#listening to the gardens from little big planet while writing shv's entry

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hello can I request Luxiem reacting to you taking off their engagement ring (assuming them and reader are engaged)? The situation can differ per member. Also if you’re not comfortable doing all members then at least Vox, Shu and Ike will be okay. Thank you!

oooo i saw “the situation can differ” and i took the fattest sip out of my coffee. i love drama. if you’re looking for something specifically fluff or angst with your oshi i hope the rng works in your favor

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, engagement and marriage, fluff, angst, breakups, arranged marriage, misunderstandings, unrequited love alternate universe, reader gets sold to one direction, i popped off a little too hard on some of these so sorry if you can detect a bias 😔

⚠️ forced marriage, implied dubcon (non-explicit), yandere(?) in vox’s entry

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland

Ike spent all the time in the world examining every last ring at the jeweler's with the eye of a detective, whittling down each choice until he found the perfect ring to propose to you with.

Now he looks back at the white gold and how it reflects his face as he holds it up close, glasses up on his forehead while his nearsighted eyes take it in. The diamond in the center divides his reflection up in facets that gleam even as his shadow covers the overhead light, while the two sapphires on either side make the blue in his eyes all the more prominent.

He thought he had it all planned out, and he wasn't so presumptuous that he knew everything would go like how his wildest dreams unfolded, but he thought he had done at least something right. The moment he got on one knee was the number-one proof there was magic in the world.

So why, then, isn't the engagement ring in its rightful place on your hand?

He turns it over, inspecting the band as if there would be a clue engraved on the metal. Nothing, and it makes the growing panic in his head all the louder. You've already left the home much earlier that day, and he hasn't gotten a single text from you since. That's not surprising—he's clingy but not so much that he needs updates from you 24/7—but it's gnawing at him. You were so happy when he proposed that you cried with him, and your eyes rarely left the band around your finger. You swore you'd never leave it behind with wet eyes and the biggest smile in the world.

The memory just makes Ike all the more confused. He found it in the bathroom, on the sink counter like just any old piece of jewelry, even though you always keep it on your nightstand in the same place every day. It's a ritual to slip it on every morning and take it off every night, and there's been more than a few times Ike placed it on your finger before anyone's left the bed, as if the magic of the proposal still lingers with every day he's your fiancé.

At least, he thought it did. Something about plans and not being presumptuous, and doing something right. Or God forbid, doing something wrong.

He clutches the ring closer in his hand as he kneels on the bathroom tile, the cool metal turning warm with how long he's been holding it, while he puts the last few days on replay. Did he ruin something without noticing? He dreads the thought, and when he can't think of any recent transgressions, he tries to recall every day since the proposal.

Anxiety dyes the memories over. He always treasured every moment, even the imperfect ones where he's made a fool of himself (because what else is he supposed to do when he's in love like nothing else), but now he's starting to realize that he could've done better. He should've done better.

He's so lost in his thoughts and the labyrinth of deceit they invite that he doesn't recognize the world around him, even as the home comes to life while he sits still. He ignores the latching of keys and doors opening and closing. The only thing that snaps him out if it is footfalls along the flooring, slowly growing in volume as they approach the bathroom, until they're interrupted by the door creaking open and—

"Holy—Ike! You scared me!" Your hands are raised, startled, but lower to your side. "I just got home, and I was wondering where you went and... Why are you on the floor?"

Count another moment of foolishness. Ike returns to the waking world, where he sits on his legs over the tile of the master bathroom of the house, hands cupped around the engagement ring and the one he cares for above all else behind him, and yet still he can barely muster the strength to raise his head, much less speak out loud.

"Reader," he says. "I, uh, I have a question."

The words end there, and too ashamed to look up, he brings his hands out instead. Diamond and sapphires shine through his palms.

He hears a sharp intake of air. A gasp. Of shock, certainly, but whatever fuels it is lost to him.

"No way, you found it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You plop down on the floor right next to your fiancé, leaning along his shoulder in disbelief. "It wasn't in any of my pockets, and I was just about to turn the house upside-down. Where was it?"

"I'm not sure how to approach this," Ike mumbles, before fixing his glasses and raising his quiet voice a bit louder. "It was in the bathroom."

"Ohh, that explains it. I probably took it off to wash my hands, then."

Ike falters. "Wh-what?"

"I usually take it off before getting my hands wet," you explain, as if it's the most mundane thing in the world. It is. "I know gold is waterproof, but I don't want it to lose its shine or anything."

"Right. The shine."

Ike Eveland, certified idiot, at your service.

The ring sits pretty in one hand while the other runs through his hair. Another foolish moment, but with your head up on his shoulder, his anxieties calm.

Fingertips rest along his palm, and when he looks at its source, you return the gaze. Your eyes sparkle nearly as bright as the gemstones, but your lids are lowered, trying to discern something. "Ike, you look like you have something on your mind."

"I do, don't I." At that, he muffles a laugh, fingers still tangled in his ashy hair. "No, I'm just glad that the ring reunited with its owner."

"Thanks again." You nod, the elated smile on your face fading into a dopey one. "Can you...?"

The exchange is wordless, and in his palm, warm. Ike takes the ring and turns it upright, while the hand it rested on takes yours instead.

Every morning when the both of you are too sleepy to even speak, he manages to treat your hands like fine crystal glass, and still he does now, with your palm resting under his grasp and fingers dangling out. The metal's temperature doesn't shock you at all. It's an extension of you, even when it was under Ike's watch.

Ike affixes the band with care, lashes and disheveled hair covering his eyes as he focuses, but you can discern the small, struck curve in his lips as he twists the band into place, certain it won't budge for the rest of the day.

You start to raise your hand, but before you do he gently tugs it back down, still focused on the way the engagement ring gleams. Then up at your knuckles, and higher on your arm until you can see a hint of green through the lashes. That green blinks back under his eyelashes as he lifts your knuckles to his lips.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro

It's late. You haven't checked the time in hours, but it's dark, and the false daylight from the old floor lamp in your living room cuts through the night in the window.

You should be asleep by now. You haven't gotten a good rest in what feels like forever. You've always been too worried, and when worry eased it turned into hollowness, even when the other side of the bed sinks with added weight.

You sit along the couch in the corner you always occupy on late nights when Luca is out. Whenever he comes back, he always wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. A metallic scent follows him.

The door opens. Warm arms envelop you. Squeeze. Lips against your hair.

You don't have it in you to smile.

He can tell. His grin falls as he peels back his gloves. They're tinted darker on the knuckles. "Reader. You've been so distant lately."

"I will be. It'll be better for me to stop seeing you. It's not safe." The dredges of all your past arguments curl into your throat.

It breaks your heart to see Luca so stunned. Months upon months cleaning and dressing his wounds, and you've never seen him so taken aback.

That's one of the reasons you can't go on like you used to.

"I've spent so much of my time telling you to watch yourself, and so much time just asking you to come home," you explain. "You know as well as I do you can take a break. But you don't.

"And I can't control you, but do you know how many times I've had to stay up just to know you'll be safe? To know I'll be safe?" Your fingers tense. "The gunfire outside, the spyware, I stopped ordering packages because ever since that threat last year I've been paranoid one of your enemies might actually leave a bomb at my doorstep. I don't know how you can do it, but I can't.

"And I've spent so much time alone."

Your eyes fall to the engagement ring on your hand. It's glamorous and gold, with tiny diamonds that line the band and frame the large diamond in the center like pawns to a king. Is that what you are to him?

You raise the back of your palm up, and the lamp makes the diamonds shimmer. "What does this even mean? You tell me you love me but you never give me your time anymore. You can't just do that, Luca. Not when I stay up night after night worrying what if you got shot, or stabbed, or kidnapped, and every night you don't come home or even send me a text I can't help myself from thinking that."

"I wouldn't." Luca's big purple eyes make contact with yours. The way his voice wavers and his face is set into a grimace, you know he's serious, and those purple eyes are honest. "I wouldn't get hurt and leave you by yourself like that."

"But you did! There are days in a row where I don't see a trace of you and consider calling in a missing persons case! Weeks, even, and so many times I have to patch you up after a fight!"

"I can take care of myself."

"And I want to take care of you! We're engaged, that means we're in it together, but I can't do this! I'm not some superhero mafioso like you. I'm just-"

Your throat tightens. You were doing such a good job at keeping yourself together, but the diamonds are your chain.

You rip the ring off yourself, and Luca watches in horror.

"I'm just normal."

The ring lands on the table, next to the water stains from the previous tenant. Your fiancé is motionless.

"I'll help you collect your things tomorrow when it's a decent hour," you snap, patience lost. "But you're not staying here. God knows you've found places to spend the night without me."

"We're not over," he says, utterly in disbelief.

"Yes, we are! You can't get it through your head that you're dangerous, and you can't even make up for it by being there when it matters. I'm not safe. How could I ever feel safe when the man that proposed to me is never around to actually protect me? You said you would when you got down on one knee, and ever since it's only been more danger! That's the opposite of what you promised me!"

You snatch the ring with one hand and his own in the other. He winces, and you can see a newly formed bruise where his own band glints up at you. Another late fight tonight, when he could've rested.

You push the engagement ring into his palm and force the fingers closed around it. He doesn't even protest. "Go home. Let me be alone like I know you're so good at doing."

"I'll be back for you. I'll make it right. I swear."

"You had your chance and you blew it. You're lucky I'm not changing the lock before you get your things." You leer, scorned and scarred. "We're done."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino

Your hand shakes, and the engagement ring between your fingers glints in the lighting. The gold is stark against your skin even in the glow, with a pear-shaped stone in the center of the ring that catches the glow in little reflections off the surface of the fabric of your attire and your skin. They start purple, then gleam in subtle rainbows of fire.

It’s an elegant piece with slanted filigree wrapped all around like Shu's flames around your finger. The stone smiles, and when the light bounces off the facets, it giggles speckles of glitter against you.

Shu is so beautiful in white. His eyes are a brilliant royal purple just like the stone, especially as he blinks back tears, and even though his hair is braided back, a strand of hair strays by his right side. He spent the last twenty minutes blowing it out of his face nervously.

Your fingers graze over the gold. The fiery stone lets out a laugh as it slides off your finger.

Shu's hand meets yours. "Let me help you," he whispers, so quiet that no one could ever hear it but you. He shakes too, but he is together with you, and as you present him your right hand, the engagement ring finds its place on your right hand.

He produces another, one that the both of you picked out together. It, too, is gold, but simply bent upward in a point like a chevron. Two stones, one diamond and one deep purple, are placed on the side. One to represent each of you, set together in metal.

"I've been dreaming about this for so long," he admits. His voice is wet. You know your eyes are too, and even though you gingerly wipe them, you focus on how much care he puts into placing the band around your left ring finger, both hands trembling at the excitement.

It takes you time to find your words. Even as you bring out his ring, you're still speechless, and the weight of the gold is both air and boulder. "I love you," you say, because that's all you can think. His band matches the angle shape of yours, but the metal is thicker to fit his hands, and flat enough to reflect your ring alongside his. As you place it on his finger, you brush against his knuckles.

"Reader. Do you take Shu as your lawfully wedded husband, to live in matrimony, to have and to hold, in both sickness and in health, dedicated to him for as long as you live?"

"I love you, I do, I do, I do."

"Shu. Do you take Reader as your lawfully wedded spouse, to live in matrimony, to have and to hold, in both sickness and in health, dedicated to them for as long as you live?"

"I do. God, I love you." You don't retract your hand, and he wraps around yours. The gold weaves between your fingers. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"You have pledged before these witnesses to be joined in marriage, and you have now sealed this pledge by exchanging these wedding rings. By the power vested in me, I pronounce you officially married!"

You barely hear the officiator before Shu leans in. You meet him where your wedding ring presses against his skin and the engagement ring spreads royal freckles across his face.

You're set alight, gold on gold, lip against lip. You take his first kiss of many as a newly married man.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma

The Lord Akuma may be self-assured, but he knows when his intuition is trying to signal something, and so he approaches you with what you can already tell is hesitation. "My love."

"Lord."

"It has come to my attention—"

"There's a first for everything," you mock.

You know your attitude more than justifies the trepidation. Good. You'll admit that talking back to a noble is a death sentence, and anyone that dared to disrespect Lord Akuma’s name would be strung up for their rudeness.

However, you are not simply ‘anyone.’ You are the royal heir to a kingdom of your own, and your death would bring upon a far worse fate to the Lord than any public execution.

Lord Akuma’s harsh red makeup squints together as he leers—then sighs and tries again, shoulders still square as if that would intimidate you. “It has come to my attention that you reject our engagement.”

Years of etiquette has taught you otherwise, but now, you understand the commonfolk’s urge to spit on the shoes of another. “Of course I reject it. I would never marry someone like you.”

“As you’ve made it abundantly clear. You have my apologies if your time in my castle has been lackluster. Please, if the accommodations have been subpar, or the staff neglectful, just say the word. It will be handled accordingly.”

“I don’t give a damn about your castle. I’m not marrying you!” You snap. “You’re a disgusting pig of a warlord. My kingdom will never accept this.”

“Is that truly what you think?”

You nod, hair in your face and teeth gnashed together. “They’ll come for me. They’ll stand up against the empire we’ve been at war with for the abduction of their royal heir.”

“I’m afraid that’s not how it works, my love.”

“And quit calling me that!”

“Look at me.”

In an instant Lord Akuma lifts your chin with a finger, forcing you to face him even as you try to turn away. “But that is who you are.” Vox’s eyes, a pallid yellow most days, turn darker than sunsets. “Despite your kingdom’s political climate, you are no ruler. A heir, yes, but no ruler. Making your own choice in marriage was never an option.”

He produces the ring, a gold band in a traditional style practiced in his empire alone. You’re no jeweler, but it’s clear it’s a heirloom passed down from blood to blood until it fell into Lord Akuma’s hands. You don’t need a artisan’s knowledge to know those rubies feel much heavier than they look, either.

“I was heartbroken to see you left this behind in your room,” Lord Akuma said, coolly and evenly, and certainly not heartbroken at all. Ice slides down your spine as you realize that hesitance wasn’t out of fear at all. No, you’ve underestimated him entirely. “Especially after the true rulers of your kingdom, your parents, accepted the terms and gave me their blessing.

“If you see me as simply a political figure, then I’m sure you can recognize you aren’t half of the politician you claim to be.” His grin grows wider. “Perhaps a bargaining chip is a better title.”

Your vision flares red, then white as you thrash. “You—“

“Hold still.”

Lord Akuma’s grip is startlingly strong. His nails dig into the sides of your cheeks as he shoves you against the wall.

As much as you try to slip away, the Lord Akuma is the general of his army as well as a noble, and has dealt with much more cunning minds than yours. He pins you down, hot weight pressing your arm away while he catches your left hand.

“It would be wise not to resist me,” he commands.

Still you writhe, even though Lord Akuma shifts his weight to disable you further. Your knuckles are turning white under his grip.

Your strength is on the verge of giving out, now that the adrenaline is wearing off, and Lord Akuma is no longer shocked. You grunt and force every last bit of energy into your fist, but his fingers weave around yours, pulling your fist apart until he wrests the ruby ring onto your finger.

“You bastard,” you hiss. You must be a wreck right now, in improper dress and sweltering under Lord Akuma, and with every last courtesy abandoned in your hatred. The exhaustion from the fight fuels both anger and humiliation, especially now that Lord Akuma is so close. “You’re sick, Lord Akuma.”

He looks down at you, and has the gall to look disappointed. “My love, your fiancé’s name is Vox.”

You growl. “I hate you, more than anything.”

Vox is barely an inch away, and grins as he closes the distance. His teeth point daggers. “Then kiss me like you hate me.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#luxiem x reader #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #shu yamino x reader #vox akuma x reader #ike eveland #luca kaneshiro #shu yamino #vox akuma #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #luxiem #ike eveland fluff #luca kaneshiro angst #shu yamino fluff #vox akuma angst #4402 writes #listening to the gardens from little big planet while writing shv's entry #i'm also the loudest crier at his and reader's wedding these two things are correlated