#but people are getting waaay too carried away with this idea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catzula · 3 years

Text

A kiss to warm your heart

A/N: Ahh I missed writing for Bakugou and its been a while since I had this much fun writing anything, I hope you guys enjoy it too >:(

And uh lets not make this one flop pls 😦

Pairing: bakugou x reader

Warning: cursing

Genre: fluff! Mutual pining, some jealousy but not very prominent

Synopsis: going to a skiing trip for the weekend with you friends sounds like a good idea (not as much when you realize your crush, Bakugou Katsuki is coming, too!), but it's a bit hard to actually get to skiing when you can't ride the chair lift.

"Dips on the bed next to the window!" Mina rushed into the room, throwing herself on the said bed. You sent her a fake pout as you settled on the other bed, not really caring about it's location, but it was fun to guilt-trip Mina. She gave you a crooked grin as she laid her luggage on the ground, already unpacking.

"Change into your skiing clothes, Kiri told me we're going to go skiing in about half an hour."

"What? No! We just came, I'm tired." You protested, throwing yourself on the fluffy hotel bed, groaning and hoping you looked as yitrd as you felt so she would leave you alone.

"Y/N, stand up and wear your ski clothes? Please?" Mina held you by the arm, lulling you off the bed and thinking you were a little too strong for your own good.

"Oh, come on," she groaned when you sent her a 'leave me alone, I'm tired' look, "We're only here for two days, and we should use every chance we have! Also, it's tea time, and they are serving those little free cookies, so I'm sure you'll feel better if you just ate one."

"Yeah, all I need is cookies." You scoffed, making her grin. "Nope, all you need is Bakugou." Mina turned to the mirror and fluffed her hair, trying to look as indifferent as she could, failing at hiding her sly grin as she gave you a few seconds of silence to reconsider.

You sighed as you rushed down the stairs, evening your pace with Mina's. You always hated walking in ski clothing since it made you feel like a burrito: overheated, wrapped with layers and layers of clothing which rustled each time you moved, and very uncomfortable.

"Free cookies, you say? Are there brownies, too?"

~~~

You knew she wanted to talk about something by the way she kept turning at you and fidgeting her hands. "What is it?" You asked when Mina glanced at you for the fortieth time the last few minutes. "If it's about you-know-who, I don't wanna hear it, though."

"Mina-" you started to talk, but she stopped you before you could argue, although you were itching to go downstairs already because you felt like you were going to have a stroke if you stood indoors with these clothes. "Don't Mina me, and you know this is your best chance to confess to him! What are you even waiting for, for him to confess first?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Oh, come on!" She groaned, emphasizing the last word. "If you want to tell him, this is your chance!"

"Well, you're out of luck, then." Mina booped your nose. "We are talking about the worlds biggest tsundere after all. I doubt he'd say anything before you do."

She was right, and you knew it. "I know," you admitted, rolling your eyes at the way she grinned proudly. "But I'm not- I don't want to damage our friendship, you know? And I'm not ready for a rejection." You laughed wryly to ease the tension you were feeling.

"Rejection? Are you serious? You guys are so obvious that even Denki asked me if you were secretly dating. You are almost already dating, just neither of you accepted the feelings towards the other."

Well, it was true. You and Bakugou were a little closer than friends, maybe, but him every so often flirting with you or you meeting his gaze whenever you looked at him (which happened quite often, you had to admit) didn't necessarily mean he liked you back, did it?

"I'll- I'll do my best." You smiled at her, trying to change the subject since you were in the entrance of the sitting area. "Let's go eat something already. Do you see them?"

"Oh, I see Kiri." She spotted, grinning when she saw Bakugou frowning right next to him. "Look, Bakugou's there, too. Hey guys!" She waved at them, running towards the duo and pulling you along. You could see how his gaze snapped up at hearing Mina's voice, the red eyes finding yours immediately and a smirk replacing the frown on his lips.

He had no right to look this good even with snowboard clothes. His spiky hair messy because of the big ski glasses that rested on top of his head, the black, skin-tight thermals enhanced his well-built body, and his orange-striped ski pants looked like they fit him perfectly. You had to admit you were maybe a bit excited to see him snowboarding down the mountain.

"What, see something you like?" He grinned, whispering so only you could hear, frowning almost immediately after that when he turned to Mina. "Took you guys long enough."

"Yeah, don't tell me that, it was her who needed 30 minutes of convincing, although it was pretty easy to convince her after I said- well, never mind what." She grinned villainously when you sent her an 'I'll push you of a cliff if you say one more word' look.

Bakugou quirked a brow at the pink-skinned girl's sudden change of behavior but decided not to think about it much. "Oh my God, I'll pass out let's go ski already!" Kirishima chimed in, pulling on the thermals he was wearing that clung to him like a second skin, and you could feel the eyes that were looking his way as you walked through the lobby. "These clothes are waaay too warm to be wearing inside." He added, fanning himself with his hands.

He was right, and you felt suffocated, too, the clothes too warm, too tight, too much and too heavy, there were too many things to carry with you, all your hands occupied with another ski gear, and you were itching to throw them and run outside to the snow screaming.

You were glad when your friends complied, all making their way to the ski room. You spotted Mina running towards you, and her ski pants pouches were suspiciously full with something that resembled cookies. You quirked a brow at her, pointing at her bulky pockets, only to earn a grin from her. "You know, its a little snack for us to eat when we get hungry or bored on the longass chair lift ride."

"Hey Mina, send me a cookie!" Denki waved to you, making Mina grin knowingly. "See? There's demand."

You chuckled as you entered the ski room. Bakugou was already sitting on the bench, a jet black snowboard right beside him, the crimson of his eyes contrasting with the black of his board and clothes beautifully. His eyes raised to you when you entered the room, a smirk finding its place on his soft lips when your eyes wandered over the pretty snowboard.

You couldn't look away as he leaned forward to tie his shoes, arms flexing as he tightened them to fit his legs better, and your need to go running to the snow and maybe scream a few minutes had suddenly increased.

You were approaching him when you felt someone lightly touch your arm. It was a guy around your age, you noticed, smiling widely at you, and you could tell he worked there by the tag on his chest. Shindou Yo, it read. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, thank you." You muttered, feeling somewhat shy after taking a glance at his smiling face and noticing just how handsome he was. You followed him to the counter when he told you to come with you, making you forget the existence of the crimson gaze that was following you wherever you went.

You didn't feel it, but Bakugou watched you as you gave your name and room number to the charming boy, unaware (or maybe aware?) to his flirty remarks as he pulled out the skiing gear you rented, smiling and giggling as he said something Bakugou couldn't quite hear. You finally realized the dirty looks the blonde was sending you as Shindou kneeled before you to help you wear the ski shoes and gears, but even then, you only smiled and waved at Bakugou, not noticing how he gritted his teeth.

"Oh, fuck this." Bakugou muttered and raised to his legs, grabbing his snowboard and storming out of the room when Shindou laid his hand on your thigh to 'support' himself to stand up. "Bakugou?" You furrowed your brows and tilted your head when you noticed him sprinting outside. You quickly realized the rest of your friends had left, too.

Thanking Shnidou, you stood up, running out of the room, only to sigh in relief when you noticed your friends had gathered right outside of the hotel, Sero trying to help Denki wear his ski gears, but both failing miserably.

"Y/N, right here!" Mina called and waved at you, and it was hard not to see her in her shiny silver puffer jacket. "Oh, I thought you guys left without waiting for me." You spoke, breathless when you finally arrived next to them.

"Aw, we would never!" Mina chuckled. "Bakugou would, though. Did, also."

"What, he left?"

"Yep, said he was going to leave ahead since quote unquote, he couldn't wait for slow extras like us."

You frowned, you thought you would be together the whole day! So he wasn't going to stay with you guys for not even five minutes? "I'm going after him." You informed Mina, skiing as quickly as you could down the small slope, in which's end stood the beginning of the chair lift.

You quickly spotted the spiky ash blond head, holding the giant indigo snowboard in his hands with a very grumpy look on his face. You sighed, and he looked pissed. "Bakugou!" You called out, trying to get to him before his turn in the line came, not so nicely pushing people in front of you to draw near him.

"Bakugou!" You called once again, and this time you were sure he had heard but ignored you. "Hey, asshole!" You spoke, this time in a normal voice since you had finally drawn close to him, touching his arm to get his attention.

"What're you doing here?" Bakugou asked without taking as much as a glance at you and making you narrow your eyes. "What do you mean, what are you doing here?" You snapped.

"I said, what are you doing here? What, did your new boyfriend leave you already?"

"New boyfriend? What the hell are you talking about?" But instead of getting a rational answer, instead of getting any response, you watched as he gave you a soft 'hmph!' and turn back in front of him. You would've pushed the subject if it wasn't your turn in the line, and you were already regretting this as you entered the chair lift right after him.

~~~

"What the hell is your problem?" You muttered after sitting in silence for a good 15 minutes, you still had about 5 minutes till you landed, but it was enough for you to have and end this conversation, you thought.

"What is my problem? What the fuck is your problem? You were the one who chased me till here, after all." Bakugou growled in response, pulling the black ski mask down to his chin as he spoke. "I chased you because you left us and went ahead! We came here as a group, so why would you go off alone?"

"And what the fuck is this new boyfriend shit you're talking about?"

"Oh, you just had to bring him up." Bakugou muttered under his breath. "Shut up, idiot. We're going to land in a minute, so raise your legs." He instructed, pulling the safety bar over your head when you complied.

"You ready?" He asked when the chair came to the smooth surface, knowing very well how you struggled each time you landed from these things. "Okay," he answered when you nodded, instinctively taking your hand in his gloved ones, "one, two, jump!"

He jumped with you, holding and pulling you to himself when you lost your balance despite his instructions, and you could feel the breath he exhaled as he chuckled on your hair. "Don't laugh!" You frowned, only making him laugh harder. "Whatever, come here so the next ones to jump won't run into you." Bakugou pulled you to the side.

"Oh, look, Sero and Mina are in the ones right after this one!" You told and pointed to your friends, Mina waving in her hands in her seat like mad and shaking the chair in mid-air.

"I'm never riding this thing with Mina again." Sero took a breath of relief as they jumped down from the chair, too. "Don't worry the next ones are the single chair ones." Mina assured him with a cheeky grin, her response making both you and Bakugou gulp audibly.

"Oh, fuck."

"Oh, no!" You cried out.

"What's happening?"

"Oh, that's okay, Y/N, even I fall sometimes!" Mina assured you, not aware of how your situation was. "No, you don't understand." You told her. "I suck at them! I have the 1 out of 20 chance of arriving at the end of them without falling!"

"Oh my god." You rubbed your temples.

"She can't ride those single seat ones for her life." Bakugou answered instead of you.

"Yep, she's not even exaggerating." Bakugou assured her.

"Are you sure, you know we can help-"

"Shut up, raccoon eyes." Bakugou growled at her, making her shrug and wait in the line. "Okay, now." Bakugou turned to you. "Stop being so stiff. It's fucking easy if you just relax."

Mina quickly became aware of how sincere you were with your 18th failed attempt at the single-seat chair lifts. "You guys go ahead," Bakugou finally told them. "I'll help this idiot and come right after."

"I'm sorry for not wanting to fall on my butt again!" You gritted through your teeth as you nervously eyed the lift. "You won't fall on your ass if you just do as I say!" Bakugou snapped back. "Look at me, dumbass. It's alright."

He frowned when you stood still. "Look, I'll sit at the one right after you, okay? I'll catch you if you fall."

"Promise?" You asked, smiling when he nodded. "Well then, let's do this."

You watched as Kirishima went first, Denki going second, Mina following him, and Sero going right after. "Your turn, dumbass." Bakugou nudged you. "Look, we can try it a few minutes later if you don't feel ready-"

"No, no, it's okay." You smiled. "I can do it if I know you're there to catch me."

And you did.

For the first time that day, you managed to go more than a meter, still as stiff as ever, but a feeling of relief bubbling inside of you as you knew Bakugou was right behind you. "Whoo!" Mina cheered when she noticed you were riding it without falling the past minute.

"Did she do it?" Denki shouted from in front of you, and you giggled when you heard Kirishima whistling from the beginning of the line. "Did she do it, did she do- fuck!" You heard Denki's muffled curse, eyes widening in horror when you realized he fell as he tried to look back at you.

The idiot he is, Denki didn't even think of skidding to the side so he wouldn't cause Mina to fall, too, but he did. Mina accidentally kicked the blond, who sat dumbly on the floor, with her ski gears when she tried to raise her legs so she wouldn't tangle with him, but she did anyway.

"Oh, fuck, stand aside, stand aside!" Sero cried out, but the two on the ground were panicking and weren't thinking as they kept sitting in the middle of the path. Luckily, Mina managed to throw herself into the soft pile of snow the last second before Sero crushed into her, but Denki wasn't as quick.

"Denki, don't you fucking dare!" You shouted.

"You fucking idiot! Stop it, you're going to make me fall, too!" Sero shouted when he noticed Denki was sitting there intentionally, reaching and grabbing Sero's seat, making the gear pull the both of them.

You would've laughed at the sight if you weren't so scared of falling, since watching Denki hang from a seat by hands and the rest of his body get dragged on the snow, his face and body buried in the snow and screams muffled by all the snow he was eating as Sero slapped his fingers and tried to kick him off, was a sight to behold. But you let out a silent scream when Denki let go of Sero's seat, eyes finding you, his next prey.

"Kick him in the fucking face!" Bakugou shouted from right behind you, but you had lost your balance before you could even comply. Letting go of the rope you were holding on to, you let yourself fall on the snow and immediately retracting to the soft snow pile off the road.

"Bakugou?" You turned around, and Bakugou couldn't help but think how cute you looked, face red from lying in the snow, hair tangled. "Did Denki make you fall, too?" You chuckled, not even trying to stand up, snow was pretty comfortable, you realized.

"You could say that." He shrugged.

You were laying face down on the snow, chest heaving as you waited for your heart to slow down. "What the fuck are you doing there, or are you dead?" You heard a familiar voice call from behind you.

"What does that even mean?" You smiled knowingly. "Or did you jump after me?"

"Hm, and what if I did?" He kneeled on the snow, leaning in, his face so close that his warm breath and caramel scent the only two things you could register for a few seconds. "I promised I'd catch you if you fell."

Bakugou hadn't expected to hear you chuckle when he said that, and he wasn't sure if he was happy or angry about it. "Well, you didn't do a good job, did you? I am lying in the snow, after all."

You had a point, and knowing that caused Bakugou to frown. "I'm leaving you here." He sighed, standing up and cruelly kicking some snow on your face, too.

"Hey, no, wait! Come back, Bakugou!" You cried out. "I can't stand up, my legs stuck!" It was true since your ski had sunk in the snow at a very odd angle when you threw yourself over it, making your ankle hurt when you moved it even an inch. "Bakugou! Please!" You called out one more time, not expecting him to sigh and turn back to help you.

"How did you even do this?" Bakugou asked as he examined your leg, touching and pulling it slightly, rolling his eyes when you whined to tell him it hurt. "Stop being a baby."

"It hurts!" You answered at the accusation, feeling somewhat awkward as he inspected your legs closely, as you lay there watching the sky or playing with the snow, making snow castles, groaning every so often when he pulled at your leg. "Okay, I'll take off your ski now- Y/N, what the fuck? Stop playing with the snow and help me!"

"What am I supposed to do- ow!"

"I don't know... talk about your new boyfriend or something." He spoke, narrowing his eyes at the thought and pulling your leg a bit too harshly. "I untied the ski, but you have to pull your leg." He instructed.

"I'm bored of this new boyfriend issue, I don't even understand what the hell you're talking about!" You whined as you did as he said and pulled your leg despite the sharp pain. You actually did have an idea of what he was angry at, but it was so dumb, you didn't even want to think he was jealous of a guy you talked to for 5 minutes tops.

"Ah, fuck." You moved your now fee leg, brows furrowing when you felt a sharp stab of pain. "I think I injured it."

"I'll take you back to the hotel." Bakugou sighed, sitting on the floor to untie his snowboard as well. "Can you walk?"

"I'm not sure." You answered honestly. It hurt a lot to walk in unpressed snow since it was already hard to walk in it without being injured. "Okay, wait a second." He stood up, leaning towards you. "Bakugou what are- oh." You stood still as he snaked his arms beneath your leg and back, pulling you to himself and lifting you to his chest.

"I'm willing to bet you won't be able to walk." He huffed, his warm breath touching your neck. "Yeah, but are you sure you'll be able to carry me all the way to the hotel?"

You smiled when he quirked a brow at you as if to ask, are you challenging me?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" He smirked proudly. "Are you okay? Comfortable? Is your leg okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry." You chuckled, leaning back into him and relaxing between his arms. It felt nice to be in his hold. "Let's go, quick, since I'm sure my new boyfriend's very worried too." You teased, your words bringing his movements to a halt.

"I won't have mercy and drop you face into the snow." He growled, but you grinned cheekily. "No, you won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Hm," you nuzzled to him, you could hear his quickening heartbeats. "I think you like me a bit too much for that." You muttered, feeling braver than you probably should, trying to hide your nervousness with a smile.

"Well, maybe I do." He whispered, his eyes locked on your lips. "But I have another way to get back at him."

"And what's that?"

"I can kiss you, you know. Make him as jealous as I've been feeling this whole day."

You leaned towards him as well. "I'm not complaining." You smiled, closing the gap between your lips and smiling into the kiss. Bakugou could feel the warmth of the kiss spreading to his chest.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha scenarios #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha bakugou

182 notes · View notes

ahjustroza · 3 years

Note

hey hey! can i request a five senses with Felix? :3 thank

I hope I understood this ask right lol. Send another ask away if that is not what you meant!

Five Senses W/ Bae (SFW)

Touch

Let's start with how he feels like under your touch

Felix is very soft in general

I feel like he has some scars then and there from his days in the war

Some thin scratch marks on his hands that are barely visible and some other in different parts of his body

You can tell they healed well and are only visible if you take extra attention looking at his body

His hands are always moisturized and soft

He uses body lotion and most definitely smells amazing at all times

His hair is soft as well and again, smells great

I can picture him with small pimples on his forehead when he eats junk food or anything fried in oil

But those are only present for max two days, then disappear

He refuses to touch his pimples because he doesn't want them to leave a scar

I feel like he is always warm too

Oh he does get cold for sure, but his body temperature is always warm

Cuddles with him is waaay too comfortable because of how soft and small he is

A couch potato almost

Now... the way he touches you...

His fingers wander on your body like feathers

Leave the spot he touches warm

So so so very gentle

Felix is the little spoon but that doesn't mean he won't remind you of the power he has over you

He will touch your arms, lock your fingers and press his face to your neck or your chest

Will rub his nose to your neck or your cheek, demand your attention

He will make physical contact with you or stay close to you every time and everywhere when you are together

Will press his leg to yours when you sit next to each other

Will lean towards you to rest his head to your shoulder on the road to somewhere, or just when you go on a date together

He will make sure your shoes are touching when you sit across from him at the table

He will also do your eyeliner if you ask or just when he see you interested in eyeliners

He will also let you touch him anytime you want while other people are absolutely not allowed to touch him without asking

Smell

Felix smells good almost all the time

He does get sweaty after a difficult day out but takes shower immediately when he has the chance

He doesn't like heavy perfumes but he loves floral and light scents

Felix is also very sensitive to smells

He will notice if you change your perfume right away

Will be able to guess what exact scent it is too

But he will also smell whatever you ate during the day too lol

If you eat fried food he'll know

He will ask you if you want to try his good scented body lotions, conditioner, very pretty looking bar soaps, etc.

He will decide which scent suits you the best and after that day you are simply not allowed to have any other scent as perfume

He knows what you like and what you don't so when he decides the smell that suits you, it will almost 100% be a scent you will also like

Sight

Well he is a sight himself, isn't he?

He enjoys aesthetic looks and tries to keep his own aesthetic in everything he owns

That means he can be both cute and terrifying at the same times

He likes luxury because he grew up in such a lifestyle

Old habits die hard, and he keeps luxury in his aesthetic at all times

Even when his aesthetic can get scary in the idea

Like taxidermy

Or books written with blood

Or necklaces with bird skulls

When someone sees those things they would think Felix is someone scary and even shady

But the soft look he gives to people makes the aesthetic look interesting more than freaky

Like he is a collector of necromancy related items

Similar to what we think about people that collect mummified bodies and opens up their own museum to show them to others

Taxidermy is probably very expensive too

He will probably get you gifts he finds interesting to look at

Oh and as much as how he cares about his looks, he cares about how you look as well

He will notice small changes you make about yourself

He will know your body like the back of his hand

He'll know when you get cold and get you a jacket

He'll also know if certain fabrics make you uncomfortable and get you the most comfortable clothes

The best thing about it? He'll make sure to make it all seem natural when he buys you something

Like he will say things like you will look gorgeous and you deserve such fine fabrics

Or match the colors of your clothes

Nother thing about sight is that his glasses plays a huge role in his life

He always carries them with him

But you are the only person in the entire universe that he will trust his glasses to

He'll only let you hold his glasses and will know you will get them for him first thing in the morning

Or whenever he thinks he lost it inside the house

He only lets go of his glasses somewhere inside your shared house (if you live together) because he trusts that you will be cautious of any thread for him while he is vulnerable without a clear sight

He'll ask if you saw his glasses once every week

And he will also know that when he falls asleep with his glasses on, it is you that takes them off and leave them on the sofa for him

Each time you do domestic stuff like that he melts and panics at the same time

"shddjsdvdkfh Thank you"

Hear

Difficult

Not sure what to say about this

Felix is probably able to tell where people are from by their accent

He also has accent himself

You know what this is gonna be wild but I think his accent might sound similar to the way Solas from Dragon Age sounds

I can't explain this with science but I have

Feelings

He speaks another language other than the common language as well so

I also think he is sensitive to the sounds coming from nearby if he is giving attention

But I also think he would space out when he does one thing and not pay attention to what is happening around him

Maybe we can even say he is not the best multitasker?

Taste

He is a picky eater

Oh he eats a lot of things but strict about them

He is the kind to tolerate particular foods even though they are not the best but refuses to eat certain foods

He is a bit of a gourmet himself too

He is good with wines

He is also partly good with eating a balanced meal

When he studies all day he will most probably skip meals but other days he eats his meals balanced

Also drinks a lot of water

Idk I just feel like Felix is always hydrated

But I don't think he can cook

At all

So you either learn how to cook together or teach this child how to survive on his own

Cooking is a survival skill guys

At least learn how to make pasta or cook rice

He probably eats after midnight but refuses to admit it because he wants everyone to assume that he always eats his meals balanced and at certain times during the day

But no

Even the meals are balanced, they are not always in the hours he is supposed to eat

No schedules most of the time

If you can't figure out how to cook, he'll feed you with olives after midnight

Romantically

#fictif felix #fictif games #fictif last legacy #fictif headcanons #last legacy fanfic #last legacy felix #last legacy headcanon #felix escellun #felix iskandar escellun #felix headcanons #some writing

89 notes · View notes

bibbykins · 3 years

Note

So, I just caught up on the mafia series having been offline for a few months (immaculate, as with everything you write) and I have a question if you don’t mind. What's it like when Namjoon and Jungkooks partners interrogate someone together? I want to hear about them wreaking havoc together because we stan strong female relationships

Hi! Welcome back and thank you! And in short? A bloody nightmare and I’m so glad you asked! This turned out waaay longer than I planned but it was fun to write anyway!

Edit: Let me add Namjoon's and Jungkook’s fic for background

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: gore, sadistic women, misogyny sorta (man thinking of woman as a bitch), blood, knives, talk of pain, manipulation, torture, mention of smoking

“Alright, so you won’t talk?” Jungkook huffed at the silent middle-aged man before him, looking at his watch as he clicked his tongue, “Well, I have a meeting to get to.” He shrugged, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Ah, looks like our time with you is up.” Namjoon concealed his smirk.

“Luck you, Seungwon.” Jimin mused, but it almost seemed sarcastic, “Well, do you want to tell us where you funneled the cash? Last chance.”

The man, scoffed, “Or what? You’ll kill me? Leave me here to starve for a night?” He mocked, knowing if he died the money would be lost, and leaving him for a night is nothing compared to the elusive plastic lining the walls and floor of the dingy basement room.

This made Namjoon break into a clean smirk, “No, no, we’ve... evolved.”

A knock at the door made all the men turn to the thick metal of it as the silver doorknob turned. He expected some lackey to gather the men for a meeting, or really anything other than the smiling girl that peaked her head in, “Koo?” She called and the man in question broke out into a goofy smile as the girl basically skipped inside, wearing a pink sundress with a light green cardigan.

“Hi, baby!” He scooped the girl up, giving her a twirl and a kiss on the lips as she giggled, “How’s my Honey doing?” He cooed as he nuzzled into her neck.

“Good! I got up early today, made your lunch- it’s in the fridge, don’t forget- and Junebug and I met up with the wedding planner to work on invitations and whatnot, she’s such a doll!” She gushed and Seungwon scrunched his nose as the engaged couple fussed over one another.

He always wondered what made such a ruthless man like Jungkook bend to the will of someone like her. He had only ever seen the elusive “Honey” in passing, never introduced since Jungkook kept his fiancee’s identity limited to him and his brothers. Although he did understand why he hid her away, she was obviously delicate. Seungwon wasn’t even a fighter but he was sure he could break you in half.

Another knock made him roll his eyes as a woman he did recognize sauntered in and he gulped slightly. Namjoon’s wife carried herself with an air of unchecked power, and rightfully so as her husband’s eyes softened as he glided to her, “Junebug, welcome.” He purred as he placed a loving kiss on his wife’s lips, “Having a good day so far?” He asked, genuinely curious as the most powerful man in the country clung to her every word.

Namjoon’s wife was, in Seungwon’s opinion, a bitch. Seungwon was a golden boy, a rising man in the syndicate. He was gaining more responsibilities, and more money, at a quick rate. It was Namjoon’s wife who took one look at him for the first time and whispered in her loving husband’s ear. She never smiled at him or spoke to him. The bitch probably looked down on him, there was a theory that she was in an arranged marriage with the boss as a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Either way, the next thing he knew was an audit was done on all the finances and all of the money he had been stealing was discovered missing.

He grit his teeth as the woman spoke, adjusting her pencil skirt, “Wonderful day, actually.” She grinned, “The wedding plans are going wonderfully, makes me want to renew our vows using that planner.” She looked at Namjoon with nothing but love, “Wouldn’t that be nice, my love?”

He hummed, “Sounds lovely, my darling.”

Jimin scoffed, “Don’t we have a meeting to get to?” The man rolled his eyes as the couples giggled at him, knowing he was just jealous.

“Right, right.” Jungkook sighed as he turned to his lover, “Your raincoat is in the bag.” The girl hummed as he handed her a suitcase, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She beamed at him, “Have fun at the meeting!” She chirped and he cooed at her before kissing her forehead.

“You know the drill. Be safe, be ruthless,” Namjoon murmured to his wife before they kissed each other, “Call me when you’re done.”

Her eyes flickered to Seungwon for a split second as a malevolent smirk found its way onto her face, “It’ll be quick I’m sure.” She stated simply, “Love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He spoke as the men left the room.

Seungwon heard shuffling next to him and he turned to see Jungkook’s fiancee, who he only knew as (and was unable to call her) Honey, bending over as she shuffled a clear raincoat over her outfit.

“You’d be wise to watch where your eyes land.” Junebug, another name he was not allowed to call the woman, spoke with sharp eyes catching his, “Honey isn’t here for you to look at.” She sneered and before he could even open her mouth, she cut him off, “So, before we do our thing, would you like to tell us to what account our money is?” She raised a brow and he rolled his eyes.

“And how do you know I didn’t spend it?” He challenged and the woman simply laughed.

She looked him up and down like he was trash, making his skin flare with rage, “You’ve been wearing the same pair of sneakers since we met, have been using the same hair products, and your home and car have remained the same.” She deadpanned and he cursed himself internally, “If you spent it, you’d be dead.” She stated simply, “Now, last chance before things get ugly, where’s the money?”

Seungwon heard the leader’s women were participating in business, but he didn’t expect interrogation to be something they handled. He gulped, not enjoying surprises or not knowing what exactly they can do. He knew how the leaders made people squeal, but the women? He had no idea. However, he remained silent, jaw clenched as he held his silence and her gaze in spite of the metal clinking next to him.

She raised a brow before clicking her tongue, “You’re gonna make me put on a raincoat?” He remained silent as she rolled her eyes, “Fine, Honey, you’re up.”

The cheerful woman hummed as she walked up to him, face behind a shield and hands with pink gloves on as she held a thin knife, “Okay, so you tell me where the money is, and I’ll stop, okay?” She held up the symbol in her gloved hand before giggling, “Wow, usually it’s just for inside info but now I’m like ‘where’s my money?!’ like a real mafia person!” She turned to Junebug with a childish grin that the woman returned, now donned in a raincoat and patting the woman’s head.

“So cute.” She cooed, “Now, be safe, be ruthless.” She spoke softly and Honey nodded.

“What are you gonna do? Take my finger off?” He scoffed and the way he made the woman giggle unnerved him.

Her eyes landed on him, much darker now as she scanned his form, stopping at his forehead, “Hey mister, you’re sweating quite a bit now. Are you nervous?” She asked and he remained silent, “Did you know stress can make pain worse?” She leaned forward, lips close to his ear and she sniffed lightly, “Uh oh~ we got a smoker!” She sang, stepping back and sinking to her knees, “Nicotine hinders blood flow to joints, making healing so slow.” She pouted and he suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable with the way she glided a sharp knife along his legs, “Okay, here we go!”

The pain was blinding, but the cruelest part of it is that it was not fatal. He never saw where she stabbed him, he couldn’t bear to open his eyes as the pain radiated throughout his body, most concentrated in his left knee. He couldn’t breathe as he focused on not saying a word and heard a chuckle from one of the women, “Didn’t you hear her, old man? She said stress makes the pain worse.” A wicked cackle followed as he pressed his lips together.

“The beautiful thing about pain is that it’s all in your head.” Honey taunted, “The brain doesn’t feel pain, chemicals from it tell you that it hurts.” She explained with a wicked lilt to her voice, “I could be poking you, but if I have a big enough reaction-” She gasped loudly and pain shot through him like a bullet but there was no gunshot, “You’ll cry your little heart out.” She chortled, “Like a baby.”

“You think I like wearing a raincoat waiting for pigs like you to squeal?”Junebug spoke, “I don’t want to be doing this to you, Seungwon, I really don’t.” Her voice was softer, almost pitying, “But you forced my hand, Honey’s hand.” She clicked her tongue like she was scolding a child, “We don’t like to hurt our family, so why do you like to hurt us?”

He panicked, the tenderness in her voice getting to him, offering solace from pain. This went on for what felt like hours. Each time Junebug would speak, Honey would cease her torture. They were training him, like a dog. They were getting him most comfortable with speaking with Junebug, just so he would salivate at the chance of talking with the woman. Junebug spoke honeyed words about how important he was, how vital he was to their group, making it seem like they were doing him a favor by torturing him. It had to have been a whole day by the time he gasped out the account he put the money.

He was delirious, and mercy was a greater reward than any cashout as the blood from the slit on his forehead seeped into his eyes, “Good choice.” Junebug praised as she wrote down the info, “What’s our time, Honey?”

The girl simply beamed, raincoat off, not a speck of blood on her pristine outfit, “Twenty minutes.”

#yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts #yandere bts au #mafia bts #bts mafia au

55 notes · View notes

tainted-wine · 4 years

Note

What is Hawks meets someone with a mer-quirk (mermaid-esque)? Like during a small outing to the beach or flying over a pool. I mean birds of prey do eat fish ;).

(What’s the point in a list of headcanons when you’re going to make a hundred and tell a story through them WHY DIDN’T I JUST WRITE A FIC)

Having a permanent mermaid quirk sucks.

What’s that? You have the head of a bug? You don’t have opposable thumbs? Your talons prevent you from wearing shoes? Fuck outta here with that weak shit.

When there’s a fish tail where your legs are supposed to be, you get a loooong list of inconveniences.

Getting around in what’s basically a fish-bowl-on-wheels may sound cool to the kids around you, but it’s really a pain.

Speaking of kids, you still remember that day in your childhood when those bullies pushed your tank over and laughed as you flopped about. Assholes.

So, you’ve grown into a pretty salty lady.

Your house is near a lake. No, it’s not because you want to look like an enchanting beauty. The freshwater is just good for your scales and keeps them from fading or cracking.

You had no idea that the winged hero Hawks even hung out in your area. Maybe he was heading somewhere, and your presence distracted him.

From Hawks’s perspective, the glittering scales moving so elegantly in the water below had put the birdman in a trance.

Not that it’s a valid excuse for him swooping down and snatching you right out of the water.

One moment you were enjoying a refreshing dip after a hot day, the next you were being grabbed by the end of your tail, your world spinning as you’re lifted into the air upside down.

Luckily your screams of terror snap him out of his strange daze, and the sight of you hanging in his grasp instantly makes him let go so that you can gracefully fall back into the lake.

And by gracefully I mean flapping your arms uselessly as you continue to yell obscenities until you make a huge splash.

Hawks takes your rapid fire insults in stride, shrugging apologetically and waiting for you to simmer down.

“Sorry, Ms. Mermaid. I guess for a second there, I thought I was about to catch the prettiest snack.”

You had so many questions. Such as: Why the hell did his dumbass think there are fish the size of people in this lake? What does he mean ‘catch a snack’? Is he really trying to tell you that he hunts and kills his own food?

“Here. How about I make it up to you?” He whips out a pen and something else, scribbles on it, and lowers himself to show you a photo of himself with his signature.

“A free autograph from yours truly.” He looks so proud of himself.

This little bastard…

You answer by whipping around and slamming your tail into the water, soaking him and his stupid picture.

You swim back home without looking back.

At first you’re angry that he returns the next day with a large box in hand. It’s a colorful and mouth-watering sushi platter.

“Thought this would make for a more proper apology. You’re a water gal, so I’m guessing you like seafood?”

You eye him suspiciously. Genuine or not, you’re not going to pass up on such an expensive looking meal.

You both enjoy the fresh fish while sitting at the edge of the lake. You’re trying to not look like a total glutton as you swallow piece after piece with just a few bites.

Hawks watches in amusement as he casually eats his own small portion. He prefers meat that walks on land, but that doesn’t mean he’ll say no to a nice fish.

He tries to explain the incident that occurred yesterday. Turns out that his animal quirk runs deeper than you would’ve guessed. You always assumed that his quirk was only his wings, with no side effects to the rest of his body.

“Sometimes the bird part of my brain gets the best of me, like when I spot a big shiny fish from high up.”

It sounds like a real drag, honestly. You don’t have to deal with any innate fish behavior, just your dumb tail…and the sensitive gills on your neck.

It’s hard to imagine suddenly being overtaken by baser instincts as you try to go on about your day.

Hawks leaves the rest of the platter with you, ignoring your shocked stammers about how much he probably paid for this delicious meal as he takes off.

The visits become regular. Sometimes you share food, sometimes you both just enjoy the view. Sometimes he watches you swim.

Maybe you’re just a simple girl that’s easily won over by food and gifts. Whatever it is, Hawks grows on you very quickly.

He shares the many occurrences over the years, the many times that his primitive urges have endangered him or someone else. Some stories are hilarious, some are rather disturbing.

In exchange, you talk about all of the annoyances you deal with in your life thanks to your fish traits.

The two of you don’t compete or claim that one has a worse time than the other. You just…keep sharing problems.

You’re enjoying Hawks’s company. You stopped denying it when you noticed how much you perk up whenever you see those large wings fly over the lake and towards you.

“You may not be able to walk, but I can help you fly.” He offers it out of nowhere one day. It sounds a lot like a date, honestly, but he shakes his head innocently. “I just want you to see what the skies are like. Walking’s overrated, anyway.”

Hawks wraps his arms around you from behind and pulls you into his chest. The closeness has you so hot and flustered that you might start steaming.

But there wasn’t much time to take that in, because your feet are suddenly off the ground, the ground that is getting further away waaay too quickly.

Hawks feels your panic and slows down to a calm, levelled flight.

It’s scary and exhilarating, being carried so high up. Your tail fin flutters and shines beautifully against the winds as you watch the scenery below you pass by.

Once he thinks you’re comfortable enough, he speeds up, descending on the approaching city.

Zigzagging past buildings and billboards is the greatest adrenaline rush you’ve ever felt. It terrifies you how close he sometimes gets to crashing into an oncoming structure, only to swerve out of the way at the very last second. But you don’t ask him to stop, the thrill feels too damn good.

Everyone walks. Few people have felt the freedom of flying.

You hear some of the surprised comments below. “It’s Hawks!” “Wow, he’s so fast!” “He’s holding someone! Who is that?” “Is that a big ass fish?”

It makes you smile. You wonder how jealous some of the spectators are. And as the winged hero carries you into the sunset, you wonder how breathtaking the two of you look from below:

#bnha #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #i'm sorry if you wanted smut #but I was in too soft of a mood with this #i wrote such a long scenario #and they don't even fuck in the end #shame on me

866 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

Text

All in a Day’s Work!

A gift for my very talented and very cute friend, Kana (aka @shimmeryspark)! ;u;

To clarify, the “Shrimp” mentioned in this piece is not MC/Yuu! “Shrimp” is Kana’s Octavinelle student OC! (I recommend checking out the character sheet after reading, since the artwork gives away the twist ending!)

Imagine this...

The evening cast its somber net over Night Raven College, throwing its buildings into darkness. What few lights remained glowed faintly amidst the creeping shadows—like lost souls in the depths of the sea. A chilling breeze swept by, kicking up a torrent of leaves.

Beckoning to him.

Octa A shivered, wrapping his jacket around himself even tighter, as he stepped out into the waiting night. With each step that he took, the trash bag at his side seemed to grow heavier and heavier. The shadows themselves seemed to cling to it, adding the weight of lost souls past.

A pink blur surged ahead, humming a jaunty tune all the while. The spring to his step set his fluffy hair and double ahoge bouncing excitedly.

Octa A stared warily after his coworker. Despite carrying a broom in one hand and a trash bag in the other, the pink-haired boy’s mobility was not deterred.

“C’mon, Kon-kun!!” Shrimp chirped over his shoulder. “The trash won’t take itself out, you know!”

“R-Right…”

Octa A picked up his pace to meet Shrimp’s. Their footsteps, and their bags, rose and fell in tandem.

Night came down upon the pair, smothering them. The howl of a distant wind grazed their ears—that, and the frantic flaps of an owl, plunging into the moonlight.

“I-I, um… I’m glad I have trash duty with you today,” Octa A piped up, his small voice filling in the quiet. “I-It’s scary to do my chores with Jade-senpai or Floyd-senpai.”

“Oh, they’re not so bad, silly!” Shrimp giggled, casually twirling the handle of his broom. “Jade lets me hang out in his terrariums, and Floyd shares his candies with me.”

“Well… th-that is nice of them, but… I’d hate to bump into them in the middle of the night.” The thought of their haunting golden eyes peering out from a curtain of jet black… it sent Octa A’s weak stomach into a series of somersaults.

“Ahaha, really? I always feel safe with them around~” Shrimp’s smile was a beam of light in the dark. “Like earlier today! They helped us out with those mean customers.”

“D-Don’t remind me…” Octa A winced as the memory resurfaced.

When closing time had rolled around, a particularly rowdy group of customers refused to clear out. There had been shouting, cussing, threats made—Octa A on the verge of tears—until Shrimp had fetched the Leeches. Jade, with a composed smile, and Floyd, with an irritated expression.

“Gentlemen, let us discuss this dilemma outside. Perhaps my brother and I can assist you with finding a solution that is agreeable for both of our parties.”

The fools had followed the twins—and as soon as the door shut behind them, a cacophony of horrific sounds rang out. Glass smashing, bones snapping, guttural shouts and sobs. And above it all, Floyd’s wild laughter, with the occasional soft chuckle from Jade breaking through in brief moments of silence.

The twins had returned not long after without so much as a speck of blood on their beings.

But Octa A hadn’t seen those poor, unfortunate customers again since. And he didn’t dare to ask what had become of them.

The mob student vigorously shook his head. “P-People that ask too many questions of Jade-senpai and Floyd-senpai end up… disappearing. O-Or tricked into making a bad deal with the dorm leader. I-I… I don’t like tha—w-whoa!!”

Shrimp leapt in front of Octa A, causing him to skid to a halt. Their gazes locked, pink orbs against maroon ones.

“... You know what, Kon-kun?” Shrimp’s expression was unreadable, each word slow and meticulously placed.

Octa A stared back at his coworker—into the wide, sparkling galaxy of Shrimp’s eyes. All hope and starlight, painted in. a rosy hue.

And yet… the longer Octa A looked, the more and more that galaxy seemed to be swallowed up by the pupils. In the dim lighting, the black holes dilated, grew, expanded… and drowned out the stars.

A bead of sweat formed on Octa A’s crown. His throat, dry.

Then Shrimp brightened and belted out a laugh. “You worry waaay too much!”

“H-Huh?”

“All that stress isn’t good for your health!”

“A-Ah… You’re right about that. M-My doctor says I need to better manage my stress, since it gives me… stomach problems.”

“Hey, hey—here’s an idea!” Shrimp leaned a bit closer, whispering into Octa A’s ear. “Head home early for the day, and get some rest! I can take care of your trash duties for you.”

“Wh-Whaaaat?!” Octa A immediately startled. “ I… I can’t!! Jade-senpai and Floyd-senpai would kill me!! Th-The dorm leader would cut my pay… I’ll have to live off of cup ramen for the rest of the semester!!”

“It’ll be our little s-e-c-r-e-t! I wouldn’t want my good ol’ buddy ol’ pal to burn out~”

“I… I don’t know...”

Octa A glanced down at his trash bag. Before he could open his mouth to protest once more, Shrimp yanked the garbage out of his hands.

“I got this!! Really! I’m tougher than I look!!”

“... Well… i-if you say so.” The mob student awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “I-It’s really nice of you to help me out with this. D-Don’t stress yourself out too much either, Shrimp-san.”

“Hehe. I’ll do my best!!” He pat Octa A on the back and flashed a reassuring grin. “Go, go! Get some Zs!”

“O-Okay. Good night…”

“Good niiight!!”

Shrimp waved and waved at his coworker’s shrinking figure, until, at last, Octa A was long gone.

The pink-haired boy stood—waiting, listening, for creatures hidden in the night. For the beating of wings, a midnight hoot. For the scuttle of nocturnal beings, racing across the path. For incriminating footsteps in the dark.

When Shrimp was certain he was alone, he dug the handle of his broom into his trash bag, then Octa A’s.

“Heeey~ Are you guys still conscious in there?

Weak groans and whimpers crawled out.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and shrimpy!!”

Shrimp tore open the bags in turn, revealing a few trembling students curled into fetal positions. Some bruised, others with bits of dried blood blossoming on their lower lips or from their nostrils. Upon spotting Shrimp in his Octavinelle uniform, the mob students yelped and retreated further into the bags—as though that would offer some sort of protection.

Hehe. How silly.

With deft hands, Shrimp unceremoniously dumped the injured students onto the cold pavement. They landed—on their backs, on their sides, on their faces—with harsh impacts. Their surroundings spun, the moon, the stars, and the sky pooling into a singular color.

Some parts darkness, some parts light.

“I sure hope you bad boys learned your lesson!” Shrimp warbled sunnily, wagging a finger at the disoriented mob students. “You’d better play nice next time, or else you’ll really be swimming with the fishies!”

His words were playful and as light as air, but something in his large eyes and smile seemed… off. The shadows framed his face, his eyes appearing beady and sinister from behind the evening veil. And the curve to his lips… crooked, distorting and warping his cheer.

“Wh-Who are you people…” One of the mobs—from Savanaclaw—managed to choke out. “W-What are you…?!”

“We’re Octavinelle! Founded on the compassion of the Sea Witch herself!!” Shrimp tapped a finger against his chin and giggled. “And me? I’m just the busboy~ It’s my job to clean up after messes. Speaking of which…”

“Time to tidy up!” Brandishing his beloved broom, Shrimp spun around on his heel and began feverently sweeping up the path.

“Gosh, you folks make so much trouble for me…!! I had to clean up the crime scene and now this drop off spot, too,” Shrimp sighed, though the lilt remained in his voice. “Busy, busy…”

The Savanaclaw mob gritted his teeth. Though his body ached and screeched in pain with every slight movement, the anger boiling in his blood propelled him to move. He stumbled onto shaky legs, glaring intensely at Shrimp’s back.

“You… bastard..!!”

He lunged, claws out, for his prey.

“Hup!!”

Shrimp whipped around, reacting just in time. He rammed the handle of his broom right into the mob’s chest—-and the wind sailed right out of him.

The Savanaclaw student went flying, landing atop another fallen ruffian. They collectively groaned, pain reverberating through their bodies.

Shrimp leaned his broom in the crook of his arm and clapped his hands together—once, twice—dusting off the scum that he had just dealt with.

“Grimey guys like you need to wash up before they try to pull any funny business!” he warned, smacking the mob student on the head with the broom’s bristles.

“D-Damn it…”

His curse went unheard, for Shrimp had set to taping his lips together and humming a tune.

“Hmm hmm hm~”

The Octavinelle student turned away and set back to dusting off the ground. A sweep here, a brush there… Shrimp worked his way down the path, his small figure retreating into the night.

The last thing the Savanaclaw mob heard before he blacked out...

“All in a day’s work!”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland imagines #Octavinelle A-kun #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #Shrimp #twisted wonderland headcanons #I hope you like this Kana ;u;#and I hope I wrote your Shrimp well!!!!!#RIP Octa A #unknowingly an accomplice to borderline murder

101 notes · View notes

votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

it seems like some people were disappointed that Tubbo and Sparklez haven’t realized who each other are yet, so in this chapter.... I taunt you even more by not letting it happen! bwahahahaha!

@petrichormeraki

Dream was only half paying attention as he worked. He really only replies with yes’s and no’s and nodding along. He was glad the mask hid his surprise when he found that not all the admin powers were there and even less of the Watcher’s influence. Ranboo hasn’t been given the powers directly, but the fact that they had initially been moved by Grian in the first place was enough.

Like an infection, the powers that were linked to Dream himself and not the role of an admin spread into the fragments of energy and magic the Watcher had left behind. It was supposed to act as a label warding off those who would want to mess with those a watcher had claimed in some form or another, but it was also something Dream could use.

He froze when he recognized parts of the energy, similar to signatures he had messed with before. Ranboo said something and he tried to play it off, but he could tell the new admin suspected something. Dream started actually focusing on the conversation until Ranboo no longer seemed suspicious.

Once again, Dream looked at the magic and realized it resembled that of Philza and his sons. That’s right, the watcher has said something about a third son that Philza lost, other than Wilbur and Tommy. It had rattled the hardcore player. And Philza was an avian just like Grian.

Dream started with something small. He might be trapped for now, but he could still do whatever he could to bring his favorite pawn back.

He paused to continue the conversation with Ranboo a bit longer before getting another idea. One wasn’t enough with him. Maybe with what little there was, he could still find a way to mess with the whole set. But before he could get far, Ranboo was starting to leave. It was fine. Two would be just enough.

Grian started feeling sick, he looked around and saw Tommy and Mumbo sleeping next to him, the bots curled up with each other in their own sleep mode. He tried moving in a way to not disturb them but his head spun. His vision went dark for a moment and the next thing he saw was the floor of his mansion getting closer. He was surprised he wasn’t dead from falling that far, everyone else was too. Everyone was trying to figure out what was going on.

Someone pointed it out. This had all started after his family showed up. Maybe it was their fault. But someone else said that it was just the freak out of losing Tommy. It was the war, one person shouted and then more joined in. They were letting people that made war join this server, this safe place. Who would be next? Xisuma wasn’t making it safe anymore. The new server was a problem and he was a problem.

All of Grian’s eyes started looking around, some of them peering into other places on the server. He just needed to find the admin and set things right. He was still dizzy, but Grian pushed himself to his feet, talons scraping on the ground. He dragged himself towards the front door and then flew into the air. The sky started darkening and thunder rumbled before purple magic swirled around him to help bring him to his destination.

Philza stumbled, putting a hand to his head. Wilbur caught him before he could fall. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t know.” Philza managed to get out, a wave of nausea hitting him. His wings felt heavy and they unfolded, now dragging on the ground. Wilbur cursed next to him and then started talking to someone. It sounded like it was probably Techno. Philza felt weak on his feet, but for a moment the rest of his strength returned. Something in his mind was screaming that he needed to get out of there.

Wilbur called out, trying to get Philza to stop as a raven flew away to escape dangers he couldn’t see.

Crumb jumped as thunder struck and she shifted to a more humanoid form, though her hair retailed her signature calico colors. “Dat was waaay too loud!”

“Yeah, I know. My friend Fundy gets scared by lightning a lot due to him being a hybrid. I’m not sure I could deal with sensitive ears like that.” Tubbo moved a hand towards some burn scars he had. It managed to go unnoticed by Crumb, but Sparklez.

“What happened?” He asked, making Tubbo realize what he was doing. “You don’t have to say if it’s a sore subject.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Tubbo looked down at their feet. “I just got trapped before some people killed me with firework rockets. But that was before. Instead of president, I’m Admin Tub-”

There was another sound of thunder as a bolt of lightning struck near them. Crumb and Tubbo both covered their ears while Sparklez shielded them. He blinked the spots out of his eyes, glad that his sunglasses helped with some of the blinding light. Where the lightning had struck stood a form. The captain assumed it would be a skeleton horse that spawned due to the storm, but it was much taller. Another bolt of lightning lit up the creature and Sparklez drew his sword. “What’s a harpy doing here?!”

“Harpy?” Tubbo asked before seeing the looming form of whatever was being referred to.

“A type of bird hybrid, though normally they’re smaller.. But either way, they shouldn’t be in this dimension.”

“They shouldn’t be in this dimension. Shouldn’t be in this dimension.” Sparklez’s voice echoed clearly.

“Oh my god, that’s not a fucking harpy!” Tubbo exclaimed as he started to fumble for his communicator. He needed to warn someone now.

“God, god, god!” the ‘harpy’ parroted back. Another bolt of lightning lit him up and Tubbo froze as Grian’s bright purple watcher eyes all looked down on the trio.

“We need to run!” Tubbo grabbed Sparklez and Crumb and started pulling them away. Their communicator ended up on the ground in the scramble to run and a taloned foot stepped on it, breaking it into pieces.

Tommy was stirred by his sleep from his communicator buzzing followed by rumbling thunder. He yawned with a small shiver and looked around to see Grian was gone. “Bitch coulda woken us up too.” Tommy complained before pulling out his communicator. More messages started coming in, so he scrolled up to read the first one.

<Tubbo_> Grian’s a watcher again! We need help!

<Tubbo_> We’re in thjgrknilvsfehmdb

<Iskall85> What? Mumbo was supposed to be watching him

<Hbomb94> What’s going on?

<Docm77> Nothing good.

Tommy scrolled through the messages as he shook Mumbo awake.

<FalseSymmetry> Why isn’t Xisuma responding?

<Iskall85> I’m trying to see where his comm is. <Iskall85> shit, both his and Tubbo’s are completely down.

<BdoubleO100> What are we going to do?!

When Mumbo complained about being woken up, Tommy shoved his communicator in the redstoner’s face. Reluctantly Mumbo took it and started reading and Tommy moved to wake up the bots. After a few seconds, Mumbo jumped up. “Grian’s not here!”

“Yeah, I saw! He’s wherever Tubbo is but no one knows where that is! And apparently Xisuma is fucking dead or something!”

“Oh this is very not good!”

“You think?!” Tommy manages to wake the bots up. “Last week he was worried about us, so maybe we can convince him again?”

“I don’t know, it’s a little different every time.”

“Well that’s just great!” Tommy shouted, snatching his communicator back.

<TommyInnit> If anyone gets eyes on Grian or Tubbo, send a message this way. If we can’t at least calm Grian down, I at least want to keep Tubbo safe.

“What’s going on? Jrumbot asked, sounding concerned.

“Something’s wrong with Dad.” Mumbo answered, picking Grumbot up. “Tommy can you fly down with Jrumbot?”

Tommy shook his head. “You know I’m stronger than you. You carry Jrumbot down, I’ll take Grumbot.”

Mumbo nodded and handed Grumbot to Tommy before the two glided down from the nest room.

The captain stood, weapon drawn as Grian walked closer. They moved towards a shop that was well lit and finally he got a good look at the watcher. He did indeed look like a harpy, though corrupted by the watcher magic.

As Sparklez kept his eye on Grian, he felt a pang of sadness as he recognized something. Though for the most part the form was staying consistent, he could see feathers shifting unnaturally, the forms of arms becoming clearer and then fading from where the wings were. He had seen this before back when Crumb was first learning how to shapeshift, not quite sure how it worked. It made his wonder how much of this the watcher was in control of.

He didn’t have much more time to dwell on that train of thought as a wing swept towards him. He swung his sword, the blade cutting into the feathers. There was a screech of pain from the Watcher and he pulled back. He seemed to be ready to attack again but paused, tilting his head. Sparklez watched, trying to read his opponent, but then had to cover his face as Grian flew into the air, making the wind whip around. Before he could recover, he felt what felt like claws against his chest. They were gone a moment later as his back was slammed against a wall.

“No! Tubbox is my friend!” He heard Crumb speak, making him look back up. Grian had grabbed a now struggling Tubbo. Crumb was holding onto Tubbo as wings swiped at her, but she shifted her form and moved around to keep from being hit. Finally Grian started flying, dragging Tubbo along as well as Crumb as she refused to let go.

“Crumb! No! Let go!” Sparklez held out his arms, hoping she would let go and he could catch her. But she didn’t and the two of them were taken away by the Watcher as purple magic teleported them away. The captain fell to his knees, just staring at the now empty space in the air.

A raven landed in front of a building of blackstone and obsidian. It shifted back to human form and hit the button, sending a signal to the warden. He traveled through the nether portals to meet with Sam. Answers came out of his mouth that he couldn’t even understand, but it seemed the warden was able to. He was guided to a platform and soon he was walking across to a prison cell with Dream standing within it.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!grian #dreamwastaken #ranboo #mumbo jumbo #tubbo #crumbl #cuptoast #captain sparklez #wilbur soot #philza

61 notes · View notes

tangledstarlight · 4 years

Text

so apparently carrie just speaks to me on a level i never saw coming and i got this done waaay quicker then expected. on the plus side to that, this one is like. not as sad as the previous two i swear. also btw. do i think bobby killed his band mates? no probably not. is it funny? yes, yes it is. do i still think he’s lowkey a dick? 100%. but he’s also a good dad.

but anyhoo! carrie doesn't need a redemption arc because she hasn't actually done anything that needs redeeming? she's just made some catty comments. carrie is a good person she just makes some shitty choices and is a typical teenage girl. name one teenage girl who wasn't a bit of a bitch at some point? bet you can't.

ANYWAY!! it’s another 5+1 that’s carrie centric.

also on ao3 (link in comments)

trigger warnings! death mentions (because they’re ghosts), mild swearing.

one.

When Carrie and Julie and Flynn are eight years old they watched The Lizzie Mcguire movie together on the big tv in Carrie’s living room.

They jumped around on the sofa, each taking a corner and hoarding their favourite snacks, making deals when someone wanted a twizzler in exchange for a handful of m&m’s.

They sing along to the songs, making up the words when they don’t know them and strutting around during the fashion show.

They gasp out loud when Paolo is revealed to be a liar and cheer when Isabella sings.

Her mom comes down halfway through the movie, in a too tight dress and heels that make no sense for wearing inside, pauses behind the sofa to watch for a few moments before moving on, into the kitchen and then back upstairs. She doesn’t offer to get them snacks or drinks, to ask who their favourite characters are or if they like the songs.

Carrie doesn’t dwell on any of that though, because she’s with her two best friends and it’s a Friday night so they have a whole weekend together and her dad had promised to take them with him to the studio tomorrow and Carrie couldn’t be happier.

That is until they get to the end of the film and she turns to look at her friends, face as serious as an eight year old can be when she realises what could make the whole weekend even better.

“I want bangs like Lizzie!” She declares, standing up on the sofa and jumping once before falling down to her knees, the cushions not giving enough of a bounce. The two of them share a look, identical wide smiles growing on their faces, they’re eight years old and cutting your own hair is the best idea you can have after all.

“I’ll get the scissors!” Flynn is up and off the sofa, socked feet padding across the floor as she rushes to the kitchen. They’re not allowed to touch the knives or the pans, but the cutlery drawer is open to all.

Carrie sits herself on the living room table, legs just skimming the soft rug underneath it as Julie tilts her head in thought at her, brushing her blonde hair in front of her face and then away. Carrie can’t help but giggle as it tickles her nose and Julie sticks her tongue out in concentration but she’s smiling too.

“I think we just...y’know cut it across here, right?” Julie’s holding a section of her hair between her fingers and makes a snipping motion near her forehead. Carrie has never cut hair before, she’s never even really paid much attention when other people have been cutting hair, but that sounds right to her.

She shrugs, squinting at her two friends through the blonde strands.

“Sounds right to me.”

Flynn nods, holding the scissors out to Julie who shakes her head and then Flynn is scooting next to her on the sofa so they’re both leaning in close.

“You sure about this?” She asks, scissor blades opening around her hair and hesitating, just in case.

“Do it!” And Carrie squeezes her eyes shut in excitement. Already anticipating just how cool her new bangs are going to look.

“What the hell are you doing!?” A loud voice has Carrie’s eyes snapping open and staring wide up at her mom who is half way down the stairs and glaring at the three of them. Flynn has dropped the scissors on the rug and Julie’s hands are shaking as she drops her hair. They’d only managed to cut half of it and Carrie notices that it’s much too short.

“I-” she starts, but her mom cuts her off by storming down the rest of the stairs, heels clicking with every step and standing in front of the three of them, arms crossed and glaring. “I just wanted bangs,” she finishes quietly, eyes down cast and biting her lip.

She hears her mom scoff above her, suddenly seeming so much taller then the three of them sitting down, so Carrie stands up too, pushing herself off the table and trying to make herself feel bigger. Her mom just glares harder, head shaking.

“You’ve ruined your hair. Do you have any idea how long it will take to fix? Ugh, Carrie.” She sounds like she wants to say something else, like she’s restraining herself from certain words. But she just shakes her head again, sparing a glare for both Flynn and Julie before turning around and shouting up the stairs. “Trevor! Get down here!”

They wait in silence, Julie and Flynn fidgeting on the sofa while Carrie discreetly tries to wipe away tears she hadn’t realised were falling. Her dad comes down the stairs, black jeans and some fancy loose shirt that hangs open and pause when he reaches the bottom. Takes in her mom glaring and Flynn and Julie sitting quietly and her badly cut hair. Her dad smiles wide and lets out a loud laugh that startles them all.

Her mom turns her glare on him and Carrie feels herself letting out a breath, not sure what she had been scared about but knowing she had been scared. While she's not thinking about that, her mom and dad have started arguing. They do that a lot. Carrie sits down between Flynn and Julie on the sofa when they make room for her, Flynn resting her head on her shoulder while Julie takes her hand, interlocking their fingers.

“Sorry I cut it too short,” Flynn whispers as the shouting gets louder, none of them paying any attention to what's being said.

“Not your fault,” she replies with a shrug, raising Flynn’s head as she does so and making the girl laugh.

“Oh whatever! You deal with her then!” Her mom shouts, and Carrie flinches, just a little at the way she says ‘her’. She doesn’t mean to make her mom mad, but it’s like all she seems to do these days. From the corner of her eye she can see Julie frowning, looking over their shoulders and deep furrow appearing on her brow. The way she looks whenever she’s thinking about telling someone off.

They don’t get to see what Julie might do, because there’s feet stomping up the stairs and then her dad is sitting on the living room table in front of them and he’s smiling again. Even if it’s not as big as before, Carrie still smiles back.

“Don’t think hairdressing is in your future Flynn,” he says and Flynn laughs and it’s like the strange tension that had formed around them is broken.

“Sorry I cut my hair dad,” she says quietly, because she feels like she needs to. But her dad just shrugs, leans forward and brushes the still too long strands out of her face and shakes his head at the much too shorter ones, but he’s smiling.

“It’s just hair kiddo, it’ll grow back. And I’m sure between the four of us we can make this more rockin’, huh? Used to help a friend cut his hair way back when, y'know,” he gets a slightly far away look on his face when he says that but it’s gone in a blink and Carrie thinks maybe she just imagined it.

He helps them cut the rest of her bangs, feathering out the edges and making it look not so bad anymore, then he sits with them, sharing their snacks and singing along while they watch The Cheetah Girls.

And he must drape blankets over them after they fall asleep, Carrie thinks, because when she wakes up in the morning they’re curled together in one corner of the sofa, warm and safe.

two.

Carrie didn’t think she was a bad person. She just sometimes did a bad thing. But she did it for a good reason. At least she thought it was a good reason, it was the only plan she could come up with at least. It wasn’t like she had hurt anyone. Other than her dad's annoying PR managers head. But Carrie had never liked her anyway, they were always too smiley - in that fake, overly friendly way, not like Julie or Julie’s mom who smiled a lot and never in that way that didn’t reach their eyes.

Carrie didn’t like fake people. People who made promises that they didn’t keep. People who made plans only to forget about them.

Her mom had been full of both. Empty promises and forgotten plans. Always saying one thing and then doing the opposite. Always smiling at her with that half smile that never reached her eyes or seemed like it was really meant for her.

She didn’t know if it was her fault or her dads, because she did it to both of them. Made her fake promises and half smiles.

And then she left.

She left before Carrie even got home from school. Mrs Molina had dropped her off at the front door like she did every Wednesday afternoon and Carrie had been excited all day, she remembers, talking none stop on the car ride over, because her mom had promised to take her to the beach.

But the house is empty when they get inside, Carrie calling out and getting no answer and Julie’s mom is looking at a post-it note (she'll remember that very clearly later on, when she's older, that her mom had left a post-it note with a single sentence. Not even a letter) on the kitchen counter, her face going pale in a way Carrie has never seen before. Julie is standing next to her, one small hand holding her small hand as they look around confused.

When Carrie thinks back to that day now, to being ten years old and struggling to understand why her mom isn’t coming home, all she can remember is that it wasn’t her dad that hugged her and dried her tears. Her dad had barely said five words to her before shutting himself in his bedroom with music barely blocking out the sounds of shattering glass. Mrs Molina had helped her pack some clothes and taken her home with her and Julie.

It was three weeks later when her dad showed up at the Molina’s house and took her home.

And Carrie knows he hasn’t left her, has always come back to get her. But Carrie also knows that when she needed her dad the most he wasn’t there. Didn’t seem to have anytime for her at all because he was too busy with himself.

So she starts stealing things. Lip sticks and candy bars and cheap plastic bracelets. The only way she knows how to get his attention is to do something wrong. To do something that is classed as bad.

She sits in the uncomfortable hard plastic chair, eyes on the doorway behind the security guard and waits. They’d called her dad as soon as she’d coughed up a name and number and now they were waiting to see who would show up. The guard might have been hoping for her dad, maybe he wanted to get an autograph, but Carrie knew it would be an assistant of an assistant or if she was really lucky maybe even Mrs or Mr Molina. But only if her dad was talking to them again. He was pretty good at losing people she noticed.

There’s a knock at the door and in steps as assistant she’s never met before, but he’s got a blackberry in one hand and bluetooth headset on, talking rapidly to someone on the other end.

“Hi, I’m here to get Carrie Wilson. I’m Dave, one of Mr Wilson's assistants and I’m hoping we can get this all sorted out with minimal fuss.” He’s got one of those wide fake smiles that all her dads PR people have and Carrie rolls her eyes, slumps down in her chair and stops listening to the conversation.

Maybe she just had to steal something bigger, more expensive. Something that her dad couldn’t ignore her over.

three.

For most of her life, Carrie has been Julie Molina’s best friend. It’s one of the few constants that she can rely on when everything else seems to be constantly changing around her.

Until suddenly it’s not.

And it’s her own fault.

Carrie knows this, knows she’s brought it on herself, knows that the only one to blame is herself. But she does it anyway. Can’t seem to stop herself from saying the words she knows will hurt the most.

It’s almost like she’s watching the scene unfold from above, can see herself talking and smirking, can see the moment Julie and Flynn realise she’s being serious. Carrie can pinpoint the exact moment she destroys her friendship with both Julie and Flynn.

And it’s funny, because on Saturday morning all she had wanted to do was talk to the two of them, to share her excitement with them about everything she was learning while watching her dad record. All the ideas she had for Dirty Candi and how one day they’d be able to do the ultimate collab with Double Trouble.

She’s rewatching an old video of the three of them performing some half-finished song and dance routine between classes, Julie and Flynn trying to help her figure out how to make it flow better for her group. She’s thinking maybe they need to be spaced out a little more, maybe add in a spin or individual moves, with a pen-lid between her teeth Carrie turns to a fresh page in her note book and makes some small notes.

“Is that your group?” Someone asks over her shoulder and Carrie turns to see the producer her dad has hired for his newest album watching her video.

“Oh, no, no! These are just my friends, they were helping me work out the dance routine,” she smiles at him, because she’s proud and he seems impressed and while everyone always whispers how Carrie can get a record deal because of her last name alone, she wants to get one because she deserves it, has earned it herself.

“That one singing is really good, it’s not you is it?” He asks and Carrie feels her smile freeze in place just for a second before she relaxes and shakes her head.

“No that’s my friend Julie. This is me singing now,” she adds, tilting her phone a little in his direction as she sees herself dancing in the middle and singing aloud.

“Huh,” is all he says with a pleasant smile on his face. But Carrie has been around people like him all her life and she knows when someone is giving a fake smile and she hates it. “Well, you let me know if your friend there ever wants to record something, alright?” And then he’s walking away, back to fiddle with dials and bars and talking to her dad. Not even realising the storm he’s unleashed in her mind.

Carrie ignores her phone for the rest of the weekend, doesn’t reply to any texts or acknowledge anything she’s tagged in. She moves silently through the house, her mind whirling with jealousy and anger and annoyance. Julie is her best friend, she knows she’s talented, has always supported her. There’s nothing new about this information.

But there’s something about the producer, watching the three of them perform and him singling out Julie over her, even while she’s sitting right there. It buries itself in her mind, digging in roots and taking hold and Carrie can’t shake it.

The growing jealousy she’s never experienced directed at her friends before.

So wrapped up in her own thoughts and emotions, she doesn’t even realise the moment she comes to a decision.

It is, arguably, the worst decision she could ever make.

(And in a few years time when she's older and wiser, Carrie knows she’ll look back on it and know this was the moment when she let herself become something she hated, fake and insecure. And she'll hate herself more than she does at the very moment it happens.)

All she knows is that Monday morning at school as Julie is smiling at her and Flynn is waving, both trying to ask about her weekend, Carrie plasters on a fake smile (and she hates herself for it, hates the way it feels on her face, hates the way it changes her eyes), she tosses her hair over her shoulder and says the words that burn a fifteen year friendship to the ground.

It’s later that week, when Carrie is at home doing homework and her dad strolls into the kitchen and asks her where Julie and Flynn are that she finally, fully realises just what she’s done.

“We’re not friends anymore dad,” she says, tucking blonde hair behind her ear and trying to focus on her maths work. She can see him pause at the fridge, turning curious and worried eyes on her, his mouth opening to say something when she cuts him off with a shake of her head. “We’re not friends, it doesn’t matter. Just drop it, okay?”

And, thankfully, he does. Carrie doesn’t think she’d know how to explain herself if he hadn’t.

four.

She finds an old demo cd and a tattered notebook tucked between a book on The Rolling Stones and an unopened copy of some Gordon Ramsey cookbook. The name Sunset Curve on a black background stands out to her and she flips it over to look at the short track list. She doesn’t recognise any of the titles but she knows it must have some importance if her dad has kept it.

Walking over to the stereo she opens the case up, pops out the cd and has it halfway into the machine when she drops it, eyes caught on the pull out and the half of a face she can see.

She knows that face. Has seen it on stage more in the last few months then she would like. But he was supposed to be a hologram of some guy from Sweden. Frowning, she slips the pull out free, there’s a printed out sheet of paper folded in quarters too she notices but ignores it for now, instead slowly opening up the pull out poster. Four faces look back at her, and she recognises three of them from Julie’s band.

The bassist who keeps winking at Kayla, the drummer who seems to pour everything he has into the song, the guitarist who looks at Julie like she’s hung the damn moon.

And her – it’s her dad.

Younger, clean shaven, hair a little shorter and without sunglasses. But it’s him, she’d know his eyes anywhere, they look back at her in the mirror each morning. Carrie can feel her frown deepen, bites her lip as she tries to work out why her dad is in a band photo with Julie’s hologram band.

The second sheet of paper crinkles in her fingers and she forces her eyes away from the pull out and unfolds that instead. There’s another photo of the band, and she idly thinks it must be from the same photoshoot because they’re wearing almost the exact same outfits.

It’s an article, she realises as her eyes glance down at the words and then back to the photo only to dart straight back to the headline. In bold block print is the words that have her hands shaking and eyes clouding over in confusion.

A Hollywood Tragedy. 1995.

She looks from the article to the boys faces, wracking her mind to try and remember exactly what Julie’s band looked like. But she doesn’t think there’s any possible way she’d forget any of their faces. Not that it answered any of the questions now crowding in her head.

Because the only explanation she was coming to was fucking ghosts and that didn’t seem like an explanation at all.

Though it would explain why her dad had been acting so strange ever since The Orpheum. Why he’d been cagey and cautious and asking so many questions about Julie lately. If her band had died in 1995 and were suddenly out performing with her kids ex friend, she’d be acting a little weird too.

Carrie can’t stop the laugh that bubbles past her lips, it sounds strangled and half deranged to her own ears and she’s not sure what to do. How to process this information in her hands. She remembers the notebook she’s holding then, a heavy weight in her hand and she can see doodles and words scribbled over the cover. She can’t decipher some of them, but over and over in different styles is that band name. Sunset Curve.

Hands still shaking Carrie sets the cd, pull out and printed article on top of the stereo and takes in a deep breath, counts to five in her head and blows it out. Her mind is still racing but she feels a little steadier in herself. She flips through the notebook quickly seeing nothing but words upon words littering the pages in handwriting that is nothing like her dads.

Opening the book to a random page she reads. There lyrics, she realises with a jolt. Lyrics she recognises. Lyrics she has sung along to whenever her dad’s song came on the radio.

Lyrics he hadn’t written?

She turns to another page and then another, flipping through half the book and recognising nearly every song she finds. She pauses, not realising how fast and hard she’d begun to breath until she’s trying to suck in air as her heart races. Because these are her dad’s songs but his writing isn’t anywhere in this book.

Turning it to the first page she gets an answer as to why.

There, in block print, underlined and circled, the clearest the writing had been throughout it all, as if the owner had been warning people to stay away from it, was the words: PROPERTY OF LUKE PATTERSON.

And Carrie can’t even think to stop the laugh that leaves her mouth, or the small choked sob that follows. She had always wondered why her dad had written and recorded a song called My Name is Luke.

Now she had her answer.

It wasn't his fucking song.

She’s sitting on the ground, back against a bookcase and legs spread out in front of her, making her way through the notebook slower now, taking in each song, when her dad finds her. He’s got his mouth open, like he was going to ask her something when he freezes in the doorway. Noticing the notebook, the cd, the poster. Carrie can’t remember seeing her dad ever looking so worried or horrified.

“You stole his songs,” is all she says as she looks up at him. There’s no need to mention a name, they both know who she’s talking about.

“Carrie–” he starts, but either he doesn’t know what he’s going to say or just can’t form the words, whatever it is Carrie watches as he stumbled, mouth opening and closing as nothing comes out.

“You never said you were in a band,” because that’s another new thing Carrie has learnt today. Her dad used to be part of a band and then that band had died and he had stolen their songs.

“It was–” he pauses again, sucks in a breath and lets one out. “It was a long time ago. And they– they died, Carrie. I went to three funerals. They were dead, but their songs were– His songs were there and they deserved to be heard.” He doesn’t mention their names, Carrie notes as she nods her head at him, her eyes going back to the notebook of stolen songs in front of her.

“You can’t say anything about this to anyone. Any of it. We don’t know what’s going on, how Julie knows about them. If they’re–” He doesn’t say the word, but it hangs there in the silence between them. Ghosts. But he keeps talking, not letting her say anything. “None of that matters. You can’t mention anything to anyone. About Sunset Curve, or about the songs.”

Carrie snaps her head up to him, opens her mouth to say something. To say how it’s wrong and how he stole them and how his first two albums weren’t even really his. But her dad is talking again, and he’s crouched down in front of her now, hands resting on her knees and staring at her with wide eyes.

“This could ruin me Carrie. You can’t say anything, okay? Please."

She looks at him, bites her lip as she looks back at the notebook and then back at her dad. Nods her head once. It’s been twenty five years, even if they were ghosts did it even really matter anymore? (She did her best to ignore the little voice in her head that told her it did.)

five.

When Nick broke up with her, Carrie had cried into her pillow for an hour. She’d watched five different rom-coms and eaten half a tub of ice cream. She’d written a song that Dirty Candi would never perform but helped her get her emotions out all the same.

Carrie thinks she’s experienced heartbreak before. When she fully realised that her mom wasn’t coming back, when she figured out that no matter how many times she was nearly arrested her dad wouldn’t be coming to the mall to pick her up, when she set fire to a lifelong friendship and watched tears she had caused fall.

All of those were heartbreak, she thinks. They’d all hurt her in ways she was still trying to understand. Old wounds that had scabbed over badly and were starting to get infected.

But this heartbreak is different. It hurts, but when she examines the metaphorical wound on her heart it doesn’t hurt to poke at it. Not like it still hurts to think about her mom or Julie. When her dad had found out, he’d told her a first break up was always the worst, but that you could get some killer songs out of it.

(Now, knowing all that she knows, she wonders how many of his heart broken songs were actually written by him and how many were written by his dead band mates.)

The small cut on her heart gets a plaster and she picks up her emotions and stuffs them back into place and she puts her fake smile on her face and by Wednesday when she next sees Nick it’s like there hadn’t been any hearts breaking at all.

She does so well in fact, at ignoring Nick, at pretending the last few years with him hadn’t happened, that she almost doesn’t notice the changes.

They’re subtle really. The way he walks down the hallways. The way he holds himself just a little straighter, but leans just a little on an angle. The way he says onomatopoeia in english class without stuttering once even though Carrie knows he’s never been able to say it fully.

It’s all these little things that people who don’t know him wouldn’t notice. But she does. There’s something wrong with Nick and Carrie, well she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do about it. If she’s even supposed to do something about it.

He broke up with her after all.

So she watches as Nick watches Julie, as he talks to Flynn, as he goes about his day just being a little off. And she doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t do anything. She doubts anyone would listen to her even if she did say something.

It’s none of her business, that’s what she keeps telling herself. Nick broke up with her, and her heart broke just a little and now she has no responsibility for whatever is going on. It’s what she tells herself. She hopes she’ll start believing it soon.

+one.

There comes a moment, Carrie thinks, when you have to choose who you want to be in life.

If you want to be a liar and fake and jealous, and ignore your mistakes.

Or if you want to put aside the jealousy, smile freely and care deeply, and own up to the wrongs you’ve caused.

Right and wrong.

Wrong and right.

Carrie’s pretty sure if someone was to tally up her life choices there would be more marks in the wrong column then the right one.

But she’s seventeen and she’s pretty sure there’s still plenty of time to change it.

She hasn’t stood in front of the Molina’s front door in a long time, she can barely even remember a time when she’d rung the doorbell (that’s not true, she remembers the last time she’d pressed the bell and it’s a memory she chooses not to focus on, there had been too much black, too many tears, and she hadn’t found the strength to even offer Julie a hug, but she’d tried to make Carlos smile and hoped that would be enough.), and she certainly doesn’t remember ever feeling so anxious as she stands outside.

She shuffles her feet, pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and counts to ten in her head. She’s holding a plain brown gift bag in one hand, the rope handle rough along her palm and it’s grounding. She rubs her thumb along and it once and rings the doorbell.

There’s a few seconds of silence followed by the sound of steps on the other side, someone shouting something that gets lost in the distance and then the door is opening and Ray Molina is looking at her. He blinks, an eyebrow quirking up and then he’s smiling at her, like he’s always smiled, warm and friendly and open and real.

“Carrie! What a surprise. Looking for Julie?” There’s mild curiosity in his tone, but none of the animosity she’s always thought should be there. She’d made his daughter cry after all, shouldn’t he hate her on principle alone?

“If she’s around,” Carrie replies with her own smile, smaller and dimmer but she hopes it’s just as real. She’s still trying to work it out.

“In the garage. Knock before you go in,” he nods around to the back of the house, gives her an encouraging smile and watches as she walks away. She hears the door shut only when she’s out of sight. And then she’s stood in front of another door. There’s sounds of laughing inside, the clash of cymbals like someones knocked into them, muffled voices all talking over each other. It all sounds very happy. She hopes she isn't about to ruin it.

She tightens her grip on the gift bags in her hand. When she had thought of what to do, when she had planned out every step and action and word, it hadn’t seemed so daunting. But now that she’s actually here, Carrie has never been so afraid.

But she needs to thank them, she needs to apologise to them.

All of them.

Julie and her band of ghosts.

She frowns at the thought, it only just occurring to her that she’s going to have to explain that she knows they’re ghosts. Though she supposes maybe the contents of the gift bag will do that. She hopes it does, she squeezes her eyes shut and rubs a hand across them.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

She could still turn around, walk away, act like she had never been here, pretend that she’d never decided she wanted to right some wrongs.

She's half a step away from turning fully around when a voice whispers a stern ‘no’ in her mind. She’s not sure whose voice it is, though it is familiar and almost comforting. Blowing out a breath, straightening her spine and pushing blonde locks behind her shoulders, Carrie knocks on the studio door.

There’s whispers from the other side, someone shushing someone else and then Julie is poking her head around the door and her eyes are widening as they land on Carrie.

“Carrie. What uh– what are you doing here?” She asks, confusion clear by the furrow between her brows and the weary look in her eyes. Carrie swallows and does her best to smile, small and unforced. She’s not sure it works if the growing weary look in Julie’s eyes is anything to go by.

“I um…” Carrie closes her eyes for a second before opening them and nodding once. “I needed to talk to you. You and your band. And before you say anything about them being holograms, I know they’re in there. I heard them, actually I can still hear them they’re terrible at whispering.”

Because she can clearly hear someone saying her name and another mentioning something about dancing and a very clear ‘maybe it’s about the haunting?’ ‘shut up Reg!’. Julie glares, this time over her shoulder at where Carrie guesses the guys are meant to be keeping quiet. But she opens the door a little wider and gestures for Carrie to come in. She waits to let out her relieved sigh until Julie isn’t looking her way.

The studio garage looks the same as it always has, warm and inviting and inspiring. She suddenly remembers why they’d always spent so much time out here as kids. But there’s changes too, a drum kit set up, guitars and a bass in stands, clothes littered on chairs and draped over the banister of the loft.

And of course the three ghosts. They’re a pretty big change.

They’re stood looking at her.

Her dad’s dead ex-best friends.

His ex-dead-ex-best friends.

In the months since she first found the demo cd Carrie has done her best to learn a little about them all, out of curiosity more than anything. But it certainly helps now, to know who each of them are without an introduction.

Alex, with his pink hoodie and hat on backwards has his head tilted, eyeing her curiously even as he taps a drumstick against his leg, but there’s also a slight smile on his lips and he even waves awkwardly with his free hand, Carrie thinks that’s a pretty good sign. Reggie has his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet and eyes wandering from her to Alex to Julie to Luke and back again, almost as if he’s unsure and Carrie can’t blame him, she’s pretty unsure too. Luke is glaring at her, sort of at least, his eyebrows are drawn together and his lips are scrunched to the side and his arms are crossed across his chest, and you don’t have to be a body language expert to know what that means.

“Look, I don’t want to interrupt and you can. You can tell me to get out if you want. I just–” She pauses, takes a breath and tries to slow down. “I just wanted to thank you.” There’s four identical looks of confusion on their faces and Carrie really tries not to roll her eyes but she fails. “For saving Nick. Or finding the real Nick again? I’m not sure what you did. But I know it’s because of you guys that he’s Nick again and that he’s okay. And I just– I wanted to thank you for that.”

Whatever they had been expecting her to say, Carrie knows it wasn’t that. Luke goes from glaring to gaping at her, Reggie stops rocking and almost falls in the process, Alex has stilled his hands and Julie has taken a half a step towards her, eyebrows raised.

“How do you– I– We–” Julie starts, fumbles, throws her hands in the air and looks at the boys for help.

“How’d you know we had anything to do with it? Not that we know anything about it,” Alex winces, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say that last bit and this time Carrie means to roll her eyes at them.

“Yeah okay, lets not do the pretending thing. I don’t know all the details, I just know you guys helped him. And that you’re ghosts.” It was Carrie’s turn to wince now. She hadn’t quite meant to blurt that last bit out like that. And now they were really staring at her. And all shouting at the same time while Julie was pacing and Carrie stepped forward and pushed the brown gift bag into Lukes hands.

They all shut up as he held it at arms length and looked at her.

“Just– just open it.” Is all she can say, biting her lip and looking anywhere but at them.

She hears the sound of sellotape being unpeeled and the crinkle of paper and then a soft gasp.

“Is that–” Reggie starts and Carrie forces herself to look at them again. Alex and Reggie and Julie are looking at the notebook that Luke is holding carefully in his hands, but Luke himself is looking at her. Eyes a little wide and mouth opening just a little like he’s trying to find words to say.

“I also came here with an apology,” she licks her lips and looks at Julie, because it’s Julie she really needs to say this too. “I’ve made a– a lot of bad choices in the last few years. And I think… I think a lot of them involved hurting you Jules and I’m. I’m sorry. For being a bitch. For not saying anything. For everything.”

She’s not sure what reaction she is hoping for. Or what reaction she even wants. Forgiveness would be the best, but she’s pretty sure that has to be earned. Or something like that. Julie just keeps looking at her, and Luke seems to realise that she’s not going to say anything, that she needs a moment, so he’s stepping forward, notebook still held in one hand.

“How’d you know this was mine?” He asks and there's such a serious look on his face that Carrie can’t help but laugh.

"Your names on the front page. In like, huge letters, and circled. And underlined.”

“Riiight,” he draws the word out, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he laughs and suddenly Alex and Reggie are laughing too, pushing his shoulder and Luke is saying something about it being 'a long time ago, shut up'. And then Julie is standing next to her, knocking her shoulder lightly with her own.

“Thank you, for bringing him his songs back. And for the apology,” Julie gives her a small smile and nods her head towards where the boys have gathered around the piano, notebook open in front of them as they look at old songs. It’s an invitation, an offer, small and inconsequential. She can say no. Could walk away.

But Carrie is tired of making the wrong choices in her life. Wants to make a few right ones instead. Rebuilding her friendship with Julie, with Flynn too eventually, returning lost work to ghost band mates. It’s a good start, she thinks.

#julie and the phantoms #carrie wilson #julie molina #bobby jatp #trevor wilson #luke patterson #reggie jatp #alex jatp #jatp #flynn jatp #rosie vs writing #*#*fics

35 notes · View notes

a-libra-writes · 4 years

Text

Game of Thrones Imagines - Dancing

in which i write waaay too much about this because ive been listening to waltz music and im absolute trash for dancing scenes

In this preference, you’ll enjoy little drabbles with: Ned Stark, Benjen Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Jamie Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn of Blackwater, Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Brienne, Margeary Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Edmure Tully, Brynden Tully, Oberyn Martell, Yara Greyjoy, Petyr Baelish, Beric Dondarrion, Tormund Giantsbane

seven hells what order should I put these guys in

NED STARK

In his youth, Ned never really bothered with the ins and outs of dancing. He didn’t see the point; training or running Winterfell was more important, besides, it was more of a Southern thing. His brothers shared his lack of enthusiasm, so he didn’t really care about it.

However, this changed at a gala at Winterfell, when he saw you for the first time. You were so lively and kind, and your beauty seemed to increase tenfold when you danced. He didn’t even notice his brother Brandon was your partner at first, and suddenly, he couldn’t keep himself from asking you for the next dance, worried Brandon might keep you all night. As he put his hand to your waist and your hand in his, he internally panicked… But that melted away as you gave him a reassuring smile.

Ned didn’t even notice you were leading him, nor did he dwell on the few stumbles he made. He just couldn’t believe he was so close to you, and enjoying something like dancing.

He tried practicing and brushing up a bit after that, but really, it was a bit of a lost cause. After you married, he still loved to take you in his arms anyway, and he was never short of praise for you when the gala was over. You teased him about watching you all night instead of visiting with his fellow lords, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that he loved watching your graceful movements.

The last dance was Ned’s favorite, as he loved it when you leaned your head on his shoulder and you two could just sway. If you were particularly tired, he’d wait until the guests had mostly cleared out and bridal carry you to your shared bedroom. He used to feel a bit embarrassed in helping you undress, but later he took great pleasure in how you'd sigh. This extended to him eventually sharing a bath with you afterward, soothing your body with the warm water and his hands.

BENJEN STARK

Benjen had never cared for dancing, especially these silly galas the Southerners liked. He never thought he was missing out, and rather enjoyed teasing Brandon and Ned for having to go to them, and later teased Robb for the same thing.

He was stopping by Winterfell and staying the night when he heard of a gala going on. Benjen wanted to speak with his brother and nephews, so he stopped by inside, surprised by the amount of people and the music. He spotted Jon and went to him, only for someone to catch his eye. He didn’t keep track of the family members of the North, as it wasn’t his place anymore, but he wished he had a name for your lovely face.

You were dancing with Robb, smiling at him, laughing when he leaned in and said something. He admired the way you moved with such elegance, despite Robb having some trouble keeping up.

“Uncle?” Jon found him first, and tried to get his attention.

Benjen quickly shut his mouth and greeted his nephew. As he hugged him, he still glanced at you. Jon had noticed and teased his uncle, mentioning your family was close to the Starks, and you were their only daughter. As Benjen had visited with his family, he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you. He was ready to leave, wanting to keep you off his mind, and he was surprised when you sought him out first.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but you’re … Benjen, correct? My cousin is with the Night’s Watch, and he mentioned you - Wait, I haven’t even introduced myself…”

He thought it was so cute how breathless you were, and you were trying to be polite to a man of the Night's Watch, even if you had no reason to. He asked for your name, and many other questions, both of you drawing into conversation without realizing it. You noticed a few songs had passed already, and you took a chance. You asked if he would be allowed to dance with you. Benjen hesitated, and politely refused you, figuring a lady shouldn’t be dancing with someone like him. He was surprised by how disheartened you look, and he was disappointed as well.

As the evening grew dark, you noticed Benjen had disappeared at some point. You were glad to leave the stuffy hall, your feet and legs were aching. Outside, the frozen air was perfect, and you took a deep breath … and you yelped as a sudden gust of wind hit you. Your dress was thin, and you shivered.

Suddenly, someone wrapped a warm fur around you. You looked up. “Benjen? I was wondering where you were.”

“You were looking for me?” His pleased smile was cute. You pulled the fur further around your shoulders and spoke honestly. “Yes. I wanted to see you."

The two of you lingered, and you could feel a sort of tension. There was still music from the hall, albeit muffled and distant. You spoke first, asking him to dance with you.

Benjen couldn’t believe you managed to take him off guard, but he didn’t make the same mistake twice. He accepted, pulling you into his arms. As you shivered again, he pulled you even closer, and you wondered if it was his heart or your’s that you could hear.

From then on, anytime Benjen passed by Winterfell, you were sure to see him. You two shared several secret meetings, which weren’t limited to dances. He especially liked it when you snuck out of the galas early and curled up with him in your guest room, where he'd soothe your aching legs while whispering how beautiful you looked.

ROBB STARK

Like most Northern lords, Robb felt the entire idea of galas and dancing was silly. Still, he knew you attended them, so he’d do his best to practice a few steps when no one was looking. During a gala, he didn’t hide that he was looking around for you, and would try his best to have you at the first dance. When he danced with other ladies, he really wasn’t that attentive and sometimes made mistakes out of nervousness, or because he was too busy watching you across the room.

Once Robb finally had you as a partner, it was obvious how pleased he was as he held you. He’d try to play it cool, but you could tell he was concentrating on following the right steps.

Just for fun, you liked to throw him off by moving a little closer and whispering something sweet. His face would go red and he’d stumble, and you two would laugh to yourselves, stuck in your own little world.

He’d eventually grow in confidence and you could tell by how firmly he held you and how he began to lead the dance more and more. If you asked him about practicing, he’d have to blush again and admit he was doing it for you, as he loved watching you twirl with more experienced partners, and hoped that someday he could make you smile like that. You’d insist that you love dancing with him the most, no matter what, and he’d likely almost step on your feet again because he was so happy.

At the end of a dance, Robb always gives you an earnest kiss on your hand and lingers a bit, still holding your hand and looking you in the eyes. It’s so obvious he wants to kiss you for real, but then he has to hand you off to a partner, frowning the whole time. He’d definitely want to find you for a last dance, and at the end of that, he’d risk it and give you a kiss on the cheek - still holding your hand. He often lingers after the music ends, still holding onto you, and you have to teasingly remind him to let you go and return to his family.

Often Robb really can’t take it and finds you after the gala, in the evening, wanting to hold your hand and steal a proper kiss from you. “I’ve been waiting to do that all night.”

“Ha! Get it all out of your system, before someone comes looking for us.”

SANSA STARK

Since she was a girl, Sansa always daydreamed about attending fabulous galas and dances in the South. Once she arrived in King’s Landing, you and her became fast friends after she met you at her first one. She looked up to you, loving your poise and grace. You began to teach her, and although she had some trouble with more complicated steps, she appreciated your patient instruction. Each gala was a whirlwind of emotion for her, and when it became too much, especially with Joffrey, she’d seek you out in the crowd. You’d take her into your arms and dance, quietly alleviating her worries as the music played.

The situation in King’s Landing became worse, but Sansa continued to attend your lessons. You noticed the toll the events was taking on her health and mind, but she insisted she was fine.

One day, she was especially clumsy in the lesson, often making mistakes and spacing out. You knew it was rather pointless you ask, but you did so quietly, whispering to her as you guided her along the steps.

Suddenly Sansa held fast to you, bringing you into a crushing hug. You heard her shudder and try to stifle herself, but several tears came out. You continued to sway, soothing her and petting her hair. As soon as you both heard someone, she pulled away, pressing her sleeves at her eyes to hide any tears. You both quickly returned to the lesson as several servants passed by.

From that point, Sansa would often exclusively seek you out at galas, pointedly dancing with just you even if propriety demanded you two part. She only would after a scathing comment from Cersei or Joffrey - and she would've danced with others for a time, but then she’d always come back to you. You’d still whisper soothing words when no one would hear as you two twirled.

Once the dances were over, you both would be exhausted, but Sansa would still linger with you. You’d hold her hand, taking her to her room, sometimes shooing away her handmaidens so you could brush her hair and keep comforting her. She wouldn’t always accept this, however, and would want to help you as well, smiling softly when you’d attempt to joke and make witty comments to lighten the mood.

JON SNOW

Jon was never expected to bother with fancy feasts or galas, and he told himself he was fine with it, especially since Robb was always dressed up and dragged off for them. He still found it a bit lonely, however, and he was curious about the music that was always playing for the galas. Sometimes he’d hang around outside, listening to the laughter and music. He was doing this on the night you saw him. Jon heard someone hurry out, and he was surprised to see a girl all dressed up and out of breath. You sat down on a bench almost fell over as you removed your shoes.

You turned around and yelped, and he startled, too. He apologized for frightening you, and was glad you just laughed it off.

“You’re … Lord Stark’s boy, right? Jon Snow?”

He was surprised you recognized him, and thankful that you were talking to him so kindly. You introduced yourself, explaining your shoe had broken and you were worn out. As you shivered, he quickly gave you his fur, and you two ended up talking for much longer than you expected.

“The galas aren't so bad, I promise. Yes, they’re tiring, and dressing up takes far too long, and the lords can be overbearing …” You trailed off, and he couldn’t help but laugh. You were so pretty in your outfit, and he wondered if Robb was one of those lords who annoyed you. You stood up and took his hands, further surprising him. “Still, they're fun! Here, I’ll show you!”

Even though Jon tried to protest, he really couldn’t argue once you were placing his hands. He knew something of dancing that he was taught, but not much, and he hoped he didn’t touch you anywhere inappropriate. You ended up swaying and dancing along, and he began to forget himself.

Once you began to shiver again, he remembered your feet were bare and offered to help you to your guest room. There were several more galas at Winterfell, and you liked skipping out to talk and visit with him. He still had plans to go to the Wall, and he considered his time with you precious, knowing it wouldn’t last long. A few times Robb or Theon teased him for having a crush, and he’d just tell them they were imagining things.

Whenever he'd hear the music of the galas, whether it be a minstrel that was playing or someone singing, he'd wonder what it'd be like if he were a true Stark and was allowed to dance with you like the other lords.

THEON GREYJOY

Naturally, Theon wasn’t allowed to participate in the few galas at Winterfell, and he didn’t think Ironborns should be doing flowery dancing, anyway. Still, his interest was piqued when he noticed you and Sansa practicing, and how the servants would gossip about how lovely you and Robb looked when you danced.

So Theon ended up sneaking into a few, especially at Robb and Jon’s urging. They were ready to get a kick out of Theon falling over himself or Catlyn dragging him out by the ear, but he surprised nearly everyone when he strode up to you with confidence, asking for a dance. You knew him, of course, and you were surprised when he kept up with you.

Not just that, he was almost a natural even if he didn’t know all the steps. He had an infectious energy, and you two ended up sharing quite a few laughs. If he messed up or you teased him about his hand being too low, he’d have a joke ready. Once you finished the dance, he made sure to kiss your hand with a wink, sometimes giving you a kiss on the cheek if no one was watching.

Theon’s absolute favorite thing to do was “steal” you from your partner, especially if it was someone he knew you disliked. He’d just whisk you off with a smirk and a quip, and you two would try to stifle your giggles at how angry the man would look.

Theon was only able to snatch you for the last dance once, and he got an earful for it later - but it was completely worth it. It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, and he stole a kiss before being dragged off by Robb and Jon, who were positive that Catlyn was going to tear Theon a new one.

Theon would always try to find you after a gala. His usual flirting would fall a bit short, as he’d be a bit intimidated by how lovely and breathless you looked, but you’d still smile and would give him a real kiss goodnight.

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

You were a noble from Westeros who had long been travelling Essos, and you soon came into the service of the Queen of Dragons. You two had a surprising friendship, and she found herself quite drawn to you. One day, she heard you humming and dancing along to something as you tidied up, and she asked you with a laugh what you were doing.

As you described the grand balls you’d attend, and all the silly nonsense your parents would make you wear, she’d become thoughtful. She told you to demonstrate some more of the dances, and you were amused by how queenly her demand was. You’d do your best, but explain that it’s better with two people - perhaps one of her handmaidens or Missandei could help.

To your surprise, Daenerys would step forward and hold you with a strong confidence, all but telling you to instruct her. You’d do so, keeping your smile down as you guided her hands and began the basic steps. Daenerys did her best to follow, although she took it quite seriously, and thus would make a few mistakes. As you’d tease her good naturedly, she’d be even more determined, bringing you even closer and telling you to focus on the lesson.

Your lessons continued for some time, each one the two of you going longer and becoming a little more breathless. Daenerys loved how you’d hum the songs and would move with such confidence, it would distract her more than your lips or the feeling of your body against her’s. Finally, she’d push you against the wall and kiss you until you were breathless… And afterwards, you’d giggle and ask her how long she’s been wanting to do such a thing. The queen certainly punished that bit of cheek.

While you don’t have lessons all that much anymore, during celebrations Daenerys will take you to herself and lead you in the dance. She’d obviously be pleased with your compliments, which you found adorable.

Sometimes in her chambers, when the windows are open and you both can hear the sea, she’d pull you into her arms and want to slow dance. You both would end up making up your own dances, and would take turns leaning on each other and sharing kisses and whispers.

JORAH MORMONT

Dancing with Jorah came about purely by accident. You were discussing Westerosi culture with Daenerys, as you were also from there and she was curious. You described attending galas, all the beautiful dresses and lights and music. Jorah had attended a few as well, even though they weren’t as popular in the North, and he shared his stories.

Daenerys looked to the both of you with a bit of mischief in her eyes. She asked if you two could show her how some of the dances are done. You quickly felt shy, as you had quite a crush on Ser Jorah, but the idea of being so close and dancing with him was a wonderful thought. You looked to him, and he also seemed a little flustered, but he gave you a smile. “A dance or two for the Khaleesi shouldn’t be a problem. It’s been some time for me, so you may have to lead, my lady.”

You gladly did so, you loved it when he called you a lady, reminding you of better times back at home. Despite his words, he took you in his arms with little hesitation and after you counted a few times, you both were easily waltzing around the room. You hummed a song you remembered, and he also remembered it, and began recalling when he was a young man and attended his first gala.

You didn’t notice, but he was discussing the story more with you than Daenerys, and she had long snuck out of the room with Missandei, the two of them grinning.

You two had ended up dancing along to several more songs, talking all the while. You hummed and sometimes sang a song, and he easily swayed you even if he didn’t know it. Jorah held you just perfectly, not too tight, and you felt so safe in his arms. It wasn’t until you turned to ask Daenerys a question that you realized you both were alone, totally out of breath and not knowing how long you’d been dancing.

You had a mix of emotions, you were homesick and lovesick. Jorah assumed your quietness was because you were tired, and he brought you water and took you to a place to rest. You were touched, and you two kept talking into the evening. You eventually began leaning on him and fell asleep, and he carefully carried you to your room and kissed your brow before he tucked you in.

You both confessed your feelings to each other shortly afterward. While there wasn’t much time for parties in the Free Cities, sometimes during quiet evenings you’d pull him into a dance and he’d love it, enjoying your closeness and how you’d hum and rest your head on his chest.

JAMIE LANNISTER

Jamie was always expected to be accomplished in most things, and socially-demanded dancing for stuffy galas was no different. Although he didn’t think much of it, he had a natural talent for it. Jamie didn’t have many chances to dance, however, as the Kingsguard was generally discouraged from participating in galas, unless it was for ceremony or some event.

You first danced together at one of these ceremonies, and Jamie was relieved. You two had known each other for a while, and he was glad not to get stuck with some lovestruck maid. He started out with a smirk, making sassy remarks about the silliness of the whole thing, and you teasing him about being rude while dancing with a lady. As it went on, Jamie started to become quiet. He began to realize how much he liked having you this close, how you smiled and reassured him, and lightly scolded him when he made a rude comment about a guest. He couldn’t keep his heart still, and told himself it was just the exercise.

He was disappointed when the dance ended, and ended up finding you for a few more. When you were taken for the last dance, he couldn’t deny how irritated he felt, and watched you and your damned partner the whole time.

After that, he was sure to attend more galas, but not enough to bring suspicion to your growing relationship. He’d sometimes play it risky, bringing you closer than was proper, whispering in your ear lovely or flirty praises if he knew his sister was away. He really only enjoyed dancing with you, and didn’t have a problem turning down anyone else, although he had to dance with a few others to avoid being seen as too rude.

After he lost his hand and returned to King’s Landing, the bright galas lost their appeal and he stopped attending, even for ceremony. He ended up finding you in a practice room one day, and you guided him to you, although he protested. Once you began humming a song you knew he liked, and guided him into it, he couldn’t help but bring you close against his chest. He leaned into you, swaying as he nuzzled into your hair, holding you so tight it almost hurt.

You knew he was overwhelmed with emotion from his captivity, so when you two got a chance alone, you’d hold him close and whisper how much you loved him, sometimes swaying and humming the songs you two used to dance to.

TYRION LANNISTER

Galas were like any other feast or party for Tyrion, he could have plenty of drink and banter, and if he got bored, he’d slip out and go to a brothel. If he knew you were in attendance, you two would sit together, trading drinks and stories.

He knew you loved to dance, and sometimes you’d step away to enjoy the music. He’d have some feelings of envy and sadness, wishing he could dance so easily with you. One day, you noticed him being particularly self-pitying, and you pulled him by the wrist.

“What’s this, my lady? Normally, I wouldn’t refuse you, but with so many people -”

You smiled and shook your head. “Oh, honestly, it’s not that. I want you to dance with me.”

Tyrion was obviously unsure, he didn’t want that sort of attention drawn to both of you. He knew his reputation, but he didn’t want to sully your’s. You insisted, but instead of dragging him to the middle of the dance floor, you pulled him out in the halls.

“Now I’m really getting mixed messages about your intentions,” He joked, trying to relieve his anxiety.

You rolled your eyes and took his hands, and gently instructed him. Outside, you could still hear the music, but you were alone, enjoying yourselves You both ended up losing track of time, and had to hurry back separately, so no one would assume anything untoward.

He was touched by your kindness, loving you even more, if that was possible. During galas, you two would hold hands and drink, and after you married you were more than able to sneak out and dance to yourselves under the moon and stars.

TYWIN LANNISTER

It was the first time you had attended a gala at Casterly Rock, and your parents wanted you on your best behavior. You had to dance the appropriate amount of time with the appropriate amount of partners, at the appropriate distance. Just thirty minutes in and you wanted to leave.

You noticed Tywin Lannister sitting at a table with his family members; he was hard to miss, with his great presence. However, you became wrapped up in your irksome partners, and you didn’t notice he was gone until he was suddenly beside you. Your scared partner wasted no time in handing you over, and before you knew it, you were dancing with the Warden of the West.

He had a confident hold on you, and perhaps he was a little too close, but you hardly thought about that. You were surprised by his poise and practiced steps; he led you effortlessly and you found yourself complimenting him. You blushed and tried not to look away as he returned the compliment with his low voice. You'd never thought he would do such a thing, and to you of all people.

At the end of it, he gave you a proper bow and kiss on your hand, but it felt different than others you received. You were still buzzing. At the end of the night, he picked you for the last dance, and you were determined not to be intimidated again. You danced wonderfully in sync with him, and you could swear he tried to change some steps to trip you up. You didn’t fall for it, and followed his lead easily. The dance was over before you knew it, and he gave you another customary kiss on your hand, but there was a peculiar look in his eyes that made your heart flutter even more.

The gossip in court exploded after that, with your handmaids telling you that he almost never danced with any lady, and everyone agreed you two looked like royalty.

You still remember that night fondly after you two married. After you wed, he was sure to get the first few dances with you at each gala, and no one was going to take Tywin Lannister’s wife from him until he was quite finished. Once he was, he’d hand you to a partner and sit down, his eyes occasionally following you across the ballroom. No one would think of making an inappropriate move on you, especially at Casterly Rock.

If he felt someone was overstepping their bounds, Tywin wouldn’t hesitate to calmly stand from his seat, make his way to you, and give them a quiet but vicious reminder of who you were married to. Then, he’d guide you to his seat, where he’d keep his hand over yours until he calmed down.

For the last dance, no matter how tired he was or who he was speaking to, he’d seek you out. While Tywin always held you close, if he was in a particular mood, he’d make sure your body was nearly touching his, and his hand would have a firm grip on your waist. The two of you would talk quietly or you'd enjoy a peaceful silence with knowing glances. Tywin wouldn’t want to show too much affection in public, but you could tell from his soft gaze and the way he held you that he very much wanted you. Once the dance was finished, he’d keep you by his side until the gala finished and you two retired to your bedchambers.

SANDOR CLEGANE

Of all the stupid things nobles do, Sandor found galas especially fucking stupid, especially with all the fuss in guarding them. Normally he was glad to take the night off and drink, but since being hired by your family, he had to attend to guard you.

He’d already had growing feelings for you, and the damn galas only made it worse. You were always dressed beautifully, always smiling at this person and laughing with that one. At least you'd give cold looks to lords who didn’t impress you, but he still hated how everyone held your attention. Anytime one of the lords was too close or touchy, he’d be sure to touch his sword and quietly appear next to you two until they’d slink off.

After a well-known incident involving a drunk lord who ended up lifted by his neck and nearly tossed, the guests figured out you were well-protected and didn’t try anything fishy. It really wasn’t enough for Sandor, he didn’t give a shit about dancing, it just drove him up a wall how other men were so close and touching you. You couldn’t stand some of them, but you had to allow it, and whatever you two felt for each other had to be kept under wraps.

In the evening, when the gala ran long and your legs and feet were absolutely killing you, Sandor would wait until you two were alone and pick you up. He’d cradle you bridal style, secretly adoring how you rested your head on his broad shoulders and kept him close, sometimes touching his face as you closed your eyes. He’d be bold enough to take you into your bedroom and set you down on the bed, ignoring the scandalized looks of your handmaidens. Eventually you began sending them away, and when Sandor would set you down, he’d be sure to strip you from your clothes (perhaps a bit too roughly), rubbing your legs and meeting your lips as you held onto his face.

At one point you were practicing in an empty room and you offered to teach him. He snorted, saying he wasn’t doing that shit, and you laughed, figuring you’d give it a try. After a gala, you still have the music in your head, so when you’re both alone you’ll wrap your arms around him and hum, trying to sway him along with you. He’ll grumble and complain but still bring his arms around you, holding you a little too tight, as if trying to erase all the people who were touching you before. Sometimes he was feeling especially jealous, seeing how flushed your cheeks were and how you breathed heavily in your dress, and he’d be too eager to rip it while ‘helping’ you undress.

BRONN

No surprise, he’d scoff at the ridiculousness of the galas and dancing. He and Tyrion would have plenty of good laughs about it as you got ready, and he’d be sure to give you several compliments on your backside before you left. After he was knighted at Blackwater, Tyrion made several jokes about him attending to find a proper wife, which he always blew off. It wasn’t until Tyrion brought up your marriage in passing, and how you’d likely find a husband at a gala since you attended so many, that he got a little irritated.

He didn’t want to go, of course, but he recalled how you always dressed up for them. Were you dressing up for someone in particular? He didn’t think you were the husband-hunting type. The whole idea just left a bad taste in his mouth, so he agreed to go to one with Tyrion, fully intending to just drink and joke the whole time.

Naturally none of the lords and ladies looked forward to having Bronn or Tyrion there, but you still sat with them, laughing and drinking along. Bronn kept fighting the urge to pull you into his lap like he did when he visited the taverns, and right when he was about to pull you to him by your waist, you were asked to dance by some Lord Who Knows from Where the Fuck. Bronn definitely was glaring when the man took you away.

As the lord danced with you, and you smiled politely when he kissed your hand at the end, Bronn hoped that was it. Nope, several lords were ready to dance with you. Evidently, you were popular, and that wasn’t surprising. Bronn wasn’t a flowery words type, but the word ‘beautiful’ kept coming to mind as you twirled and glittered under the lights. It just irked him, so he kept drinking and suggested to Tyrion that they ditch and find a brothel. He remained irritated, despite the distractions.

The next time you readied for a gala and stopped by Tyrion’s office to see if he was joining you, Bronn felt that ugly feeling again, and urged you to come to one of his favorite taverns instead.

You thought he was joking. “In my jewels and one of my favorite dresses?”

“Eh, leave the jewels. I can help ya out of that dress, if ya need it.” He grinned.

You realized he actually meant it, and you sighed, thinking about how upset your family would be, especially since you were still unmarried… But Bronn looked almost eager, and it was hard to refuse him to begin with. You rolled your eyes, told him to give you some time and returned in a much simpler outfit. He couldn’t keep his grin and laugh to himself as he pulled you out of the castle, with Tyrion smirking to himself as you two left.

At the tavern, there was plenty of music and drinks already flowing. After you two drank plenty, Bronn pulled you up, telling you he’d show you what real dancing was. You’d never actually been amongst the smallfolk like this, so you were a little overwhelmed, but you loved the way his hands touched and wandered across your body. He was risky, giving you kisses here on there, sometimes on your jaw or your neck, encouraged by your laughter. Once you two were tired and thirsty, he eagerly pulled you into his lap, calling for another round of drinks. The two of you spent quite a bit of time at the inn and the room upstairs. From then on, you began shirking attending galas, having more fun dancing with Bronn in various taverns and dance halls in King’s Landing.

STANNIS BARATHEON

Not too surprising, Stannis saw no enjoyment in galas, even when he was unmarried and expected to find a wife. The regular feasts were pain enough, and Renly and Robert always took the attention of others anyway.

While courting you, he never actually met you at a gala, preferring to see you elsewhere. When you two married, he realized that he eventually had to attend them, as you couldn’t go by yourself … and he knew how much you loved them. So even with his discomfort, he made attempts to practice with you. You guided him patiently, and he paid attention, although he often got distracted by your happy smile, and how you’d reward him with kisses. He’d tell you to let up on all the affection so he could concentrate, but …. Nope, you didn’t. If you kept showering him with praise and affection, he’d become terribly flustered and try to pull you back into the lesson.

When a gala finally came around, you could tell he was nervous, even if he seemed the same to anyone else. He danced with you through two songs, which surprised you. You forgot yourself more than once, giving him a chaste kiss or a compliment like you’d do in practice, and you both would blush and hope no one noticed.

He’d sit out after that, feeling too out of place. He’d feel nervous seeing you dance with more loud and outgoing men, evening starting to grind his teeth if they looked too cozy with you. Eventually, Davos would have to point out that you didn’t smile nearly as much for the other lords, nor did you stay close to them or laugh at their silly jokes.

For the last dance, you could tell he was happy to return to you. He held you much closer, even giving you subdued smiles as you beamed up at him and noted his improvement. At the end, he’d give you a kiss on the hand, but wouldn’t be satisfied and would end up giving you a sweet one on your lips.

RENLY BARATHEON

While Renly was good enough at dancing and he had friends at the gala, he preferred feasts and tourneys, especially since galas were full of starry-eyed girls chasing after him. You two met when you were forced to partner up, you both were trying to escape more undesirable partners and easily danced away from them. Once you’d both realize what you just did, you’d have a good laugh about it and started to get to know each other.

Since you two often visited at other events after that, there were rumors, but you knew his heart was with a certain Tyrell. He was a fun friend anyway, especially when you both wanted to escape at a gala. You’d dance and make jokes, complain about your families and snigger at certain guests. One time you both were being pursued by especially annoying partners for a last dance, and you literally spent half the song dodging through couples, avoiding them and finally finding each other, only to be totally out of breath and the song nearly over.

DAVOS SEAWORTH

You attended more than enough galas for one lady; your parents were so eager for you to marry, they dragged you to dozens. At least you enjoyed dancing, however, the instability of Westeros had other ideas. You followed your father on his campaign to support Stannis, putting a solid end to any future galas.

As you were often at Dragonstone, you befriended little Shireen, who naturally wasn’t allowed to attend galas. You began giving her little lessons, teaching her some of the songs and steps to them, which she loved. Eventually you began to befriend Davos as well, ans he thought it was adorable to watch the two of you. He especially liked the grace and ease that you moved with, it reminded him of a ship sailing on an easy breeze.

One evening, Shireen suggested that you teach Davos how to dance. He was taken off-guard and quickly said that he really wasn’t a dancer, besides, you were a proper lady who ought to dance with proper lords.

“You are also a lord, and a knight, Ser Davos.” You reminded him. "Besides, in these times, the realm has little need for fancy parties."

He still seemed uneasy and tried several other excuses, until you walked up to him, put his hand on your waist and took up his right one. Of course, he felt insecure about his missing fingers, but you didn’t even bring it up. And it was hard to focus on them, when he had your lovely eyes and your sweet smile so close.

Shireen sang the songs you taught her, and you sang along, carefully guiding him into a simple two and three step dance. He was stiff and nervous the whole time, worried about touching you inappropriately, wanting to touch you but knowing he shouldn’t. After that, several times when he stopped by to see you and Shireen, he’d be dragged into another dancing lesson. He actually did love being so close to you, and how sweet you were with the princess. It made his mind wander to what sort of family you two would have.

Davos never really saw you at a proper ball, which he considered a good and a bad thing. He’d never see you in a lovely dress enchanting the room, but he also wouldn’t have to see younger, handsomer men dancing perfectly with you.

Sometimes when you were feeling anxious, you’d wrap your arms around his warm torso and hold him close to you, humming one of the songs and swaying with him. He’d hold your waist, kissing your brow and giving you words of comfort, knowing you liked the movement and closeness.

MARGAERY TYRELL

The two of you began dancing in the practice room. Margaery was quite drawn to you based off the rumors she heard, and she wasn’t disappointed, as you two quickly dazzled the room. From then on, you often practiced together, usually trading gossip and jokes the whole time.

At the next gala, she surprised you with asking you to dance. You two twirled around the floor, enchanting anyone who watched with your combined grace, not knowing you two were cracking jokes or sharing flirtations while the music played.

You danced often together, although you both knew when it was appropriate to stop dancing together and dance with a possible suitor, it never made you happy. A few times Margaery would notice when a man was getting too close, and she’d swiftly whisk you away with a charming smile, leaving him none the wiser that you were being rescued. Often, you two would catch each other’s eyes while dancing with other partners, and she’d give you a knowing smile.

After one of the parties was winding down, you accompanied Margaery to her private chambers so you two could get out of your dresses and soothe your aching feet. She noticed you were feeling down most of the evening. “Is something the matter, love?”

“Well…” You felt foolish. “I was thinking how you and I will never get the last dance. If we ever did, people would think it was some joke.”

Before you knew it, she whisked you off the bed and onto your feet. “Then, we’ll dance right now! This will be our last one, or the one after this, or the one after that. The last dance will always be just the two of us, when we decide.”

From then on, you two had a little tradition, having your “last dance” in one of your chambers, humming to the ballroom songs in your nightgowns and usually ending it with a fit of giggles on the bed.

LORAS TYRELL

It wasn’t too surprising that Loras was just as graceful in dance as he was on horseback, and all the ladies of the realm were eager to dance with him when he attended a gala. Loras was polite, giving the proper amount of time to each lady, as he truly enjoyed galas, even if his partners could be lacking, and even if he’d never get to dance with the one he really loved.

However, Loras was surprised by you, pleasantly so. He loved that you knew the complicated steps he couldn’t try with other partners, and would give you challenges to keep up. You two would end up getting lost in the music, dancing through several songs. Several guests would stop dancing or talking just to watch, and you both usually got a hearty round of applause by the end of it.

Of course, you both would be exhausted and sweating, but he had a high respect for you and began seeing you as a friend.

BRIENNE OF TARTH

Brienne wasn’t crazy about guarding galas, as it just brought back painful memories of her own rejections and trying desperately to fit in. She’d sigh and bear it, moving all her focus to protecting you. She took the duty seriously, thus, she always watched you.

She began to admire the grace and beauty you had as you danced. She always thought you were pretty, but when you smiled and twirled, and your hair and gown moved with you, it was almost dream-like. More than once, her heart beat quickly as she watched you effortlessly pull off some move she couldn’t attempt or even name. She didn’t even pay attention to your partners, unless they were obviously pushing their boundaries - which she’d be quick to correct if you didn’t stop them first.

One day, you were in your practice room and she was once again taken with you. You noticed her staring, and asked if she’d like to help you practice.

Brienne was taken aback by the suggestion, and quickly became uncomfortable. She insisted there was no way she could be of any help. As you pressed her, she kept insisting, saying she wasn’t graceful and she’d just end up hurting you.

She sat in on several other practice sessions, and you began to get specific with her. You’d ask her to stand still or hold you a certain way so you could practice a dance. She’d get what you were doing right away, but she’d be obedient, trying to calm her beating heart. As you two became closer, and you reassured her, she’d slowly try to hold you and try a few moves, but she’d quickly lose confidence and retreat into herself.

At one gala, during the last dance, a lord was much too forward with you and even tried to follow after you once it ended. Brienne was quick to put him in his place, face-first on the ground. She escorted you back to your room, noticing how upset you were by the whole ordeal.

“Who cares about the last dance, anyway? It’s just stupid ceremony, yet men act like fools over it,” You ranted, taking off your heels and dress. Brienne agreed, trying not to be distracted by you disrobing.

“My last dance will be with whomever I please. Brienne?”

She stood at attention. “My lady?”

You held out your hands, dressed in only your nightgown. “Will you be my last dance, my knight?”

She blushed to her ears and began to refuse, but she thought of all the men who would try to grab you, coerce you into a dance or just act tasteless. Setting her sword aside, she took your hands carefully. You hummed a song and led her into it, and she swore you could hear her heart beneath her armor. In spite of all her worries and insecurities, she loved having you so close, and she couldn’t stop herself from giving you a proper knightly kiss on your hand once your impromptu dance finished.

RAMSAY BOLTON

You knew of Ramsay’s reputation when you married him. You weren’t a fool, you were aware he certainly had feelings for you, and he was willing to keep his more … unsavory aspects away from you, for the most part. He was especially good at playing the dutiful lord husband where guests were concerned, although Roose still kept an eye on him during galas.

You adored dancing and you weren’t going to stop just because he didn’t partake. But to your surprise, one day he took you in his arms, and impressed you with how he followed the music and steps. He was rather clumsy, and perhaps a little too fast, but it was obvious he had been practicing.

You complimented Ramsay, and he was clearly pleased, holding you closer and giving you that charming smile he liked to use. You could always see behind it, but this time it seemed genuine. Sometimes he’d slip up and give you a kiss, often whispering something less than appropriate to you, but before you knew it several songs played and you had enjoyed yourself.

He was still holding onto you when a man came up, asking for your hand. Ramsay looked confused, then clearly irritated, and you had to remind him. “My lord, it’s customary to change partners every other song.”

“Is that so?” His expression changed again, to a darker one you easily recognized. He handed you over to the man, obviously not enjoying it, and you hoped he stayed out of trouble.

As you danced with other partners, you could see he had a few dances with other girls, but then he returned to the table. You could tell there was strong emotion brewing behind his eyes, you just couldn’t be sure what he’d do.

One of the lords dancing with you was quite drunk, and ended up stumbling. You tried to catch him, but he grabbed ahold of you, specifically on your backside. Before you could push him off, Ramsay was already there, taking the man by the collar. The room went totally quiet as he smiled. “I’d recommend you find a different place for those hands, my lord, or they’ll end up separated from your wrists.”

You pulled Ramsay away and Roose urged the musicians to continue. Before you could even speak to Ramsay, he had you in his arms again, but this time with far more possessiveness. He gripped your waist and brought the two of you completely together, and kissing your neck as you two swayed to the song. He began to bite you and leave marks, his tone sweet but his words told you that you belonged to him, and if you or any lords forgot, he’d be more than happy to remind them.

ROOSE BOLTON

It was common knowledge among the Northern lords that Roose didn’t dance at galas. He wasn’t the only Northern lord who did this, of course, but he already had a reputation for being cold. He’d simply sit at the table, observing the guests and occasionally speaking when it was polite.

It wasn’t until Roose was courting you that he finally stood, asking you for the first dance. You were just as surprised as anyone else, but you accepted, and you couldn’t help but notice the confidence and ease that he held you with. His movements weren’t flourishing or energetic, but held your attention with his steely eyes. Occasionally, he’d murmur in your ear a lovely compliment, and it would almost break your concentration.

You noticed as the dances would go on, he’d bring you closer, and you didn’t mind at all. Afterward, he may have accepted a dance here or there from someone else, but he really didn’t get asked, and he seemed quite fine with that. He’d sit at the table at his usual spot, his eyes following you, sometimes catching your gaze and giving an expression that you couldn’t place.

He was able to catch you for the last dance once or twice, and his movements were so slow and steady, it was almost hypnotizing. You found yourself swaying into him, sometimes leaning, and you had to remind yourself to keep an appropriate distance - but then he’d gently pull you back in. As your cheeks flushed, he asked why you suddenly became so shy, and you managed some excuse. At the end of it, he took your hand and gave you a perfectly polite kiss that still gave you goosebumps because of the way he lingered and kept his eyes on you.

Once you married, he’d only dance with you. During a gala, he’d keep an eye on which men were dancing with you - if he felt one was keeping too close, or one was dancing with you too often, he’d come from seemingly nowhere and more or less threaten them away, always in his calm tone. Then he’d take you in his arms, swaying you in his gentle and slow way. As you melted into it, he’d give you a kiss on your brow or cheek. He’d whisper to you sometimes, complimenting your loveliness or reminding you that you two still had the business of making an heir.

At the last dance, he’d only seem to want you more, especially if he was feeling jealous through the night. His long fingers would softly rub the small of your back, often slipping lower if he could get away with it, and he’d give several kisses to your lips and neck. By the end of it, you’re usually a mess, and you’d want the gala to hurry up and be over so you two could get to your shared bedroom.

EDMURE TULLY

As much as his father and sisters attempted to instruct him, Edmure was always clumsy with his feet. Lysa and Catlyn often teased him, pulling him into the practice room and insisting he dance with them. He attended several galas through the years, always quite shy and sort of bumbling when he was dragged to dance with someone.

When your mother not so subtly suggested that you two dance, the panic on his face was obvious. You were probably the most beautiful girl he’d met, and now he’d be making a fool of himself in front of you. You took his hand, giving him a gentle smile, whispering that it would be okay.

You took the lead and he was surprised by how kind you were. You would quietly instruct him and carefully guide him, and he became confident, enjoying several dances with you. He was so disappointed to hand you over to someone else, he almost forgot to kiss your hand.

After you two married, Edmure actually put a lot more work into his practice, since you loved dancing so much and he wanted to spend time with you. He admired your confidence in all things, but especially when all eyes were on you as you went from partner to partner. He’d try to participate as much as he could, but he still was quite clumsy and didn’t want to slow you down, although you insisted he was doing quite well.

When the last dance came, he almost couldn’t wait to be by your side. Your cheeks would be flushed from the evening, and he’d lovingly brush some of your stray hair behind your ear before taking your hand and waist in the last dance. He probably couldn’t resist giving you a kiss on your cheek or forehead, being a little embarrassed by his own behavior. Once it finished, he’d again lose himself and give you a lovely kiss before remembering propriety and placing a kiss on your hand.

Once the evening is over, he’s incredibly attentive to you, massaging your legs and getting you water or whatever you needed. When you tease him about it, he blushes quite a bit, but says he can’t help but look after and spoil his lovely wife.

BRYNDEN TULLY

When you first asked him to dance, he laughed out loud, assuming you were joking. When you insisted, he certainly was surprised, but he set his ale down and gladly stood to join you.

The Blackfish knew he wasn’t graceful in any sense of the word, but he held you firmly, and he led with confidence. If he ever missed any steps, he recovered so smoothly it was hard to tell. He didn't give a damn about any gossip between the two of you, and respected that you felt the same.

Often you’d push yourself closer to him, and he’d grin, only holding you tighter, making your heart race. He’d have plenty of witty comments, loving to see you laugh as your cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and maybe you two could sneak in a few flirtatious whispers. He loved how small you were in his arms, and sometimes he'd make a snide comment about hoping his brother and the Riverlands court were thoroughly scandalized by the two of you.

Brynden would really only have a few dances with you before insisting you ought to partner with some younger men, and better suitors. Even if you’d pout, he’d sit down and go back to drinking and joking with his friends. However, he’d unmistakably look up and watch you, loving to see you twirl and move, and sometimes laughing to himself whenever his nephew nearly stepped on your feet. If he was feeling particularly bold and had plenty of drink, he’d swoop you up for the last dance, insisting to your partner that you were in good hands - and really, it was hard to argue with such a man, especially when he was already whisking you away.

At the end of the evening, he always gave you a “proper” kiss on the hand, which you know he wasn’t taking seriously at all, as he'd often give you a wink or would scoff at anyone staring. You’d kiss him on the cheek in return.

Once the guests were turning to their rooms, Brynden would find you, pulling you into an empty hall to give you a proper kiss, grumbling about damned propriety. You'd laugh softly as you guided him to your room, though he'd insist on carrying you, delighting in how you'd hold onto him.

OBERYN MARTELL

Oberyn vastly preferred the galas in Dorne, which had both livelier music and dance. As much as he enjoyed causing a little ruckus or scandal here and there at typical galas, for the most part, they uninterested him.

He ended up attending one, and he was quite ready to leave and find himself amongst far more interesting company. Then, he spotted you just in time, and he wondered where such a beautiful and graceful gem had been hiding all along. Surely he had to have heard of you, and when he realized he hadn't, he would make sure you knew of him.

He more or less whisked you from his partner and pulled you into a dance full of energy, and he was delighted as you met his unpredictable steps. He'd flirt shamelessly, asking all about you, and if you'd be interested in meeting him in a … less formal setting. There would be endless gossip on you and the Dornish prince, but you didn't care, and danced the rest of the night with Oberyn. It was obvious he loved dancing as much as you did, and he made for a wonderful partner.

You attended a gala at Dorne for his brother's birthday, and Oberyn couldn't believe his luck you that were there. He pulled you into his arms at once, bringing you close and instructing you in the more sensual Dornish dances that most of Westeros was too scandalized by. If you would have him, he'd want you to be his paramour by the end of the night.

Oberyn liked to watch you at galas, and how you adapted so well to other partners and enjoyed every song, not taking a moment to rest. It was painfully obvious how taken he was with you by the way he’d smile in your direction, and when you two danced, you seemed lost in your own world. In the evenings, he’d do his utmost to spoil you and soothe your sore legs, praising your grace and movement the entire time.

YARA GREYJOY

As hard and bitter as the Iron Islands were, they liked loud music and good drink as well as any place in the Seven Kingdoms. Sometimes a tavern would just be full of both, and a great party would carry on into the night. You loved partaking in these, losing yourself in the music and singing along with the old sea shanties, even if you had plenty of hands to slap away. You didn’t let a bunch of foolish, drunk men ruin your fun.

Yara had seen you plenty of times before, and of course you knew her. She’d sit back with a drink and watch you sway your hips to the beat, and you’d give her a smirk or a wink in return. You were patient, she was not - eventually, she’d finish off her drink, stand up, shove off whatever man was hovering around you and bring you close to her.

You loved teasing the Greyjoy captain, often saying things like “My, haven’t we met before?”. Sometimes she played into it with you, other times she just hovered close to your ear and responded, “You know exactly who I am.”

You could tell Yara wanted to see you at times other than this, by the way she’d talk of you two ‘touring’ her ship’s quarters or where she might find you again, but you liked to keep her on her toes.

PETYR BAELISH

When Petyr asked you to dance with his disarming smile, you didn’t realize what you were in for. He was an absolute natural, holding you and leading you with expertise. He moved quickly, forcing you to keep up, but you loved the challenge. Fast songs that most people would sit out for were no problem for him, and he even had several sweet compliments for you, or playfully traded a few rumors he’d heard about you and some lord, secretly hoping you’d dispel them.

As you complimented him on his dancing, stating he was a natural, he’d brush it off with false modesty and insist he just practiced… but you knew from that prideful smirk that he was glad to impress you. He especially loved seeing you flushed and breathing heavily after several dances with him, imagining you with the same face in a much different setting.

If you were stuck with a particularly boring or sleazy partner, he’d time it perfectly, swooping in to rescue you right when you were at your wit’s end. With his usual charisma, he’d tell them you were needed, perhaps giving a swift insult to them in the same breath. Sometimes he’d hint that you were already involved with someone else, and would be delighted if you wouldn’t correct him.

The other side of Petyr would come out if you were having fun with other men, laughing along with their jokes or enjoying their dancing. It wasn’t that they were men specifically, but they were lords, rich lords with far more money and lands than he had. At that moment, he’d wait again, taking you in his arms once you were free. His usual quick step and cadence would seem slower, more deliberate, as he’d bring you closer to him. He’d be smiling, but he’d whisper all the things he could give you, how much better he was than them, and how they’d all hurt you anyway.

BERIC DONDARRION

Sometimes around the campfire with the Brotherhood, they burst into song and drunkenly dance along. You often felt a little out of place with them, even if you believed in them, as you were a highborn lady. They began singing a song you were familiar with, and since you had a few drinks yourself, you pulled Beric up with you, asking for a dance. He surprised you with properly holding your waist and hand, and you remembered he was a lord before this.

The men began to whistle and holler as you two attempted a waltz, but eventually it came back to you and you guided him. He laughed, as he had mostly forgotten, and cooed about how cute and lovely you looked. Eventually you slipped a bit and he caught you, picked you up and sat you back down with him, giving you plenty of kisses and holding him to you. You teased him, saying you wanted to keep dancing, and he promised he’d join you anytime you wanted one.

He knows you left behind a lot to join the Brotherhood, and as much as you say you love him, he still sometimes worries and just wants you to be happy. So he’s sees no problem in indulging in your dancing and singing, and often gets overwhelmed with how precious you are during those times.

Since he learned how much you enjoyed it, sometimes he’d surprise you, scooping you up and pulling you into a dance. Beric adored hearing you laugh with happiness, and he thought you looked especially pretty when two danced around the fire. Sometimes you’d jokingly teach his men how to dance ‘proper’, and even though they were playing around, Beric would get a little forlorn and eventually pull you back to him.

TORMUND GIANTSBANE

When you tried explaining to Tormund what galas and dancing in the South was like, he’d be quite confused, not understanding the point of it, but he just loved to hear you talk and describe it. Eventually he’d ask for a demonstration, and since you two were alone, you’d sigh and give it a try. “Well, it would be a bit easier to show you if I had another person-”

Instantly he’d stand up, and you’d laugh at his enthusiasm. You’d take his hands and guide him, rolling your eyes at his whistling when he grasps your waist and instantly brings you close to him. You try to attempt a few steps, but he’s having so much fun holding onto you and peppering you with kisses that you just laugh and let him.

He’d try to show you some wildling dances he’s picked up, although they’re few and far between, and mostly ceremonial. Again, he’d have so much fun watching you that he’d get distracted and just want to hold you.

At some point, when you’d all be gathered around a fire, someone brought up galas. You jokingly danced with Jon, who could somewhat remember the steps, and Tormund suddenly felt a little jealous. He got between the two of you, again holding to you and bringing you to his lap. He’d want to try it again, although he’d be quite drunk and would just end up holding you to him and swaying. You’d give him several kisses, all while whispering what sort of dresses you’d wear for him and how you two would dance. More than once you two would’ve been told to get a room.

501 notes · View notes

lenalikesboots · 4 years

Text

Bootleg Review n°1

So I watched this bootleg video yesterday and I must say...I’m impressed,

From what I know, this is the oldest video out there of the West End production of Love Never Dies. It’s completely pre-changes - it uses the soundtrack from the original album.

The leads are played by Ramin Karimloo (as Erik), Sierra Boggess (as Christine), Joseph Millson (as Raoul), Summer Strallen (as Meg), Liz Robertson (As Mme. Giry), Richard Linnell (as Gustav)

What really bothered me at first is that it’s missing about 25 minutes from Act 1. Everything in between Till I Hear You Sing and Mother Please I’m Scared is missing. The bootleg is otherwise complete. There is some washout in bright lights and the camera strays at times from the action, and there’s a bar that blocks some of the actors, but otherwise, this is a very a decent bootleg.

I liked seeing the scenes that they cut off in the Australian production. I thought it was interesting.

The Coney Island Walz is instrumental only, and it serves as kind of an Overture thing, in which, just like in Phantom, they take you back in time and set the whole setting of the show.

It goes all the way back to opening night of Phantasma.

In the beginning, there are people chattering about the new amusement park, wanting to go in.

After that, we get to see the whole only-for-him; only-for-you thing, which I thought was cool.

Also- Although I do think that it’s possible Meg has developed the hots for Erik,this Meg seems to just want a promotion. She’s in love with her career, not with her boss. I genuinely like that!

In Summer’s portrayal, Meg seems to be giving 110%, and wants nothing more than to be noticed and have her work appreciated. Of course it’s a blow for her when her mother told her that her boss didn’t care enough to show up. It’d be a blow for anyone, really, because it means your work is alright, but still not outstanding. What’s next, he doesn’t even know her name? Calls her Meghan, instead of Meg?

Anyways- it’s safe to say, I like Summer’s portrayal of Meg a lot!

Next we move on to Till I Hear You Sing! I absolutely loved the way Ramin sang it for this performance!

It was absolutely breathtaking!

I’ve had chills so many times listening to him sing it, like damn!

Unfortunately, the recording stops right after that and picks back up at Mother Please I’m Scared, where it’s really mostly audio and you can’t really see a thing.

I must say, I liked this Dear Old Friend! I liked how this time, Meg didn’t sound judgemental of the fact that Christine stopped singing to become a full-time wife and mother.

And I liked how instead of sounding bitter, Meg sounds rather confused when Christine said she was going to sing.

Moving on- in the middle of Dear Old Friend, Gustav runs off.

Obviously, he goes to see Erik.

And here we come to the first thing I didn[’t like about the show: Ramin’s Erik is really cold and mean towards Gustav in this performance particularly. I know that it’s only because he believes him to be Raoul’s son but come on- even if Raoul were Gustav’s father, it’s not the child’s fault! You can’t choose your own parents goddamn it!

I liked Beauty Underneath...kind of...idk,. I generally don’t like the vibe this song gives me.

I liked the whole “wow! You and I think the same!” idea, but the way they carried it out was bordering on genuinely creepy.

Next up! Erik takes his mask off and...fucks everything up. Kid runs away.

I liked Christine’s reaction to all of this. I liked how she asks Madame Giry to take him away and how she apologises to Erik for her child’s reaction.

And here we come to another of the things I didn’t like about Ramin’s portrayal of the character...Repeat after me: You do NOT strangle the woman you thought could possibly have bore your child. You. Do. NOT.

And you do not tighten your grip when she accuses you of abandoning her- especially if you DID abandon her! Dammit Ramin! Why so angry?

Good thing that he releases her- HOWEVER...

Why so angry Ramin??? Damn!!!

Then she tries to kiss him (which I must admit- was out of nowhere) and he pulls away, still looking super angry.

I get it-he feels awful that not even his own son can accept him the way he is. I get it.

BUT...why take it all out on Christine?

Poor girl already had to go through enough because of him.

Moving on: there are a few other things I didn’t like...but this time, I won’t put the blame just on Ramin.

Number one: when he uncovers his face, Christine turns away. Isn’t that kind of contradicting the whole idea behind “This haunted face holds no horror for me now”?

I understand that his face may not be the prettiest sight, and I understand that she was kinda shocked-after all she hasn’t seen it in 10,almost 11 years. Buuuut she didn’t have to full on turn away.. I thought that directing/acting choice was a little over the top.

And number two: after Christine leaves, Erik is left all alone to think about what just happens. He seems to be a really proud dad at first...but then there is one line that really threw me off, considering what happens in the next act. “If it’s true, I’ve no reason to live”

Uhm...dude?? If you’re planning to kill yourself, why the hell would you make a bet, which would be forcing your baby-mama and your kid to stay in America if you’d win it (and you already know you will) ?

And if he suddenly had a change of heart before that, why didn’t we get to see any of that happen? What motivated him? What made him change his mind?

Did Christine maybe ask him to make that bet? It wouldn’t be a surprise if she did....

And I am not saying this to hate on Raoul! I absolutely love Raoul and pity him greatly in Love Never Dies. He’s not an abusive monster. He’s sick! Not only is he suffering from an addiction, but he also seems to be suffering from depression.

He blames himself for all of Christine’s suffering- although, he had nothing to do with it. It all goes back to Erik leaving her, creating a vicious cycle. Christine then marries Raoul just so she wouldn’t be shunned for having a child out of wedlock. She’s obviously unhappy in her marriage, which ends up making Raoul unhappy, so he ends up drinking his sorrows away. In the end, he blames himself for the fact that Christine is unhappy.

This is what I got from Why Does She Love Me?

Quite obviously, she doesn’t.

He thinks she does, because she says so, but she is obviously unhappy in her marriage because she doesn’t. However, Raoul takes her sadness to mean that he is the one who is not good enough. He is the one making her unhappy. He is the one unworthy of love.

It breaks my heart that after everything he’s done for her, he ended up feeling so damn bad about himself. None of this is his fault.

Then, in walks our second unappreciated character: Meg. There are a lot of parallels in between these two. I feel like they’re both going through the same pain, although in very different ways.

When I watched LND for the first time, I thought this would be the start of a brand new love story, one that would steal the show, and inevitably, our hearts.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

When Meg leaves, Raoul starts talking shit about Erik, only for him to end up showing up behind the bar. Talk of the devil, they say...

Over all, I think this scene is a really funny one- probably a fun one to rehearse and perform as well.

But the whole idea behind it...Guys, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but...Christine is a human being..She’s not property...Let her make her own damn choices for once, she never ever got to do that in her life.

I hate how Erik starts objectifying Christine in Love Never Dies. He didn’t do it in the original, why start now?

Moving on to the next day:

Bathing Beauty is so damn catchy! Like damn!!

I love how Meg arrives in a hot air balloon.

I liked this randition of Summer’s Bathing Beauty. I couldn’t see much of it and I couldn’t see the bathing suits either, but the whole scene was really nice.

I felt so bad for Meg in the next scene though!

Madame Giry was waaay too harsh with her.

Next scene is Christine’s dressing room scene.

I love how conflicted and anguished Sierra portrays her to be. And I love the contrast between the way she acts around Raoul and the way she acts around Erik. Around Raoul, she’s really sweet, like a good wife should be and she is also quite affectionate.

But around Erik...

I think this picture speaks for itself...

By the way: The way she doesn’t question why Raoul asked her not to sing, and the way she gets all conflicted later, makes me think that she knows about the bet, but is starting to have second thoughts about it. Which is completely understandable. As a wife, her first priority is her marriage, which they could, possibly work out.

And as a mother, she has to put her son and what would be best for him first too. She can’t just force him to accept a new guy as his father- even if he is indeed his biological father. So all that anguish she’s feeling? Completely understandable.

You can see from her body language, even when she’s singing, that she is having second thoughts. That this is really hard for her and that she doesn’t know what to do. There is so much pressure on her, the poor girl is close to breaking down on stage, in front of thousands of people.

But then Raoul leaves...And everything in her body language changes. She becomes more confident, more content with her decision. For once, she put herself first. She realizes that she will finally get to be happy.

She, Erik and their child...

I love how happy and hopeful she looks in the next scene as well!

It’s sad that they don’t kiss in this scene, but oh well...We move...

Another thing that made me believe that Christine knew about the bet was how unbothered she seemed by the fact that Raoul left. She wasn’t shocked. She knew this was going to happen. She didn’t want it to happen like that, but it did.

And then when she realizes that Gustav is missing, she nearly gets a heart attack,

I absolutely LOVE Erik’s reaction to the whole thing! I love how worried and angry he got! See, this is one of those times I do appreciate his anger.

Moving on to the next scene:

One thing I didn’t like about it was how close Erik got to Meg when he told her “We can’t all be like Christine”.

That line is such a bad thing to say when trying to comfort someone who’s having a mental breakdown...

Meg has been working for him for ten years. She has helped him so damn much, and she doesn’t even get a thank you, or a decent. No, she only ever gets all these dumb vaudeville numbers, making her a showgirl, not a respected performer.

While Christine, who has only been in town for two days, and hasn’t been performing for a couple of years, immediately gets the aria, the nice dress and the beautiful jewelry.

And then, he has to point out how perfect she is, in front of Meg, who then, when she just wants to talk back to him, ends up accidentally pulling the trigger. And you can tell this was clearly an accident in this performance. She even runs off to get help, only to later return, probably with a doctor on the way, when Christine is already gone (maybe. nobody checked her pulse or her breathing, and the bullet didn’t hit an important artery. She might still be alive)

I loved Erik and Christine’s last kiss. It was so sweet, so passionate. I love how he kept kissing her even after she let go.

However...I didn’t like the way Ramin portrayed his reaction to her death. I understand that the feeling he was going for was numbness, but it literally ended up looking like he didn’t even care that much. For someone who’s never seen Phantom before (maybe just read the book) , who ends up watching this recording, this is the vibe you would get from it.

I love the fact that Meg came back and that she is holding Christine’s body. You can tell just how sorry she is.

I loved the whole unmasking scene. I loved how Erik slowly started opening up to Gustav, when he was finally ready to accept him. And I loved the hug in the end.

And I must say: Erik is getting better at hugging. That’s good!

All in all: I really liked this recording of the show.

If I were to grade it, I’d give it a 7,5/10.

Before I end this post, can we please appreciate just how gorgeous that dress is? Like damn!!!

Sierra looks absolutely stunning in it as well!

(When does she not look stunning though?)

#the phantom of the opera #poto #bootleg #musical theatre bootleg #musical threatre slime tutorial #slime tutorial #bootleg review #eristine #lnd #love never daaes #love never dies

10 notes · View notes

kmelanin · 4 years

Text

jjk-mate

noedits

hi hi, feedback is needed, I hope you like.

When every wolf turns 18, their mating scent activates. The only person that can smell one mating scent, is obviously their mate. Every smell is different. Some reported smelling fresh berries, or pine trees, even chocolate and vanilla. It's very addicting. As soon as you smell it, your inner wolf wants to be close and embrace the other wolf.

Some people don't like the idea of the Moon connecting two or maybe more together, but what they don't understand is that the moon doesn't make mistakes. Whether you realize as soon as you meet each other, or you realize years later, the two connected are meant for the other.

Another reason why some people hate the idea of being mated, is because sometimes a wolf can be stubborn and think they already found their ‘forever’ with someone else and they reject their soulmate. Rejection can be fatal, it just depends on the situation. There is a proper way to break the connection, but there is so much pain involved, it's never worth it. Rejection is pain regardless. But there's almost never a case where either one of them don't want each other. So one's love for the other can ease the pain a bit.

Unfortunately, with the way today is, rejection happens a lot. Or almost. Here's a couple stories…

Jungkook-

Having a human as a mate isn't rare nowadays. By now, humans and wolves mixed, just a bit. Sometimes the wolf gene cancels out the human, or vise versa.

In your case, your human. You can just smell and hear better than the average.

Unfortunately you can't smell your mate, because the human in you canceled out your scent activation sensors in your body. The doctor who specializes in wolves, told you that just because you can't smell your mate, you still were able to give off a scent, meaning you still had a mate out there. Which made you so fucking happy.

Now you were 22 and still mateless. You recently moved deeper into the city. Into a little studio apartment. Your parents were driving you insane and you needed to not only leave the house but leave the neighborhood. You also just needed a change, you knew staying in your old neighborhood, then you will never get a chance to meet your mate.

You were so wrong. Only because one side of you knew that you couldn't wait forever, for something you can't control. You would never live the life you wanted. So yes you have a boyfriend, Hanjoon. He is a beta wolf, from what pack? Who knows.

When you met him, his mate died. He was so emotionally and physically sick. You came

in and saved him. So he says. Truly you just feel stuck. He won't let you leave, claiming that you would break his heart all over again. You knew how abusive and toxic this is, but you can't do anything, you were human.

One day, you and Hanjoon went on a walk to explore your new neighborhood. He wanted to make sure that we were trespassing onto a pack's land. Make sure that everything is neutral. It was a beautiful evening. The sun was setting, giving your surroundings a gold effect. The trees everywhere shading bits in.

You knew it was too good to be true.

You were simply expressing the fact that you wanted to meet new people, aka friends. But he instantly took it as you trying to break up with him. He flipped his fucking switch and his eyes were glowing. His wolf was out.

“You can't leave me, I won't fucking let you.” His voice was riddled in disgust. He hates the fact that he is now forever mateless. His wolf is desperate to claim a female, your scent was almost the same as his mate. But it was never the same, so his wolf is on edge constantly. But you didn't know that. “I will mark you YN.” The calmness in his voice is what worries you. Because it's all in his eyes, he isn't lying.

“You wouldn't…” You mumble, you now terrified. You can't just go around marking whomever. The Moon won't make it that easy. As soon as you do, instant pain. You would want nothing but death.

“But I would, just to prove to you. You are mine.” His hand comes down and grabs you by your cheeks. He starts to squeeze down a bit, making you whimper.

No ones around to help. Of course, or else he wouldn't be doing this. He quickly pushes you away by your face. He pulled out his wallet and threw his debit card onto the sidewalk.

“Go get some groceries.” He gives you a look of hatred and walks back to your shared apartment.

You sighed and grabbed the card. And walked towards the closest grocery store. It was only a ten minute walk. You shook your head at the fact that it's going to be waaay dark by the time you start walking back.

You can't believe you are letting this guy just control you like this. You hoped for better for yourself, you weren't sure how you didn't see the signs before. You hated yourself for getting trapped in this...in his mess.

You make your way inside of the store, and you head towards the carts. You know you needed lots of meat and veggies, so that's what you started with first.

You grabbed some cucumbers and peppers. And some others that he liked. It didn't really matter what you liked, he didn't like any of it. Either he truly didn't like it, or he didn't just because you did. It didn't matter though, you barely eat anyways. If you did, it was when he wasn't around.

A group of five walks around the corner at the other end of the long frigid aisle. You sighed at the obvious, they were wolves. You could tell just by how rowdy they were. Then again, anyone can smell wet dog from a mile away.

You finish your veggie selection with some carrots and you head to the meats. You hoped they had whole chickens.

You prefered fish, strangely enough.

Suddenly your ears started to slightly ring. You look down the aisle at the men who had come around and they were looking back. When you looked four of them quickly looked away, acting as if they weren't just staring you down. Your eyes trail back to the fifth guy. His eyes stuck on you.

You started to feel extremely awkward. You turn around and quickly walk away. Your mind was blank other than the thought of the stranger staring you down.

You couldn't see his face all too clearly since he was more than ten feet away. But he was still attractive. The way he stood, the way he dressed. He had a grey jumpsuit on.

You don't understand how he wore it so well. His darker hair looked so soft…

You were starting to get irritated with yourself for even wondering what would've happened if you kept staring back.

Hanjoon pops into your head, and you jump back to reality. You quickly look down at your watch and sigh in relief when you realize only ten minutes pass by. You have at least another twenty before he comes after you, wondering what's taking so long.

Hopefully he does when you are walking back with the bag, so you won't have to carry all of it back by yourself.

You pull your phone out, asking him what type of drinks that he wants, since it's different every time.

“Yo that was weird as shit.” Yugy says, shaking his head, grabbing a carton of ice cream. The others agree, Jungkook thought differently.

“Humans are weird as shit.” Another one of his friends says. Jungkook couldn't even hear them at this point. His nose smells you walking away. His heart tightens at the thought of you leaving the store, leaving him.

“I'll be right back,” He says, not waiting for them to say anything. You smell so nice, like a soft sweet lemon on a warm sunny day. Your scent was fading a tad, meaning you are getting farther away. He picks up his feet a bit more, and looks down multiple aisles. He starts to panic a bit until he spots you typing something on your phone.

He starts to walk toward you, until he freezes and runs back around the corner. What in the fuck is he suppose to say? You smell like a human, and your sweet smell is your inner wolf. So you must be a mix of the both. Do you know of mates?

It just hits Jungkook that this is his mate just a couple feet away. He just has to go for it. You were meant for him, were you not? You would love him no matter how bad he embarrsess himself.

“Excuse me?” A deep welcoming voice says behind you. You put your phone back in your pocket and look up. Your eyes widen at the man from before walking up to you?

“Yes? Did I drop something?” You ask patting your pockets, checking if the debit card Hanjoon gave you dropped.

“No, no, it's just uh…” He pauses, nothing coming to his head. He looked down and shook his head. His fluffy hair bouncing everywhere. His hand brushes his hair back. He sighs.

Why did you feel so nervous near him? You didn't feel like you were in danger. If anything he felt like pure warmth.

“You smell so good, I just wanted to know what you were wearing?” He asks, his face clearly showing that, that isn't what he wanted to say. You giggle a bit, finding his blush to be so adorable.

Jungkook raises a hand up to his chest, not sure why his heart tugged a bit at the cute little giggle you just let out. He felt out of breath, he couldn't explain to anyone how beautiful you are. He just wanted to stare at you and memorize every freckle and line on your face. He wants to see your face when you laugh your hardest, and when you just simply smile, and when you cry and even when you are yelling at him. He wants to see your face when you moan, groan and call his name out. He wants to see your face when you push your first and second and maybe third child out. He wants to see your face when you smile at your child. He wants to see your face when he first wakes up and when he finally goes to bed.

“I don't have anything on. If anything I stink since I was just unpacking a bit earlier.” You let out, then realizing how nasty that sounded.

He gives you a smile, some bunny teeth popping out a bit. You already felt so comfortable around him. Cause you would never!

“More like lemons. Not the super sour ones though, like a soft mellow lemon. Fresh and sweet.” His voice came out a lot lower than either of you expected. His eyes got lower and his thoughts went into the gutter very quickly.

Then it clicks.

You couldn't possibly smell like lemons, and the way he is acting.

“Are you telling me that you are my mate?” You whisper. This isn't the time! You haven't escaped yet. If anything Hanjoon would kill him, not wanting you to actually be happy, only because he wasn't.

He raises his hands up a bit, wanting you to take it.

“Well I heard that you truly know when you first touch.” His voice was soft and inviting. Your whole body wanted to say fuck a hug and run into his arms. But you know what's waiting for you at home. A beating if you don't hurry the fuck up.

“What? What's wrong?” His voice breaks a bit, not understanding what is happening.

You didn't even realize you were crying until you wanted to talk. You quickly wipe them away.

“I’m sorry. I-i have a boyfriend.” You whisper, forgetting about the cart and you leave. Wanting to get away from him.

Your body physically felt ill, and you weren't sure why it happened so fast.

You know that that man was your mate, that's why.

“Wait!” You heard a painful cry from behind you.

All of Jungkook's friends ran up to him, wondering why he was bent over in pain on the floor.

“Wait?” Yugy says confused.

“Help me up.” Jungkook asks, trying his hardest to get himself up. His friends do so. “I will not be rejected.” His voice sounded determined. He ran after you.

By the time he reaches the sliding door, you are gone. But what you didn't know is that Jungkook is a beta. He is the next rank below Alpha. He is the fighter. In his pack, his nose was almost as good as his leaders. He takes a quick breath, and your sweet smell hits him. He heads towards the park that was down and across the street. He sees you sitting on the bench near some of the apartment buildings on the other side.

He can tell that you are in pain, and that hurts him even more. He starts to walk over to you.

You could feel his eyes on you. But that couldn't stop your tears streaming down your face. You remember some of the things Doctors have told you. You know that your body is going through rejection. You can't go home because then Hanjoon would know.

Why can't you just get a break.

“Please don't come any closer.” You groan. You could hear his footsteps coming towards you.His feet stop, making you sigh a bit.

“I can smell another wolf on you. He will understand…” His voice sounded so sad. Not helping anything. Fuck.

It felt like you were dying... no you wanted to die. You didn't know what to do.

“No. You don't understand.” Your voice sounded a lot meaner than you intended.

“I can't just leave you. You aren't a full wolf. You don't understand-”

“His mate died. She killed herself a couple of days after they found each other. I found out from my folks that she didn't want him. In fact, I despised him. She knows you can't go through rejection without it being fatal. So she took it into her own hands. Now he thinks he can just go around and claim anyone. I'm human after all, if I knew I really had a mate out there, I wouldn't have dated anyone. If I try to leave, the first thing he would do is claim me. He scares me s-…” Your voice trailed out, realizing you were rambling.

You look up, and gasp. You didn't realize how close he got to you. Your heart started beating so fast. You didn't notice the fact that your body was already feeling better, feeling warm all the way through.

In a blink of an eye, his hands pulled you up from the bench. He cages you in with one arm, and his other hand is on your cheek.

If his arm wasn't around you, then your knees would've definitely failed you. The way his lips felt against yours really hit differently. They mold so perfectly against yours, like they were made for you. The way he growls and pulls you closer, and kisses you faster doesn't help anything.

Every nerve in your body was on 100. The only thing keeping you sane is the fact that you're in public. You could kiss him forever.

Wait.

As much as you didn't want to, you pull away. Jungkook chases your lips again, capturing them again. His fingers dig into your sides, pulling you extremely close. You couldn't help but to kiss him back again. Your fingers go straight up to his hair and you pull. That's when he almost fell over. You didn't notice how much he was holding you up.

“Sorry, I think I almost just came.” His voice was rough. You giggled a bit, making his heart tingle a bit. His cheeks burned.

It hits you again.

“Fuck, what time is it?”

“Who the fuck is this?” Hanjoons voice roars behind you, making you jump behind Jungkook.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I have to go…” You pull your hand out of his.

When did it even get there? It felt really good.

“Absolutely not.”

“Ahh, Jeon Jungkook, is that you?” Hanjoon starts to laugh. “What are you doing here? All over my mate?” His voice got cold real fast.

You didn't want them to fight, and bring attention to everything, even though it was late at night.

You quickly pull your hand away and run over to Hanjoon. You didn't want to, geez, you really didn't want to. But you've seen Hanjoon at his full power, he was terrifying.

You get behind Hanjoon and look back at your mate. His eyes were glowing a bright bright yellow, golden almost. His body shook and his head fell downward.

“You know my pretty little mate, if I knew your so-called boyfriend was Beta wolf Kim Hanjoon, I would've gone about this all a little differently. Come here baby…” His voice was like razors, not his usual voice. Telling you that his wolf was on the surface.

A hand comes out and grabs you by your neck catching you off guard. His wolf strength took you by surprise, making you gasp out for air. Your hands scratch at Hanjoons, begging him to let go.

You hear a huge growl, making goosebumps grow on your arms.

“Ah ahh. I will claim her right and now.” He pulls you around, exposing your face to Jungkook. He was mid run, frozen at Hanjoons words.

I'm going to die.

Jungkook reaches up to his chest and rubs over his heart.

“I mean I might as well kill you both.” Hanjoons were drowned out. You soon realize that your vision is going black. His hand around your neck, never loosening his grip.

Next thing you know you were dropped to the ground and a loud commotion.

Your face was turning purple, your eyes closing. Your mouth wording his name. He felt like he couldn't breath. Fuck.

If you were a full wolf, you would've walked up to him and left with him in the store. Of course it didn't go that way, because you were human. He understands though. You are clearly in an abusive relationship, with someone who deserves nothing but death.

Jungkook knew he couldn't do anything. He had everything under control, until you ran back to him. He almost fell to his knees at that moment.

But thankfully Yugy, one of his best friends/ fighters in his pack. Within the next five seconds Yugy comes up and breaks his neck in one quick snap. It causes you to fall to the ground. He could be mad because without his help, you both could have been killed. So easily.

That's what sucks about having a high rank and having a mate. Any enemy goes right for the mate, and marking.

The pain you endure, you can't even stand up. You can't talk, or scream, or even cry. Because the only thing you can feel and understand, is pain.

Jungkook runs over to you, laying on the ground trying to catch your breath.

Yugy picks up Hanjoon and drags him off to his other friends. They are going to take it to the wolf cops and tell them to get the park's cameras. As soon as the cops see that he was threatening Jungkook by marking his mate, he has instant punishment. And whoever kills him gets away with it.

It is just the number one rule among wolves. You can do anything you want, just don't touch or mention another's mate. Sadly, that's the first thing most go for, and most don't make it out alive to tell the story on how they threatened another's mate.

Jungkook picks you up bridal style and he takes you to the bench. You couldn't help but to hold onto him tightly. You wouldn't let him go when he wanted to set you on the bench. He laughs softly and just sits down with you on his lap.

“I'm sorry.” You croak out.

“It's okay love, I'm here now.”

A couple of days later, you and Jungkook were laying on your couch, not saying anything. You've actually been avoiding him the past couple of days. You told him that you just needed to clear your mind for a bit. Hanjoon was gone, but that doesn't mean the damage he did was gone. Today Jungkook came by begging to at least sit next to you. His wolf could handle being away anymore.

That's when you realized how selfish you were being. The mating pull is so much stronger for a wolf. Thankfully you had a patient mate. No other wolf would agree to staying away.

So now you're here. Laying, your legs on his lap. His fingers run over your skin. You didn't know what to say or what to do.

“What now?” You ask, you look up at him with wondering eyes. He was stuck for a moment.

“My wolf is happy as long as you're near. We can go as slow, or as fast as you want.”

You were the one stuck now. If you were full wolf, everything would've been so much easier. You sat up, making Jungkook look at you confused. He whined a bit when you pulled your legs away from his hold. But you didn't hear it.

You decided to be sporadic and climb onto his lap. You couldn control your body after that though. Your body was buzzing and you got goosebumps. When Jungkook places his hands on your bum, your body seems to melt into his.

“You feel really nice.” You whisper to no one in particular. Jungkook heard, but didn't say anything. He was too caught up in watching you.

You trailed your fingers over his arms, following the veins that are poking out. Jungkook's self control was sleeping more and more every second. Causing his veins to pop out more.

You grab his hand and lace your fingers through his hand. And like a fucking puzzle, a perfect fit. You couldn't help but to admire how perfect your hands looked locked together.

You went to pull your hand away, but he wouldn't let you. In fact he held your hand even tighter.

You look at him, wondering what he was thinking. He just squints his eyes back at you, setting your hands down together.

Your heart was truly beating so fast. With your other hand, you trailed your fingers up his other arm.

“How does that feel to you?” You wanted to know, knowing that wolves' senses are heightened. He doesn't say anything.

Instead he brings the hand that he's holding up to his chest. You feel a pounding against his chest. Going really really fast.

Before you could say anything, he then brings the hands that were on his chest down to his lap. Your hand then feels some warm, and hard.

“Jungkook…” Your voice was hoarse, your throat felt like it was a desert.

“I have about five more minutes of control left…” His words made something inside you flip. You didn't feel so shy and nervous anymore. Your hand continues to trail upwords.

Your fingertips go up his neck and you weave them through the back of his hair.

As soon as you did, his hands grab on to your waist and pull you close to his face. Your chests connected, you were sure he could feel your heart beating.

“You said five minutes.” You giggle. His eyes start to glow.

“Well you found one of my weaknesses.” His mouth formed a small smile, his cheeks burning red. You smile back, pulling on his hair a bit, scratching your nails against his scalp.

That was like pushing the growl button.

“Time to get off now, it's getting really fucking hot in here.” His voice sounded like he was in pain, his hands lifting you up. But you didn't want to go. You acted fast and captured his lips with yours. His hands seemed to stop trying to move you, and instead tugs you back in. His kisses you back like there's no tomorrow. His body moves and your back suddenly meets the couch.

“God Ill never get used to these.” He says kiss your lips a couple more times before he deepens it even more.

#bts #bangtan #jeon #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jungkook #mate #wolf #rejection #kpop #ambw

62 notes · View notes