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kiribaku-queen · 3 years

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The Blood King and his Queen [13]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 3.0K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Feeling alot better but still not fully recovered, but I'm getting there! I hope you enjoy this week chapter and see you Friday! Happy reading, loves!

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“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

“Put that down, we have to go!”

“(y/n), didn’t you hear the news? There’s a special guest coming!” one of the girls grabbed you, trying to make you hurry to go somewhere. You were just as confused as some of the girls you were with.

“What’s going on?” you questioned. Everything was running around, the scene so hectic that you couldn’t wrap your head around anything that was going on.

“We don’t have time! Just, come on!” the girls grabbed you by the arm and rushed you into this big room where you usually greet your guests. A huge square table sat in the middle of the room with pillows neatly surrounding it to be used as seats. Small teacups were being set the moment you entered the room and the girls were getting adjusted to their positions. They were making sure that everyone was presentable: their clothes were neat and free from stains, their hair was up and neatly placed. They also made sure that everything in the room was in the right place, right where they should be. Two sets of tea pots were at each end of the table, ready to be served to the guests.

You were about to take your place in line, but one of the older servants took you to the side and make you stand right next to one of the teapot.

“Wha-” you were about to refuse this position, since it’s usually reserved for only the most deserving servants, but was quickly hushed.

“You’ll be serving tea to our special guests,” she quickly explained. “The princess specifically asked you.” God, why you again? As much as you didn’t want to, you didn’t have any room to argue. So you stood there, making sure that your uniform was on correctly and that not even a single piece of hair was misplaced on your head.

“They’re here! Places girls! Be on your best behavior,” the eldest servant ordered and she made herself comfortable in her place right by the double doors. The double doors opened and on cue, every single girl, including you, bowed their heads low to their special guests.

In came the princess first. Not much a surprise there. Without a word, she made her way to the middle of the table where she sat comfortably in her designated spot, purposely leaving a seat open right next to her. Right behind her, came her personal servants who stood behind her. Then, powerful footsteps walked into the room, their presence having an effect on everyone in the room. Their presence was so powerful that it send shivers down your spine. Who was this special guest that carried such a strong aura like that? The guest exhaled deeply, allowing a low growl escape. But something in that growl made your throat hitch and your heart stop. You knew that voice anywhere. But it couldn’t be…

“Presenting: Prince Bakugou Katsuki! We humbly welcome you to our kingdom,” one of the guards announced. They offered him a seat right across from the princess, his rightful fiancée. And he accepted reluctantly.

He sat down roughly and not so elegantly. A permanent scowl remained on his face and all the girls shook in fear. They expected the Blood Prince to cause great fear but experiencing it for the first time was frightening. But not to you. You knew it was all an act. But still, you heart was feeling heavy upon his arrival. You happened to glance up, just to get a quick glance. Was that really him? And sure enough. One leg was crossed while the other was propped up and he leaned back with such carelessness. He hadn’t seen you yet, which was a good thing. He didn’t need to know you were here. You bit your lip to try to hide any emotions peeking through. Taking deep breaths slowly in and out, you tried to regulate your emotions as best as you could.

The Prince’s soldiers traveled close behind him, taking a seat on both sides of their prince. Shit, now there was a higher chance that one of them was going to notice you. One of the ladies nudged you, snapping you out of your thoughts. She was giving you a stern look and moving her eyes to the teapot. Right, you had a job to do. You were too busy worrying about yourself that you forgot that you were the one supposed to be pouring the tea. And you were supposed to do that a while ago and the other girl was waiting on you since you both had to start at the same time.

Snapping out of it, you grabbed the teapot and began pouring tea for the special guests. Unlucky for you, you had to serve the side with Bakugou’s men. Which means that you were about to pour tea for Bakugou. But you weren’t ready to face him yet. The closer you got to him, the more your chest pounded out of nervousness.

It didn’t help that the first drink you poured was for him. He was the very special guest of the day, of course he had to be served first. As carefully as you could, and without sparing a glance at him, you kneeled down to level yourself before pouring the hot tea into his cup. You solely focused on the steaming liquid to further suspicion that you were there.

But Bakugou almost didn’t notice you. He wasn’t even going to look in your direction. But when he saw that fragile hand, he happened to glance up and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Bakugou had to take a doubletake at you. He thought his eyes had deceived him. But after a closer look, he was sure it was you. He felt like time had stopped and all he could hear was the rapid beat of his heart. You took away this breath, like you did every time. The way you looked so concentrated, the way your lips were slightly parted, eyebrows furrowed ever so lightly, eyes twinkling in the sun’s reflection. Breathtaking. Yet he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. All he could do was watch your every move. He watched as you moved from him to the other guests in the room, gently pouring the tea, careful not to spill a single drop.

You made your way around the room, not noticing the pair of crimson eyes on you. The other girl hadn’t made her rounds yet, which means the princess hasn’t been poured her drink. You took the liberty to continue on and be the one to serve her. As you kneeled down, carefully holding the lid to dispense the hot liquid, the princess side eyed you and smirked. With a swift nudge, her elbow came into contact with your body, causing you to jerk and accidentally spill the tea all over the princess’s expensive and one-of-a-kind dress. Your mouth hung open in disbelief and horror as you realized what you just did.

“I’m-” you began to apologize but you couldn’t finish because of her hand coming into contact with your cheek, a sharp and strong pain immediately took effect. You could already feel your cheek swelling up. The slap was so loud that it caused the whole room to be silenced and all eyes were on you.

“How dare you be so careless!” the princess scolded you, wiping away the excess water.

Bakugou’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him. Suddenly, he was seeing red and rage began to build in him. He put his strong hand on the table with great force and was about to stand up, but a hand stopped him. When Bakugou looked over with fury in his eyes, Kirishima was looking straight ahead, shaking his head.

It was a warning. If he knew what was best for you, then he wouldn’t react. He has to let it go for your sake. Or else you’d get it worse later. And Bakugou knew that. He knew that but… seeing that happen to you and not being able to do anything for you left a bitter taste in his mouth. So he sat back down, feeling useless.

The slap stunned you. You stood there frozen in place, not knowing what to do for a second. But the growing ache on your cheek made you snap out of it. It was your fault. Had you been paying more attention, you wouldn’t have spilled on the princess. Your mistake. Bowing your head apologetically, you retreated back to your place among all the other girls. Your cheek was burning from how hard she slapped you that you made a slight face of agony.

Bakugou saw this as he was still observing you. And it turned his mood even more sour, like it wasn’t sour already. He had to bite his tongue, no matter how badly he wanted to act out.

After that whole ordeal, you found out that the Prince was staying for a bit. You groaned to yourself and thought how much you wish it wasn’t true. Now you were going to be seeing more of him. Oh well, at least you don’t have to talk to him. You’re only serving him, like you should be as a servant. No more, no less. But you know you’re heart was going to break every time you were going to be around him. That part you weren’t looking forward to, but you didn’t have to look or speak to him.

You thought that you were being lowkey about avoiding the Blood Prince. None of the girls had asked you about your relationship with him ever since that first time, but there was one girl who paid a little bit more attention towards you. Her being one of your best friends.

She noticed that you were acting weird, purposely looking away from the Prince or whenever he comes up in conversation. You were avoiding him at all costs.

There were so many instances where you were in the presence of the great Prince, whether it would be serving him or passing by him, and his eyes were always on you. And only you.

You could be the one serving him tea and while his eyes were concentrated on you, you would be looking away. Anywhere but him. You would be one of the princess’s attendants while her and the Prince took a stroll in the garden. And the girls would be talking about them but you were silent the entire time, never looking in their direction. You would either be looking to the side or down at the ground. There are times when you and some of the other girls would be passing him by and you would quickly shut your mouth, looking down at the ground. Again, the Prince’s gaze was always on you. Something happened between you two while you were away on your failed mission and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

The princess was also noticing what Bakugou was going and she was getting angry about it with every passing day. She wanted the Prince to look only at her, not some servant he happened to fall in love with. It was all your fault. She shouldn’t have sent you in the first place. She just didn’t want to get married! But after seeing who she was getting married to, now she couldn’t complain. He was too handsome to pass up, even if he had a bad attitude. Think. What could she do to punish you even more? Then it hit her. The princess smirked because she couldn’t wait to use her new toy on you.

Your friend had also noticed you were acting strange around the Prince’s soldiers. You would always try to avoid them as much as possible. But it was hard when they were staying close to the servants quarters.

You were on your way to do the laundry, hands full with a basket of clothes when you run into the Blood Prince’s trusted soldiers. You were already exhausted with the day’s events. Finally getting around to doing the laundry was your time to relax and have time for yourself. But that mood turned quickly when you saw that familiar red hair. Kirishima, Denki, Sero and Mina had all stopped in their tracks and you did the same. The feeling of shame hit you all over again, and you couldn’t look them in the eyes. You bowed to them, not saying anything and turned around with your basket of clothes. You were so close to the laundry pool. So, so close. It was literally right there. But you decided to take the longer route to the pool, to avoid any conversation or ridicule you would get from Bakugou’s soldiers.

But that wasn’t the case. Their hearts hurt, seeing your pained expression. You were hurt, confused, ashamed, humiliated. They could see it all. Mina wanted to go after you. She took one step but was stopped by Kirishima holding her arm back.

But-” Mina tried to argue but Kirishima gave her a stern look.

“It’s not our place,” he said and Mina backed down, regretfully. Kirishima looked off into the distance towards your direction and sighed. He wanted to talk to you, too. To comfort you. They all did. But they knew the only person who could, was Bakugou.

Kirishima had closed the shoji screen door behind him with a soft click. Bakugou was laying down on his side with one hand propping his head up and one leg bent in a comfortable position, all while fanning himself with a hand fan.

“Your Highness,” Kirishima bowed, greeting his long time friend.

“What is it?” Bakugou rudely asked. His temper had gotten out of control since you left. But the red haired wasn’t fazed at all.

“(y/n),” was all he said to make the Blood Prince halt his every movement. “She is at the river pool doing laundry, if you wish to see her.” Without hesitation, Bakugou stood up and stormed out of there, heading your direction. Instead of confronting you directly, he decided to climb the building and onto the plated roof that overlooked the river pool.

The laundry pool was outside, the water was steaming with hot water. You had taken your slippers off at the entry and walked along the wet, stoned path to get to the water. Several girls were there, also doing their share of the laundry, but you had gotten there pretty late. That was mostly because you were still tending to the princes. One by one, they were on their way back to the servant’s quarters, leaving you alone. Which was okay, because you needed some alone time.

Little did you know, you weren’t actually alone. Bakugou was watching your every move. From how your wash and beat the laundry to you wiping your face, hissing at the pain that was still on your cheek. Bakugou was feeling many mixed emotions at the moment. His heart leapt at the sight of you, but was also heartbroken because of what you did. He didn’t know if he could forgive you but he fucking missed you. He missed you so much. There was never a moment where you weren’t running around in his mind. When he saw how much pain you were in, he had to restrain himself from jumping down there to see if you were okay. Before it got too much for him, he forced himself to leave.

Laundry was exhausting for sure. It was time consuming and required a lot of energy. But it was so late and no one around you, so you took your time wringing and flattening the clothes. No one could bother you. No one could talk to you. You were left to be distracted by your own thoughts. This was probably your favorite time of the day because it was so relaxing. You had saw movement out of the side of your eyes but when you went to look, there was nothing there. You looked again, and nothing.

“Huh,” you shrugged to yourself. You must have imagined it because you were so exhausted.

On your way back, you sighed with fatigue, your back aching from bending down all day. You couldn’t wait to finally hit your not-so-soft bed and turn in for the night. But someone had taken your hand and pulled you aside. It was your best friend who was keeping tabs on you this whole time.

“Okay, spill,” she ordered, hands crossed against her chest.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, confused.

“What really happened to you when you were with the Prince?” she asked and your face dropped. All of a sudden, now she wants to ask this? Did she find something out? Did someone snitch? But who? She could see the panic in your eyes and sighed.

“You’ve been acting really weird lately. Ever since the Prince showed up. I know you haven’t been 100% truthful. So what happened between you two?” she asked. You didn’t even have to say anything and she could tell. It was all in your eyes.

“You’re in love with him?” she whispered and you bowed your head in shame. “You know you’ll never be together, right? You’re just a servant. Born a servant and will always be a servant. What were you thinking?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what fairy tail I was living in,” you admit.

“Well snap out of it. You might get us all in trouble if you keep that up,” she said before taking her leave.

She was right. Any sane person could see that a Prince, soon-to-be King, would never be with someone of her status. It was a mistake to fall for him. You knew that from the very beginning. Yet… every time you saw him, your heart wanted to burst with happiness. You wanted to be wrapped in his embrace. Feel his lips against yours. You wanted to fall asleep and wake up next to him every morning. You wanted to tell him silly food puns at every chance you got. You wanted to go another hot spring with him, this time without the monkey. You wanted to continue to help those helpless people around his kingdom. You saw a future with him. But that very image crumbled before your very eyes and you were left with nothing. Because like your friend said, you were a servant, nothing more, nothing less.

A/N: I'd love to know your thoughts and if you would like to be added on the tag list! When will (y/n) get a break? Next chapter? mmmmmmmmmmmmmm probs not!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @daddy-daichis @stardream14 @bevaevar @cathwritestragediesnotsins @luvtaromilktea @aaannaabbanana@i-ameri-cant @shyonigirichan @aomi04 @anime-for-live @maggiecc @cloudsgathering @backoftheletter @moshi-moshi-angie015 @sabrinakishi @thegirlfrom-rio @taceticbitch @liv-hearts

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou romance #bakugou drama #bakugou angst #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bnha art #bakugou #the blood king and his queen

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

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Death and an Angel part 12

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: It’s sort of funny though, to imagine Din being defeated by Gideon’s sword.

It’s sort of funny, except...

Well.

It isn’t really funny at all.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,704 (good lord I’m tired...)

Warnings: angst, swearing, one brief moment of sexual harassment, lots of assumptions made, Dark Din returns and some familiar characters make themselves known

Author Note: Believe me I want Din and Cupid reunited as much as all of you do, but my dark side keeps saying just stretch it out a little bit longer 😈 All the love to each and every reader out there, the support you give me keeps me sane and happy each week ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 11 and Part 13

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

You wipe furiously at your face, smearing tears across your cheeks, while inwardly cursing yourself for showing weakness in front of Gideon. A lump forms in your throat as you replay the last sixty seconds on loop in your head, imagining exactly how Din will react to each sentence, especially those last two words: let go. This will be the one and only time you’re thankful you can’t feel Din’s half of the bond. If he’s feeling even a smidge of the throbbing, torturous pain you’re feeling right now, experiencing both sides would have overwhelmed you. Of all the commands Gideon could have chosen, why would he choose to taunt Din with that one? It’s as if the Seraph is purposefully trying to piss Din off.

Maybe he is insane, you think, not for the first time, just as he starts to clap his hands together in applause.

“Well done,” Gideon says, almost in admiration. “You’re a much better actress than I imagined you’d be.”

“It wasn’t an act,” you snap back.

“Regardless, you’ve served your part well.” He reaches forward to pat your head, and you honestly deserve an award for not giving into the urge to break his hand. “If it would make you feel better, I could make you forget this moment ever happened. Should I require you to send a second message, it would certainly make it all the more bittersweet for you to think it was your first attempt.”

His words make no sense at first, and you merely sit there in the chair blinking back at him, some distant part of you aware of how your eyelashes are still wet and stuck together. Involuntarily, you find yourself recalling Din’s reaction to your memory loss, how he had muttered under his breath he thought someone was responsible for the blank spots. Your mouth falls open in shock as Gideon’s meaning clicks.

“You...You tampered with my memories?” you whisper.

“It wasn’t personal. There are holes in every Cupid’s head.”

Why would he use his powers so cruelly and invasively? How does he choose which memories to erase? These questions and more run through your head, but you don’t voice them aloud. Everything you’ve heard about and actually seen in person about Gideon has solidified your opinion he is a certifiable control freak. Of course he would use his memory-erasing ability to further establish his position of authority amongst the Cupids.

Your eyes drift to the Cupid twi’lek behind him. “Is that why she’s here? You brainwashed her into joining you?”

“I made my own choice,” she replies, tone as sharp as the knife she twirls with nimble fingers. It doesn’t gleam like metal, instead faintly sparkling just like your arrows do. Kyber crystal, you realize with a chill of uneasiness. “You don’t see me in a collar, do you?”

“Indeed, I cannot alter memories, only erase them. It was free will that brought Xi’an to me, not manipulation,” Gideon says with a smile, but his eyes glimmer in a way that makes your throat close up with fear. “She has become a loyal and valuable ally.”

Valuable. One word and your suspicions are confirmed. Collared or not, Xi’an is just as much a toy for Gideon to play with as you and Din are. The only difference is she doesn’t seem to realize she is one. Or, and this is a dangerous possibility, she does know and simply doesn’t give a damn.

“She’s your ally?” you echo, nervously licking your lips. “What does that mean?”

“She has dedicated herself to the achievement of my goal.”

You know he’s purposefully baiting you, but still you find yourself asking, “And that goal is?”

Gideon leans forward, invading your personal space even as you jerk backwards in your seat. The smile has been wiped from his face, replaced with narrowed eyes and a twisted scowl. He deliberately presses the unlit laser sword against the middle of your chest in the space between your breasts, thumb teasingly hovering over the activation button.

When he answers, you’ve never heard anyone else speak as seriously as him.

“To finish what I started.”

The words linger in the air the same foreboding way Din’s reapers linger around hospitals. You don’t realize you’re not breathing until Gideon steps back after several pounding heartbeats pass and your lungs are on fire. You suck in a breath of relief, but your body remains tense, recognizing the dangerous situation you’re still stuck in.

“Mayfeld,” Gideon addresses the man armed with three guns who immediately straightens. “Take her back to her cell.”

You don’t resist as Mayfeld grabs you by the upper arm and tugs you out of your seat. It’d take a miracle to incapacitate him and everyone else in the room before they subdued you. No, you can’t make any rash decisions. The right moment will come, you tell yourself. It has to.

...Right?

“So, what’s it like being Death’s soulmate?”

You’re jerked out of your thoughts by Mayfeld’s voice. You side-eye him, keeping your mouth firmly shut.

“I mean, I’ve heard he never takes off the helmet,” he continues, unbothered by your silence. “But surely you must’ve seen what’s underneath there. If it were me, I’d definitely wanna know the face of the guy I’m allegedly destined to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Allegedly?” The question slips out before you can stop yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not so much a believer in fate or destiny or true love. And now that I know the guy who’s the boss of Cupid operations?” He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Forget about ever trying to convince me the universe has a mortal’s best interests in mind when it allows a Seraph as bat-shit crazy as the Moff to have the power he has.”

“If you think he’s insane, why do you work for him?”

“The pay’s good,” he answers with a laugh. “Plus, if he really does pull off this plan of his, well...let’s just say I’d rather be in his corner than anywhere else.”

“You do realize though that anyone in Gideon’s corner is an enemy of Death’s?” you say, half-taunting him half-genuinely curious about his reaction.

“That thought has recently crossed my mind,” is all he replies.

The conversation comes to a halt when you arrive back at your cell. Mayfeld pushes you inside, but the force is noticeably gentler than the thug who had manhandled you earlier. Standing near the pallet, you watch as he digs a remote out of the pocket of his pants and activates the laser grid with a single press of a button.

Interesting.

You expect Mayfeld to immediately return to Gideon’s side, so you’re surprised and more than a little confused when the man continues to linger. A minute of silence ticks by and your confusion changes to frustration. What does he want?

Just as your mouth opens to snidely voice the question, the baby chooses that precise moment to sneak back into your cell. Your heart leaps into your throat as you rush forward to grab him, torn between forcibly shoving him back into the hole or foolishly attempting to hide him behind your back.

“There’s the little green guy,” Mayfeld says, and you pause at the audible note of cheerfulness in his voice. The baby coos in your arms, waving his hand in the man’s direction.

They kriffing know each other?

Mayfeld notices your bewildered expression. “What? You think none of us noticed he doesn’t like staying put? We might be mercenaries, but we’re not complete idiots.”

“You’re a heartless bastard,” you spit, holding the baby tighter against your chest. “He’s a baby and you’re doing nothing to get him out of here.”

“First of all,” he counters, holding up a finger. “Ouch. And second,” he points that same finger directly at the baby, “that little guy is older than me so calling him a ‘baby’ isn’t exactly fair.”

Your eyes sweep over Mayfeld, estimating him to be at least forty. You then look at the green face smiling back at you. Yeah, there’s no way he’s telling the truth.

“You’re a liar.”

“Maker, the hits just keep on coming.” Mayfeld rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie about his age?”

“I…” you trail off, unable to come up with an excuse.

“Exactly.” He nods smugly. “Look, he fooled me, too, with those big brown eyes of his. If I hadn’t witnessed what he can do when that collar’s off, I might have been suckered into releasing him. He’s cute, sure, but he’s also secretly a menacing gremlin.”

You frown. “What do you mean you’ve seen what he can do?”

“I mean he’s got powers. He can lift things with his mind, throw men against walls five times his size like they weigh nothing. What’s worse is he uses those powers to steal. I had a pack of cookies I was saving and he levitated them right out of my pocket.”

Your disbelief falters at that last bit. You had already surmised the baby had stolen the cookies, but not like this. Looking down at him again, the collar stands out more prominently than ever before. Xi’an told you they were purposefully designed to prohibit the use of powers. Why else would the baby wear one if he didn’t possess some type of special ability?

“You really have some serious trust issues, don’t you?” Mayfeld says, almost sounding impressed by your stubborn reluctance to believe him.

“I’m currently being held hostage by a psychopath,” you retort. “I think I’m allowed to be suspicious of a mercenary who says everything that pops into his head.”

His lips purse. “Alright. That’s a good point.”

“Isn’t it risky?” you ask, stepping closer to the gate. “Sharing all this information with me?”

“Only if you don’t appreciate the value of it all.”

Your brow furrows, not understanding.

“Look,” he lowers his voice meaningfully. “One way or another, Gideon and Death are gonna face each other and only one side will win. Gideon wins, great. Status quo unchanged. But if your soulmate wins?” He grimaces at the prospect. “By talking to you, I’m trying to cover all my bases here.”

Your brain works rapidly to fill in the blanks. “So, let me get this straight. You think that by getting on my good side, Death won’t murder you?” A wide grin stretches across your face, not the least bit friendly. “Oh, honey, you’ve got to do so much better than that. With what you’ve given me so far, the only kindness he’ll spare you is ripping your throat out quickly so you don’t suffer long.”

Take the bait.

“Oh, yeah?” A flicker of nervousness flashes across his face. He shifts his stance, arms crossing over his chest. “What would I have to do to not have that happen? I’m, uh, open to suggestions.”

Good, good, good.

“You get me the keys to these collars, I can guarantee you’ll walk out of here with every limb attached and not one drop of blood spilt.”

A long beat passes wordlessly. It would be completely silent if not for the baby’s quiet whining as he cuddles against you, unsettled by the tense atmosphere.

“You’re not the only one with trust issues,” Mayfeld says at last. “Maybe you can guarantee Death won’t kill me, but how do I know you won’t kill me with your bow yourself?”

You say nothing, not because you’re guilty of thinking of that specific scenario, but because you don’t know how to convince him you haven’t considered it. Anyone else in your same predicament would undoubtedly shoot him the first chance they got. He is an enemy after all. A minor one, true, but nevertheless contributing to the effort of keeping you separated from Din. He also clearly only has his own self-interest in mind, making him unpredictable and untrustworthy. Who’s to say he won’t attempt to double-cross you somehow?

All these reasons are valid and should make you hate him, but something inside of you isn’t allowing you to commit wholeheartedly to the feeling. And as much as it pains you to admit it, you know that ‘something’ is fear. You’ve never killed anyone before. Shot someone with an ichor arrow? Yes, several times, but not once was the wound fatal. As your list of escape options continues to dwindle though, you’re terrified of the possibility you’ll have no choice but to personally be responsible for ending someone’s life.

“There’s my answer,” Mayfeld says. His words are distressingly ambiguous, but it’s the way he bobs his head in a decisive manner and turns his back on you that causes your stomach to tie itself into knots.

Throat suddenly dry, you struggle to choke out, “Wait, I—”

He starts whistling an upbeat tune as he walks away, ignoring your attempts at reclaiming his attention. You listen hopelessly as the sound gradually grows farther and farther away, until eventually all you can hear is silence.

And once more, it’s just you and the baby alone in the cell.

You lie on the pallet, staring up at the ceiling with the baby sleeping on your stomach. You reflect on everything that has happened since you left Arvala-7, taking every moment apart piece by piece to figure out what you know.

From what you’ve witnessed, you don’t think your superiors are involved in or even aware of Moff Gideon’s plans. Lang, Hess, and Morgan were his associates, not allies like he’d called Xi’an. The difference is subtle, but profound in meaning. You wonder if the three of them have had memories erased too, if they know Gideon was responsible.

He had told them you were being hidden away to prevent other Cupids from knowing you had a second soulmate, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Gideon wants you as his hostage because you’re Din’s soulmate. He wants to use you as leverage to get Din to do what he wants. Initially, you assumed that meant kill those who Gideon considered enemies, but that assumption was proven incorrect when you sent the message to Din without naming even one potential target.

Unfortunately, you think that is not the only wrong assumption you’ve made recently. Gideon had forced you to tell Din to let go. The bond had cried out with agony when you’d said the words out loud as it had thought you were telling Din to let go of you. But looking back at the incident with a clearer head, you find yourself wondering why hadn’t Gideon included those two extra words if that was what he meant? It’s not like there wasn’t plenty of space left to write them on the paper.

If he didn’t mean for Din to let go of you, then logically that would mean he wants Din to let go of something else. Something important enough that Gideon is taking advantage of your relationship in order to convince him to release it.

But what could Din possibly possess that Gideon wants this badly? Din doesn’t own anything valuable except for the Crest and his armor, and you doubt either of those will further progress Gideon towards his goal.

To finish what I started.

Hours later and you still can’t figure out what the kriff he’s talking about. No matter which way you twist or turn the phrase over in your mind, it’s incomprehensible. What did he start? When did it happen? How does he intend to finish it?

Considering how your previous assumptions were both flawed, you really shouldn’t be making another one, but you can’t get the moment of when he’d pressed the sword against your chest out of your mind. The action itself screamed intimidation as well as sexual harassment, but when you think about how he did it at the same time he revealed his goal, your gut instinct is telling you to definitely assume the two are connected to each other.

And then there’s Mayfeld’s comment about there being an inevitable clash between Din and Gideon. He had sounded so certain there would only be one victor, but, unlike you, he hadn’t immediately placed his bet on Din. Which makes no sense to you. Everyone knows it’s an indisputable fact Din is the most powerful entity in the universe, second only to the Maker. The chance of Gideon winning their fight is so slim it’s infinitesimal.

It’s sort of funny though, to imagine Din being defeated by Gideon’s sword.

It’s sort of funny, except...

Well.

It isn’t really funny at all.

Over the span of Din’s existence, he had witnessed entire civilizations wiped out by war, genocide, disease. No matter the reason behind the tragedy, the universe always called him there in the final moments to walk amongst the ruins left behind, to watch those last to die mourn those who passed before them. In those moments, he felt powerless, knowing there was not one thing he could do to change any of it.

He realized the universe was trying to instill a lesson in him: what is meant to happen, will always happen. Regardless of who is hurt in the process.

And maybe he would have surrendered to the harsh teaching if his angel hadn’t been stolen from her rightful place at his side. No one, not even the fucking universe itself, is going to stop him from getting her back.

From their first meeting, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Then when she asked him question after question about his likes and dislikes, his hobbies, his favorite sights in the galaxy—he made the risky decision of trusting her. He revealed his face to her, allowed her to know every part of himself, and was stunned every time she didn’t fear or run away from what she discovered. He didn’t know whether to consider her stupid or brave, but the moment he first heard her laugh at one of his sarcastic quips he knew it was a sound he wanted to hear everyday for the rest of eternity.

When she showed him her marked hand, claiming they were each other’s soulmates, he swore to himself he’d dedicate himself to her happiness. Anything she wanted or asked for, he would give to her without question.

Except now she has asked him to do the impossible: to let go.

He replays the transmission enough times every word, every quiet hitch of breath, and every subtle twitch of her facial features is embedded in his mind. Bo-Katan heaves a sigh after the eighth loop, squeezing the bridge of her nose as if a headache was forming, but he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the hologram long enough to glare at the reaper. She doesn’t have a soulmate, therefore she can’t even begin to fathom how it feels when his half of the soulmate bond slams itself against the invisible wall separating him from his angel with all the unhinged ferocity of a feral beast.

If Din didn’t know his angel as intimately as she knew him, he might have believed those were her own words coming out of her mouth. However, throughout the entire length of the message he notices how her eyes nervously flick to the side every few seconds, as if she needs to reassure herself someone offscreen isn’t making any sudden movements. It’s all the confirmation he needs to know she’s being used as a mouthpiece against her will to demand Din gives up searching for her.

Din refuses to yield to the whims of an enemy who doesn’t have the balls to face him directly.

He channels his seething anger into steadfast determination as he stretches his powers out across the galaxy for a second time, this time searching for the twi’lek Hess so graciously identified for him. Her being the one to have dragged his soulmate out of Cupid headquarters couldn’t have been a random circumstance. If she has even the slightest notion of who the elusive immortal is that is responsible for shielding his angel from him, he’ll beat the name out of her just as he had her Cupid superior.

Bo-Katan, never one to stand still when she can be doing something useful, sends a message out to her fellow reapers to fill them in on the developing situation. Only Din can give them orders to follow, but she strongly recommends they interrogate any Cupid they come across for information about Xi’an.

Transmissions start flooding in an hour later of reapers reporting what they’ve learned. Turns out Xi’an is the type of person who finds joy in antagonizing others. No one claims her as their friend nor do they know what region of the galaxy she usually operates in. The most interesting tidbit learned from the interrogations is that several Cupids have admitted they often saw the twi’lek in the archives at headquarters, studying datapads and flipping through holobooks.

“She was searching for something,” Bo-Katan murmurs, brow creasing thoughtfully.

“Or she was gathering information on someone’s behalf.” Din’s eyes remained closed, focus split between the conversation and the search. “Only Cupids are allowed at their headquarters. She’d have no issue slipping in and out without anyone giving her a second—”

Every soul has a unique aura that can only be sensed by power-sensitive beings like himself. No two are the same, similar to fingerprints and snowflakes. Having a specific target in mind hastens the search of detecting them amongst the trillions of other beings inhabiting the galaxy, but it is not the fact that Din’s powers have just locked onto Xi’an’s soul that has his eyes snapping open. It is her location.

She’s on Umbriel.

“Stay with the ship,” he tells Bo-Katan.

Din teleports before the reaper responds, arriving at the front entrance of his soulmate’s apartment in the next blink. The front door is wide open and his jaw clenches as he recognizes the gesture for the taunt it is. Rolling his shoulders back, he enters the apartment, purposefully shutting and locking the door behind him.

“About time you showed up.” As soon as Din hears her voice, he’s reminded of a loth cat screeching when its tail is grabbed. The anger he’s been forcibly holding back starts to simmer beneath his armor, fingers twitching at his sides with the desire to wrap around her throat and squeeze.

He finds a purple-skinned twi’lek Cupid standing in the center of the living room. Or, what used to be considered the living room at least. Every piece of furniture has been broken and torn apart. The pile of newspapers kept in the corner are shredded and scattered across the floor. If he didn’t know how precious they were to his angel in her quest to reclaim her memories, he wouldn’t have cared about the mess, but he does know and his wrath increases exponentially.

“Xi’an,” he says, the name bitter on his tongue like a curse.

“The rumor mill says you’ve been looking for me,” she drawls, looking coy and fluttering her eyelashes. “I gotta say, I’m flattered by the attention.”

“Tell me where my soulmate is and you won’t meet the same fate as your boss.”

Her head tilts, tapping her fingers against her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Are you referring to Hess? I heard no one’s been able to reach him lately, but since I report to someone of much higher ranking I could hardly bring myself to care.” Her lips curl into a wicked smirk, revealing the faintest glimpse of her fangs. “You’ve piqued my interest now though, what’d you do to the bastard?”

“I ripped out his soul and crushed it into dust.”

She giggles, unpleasant and shrill. “How scandalous.”

His patience snaps.

“Enough of this.” He steps forward. “Tell me who you work for and where is my soulmate.”

A pair of knives appear in her hands, summoned in the same quick manner as his angel had drawn her bow.

“My answer to the first part is no. And as for the second, you need to be more specific.” She sneers. “Which part of her are you looking for?”

The noise that tears itself out of Din’s throat is one never made by another entity before. It is an outburst of ravenous fury, a promise of bloodshed and carnage, and a predator’s roar before they consume their prey all blended into one deafening war cry.

Xi’an maintains a brave face as she throws knife after knife at him, but as each one harmlessly deflects off his beskar and dissolves into a flicker of light, he sees her mask begin to crack, revealing her nervousness.

She resorts to throwing punches when he’s close enough, but there is no finesse and each one is sloppy. He catches her fist mid-swing with his own hand and twists, shattering her wrist. She gasps out a curse, but the unexpected reappearance of her mischievous smirk manages to catch him off guard.

“Are you gonna do it?” she asks, voice tight with pain, but the intent to provoke him is clear. “Unleash that beautiful darkness I can sense writhing around inside of you?”

He pins her against the wall harsh enough her teeth audibly clack against each other. Still she keeps smirking, still her voice drips like poison into his ears.

“You know you want to, sweetie, so just let go.”

Din’s powers lash out, incensed by those two words he’s sick of hearing. Latching onto her soul, she starts to choke, but the deranged glimmer of glee in her eyes makes him think she’d be laughing if she could.

Darkness starts to ooze out of his armor, resembling thick, black smoke. He can feel the sinister energy emanating from the very core of his being, as if the box it’s been trapped in has been unlocked and is seconds away from bursting open.

Some distant, far part of him is ringing every warning alarm and urging him to stop. But he ignores that voice of reason when he sees Xi’an’s soul start creeping up the back of her mouth, glowing brightly as it squirms in a futile attempt to free itself from the hold of his powers.

He grits his teeth, impatience prompting him to tug at it again, and—

The world lurches and transforms in a blur. When his vision adjusts, he’s no longer standing in his soulmate’s apartment, but instead surrounded by an abundance of scorched trees. Chest heaving, he struggles to clear his head of violent thoughts and make sense of what just happened.

Someone suddenly calls out from behind him, “I summoned you here to speak with you.”

Din recognizes the speaker’s voice before he actually turns to see the female togruta. She wears her usual blue-and-silver tunic and a brown headpiece embedded with a gem over her montrals. The ground is green beneath her feet, the only glimpse of flourishing nature for miles.

“I was in the middle of something, Ahsoka,” Din answers, stalking forward until they stand nearly toe to toe. He’s lost count of how many encounters they’ve had with one another over the years, but no matter the number he remains reluctant to consider her a friend since the Oracle has the irritating knack for disrupting his life when he least desires her presence.

She stands tall, but her hands move to rest on the hilts of the two sabers attached to her belt. “Have you forgotten your creed? When the universe needs you, you listen to it.”

“My soulmate needs me!” he shouts, trembling as another pulse of dark energy discharges from his body. It washes over Ahsoka like a harsh gust of wind, but while she remains unaffected, the patch of grass withers instantaneously.

“The universe recognizes that,” Ahsoka says, and while her calmness does nothing to ease his frayed nerves, her next words have him freezing in place. “And I’ll take you to her so long as you promise me one thing.”

Tentative hope slices through the erratic storm of frenzied emotions in his chest like a beam of sunlight. He searches Ahsoka’s face for the faintest hint of deception, but finds only sincerity.

“What is it?”

“You cannot kill Moff Gideon.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan, @stilllivindue2spite, @coaaster, @lin-djarin, @oh-no-a-whovian, @over300books, @chibi-yuki, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

#din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #my fic #my writing #death and an angel #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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bts-teaspoonff · 3 years

Text

Fangirl pt. 2

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Idol A/U

Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader

Rating: PG

Summary: Y/N, being a huge fangirl, finally got her chance to work alongside her favorite idol group as a backup dancer. She gets to know each member personally and realizes that her feelings may be more than fangirl-idol attraction.

Word Count: 4K

Taglist: @nochujeonjk

PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ... masterlist

“Hey there, early bird! I missed you!” As I was patting off the dust from my backside, my slight irritation was gone as my brother rushed to give me a big hug. We barely see each other nowadays, now that I live alone. We used to live together but he moved in with his girlfriend around three months ago. We used to be two peas in a pod, never leaving each other’s side. Best friends. I don’t hate that he moved out, though. I actually learned to be a lot more independent due to that, and I gained a new friend which was his girlfriend. She’s older than us by two years so I guess I gained an older sister through him. “Did you eat breakfast? Or maybe brunch?” he peeked at his watch as he continues to hug me.

“Only a roll of kimbap from the aunty across my building. I don’t want to eat a lot when I’m nervous.” I giggled as I release him from my arms.

He exclaimed with his mouth agape. “Right. You tend to vomit when you’re really nervous.” He pats my shoulder and escorted me up the steps and through the doors. “Don’t worry, they’ll love you. Those guys are really nice, but I can’t say anything about your new teammates since they’re new as well. Let’s just pray they treat you well.” He pats my head in adoration. We arrived at the front desk and I proceeded to ask for Mina. She gave me a visitor’s ID and my brother broke my conversation with her when she offered to give me directions, telling that he’ll escort me on the floor where I’m needed instead.

We exited the elevator and he directed me to a hallway with huge glass door at the end. We turned and maneuvered our way to another hallway with two huge frosted glass. He pushed the door and I could see the whole floor until the other end of the building, with rows of cubicles and people with eyes glued to their screens. A beautiful, cozy and conducive workplace. Some were huddling and discussing, and a few of them were chatting and exchanging laughs. Jiyong pulled my hand and we increased our pace. “I want you to meet my team.”

I was greeted by somewhat familiar faces as I recognize them from my last video call with my brother. Three men and two women were chatting around a circular table in a small room. Some of them got up from their seats as my brother entered the room with me following him behind.

“Wow. Now that we see you in person, you both really look alike. That’s amazing.” One female rushed to my brother’s side, pushed him against me, and gazed at our faces. I stared at my brother and he also stared back. We both chortle as we both felt amused with his workmates. We grew up used to people amazed with us looking so similar to each other, being identical twins. I spent a few moments with my brother’s workmates and they congratulated me as they discover that I’ll work for the same company along them. They gave lots of advices, tips and whatnots to make work life here easier. My brother proceeded to excuse both of us out the room, across the huge office space and back to the elevator.

“I know you don’t want to eat but let me at least get you coffee or something small to bite. I don’t think you had coffee yet, and we both know how you function without it.” I actually forgot to make coffee for myself back at home or even dropped by my favorite coffee shop along the way. I was too nervous to actually remember. “Relax sis.” He giggled as he rubbed his hands on my shoulder, pushing me inside the elevator.

He escorted me to the cafeteria in the lobby. He offered to pay and I obliged. I ordered a really huge cup of Iced Americano and he ordered his coffee and snack. I missed spending quality time like this with my brother, though brief. I glanced at my watch and it was already 9:40 am. I gulped down my coffee within 5 minutes, almost choking with how swift I finished it. I pushed his arm to alert him to hurry as he was supposed to escort me to where the meeting is.

I arrived just outside of the room. I was staring at the frosted glass with my hand frozen inches away from the doorknob. Upon opening, I was met with turning heads and stares from girls sitting around on the floor of the dance practice room. I guess they’re the newly hired female backup dancers. Great, they all know each other already. Maybe they all belong in a dance crew? Why am I nervous?

“Nice to meet you everyone.” I bowed as I slowly trot towards them. “Are you here for the meeting as well?” A few of them stood up quickly and bowed back.

A fellow dancer that I didn’t notice at the far right side of the room bowed as well. We all exchanged introductions as they offered me to sit with them. They all seem nice and friendly. Ages were asked and it turns out I’m the maknae out of all the 15 dancers here inside the room. I also discovered that half of us were part of the same street dance crew, five were former backup dancers of other idols and I’m the only sole dancer without a crew.

Two men came inside the dance room and talked to us for around 2 hours. I’m guessing they’re the dance directors. They informed us that even though they accepted us as a part of the dance team already, they’ll be asking us to participate at a live evaluation later today with freestyle dance. I looked around the room and I was more nervous than ever. I felt slightly intimidated by the presence of all these seasoned dancers. Deep down in my mind, I think I’m out of my league here. I got myself into a situation where I’m the least experienced out of everyone.

As the main choreographers continue to talk, I couldn’t hold in my pee. I really need to go to the restroom right now but I’m too shy to excuse myself out. “Why did I have to gulp down a huge cup of coffee just before this meeting? This is so not helping with my nerves.” To my luck, they concluded the meeting and excused themselves out of the room to leave all of us to prepare for the live evaluation. I bolted out of the room in search for a restroom. I faintly recalled a sight of a restroom just across the hallway. I ran past a practice room, blasting to Fake Love and a few chatters and laugh. I unconsciously hummed to the song in my head, closing my eyes for a moment as I ran to the restroom.

I opened my eyes and didn’t grasp the second I bumped into someone in front of the restroom signs dividing the female and male rooms. My backside embraced the floor once more.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see…” To my luck, the person I bumped into was…

“Yoongi hyung. Should we...?” Jimin quickly came out from the male restroom just behind Yoongi, whom I’ve bumped into. Yoongi was looking at me, examining my face and slowly recollecting the memory from this morning.

“You again? I thought I told you to watch where you’re going.” He just stood there as I rub my backside. He was about to bend down and reach his hand out but Jimin quickly offered to lift me up. I gladly obliged but shit, my butt really hurts. I forced a smile as I tried to hide my winces from the pain.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, hands still on my forearm and looking at my face. I felt bashful from his gesture. I realized that a BTS member just helped me up. His skin is so smooth that it looked like ceramic, and such adorable cheeks that I just want to pinch.

“Thank you so much.” I bowed as I respectfully removed my hand from Jimin. I could still feel Yoongi staring while my head was down.

“Are you… an employee here?” Yoongi asked with a tone different from how he spoke to me this morning just outside the building. I stood up straight and saw Jimin with a bright smile, also waiting for my response. He placed his arm on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“I’m new here, just today actually.” My eyes were glued to both of them, realizing that I was in front of two BTS members. An opportunity beyond my wildest dreams. I’m actually conversing with them and not just me talking into thin air to their posters and cut-outs. “Backup dancer.” Jimin’s face lit up with a grin split across his face.

“I didn’t know the evaluation will be today.” Jimin removed his arm from Yoongi and bowed down. “Looking forward to working with you.” I was surprised with Jimin’s enthusiasm. I bowed back a second after him. Standing up straight, I looked at Yoongi. He looked like he wants to say something, with his mouth slightly open.

“It’s such an honor to meet you both but I’m sorry, I really need to use the restroom.” I excused myself quickly to the restroom. I rushed inside and closed the door.

Jimin placed his arm back on Yoongi’s shoulder and they both walked back to the practice room where the other members are. “Feels like I want to watch the evaluation. Do you want to join me?”

“I still have to finish up my demo in the studio. Why not ask Hobi?”

“That’s a good idea actually.” Jimin giggled at the excitement. There’s also a thought inside his mind why he felt slight familiarity when he saw your face. He doesn’t recall where he saw you or if you have worked together before. He let the thought occupy him for a few moments before pushing it aside as he goes inside the practice room.

“Hey Jimin, look at this!” Taehyung beckoned Jimin to see the video playing on his mobile. J-hope was reaching for a cup of water from the dispenser at the side of the room while chatting with RM, who was trying to catch his breath. Jin and Jungkook were going through some of the steps in front of the mirror.

“Hobi-hyung. Today’s the evaluation for the new female backup dancers.” Jimin called as he was walking to Taehyung. Hobi was alerted to Jimin’s call. “Want to watch?”

“I’m sure our presence won’t help with the nerves of the dancers. Better to watch next time.” Hobi finished his cup of water and brushed his fingers through his hair as he discarded the cup. Jimin was intrigued once more by the thought of the familiarity from your face. He couldn’t put his finger where he saw you. He was sure that he must have at least saw your face once or twice.

“Hey, look at this.” Taehyung pouted and pulled on Jimin’s shirt to ask him to join him on the floor. Jimin followed.

…..

While I was waiting for my turn for the evaluation, my encounter with Jimin and Yoongi kept repeating in my mind. I get to meet BTS members twice in one day. Too bad that it both started with me slumped on the floor. Jimin’s ethereal blonde hair with his adorable grin and Yoongi with his cool demeanor. I never thought I’ll get to meet them on my first day here.

“Next, Y/N” Interrupting my daydream, I heard the female dance director call my name. I stood off the floor and walked to the middle of the room, facing the dance directors. The other dancers, who finished their evaluations, were silently cheering for me at the back. “We’ll let you dance to a hip-hop piece and an additional dance piece afterwards.” I curled my hand at my side and waited for the song to start. I could feel the stares of the dance directors, anticipating me to start as well.

The first beat started to blast across the room and I felt a smirk plastered across my face. I’m sure the dance directors saw it as well. I recognized the song and let the beat take over my body. I could feel my hair whipping around as I pop my body to each beat. I recall the times when I would enjoy dancing to random songs late at night with my fellow dance teachers at the dance studio. Dancing like this, I really felt like I’m in my own world. With every slow beat, I could feel my body rolling and with every strong beat, I let myself pop.

The song lasted a minute before the dance director asked to stop it. The other dancers were clapping their hands so loud that I was broken from my euphoria from dancing. I could feel that my cheeks were burning from their enthusiasm. I went back to my shy posture with both hands at my side, trying my best to catch my breath. I could see smiles from the dance directors as they exchanged words and looked at my folder. My eyes roamed the room when something caught my attention. Someone was watching from the door, both arms across his chest and with a grin that felt like sunshine.

“Hoseok? Are you here to watch?” One of the dance directors noticed J-hope standing at the door. Semi-silent gasps were heard from the other dancers as they take in the presence of the BTS member. J-hope just smiled with his cheeks high up while he walks towards the dance directors’ table. Jimin popped in soon after, skipping towards J-hope.

“We just finished our practice. Jimin thought it would be nice to pop in. Is it okay to observe for a while?” Hoseok pulled out a chair for him and Jimin. They both sat down and looked ahead. I froze in place. I can’t feel my hands. My gaze went to the other female dancers and I could see that they were really trying hard to hide their amazement that Jimin and J-hope appeared before us. I looked back to J-hope and Jimin. Usually, I would scream and jump from where I’m standing. I would cheer their names and maybe even take out a banner, but not today. I am standing in front of them, waiting for my turn to dance to whatever song the dance directors chose next. I cannot control my nerves as of the moment. It’s taking over me, hindering all movements I thought of. I can’t feel my fingers. This is it, this is the end of this chance. I won’t be hired as a backup dancer if I can’t move and handle this pressure. I thought all of this nonstop.

“Y/N, you may start.” I heard the female dance director and it horrified me as I begin to hear the music. Looks like the music has already started for some time now. The faces of the other dancers were of worry and confusion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This is my only chance. I should redeem myself. As I absorb the music, I was met by familiarity and bliss. I had already performed this song as a modern dance piece when I was a student along with my fellow students in the dance department.

Slowly, I let the music take over my body from my core until the tips of my fingers. Like a graceful swan, I flew across the room. I slid on the floor and stood up with an elegant smooth body roll. Jumps that took no effort and landing so sophisticated that it almost didn’t make any sound. I was eager to get this job and I gave everything. The room felt blacked out with just myself in the middle of it, being in the bright spotlight. The moment the song stopped, reality swiftly hit me. I was back in the practice room being evaluated by dance directors, observed by two BTS members and cheered on by other enthusiastic and supportive dancers.

Being the shy duckling I am, I stood straight like a soldier with both hands at the side. All the dance directors were still staring at me and both J-hope and Jimin were nodding in approval. Despite my horrible start, I’m so glad I redeemed myself. I could explode right now from the amount of emotions flooding through me. Now that I’ve finished the evaluation, I found myself staring at the two BTS members. Jimin with his dark grey loose shirt, black FILA track pants, Balenciaga bag swung across his chest, and cool dangling earpieces. J-hope in a peach flowy long-sleeve top with a green vest, brown baseball cap loosely hanging on top his head and brown shorts that shows his toned legs. They were both conversing when I felt Jimin’s long stares directed at me. He looks slightly intrigued but nevertheless, stares from this man could kill. I felt flushed and let my eyes wander elsewhere.

“Thank you Y/N. Next please.” I bowed and rushed towards the back of the room, joining the other dancers. I was met by praises from the other dancers. My heart felt warm from all the affirmation the others were giving me but I was still bothered by the stares from Jimin. I looked at him once more and he’s still staring at me. He studied my face and smiled when he saw me getting shy from his stares. I turned my head away and looked in front towards the next dancer.

Both of them stayed for a while before excusing themselves out of the room. Some of the dancers were whispering that they’re sad that two of the boys are now not in our presence. I admit that I’m a bit sad too but I can finally breath and relax. Despite being so nervous with them present during my evaluation, I was elated that they were here inside the room as me. I’m lying if I say that my heart wasn’t pounding furiously. I’m just trying to be professional here but I’m still a big fangirl at heart.

…..

“Are you okay? You’ve been too occupied by your thoughts since a while ago.” Hoseok asked Jimin as he sips from his juice. Jungkook and Taehyung who were sitting across the two boys, eating their post-practice snack, were intrigued by J-hope’s question. They noticed Jimin was staring away with his brows furrowed.

“I really think that I saw that backup dancer somewhere but I can’t put my finger on it. Her face looks too familiar.” Jimin sipped his juice through a straw.

“Which backup dancer? The first one?” Hoseok studied Jimin’s face. Jimin nods. “I haven’t seen someone dance like that in a long time. Her passion just captivates you and pulls you in. I can’t wait to work with her and all the other dancers.” Hoseok beamed with hope as he recalls your evaluation performance.

“Also, the modern dance piece that she did felt familiar as well. I could actually feel my body dancing with her but I couldn’t remember where or when I danced to that song.” Jimin admitted.

“Did you watch the whole evaluation?” Jungkook asked the two. Taehyung kept on scrolling through his social media.

“We only watched a few but they were good.” Jimin replied, getting a smile from Hoseok.

“Yeah, especially the one you’re trying so hard to remember. You were staring at her, did you know that? It’s a shocker that she did not melt from your stares.” Jimin turned to Hoseok, surprised by his hyung’s revelation.

“Really? Oh no hyung, I’m too embarrassed by myself. I really didn’t know.” Jimin covered his face with both his hands.

“What made you embarrassed?” Yoongi comes up behind them with an Iced Americano cupped in his hands.

“You remember the girl that bumped into you when went to the restroom? Hobi-hyung and I saw her evaluation and I didn’t realize that I was staring at her the whole time. He just pointed this out to me now.” Jimin, still with a hand covering half his face. “Hobi-hyung, you should’ve told me to stop or something. That’s too embarrassing.”

Yoongi sat down on a vacant chair beside Taehyung. “Actually, I need to apologize to her as well.” The four boys turned their heads to Yoongi looking all confused. Taehyung was about to ask him for the reason but he was soon cut off by Jimin.

“Was it because she bumped into you outside the restroom? And you didn’t help her up?” Yoongi’s face became a bit darker, frowning.

“We already bumped into each other the first time this morning. I was so pissed off about something that I just ignored her and walked away. The second time was with you, Jimin.” Yoongi sipped his coffee once more, contemplating on his actions. He admits that despite being so pissed at something, he should’ve at least shown decency and helped you up. Now that he knows he’s probably going to see you around and work with you, he felt awkward thinking back on how disrespectful he was towards you.

“Wow. You’ve met this woman today and she’s already bumped into you twice, Suga-hyung. She also made Jimin-hyung bothered and Hobi-hyung eager to work with her after seeing her dance. Now I’m interested in meeting her.” Jungkook jokingly teased his elder members as he chows down his sandwich.

…..

After the evaluation, we were told that they will be contacting us again after a few days and if deemed unworthy by the other dance directors from their opinions on our evaluation, we will be informed if we passed or not. Apparently, our positions on the dance team is not final. I still have to wait for a few days to know my fate. All the dance directors walked out the room and all of the other dancers started packing up their stuff. Some of them walked up to me and praised me for my performance. They also teased me that they were afraid that I was so caught up with my nerves when the two BTS members walked in during my evaluation. They said that if it was them, they would be so nervous as well and commended me for still giving a wonderful performance despite my obvious stumble when the music started.

One by one, the dancers head home. I glanced at my watch and was surprised with how fast time flies. It’s already 4 in the afternoon. I phoned my brother to check on him.

“You done with work? We just finished and everyone went home. Can we eat out? I need some company, I feel so drained. My treat.” I stayed in front of the door out the practice room as I swiftly typed in my message.

Thinking back, I haven’t had the time to process what a whirlwind this day was. It started on a bad first meeting with Suga (which was definitely my fault), a surprise evaluation from the dance team, bumping into Suga again (still my fault. By the way, I really need to be careful from now on) and meeting Jimin in the most unappealing places ever, impressed the dance directors but absolutely botched the second dance when Jimin and J-hope came in to watch, and finally, I’m still not sure if I’ll get this job or not because I still have to wait for their mail. I’m so proud of myself that I’m still standing up straight. Thinking about it just makes my knees buckle. I can barely hold myself straight due to my nerves before when I try to dance in front of other people or even when I met BTS once at a fan meet. I should give myself a pat on the back. Yup, I deserve that for getting out of my comfort zone and not making myself look like an idiot in front of everyone.

“Your treat? I’m about to finish. Wait for me.” My brother replied. I laughed so hard. Bribing each other with food is truly our signature move. Not that I’m complaining but you can never say no to free food.

“Korean Barbeque it is.”

Next part: 3

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bluebellwriting · 3 years

Text

Love Me Tender part 1

An Alastor x Chubby!Reader in which you are Angel Dust’s older sister

You were in the middle of baking a cake when your little brother and the two girls dead-set on helping him walked into the hotel. It was supposed to be a celebratory-post-interview cake/congratulations-on-Angel-being-clean-for-two-days cake, but after you heard the interview from the little radio you had set up in the kitchen, it was now a condolences cake. Also Angel was no longer receiving any cake, which would probably be the only thing to motivate him to stay clean for a few days.

You love your little brother with all your heart, as you do with all of your siblings, but you had to all but force him to come to this hotel because you were sick of watching him kill himself for shits and giggles... well, not “kill” himself, but you get it. And he just wasn’t taking this seriously. It’s not like you wanted him redeemed, even if you did believe in it. The best part about being in Hell was that you were finally reunited with your siblings and dad. But if these girls could at least get him to stop putting himself in precarious situations and therefore cause you a little less grief, you would be eternally grateful. So you stayed at the hotel with him, just to keep him in check and also to take break from the drama that was Hell’s respective mafias. Charlie had also begged you to stay because you were an excellent cook and baker from years of making meals for your hopeless siblings.

You poke your head out of the kitchen door to see Charlie sulking and Vaggie scolding your brother. Sighing, you return to your cake, deciding to have a little chat with Angel afterwards. You couldn’t handle any arguing right now. You had just had a rather annoying conversation with your other brother regarding Angel’s progress, how you should give up on him and just come back to work with him and your dad:

“He’s a lost cause, (Y/N),” Arackniss had groaned.

“He’s our baby brother, you prick. Besides, I’m getting a little sick of mob-business. I need a break.”

“Dad’s not gonna like that. You’re his favorite.”

“Just tell dad I say hi and that I’ll see him for family dinner.” You slammed the phone down.

So yeah, you really just wanted to shove your face in the bitter dark chocolate confection as soon as possible. Now that they were all home and somewhat safe, you took this moment to turn the volume up on your radio, letting some Ella Fitzgerald and Doris Day drown out the arguments. You also apparently drowned out the arrival of a red-clad overlord.

“So tell me, what do you have here in way of a staff?” Alastor scans the lobby of the hotel, quite unimpressed with the choice in decor and the dust. Honestly, there was dust everywhere, it was disgusting.

“Well...” Charlie motions towards the glowering moth demon and he shakes his head. How did the young princess expect to get this place off the ground with a less than welcoming manager and a debauched patron? Speaking of...

Alastor makes his way over to the lounging spider and gives him a curious smile.

“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick.” Oh dear Lord, who raised this creature? It takes everything within Alastor not to cringe and to keep his smile up.

“Ha! No.” Angel shrugs then points a finger towards the closed kitchen door.

“There’s also my sister.” Alastor’s ears perk up and he strolls over to the door. As he nears, his sensitive ears pick up the sound of Ella Fistgerald, the distinct sound of radio static, and another feminine voice singing quietly along. Alastor’s grin widens as he slowly opens the door so as not to make a sound. Revealing you, an incredibly small and ample young lady making frosting. He leans against the doorframe, watching your fluffy (h/c) hair bounce around and your ample hips swaying to the melody of “Dream A Little Dream of Me,” a song from before his time but not too much later. He takes a whiff and smells the familiar bitterness of dark chocolate, the only sweet thing he can remotely bear. Well, this establishment is just full of surprises, isn’t it?

He’s not quite sure how much time passes, in all honesty he’s perfectly content watching you shimmy your way around the kitchen, which is strange for him. He can count on one hand the number of people he enjoys spending more than ten minutes with. Well, maybe he’ll just have to add you to the list, if your taste in music is anything to go by at least.

“Hey sis! Ya got a secret admirer!” The shrill voice of Angel rings in his ears and causes you to whip around and brace yourself against the counter. You wrap both sets of arms around yourself like a shield and frown at him briefly. Alastor freezes at the hard glare, even if it’s only on your face for an instant before it softens to a confused stare.

You recognized the Radio Demon immediately because, unlike your brother you actually kept up with politics. You made it your business to know who was worth knowing and who was dangerous enough to avoid, and thankfully up until this point you were able to avoid his path of carnage. But the man before you isn’t smiling wickedly like you had always imagined. There isn’t blood in his teeth nor is he invading your space with the intention to strike. No, this man is just standing idly in the doorway with a wide, friendly smile. And he’s tall, like really tall. And way too thin. Goodness, when was the last time he ate?

“Um... hello,” you say quietly, still keeping your arms around you, a habit when you’re around strange men. He lurches forward and you flinch, not just because you’re scared of him specifically (you are a bit though), but because you have a... complicated history with men rushing you.

He leans down slightly but makes sure to tower over you still, and grabs one of your hands before you even know what’s going on.

“Alastor, darling. A pleasure.” His voice is oozing static and glee, but he’s not as loud as you thought he would be. He leans down and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman, something you haven’t experienced since you were a young girl.

“And who might you be, darling?” You catch your brother passing by the doorway, snickering at you and you realize that he still hasn’t released your hand. You tug it away from him and give him a polite but small smile.

“(Y/N). Very nice to meet you, sir.”

“Sir! Why I haven’t been called that since, well, since the last time I had a wretched soul cowering before me!” He laughs hysterically and you shiver at the thought.

The smell of cooked chocolate invades your nostrils, and you briefly wonder if saving your cake is worth turning your back to this man. He seems to decide for you.

“Why that smells delicious, dearie.” He strolls over to the oven in only two steps and plucks your cakes out of the oven with a bare hand. You gawk at him, because he seems completely unbothered by the scorching metal in his hands. He crosses the kitchen back to you and places the pans down on the counter, flashing you a proud smile like he’s showing off.

“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of sweets, though. But this smells so good, I’ll just have to try.” He goes to snag some of the cake from a pan and your older-sister instincts take over before you can even stop yourself. You smack his hand. You smack the Radio Demon’s hand. His neck snaps towards you at a painful angle at an inhuman speed. His eyes turn into radio dials and his smile is just vicious. But you don’t seem to care in this moment and just shoot him a stern glare.

“You can’t have any yet. It’s hot and I still need to frost it. You can have some when it’s ready with everyone else,” you tell him simply and bump his rigid body to the side with your hip to begin frosting.

Alastor is stunned. Because he hates being touched when he doesn’t expect it or initiate it. Because years of being an overlord means that you have to keep your guard up for any sort of attack but he doesn’t seem to mind when it comes from you. Because you weren’t actually attacking him you were just... protecting your cake? Because you didn’t seem to really care who he was in that moment and he kind of liked that, that you weren’t afraid to defend what was yours, even if it was a cake. Because you weren’t just a shy little spider anymore. You were spunky.

He wills his eyes to return to normal and smirks at you. He reaches on long arm over your shoulder and attempts to steal some frosting but one of your arms smacks his hand away again. He continues, his attempted assault on your cake and each time one of your arms smacks him away while the others focus on frosting the cake expertly. You’re quite annoyed by his mocking. Alastor is the most entertained he’s been in years. He loves the way your eyebrows crease together as you concentrate on piping, and the wrinkling of your nose when he gets too close to ruining said piping.

When you’re finally done you whip around and glare at him.

“Are you done?” you ask. He just gives you an innocent smile in return and shrugs his shoulders. You roll your eyes and push past him to carry the cake out into the lobby for everyone to enjoy. He stays in the kitchen a moment longer, watching you march away and taking in the tingling felt on the spot where your small form brushed against him. He’s shocked, completely and utterly shocked at how much he wants to hold on to that tingling feeling.

The radio continues to play as the song finishes

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Alastor decided then and there that he was going to make it his mission to get you more comfortable around him, if it meant he’d get to see more of the spirited young lady with excellent music taste.

Dream a little dream of me

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #x chubby reader #x chubby!reader #they say write the stories you want to see

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floralguccistyles · 3 years

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prologue: soupe à l’oignon

Michel’s soupe a l’oignon was burning.

Michel had also been through a terrible breakup the night before in which he had found his boyfriend of almost seven years in bed with their personal trainer. Then Michel’s boyfriend had announced that he and this personal trainer were actually married, per a terrible ceremony in Las Vegas when they were both drunk. Therefore, Michel was technically the other man. Michel had never been the other man before. He was obviously having a rough time.

But the fucking soup was burning.

“Michel! The soup!” Italia shouted before the scent could officially assault all of my senses. The second the words left her mouth, however, I could smell it. The onions were burning to a crisp. There would be no saving them, of this I knew.

“Shit!” Michel yelled, immediately turning off the heat of the stove. He went to go grab the saucepan and the hurried “no!” didn’t leave my mouth fast enough as he gripped the cast iron handle with his bare hand for approximately three seconds before he yelped and dropped it back down on the stove top with a slamming sound. “Shit, shit shit!” he repeated, clutching his wrist with his other hand.

“Let me see,” I demanded, moving away from my own meal (which would be fine and not on the verge of burning for at least another five minutes) and towards Michel. He held out his hand to me with tears in his eyes and I honestly felt bad for the guy.

I just also felt really, really bad for the customer who was waiting for their soup.

“Go run it under cool water. Cool, Michel, not cold. Ice-cold will damage the tissue even more. Then get a rag wet and hold it over. You can just go ahead and take your fifteen.”

“My soup—”

“Italia and I will handle it,” I interrupted. The more time we wasted standing here arguing was time that could have been spent trying to salvage the soup. It didn’t help that we were already down a chef, since Frederick’s wife was giving birth, but we would make do. Italia and I always did.

“Thanks, Dom. I’ll be in the lounge.”

Lounge was a loose term. It was a tiny little room in the back that looked dingy and unkempt. Still, it was enough to pass health inspections. Only about two people could fit back there at a time, which was why I usually just sat in my car for my breaks.

“Sounds good, Michel.” My eyes locked with Italia, who was already working on melting the butter and oil for Michel’s soup in a new saucepan. Isobel, one of our dishwashers, had already grabbed the pan Michel had ruined and was scrubbing it clean with her thick rubber gloves on her hands. At least I knew she wasn’t going to be burned.

When Michel turned to go into the lounge, I grabbed an onion and automatically began chopping it. “Sorry, Italia,” I muttered under my breath, knowing she could hear me just fine. We had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.

“It’s fine. Tell Louis to offer them a dessert on the house because this soup is going to take at least another fifteen.”

I wanted to slam my head against the counter. Or better yet, use the pan Isobel was now putting on the drying rack to hit over my head. “Fuck. Alright.”

Finding Louis was easy enough. He was making his rounds in the front of the restaurant, his pleasant attitude most likely earning him more than average tips. The kind of people who came to Lesauvage were wealthy enough to tip generously. Sometimes they didn’t, but for the most part, Louis wouldn’t be starving anytime soon. “Louis!” I hissed under my breath when he passed by the kitchen doors, cups in hands to refill. He jumped comically.

“Christ, Dom, you scared me,” he replied in a quiet voice, not wanting any of the customers to hear. “What?”

“Tell table eleven there was a complication with their soup and dessert is on the house.”

“What the fuck happened to their soup?”

I raised a brow. “Michel made it.”

Michel’s boyfriend drama had already made it around the restaurant. Twice. Chefs were a nosy bunch. Louis nodded in understanding and filled up a cup with iced tea as he looked towards where I assumed table eleven was. I actually hadn’t ever really paid attention to the front setup of Lesauvage because I had always entered through the back door.

“Fine. But I’m recommending the chocolate mousse because you’re here and you make it the best.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere,” I replied with a wink.

He grinned. “Got me into your bed, didn’t it?”

Louis and I had a fling when I had started working at Lesauvage. I was fresh out of culinary school, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and he was the experienced waiter who comforted me in the lounge my first day when my boss had completely ripped me a new one. He was the unattainable, three-years-older coworker who I was moon-eyed over for at least five months before we actually slept together. And once we had, it was like some switch had been flipped inside my body and he was suddenly nothing but a friend.

Thank the fucking lord he felt the same way.

“You’re damn right it did. Now go make me proud, Tomlinson.”

When I hastily returned to the kitchen, Italia was already ten times ahead where Michel had been with the soup. I sent her a thankful look and grabbed the beef stock, passing it her way as I grabbed a knife and began chopping the green onions for my own dish.

As much as I complained about the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, I secretly thrived in it. It was what I had missed when I had been in culinary school. So many of my classmates cooked their meals silently. When I cooked at home, I blasted music and sang loudly and off-key to myself. At work, I had the conversation of other people. I liked learning about Italia’s kids and Isobel’s ex-boyfriend who kept trying to call her. I even liked Michel, even though right now he wasn’t my favorite person in the world.

School had been lonely. At least here I felt like I belonged.

“They’re good for the chocolate mousse!” Louis shouted over the sound of Isobel doing the dishes and Italia chopping more vegetables.

“You’re a saint, Tomlinson!” I replied, dropping the spices needed onto Italia’s cutting board. She slid them into the soup with her knife and the skill of a seasoned Lesauvage veteran.

The chocolate mousse was luckily already in the fridge cooling from my prep this morning, so I didn’t have to worry about making it at that exact moment. I did finish the salad I was working on and passed it off to Sydney, who was another runner. She grabbed the plate and sped off to table seven.

The time went by quickly when I was in the kitchen. My thoughts could roam because the movements of cooking were muscle memory at this point. When I had first been hired, I had been terrified to mess anything up. The first time I had pulled a Michel, I had cried. My boss had yelled at me pretty badly, but had brought me into his office afterwards to apologize and assure me that I was doing a great job. Now, it felt like second nature to pour the green onions into the butter garlic sauce that was sautéing. And when Italia handed me the soup that she had completed, I sent her a grateful look and wasted no time in handing it off to Louis. We worked as a team here.

I thrived on that.

“Get those chocolate mousses out and ready,” I told Michel when he came back from his break. His hand didn’t look too worse for wear, but he looked decently embarrassed. I knew, at least for tonight, there would be no more mistakes.

“I’m really sorry, Dom,” he said softly, preparing for my anger.

“It’s fine, Michel. Just work on desserts for now, okay? But this is the comp dessert for table eleven, so try to pay attention, yeah?”

He hung his head, but nodded and went to go prep the mousse. It wasn’t that Michel wasn’t talented. He wouldn’t have been hired if he hadn’t been a great chef. But the boyfriend thing was really getting to him. I hoped he had at least the next two days off to recoup.

“Dom,” I heard Louis say about thirty minutes later as he walked through the kitchen door. He had the empty plates from table eleven in his hand and handed them off to Isobel. “They’re ready for the dessert.” He eyed me questionably when Michel handed them off to me, as if it was wrong that I had let Michel touch them after his little mishap but I had faith in the chefs. “These better be good,” Louis said in a warning tone.

“I made them, Tomlinson, of course they’re good,” I snapped, clicking my tongue in annoyance. It was a bad habit I had done when I was a kid and never seemed to shake it.

He shrugged, taking the completed desserts and walking back out to the restaurant. “They looked great, Michel!” I encouraged, turning to continue chopping the beef I had been working on before Louis had come in.

When I cooked, time passed by without my notice. What felt like two minutes later but was really thirty, Louis walked back into the kitchen with a solemn look on his face. “They want to see the chef.”

“Who?”

“Table eleven.”

Shit. “You said they were fine with the soup, yeah?” Louis nodded, which meant the problem was with the chocolate mousse. And since Michel had done nothing but added the whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top, if they had a real problem with the mousse, it was on me. “Fuck. Alright. Italia, can you finish this dish for me really quick?”

Italia nodded, looking up from the celery she was chopping to examine the chicken I was seasoning to see how much she would need to do to complete it. Nervously wiping my hands on my apron after I washed them quickly, I tried to make myself look a little more presentable. It was rare that chefs were invited to the front of the restaurant, so we were usually unkempt and had food on our clothes. It didn’t matter to me what I looked like as long as the food was good, but I knew it was a shock to the high-end patrons of the restaurant.

Louis led me over to table eleven, where three people were sitting. There were two men and one gorgeous woman that looked like she could model for a living. She was happily chatting and holding hands with one of the men, excitedly waving around her free hand. He looked engrossed in her story, nodding and smiling and staring at her like she was the best thing in the world. Their companion was simply taking sips of his wine (a wonderful red that went really well with the chocolate mousse and I thanked Louis for obviously recommending it to them) and pursing his lips in response to whatever the woman was saying.

She stopped talking when she noticed Louis and sent a blinding smile at us. “This is the chef, I presume?”

��Dominique Blanchard,” I said, holding out my hand for her to shake. I was thankful I had run my hands under some soap and water. We weren’t allowed to have our nails painted in case some of the varnish fell off into the food, but her fingers were perfectly manicured and painted a vibrant blue. “I’m sorry again about the soup. We had an incident in the kitchen.”

She waved it off. “The soup was fine. That chocolate mousse, however? It was to die for!”

I felt my shoulders deflate. I had been so worried that they were upset with their experience or food that I hadn’t even thought they had wanted to chat because they enjoyed their meal. “Thank you. It’s a Lesauvage specialty.”

“Dominique makes it the best,” Louis supplied helpfully from behind me. I grinned nervously.

“We all loved it,” the man holding her hand spoke, and I was surprised to hear an Irish accent. “It was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” And I was glad it took the attention off the fact that their soup was late. The other man stayed quiet, simply ignoring the conversation as he sipped at his wine again.

“I have the weirdest proposition for you. Please feel free to say no if you don’t want to, but I would kick myself if I didn’t ask.”

My eyes strayed back to the woman, who was talking to me politely.

“I’m two months pregnant,” she said happily, her hand going to her stomach like most pregnant women did when their pregnancy was announced, “and I’m so incredibly exhausted nowadays. I can barely muster up enough energy to come out to dinner, let alone make myself toast in the morning. And your chocolate mousse was the only thing I’ve been able to keep down for more than thirty minutes. I was wondering if you’d ever consider being a personal chef?”

Chefs at Lesauvage being asked to become personal chefs for celebrities or rich individuals wasn’t as uncommon as one would think. The chef I had replaced had left to become a personal chef for some actress who split her time between London and Los Angeles. As far as I knew, he simply travelled with her. But it was the first time the suggestion had ever been brought up to me, the first time that someone had liked my food that much.

Which was why my mouth comically fell open.

“I could pay you plenty!” she said, which led me to believe she was well-off. Well, that and the fact that she was eating at Lesauvage, which wasn’t exactly known for their cheap meal choices. “I just...I’m so tired all the time. The doctor said it was normal, but I don’t even want to get up out of bed sometimes. And I’m only two months along! I can’t imagine trying to cook myself meals when I’m eight months. You’d cook some things for Niall and Harry too, of course.” She gestured to the two males sitting with her.

“This is...I’m sorry, this is just incredibly unexpected,” I managed to stutter out.

“Of course, I’m so sorry I’m just flinging this on you. How about I give you my number and I’ll get back to you in about a week or so? Will that give you enough time to think it over?”

“Yes, of course.” Taking her number wouldn’t hurt, I told myself. She had a little card in her wallet with her information on it, and I saw that she actually was a model.

“I’ll be in touch soon. Thank you so much, Dominique. I’ll probably be dreaming about that chocolate mousse for the next six months.”

I was able to laugh at her joke even though it still felt like someone had shaken me into a concussion. I exchanged goodbyes with the three of them as they left the restaurant, leaving a more than generous tip for Louis.

“Well that was nice of them,” Louis said, clapping me on my shoulder. “Think about it, yeah? It’s not the worst idea in the world.”

It wasn’t. But I couldn’t think about the proposition until my shift was done tonight.

Welcome to the world of Mise en Place! I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter and are as excited to read this fic as I am to share it!

#1dff #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #mep

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trulivin · 4 years

Text

Family Troubles

A/N: Here’s another one finally! (I finished it last night and thought I would be really busy today, BUT I’m free now so I thought it would be good to post it!) To the nonny who requested, I hope this is what you were looking for! Honestly, I don’t know how I feel about this. I’m not saying it’s bad, but I just, I don’t know. I say that about everything I write don’t I lmao. I don’t know if I built their relationship good enough. Please send feedback, comment, like, etc. I do hope you enjoy though! I love writing! It’s so fun! Thanks for the request!

ALSO, this contains another sensitive topic. Mental abuse is real! I’ve experienced it. If you ever find yourself being manipulated by someone that causes you to doubt yourself or anything of that nature, speak up! Mental health is just as important as physical health! Reach out and get the help you deserve because no one deserves to be manipulated into thinking you are worthless! All love!

John B x Reader, Outer Banks

Warnings: Mental Abuse

*This isn’t my gif. Credit goes to original owner*

The Pogues. A term Y/N found dear to her heart. Her best friends. Her biggest supporters. The family she was always looking for. Whenever she was with them, all of her troubles seemed to fade away. They could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.

And then there was John B. The best type of friend a girl could ask for. Y/N had known him longer than the two had known JJ. Her father and John B’s, before he went missing, were the best of friends automatically making their children become friends. Y/N had spent every waking moment with John B since she could remember.

As the two got older, there was a point when John B became more than a brother to Y/N. And at some point, John B realized Y/N was a pretty girl. But, as their group went from two to five, a certain rule popped up: no-Pogue-on-Pogue macking.

Y/N never really minded it. She was still one hundred percent convinced John B still saw her as his sister, and she refused to ruin their lifelong friendship over some silly crush.

Kie, JJ, and Pope saw right through the girl, on the other hand. They honestly didn’t care if Y/N and John B got together. It would even be a relief to them so they wouldn’t have to put up with the constant longing looks from the pair. Not to mention the subconscious touchy shit that makes JJ gag.

JJ would constantly bring it up to John B too. Yet, he would, as JJ would say, deny, deny, deny.

But, regardless of John B and Y/N’s feelings for one another, the Pogues were always having a good time.

Except when Y/N had to go home and face her real family.

She never knew why she went back. John B was living without his father and seemed to avoid DCS fairly well. Why couldn’t she?

Yet somehow, she’d always wind up back in her tiny house on the Cut.

It wasn’t that her home situation was horrible. It just wasn’t great either. After John B’s dad disappeared, Y/N’s father left her and her mother to fend for themselves. For awhile, Y/N and her mom wouldn’t even speak to each other. Y/N never knew why they didn’t speak, but then a week later, a stranger was caught leaving her house in the morning. After that, Y/N’s mother had finally started speaking to her again as more and more men would be caught leaving the house in the morning.

Sadly, Y/N’s mother had changed. She would lash out at Y/N, telling her how useless she was and how Y/N should be helping her poor mom make money so they could eat. Y/N would take in every word her mom would say and try to explain she was doing little things to help out. The jobs were sporadic but it was something.

Their arguments would usually result in Y/N storming out of the house, but then getting a call about thirty minutes later from her mom, saying how sorry she was for saying all those things. She’d go on and on about how Y/N was such a great daughter and how she loved her so much.

So, Y/N would always come home with the slightest hope that her mother was alright and meant what she said. But, the same thing would happen a few days later, and Y/N would find herself in tears as her mother screamed at her for being incompetent like her father.

John B had a faint idea that home life for Y/N wasn’t very good. He could read her like a book after all. He could tell something had happened when the crew would be hanging out and Y/N was oddly quiet, but whenever he asked, she would just brush it off. Even Kie, JJ, and Pope could tell when something was wrong, but instead of pushing her, they left Y/N alone. John B, however, thought she shouldn’t be left alone and felt as if she was battling with something mentally.

His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the little jabs her mother would give towards her daughter that Y/N didn’t even seem to notice.

John B had swung by Y/N’s place to pick her up on the way to one of Kie’s family Kook events. While he was following Y/N around her room getting her stuff together, her mom had come in. “Where is it you’re going this time?” Y/M/N asked. “An outdoor movie thing that Kie invited us to,” Y/N replied, shoving stuff in her bag.

“Total Kook stuff, Ms. Y/L/N,” John B added with a small smile. The woman just narrowed her eyes. John B dropped his gaze, slightly confused as to why Y/N’s mother was acting so weird. She had always been so kind and welcoming.

“When will you be home?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Mom. Late,” Y/N answered with an irritated ring.

Y/N’s mother scoffed, “Just like usual. While I’m stuck at home slaving away.”

John B saw Y/N roll her eyes before standing up straight and facing her mom. “What do you want me to say?” Y/N snapped. “That I should stay here and find someone else who will pay for sex?”

John B’s gaze shot to Y/N’s at her statement. He didn’t have the slightest idea as to what was going on.

“Save it, Y/N. I don’t want to hear it. Just go out with your stupid friends. They’re just as useless as you are,” her mother retorted. John B refused to look up at the arguing mother and daughter.

“Are you kidding me? You’ve known John B for his entire life. You, and I quote, ‘absolutely adore that kid’, and you’re going to act like you hate him!”

Y/N’s mother glared at her child and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Let’s go,” she said, grabbing John B’s hand and shoving past the woman blocking the door. John B heard Y/N’s mother let out a breath and follow them down the hall. Y/N marched straight to the van with John B trailing after her, still shocked at the scene that had just unfolded before his eyes.

As they were about to drive off, Y/N’s mother came outside and called in a kind voice, “Be safe, Y/N! I’m sorry!” John B noticed Y/N’s face contort in pain before she shot her mother a small smile.

As if a switch flipped on in John B’s head, he realized what was happening. And he didn’t like it one bit.

“So,” he started slowly and felt Y/N’s gaze on him, “You’re seriously not mad at her anymore?” “What?” Y/N asked. “Who says I was mad?”

John B really couldn’t really believe what he was hearing.

“You were just arguing with your mom,” John B replied.

“Oh, that. That wasn’t arguing. Just a normal day in the Y/L/N household,” Y/N let out a strained laugh. John B looked at the girl with concern swimming in his eyes. “Y/N,” he said softly, “Does your mom do this a lot?”

“What call me useless, incompetent, stupid, but then says she loves me? I mean I suppose,” she mumbled. John B’s jaw clenched. “That’s not right,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road. “She still loves me,” Y/N said defensively.

“She says she does, but--” John B started but was cut off.

“Just drop it okay?” Y/N snapped, “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

John B glanced at Y/N and saw her looking out the window, signalling that this conversation was over. He didn’t like it, but he kept his mouth shut anyways.

Ever since that day, John B tried talking to his best friend and show her how abusive her mother really was. But, Y/N refused to listen to him. She didn’t want to hear it because she wanted to believe she still had her mom after her father left.

Until one day, Y/N finally heard all of John B’s concerns in her mind.

Y/N had just gotten back from a day out with the Pogues, and her mother had already brought a new guy home. The teenager walked in on her half naked mother and stranger on the couch. “Oh god!” Y/N shouted, covering her eyes.

“What the hell?” the guy shouted at her mom. “Who is this?”

Y/N’s mother glared at her daughter and gritted her teeth, “This is my daughter.”

“You never told me you had kids! Geeze how old are you?” the man said, shoving Y/M/N off of him and grabbing his clothes. “Wait, don’t!” Y/N’s mom called after the guy who was storming out.

Y/N still stood there in shock. She wasn’t prepared for the storm that was about to enter the home. As soon as her mother came back in, she started screaming.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Y/N’s mom shouted.

“I live here!” Y/N snapped back, her temper rising.

“You little brat! You are always coming around when you aren’t wanted!”

“Mom! How was I supposed to know you were having someone over?” Y/N said.

“Oh don’t play dumb,” her mother rolled her eyes, “You never approved of what I did. You’re just trying to sabotage me! All I’m doing is trying to help keep a roof of your head and food on the table! You don’t appreciate anything I do for you!”

Y/N was so confused. “You’re making no sense!” she screamed trying to hold back her tears of anger. “I appreciate everything you do! I was helping Heyward with grocery deliveries today! I was tipped big! I was trying to help!”

“You never do anything helpful! All you do is go out with your stupid little boyfriend and friends! You’re the most worthless person I have ever met!” her mom screamed.

With every insult she spat at her daughter, Y/N felt a knife twist in her heart, and John B’s words echo in her head. Your mom may not be physically abusing you but she still is abusing you. Y/N, you need to get out of there.

“God, you’re the worst daughter someone could have asked for! You worthless piece of shit! Are you listening to me?” Y/N’s mom screamed, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. Y/N shrunk back in fear. “I wish you were the one who left instead of your father,” Y/N’s mom hissed.

Y/N felt as though a boulder had crushed her heart. Tears flowed down her face as she shoved her mom off of her. Her mom’s face immediately fell as she realized what she said. “No, sweetie, I didn’t mean it,” her mom tried touching Y/N’s arm, but the girl jerked away.

Y/N had a look of horror written across her face. How could she do a complete 180? Y/N thought to herself.

“Y/N, baby. You know I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

“No you don’t,” Y/N cried, backing away from her mother. “You’re sick. I’m sorry your husband left you, but that’s no reason to take your pain out on your child. You’re supposed to protect me! I lost a father too! But you, you just act like a complete idiot!”

“No, sweetie--” Y/N’s mother started.

“I wish you were the one who left! Better you than Dad!”

And then Y/N ran.

She didn’t know where she’d go, but she knew she just needed to go anywhere but her home. Y/N let her legs carry her subconsciously and somehow wound up on the porch of the Chateau. Sobs racked her body as she collapsed on the ground.

John B opened the door expecting an animal or burglar but looked down to see a sobbing Y/N.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” John B said immediately, scoping her up in his arms, bringing her inside.

He went to set her down on the couch, but Y/N clung on to him and cried harder. John B sat down with her in his lap, a hand wrapped around her waist and head as he let her cry. John B knew what happened. He knew something like this was coming. Her mother must’ve said some awful thing and Y/N must’ve finally seen what was really going on.

“Shhh,” John B soothed as Y/N cried harder. “Whatever she said to you is a lie. You’re worth it. You’re worth something,” John B whispered in her ear. Y/N seemed to quiet a bit at the sound of his voice so John B continued.

“You’ve always been perfect, Y/N,” he said. John B didn’t really know where he was getting these words from. He never admitted his feelings for Y/N to JJ, but now, now he just knew he couldn’t deny it any longer. She needed to know that someone still loved her.

“You’re always putting everyone’s happiness first, so when she says you’re useless or incompetent, she’s wrong. You’re a selfless, beautiful girl.”

Y/N’s heart began pounding out of her chest as she listened to John B’s words.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” John B continued, “but she doesn’t love you. She’s not your family anymore. You have other people who love you. JJ, Kie, Pope. And me.” Y/N had stopped crying at this point. Does he mean it more than a friend?

“I,” John B hesitated, “I love you. And I think everyone has known that except you.”

John B fell silent after that, holding his breath. He had no idea what Y/N would do. Y/N slowly lifted her head off of his chest and looked up at him. John B’s eyes were full of concern, but a little apprehension. He was waiting for her to say something.

Instead, she leaned up, pressing her lips to his. John B instantly kissed her back. The kiss was sweet and slow. Y/N felt a warmth spread throughout her body as his grip tightened around her frame. She finally felt at home. Never in a million years did she think she would be kissing the boy who put sand in her hair as little kids.

When they broke apart, Y/N’s mouth quirked up, “I love you too, John Booker Rutledge.” John B grinned and pulled her back in for another kiss. She moaned quietly as he bit down on her lip causing his hands to grip her waist a little tighter. Soon enough, Y/N found herself straddling John B.

Her hands found the bottom of his t-shirt and began tugging at it. However, he quickly grabbed her wrists to stop her. “Wait, wait,” he said, pulling away. Y/N pouted a bit. “We aren’t doing this right now.” “Why not?” Y/N whined a bit.

“You just ran away from home,” John B replied.

“So?”

“Y/N,” he said with a stern voice, “You need to tell me what happened. Now is not the night for us to be ignoring this and you know it.”

Y/N contemplated his words for a moment, but reluctantly agreed. They resituated themselves to where she was laying on his chest while his arm was around her waist again.

“Well,” Y/N started slowly, “I came home and found my mom with another man. The man flipped out cause I guess my mom lied about her age and about having kids. And then she proceeded to blow up at me. Kept telling me how I was trying to sabotage her work and how I was worthless. The usual nonsense you know.”

John B nodded in the dark and gave her a squeeze telling her to continue.

“And,” Y/N paused, “and then she said she wished it was me who left instead of Dad.”

John B’s heart sank. “But then,” Y/N continued, “It was like she flipped a switch. She claimed she didn’t mean it and that she loved me. I didn’t believe her this time so that’s when I ran.”

Y/N shifted so she could look at the boy. John B had a mixed look of anger and sadness on his face. “Y/N,” he started, “you’re not going back there.” And for once, Y/N listened to him. “Ok.” John B was slightly surprised, but mostly relieved she didn’t try to defend her mother.

Y/N laid back down and closed her eyes as John B started speaking again.

“You don’t know how much you are loved. Especially me, but the group. JJ would fall apart if you weren’t here, and Kie and Pope, you know how much they care about you. Don’t let anyone tell you you are nothing because you are far from it. I promise you. You are worth everything to me. Promise me you won’t ever doubt yourself,” John B said.

Y/N smiled in the darkness. “I promise, John B.” He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her even closer as she finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, the two were woken up by a very loud voice. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” JJ smirked. Y/N curled into John B’s chest mumbling something about killing JJ for waking her up.

“Leave them be JJ,” Kie’s voice snapped softly. “Thanks Kie,” John B groaned, slinging his arm over his face to block out the sunlight.

“Let’s go, we’ll meet up later,” Kie said before John B heard the porch door open and close.

“Congrats man,” JJ added kindly before slipping outside after Kie. “I love you,” Y/N mumbled before her soft snores filled the room again. John B grinned like an idiot and whispered, “I love you too my sweet girl,” before he slipped back into a comfortable sleep.

_____________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed! More fics coming soon! And feel free to send in requests! Xoxo

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tardytothepardy · 3 years

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Ok, so I've just finished reading through Gakuen Alice, the whole finale and everything, and I kinda feel like it was either rushed, or missing something. There were just weird elements to it, and stuff that doesn't make sense to me.

(massive spoilers for a lot of the series below, just an fyi)

So, in the finale, Mikan's been taken away from Alice Academy, and has been away from it for a couple years. She has no memory of anything from that time, though she sometimes still gets hit by intense emotions unexpectedly, most likely parts of her memory trying to get through. She's a high school student, she's 16 years old, and apparently there's recently been an incident of kidnappings in the area that seem to specifically target girls around her age.

So when she goes down to the beach with her two friends, simply called Sa-chan and Shi-chan, and a bunch of shit starts going down, there's reason to panic, right? Ahh, there's a bunch of men here that I don't know that are going to kidnap me!!! But then, another group of men that she doesn't know show up and beat them up! Whoa! Then, randomly, for some reason, one of her friends just smooshes up her face and suddenly she's an entirely different person. But that's not all. All these new strange men seem to know her, and they have crazy powers! There's one guy who just made all the kidnappers pass out with a wave of his hand! Another guy seemed to just make fire spring out of nowhere! What the fuck??

I just,, the way that Narumi and Tsubasa and Natsume and Tonouchi and fuckin,,, everyone else just seems to think it's so funny and wacky that Mikan, who does not remember any of them, is freaking out and thinking they are going to kidnap her, it bothers me. Like, imagine just going through your day, then a bunch of weird men who act like they know you surround you completely, then just laugh at you when you freak out. What the hell.

I just generally have gripes about how the characters act, basically. It's just fucking weird to me, idk. Could it be due to the fact that I read all of this within the span of maybe three days? Sure. But still.

Starting off, I just have to talk about how Natsume,,, acted? behaved? responded? something,, to Mikan. He fecking grabbed her wrist (and uh, again, she hasn't remembered who any of these people are yet) and just fuggin stares at her. Sure, that does trigger something in Mikan's memory, and she's starting to vaguely re-remember stuff, but then he just??? grabs her chest????? What????? WHy?? Would??? you??? do?? that????? I just,,, I know that he did do shit like that earlier in the series, constantly making comments about how flat her chest was (YOUR HONOR SHE'S FECKING TEN YEARS OLD WHAT'S YOUR DEFENSE) and looking down her shirt or whatever, but,, from around the first Christmas party onwards, he never pulled any of that shit. He never made comments about any of that weird shit, none of that. I (foolishly, apparently) thought that he had,, I dunno,, kinda moved on from that whole,,,, assault,,, thing,,, but no. Guess not.

And like, at this point, idk how old he would be, but probably around 17 ish years old. Wh-- why?? What,, what-- WHY DID HE DO THAT??? WHY DID HE THINK THAT WAS A CORRECT THING TO DO??? It was bad enough when they were younger and actually knew each other, it's fucking gross and uncomfortable now that they're both older and SHE DOESN'T FUCKING REMEMBER WHO THE FUCK HE IS. To her, he's just some random creep who groped her? Ah, teenage romance, what a dream~~

After that.... incident, a few other things happen, but he just fucking grabs her (she still hasn't fully realized what is going on or who any of these random men are) and fukkin yells at her for leaving the school before he woke up, all those years ago. Dude, buddy, pal, friendo, she didn't have any control over any of that shit. She wasn't the reason that Nodacchi brought him back a week or so after Mikan left, she didn't know any of that!! She was waiting that whole time, but she didn't have any control over when Nodacchi would bring back Natsume, I just,,, why. It annoys me immensely.

(i'm rereading through the whole interaction again and uh,, yeah that one panel where he's holding her and just starts talking about shit that she doesn't remember or understand and then fuggin says "You are mine"??? UH,, DUDE?? NO. STOP. Props to Mikan for not losing her shit bc I definitely would. I'd be having a panic attack or something, this is an intensely stressful situation and I just,,, The sighs that I am sighing are so intense. Disappointment is accompanying every exhale, I stg.)

It is only after Mikan absorbs that fragment of her first Alice stone that she even starts to remember stuff and I just,, I do not like it.

Moving on from that, Ruka. What's up with him. What's he been doing this whole time. Idk. He just feels weird to me. Maybe it's the fact that everyone's all grown up and all seem to be experiencing a particularly nasty case of same-face-syndrome, but he just seems so,,, bland? Empty? There's something off about it, I don't get it. I mean, at least Ruka doesn't try to do something to Mikan when she hasn't remembered who tf he is, so he has that going for him.

At least he has a purpose beyond just standing there: it's to give Mikan those earbuds that Hotaru made, and they allow for Mikan to hear Hotaru's voice which spurs her to become determined to find her. (Also apparently whenever this is all taking place, that is actually Mikan's birthday. Some point in the summer, I think? I can't say for sure without checking the wiki.) (ok so I looked at the wiki and it says her birthday is May 17th, so, yeah.)

But yeah I just,, after Mikan remembers everything and agrees that she wants to find Hotaru, the entire Class B from when Mikan was in the Alice Academy is suddenly transported there, and among the things that I saw, I saw that Nobara and Persona,,, had a kid??? What??? I'm confused. Never mind the fact that he's probably like twice her age, easily, but like,,, where tf did that come from? I don't get why that happened. It's weird. Why? Why was that a thing? I'm confused.

I'm not sure that I'm just underwhelmed, I think I'm also kinda disappointed, honestly. The series had been picking up so much steam, there were so many things going on, feelings were developing and growing, and I was completely caught up in it. But after the scene where Hotaru and Subaru sacrifice themselves so that Mikan can be with Natsume in the future I just,, wasn't really feeling it? I mean, I was crying all the way through to when Mikan was being taken out of Alice Academy, that was sad and stuff, but then the last few chapters just felt so rushed. So many things (but it also felt like too few things) were just piled on top of each other, one thing after another, I didn't feel anything. I was expecting to be elated once Mikan and Natsume were reunited, after all, that was the whole reason why Hotaru sacrificed herself. I fuckin watched him die, and I was screaming and rocking around in my chair and hyperventilating, I was caught up in all of that. But when Mikan did remember everything and stuff, I was fine. "Oh, cool. That's nice." I don't even know why, honestly.

I think, really, that (and this sounds questionable) I preferred everyone as kids. Because up to this point, they've all been kids. The way that they act are the ways that kids act (more or less, no kid should be through a fraction of what these kids were through), and I became familiar with them. But now everyone's grown up, they're almost adults, but since this is the finale, there isn't time to show how people have changed, and so they just feel one-dimensional. Like, I think one of the main reasons why Natsume's actions threw me off so much was that, like I said, it seemed like he had dropped that behavior (of um, groping, assaulting, harassment, stuff like that) kinda early on in the story. From at least the first Christmas party and onward, he never made weird comments, he just didn't do weird shit, and that's why it's so weird that that's what he decided to do. "Hey, how I can jog the memory of the girl that I fell in love with all those years ago? Well, I suppose I can grab her chest and comment on how it's bigger. That seems like a solid plan." Dude, what? No.

This whole encounter, of finding Mikan, was a thing that was thought about, almost certainly planned, for who knows how long, but it just kinda feels like they (the entire group) had like, a week, to come up with a plan to find Mikan, try to get her memories back, and then ???? something???

It's weird, I'm tired, and kinda disappointed. Which is really sad, because I really liked the story up until the finale. I almost feel like there's something else, to the story. That chapter 180 isn't the end, but that's as far as I could read it, so that's all I could get from it.

#honestly part of me was kinda scared of this #I tried to not amp up my anticipation for it too much #maybe i ended up doing it anyway #if i do end up reading this series again (which I probably will) hopefully the ending won't feel so weird #part of it might be the fact that I'm not reading the actual books (bc they only got translated up to vol. 15 or so in English)#so I'm actually reading a fan-translation so it might not be exact #but I find it hard to believe that they would just snafu the FINALE so fucking hard???#Minor grammatical errors are one thing but the entire ending of a series feeling weird underwhelming and hollow is another #idk #Maybe as I take time to think about it and take it all in I'll come another conclusion but for right now #I'm disappointed #gakuen alice #mikan sakura #natsume hyuuga #ruka nogi #hotaru imai

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

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X-Men Unabridged: Hellfire (1980)

The X-Men, those often stripsearched mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 129 - 131) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne

Since I think Scott, square extraordinaire, would also say: “I know squat about rap, but this Vanilla Ice dude is excellent,” I’m not putting much stock in his musical opinions. (X-Men 130)

Before we finally reach the apotheosis of the Phoenix saga, we’re going to take it a little slowly by focusing on the first three issues of 1980. They are basically the ramp-up to the end, putting all the pieces in place for the X-equivalent of the Red Wedding, the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm or the explosion of Alderaan. But, before smashing the board, Claremont introduces three new queens to the game. Here they are, in order of Awesome:

Emma Frost, or The White Queen; a telepathic HBIC with ambitions beyond dressing up in lingerie;

Kitty Pryde, or Sprite (Shadowcat, these days);

Alison Blaire (Dazzler), a disco dolly with light powers who unfortunately starts out as a relic of time gone by.

But before we can expand, Claremont shrinks the cast: Banshee, who sold his voice to a sea witch has injured vocal chords, stays behind on Muir Isle, retiring officially. (It’s gonna be a while before he returns to the X-Family in any true capacity - I think it might be the 90s?) It’s the first time since Thunderbird’s death that the core cast changes, and it’s not that surprising that Sean gets the shaft: Banshee, who has been positioned as the older, more experienced member of the team, has had very little to do (and Claremont has seemed reluctant to flesh him out the way he has the rest of the X-Men). Sean is essentially a decent, upstanding man who has mastered the use of his powers: there’s very little way to go without breaking him down or changing the course of his character. (If you’re a fan of him, go read the Phalanx Covenant and 90’s Generation X: it’s the best use of Sean.)

Polaris, Havok and Jamie also stay in Scotland, choosing a quiet life without superheroics. (For those familiar with X-Factor, this is where you laugh and laugh and laugh.)

Jason Wyngarde, meanwhile keeps fucking with the Phoenix, using his psionic fantasies to unleash her darkest self.

Jean’s darkest fantasies amount to little more than a Victorian bodice ripper, which is adorable. (To be fair, if I were trapped in a lusty prison of my own design, I´d probably dream up my own Downton Abbey soap opera where I was sleeping with all the hunky house boys, so…) (X-Men 129)

Scott, meanwhile, reveals the sheer depths of his repression by admitting that he never let himself feel the grief for Jean’s death.

If you think it’s weird that Jean falls for a sleezeball like Wyngarde, remember that the love of her life is a man who is so repressed that it took him 5+ years to tell his friends he had a brother. Her taste in men is questionable at best. (X-Men 129)

The whole “I accidentally picked up a stray thought” has to be such a bullshit. It’s like your sister claiming that she heard from a friend of a friend that you like someone, while she actually just read it in your diary. Telepaths are snoops, Jean, own it.

Speaking of telepaths without boundary issues, Professor X is back from space! He immediately slips back into a stupid, patriarchal role and treats this X-Men team the same he treated his X-Men in the sixties. Scott is like: dude, these aren’t the same dumb teenagers we were, but Xavier won’t listen. Their squabble is interrupted by Cerebro, alerting them to the existence of two new mutants! One in NYC, one in Chicago.

Somewhere else, the Hellfire Club is revealed to be listening in: they have bugged the mansion a long time ago. While most the Inner Circle is featured in some way in this arc - we finally get to see Sebastian Shaw’s face! - the main villain here is the White Queen. She’s coordinating the attack on the X-Men and is looking to recruit Kitty for her Academy in Massachusetts.

It’s kind of bizarre that it took so long for this plot - an emerging young mutant is an object of interest for two competing factions - to be a main plotline, considering it’s such a staple for the X-Men mythos as a whole. (See, for example: the New Mutants, Generation-X, the Young X-Men, but also Rogue in the first X-Men movie and the whole of X-Men: First Class. Hell, X-Men Evolution’s first season was practically built on this trope.) It is kind of fitting that one of the mutants introduced this way is Kitty Pryde, the first X-Man that would be completely Chris Claremont’s creation.

While teacher’s pets Cyclops, Phoenix and Nightcrawler can go to New York, Xavier takes Colossus, Storm and Wolverine to a suburb in Chicago (“to monitor them in the field”, fuck you too, Chuck). In the Windy City, we meet plucky YA-novel heroine Kitty Pryde, who’s being tormented by headaches.

The KISS-poster in Kitty’s room is fortunately the only crossover we’ll have between the X-Men and the KISS-comics published by Marvel. (X-Men 129)

Just after a certain Ms. Frost has pitched her Academy to the Pryde parents, the X-Men arrive. While Charles works the parents, Ororo takes Kitty to get some ice cream, letting slip the secret of the X-Men.

Wolverine reading a titty mag in an ice cream shop while both Ororo and Charles are trying to convince people they run a legitimate school is a hilarious mood. (X-Men 129)

Kitty’s appearance is supposed to have been inspired by a young Katherine Hepburn, which is particularly evident in these panels.

Anyway, they are promptly attacked by Hellfire droids, who spook Kitty into jumping through a wall. Finally, her powers are confirmed: Kitty can become intangible, ‘phasing’ through objects. When the X-Men defeat the droids, Emma Frost comes along to finish the job, psychically overwhelming Storm, Wolverine and Colossus. She abucts them, not realizing Kitty has stowed away in their… floating… hovercraft… thing. She also manages to abduct Xavier.

I love how Emma’s to-do-list was:

Abduct the X-Men

Strip them naked (X-Men 130)

The Inner Circle and their motivations are slowly fleshed out: they’re all in it for power, money, glory. (Emma would love Lana del Ray.) But they’re not a united front: Wyngarde considers Phoenix the road to power, Emma believes in raising (and controlling) the next generation of mutants and Shaw… Well, Shaw is a clever opportunist, not afraid to sell out his own kind. (It’s heavily implied the Hellfire Club helped fund Lang’s Sentinel program.)

Through Jason, we pick up the thread in New York, where Jean and Scott visit some shady club downtown. Nightcrawler is stationed outside. Inside, Jean enjoys the relative perversion of the clubbing crowd, until Jason shows up and twists reality, shunting her to ‘their wedding day’.

It’s never made explicit, but in between the lines, it’s highly probable that Jason seduced Jean, violated her body and mind. That, combined with the whole BDSM/Marquis de Sade atmosphere of the Hellfire Club where the men are fully clothed and the women prance around in lingerie amounts to a whole lot of ick, ick, ick. (X-Men 130)

In Chicago, Kitty skulks around the compound of Frost Enterprises. She manages to creep up to Ororo’s cage, who gives her a number to call. Before she can do anything else, Emma sees her, calls all her henchmen cretins and orders her to get that pigeon kitty. Kitty flees and manages to get a call in.

Kurt picks up the phone in their limo (which feels super swanky for the eighties!) and Kitty delivers her warning. Kurt is then promptly attacked, as are Phoenix and Cyclops. Together, they make short work of their attackers, with the aid of Dazzler. Introductions follow:

Dazzler’s “nope” tells you about 80% of what her character is about. (X-Men 130)

It’s funny to see how relatively unknown the idea of mutants still is. Kitty doesn’t even consider it, even though freaky shit is happening to her, and Dazzler hilariously doesn’t give a figgin where her powers come from. (Though she may just be in denial. Anyone who wears a disco ball around her neck can’t be accused of good common sense.) In ten, twenty years, I bet there’s tons of teenagers in the Marvel Universe who get headaches or weird growing pains and fear that one morning, they might wake up a mutant.

It’s odd how Cerebro picks up Dazzler as a ‘neo-mutant’, even though it’s obvious she had her powers for a while. It might have to do with the fact that Dazzler wasn’t created by Claremont and Byrne, but by Tom DeFalco and John Romita Jr. However, because editorial wanted to Dazzler’s debut to make a splash, so they added her to their best-selling book and she had to be shoe-horned into this plot. She was originally intended to be closs-platform - there were plans for albums, Bo Derek would star as her in movies - but since Marvel had the keen foresight to introduce her just as disco was dying all of this got shelved. After a solo series, she’ll become a pretty solid B-Lister X-Man in a couple of years. (Should I be covering her solo series? It’s only very tangentially X-Related. Sound off below!)

Cyclops, Phoenix, Nightcrawler and Dazzler Trojan Horse their way into Frost Enterprises and make quick work of the White Queen’s cronies while Emma is creepily making Storm her personal plaything. Kitty, meanwhile, manages to free Wolverine by phasing through the electronic lock. Jean recognizes the Hellfire Club from her (fake) memories with Jason, but doesn’t connect the dots quite yet.

Emma, frustrated that her plan is falling to pieces, takes out her ire on Storm, threatening to lobotomize her. Jean… does not take this lightly.

“I understand you call yourself something of a telepath” is absolutely the most badass line Jean has ever uttered. Fuck yeah. (X-Men 131)

With the White Queen defeated (rumors of her death are greatly overrated), the X-Men can briefly regroup. Dazzler does not join the X-Men, being too into the idea of becoming the mutant Madonna, while Kitty is delivered back to her parents. To prevent a nasty scene, Jean casually alters the memories of her parents, removing the memories of Kitty’s involvement with the kidnapping of the X-Men. This also neatly prevents her parents from realizing what a horrible idea it is for a 13 year old to join a superhero squad. (Even if she has a defensive power.)

This arc ends with the two people who love Jean the most voicing their concern:

When you look up ‘muhahahaha’ in the dictionary, this picture of Jason Wyngarde will be the definition. (X-Men 131)

Hold onto your butts, people. We’re almost there.

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linniewritesficz · 4 years

Text

Tooth and Claw // M. Y. G.

Hybrid Yoongi x Fem. Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Violence, blood, basically all the injuries that come with fighting and shit, death (but not a main character so no worries), I guess you could call it animal abuse since he’s part animal, reader almost gets assaulted

Summary: Predatory animal hybrids are rare and illegal in your society, but that doesn’t stop some people from rearranging the DNA of orphans and then selling them on the black market. Min Yoongi was one of those orphans who was “adopted” as a baby and turned into the monster he believes himself to be now. Because of his panther DNA, he is an incredible fighter and is feared in the underground fighting rinks his owner forces him to participate in. He has given up on living a normal, comfortable life free of violence and constant running from authorities that want to get rid of his very existence. That is until Yoongi meets you.

Author’s Note: I’m supposed to be finishing the first chapter of my Prince Au but,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I had this idea and had to get it out. It’s barely edited and mostly written at some ungodly hours of the morning, but I loved the idea so I ran with it. Its on the long side so grab a snack! Um also, the ending is a little up in the air so if you want a part 2 let me know :) Enjoy! xx Linnie

Bright fluorescent lights blind Yoongi for a split second before he hears the deep growl of the grizzly bear hybrid that was placed in the pit with him. The familiar smell of sweat, alcohol, and blood coupled with the fear of the young hybrid in front of him fills Yoongi's senses. He could tell that he was no older than maybe early 20s. This was his first fight, and with Yoongi’s track record, it would most certainly be his last.

“Place your bets, gentlemen! The panther or the grizzly!” the man with the megaphone announces to the crowd of men who were most certainly not gentlemen in any translation of the word.

“Win this fight, kitty, and you might get something good to eat tonight!”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the slurred words of his owner. They were obviously lies, fully knowing that he would be given the bare minimum of calories needed for survival tonight and locked in his too-small cage.

“Didya hear me kitty? Useless bastard!” This was his owner’s philosophy: an angry and hungry hybrid is a winning hybrid.

Before Yoongi has the chance to react like he wants to, a scantily clad lynx hybrid is kicked across the dirt floor holding a sign announcing the first round was beginning. The men in the stands above them begin cheering and yelling obscene statements towards the female hybrid and she scurries away to climb out of the pit, much in the same way his opponent would be carried out of dead in a matter of minutes.

Yoongi readies himself, lowering his center of gravity and extending his claws. Although he was usually smaller than his opponents, he possessed superior agility and speed, leading to his gruesome victories.

Yoongi notices almost immediately how unsteady his opponent is on his feet. He is tall and broad, but top-heavy and will be easy to take down with a strategic pounce on his back, forcing him to fall on his stomach. After that, it would be an easy win. Yoongi would use his claws or his sharp teeth to rip into his opponent’s neck and instantly causing him to bleed profusely. It would kill him in approximately 10 minutes and another win would be under Yoongi’s belt.

“Your winning streak is over, kitty” the grizzly hybrid spits and bares his sharp teeth at the smaller man.

“You have a lot of confidence for someone who’s about to die,” Yoongi says calmly but narrowing his eyes while his sleek black tail flicks angrily around his ankles.

After the horn sounds, it doesn’t take long for the younger fighter to move towards Yoongi, and for Yoongi to quickly run and slide in between his opponent’s legs. He easily swiped at his hamstrings, slicing through the fabric of his pants and into the thick muscle of his leg. The grizzly howled in pain and spun around clumsily to face Yoongi, bleeding and limping severely. Yoongi glanced up to where his owner was leaning over the railing of the pit, him receiving the signal to keep going. He nods and prepares to deliver another blow to his opponent.

In the process of the exchange between Yoongi and his owner, the grizzly manages to swipe at Yoongi’s face narrowly missing his eyes. Yoongi dodges a second blow, raking his claws across his opponent’s arm. Another painful, but ultimately minor injury. He knows that the men watching him fight are here to watch a show, and although this was his first fight with a grizzly bear hybrid, he was proving to be an easy opponent. However, he gives them what they want until his owner gives him the signal that it is time for the fight to end.

After nearly 10 minutes of playing around with the grizzly hybrid, Yoongi is panting and wincing in pain from a painful swipe to the shoulder the younger opponent manages to get in. However, the other is in much worse shape. Both legs are bleeding profusely while claw and teeth marks litter his neck, arms, and back. It is here that Yoongi looks up at his owner who nods.

Yoongi’s ears flatten against his skull and every hair on his body stands at attention as his eyes narrow.

“I’m done playing games with you. It’s high time we end this.”

Yoongi’s ears flatten against his skull and every hair on his body bristles in preparation. Before his opponent has a chance to turn around at the sound of his voice, Yoongi is running at full speed towards him. He leaps onto the back of the grizzly and sinks his teeth into his neck, meeting tough muscle as he tries to rip it from the body. In a rage, the hybrid begins to try to shake Yoongi off of him and successfully manages to do so, causing Yoongi to be thrown at full force against the wall of the pit.

Although mildly disorientated, Yoongi launches himself off of the wall and on to the shoulders of the grizzly hybrid and flips off of them before grabbing onto the fencing that covers the makeshift ceiling.

The grizzly roars and grips his neck before looking around frantically. “Where the fuck did you go you fucking coward??”

“Up here, asshat.”

Looking down at the grizzly, Yoongi grins wickedly before dropping down on top of him and sinking his teeth into his fleshy neck once again. It is this time that he is taken to the ground fully and is knocked unconscious. As the crowd cheers above him, Yoongi manages to finally rip open the grizzly hybrid’s neck, delivering the fatal blow. Another victory.

In an instant, it seems, gunshots ring through the room as people yell “Cops!” and begin to scatter. Yoongi has little time to react as he rips himself away from the dying hybrid in front of him and begins to climb out of the pit to hopefully make it to his owner before a bullet does. It takes two, albeit painful, leaps to make it to the top of the pit and onto the sticky ground of the room.

“Where the fuck is my panther?” the drunken words of his owner rip through the chaos and Yoongi’s ears perk up at the sound.

Although the piece of shit he calls home is the last place he wants to be, there really is no other choice unless he decides to run. Yoongi begins to move towards the sound but only stops due to the sight of his owner desperately trying to fight off two police officers. Yoongi stiffens. These men want him dead. His very existence is a threat to them and if given the chance, they would not hesitate to shoot him on the spot. So Yoongi runs, faster than he’s ever run before. And he doesn’t look back.

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The alleyways are almost as dirty as the fighting pits, offering a small sense of familiarity to Yoongi as he tries his best to tend to his own wounds. His shoulder is throbbing but the best he can do is not move it as he licks at his knuckles. Knowing that he did not get far from the fighting pits, Yoongi is on edge and is constantly looking over his shoulder as he walks down the dark alleys knowing full well he could be found at any minute.

Eventually, he settles himself beside a large dumpster and breathes a sigh of relief into the night. I did it, he thinks to himself, I’m finally out of that hell hole.

New scents and sounds flood Yoongi’s system as he attempts to fall asleep, but he knows it will not come easily as his heart is still beating rapidly with his panther instincts still on high alert. Every scurry of a mouse or shout from a bar in this distance makes Yoongi’s eyes snap open. He knows he needs to get farther away from the fighting pits for him to be safer.

It is not until about three in the morning when Yoongi’s shoulder stops bleeding and his eyes become heavier with sleep. He leans his head against the dumpster and begins to fall asleep. Suddenly, a sharp distress cry wakes him again and he jumps to his feet, ready to flee. There is no way the police could catch him if he leaves now, but Yoongi stops in his tracks as a new scent fills him.

This scent, coupled with a strong smell of fear and whiskey, is sweet and unlike anything Yoongi has ever experienced in his life. His tale flicks around his ankles, but not angrily, rather indicating his curiosity and need to know more about whatever person or object is producing that scent.

“C’mere baby. Just wanna taste is all.”

“Get the fuck off of me! Fuck! Help!”

From where he’s standing, Yoongi can see a burly man hovering over a smaller figure. Although the two are dimly light by a flickering street light, he can clearly see that the larger figure is incredibly drunk and is not listening to the words coming from the second person. Yoongi can tell that neither one of these people are hybrids and that the second person is a female, the one producing the scent that has peaked his interest.

Yoongi can feel an intense push to run over to the two and pounce on the man that is seemingly attempting to assault the girl.

No, you’re hurt you fucking idiot. Do you want to die on your first night of freedom?

Fighting within himself, Yoongi lets out a deep growl, one that was different than his usual growl that would be used to intimidate his opponents in the fighting pits. This one come from a different place. Not one of self defense, but of an overwhelming need to protect the girl from any and all harm. It scares him, but he pushes the fear back before running at full speed towards the two, giving into his primal instincts.

In an instant, he pins down the large man and snarls in his face.

“She said to get the fuck off of her. If I ever see you touch her again I will personally rip every limb from your body. GOT IT?”

Underneath him, the drunk man trembles and lets out a shaky breath.

“F-fine! Ok! I won’t touch your bitch!”

Standing up, Yoongi watches as the drunk man runs off as best he can towards another bar, presumably to find another woman to harass into the night. It is at this moment that Yoongi is filled with the scent once again and he turns around to find you backing away from him slowly.

He opens his mouth but as he does, his vision blurs and a sharp pain runs from where his shoulder wound is through to his entire body. Yoongi stumbles, no longer the fierce and agile predator but instead a very injured man in need of serious medical attention. As his eyes roll into the back of his head, he doesn’t notice small but strong arms catching him before he falls and slips from consciousness.

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“I didn’t know what else to do Tae! He saved me from some drunk asshole and then passed out. I couldn’t just leave a hybr- Yes I know it’s dangerous. Yes thank you for your insight.... Look if you’re not gonna help me I’ll call Namjoo- Thank you.”

You hang up the phone and sigh as you rub your temples.

“Stupid stupid stupid! You fucking brought home a goddamn hybrid knowing full well you have no business handling a hybrid. You fucking dumbass!”

“Who’s the dumbass?”

Whipping around, you find the man, no hybrid, that saved you the night before standing in your living room instead of passed out in your room like he was ten minutes ago. He looks pale and scruffy, his black hair completely disheveled and matted in some places. You notice how he clutches his right shoulder and how the ripped shirt is stained with dried and fresh blood. There is a look of fear and curiosity in his bright amber eyes that make you cautious to approach him.

“I-I have a friend on the way.. He’s in veterinary school and can help with your wounds,” you look down at your feet before looking back up at the hybrid in front of you. “Thank you for saving me last night.”

He doesn’t acknowledge your words, and instead looks around the room to inspect every object and corner. He is scared and in an unfamiliar environment, you assume this has to be normal behavior, right?

“Where am I?” his voice is scratchy and low, like he hasn’t used it much in a while.

“Um well, you passed out after attacking that drunk guy so I dragged you to my apartment.”

“Why do you smell like that?”

Your eyes snap up to meet his. “Pardon?”

“You smell different. And it’s not because you’re a human. Why?” the hybrid narrows his eyes at you and takes a step forward.

In response, you step backward and gasp as your back hits the countertop. As the predator takes another step, your attention is shifted to the turning of your doorknob.

Taehyung takes one step into the apartment before he is met with a sharp hiss and growl coming from the hybrid that now is aiming his aggression towards him. He jumps in fear and slams the door shut behind him.

“Shit (Y/N) you didn’t tell me he’s a predator!! You said he was a house cat!!”

“He is a cat!”

“Call me a house cat again and I’ll rip your arm off.” the hybrid spits in anger.

“Well then what are you??”

“I’m a fucking panther. Are you dense? Who are you?”

Taehyung cautiously sets his bag down and slowly holds his hands out for the hybrid to sniff. “My name is Kim Taehyung. I’m just here to help you, buddy. I’m going to school to specialize in hybrids, ok? My friend, (Y/N) here says you saved her. Now she wants to save you, but you gotta trust us.”

A moment passes before the hybrid speaks again, this time his voice is small. “You’re not gonna hurt me, are you?”

His words make your heart ache for him. This hybrid was obviously abused and made to think all humans would treat him like whoever had owned him in the past.

“We’re not gonna hurt you. Can you start by telling us your name and where you’re from?”

“Yoongi, Min Yoongi. And I don’t know where I’m from. The only time I was ever let out of the house was when my owner would take me to the fighting pits.”

“That must be why you’re so injured,” Taehyung says, mostly to himself. He turns to you. “(Y/N), can we use your bedroom? I’m gonna need some space to work.”

Hours pass by before you see Taehyung exit your bedroom, removing a pair of surgical gloves and running a hand through his hair.

“You owe me. Big time.”

“I’ll buy you dinner from that fancy French restaurant you like so much! He didn’t hurt you, right?”

Taehyung shakes his head, “No, but he did threaten me with my life multiple times. You’re making me rethink my dream job, but it’s fine.”

You reach out to hug your friend and he accepts, falling into your arms and sighing. While you want to comfort your friend, the only thing you can think of right now are Yoongi’s earlier comment about your scent. Thoughts like that don’t cross your mind, but due to the hybrid being obviously taken aback by your smell it is something you cannot shake.

“Hey Tae, you would know better than me. Are hybrids sensitive to smells? Like specific smells that a person or another hybrid can give off?”

Taehyung releases you and looks into your eyes. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

You clear your throat and look down at your shuffling feet. “The hybr- I mean Yoongi said earlier that I smelled different. And not human different.”

He cocks his head to the side, like he always does when he’s deep in thought. “Well, some animal breeds mate for life and it is often based off of pheromones the two are producing, like wolves and swans. But hybrids are generally not bred like that,” Tae pauses for a moment, “The only way it could happen is if a male hybrid’s DNA is modified specifically to suppress his animalistic need to mate with multiple females.”

Your eyes glance over to your bedroom door, the only thing separating you from the panther hybrid that is sleeping soundly. There was no way whoever bred Yoongi to be who he is was that advanced in DNA modification. That doesn’t make sense.... Doesn’t it?

528 notes · View notes

retrievablememories · 4 years

Text

style | jaehyun

title: style pairing: jaehyun x black!reader genre: fluff request: “I was watching the bts for the photo shoots for neo zone and made think about how fun it would be on set with them. Do you think you could write something more jaehyun centric about being like a new makeup artist on set. It can be a black reader as well if that’s cool with you” word count: 2.8k warnings: none that i can think of except some cursing a/n: oof okay my mind somehow skipped over the “new” part so the reader in this fic is actually pretty experienced w/ being a makeup artist. i could rewrite it but i didn’t want to wait any longer to post this fic since it’s already been a couple weeks since the request. i’m sorry if this is not what you were looking for anon, let me know 🤕

Being a Black makeup artist in a mostly Korean music industry can be weird at times. It’s not the life of roses and perfume that many others at the beginning of your career would’ve had you think it is, but you have managed to carve out your own niche. You have friends and people who support you, and a nice apartment you’re able to pay for with the salary you receive from SM, which is enough for you.

It also doesn’t hurt to be surrounded by pretty men all the time.

You worked for many different groups and solo acts before landing a steady job at SM Entertainment—some were nicer than others, and some were straight-up assholes. You can’t say you miss those days much, especially when you were just starting out and not always certain of where your next paycheck was coming from. Now, your most consistent clients have been NCT, which you are grateful for; they’re always pleasant and fun to work with.

Your latest work with them involves NCT 127’s new album, Neo Zone. You’re coming in today for the first day of the album jacket photoshoot, which you’re excited about; you haven’t seen any of the NCT members since you worked on Coming Home. You don’t mind doing makeup for the other SM acts, but there’s a certain connection you have with this group that you just can’t explain.

With your makeup bag on hand, you enter the studio where the boys are going to be shooting today, already taken aback by the loud orange checkerboard pattern on the floor. There are even garish deer heads and hooves mounted up on the walls; SM has really outdone themselves this time.

“Y/N, it’s you!” Jaehyun looks excited to see you, and his enthusiasm rubs off on you; you shoot him a welcoming smile back.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you say, walking over to where he’s standing. Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to open his arms to give you a hug, and you appreciate the soothing smell of his cologne before pulling away.

Jungwoo and Mark run up to you too, crushing you between them in a hug, and pretty soon you end up embracing all of the boys as they come over for your attention.

“Wow, that is some hairstyle…” you say as you pull away from Johnny. You reach up to pinch one of his twists between your fingers, examining it with a look halfway between mortification and amusement.

“Do you like it?” he asks, an equally awkward grin on his face.

“Um…I’m sure the fans will love it.” You can only chuckle and pat him on the arm before making your way back over to Jaehyun to start on his look for the shoot. You pull your supplies out of your makeup bag as Jaehyun watches you from the chair; his attention is eventually drawn away when Taeil comes over to show him something on his phone.

When you have everything ready and have pinned his hair out of the way, you start painting his face.

Jaehyun only has one AirPod in his ear; you’re not sure where the other is, but you figure it must be with Taeil or one of the other members. You think he’s just listening to music without paying you any mind, but he says suddenly, “I like when you come around.”

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

“I dunno, your makeup just looks better…” He lowers his voice as if he doesn’t want the other makeup artists to hear, and you laugh inwardly.

“Maybe it’s because I know how to use the right foundation shade.” You both laugh openly at that, and Haechan takes notice, dropping in beside Jaehyun.

“What are you two laughing about? I wanna laugh too,” the younger man says, his eyes round and mischievous.

“Just the fact that it’s no fun to walk around with makeup looking like Casper the Ghost,” you say, and Haechan scoffs.

“Try telling that to….” Haechan’s eyes dart around, and you suspect the makeup artist he wants to throw shade on must be at the shoot with them right now. “...nevermind, that’s a discussion for the group chat!” Instead, he goes over to Taeyong to bother him.

“Group chat? I feel left out now,” you say jokingly, continuing with Jaehyun’s makeup.

“You don’t have one with your stylist friends or something like that?” he asks.

“Yes, but I wanna know what you guys are talking about…” You raise your eyebrows. “That’s just nosy me, though.”

“Nothing interesting,” Jaehyun replies, though you can tell by the look in his eyes that that’s far from the truth.

“Mhmm, sure.” You purse your lips together and shake your head. “Don’t let me find out you’re on some fuckboy shit.”

“If I was, would you punish me?” Jaehyun says this loud enough to draw a few mildly scandalized glances from the stylists and makeup artists standing nearby, and you duck your head, feeling equal parts tickled and embarrassed.

“You’re a mess, Jaehyun. I’m trying to keep this job, okay?” you reprimand him, but there’s no seriousness in it at all.

“Of course, you’re right—I’d never want to see my favorite staff member gone.”

“Shiiit, now I’m just a staff member?” You put a hand over your heart, acting hurt. You both laugh and joke around for a while longer until you’re done with his look for the photoshoot.

Once you finish with Jaehyun’s makeup, you do Mark and then Taeil, chatting casually with them all the while. Taeil is still a bit quiet with you, but he’s incredibly funny when he wants to be, and you can always appreciate a good joke or two. You know Jaehyun “flirts” with you noticeably more than the other members do, but you’ve gotten used to all their subtle differences and you don’t think to chalk it up to more than innocent playfulness—or over-playfulness, maybe.

You’re always somewhere nearby in the background, ready to jump in and retouch someone’s foundation or redo a highlight whenever necessary. You sit back and watch Jaehyun take his solo pictures, admiring your good work on his makeup—or maybe his handsomeness all on its own. He has a good face, you think, and try to convince yourself that you’re only thinking about it in terms of how easy his features are to work with.

Your front row view of the show is interrupted when one of the stylists comes over to ask you a question, and you’re pulled to another area to handle an issue. There’s never not something to do on days like these, though you don’t really mind it; being busy doesn’t bother you as much when the work is fairly fun.

The other boys continue playing around on the set as they wait their turns for solo photos and then group pictures. You eventually end up back in front of Taeil again, fixing a spot on his foundation with a Q-tip as a hairstylist fusses over his strands.

You sit on one of the couches on set for a moment’s break after finishing with Taeil. Johnny comes creeping over to you with the polaroid camera he’s been carrying for the past half-hour, and you can already guess what’s about to happen. You hold your hands up, blocking your face.

“I know you’re the aspiring photographer and all, but can you give me and my visage a break?”

“Just one?” Johnny begs, giving you his best pout. You give him an unimpressed look and cross your arms, but your face eventually cracks when he keeps throwing you exaggerated pouty expressions.

“It’s not happening! I’m not even prepared for pictures today,” you insist. Your complaints are interrupted when Haechan slides onto the couch beside you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Don’t you want to take a picture with me, at least?” He tries to press his cheek against yours and you gently chide him about his makeup, not wanting to create more work for the other girls on set who’ll have to fix it. “I knoww, I knoww. If you take a picture with me, I’ll stop!”

You sigh in mock distress. “Fine, one photo! Can’t keep these paparazzi off my back, can I?” You and Haechan end up striking multiple poses for Johnny while he pretends to be an enthusiastic photog capturing a celebrity couple.

“Hope Jaehyun doesn’t get too jealous,” Johnny says absentmindedly, holding one of the shiny polaroids between his fingers. You cock your head at that.

“Now why would he get jealous?”

“Because that’s how Hyung is,” Haechan replies, quickly getting off the couch and trying to usher Johnny off the scene. He acts as if the older man has just said something he wasn’t supposed to, and Johnny belatedly notices his “mistake” with an awkward shrug. Before he leaves, he hands you one of the polaroids of you and Haechan.

“Put it in a scrapbook or something!”

“Sure, Johnny.” You stare at the small photo in your hands, though Johnny’s words stay floating around in your mind well after the first day’s shoot is over.

The next day is hectic, much like the last, though the set is quite different this time around. You definitely feel a bit better about having more space to move around in without other staff members practically standing on top of each other. Johnny’s hair is back to its normal state, though now Taeil and Haechan have braids; you can’t help but squint your eyes at that, though you say nothing. It’s not worth falling out with the hairstylists again—you learned early on that these companies are gonna do whatever the hell they want.

“You look really good today—all thanks to me, of course,” you tell Jaehyun after he finishes recording his part for the BTS video. “Aren’t I magic?”

“Don’t knock the hairstylists, they wouldn’t like to hear that,” he snickers.

“I’d like to do more than knock them, but we ain’t got time for that.” You wave your hand and change the subject. “Did you enjoy yesterday’s shoot? I dunno about you, but I think it went pretty well. Hopefully today is the same.”

Jaehyun nods his agreement. “It was great.” Then he pauses before casually mentioning, “I heard you and Haechan were getting close yesterday, though.” You notice Doyoung and Yuta out of the corner of your eye, lingering around as if they’re waiting on their turn for photos, but it’s clear that they’re eavesdropping from the looks on their faces.

“Yes, so sue me for hanging out with an NCT member that isn’t you, how could I ever betray you in such a way?” You cover your mouth in faux horror and the other man shakes his head, grabbing your elbow.

“I don’t know if my heart will ever recover,” he says, going along with your act. He pulls on your arm and brings your hand to chest. “Feel it—it’s broken!”

This feels like a bold move even for him, and Doyoung makes a noise in the background that confirms your surprise. You whip your head towards the other two men and they immediately scatter, finding other things to preoccupy themselves with to avoid your scolding.

Jaehyun’s heartbeat is a little faster than it should be under your palm, and at this point you can probably guess why. Johnny’s words and Haechan’s near panic come to the forefront of your memory again. You behave as casually as you can, drawing your hand back to your side and quirking an eyebrow at him. Someone calls your name from the other side of the room, and you go to see what they’re hollering about, but not before calling over your shoulder,

“Your heart rate’s elevated, might wanna see a doctor about that!”

You end up having to retouch Jaehyun’s makeup more than usual throughout the shoot because of his playing around with the other boys, whether it’s riding in a shopping cart or trying to pedal a damn bicycle up the wall, and you almost have to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

“You’re really gonna make me work for this job, huh?” You put your hands on your hips after finishing your quick fixes.

“Maybe.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“So, you admit you think I’m cute?”

“What do you expect me to say? You certainly ain’t ugly...don’t let it go to your head, though.” You pat his shoulder and steer him towards the cameras. “Now go on! Don’t make me have to stay past midnight fixing your makeup all day.”

The rest of the jacket shooting goes smoothly—as smoothly as anything can on a busy set, anyway. Yuta even manages to get you to dance with him to one of the songs blaring over the studio’s speakers, though you scurry off again as soon as you see Johnny coming with his phone in hand. You know his blackmail folder must be huge at this point, and you’re not trying to become a part of the collection.

The boys come over for their hugs again as you pack up your makeup bag. Pretty soon, the only one left without an embrace is Jaehyun.

“Saving the best for last?” you ask as he watches you. He really does do that a lot, you realize.

He shrugs as if he’s unaffected by your compliment, but his dimples peeking out give him away every time.

“You can just say it, you know.” You look around and lower your voice. Though the playlist is still cycling through as loud as ever, you’d rather not have anyone else’s ears in your conversation right now.

“Say what?” he whispers back, still smiling.

“Hello! I think we both know.”

“You want to hear me say it that bad?”

“That’s rich coming from you! I’m not the one who pulled a move literally out of a kdrama earlier.” As you speak, you accidentally knock over a bottle of setting spray on the table, and both of you reach for it at the same time.

Jaehyun’s fingers linger on yours, sending little sparks of excitement up your arm and through your body. You risk a look at him, and although you’re supposed to be keeping it low right now, you feel as if you’re the only two left in the room. He leans closer, and his familiar scent hits your senses again, threatening to wrap you up permanently in its hold.

“You’re right. I like you.”

Jaehyun picks up the fallen bottle and presses it into your hand, and it takes you a few seconds to react and put it back in your bag.

“I knew it,” you lie. You’re not sure why you feel so nervous about this, or why you feel like you’re doing something you shouldn’t. It’s not uncommon for idols to date their stylists; after all, they’re around each other all the time. But that doesn’t mean the company or anyone else will approve.

“Yes, Detective, you’ve figured out the big mystery.” You glare at Jaehyun for that, but he remains unphased. He turns around and leans against the table, giving off a casual air when he’s really checking to make sure no one is heading in your direction. “So...what do you say?”

You decide to draw this out a little longer just because you can. “To what?”

“I know you like me too.”

“Maybe,” you say, mimicking his earlier answer. “What are you gonna do about it if I do?”

“Make you my girlfriend, duh.” He says it with all the confidence in the world, but then backtracks a little when you give him an amused look. “Only if that’s what you want, though; we don’t have to do anything if—”

“You’re overthinking it!” You shake your head as you put the last thing in your makeup bag and zip it up. “I want to. Really. But you’re gonna have to take me out first.”

“Just tell me where you wanna go. I’ll take you anywhere.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and sigh. “Have you always been this good with words? Or is it just because I like you?”

Jaehyun pushes himself off the table and steps closer, crowding into your personal space. “You tell me.”

“Don’t be so obvious.” You step back when you notice one of the managers’ eyes lingering where you two are standing. “Just...text me. You know how to reach me, right?”

“Of course.”

You continue stepping backwards towards the entrance, not wanting to let him out of your sight just yet. You smile and wave with both hands, still playing the role of “makeup artist to a super-famous kpop idol” and not “departing girlfriend” like you want to. “Then we’ll talk next time! Bye, Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun waves back, and you don’t turn around until you’re well into the hallway and one of the other boys has called him to hurry up. Leaving the building, you lean against one of the outside walls to take a breather before you head to your car.

“Holy shit.”

#jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fic #jaehyun fic #ambw fic #ambw kpop #ambw scenarios #ambw imagines #jaehyun #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct fic #yes...two fics for the price of one today

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rochiomaru · 3 years

Text

Destiny

I am on the Numancia, sailing towards Mariejois. Just the thought of that place causes bile to burn the back of my throat. I spit over the side of the boat and grimace in distaste. If there was ever an epitome for the tragedy that has befallen me in my lifetime, it is found within its walls. I swing my head back and roll my shoulders as a wide sneer plasters itself on my face. I begin to laugh as I think of the fools living there, and the Marines I am on my way to meet within its gates.

Despite the bitter taste in my mouth, a smile finds its way on my face while I consider the events of the last couple of years since Rosinante’s betrayal. I still cannot stand to be in the snow to this day, but do manage to find my way to Minion island at the same time each year since he died. I can feel that wretched heat that always threatens to fill my eyes when I think of my broth… of the traitor lying on the frozen ground. I try to tell myself that my chest tightening and the sudden tightness of my throat is simply anger. I know it’s a lie, but that will have to be sufficient until I return there next time.

As my ship comes closer to the harbor, I can see that other ships have already docked within the walls surrounding the city. It surprises me that they would allow so many pirates into such proximity to such a supposedly holy place. I realize that these pirates are essentially held out as dogs on leashes, but even a trained dog can still bite its owner, should the mood strike it. The thought of the shichibukai turning on the marines makes me laugh as I picture bloody corpses and gore splattered along the pristine walls of Mariejois.

Once the Numancia has properly anchored and I give word to my crew that I am disembarking, I use my strings to fly the last few hundred meters to the shore. I see no need to entrust my family to the marines, even if I do hold all the cards in this particular game. I have been burned once by these bastards; they shall not get the chance to do it again. Until I know more about what being a warlord entails, my ship will stay outside of the walls.

Once I land on the dock, I see Sengoku and Tsuru standing there with about a dozen marines. I stop to stretch my arms over my head and crack my neck. I want them to realize exactly who it is they are up against, if they are planning an attack. I am fairly certain this was not a trap, as the invitation to join the warlords did not come from this loser. I have spoken with people, much higher up the ranks than Sengoku. He is, after all, simply their puppet. I begin to laugh at the thought and walk towards them slowly. If they are in a hurry, they can come to me.

The one they call “the Budda” confronts me first. He has the same look of hatred that Rosi...the Commander had that day as he stops me from getting closer to the entryway. I stop and look down at him, though I must admit the jackass isn’t that much shorter than me, but enough that I can smirk and allow some haki to push against him. Since submerging myself more into the underworld after that incident, I have found even greater information about my enemies. It’s quite useful what power and intimidation can buy. Now that my bloodlust is fully unleashed, no one is willing to stand against the Joker. Several marines were more than helpful in giving me details as to how my former brother came to be raised by this man and set against me.

I lean forward and speak, “Greetings, Fleet Admiral. How thoughtful of you to come and welcome me.” I cock my head to the side and let my tongue fall out as the sarcastic words practically drip with venomous undertones. My mind is beginning to scream and my thoughts are hard to control, but I have come to accept my own madness these past couple of years. Though I plan to burn the world, and these fools with it for what they have done, I can bide my time.

His face turns a beautiful shade of purple as anger wells within him. A vein becomes visible on his temple and he grits his teeth while he slowly begins to speak, “Captain Donquixote, of the Donquixote Pirates. Welcome to the Royal Shichibukai…”

I watch in amusement and he appears to begin choking somewhat. A half sobbing noise comes from within the man’s throat before he coughs and forces out the next sentence. “Your bounty of 340,000,000 is hereby exonerated.”

I spy a solitary tear in his eye and cannot control the laughter that comes from my chest. I am so enraged that I want to slaughter everyone on this damned island. How dare he act like the victim?! This is the fucking bastard that set my precious brother against me and forced me to remove him from this life! I have no biological family to speak of due to this piece of trash in front of my face! And he has the utter gall to consider himself the one wronged?

The laughter comes louder and deeper from within me and soon I am doubled over with it. I have to laugh to keep myself from flying into a murderous rampage. The time to massacre this vermin has not come yet. However, I do not think Sengoku appreciates my benevolence. The harder I laugh, the more outraged he becomes.

Finally he screams and begins to shimmer. His body is morphing as he grows and turns golden, and his men take arms against me. My laughter stops instantly, as if cut by a blade. Quicker than anyone’s eye can see, I engage my strings and every man he has is strung in the air by their throat. My smile is gone, and I hold my right hand outward with slender fingers extended. Tsuru keeps calm and steps between myself and the Budda, all of our eyes look upwards to the struggling soldiers as blood begins to drip softly from the wounds digging into their tender flesh.

“Do not test me. I did not come here to fight, but I will finish this,” I inform them coldly, leaving no room for doubt as to my power. The voices I have come to live with and that own my soul are screaming to end the lives of the men hanging from my strings. They push me to make an example of these rats for having attempted to strike out against me without provocation. My teeth are grinding tighter and faster as I lose myself in the chaos within my own tormented mind, and my fingers begin to curl which causes the threads to tighten their hold on the men.

Tsuru puts her wrinkled hand on my arm and I hear a slight gasp come from her lips, but suddenly everything goes quiet within my mind. I search for the demons that haunt me every moment, but they seem to have withdrawn from my consciousness. Slowly I meet her eyes and she says softly, “You are not what I imagined you to be, brat.” I swallow a lump in my throat as a warm feeling settles in my chest. Though they really look nothing alike, there is something in her brown eyes that reminds me of my mother.

The moments seem to tick off endlessly as we consider one another and she then admonishes in a louder voice, “Maybe you should quit with these games and we can get to business, eh?” The fearlessness of this old woman as she looks me in my face amuses me greatly and I smile at her. I drop my hand, causing the soldiers to fall from the sky. I can’t help but to chuckle at the sounds of them moaning while trying to stand and see to the superficial cuts and bruises on their worthless necks. It isn’t like I did any permanent damage.

"Anything for you, grandmother,” I chirp while blowing the older woman a kiss. She grunts and rolls her eyes at me, but I am sure I see a small smile in the corner of her mouth. I cannot help but to like her, and offer her a smile in return. She is so very interesting, and I think these meetings may not be nearly so dull if she is involved.

Sengoku, on the other hand, still looks like he wants to kill me. The smile fades from my face and I clench my hands at my sides. She notices my change and quickly turns towards him. “Come on, you old fool! It’s time to start the meeting,” she snaps while grabbing a hold of his collar, causing him to bend forward. She then drags him behind her and into the building, the marines staggering after them.

I watch the door they disappeared through and continue to stew about the confrontation with that bastard. If it wouldn’t be so damn inconvenient to my plans, I would use my strings to strangle the life out of Sengoku here and now! However, I know that with this meeting to officially make me one of the Royal Shichibukai, I will have to have more interactions with him similar to the one we just experienced.

The only joy I get is knowing the influence I hold over the Elder Stars. To watch that piece of shit have to bow to my whims simply because of who I can make a call to if he displeases me, almost makes all of this worth it. I cannot help but to laugh at the thought of him pissing himself in fear at what the Stars may do to him or his underlings if the Elders are pushed too far, or pressed with the right information. Perhaps Sengoku shouldn’t have turned the Commander against me, hmmm? Fucking bastard.

I take a few more deep breaths and close my eyes. I notice that the voices have returned to my mind, and though the reprieve was amusing, I revel in the chaos beginning to swarm in my mind. I have lived with it for so long, that I honestly don’t know how to react to life without them now. After a few more breaths, I realize it’s time to move on. I head into Navy Headquarters.

In the time it takes to enter the building and walk the hallway to where I am to meet the others, I prepare myself for whatever may come once I enter the room with the Warlords. Though I fear none of them, I know they are all powerful pirates and need to be on guard for any possible plots against myself or my family.

With a wide grin in place, I enter the room. It is time to step into the next phase of my destiny.

#donquixote doflamingo #tsuru #my demons #drabbles #sengoku the buddha #doffy #love that flamingo #donquixote rosinante #shichibukai

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need-a-fugue · 3 years

Text

We Grow Together (27)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: An argument leads to a deep dive into the past, and Tessa finally shares with Bucky some important insights into her history.

Warnings: Angst! Brief mentions of sexual assault.

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

“What the hell was that?” Bucky angrily barks when he enters the conference room they commandeered at the tower.

Tessa doesn’t even realize that he’s talking to her, she’s so consumed with reading the emails on her phone. But of course, everyone else in the room knows exactly who his words are directed at. Clint casually reaches over her and pries the phone from her hands. “Hey! That’s important… that’s work,” she complains, smacking at him to get the phone back.

Bucky steps up so that he’s directly in front of her, looming over her as she leans on the table at the center of the room. “I told you to stay in my sight.” He seethes. “You don’t disappear like that.”

“What?” she asks, a scowl taking over her face. “Are you serious? I moved around the corner for like 30 seconds.”

“The one thing we agreed on was that you’d stay in our sights. The entire time. That’s protocol.”

“Protocol?” she laughs. “You said you were going to shoot him.”

He lets out and indignant scoff. “I wasn’t going to shoot him! You were in the middle of a restaurant. In Manhattan. You think I’m an idiot?”

“You think I am?”

“Enough,” Steve shouts, walking over to stand between the arguing couple. He turns to Tessa. “You were told to stay where we could see you. That was an order.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Cal’s a complete asshole, but he’s no threat to me. Not like you’re thinking.”

“That’s not the damn point,” Bucky shoots out from behind Steve.

Steve levels her with a stare. “When you’re in the field, you follow my orders. If you can’t do that, you can’t be a part of this team. Understood?”

“Am I supposed to salute now or something?” she says, crossing her arms tightly in front of her.

He takes a step closer. “Is that understood?” he asks again through gritted teeth.

If she is intimidated, she doesn’t let it show, her stance remaining defiant even as she bitterly issues out, “Yes, sir.”

“And you,” he says, spinning around to face his friend, “You’re not in charge here.”

Bucky’s face pinches, so taken aback by the statement. “What?”

“This is my op. You report to me. You don’t threaten civilians – ”

“It wasn’t a real threat,” he protests.

“You don’t berate someone on my team,” Steve goes on.

He throw up his arms in obvious irritation. “This is such bullshit.”

Steve grabs his arm and drags him to a corner of the room, never mind the fact that Bucky’s metal fingers furiously try to pry loose from his grip as they move. “You’re pissed off, I get it,” he says in a low tone. “But if you want to be on this team, I need you respect my authority. If someone on the team screws up, it’s on me to talk to them about it. Not you. Especially if that someone is your…”

Bucky raises his eyebrows expectantly. “My…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know what I’m saying. If something happens with Tessa on a mission, you need to let me handle it. I don’t want to cut you loose. But if I feel like you can’t be objective, I will.”

Bucky grinds his jaw, positively seething at his friend’s – his captain’s – words. “Understood,” he grits out finally, realizing that there’s really no logical argument he can make.

“Good.” Steve turns back to the team. “Good,” he says to everyone. “Okay. Let’s head back to the compound for tonight. We can reconvene at 0700 to have an official debrief and plan our next move.”

“I don’t suppose anyone else wants to give me a lift?” Tessa asks, not even bothering to look up from the phone that she finally managed to wrestle away from Barton.

“Oh no,” Clint says, patting her on the shoulder as he heads for the door. “But just remember, if things get too tense, you two can always pull over and hate fuck in a bathroom somewhere.” She punches him in the arm. Hard. But it doesn’t keep him from raucously laughing as he strolls out of the room behind Nat and Steve.

000

They’re in the car no more than five minutes when she starts worrying her hands so hard that he actually hears a knuckle pop. He glances down and sees the anxious tugging and bending that’s caused her fingers to go white. “Stop that,” he snaps.

She looks over at him with a pained expression. “I’m sorry about leaving your sight, okay?” He doesn’t respond, though she can see his jaw tense as he watches the highway in front of them. “Are you really that mad at me?”

He pinches his lips tightly together and looks away from the road just long enough to spare her a glimpse. “No.”

She continues to nervously work her hands. “Are you sure? You seem pretty angry.”

He takes in a long, deep breath. “I’m mad at you for disobeying orders.” His eyes drop to the abused fingers in her lap and he sighs as he removes his right hand from the steering wheel and drops it onto her hands, pulling them apart. He laces his fingers with hers and turns his attention back to the road. “But I’m not really mad at you.”

She swallows hard and gives his hand a sharp squeeze. “I’m not good at following orders.”

“Yeah,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he moves his hand back to the wheel. “I know.”

“Steve got very captain-y,” she hums, brows raised. “I thought he was going to ground me.”

Bucky lets loose with a small chuckle, though he tries to hide it. “You’d deserve it.”

She shifts in her seat, turning to face him. “I popped around the corner for less than a minute.”

“A minute is all it takes,” he says, tone suddenly serious.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me. He wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know that,” he says, the pinched expression returning to his face.

“I do know that. I know him.”

“Right,” he says, a sardonic laugh escaping him. “You know him pretty damn well, huh?”

“Aha!” If it weren’t for the fact that she was belted in, she would be jumping right out of her seat. “I knew you were mad.”

“I’m not mad,” he seethes. “You have a past. So do I. You’ve been with other men.”

“So have you?”

He slowly turns his head to give her an irritated look. He’s met with a very recognizable shit-eating grin. “I’m not mad about that. I didn’t like finding out about him this way…”

Her expression falls and she pivots a bit in her seat, leaning her head back as she stares at him. “I didn’t know… It honestly didn’t occur to me…”

“I know.” He turns his soft blue eyes to her just long enough to momentarily meet her gaze.

“I didn’t really think he was dead.” She crinkles her brow. “Well, he could’ve been and it wouldn’t have surprised me. But… I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

They sit in silence for a good mile and half before Bucky nervously utters, “You were with him for five years.”

She scoffs loudly. “Hardly.” She pulls her legs up underneath her, folding herself up on the leather seat. “I mean… technically, maybe.”

“Technically maybe?”

“It was… complicated.”

He continues to stare straight ahead at the road, makes no move to look at her when he asks, “Did you love him?”

She hesitates only briefly. “Yes.”

He gives a slow nod as he takes that in. “Even though he’s an asshole?”

Sniggering, she replies, “Because he’s an asshole. Always was.” She looks out the window wistfully. “The guy you saw today is the guy he’s always been. Just a giant ball of selfish, blind ambition.”

Bucky raises his brows thoughtfully. “Sounds a little like someone else I know.”

“You think I’m selfish?” she frowns at him.

He glances over at her with a playful smile. “Blindly ambitious,” he clarifies.

She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I guess we did have that in common.”

“So…” he prompts when she falls silent.

“So what?”

“So why would you fall in love with an asshole?” He looks over and sees the thoughtful frown on her face. “Am I an asshole?” he asks, a hint of sincerity mixed in with the teasing.

She looks positively stricken when she turns to him. “God, no. Baby,” she says, reaching out to grasp his shoulder, “You’re amazing.”

“I’m amazing?” he laughs.

She leans closer to him, curling around the center console in an attempt to be next to him. “You care so much… about me and Steve, and everyone else you love. And you love! And you show it.” Falling back into her seat, she turns her face away. “Cal was never like that. Not at all.”

“He didn’t love you?”

She shrugs. “I think he did. He’s just… different. And honestly, at that time, when I was with him – at least in the beginning – I don’t think I would’ve really accepted love… not the kind of love that you give me, anyway,” she finishes with a soft smile.

Bucky nods for a moment, thinking through what he wants to ask next. “But he never… hurt you?”

“Well,” she breathes out. “I was young, dumb, and in love. And he was a bit older, way more experienced, and, you know, an asshole.”

“Physically,” he states, a rough edge to his voice. She gives him a confused look. “That dream you had,” he says, struggling to get the words out. “Someone choked you.”

She takes a sharp inhale and shakes her head emphatically. “No. No, that wasn’t Cal.”

“So… some other asshole boyfriend?”

Sighing, she leans her head back on the headrest. “That was before Cal. A long time ago. When I was even younger and dumber.” She looks over at him and sees his jaw tick as his eyes remain fixed on the road ahead. “You’ve been holding onto that one,” she says with a smirk.

He gives her a get serious look, but says nothing.

They sit in silence for a long moment, the only sound the low hum of the barely there music on the radio. She lets out a single, long-held breath. “It was in college. I was 18 and living a double life. Science nerd in a fast-track med program by day. Vigilante mutant X-Man by night. Well, some nights.” He glances over at her and sees that she’s staring pensively out the passenger’s side window as she speaks. “There was this guy… just a normal, smart guy. Normal. You know how it is, you go out a few times. You have a good time. You think, hey, this is great, he really likes me! And I’d never been with a normal guy before. But then it was like a switch somewhere flipped and…” She shrugs again.

“And?” he asks, his voice timid.

She turns to face him and the two lock eyes for a brief moment before he’s forced to look back at the road. Once he turns away, she continues, slowly, achingly. “That night, things got… heated. More heated than usual. And he shoved me. And then he choked me. And I started to use my powers. But then I thought… if you do that, everyone will know. At Xavier’s I was… me. Whatever that meant. But in the real world… I had to be someone else. Something else.” She closes her eyes tightly, squeezing them shut for a single, long moment. “Like I said, I was young and dumb.”

He sits with her words for a moment, brow furrowed in thought. Then… “You let someone just…” He can’t quite bring himself to finish the thought, so she does it for him.

“Rape me?”

His eyes go wide, chest tightens. He had thought that might’ve been what happened. But hearing the word… It’s almost too much to take, and all at once, his mind veers back to Cal. “Why would you love someone who’s bad to you?” he asks, the question tumbling out over his lips as he slowly pulls the car over to the side of the road.

“What?” she asks, genuinely confused.

He puts the car in park and turns to her. “Why would you let someone hurt you?”

She looks into his eyes and sees indisputable pain, as though just hearing that she’s been hurt in the past had somehow managed to knock the wind out of him. “Are… are you talking about…”

“I’m talking about all of it, Tessa. I’m talking about this guy… Cal. I’m talking about re-hiring Max. I’m talking about this… thing in college.”

“I just told you about that. I didn’t want to be found out. I didn’t want to be the mutant freak.”

He shakes his head and stares her down, his light eyes suddenly swimming in unshed tears. “I’m talking about me almost killing you.”

“Jesus!” She rips off the seatbelt and propels herself upright in the car seat, up onto her knees that had been tucked beneath her. “We’ve been through this!”

“Have we?” he asks, voice a little too calm.

“You didn’t mean to hurt me. You would never mean to hurt me!”

“But I did.”

She shakes her head, frustration causing a bright blush to grow over her cheeks and burn at the tips of her ears. “I shouldn’t have to explain to you why I did or didn’t do something… I shouldn’t have to explain to you why I forgave you for something that wasn’t even your fault.”

“I never asked for an explanation. Because I know I would’ve forgiven you too. But… I’m worried there’s something more here. A pattern.” He speaks while staring down at his own hands, either too upset or too certain of his words to be willing to look her in the eye as he utters them.

Tessa takes in a deep breath and markedly blows it out. Anger and frustration are causing tears to build in her eyes and clog the back of her throat. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she chokes out.

At hearing her tear-filled voice, his gaze shifts up. He locks eyes with her and his frown deepens. “I just want what’s best for you,” he says, soft sincerity lacing his words.

She lets out a single, harsh guffaw. “That’s what you say to a child, James. I’m not a fucking child.”

“Okay.” He turns back to the road, stares ahead at the setting sun in the distance. The car continues to run, engine idling in rhythm with the slight hum of the music on the radio.

Tessa shifts, unfolding her legs from beneath her and sliding back down into her seat. “Cal was like a drug for me,” she says softly. “His energy was… intense. And penetrating. I… I felt it.” She sniffles a bit and swipes at a few errant tears that rolled down her cheeks. “It’s not a pattern. I’m not some insecure little girl who goes looking for pain because she thinks she deserves it.”

He pivots his head toward her, gazing at the side of her still-red face as she focuses her eyes straight ahead. “What is it then?”

She shakes her head absently – “It’s me.” – and turns her glistening gaze to him for the briefest of moments. “Sometimes… I feel so much that it’s like I can’t actually feel anything at all. I can’t really explain it. Feeling energy… it’s just something I can do. It’s like seeing or hearing. Or smelling.” She turns her body towards him and reaches out, takes his hand in hers. “You know what it’s like when you smell something for so long, and you get used to it… sensitized? And then you just can’t smell it anymore?”

He nods.

“I think I have a better handle on it now. Probably not always. But I can sort of… tune people out now in a way that I couldn’t before. But then… when I first met Cal… I just needed to feel. And he had this sort of powerful energy that was just so… big. And I needed it. Because it was the only thing I could really feel. Sometimes I still get like that.” She pulls in a sharp breath. “And sometimes that intensity is bad… yeah. Sometimes it’s unhealthy or… or hurtful.” Then, looking deep into his eyes, she says simply, “But sometimes I need it.”

He pulls his hand from hers and reaches up to her face to swipe away a few tear tracks with the pad of his thumb. He gives her a small, almost sad smile. “Do you get that from me?”

A slight chuckle escapes her, as do a few more tears as her eyes shift down. “At first, maybe. Yeah, you have a sort of brooding intensity. And that was probably the first thing that attracted me to you.” She looks back up at him, takes in his frown. “Then I got to know you, and I realized there was so much more to be attracted to. And then I really got to know you…”

“I don’t like the idea of you wanting to be with me because of that.”

“Baby, it’s just… you.” She snuggles her cheek into his open palm. “Your energy is bright and intense and brave and… How could I not want to be around that?” He looks less than convinced as he drops his hand from her face and swallows hard. So she goes on, ready to explain. “Everyone has a certain energy signature. The people I know well, I can tell when they’re in a room, sometimes when they’re in the same building as me, even if I can’t see or hear them. I can feel them.”

He nods. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before.”

“But the thing I’ve noticed, the thing I’ve figured out over the years, is that inside that signature there’s this one thing. It almost feels dumb to put a word to it… a single word really isn’t enough to properly describe it… but…” She pauses for moment and chews the inside of her cheek as she thinks. “Natasha,” she starts again. “She’s this fierce, determined, fearless, smart, amazing woman.”

He raises his brows and nods. “Okay. Sure.”

“That thing that I can sense, the most potent piece of her energy signature… it’s vulnerability. It’s something she hides well, but I can see it… feel it. And Steve… When he’s around I’m swept up in this overwhelming desire for justice. It might not be something he’s always thinking about, but it’s so much a part of him that even his base energy just exudes it. Clint gives off joy. Even when he’s at his worst. Even when he doesn’t feel happy at all. He still is joy. Sam is love,” she says with a small laugh. “Pure and simple. And Tony is – it might sound crazy – insecurity. Bruce is fear,” she finishes with a frown.

Bucky gives her a thoughtful look. “What am I?”

She gazes at him, a small smile blooming on her face. “You’re my strength,” she says wistfully. “I might’ve noticed the intensity at first… the anger, the pain, the confusion… all of that created this force that sucked me in. But the closer I got to you, the easier it was to see what was hidden beneath all of those loud elements. You’ve made it through so much. You fought your way back from hell. You never gave up. You, my dear,” she says with a teasing glint, “are stronger than anyone I’ve known. At your core. It’s something that just… burns inside of you.”

He drops his head, a bit of a blush taking over his face. “That sounds better than… intensity.”

She laughs, a light and airy sound that makes his heart beat quicken. “Oh, you still have intensity. But what I get from you… it’s good.”

He looks up at her, still ducking his head. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “Cal was a destructive drug. You… you’re like… you’re like coffee.”

He snorts out a laugh. “I’m like coffee?”

Slowly, she climbs over the center console in the car and into his lap. He shifts to let her settle in as she wraps her arms around him. Laying her head on his shoulder, she mutters simply, “You sustain me.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #Bucky x original female character #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfic #Supernova

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fan-fantasies · 4 years

Text

Fight Me

Request: Could you write something with Sigtryggr in Winchester when Eardwulf strikes Stiorra, instead of her it could be Sigtryggr’s woman.

A/N: This will probably be a bit shorter than my other ones and it’s not really accurate to the actual scene (or so I think, my memory is a shit atm) but I hope you will still enjoy it! -Heather

Pairing: Sigtryggr x Reader

Warnings: Violence and the beginnings of sexual assault

Masterlist

You walked the palace halls with your head held high. Your people had conquered Winchester without so much as a battle. You knew that Edward would come, but you would be prepared.

Sigtryggr was a fearless leader with the intelligence of even the most experienced Danes. He thought differently than the older generation and that was proving to be beneficial. You admired him greatly and when he asked you to follow him from Ireland to the new land, you gladly agreed.

Things had taken a more romantic turn, both of you turning to each other in times of struggle. You loved him with your whole heart which is why you understood why he wanted to keep your love a secret.

He cared for you more than anything else and he didn’t want you to be taken from him. He knew how ruthless enemies would be toward loved ones. No one would be spared in the throes of war.

In the public eye, you were his most trusted advisor. In private, you were his solace, the one who saw the real him.

He had called for you in the reading room so you went right away. It seems as though you had beat him there so you decided to look over some maps while you waited. Not too long after you had gotten there you heard the door open and close behind you.

You turned around expecting to see Sigtryggr but were surprised when you saw Eardwulf grinning at you. You backed up against the desk and gripped the edges. You didn’t know the man well but something about him always made you uneasy.

“Oh, hello. Were you looking for Sigtryggr?” You asked.

“I was looking for you actually. One of the men said he saw you heading this way not too long ago. I’m glad I found you,” he smirked.

“Well I don’t have much time. Sigtryggr will be on his way shortly,” you told him.

“He’s been held up actually. Trouble at the gate I heard.” The man stalked toward you and you had no where to run. Maybe if you kicked him hard enough you’d have time to get to the door.

“There are some rumors going around that you are Sigtryggr’s woman, but he himself has claimed that he has no wife.”

“He does not misspeak, I am not his wife. Do not believe everything you hear at the alehouse.” You tried to move past the man but he grabbed your arm.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he growled.

“Yes, you are!” You yanked your arm from his grasp but he was fast and had you pinned to the wall instantly.

“You don’t disrespect a man like that, you bitch!” His hands aggressively roamed your body, groping your breasts while his mouth tried to connect with yours. You brought your knee up toward his groin but his hand caught it and pushed it back down. You clawed at his hands and tried to break away from him until his hand across your cheek stopped you cold. The slap rang out in the empty room.

The next thing you know, Eardwulf is being pulled off of you by someone else. You stepped away from the scuffle and realized that it was Sigtryggr that pulled him from you.

“Is that how you treat women, Eardwulf?” Sigtryggr had him backed against the same wall you were pressed to only moments ago. Sigtryggr was in his face, giving him no room to move.

“What we were doing is none of your business,” Eardwulf snapped. Sweat dripped down his face, his breathing giving away how uneasy he was.

“If you want to pick a fight with someone, how about someone who is more evenly matched?” Sigtryggr asked. His hand was on his sword while Eardwulf held his hands up in his defense.

“You want to fight me over a woman?”

“I will fight you over my woman,” Sigtryggr replied. Eardwulf’s eyes widened as he looked between the two of you. You went over and grabbed Sigtryggr’s shoulder.

“He isn’t worth it,” you whispered.

“He deserves to be punished,” he growled.

“And he will be. The gods will deal with him as they see fit,” you said. Eardwulf waited nervously while Sigtryggr stared him down.

“Go! Now!” He yelled. Eardwulf ran from the room, tail tucked between his legs. You collapsed into Sigtryggr’s arms as he held you tightly to his chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me. I shouldn’t have kept you waiting. If I had been here, none of that would’ve happened,” he said. You cupped his face in your arms and shook your head.

“None of that was your fault. Bad men do bad things and no one can prevent that from happening,” you said. He pulled you in for a quick kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

“I can’t bare the thought of losing you, of someone else claiming you as their own. Be my wife and I will make sure that everyone knows that you are mine and I am yours.”

Tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a soft laugh.

“I will be your wife, Sigtryggr Ivarsson.” He kissed you as if his life depended on it and he truly believed that it did. You would be his and he would be yours, in this world and the next.

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#sigtryggr #sigtryggr x reader #sigtryggr fanfiction #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfiction #tlk #masterlist

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bluebellwriting · 3 years

Text

Love Me Tender Part 1

An Alastor x Chubby!Reader in which you are Angel Dust’s older sister

“He’s a lost cause, (Y/N),” Arackniss had groaned.

“He’s our baby brother, you prick. Besides, I’m getting a little sick of mob-business. I need a break.”

“Dad’s not gonna like that. You’re his favorite.”

“Just tell dad I say hi and that I’ll see him for family dinner.” You slammed the phone down.

Alastor makes his way over to the lounging spider and gives him a curious smile.

“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick.” Oh dear Lord, who raised this creature? It takes everything within Alastor not to cringe and to keep his smile up.

“Ha! No.” Angel shrugs then points a finger towards the closed kitchen door.

He leans down slightly but makes sure to tower over you still, and grabs one of your hands before you even know what’s going on.

“(Y/N). Very nice to meet you, sir.”

“Sir! Why I haven’t been called that since, well, since the last time I had a wretched soul cowering before me!” He laughs hysterically and you shiver at the thought.

The smell of cooked chocolate invades your nostrils, and you briefly wonder if saving your cake is worth turning your back to this man. He seems to decide for you.

When you’re finally done you whip around and glare at him.

The radio continues to play as the song finishes

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x chubby!reader #they say write the stories you want to see

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