely glazing the skin of my face. His touched felt like fire. My breath got caught in my lungs, as suddenly the room became so hot. Ace moved even closer to me, his fingers now playing with the strand of my hair. “Do you know that you have beautiful eyes, doll.” The way he said it as a statement and not a question made my heart skipped a beat. I just shocked my head, unable to say or do anything, as my body froze, but my eyes never left his. He licked his lips, eyes moving to my lips. I slightly opened my mouth, my hands gripping on the sheets under me, heart beating faster. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to calm myself down, and when I opened them, Ace cursed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He shook his head and sat up straight in the bed, looking at the ground. I followed him, looking at him confused.

“Ace?” My voice soft, coming out as a whisper. “A-are you okay? D-did I do something?” The energy in the room changed quickly. If a few seconds ago everything felt hot, like it was caught on fire, now it was the opposite, I could feel the cold wind from outside again.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He slightly tilted his head to look at me again. “Please, forgive me and forget about what happened just now.” His voice remained low.

“Nothing really happened.” I tried to reassure him with a smile. I reached with my hand to touch his shoulder, but he grabbed my hand midair and looked at me seriously.

“I mean it, doll. Forget about what just happened.” His tone was stern.

“Ace, I’m really confused right now, and it’s not because of the alcohol.” I was so confused, what gotten into him out of nowhere. “Nothing happened we are just a little drunk that is all.” I chuckled trying to lighten up the mood.  

“Doll, you don’t get it.” He shook his head again, looking away.

“Then explain.” I snapped at him; even thought I didn’t mean to. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out so har-“

“I’m not the guy that sticks around, (Y/N).” Ace interrupted me. “So, let’s not cross any lines, nothing more than a friendship, okay?” He snapped back at me. I lower my gaze to the ground and nodded. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Believe me, doll... I’m making you a favour.” He got up from the bed and he left the room.

*******

I sat by myself for quite some time not being able to explain to myself what just happened between Ace and me. Did he just reject me? Did I do something to make him react that way? I wanted to go and find him and ask what was all that, but my self dignity didn’t let me. Why flirt with me and then reject me like this? My mind was running with questions. And what was it with all this “I’m doing you a favour.”? All I wanted at this point was to go home. I stand up from the bed and went downstairs, looking for my jacket. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I couldn’t find it anywhere, so I cursed under my breath and left the place. I was partly hurt by his behaviour and also little offended. My phone had only five precent battery left, and the metro was closed so I had to walk all the way to my place. Just before my battery died, I texted Nami, a quick message that I left as I didn’t feel good. I was passing by some club when someone called after me.

“Hey, brat.” The voice sounded familiar, so I turned around and saw Kid. He came to me and gave me a look. “What are you doing here all alone?”

“None of your business Kid.” I cut him off, continuing my way, as at this point, I couldn’t feel my body as I was freezing to death.

“I can drive you home.” He said after me. I stopped and turned back to him.

“I don’t need your help.” I snapped at him.

“Sure, if you say so. Now come, stop being a brat.” He nodded me to follow him. His car was parked close by, so we didn’t walk long. The drive to my place was quiet.

“Kid, can I ask you something?” I broke the silence. He just looked at me waiting for my question. “As an asshole yourself.” I started not sure how to ask the question. “How can I tell if one is into me? Like... help me understand this.” I couldn’t stop thinking about Ace and what happened. Kid side-eyed me and sighed.

“If he is into you...” He glanced at me before continuing. “He will keep telling himself that he is doing you a favour by staying away from you but... he won’t be able to.” He parked in front of my place, his gazing not leaving the road in front of him. We stayed silenced for a minute, and I noticed that Kid was lost in his own thoughts.

“Thank you, Kid. You know when you want you – you can actually be very nice to hang around.” I told him before getting out of his car. “Thanks for the ride.” I said closing the door.

[d-z20]

The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 6.5 (NSFW)

Summary: Agatha must deal a predicament the only way she knows how

Warnings: smut, female masturbation, mentions of dagger

Words: 1.2k

A/N: This sub-chapter is not essential to the plot so you can skip if smut is not what you want to read, I'll try and have the next chapter out soon. Everyone else: see end for notes

If you wanted to give me kudos on AO3 :)

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Before The Dawn (18+)

Agatha was restless. It didn’t matter what she did; she couldn’t settle. Pacing her room a hundred times, wearing a path into the floorboards. All she could think about was Rio. Her face, and the way she had looked at Agatha.

The hours stretched on, each minute heavier than the last. Agatha lay on the edge of her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind a storm of thoughts and feelings. The memory of Rio’s eyes—sharp, knowing, and full of something more—refused to leave her. It was like a spell cast upon her, lingering in the air, thickening the silence of the room. She tossed and turned, unable to escape the electric pull that had taken root deep within her. The longing coiled in her chest, but it had also settled between her legs. A visceral ache that she could not shake, no matter how much she willed herself to let it go. 

Always confident in her appearance, Agatha’s clothes had been ditched as soon as she realised she wasn’t going to sleep tonight. It was an added bonus that if Rio did decide to return, Agatha would be ready for her. 

Each time she closed her eyes, it was Rio’s face that she saw, her dark eyes filled with something dangerous, something enticing. Agatha had never felt this before—had never known what it was like to want someone with such intensity. It was more than attraction. It was a need, a hunger that gnawed at her insides like a slow-burning fire. She was used to being in control of herself, yet Rio had unravelled her in ways Agatha hadn’t known were possible. The woman had awakened something—something raw, something wild—that she had buried for so long. And now it clawed at her from the inside, demanding to be acknowledged, demanding to be acted upon.

Finally, she decided she could wait no longer, and she slid her hand between her thighs, gripping at the inside of her leg. She had always found that pain mixed well with pleasure, and her heightened arousal made her even more sensitive to touch, even if it was her own hands doing it. She shut her eyes and let the memory of Rio standing almost flush with her come flooding back. With this, she brought her other hand to her chest and started teasing one of her nipples. It quickly hardened, and Agatha thought about how much she wanted Rio to be sucking on it, nipping lightly, winding her up.

Digging her nails deeper into her thigh, she pictured Rio marking her up all over her body. Suddenly Agatha remembered all of the pet names Rio had given her. She always started them with “my” hadn’t she?”  My love. That’s what she had said tonight. A low growl escaped Agatha’s lips when she realised that Rio was possessive. She wanted to mark and be marked in equal measure.

Agatha’s head pushed further back into the pillow as she groaned, imagining Rio slowly dragging her tongue down her sternum, pressing light, teasing kisses and bites along the way. Agatha was impatient, but the thought of being teased by this mysterious woman, by Rio, by her whisper, fuck it was too much. 

She felt the wetness pool between her legs and moved a hand to her slit, pushing her middle finger in slightly, separating her folds. Agatha was not surprised to find just how wet she was. Back arched up in want, Rio’s name fell from her mouth as she slowly started teasing her clit. The sensation was maddening, and it wasn’t long before she pushed two of her fingers inside of herself. The room was filled with Agatha’s moans, the woman not bothering to control her volume as she thrust her digits in and out, curling them in a way she knew would have her climaxing shortly. 

The arousing building even more, Agatha felt her chest tightening. She was so close. Wanting more, she brought her other hand down to start rubbing her clit in small circles, getting faster and harder, until she came with a mixture of moans and curses.

Panting, Agatha opened her eyes, taking in her room. It was so familiar to her, yet it all felt so new. The hunger inside her was less, but she wasn’t satisfied. She swiped her fingers through her folds, lazily gathering her cum. As she brought her fingers to her mouth, licking and sucking them clean, she felt or maybe heard something shift in the room.

“Rio?” She spoke aloud, almost hopeful. 

Silence was Agatha’s only answer, and she dropped her head back onto her pillow with a huff. Still feeling the fire of her arousal in her veins, she started fucking herself again. It didn’t take long for her body to stiffen as she came again. The third time was somehow even quicker. 

Satisfied, Agatha now thought she’d be able to sleep, but she was still just as restless, albeit slightly more happy; the euphoria from her orgasms was still clouding her head. Making up her mind, Agatha reached for the silver dagger—the one she had once used to shed blood for the coven’s rituals. Tonight though, it felt different in her hands, as if it held a new kind of power, a kind of invitation. Her fingers traced the blade absentmindedly, heat rising in her chest again. She thought of Rio’s hands, those delicate yet knowing hands that had hovered so close to her, like they might touch her at any moment. She could almost feel the press of them against her skin, the pulse of magic between them. She wanted to see that again. Craved it.

With a sudden, almost reckless motion, Agatha grabbed the dagger and headed for the door, her pulse quickening. Remembering her naked state, she quickly flicked her wrist, and at once she was dressed. The night outside felt impossibly alive, as though the world itself were calling to her. As if the shadows were whispering her name, beckoning her towards a future that she couldn’t deny.

She stepped out into the cool, crisp air, the faintest hint of dawn brushing the horizon with a delicate gray light. The moon, now low in the sky, cast long, haunting shadows across the forest floor. After everything that had just happened to Agatha, the forest seemed different to her now. It was a wild, untamed place, just like the power that thrummed in her veins, the force she had been afraid to embrace before. But not now. Not tonight. Tonight Agatha was going to find that power, and she was going to see where it led her.

The wind, still carrying the chill of the night, brushed against her skin, teasing her, as if Rio herself were there, just beyond the trees, waiting for her to follow. Agatha’s heart beat faster, the promise of something dark and intoxicating curling around her like a vine, urging her onwards.

As she moved deeper into the forest, the first hints of dawn began to push back the darkness, and the whispers of the wind seemed to call her name, but they weren’t the same as before. These whispers were summons, like a challenge. She didn’t know what would happen next, but she felt a certainty in her bones: Rio was out there, and Agatha was going to find her.

Next Chapter >

If you thought knife play was about to happen whilst reading the dagger part: it's horny jail for you (I'll meet you there)

[capricorngirly]

“Strawberries & Cigarettes” ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Pope Heyward smau

𓏲܀ Pairing: kook!reader x pope heyward

00:01

0.8k words !

𓏲܀ Warnings for the whole smau: established relationship between pope x y/n, Kiara is kind of a bitch, use of drugs and alcohol, cursing, death mentioned, sex jokes, posible smut later on.

ೄྀ Taglist: @writtenbyhollywood

I hear the door bell ringing telling me that Pope arrived to my house, I got out of my room and went to greet him at the door happily, when I got to the final steps of the stairs it seemed like my dad was already doing so as he was leaving to so God knows what.

“I thought you were coming to visit sooner boy, we've missed you around.” I heard my dad say to him as he gave him a hug, I stare from the stairs smiling, Pope returned the hug and looked up,his gaze and mine colliding, he smiled too. “Sorry sir, had a lot of work with the shop and everything going on” he broke the hug, my dad waved goodbye and got out of the house closing the door behind him, Pope took off his hat, placed it on the counter next to the entry and started walking to me still smiling.

“Hey there baby” he said letting out a chuckle as he hugged me picking me up from the ground a little “Hi love” I answered giving him a peck, he put me on the stairs again and took my hand as I offered it to him, we started going up the stairs to my room.

When we finally got to my room, I closed the door, locking it behind us, smiling I pointed him to my window, our usual hang out spot when he comes over is my rooftop, either to drink, smoke or just make out feeling the fresh air, as he got out the window I go to get the joint I rolled earlier from my purse that's on my bedside table and my lighter to follow him out the window.

…

As we sat on my rooftop smoking and looking at the stars appearing on the sky upon us I remember the text of him saying we needed to talk.

“You said we needed to talk, love?” I whispered to him feeling how the weed was already making it's way on my system. He turned to me licking his lips “I think I’m ready to tell the pogues,” He whispered back looking directly in my eyes but with a relax expression on his face.

I examine his face before speaking myself, I know how his friends think about kooks and pogues being together and how they feel about kooks in general, the both of us don't care at all obviously, that's why we're together and I know JJ tolerates me but I'm pretty sure it's just because I buy my weed from him, Kiara and I haven't talked since like tenth grade I think, just some preteen misunderstanding I like to think, I never really talked to John B, don't know a lot more than what everybody on Outer Banks knows and Sarah probably wasn't fond of me either, I mean I'm friends with people who hurt her? Her brother and I can actually get along and my best friend is her new sister in law, kind of, Sofia doesn't really talk about her relationship with Rafe.

“Do you think they will understand?” I asked giving the joint another hit as I heard him replaying to me almost instantly. “Hopefully baby, they're my best friends in the whole world but my only concern is their deep hatred for kooks.” He puts an arm on my knee caressing it slightly as he took the joint from my hands and gave it a hit, proceeding to blow the air in my face, I breathed in the smoke letting out a giggle and taking a deep breath before replaying to him.

“Yeah baby… and guess who's a kook, lover boy?” I asked jokingly with sarcasm touching up his arm that's on me as I lay back on the roof, he laughed at my comment and layed back too starting to caress my thigh with his thumb “Well, then you might be the only kook I like” He replayed turning his head to me as he speaked, I turned too hitting the joint with a smile on my face, I let the smoke out and talk “I sure hope you like me, I'm your girlfriend” I looked at him dearly while he took it from my hand and gave it a hit as I kept talking “Besides, you're probably the only pogue I like so, we're even baby” He chuckled rolling his eyes as he heard me speak, he smiled and started to talk “I was thinking maybe we could hang out with them tomorrow…” He suggested and... tomorrow?

“Tomorrow?” I sat back up way too quickly feeling as if the weed was suddenly disappearing from my organism I know it wasn't possible but it caught me so off guard I didn't even know if he replied.

𓏲܀A/Note: dark theme is y/n's pov light is Pope's <3 unlocked their private acc for each other, also! Keep in mind english not being my first language it is a struggle. 😫 Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist.

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