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remember-that-one-blog · 10 months ago

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As We Go Along (Part 1)

You were offered up as a payment to a mob boss by your father and step-mother. He agreed. Now you're the fiance of the most feared man in New York.

I do not own these characters!

Warnings: Abuse not openly mentioned but is talked about.

This first part is more of a background and getting to know each other chapter. More to come!

You were a burden. At least that’s the way they made you feel. You were from your father’s first marriage. Your mother had died when you were young and your step-mother never had anything for you. She never loved you, but she loved your sister. The daughter she had with your father. You knew this but you never thought she would talk your father into doing this to you. Marrying you off to some mob boss so he could get himself out of debt that he got himself in. She came up with it and he took it to the boss’ right hand man. Two days letter you’re engaged. You didn’t care either way. You hadn’t met the man yet, but you had heard rumors. He was cold-hearted and cruel. Nothing you weren’t used to.

Your father told you that you were to meet him tomorrow at his home.

“You will meet him tomorrow at noon. Here is the address. It should be easy enough to find.”

“Yes, sir.” Your father nodded without another word. That let you know that you were on your own now. Not that you haven’t been since your mom died. You packed up what little you had. Everything you owned fit into one duffle bag. As you laid in your bed for the last time you looked back on your time here with your family. You decided nowhere could be worse than here. With that thought in mind you slipped into a dreamless sleep.

You stood outside your childhood home giving it one last glance. It was bittersweet leaving this place. This is where you had all the memories of your mother, but this place had also been your living hell. You turned away with all the good memories of your mother in the forefront of your mind. A small part of you felt she was leaving with you as well.

You made your way to the bus stop. You looked at the address and read the bus schedule so you knew which bus you would need to take. It was hard, you had been getting around like this for years. You found when the bus you needed would be here you had hoped you left early enough just in case of any delays the buses may have.

You timed it just right. You made it to the address with ten minutes to spare. Although, all you saw was a giant gate but no house. A loud beep caught made you jump. That’s when you saw the intercom.

“State your business.”

“I’m Alexander Pierce’s daughter. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Barnes.” You heard the gate buzz open. A tall, blonde man in a black suit appeared before you in a black SUV. He stepped out to greet you.

“Ms. Pierce, Mr. Barnes has been expecting you. My name is Steve. I can help you with your bags.” He looked around you confused. You felt your face go bright red.

“This is all I have.” You grabbed your duffle bag by the handle. You saw something flash in his eyes but you weren’t sure what. He nodded and held the front door open for you.

“Here, I’ll put it in the back for you.” Steve took your duffle and sat it in the back seat.

“Thank you.” He gave you his hand to help you as you climbed into the front seat. This was new for you. You had never been treated this well. Maybe they were expecting someone else. You couldn’t help as these thoughts ran through your mind. Steve could tell you didn’t want to talk so he left the two of you in a comfortable silence.

It was a short drive to the house you were going to. It was more of a mansion. You felt your mouth drop at the sight. You heard Steve chuckle a bit. Your face went red again.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. You’ll be fine. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“You know him pretty well then?”

“I do. Been friends since we were kids. I know him better than he knows himself most of the time.” You nodded as you took in this information. That gave you a little bit of hope, not that you really ever clinged to it. Steve stopped the vehicle as you reached the front door. He got out, grabbed your bag, and proceeded to help you down onto the ground. “Take a deep breath and follow me. You’ll be fine.”

You nodded as you followed Steve up the stairs. The front door itself was huge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a place this big. Not that someone lived in any way. As you stepped inside you tried to take it all in. It was beautiful. Everything seemed to be decorated in light gray, white, and gold accents. While it was beautiful it didn’t have that homey feel that most homes do. Given what he does, that's not too surprising. There were tall windows everywhere. It made everything look even bigger. It was very modern. You were still reeling as you followed Steve further into the house. As you reached your destination you heard yelling that made you jump. Steve steadied you with a hand to your shoulder.

“It’s okay. Give me a minute while I go talk to him.” You just nodded. Steve sat your bag down beside you and knocked three times on the door.

“Come in!” Steve cracked the door and stuck his head in,

“Buck, it’s Pierce’s daughter.”

“Send her in.” Steve stepped back out to usher you inside the room. Once you entered your eyes went straight to the man behind the desk. He was handsome. Dark hair and bright blue eyes. He was almost as tall as Steve and just as built as he was. He was in a dark gray three piece suit.

“Ms. Pierce, I’ve been expecting you. How did your driver find the place?” You felt yourself deflate. So he had been expecting your sister. You wanted to ask but couldn’t bring yourself to, afraid of the answer.

“Uh, I didn’t - I mean, I brought myself. I don’t have a driver.” Bucky stopped what he was doing. You were looking down at the floor. He said your name just loud enough. Surprised you glanced up at him.

“You mean to tell me, your father sent you here alone?”

“Yes, sir. He did.” Bucky felt his skin crawl. At first glance he thought you were beautiful. Nothing would change that. As he looked closer though he could tell you weren’t taken care of. He could tell you had been given the bare minimum to survive. That was something that would not bode well with him.

“Why would he send you here alone?” You knew the true answer, but you were sure Bucky didn’t want to hear that.

“He had other business to attend to and I was capable of making it here myself.” Bucky didn’t like that answer.

“That’s not an acceptable reason.” That surprised you. “And doll, you can call me Bucky, everyone else does. ‘Sir’ is what everyone called my father.” His nickname for you caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but you didn’t hate it

“Of course, sir- I mean, Bucky.” Bucky straightened his tie and made his way to you.

“I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, I don’t have time to show you around or I would. Steve can show you around. I just have two rules.” You nodded to show you were listening. “Never go anywhere alone and never knock on or open this door if it’s closed. The only exception is if it is an emergency. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Steve, if you’ll show her around. I’ll meet you for dinner around seven, doll. I’ll take you out and we’ll get to know each other.” Before you could answer his phone rang. You followed Steve back out of the office and watched him pull the door closed. Steve must have sensed your hesitation.

“Just put on the best clothes you have, sweetheart.” You just nodded. You really didn’t have anything to go out in. You would see what you had though. You followed Steve around as he showed you where everything was. What you couldn’t wait to use was the kitchen. You loved to cook and bake. You didn’t get the chance to do it much at home, but maybe you could here. Finally, Steve showed you to your room. It was three times bigger than your old room was. You had what seemed to be a king sized bed, a little balcony that overlooked the backyard, an en suite bathroom and a closet that you could fit your entire old room in.

“Bucky thought you would want some space. He knows this wasn’t up to you.”

“I’ll have to tell him thank you.” Steve sat your duffle bag beside the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”

“Thank you, Steve.” He closed your door as he left. You looked around and laid down on the bed. It was so soft and cozy! You couldn’t believe it. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Maybe, just maybe, this would be okay.

Steve listened for you but you seemed to be unpacking. He could hear you moving around. Once he was sure you were okay, he went to talk to Bucky. Steve saw the door cracked and eased his way inside. Bucky was on the phone but he wasn’t as heated as earlier. He saw Steve made his way to him and ended the call. Steve made his way over to a seat in front of Bucky’s desk.

“So, anything?”

“She’s not anything like her father. She seems to be the exact opposite. She’s quiet, reserved. She doesn’t own a lot, Buck. She came here with one duffle bag. One.” That made Bucky’s skin prickle. He knew Pierce was a harsh man but didn’t think he would be harsh with his daughter.

“So you don’t think this is a set up?”

“If it is, she doesn’t know about it. From what I can tell she wouldn’t do something like that. She’s too soft spoken to do or go along with something like that.”

“I picked up on that, too. I don’t think she was treated well there.” Steve shook his head.

“I don’t think she was either. She seems to be genuine. Which is a surprise considering who her father is.” Bucky nodded. This was unusual, even for him. He normally wouldn’t agree to something like this, but he was looking to settle down as well. The last few women he dated only wanted him for money. He was hoping this might change that.

“Where did you plan on taking her tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet. Why?”

“I don’t think she has anything to wear to a nice restaurant. She seemed a bit panicked when you brought it up.”

“We’ll eat in tonight then. Would you care to go get it?”

“Not at all. You could go talk to her if you want. She’s good, Buck. You could use some good.” Bucky nodded. That was true he could. Steve got up to go get dinner while Bucky debated on going to find you.

You decided to go look around yourself taking your time. You couldn’t find Steve so you decided to go downstairs and see if you could find him there. You looked down the small hallway to see Bucky’s office door was cracked. You thought about going to ask him if you could look around yourself, but your thoughts were distracted by the kitchen. It was state-of-the-art. The mixers, the pans, the refrigerator. Everything was something out of one of your dreams. Your thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You jumped, turning around to see Bucky standing behind you.

“There you are. I thought you would still be unpacking.”

“No, it didn’t take me long. Sorry, I was just curious to see what you had in here. It’s amazing.” You looked around, still blown away by his kitchen.

“No need to apologize. Make yourself at home.” You gave him a small smile. You weren’t sure you knew how to do that. Bucky made his way over to one of the bar stools. He sat down while he eyed you from across the counter. He studied you as you studied him. He seemed to be a little more relaxed. His jacket was off and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Bucky noticed you changed into an oversized sweatshirt, some leggings and fuzzy socks. You seemed so cozy. “So, tell me about yourself, doll. What do you like to do?”

“There isn’t much to tell really. I help my family out when I can and bake if I get the chance.” Bucky nodded his head.

“What’s your favorite thing to bake?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, any kind of cookie really but definitely chocolate chip.”

“Would you wanna make some?” You felt your eyes get big. “No one uses the kitchen much. I usually either go out or order in and no one ever bakes.” You felt yourself getting excited.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You gave Bucky a genuine smile. Those were very rare for you. Bucky gave you one back, his were probably as rare as yours were, maybe even moreso.

Many cookies later, you and Bucky asked small questions at first. You found out he loved sweets and would love to have a dog but is afraid he wouldn’t have the time for one. He found out you loved dogs, even more than you loved baking, and you had never left the state of New York.

“We’ll change that, doll. Don’t you worry.” You giggled at that.

“You know, you’re nothing like everyone makes you out to be.”

“I’m sure my reputation proceeds me. Let me guess, a cold hearted killer and womanizer? That’s what they say in the tabloids I see every now and then.”

“Pretty much, but I will say you are much kinder to me than what I’m used to.” You gave him a small smile. You saw something flash in his eyes that you couldn’t place. With that he decided to bring up the elephant in the room.

“There is something I do want to talk to you about, doll.” You took a pan of cookies out of the oven and sat the next pan in while the others cooled.

“Okay, what’s that?”

“The reason I agreed to your father’s proposal.” You turned around to face him. You had been curious about it but didn’t want to ask out right.

“Okay.”

“Did you want to ask me anything?”

“I did wonder why you agreed to it. I mean, I’m nothing special. Men usually come to my father about proposals for my sister, not me. Although I know this was his idea. I’m just surprised you agreed to it.” You had never been this open and honest with someone you just met. There was just something about Bucky. “I’m sorry, that was overstepping. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Not overstepping, doll. I surprised myself when I agreed to it. The thing is, I am ready to settle down, but not give up my title just yet. I am tired of women just wanting money or just wanting to say they were with me. Granted, I could have gone about it differently than this, but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want something.”

“My father was the one who wanted something though.”

“Yes, but not you. I’m just curious as to why you just went along with it.” You took a deep breath.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Of course, doll.”

“I didn’t have a choice. My family also sees me as in the way. So, it got me out of their way.” Bucky’s heart broke for you. You could see it in his eyes. You felt your face turn bright red. You were going to be honest. Your family never hid their disdain for you around anyone, so you didn’t see the point in trying to hide it yourself.

“That’s terrible, doll. I can assure you, you won’t be in the way here. If you ever feel like that you come to me, understand?”

“I understand.” The timer went off for the last batch of cookies just as Steve walked in the door with take out. Your stomach immediately rumbled at the smell of Chinese food. Steve walked in, sitting the food on the counter.

“It smells like a bakery. Did you do all this?” Steve looked around at all the cookies you had baked. You felt your face turn red again.

“She did, we’re gonna try them after we eat.”

“They smell amazing. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Wait, Steve! Here, take some with you. I made way too many as it is.” You hurriedly put a couple of batches in some containers you had found earlier. Steve looked to Bucky as you were packing up the cookies. Steve gave Bucky a small smile and a slight nod you didn’t pick up on. You handed Steve the bag before Bucky could silently reply to Steve. Steve gave you a big smile.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I can’t wait to try them.”

“Let me know what you think. I haven’t got my recipe just right yet.”

“I’ll let you know. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Steve left you all to your dinner. Bucky started getting the containers out. You decided to go ahead and put the cookies that were already cooled in a container. Bucky was still getting food out when you were finished. You hadn’t seen this much food in front of you in a long time. Not that you didn’t eat, you just didn’t eat much. Bucky watched your eyes get wide.

“You okay, doll?”

“Yeah, that’s just a lot of food.”

“Maybe, but then we can have leftovers tomorrow.” He said it so easily. You were a little taken back. “Doll, would you care to get these last few containers out so I can go change. Then we’ll eat.” You just nodded. You didn’t have it in you to reply. Bucky walked up the stairs to his room as you got the last few containers out. You were still in shock at all the food. And the fact that he got some for you too caught you off guard. You didn’t realize it but you felt tears in your eyes. Usually when your family ordered out you got what was left and if you were still hungry you made yourself something in the kitchen. You didn’t hear Bucky come up behind you.

“Everything okay, doll?” He noticed the tears in your eyes. You quickly wiped them away. You noticed he had changed into a white t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. You thought he looked even better like this than in his suit.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I was just getting the rest out.” You put the paper bag in the trash can you found earlier. Bucky sat down on the same bar stool from earlier. He started opening the containers.

“Get whatever you like, doll. I got some of everything. I didn’t know what you would like.” You didn’t know what you would like either. You hadn’t had Chinese takeout before. Your family would get it sometimes but there was never any left for you. “What’s going on in your head?”

“Um, it’s just, uh-”

“Doll, you can talk to me. The side of me you see right now, no one else sees. This is for you and you alone. I want you to be able to talk to me. I know this isn’t conventional but I would like to be able to be open and honest with one another.” You wanted that too, but you weren’t sure how to do it. You never had anyone to confide in. Ever. This was all so new to you, so you decided to be open and honest about everything.

“I’m not used to this, Bucky. I’m not used to being doted on. I never get take-out. I don’t get luxurious bedrooms. I get told what to do and when to do it. I don’t know how to confide in someone. I don’t know how to make myself at home because I’ve never had that luxury. I always get the bare minimum. I’m the burden of my family and they let everyone know.” You hadn’t realized tears started to spill over by the end of what was always on your heart. You had never told anyone this. Bucky reached for your hand nearest him. When you didn’t pull away he clasped it in both of his. You could see Bucky’s eyes dim and then watch something light in them you had never seen before.

“You will never be in the way here. You are going to be my wife and with that is going to come a lot of things you’re not used to. I can see that now. If you are ever overwhelmed please do not hesitate to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me what you’re feeling. This is new to me, too. I want to be honest with you. Granted there are some things that I do that I would rather keep you away from and I will try my best to. Doll, here you will be taken care of and doted on. You won’t even remember what it was like at that house you lived in. We’ll learn as we go along.” You didn’t realize you needed to hear that. You squeezed Bucky’s hand as well as you could as he had started holding your more firmly than before.

“We’ll learn as we go along.” He squeezed your hand back releasing it.

“Great, now that we’ve talked about that. What do you want to try first?” You smiled as you pointed to some chicken that looked good. Bucky handed it to you and waited until you tried it before he grabbed something as well.

And that’s how your first night went with your fiance. Trying Chinese take-out you had never had and learning how to make yourself at home. Maybe you could get used to this.

#bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!au #marvel imagine #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #platonic steve x reader #marvel #the avengers #mafia!bucky #soft bucky #soft!bucky

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

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Dirty Work 18

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

��How do you like it?” Luciana asks as she spins you to face the mirror.

Your eyes round at your own reflection. You can’t help but lean forward to get a better look at yourself. You never had a haircut like this. Nothing more than the discount trims that were often worse than not just growing it out or your at-home hack job.

“Wow,” is all you can utter.

“I hope that’s a good wow,” she chimes.

“Uh, yes, yes,” you sit back and tear your eyes from the mirror. “Thank you, it’s–”

“Oh, aren’t you so lovely!” Frigga interrupts as her heels click across the salon, “oh, it’s so wonderful. Look at you!”

Before you can react, the chair’s turning again. Frigga sweeps your hands away from under the cape and pulls you to your feet. Luciana moves to undo the long black shroud and swipes it away from your body, littering more hair onto the floor.

“Just a moment,” Luciana girds and brushes the stray bits from the back of your shirt, “there we are.”

“I must say, darling, you are even more stunning than I thought,” she keeps a hold of your right hand, “oh, Eliana, El!” She tweets across the salon, “what about makeup? Hm? Nothing too heavy, maybe a lip and some mascara–”

The platinum blond chuckles, endeared by her demanding client. You see where Laufeyson inherited that; the way the command rather than ask. You could never.

“I’ll take the little fawn,” Eliana agrees, “I have just the thing in mind.” She approaches on her long slender legs, “she has perfect colouring.”

You can’t help but preen at the compliments. You’re not used to them yet, you doubt them. These women are all so put together and gorgeous, surely they’re just being nice. You’re so much the opposite, your like a novelty; a doll for them to dress up.

“Sit,” Eliana points to another chair, “just relax, honey, I’ll take care of you.”

Frigga lets you go and you obey. You climb up into the chair and gasp as the back reclines. Eliana starts by swabbing your face with a cool liquid then pats it dry. Next, she applies a fragrant moisturizer. Her touch is relaxing but strange. You’re not used to anyone touching you.

You close your eyes as she sets to her work. She explains that she’s applying some liner and how to get a little wing at the end. She says you should keep it thin and subtly, then has you check your first eye in the mirror.

“You see, a nice brown, or grey is all you need, black is so harsh,” she shows you the pencil she used.

“Oh, thanks,” you murmur.

“Let’s even that out,” she nudges you back again and you appease her.

As she draws on your other eyelid, you hear a subtle buzz, followed by Frigga’s shrill greeting. She apologises to someone unseen before she carries on her call, heels tapping further and further away. You can hardly focus between her, Eliana’s directions, and the chatter all around you.

“Mmhmm, yes we were thinking of the Garden…” Frigga trails off as the door rings then swiftly blocks out her conversation.

“Mascara, look up,” Eliana directs, again, you obey. There’s nothing else you can do.

As nice as it all is, the hair, the makeup, and all her lovely plans, you can’t help but be embarrassed. Frigga, and Mr. Laufeyson, know you can’t afford all this. It doesn’t feel as much like kindness as it does condescension. As if they are the blessed elite giving you, a noone, with all their privileges.

It’s not a kind gesture, but a statement. You’re so far below them, you don’t even know what you don’t have. If you are to be anywhere near them, you have to fit their mold.

🧹

After the salon, Frigga drags you down the shopping strip. You shy away from the gleaming windows and the faceless mannequins in their luxurious outfits. You couldn’t wear any of it. It wouldn’t look right. Anyone would know in an instant that you don’t belong.

Inside the first shop, you make yourself as small as you can, crossing one arm to cling to the other, folding your shoulders in. You’re frightened of brushing against anything or knocking over that hand display with all the jewelry on it. As you pass a mirror, you nearly trip. You forget for a moment that it’s you staring back.

You shake your head and back away. You don’t like that feeling. You don’t recognize yourself. Even if you never really loved the girl looking back, she was familiar.

“Darling,” Frigga gives you a start as she nears, “how about this? Hm? It’s absolutely adorable.”

She holds up a purple dress; almost like an overall but more refined with three buttons along the right side. She has a plain white blouse behind it. It’s lovely but you don’t know if you like the length. You don’t think you’ve worn a skirt since grade school.

“Oh, it’s… nice.”

“Come on, try it on,” she pleads, “it would look so good on you, darling. With your figure.”

You gulp and blink, looking down at yourself. What figure? The boxy button-up and straight-legged tweed don’t betray much of that. Your body is your body; it’s just there.

“I’ll try,” you relent. It wouldn’t be polite to say no.

“Alright, you take this to a dressing room and I’ll find some shoes,” she shoves the hangers at you, “excuse me,” she turns and waves to the associate who greeted you on entry, “yes, please, she needs a room.”

The woman with ginger curls approaches and you hand over your, or rather, Frigga’s picks. Her name tag reminds you of her introduction; Celia. She guides you into the back to a large room lined with curtained stalls. She takes you to one and hangs the clothing within. You thank her quietly and turn to stare at the lilac fabric.

You sigh and pull the curtain shut. You strip away reluctantly. It’s all so surreal, you don’t want to believe it. You’re wary of the unusual good luck, the unearned generosity. Why would Mr. Laufeyson agree to this? And why would Frigga want to spend time with you, a maid wearing a title beyond her means?

“Darling, are you ready?” Frigga calls through as her heels tap out her arrival.

“Almost,” you call back, shimmying into the purple overall as you try not to rumble the sleeves of the blouse.

You refuse to look at yourself before you face the curtain and brace yourself. You step out as Frigga waits patiently, sitting on one of the leather poufs with a pair of white loafer flats in her lap, little silver bows clasped by the toe.

“Oh my,” she gasps as she rises, “oh darling, that’s… that becomes you. Oh,” she nears and hands you the shoes, “put these on then. Let’s see the whole look.”

Like most things in life, you let her bowl you over. You just go along with what you’re told. You go through the motions numbly, waiting for it to be over.

You bend to slip into the shoes one at a time. Once you stand, she ushers you around to face the mirror. She squeezes your shoulders before playing with your hair, setting you straights as she stands behind you.

“Look at you, darling,” she purrs.

You falter as you see the woman staring back at you. That’s you! You can hardly see yourself under it all. You press your hands to the skirt, wishing for a few more inches, and squeak the soles on the floor as you shift awkwardly in the stiff leather.

“This is it. It suits you so well. Sharp collars, cinched here,” she touches your waist, “I think we have a good start.”

“Um, thanks, but er…”

“You can wear that out. It’s a lovely outfit for lunch,” she insists, “but I’m thinking a few boucle jackets, some matching skirts, a splash of pastel,” she rambles on dreamily, “pearls, of course, maybe some rose gold…”

Your brow pinches over your nose. You don’t know what to do. You can’t say no and even if you were brave enough to, you don’t think she’d hear you. She’s like her son, that way. She only sees what she wants and there’s no denying her.

“Oh, thank you so much for humouring me,” she drawls, “you know, ever since the divorce, I’ve been terribly lonely.” You’re startled by her sudden shift. You blink at her, “my own daughter was never one for the shops, at least, not with me but Sif… she… well, c’est la vie.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Why? Oh, don’t apologise, it is me who should,” she laughs at herself as she leads you back into the shop room, “to you and your own mother. I have accosted her daughter!”

You nod and seal your lips. You feel the pluck in your chest. You distract yourself with a nearby dress; it’s beige and boring.

“I hate to overstep but Loki did mention your father is sick. I’m certain it can’t be easy,” she hums, “it never is. You and your mother–”

“My mother…” you pipe up, voice cracking. You shake off the wave of dizziness and sigh, “my mother is dead.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” she touches her chest, “dear me, I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have–”

“I’m not upset. I never knew her,” you shrug and move on to a more colourful dress. “Just me and dad.”

“Well, it’s nice you have each other,” she says.

“Yeah,” you agree dully.

She’s quiet as she browses beside you, sifting through hangers. Tension ripples between you. Neither of you know what to say.

“How about this?” She holds up a satin blouse in a dainty shade of rose, “it would compliment your complexion.”

“Um, sure,” you let the thickness in the air slake away, “I… I’m not picky.”

“Oh, darling, you are too agreeable,” she teases, “you best not let my son play on that. He could always hear a no or two, yes?”

You nod, uncertain what she means. He’s your boss, you don’t tell him no. He doesn’t ask for your input. He just says and you do. That’s why you’re here. He needed a toy to give his mother, and you’re playing along.

🧹

The restaurant is just as resplendent and upscale as the shops. You try to keep stride with Frigga as she struts up to the open doors, a hostess standing behind a podium just outside as the sunlight beams down in a mid-afternoon haze. She smiles at the elder blonde as she greets her with enthusiasm.

“Good afternoon, we were hoping for a table outside,” Frigga declares.

“For two?” The hostess asks as she looks down at the tablet in front of her.

“A bigger table, please, we have someone joining us,” she answers.

“Great, we can fit you in,” the woman assures and waves you through the small gate of the patio.

She takes you to a table near the colourful flower beds and offers the drink menu. Frigga thanks her and sits as you mimic her. You do your best not to fidget despite the persistent displacement zinging through your nerves. She browses the menu and taps her groomed fingernail on the table.

“Is it too early for Zinfandel?” She wonders.

“Oh, I don’t… know,” you put your own menu down, content with a glass of cranberry juice.

“Or perhaps a white?”

You shrug. You don’t drink. You never have and never really thought of trying it. You rub your cheek and look around, squirming at the other diners in their carefree conversations. What are you doing here?

A new server approaches and takes your orders. Frigga gets her wine and you murmur your request for a glass of juice. You hand over the menus and she checks her slender golden watch.

“Mm, I did say two,” she tuts and takes out her phone.

It’s almost amusing to see someone disappointed in Mr. Laufeyson. To be on the other side of the table. You’re not the one rushing to meet a deadline for once. You twiddle your hands in your lap and peer around at the din.

A table of women sit with cocktails and green salads, gabbing loudly. They are probably your age. Friends. Something you never had. Probably never will.

“Mother,” a voice proclaims across the patio and you wince. It’s familiar but not the timbre you expected. Maybe it’s a coincidence.

“There you are,” Frigga stands and you turn to look over your shoulder at the burly blond. Oh.

You rise too, not wanting to seem rude. Thor hugs his mother and kisses the top of her head, “I was caught behind an accident,” he explains, “oh,” he faces you, “and who… it is the little maid!” He takes you by the shoulders and you flinch as he bends to kiss your cheek, “you remember me, yes?”

You can only nod as you wriggle out of his grip. You resist the urge to wipe your cheek.

“Maid! Do not call her that,” Frigga chides as she sits.

You lower yourself back to your seat. Thor drags out the chair next to you and you try not to show your discomfort. He is almost too wide for the seat as his thigh presses to yours.

“I never got a name, you know? Brother hides everything away,” he sniffs, “so forgive me,” he leans as he tries to look you in the face, “a proper introduction is in order; I am Thor, you recall, hm?”

You nod again and eke out your name. He offers his large hand and you hesitate to take it. You won’t be rude though. His grip swallows your hand up, tight and unyielding. When he finally releases you, you let out a slow breath and stare at the table.

“Speaking of,” Frigga remarks, “he is late.”

“Not surprising, he can hardly be bothered to leave his cave,” Thor scoffs, “what a nice colour.”

He touches the button on your dress and you squeeze your legs together, trying to sidle away without being obvious.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Oh, we had a wonderful day shopping,” Frigga supplies, “she’s so sweet.”

“Ah, yes, I’m certain father will be happy to hear you had a spree,” Thor chortles.

“What he doesn’t know…” Frigga giggles.

The server returns and sets down the stemmed glass of dark wine and your juice. Thor orders rye as you lean forward to sip, the tangy flavour tautens your cheeks. You feel your chair shift and sit back, only to meet the curl of his fingers on the back rest. He doesn’t draw away, his leg splaying wider to touch yours again.

“So we are waiting on him?” Thor challenges and slaps his stomach with his other hand, “I’m starving.”

“We’ll give him another ten,” Frigga girds, “perhaps he is also stuck in traffic.”

“Not to worry,” Thor booms, “we can have fun without him, eh. Probably more.”

“Oh, don’t,” Frigga reproaches, “this is supposed to be a nice family meal, you will not start with him again.”

“It wasn’t me. He’s the one who stormed out–”

“Enough,” she interjects, “we are moving past it.”

“I’ve moved on,” Thor insists, “mother, really, I am not the one who keeps picking fights.”

“Mmm,” Frigga purses her lips, “nor do you discourage them.”

“Me?” Thor feigns innocence, his fingertips brushing the back of your collar, “I only said hello and he went out of his mind.”

“Um,” you sit forward, knocking the table slightly, “er, I… is there a bathroom?”

“Oh, yes, darling,” Frigga turns to you as if only then recalling your presence, “just through the front door to the right.”

“Thank you,” you stand, “sorry, uh, excuse me.”

You turn and scurry off, clutching the sides of the dress to keep it from riding up. Once you get inside, you roll your shoulders, trying to shake off the sensation of his touch. You reach back to tug at your collar.

It’s peculiar to think, but you hope Mr. Laufeyson gets there soon.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dirty work #series #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor #au #maid au

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sbadaboo · 10 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Matched up

(Bada Lee x reader)

C/w : crude language, forced marriage, matchmaking, homophobia is implied, abusive parents, parental abuse (minor violence), drug mentioned, smoking…

A/n : just some warning

-> this story will be a series so don’t worry if the characters seem to hate each other, it won’t stay that way

-> I’d like to remind y’all that English is not my first language and that I make a lot of mistakes (I simply hope it won’t be noticeable or troublesome)

-> This is a fanfiction, none of the events are based on real life events and I even if the characters have the names of real people, they have been used purely for fictional purposes.

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You lighted a cigarette and placed delicately in between your lips, with a quick movement, that perfectly reflected how smoking was a habit for you. You were in your own bubble and with how peaceful you looked, it was complicated to guess the actual atmosphere around you.

Indeed, the music was pounding in your ears and the laughter and screams of the people around you could almost cover the loud music. Almost. But still, you weren’t moving, it was just you and your cigarette and also the two entire bottles of alcohol that you had just finished two minutes earlier. Honestly, you were just drunk and all the people trying to talk to you just seemed so far away.

Oh, how much you loved your life.

Nothing was better than enjoying life with your friends at 3 a.m on your yacht.

You loved your friend.

You loved your yacht.

And you loved being drunk.

And that’s with these enjoyable thoughts that you drift off to sleep, a cigarette still trapped between your lips and a faint smile on your lips.

Hands were on your body and you could hear your name being called. You were being shaken so hard by those hands that you couldn’t help but wake up. As you slowly opened your eyes, the sun filled your vision and all you could do was growl in discomfort. You squinted a little before actually noticing your surroundings. Your friends were all sleeping in different parts of the boat, in positions that didn’t look comfortable at all. Your eyes then followed the hands on your body just for them to fall on the face of your own mom.

“What the fuck are you doing here ?” You asked, your voice rough from your hangover and from how much you screamed the lyrics of some stupid songs yesterday.

“Language !” She squeaked before lifting you up, abruptly from where you were lying, making you grimaced and completely dizzy.

She then started shaking you again with a displeased scowl on her face.

“S-stop… stop !” You exclaimed, removing her hands from your body and taking a step back. You then straightened your clothes and looked her dead in the eyes before asking : “What do you want ?”.

But perhaps the tone didn’t please her because the disgust could be read in her eyes and without a second thought, she slapped your cheek.

Your reaction showed the signs of a routine. You were used to your mom lashing out on you and because of that, you didn’t bat an eye at that slap, you just waited for her to tell you what you did wrong this time.

“How dare you be here instead of at the date I took days planning for you ? ” she screamed. “Your…” she looked around, pointing an accusatory finger at the mess that your friend and you had made the night before. “Your lifestyle is starting to spread among the good families and your chances of getting married keep on decreasing. You little ungrateful brat, you don’t know how much your existence is tarnishing my reputation. ” You listened to her ranting but after a while, you couldn’t help but yawn which she noticed immediately. “I’m going to find a husband to tame you and after that you can say goodbye to partying, getting drunk because you’ll be too busy carrying your husband's kids.”

You tried your hardest to not gagged because what your mother was describing seemed like the deepest part of hell.

You were 24 for fuck’s sake. You had your own business that was making so much profit but all your mom cared about was the fact that you were an unmarried woman enjoying her youth.

“I don’t have time to think about marriage.” You simply answered and to that she slapped you again.

“Don’t raise your voice at me !” She said before turning on her heels, going back from where she came from.

You knew she was up to something and you weren’t that excited to find out what was her new way to ruin your life.

Sighting, you slowly sat on the floor, suddenly too tired to stand.

“Your cheeks must hurt a lot.” You heard a voice mumbling close to you, making you flinched.

“God, you scared me !” You gasped. “When did you wake up ?” You asked Yunjin who was still lying on the floor.

“I mean… your mom screams a lot.” She giggled.

“I know… she’s so annoying.” You answered.

Bada’s life was perfect.

She truly had nothing to complain about. She had started her business 3 years ago and it had flourished so fast that she was known among the most notorious circles. What was her company ? She was the boss of a prosperous matchmaking company for wealthy people.

And she was truly popular. All the affluent figures were passing through her to find a good match with an equivalent prosperity since rich people don’t mix with the plebeian.

There was something that she was so proud of : she never failed to create a good couple where both parties were beneficial for each other.

Today, she had a new meeting with a mother who wanted to find the perfect match for her daughter. Usually, her employees would take care of that but when she realized that the woman was a part of the Shin family. She was such an influential person and if she managed to marry her daughter to a good man, that would make her business skyrocketed.

The woman that entered the place was an elegant middle aged woman. She had a smile that looked friendly but also quite cold. She was an intimidating woman and Bada was really curious about what her daughter looks like.

Bada stood up to bow slightly, indicating the couch in front of her with her hands for the woman to sit. And once the woman was sitting, Bada followed on the other couch.

“I heard that you were capable of miracles.” Said the mother without introducing herself, not that she needed to.

“I’m flattered by your words Mrs. Shin.” Chuckled Bada.

“Those are not my words though. Not yet but I would love to see if the rumors are true.” She said before searching for something in her bag while Bada tried not to show any discomfort by what she had just said. “This is my daughter.” She said showing a photo on her phone.

Bada took a look at it and she found a beautiful girl, smiling widely at the camera. If this was the appearance of her daughter, Bada was sure that there would be no problem to find her a good husband, as long as she was not as rude as her mother.

“Don’t be fooled by her appearance, she’s a debauched woman.” Scoffed Mrs. Shin and Bada couldn’t help but be shocked by the way this woman was talking about her daughter.

“There’s nothing I can’t do.” Bada finally said respectfully. “I would simply need a meeting, and I’m sure I can find someone fit for your daughter.”

“I’ll leave it in your hands then.” Declared the middle aged woman as she stood, leaving the contact information of her daughter on the table.

Bada bowed a last time, feeling slightly uneasy about what was coming.

You laughed loudly as you received a text from your mother saying that she enrolled you in a matchmaking program. You couldn’t believe it, she had actually lost her mind. How dare she put her nose in her daughter's private life like this ?

A few days after this text, you had received an email from “HeartSync” and you assumed it was this matchmaking program your mother was talking about. The mail mentioned a meeting but you didn’t bother reading it entirely and to be polite, you answered simply that you were busy with no time for a meeting. You thought that would be enough but, oh, how wrong were you.

The following day, you received a mail destined to you at your workplace but when you realized where it was coming from you simply tore it apart before throwing it in the trash, not thinking much about it.

It lasted a week. For a whole week, you received mails and letters, always more persistent than the preceding one. It felt like you needed to get a restraining order against this HeartSync company. But at least you were only receiving letters that could be thrown or deleted quickly so you didn’t care that much.

You wanted to slap yourself just for thinking that because you just had brought the worst luck upon yourself.

The following week, while you were working in your office on the floor above the showroom you own, your assistant walked in. For a second, you thought that she was bringing another letter but that was before she opened her mouth :

“Someone is waiting outside and she is saying that you two have to talk. Should I let her in ?”

“Is she someone I know?” You asked instead of answering.

“I don’t think so.” She said after pondering for a second.

You hummed, thinking before allowing your assistant to open the door. If it was someone dangerous then the bodyguard standing outside of your office would step in within a second.

Your assistant nodded before getting out, probably to tell the woman outside to come in. As the door opened a second time, it was not your assistant who entered but a woman who had a slender body and was wearing a nice and fitting black suit. Her hair was black with some hidden blonde hair under the top layer of strands. She was pretty, you thought. But the minute you saw her smile, you changed your mind, she was actually gorgeous even though there was something unsettling about that smile but you simply couldn’t point it out.

With as much respect you could gather, you invite her to sit on the chair in front of your desk.

Bada looked at you up and down, taking notice of your clean and elegant look that she could guess was a Chanel tweed jacket. You seemed to be quite a glamorous and well put together lady which surprised Bada, still having in mind the words that your mother used to describe you.

“My name is Lee Bada.” She said after realizing the silence. “I am the CEO of HeartSync, perhaps you have heard through all the mails that have been sent recently.”

Your smile completely fell off. Of course, she was sent here by your mom. You signed, slightly massaging your temples, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“I don’t think I need to guide you to the door.” You said coldly.

“I guess marriage is a sensitive topic for you. It’s okay, I’ve met a lot of people like you.” Claimed Bada.

“Oh ? And did you invade their workplace with importunate mails too ?” You snickered.

Bada’s smile stayed unwavering but the hand on her thigh clenched slightly. “Well… It must have been quite bothersome and I apologize for that. However, I was simply doing the task that had been assigned by your mother. She really hoped that you could find a good partner and I’m here to help you with that.”

“You misunderstood something.” You answered her. “She doesn’t care if whoever I’m going to marry is a good person or not, she wants wealth and she’s tired of me tarnishing her reputation, that’s why she wants me to find a husband. Unfortunately for her, I couldn’t care less about what she wanted. And you, you’re a monster enriching yourself off of people’s desperation. I know exactly how your little business works. Personally? Good partner? You’re just creating couples with the same social status. Everything is about gaining more money and I’m not interested in that.”

Bada wouldn’t say that you were wrong. Actually, you were absolutely right. Bada’s job could be quite awful and she knew that what she was doing was more of a business contract than genuine love but how could you blame her, the matchmaking industry was giving her so much profit.

“Your mother thought that you would say that.” Eventually said Bada. “And she gave me a list of insults and threats to use to convince you.” She laughed a little. “However, that’s not really how I work. I want what is the best for my clients. It is true that a wedding is a way of improving wealth but what we prioritize is the human relationship. Allowing a matchmaking company to do the work will help you save time in your research. ”

What she said sounded like a business proposal and it was boring you to death.

“It is also important to say that we won’t throw you into a date so abruptly. Every month, we organized social gatherings for single people. Most of the time, the parents are present which helps us create bonds among the family and set up the future dates with the potential match approved by the family.”

This, however, peaked your attention. Your mom would be present at this social gathering? You tried to hide your mischievous smile as you quickly straightened your back.

“Wow ! Perhaps I misjudged your matchmaking company or whatever. When would that social gathering be held?” You asked.

“This weekend.” She replied.

“I see. Then I will see you there.” You responded, standing up, forcing Bada to stand up too, by politeness. You took her hand into yours, shaking it, making her spurt out a surprised noise. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

And after you shoved her outside, making her completely overtaken by the situation but if her convicting speech actually worked then she could go back to work, the mind appeased. Little did she know that everything would go downhill this weekend because of you.

Bada spent the last few days working on this social gathering. Food, decorations, people. Everything had to be perfect for Mrs. Shin. It was a chance that she couldn’t let pass. If she managed to have the Shin family on her success list then everyone would rush to her company. It was her chance to become bigger and to destroy all competition.

She was glad the description that Mrs. Shin had made was completely wrong. Her daughter was everything but a debauched woman. You owned a showroom that was the place a lot of high end women were spending their time and money. You were really elegant but eventually, she noticed that you and your mother had the same witty attitude. But nothing was impossible for Bada, she was going to find the perfect man for you.

When the day finally came, Bada was feeling way more stressed than she ever had. Her hands were sweaty and she tried her best not to wipe them on her dress. For now, she looked quite put together with her black silk dress.

The room was already full of people but Mrs. Shin and her mother were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they had found someone else? She thought. Was her service not good enough? Where had she messed up ? Perhaps you didn’t like how she talked to you the other day? She tried not to show her nervousness by greeting all the people present.

Fortunately, she saw the face of Mrs. Shin after an hour and she rushed to greet Mrs. Shin but she halted after taking a look at her face. She looked really displeased and Bada wasn’t sure what had angered her, but looking nervous couldn’t be an option and because of that, she walked up to her, bowing respectfully.

“I’m glad to see you here.” Said Bada, looking around, a little bit confused. “But where is your daughter?”

“She’s coming.” She snarled.

And coming, you were. You walked in like you owned the place and Bada should be offended by that, because she was the one actually owning the place. But how could she, when she was so captivated by your looks. You were radiating confidence, which she was not in that moment, making her feel self conscious about herself. While she was pretending to have it, you were not acting. However, her awe quickly disappeared when she realized why your mother was making that face. You were wearing a black dress, a really pretty dress but also a very short one, clearly not the type of dress you were expecting to see in a high end social gathering where sophistication was required. The dress had a lace corset integrated that made your bust parts see through. It was indecent. That was the only word that could describe this outfit.

She walked up to her mom, standing right behind her to bow slightly at you but on your face, no sign of respect could be seen.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you again,hm…” she started, trailing off at the end of her sentence.

“Lee Bada.” Reminded the matchmaker.

“Yes ! That’s your name.” You giggled, knowing it would annoy your mother. And you were right, you felt her glare piercing your skin. You looked elsewhere to hide your smile and you noticed something interesting. “Well if you’ll excuse me, I would love to go around and say hi.”

Bada looked pleased to know that you were going to get involved in this social gathering however, your mother was frowning her eyebrows like she knew your polite act was nothing but a facade.

You saw someone in the distance that you recognised right away and quickly excused yourself to go stand by his side, knowing that it would surprise him.

“ Are you looking for a wife?” You asked from behind and when he turned around, his dull eyes suddenly sparkled.

“No fucking way, you’re here too ?” Replied Wonbin, a smile on his lips.

“Unfortunately.” You answered, standing next to him. “But it’s more surprising to see you here. How did your parents convince you?”

“They said that if I didn’t come, they would make me go back to their house to live with them.” Sighed Wonbin.

“I’m so glad my mom has not resorted to that yet. That’s the most terrifying threat ever.”

Wonbin could only nod in agreement. He wishes he was like and could find a way to emancipate himself from his family but starting business was not as easy as it used to be. Until now, he had been forced to live off his family allowance and it was hell. Seeing you here was the best gift the universe could offer.

“But why are you here?” He asked after pondering. “It’s not like your mother has something she can use against you since you’re totally independent from her.”

“I’m not here to look for a husband,”you answered truthfully. “I want to make sure my mom will never pay a matchmaker for me.”

Wonbin seemed hooked by what you just said and you two started a conversation about how parents should leave their adult children alone and not force them to get married.

Bada looked at you two from afar and she couldn’t be happier. If you managed to sympathize with someone, it meant that this event was a total success. The stress finally left her body for a few minutes but of course, something had to go wrong.

Bada felt a presence in her back and she quickly turned around to find Mrs. Shin with a scowl on her face.

“Stop these two from talking.” She growled.

“Hm…why ?” Asked Bada, since she couldn’t understand what was wrong.

“That’s one of her friends.” She responded, annoyed. “It’s one of her drinking partners. I refuse for them to be seen together. It will just destroy her image even more. Keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Bada quickly understood and she walked up to you, clasping her hands together.

Coming back to you. You were still talking vividly with Wonbin, letting him keep you up with the recent gossip.

“You know who else has been dragged here ?” He asked with a playful smile.

“Don’t make me guess. Tell me.” You declared, frowning a little.

“Well… first it seems that you two had the same dress code because she’s wearing a really sluty dress too.”

You pondered for a while, trying to think of which one of your friends had as horrible parents as you and Wonbin. But you didn’t have time to actually get the answers out of Wonbin because you felt someone coming to your side.

Lee Bada was here, wearing her usual smile. “Mr. Park, if you will excuse us. There’s some people who would like to meet Ms. Shin.”

You faked a whine, looking at Wonbin with pleading eyes and he answered by lifting his hand, reaching for you but you were too far. Once you guys were done with your dramatic act, you turned to Bada who was still smiling at you. You had to lift your head a little to make sure you were looking at the woman in her eyes since she was at least a head taller than you.

You finally realised why Bada was so unsettling for you. It was a customer smile and they were actually nothing genuine about it. Bada’s smile was as fake as the relationship she was creating. She was not different from the other rich people in your life. You still followed her to where she was bringing you and of course, you walked up to some insignificant man who was only looking at your breast.

This conversation was the most boring thing you had done this evening. After the mas started to talk about his income, you completely stopped responding, letting Bada, who didn’t seem to want to leave your side, filling up the gaps.

After fifteen minutes of hell, you noticed someone with a really short red dress walking in front of you and winking at you. It pass unnoticed by the two talking in front of you but you noticed it right away.

“Im going to the bathroom.” You murmured in Bada’s ear before going immediately not letting her stopping you.

Bada left her gaze lingering on you before going back to her boring conversation with this guy (she had already forgot his name).

You entered the bathroom, full of people, and went ponding right away on one of the stalls doors where you could see shoes that you recognised. The women in the bathroom quickly walked away, outraged by such a display of rudeness.

You didn’t care and when the door unlocked and you saw the woman who had walked in front of you earlier, you smiled. At first Wonyoung looked pissed but when she realised who it was, she giggled, reassured.

“You have no manners.” She exhaled, walking past you to the sink and washing her hands. You watched as Wonyoung dried her hands and then proceeded to apply a new layer of lipstick. Making sure that no one was watching, you got something out of your bag and when Wonyoung noticed what it was, her eyes widened. “Are you suicidal? Why do you have that here?”

She tried to take what eas in your hands but you were quicker, moving the little plastic bag to your other hand.

“Don’t you want to have a little party with me?” You asked, feeling playful and agitating the little container.

“You’re not serious right now?” She huffed.

“I’m dead serious but I’m not crazy enough to do weed in this public place.” You said putting the weed sack in your bag. “However, when we’ll be out of here, you, Wonbin and me…” you said, letting the end of your sentence unsaid, knowing that she would immediately understand.

“You don’t know how much I would love that.” She mumbled. “But my parents are here and I can’t go anywhere untill I have a wedding contract or something.” She said, apologetically.

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

She tilted her head in confusion and you approached your mouth near her ear to murmur something that made her giggle immediately.

“Let’s do that !”she exclaimed, already exiting the bathroom, feeling excited. You walked behind her, letting your gaze admiring her dress that was completely in lace. “Stop looking at my ass.” She said like she could see you.

“I can’t help it, your dress is even shorter than mine.” You uttered in awe which makes her laugh.

As you got back in the main hall, you immediately went to the bar where everyone could see you. You walked past your mother and Bada who was probably blaming the young woman who had letting you escape. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do to her. Almost. It’s not like Bada cared about you that much, you were sure it wouldn’t hurt her.

“Hm… I think we need to grab everyone attention.” You whispered to Wonyoung.

“Don’t worry. I got it.” She whispered back.

She looked at the bar behind her and she then dropped a tray of glasses on the floor, which resonated loudly in the room making everyone look in this way. She didn’t loose a second, she quickly grabbed your cheek before kissing you passionately. It didn’t even catch you off guard since you had planned that, you kissed her back with as much passion you could gather.

Shocked gasps quickly filled the room and even the classical music stopped playing. Everyone was looking at the two women kissing, offended by such an act. It seemed that only Wonbin was appreciating the show, sipping slowly his champagne.

Your mom was the first to move, wanting to separate you two quickly and save a little bit of her reputation but Bada had longer leg and she grabbed your arm quicker. She was dragging you outside, you realised.

“I’ll see you tonight, my love !” You shouted at Wonyoung.

“I already miss your lips !” She screamed back, laughing. You saw her giving a head tilt to Wonbin who answered with a thumbs up.

You were before the exiting doors and finally Bada let go of your arm, violently.

“What the fuck.” She muttered but you heard it and it made you snicker. So this woman wasn’t as stiff as she pretended to be. “W-why would you that ?” She asked in desbelief.

“Do what?” You responded, innocently.

“You know !” She shouted, her cheeks red, clearly embarrassed to say that out loud. “I thought you agreed to come here. I thought it was okay.”

“Then you’re probably stupider than you look.” You claimed, smiling.

“Excuse me?” She huffed, clearly offended by your words but she didn’t have time to retort anything since your mon emerged from the hall, looking angrier than usual.

Your mother looked at you with such a disappointed and disdain look that you almost felt bad. Almost and then you remembered that you mom insisted on you being here and she bro that on herself.

She sighed, she wanted to scream at you but you were still in public and looking at you disgusted her so much. She just decided to give up.

“Just go.” She declared and you cheered loudly, making her even more angry but you didn’t care, you were finally free.

You quickly exited the place, leaving the two women alone.

As soon as Mrs. Shin gaze met Bada’s, the young woman bowed trembling.

“I deeply apologise…” she whispered but she was quickly cut off.

“No need. I shouldn’t have trusted you to do the impossible. You’re pathetic company has way more fame than needed. I was fooled by everyone’s opinion, you’re just another new money person thinking you can scam the high end world. Let me tell you something, with my words, I give you a week before you go bankrupt.”

Bada took a little time to process the threat and she realised how much those words coukd

impact her. She quickly readjusted herself and grappled Mrs. Shin hands, who, disguised, freed herself immediately.

“Please give me another chance ! I did a mistake but it won’t happen anymore.” Shouted Bada but Mrs. Shin wasn’t listening and made her way to the exit. “Please give me a month ! Just a month and you daughter will be married.”

This, however, grabbed her attention. She turned around, letting her cold gaze meeting Bada’s pleading eyes.

“You’ll find her a husband ?” She asked.

“I manage a marital company. It’s my job to create marriage.”

Mrs. Shin let the offer pondering in her mind before nodding, giving Bada a last chance.

“You have a month.” She reminded the woman.

“I won’t disappoint you.” She murmured, closing her eyes, feeling reassured.

Wow you guys read all of that •o•!!

I hoped you liked this first chapter and I’m impatient to write way more.

(I don’t have a tag list yet so if you wan to be notified every time I post please leave me a comment !!)

#bada lee #bada x reader #fanfic #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 x reader #bada lee fic #bada lee x reader #fanfiction

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legitalicat · 7 months ago

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Forged From Death - Sihtric Kjartansson x Widow!Reader

An: Thank you so much @foxyanon for the request and officially turning me into a Sihtric girl. I hope this is everything you wanted. And @zaldritzosrose thank you for creating the header you are amazing!

Masterlist here!

Separate from the normal CW section for a special attention. This is going to be dark as reader thinks cruelty of her husband, Sigefrid, and her father towards those around them. No explicit examples of violence or abuse. I really was just trying to capture emotions without talking of direct acts.

CW: Language, political marriage really, Sigefrid is not a good man, neither was reader's father, warlord husband and father, scared child, character death, P IN V sex, fingering, dirty talk, gets quite dirty lots of smut, breeding kink, vague talks of pregnancy kink, she/her pronouns, use of you, reader not really described or named, FLUFFY, Stepdad!Sihtric, found family trope, soulmates trope kinda, love and lust and first sight

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x reader

Word Count: 6.2k

You knew what you were. A bargaining chip, a prize. Something akin to a crown, symbolizing power. With your own father being a man who bargained in fear rather than respect, you weren’t surprised when your husband was the same.

Sigefrid Thurglison, rather quickly upon marrying you, decided his family’s wealth and power would be found in England. So, you sailed along with him and his brother to find this for yourselves. You, the dutiful wife, who knows your fate would be worse had you denied your father’s arrangement. You, who disappointed your father from birth by just being a daughter, who he could only use as a piece in his games but never actually respect. You, who married a man just like him.

You remained silent throughout. You played your part well, perhaps too well. Your name was used as a way to remind men of the force your husband could bring upon England. Even if they weren’t directly familiar with your father, they remembered the tales their fathers spoke to them, and they bowed at Sigefrid and Erik’s feet.

Until they met a man by the name of Uhtred. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to die or if he was just too stupid to realize that death was a very real possibility. But he was quick to anger your husband and his brother through way of opposition. And, apparently, Uhtred did not heed warnings well. He was unconcerned with the possibility of your father showing up.

“If he wanted England, he would be here,” said a voice from behind Uhtred upon your first meeting. You looked for the source. When you saw the man, you were certain your heart stopped for a moment.

You had seen beauty before. Land, sky, men, women, all of which held a certain captivating air about them. And yet there had been nothing as beautiful as the man who stood before you. You heard Uhtred refer to him as Sihtric, and your eyes made their way over his form. From his brown hair, to his striking yet mismatched eyes, over the angles of his face, and the swell of his muscles that already could be seen straining against the silver bands he wore, there was no part of him you felt was not hand crafted by Freyja herself to be the perfect embodiment of everything she represented.

And Sihtric noticed you. By the gods, did he notice you. You were pretty, prettier than any woman he had ever seen. He couldn’t tell what started swelling faster when he saw you looking back at him and smile: his cock or his heart.

That was the day he swore he would have you.

When he saw you again, it had been over three years. He hadn’t gone a day without thinking of you if he were honest. He was waiting so he could have his chance with you. Those few moments of seeing you was what carried him through the years. You were the face he saw with every victory and every stroke of his cock.

He only wishes it were under better circumstances.

You still resided in the fortress after Sigefrid laid dead on the ground. You knew the only way any of this would end would be if Sigefrid died. And you knew, as you listened to the herd of feet approach the room you were hidden in, that he had.

Sihtric was the first in the room. He knew that Sigefrid would never leave you far behind. It was unfortunate such a man had the honor of being your first husband. Sihtric, though, was perfectly fine being your last.

A feeling that did not waver when he saw you holding a small child close to your body. There was a fear in both of you, but you had the rage of a mother in your eyes. He could see it, and he wanted you more for it.

“He is dead?” you asked Sihtric as others, Uhtred and another you vaguely recognized, came into the room.

Despite having only seen him once, you knew Sihtric could be trusted. You couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was lust clouding your judgement. Perhaps it was a sign. Or maybe you were being stupid and crazy and you would only end up right back where you have been your whole life.

But, his eyes made you feel like that would never be the case again.

“Aye,” he said to you. “How old?” He nodded towards your child, your daughter, who looked at him in fear. He held up his arm, wordlessly keeping Uhtred and the other man from coming any closer.

“Four. She was born here, before we were sent away,” you told him truthfully.

“Her name?” he asked you. He continuously looked between your faces, barely capable of holding himself in place and not taking you in his arms.

“Astra.”

He said nothing else to you for the moment, instead crouching down to be on the same level as your daughter. She clung to you tightly.

“Hello, Astra. Are you hurt?” he said quietly to her. In silence, she shook her head. “Is your mother?”

“Mama is safe, I am safe,” she whispered.

It caused your heart to ache when you heard her repeat the words you told her when everything got quiet. Had you never left England, you would’ve been able to leave Sigefrid. You knew you would have had somewhere to take Astra to keep her safe from him. But when your husband was banished, he swore he would return with your father, and you knew better than to wait around for that. Your only saving grace now was that your father had died before you got back to Norway.

“Would you like to leave here? You and your ma can come with me, if you would like.”

Astra looked up at you, tears in her eyes as they had been all day. You knew that while Sigefrid had never touched either of you, he had given you both more than enough reason to be fearful. And you wanted so badly to make sure she never had to live with this fear again.

Your daughter looked to him and nodded silently. He extended his arms towards her slowly.

“Come then, little one. I will get you out of here,” he said softly. Astra, who had never trusted anyone but you, walked directly into his arms.

The sight of his arms wrapping themselves around her small body caused your heart to ache. It was something you had never thought to wish for, your daughter being in the arms of someone but you. Now you could only pray that this was her new normal.

“I’ve got you little one,” he whispered and stood up, holding her close. “I want you to close your eyes tight and put your forehead against my cheek until I tell you. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded. You watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, her whole face squinting up. Her forehead rested perfectly against his cheek, her brown hair matching his in a shocking way. It almost felt as she was made of him.

“You are as pretty as your ma, brave just like her too,” he told her. You were surprised when you heard her giggle. He looked to you. “Take my arm, Lady. “

You did as he said, stepping closer to him and holding tightly to his arm. He made sure you were not questioned or stopped as he led you out of the fortress. He already had stepped in as your protector and you barely knew him.

When you were outside the walls and far from the carnage, Sihtric finally stopped. You watched as he sat Astra down to stand on her own. He told her it was safe to open her eyes, and she looked relieved when she opened them and saw you.

“Lord,” Sihtric said as he saw Uhtred approach. He instinctually moved to stand between you both.

“Are more men following him?” Uhtred asked you, looking at you over Sihtric’s shoulder. His hand remained on his axe, though he did not unsheathe it.

“He was the last of them,” you told him. And that was the truth. Any men that hadn’t abandoned him before this battle laid dead.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” he asked.

You knew the truth of what he was asking. You were a widow now. Your husband’s family were meant to take care of you now, and your daughter. But Sigefrid was the last of his family, having killed his own brother during his last rampage. Their father had long since been dead and had no living brothers.

“No, Lord,” you told him. “He had no surviving family. And my own father died two winters ago. I was the only child.”

He looked past you to Astra. You could see in his eyes he did not trust you. And you did not trust him. You could not find it in you to trust anyone but Sihtric. But good men, which you ultimately believed Uhtred to be, did not harm little girls.

“You may come with me and my men, then. Until you find other…arrangements,” he said gruffly.

It was three and a half months when you began to worry about your future. You thought of Astra and worried endlessly for her. Her father’s reputation would stain her future forever, you feared. You had no way to provide for her truly. Should your fears be proven true, you wouldn’t even be able to arrange a proper marriage for her when the time would come.

But, you thought perhaps you were worrying too much for Astra. You stood in Uhtred’s hall, watching as Sihtric, Osferth, Finan, and Uhtred spoke, Astra settled peacefully on Sihtric’s lap. She was loved so deeply by Sihtric, and by extension the men he fought beside, one could be forgiven for thinking he was her father. Interestingly enough, she looked more like Sihtric than she ever did Sigefrid.

Uhtred looked to you and nodded, having noticed your presence for the first time. You two had a somewhat uneasy trust in each other now. Well, trust that if either of you betrayed Sihtric, or the others, the other would respond with a blade. And that seemed to make you friends.

Sihtric noticed you, immediately lighting up when he looked at you. He beckoned you to him, to Astra, the both of them holding your whole heart.

You were insane, you knew it. But from the moment you saw him those years ago, you loved him. He was obvious. You would burn down all of England for him if he were to ask.

He had never done anything but protected you and Astra from the very first moment. The day Sigefrid died, it could’ve been so much worse for her. But Sihtric was the one to make sure that no bad ever touched her since he met her.

It was one of many ways that everyone knew you two would find your way to each other. Sihtric would give everything for and to you. As far as he was concerned, the universe began and ended in you and at your feet he would worship. And there had never been a moment in which you doubted his devotion to you or Astra.

“Go say hello to your ma, little one,” Sihtric said softly to Astra.

“Okay, papa,” she giggled as she crawled off his lap while you knelt down.

It was not the first time she had referred to him as such, but it touched your soul every time you heard it. Sihtric looked to you immediately to make sure you did not think to correct her. He was not deluding himself into thinking his presence in Astra’s life could erase all the bad. But he knew, without a doubt, that she was his. From the moment he first held her in his arms, she was his girl and there was no argument he would listen to.

Your darling girl ran into your waiting arms. She was giggling, as she had done since your arrival in Coccham. She was happier than she had ever been. She felt more peaceful.

“Mama, mama, papa is making me an axe,” she told you excitedly.

“Oh is he?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked up to Sihtric. He blushed brightly, especially when Uhtred and Finan began to tease him for being in trouble.

“M-my love, I only,” he said, beginning to attempt an explanation.

“She will need an axe if she is going to be on my shield wall one day,” Uhtred told you, grinning from ear to ear. He stood from his seat, drumming a bit on the table, before he jogged over to you and Astra. “And if there is one thing my Little Star will be it is an excellent warrior.”

You watched as Uhtred picked her up and put her on his shoulders. She squealed and giggled until she was settled on her perch.

“If you are teaching her, then I consider myself lucky to have such a warrior in my home,” you said, standing, while grinning ear to ear. “Perhaps she will be knowledgeable enough to teach our next child.” You looked directly at Sihtric as you said ‘our’.

“Our next ten,” he said back to you. He was still blushing a bit, but he enjoyed these moments.

“And you shall birth them all? If it is up to me, you get five,” you said to him.

“You would give me five more children?” he asked excitedly. You could practically see him buzzing.

“Should you decide to take me as your wife,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging to him as you walked over to the table he sat at.

Once you were in his reach, his arm wrapped around you, hand resting on your hip. There was no hesitation from either of you as Sihtric pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your arms around him.

At first, you had withheld from such public affection. You were only a few months a widow, you felt as though there was some need to respect your loss. But, when your husband had been so cruel to everyone around him and Sihtric was such a soft presence, you lasted perhaps a week before you made your affections clear.

“You honor me, my love,” he said softly. “To think you have already blessed me with one, and are willing to bless me with more. One would be a fool to deny the chance to be your husband.”

You kissed his cheek. It was truly simple with him. There was no darkness. Only love and warmth flowed between you both.

“You will make sure she is careful?” you asked him, bringing the conversation back to the idea of Astra getting an axe.

“Of course, my love,” he confirmed to you. “You know nothing means more to me than the safety of my girls.”

It was less than a month later that you were married. Sihtric made sure it was everything you dreamt of it, everything you were not afforded the first time around. He was watching as you danced with Astra. He loved both of you more than anyone had loved two people.

“Congratulations,” Uhtred said as he sat next to Sihtric. “You will make a fine husband.”

“Thank you, Lord,” he said, smiling. His eyes went between you and Uhtred rapidly, wanting to make sure you never disappeared.

“I see our Little Star got a hold of your hair,” Uhtred smirked as he grabbed a drink. Sihtric’s hand moved to his head, where there was a tiny braid in his hair.

“There is no finer braider in all of England,” he said. “Finan has offered to keep her tonight.”

“Did he tell you Osferth and I were asked to come too?” Uhtred chuckled.

“He did, Lord,” Sihtric laughed, taking a drink of his ale. He sat the cup down, looking to his Lord, his friend. “I want her to be mine.”

“She already is,” Uhtred said. “Nobody will deny that.”

“No, I mean....I want Astra to be just as the children of my blood. I want her to inherit, I want to be responsible for her. Entirely. And should she and my wife allow, I want to give her my name,” Sihtric said.

Uhtred could see a determination on his friend’s face that he had not quite seen before. It shone through in a burning heat. He lived for the family he had with you now. No oath superseded his oath to the two of you, and none ever would.

“Should they wish it, it is done. I will make it known Astra is to be no different than any child of your blood,” he promised his friend. “Now, go dance with your wife. Take her to bed. We will keep our Little Star.”

With a clap on the shoulder, Sihtric stood from the table and began to work his way through crowd to you. You were twirling Astra around, making her laugh and laugh. He could not imagine a more perfect life for himself.

Sihtric chuckled when Astra noticed him and ran into his legs. He knew she was his. She was meant to be his daughter. He could not be bothered by something as trivial as blood. He, of all people, knew family was not limited to blood. Family was created by love, and he loved her enough to create a universe.

Then there was you, his dear wife. He thought you looked stunning in your dress, the deep red color feeling like the physical representation of his love for you. You were more than he could have ever dreamed of. All of his life, he wanted to be what his father wasn’t. A good, honorable man who stayed for his family and loved his wife. A man worthy of love and respect.

And he realized that’s exactly how you saw him.

“Hello, my love,” you said to him when you saw him.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked teasingly, picking Astra up when she stopped dancing.

“Yes, my love. Though, perhaps you would much prefer my husband,” you said, smirking.

“Aye. After all, I will never call you anything but my wife again,” he said and rubbed his nose against Astra’s cheek.

“Hehe papa,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “I love you.”

Sihtric could feel his heart skip a beat. She had called him papa for months at this point, that was no surprise. But, Astra had not told him she loved him. And there was something so precious about hearing it.

“I love you, little one,” he said softly, pressing his lips against her forehead.

You smiled at the two of them. You wanted to hold this moment in your mind for the rest of your life. Capture it, freeze it for all of eternity, something you could hold onto and remember love.

“Now little one, Uncle Finan is excited to start your time together. Your ma and I will see you in the morning,” he told her as he sat her down.

“UNCLE FINAN I AM COMING!” Astra shouted as she ran off through the crowd.

Every person parted to let her through, allowing your eyes to follow her path to Finan. She was loved by most any in town. Her personality was loud and bright enough so that everyone knew her. Of course, it helped that she was always right by your side, and you were always close to Sihtric.

And you knew, at least within the confines of the town walls, she was safe to move about. Most everyone would agree that harming a child is egregious. Everyone agreed that harming your child was the fastest way to ensure a brutal death by the hands of Sihtric, and a quick one by Uhtred and Finan. Even Osferth, sweet Osferth, would pray for his God’s forgiveness as he took the life of anyone who would lay a finger on Astra. She was loved, she was safe. For the first time in her life she did not flinch when she was more than an inch from your skirts.

“Being my wife suits you,” Sihtric told you, drawing your eyes from Finan and Astra to him.

He looked at you with pure adoration. He worshipped you. Made certain that he loved you enough to make the bad parts of your life feel like another lifetime.

“Just as being my husband suits you,” you said to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you tightly to him. He breathed you in, feeling overwhelmed by you. Everything about you was intoxicating to him. From your beauty, the way you smelled, the way your body pressed against his own, there was nothing that could dampen his desire of you.

“Then it seems we are in agreement,” he said.

“That it does,” you said softly, leaning forward slightly. Your lips hovered next to his ear. “And I think I would like to feel my husband.”

You felt him shudder with your words, the unmistakable hardness of his erection beginning to dig into you. It had not been difficult to get him excited these last months. Even after both of you had agreed to wait until you were married, you had enjoyed riling him up before he returned to his own home.

“I have dreamt of this night for years,” he muttered to you. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were mine. I dreamt of my cock sinking deep into you for hours on end.”

It was your turn now for a shiver down your spine. There was no part of you that could deny dreaming of the same thing for just as long. In the years trying to exist outside of England, the nights where you went to bed amidst yells and cheers during another fight to the death for Sigefrid’s amusement, you dreamt of his mismatched eyes. Of his sharp beauty. Of a life you now got to share with him.

You weren’t sure who broke away first between the two of you, but it wasn’t long before you were walking down the streets to his, no your, home. The home you would grow old together in, gods be good. And the two of you couldn’t keep from stopping every few feet, pulling the other for a deep, passionate kiss.

When you finally arrived at the house, he picked you up and carried you over the threshold. In fact, he did not put you down until he could place you on the bed. You had barely recognized that you were laying on it before he was hovering over you, repeatedly kissing your neck.

“Such a pretty wife,” he muttered with every kiss. You put your head back to expose more of your sensitive skin. “Have been blessed, haven’t I? Blessed by the gods to be given such a pretty wife.”

You placed a hand on the bag of his head and gripped his hair firmly. Despite the pull on his hair, you only brought him closer into you. You could feel him starting to grind himself against your thigh, desperately looking for some relief.

“Fuck, Sihtric,” you moaned out. But when his name left your lips, he nipped at your neck quickly. It took you by surprise, causing a quiet squeak to escape you.

“Be a good, pretty wife and do not use my name tonight,” he whispered in your ear.

“Such a demanding husband I have,” you teased. “So desperate to fuck me he has to rut against me like an animal.”

He groaned into your neck at your words, his right hand beginning to fumble with the fastenings of your dress. You ignored the shaking of your own hands, your need of Sihtric outweighing your nerves. This was meant to be, after all. And you had faith it would be perfect.

“Use your mouth for better things and perhaps I will let you fuck a child into me tonight,” you told him. This time it was not a groan, but a quiet whimper, that left his lips. His fingers struggled with undressing you, the way it was held to your body being more complicated than he had thought.

He pulled back entirely, sitting up on his knees as he began reaching for the knife he carried. He cut the fabric of your dress away from your body. You stared at him, eyes heavy with lust.

“Nothing but a dress, you can replace it,” he told you. You could only nod at him as he helped remove the material away completely. After a moment, the tattered remains of the dress and his knife fell together to the floor, just as quickly forgotten.

He stared at your naked form. He could not help it, truly. Everything about you was perfect for him. He leaned forward and kissed you once more, before his lips started trailing down your body. Along your jawline, down your neck, over your collarbone. He only took pause when he got to your breasts. Sihtric’s left hand began pawing at one while his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You moaned quietly as he sucked while massaging your soft flesh. Your eyes fluttered shut, whimpering every time he decided to graze your nipple with his teeth. You wanted to beg him to give you more, to pleasure your aching cunt.

He groaned to himself before pulling away from your breasts entirely, muttering a promise he would play with them more. You almost started to laugh, only for it to catch in your throat when his fingers found your slick. He smirked down at you.

“You must really enjoy this, wife,” he whispered teasingly. His fingers ran up and down your folds, deliberate in their light touching of your pearl.

“Of course, I have only dreamt of you as my husband a few dozen times now,” you told him. Your thighs trembled a bit as you resisted the urge to buck your hips into his hand.

He hummed quietly as he allowed his finger to sink into you. While you became a whimpering mess, he just slowly thrust his finger in and out. Never had you known such bliss. His finger felt thicker than you had anticipated.

“What is it, pretty wife? Cannot think through your pleasure?” he asked you, looking directly into your eyes.

Your resolve finally broke. With a moan, you allowed your hips to move to meet his hand. All you could think of was chasing your pleasure with him.

“You say I am demanding, but you are so needy,” he cooed. He pushed another finger into you, curling his fingers slightly with every thrust of them. His touch was perfectly focused on the spongy spot inside you.

“Love, my love, please, fuck, please,” you moaned. You couldn’t finish a single thought as you felt a band tightening behind your navel.

You had only experienced such a feeling with yourself. Pleasure had never been at the forefront of your life. Until now, at least, since Sihtric seemed determined to make you reach that point. He increased the speed of his fingers movements.

“Cum for me,” he practically demanded of you. His voice was quiet, meant only for your ears, but forceful in nature. “And then I’ll give you my cock. Such a good girl, you deserve it. Don’t you, my love?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered. You gripped the furs under you tightly, the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

“Deserve my cock, deserve my love. You have both, entirely, you understand?” he asked you, his thumb barely ghosting against your pearl.

“Yes, fuck, my love, my husband,” you whined pathetically. It seemed to please him, at least enough.

His thumb finally rested against the bundle of nerves, rubbing circles in time with every thrust of his fingers. The band finally snapped as you cried out, back arching off the bed. A jumbled mess of his name, husband, love, and expletives left your tongue.

You were able to watch as Sihtric removed his touch from you entirely. He brought his fingers to his lips before he sucked them clean, earning another whimper from you. And then you got to watch him undress, his shirt and pants being flung away in a matter of moments.

You weren’t entirely sure which of the gods had blessed you, but you thanked everyone of them when Sihtric stood naked before you. His toned chest and stomach was near flawless, save for a few scars earned in battle. The Thor’s hammer pendant rested against his taut chest. Your gaze washed over the grooves of his form, able to count each muscle, until they finally landed on his cock.

He was blessed even then. His heavy cock bobbed with need. When his eyes caught yours, he smirked at your hungry gaze. He was long and thick enough to make you question just how exactly you were meant to take him in entirely.

Sihtric couldn’t hide his smirk when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled your body closer to his. He groaned softly as his cock now rested against you, already collecting your slick.

“I love you,” he said to you, his voice softer than the cocky look etched on his face would have you expect.

You tried to stutter out some response before he started rubbing himself against you. Anytime the head brushed against your pearl, the feeling stole your words and sent shockwaves through your body. There was a pride he felt at already having you responding like this before having even fucked you.

“I love…fuck, fuck me, fuck I love you,” you finally managed to get out.

“Good girl, using your words,” he cooed. He moved his cock to start pressing against your entrance. “Are you going to keep being a good girl, love?”

“Yes,” you said weakly and nodded

He smiled at you. He grabbed your leg gently, hooking it on his arm, as he leaned down to bring his face closer to you. Your knee pressed against your chest while he kissed you. You melted into his kiss, your hands releasing the furs you laid up on to hold his face gently.

Your kiss only ended on account of the way he couldn’t hold back his whines and whimpers when he pushed into you. He couldn’t help the way your name left him when you took half of him without issue.

He pulled himself away to look down at your face. After a moment, he looked between your bodies and groaned when he saw you impaled on his cock.

“Fuck, such a pretty wife I have,” he muttered. “You ready for more, my love?” he asked when he reconnected your gaze.

“Yes,” you told him, nodding eagerly.

He groaned as he moved his hips forward. It was pure bliss for both of you. His cock throbbed with every thrust, your walls clenching tightly around him. Every nerve ending in both of you felt like it was on fire as your connection only grew. Sihtric watched you every second, trying to make sure it was as mind blowing for you as it was for him.

His speed increased desperately. He needed more, you needed more. Your hands roamed his body, your moans filling his ears like a beautiful song. The head of his cock kept moving against the spongy spot inside, making your thighs tremble once again.

You watched him as he thrust into you. His pendant and your breasts moved in time with his thrusts, captivating him. You could see him teetering the line of control and instinct. He wanted this to be sweet for you, to be perfect, everything you deserved. He has heard enough stories of your life to know you deserved more than to once again be used for someone else’s pleasure.

“Such a good husband already,” you told him, gripping his biceps. His gaze softened when you spoke, his hips stuttering a bit. “We have all our lives for you to make me scream your name in pleasure, do we not? “

He nodded wordlessly. His cock never once stilled in you as he watched you. He kept grunting under his breath, every noise ending in what sounded like a whine.

“Then I say tonight, I want you to finish inside of me until there is no doubt that come morning I am carrying your child,” you commanded.

His mouth hung open, his hips slowing a bit as he stared down at you. You could see him searching for any uncertainty on your face. Yet, he could search for his entire life and never find in you any doubt of him.

You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned up and took his pendant of Thor’s hammer in between your teeth before looking directly into his eyes. His thrusts picked up in speed, going harder and deeper than before.

He closed the gap between you, his lips coming next to your ear as he finally released your leg. On one side all you could hear a symphony of skin slapping against skin as he fucked you at an almost bruising intensity. In the other, he began to whimper and whine for you.

“Pretty wife, amazing mother,” he whispered in your ear, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips. He was throbbing inside you and you could feel just how close he was. The way he twitched and pushed against you, his weight pressing into your chest, the band started to tighten again.

“Already a desperate man for you,” he grunted. You were incapable of getting any sound to leave your mouth. All you could do was focus on his word, his sounds, his movements. He was all you knew to be true in this moment.

“Can’t wait to see you pregnant. Probably prettier, round with child and tits swollen with milk. Fuck,” he said to you as his hips started stuttering more frequently.

Your orgasm overcame you finally, causing you to cry out his name. You were barely aware of his whisperings still in your ear.

“That’s a good girl, fuck, yes, my pretty wife,” he practically growled in your ear. Finally, his thrusts stopped, his cock buried inside you as he released ropes of hot cum into you. Sihtric let out a sound with every throb.

You were trembling when he pulled himself from you, breathing heavily. Carefully, he maneuvered the furs out from under your body before carefully covering you both. You moved closer to him and laid your head on his chest. His arm wrapped around you, holding you as though he was terrified of you walking out the door.

You laid there in silence for several moments, basking in the way you felt. With being given from your father to Sigefrid, you had never known much of love or safety. You had never really known kindness. You had feared for so long that the violence and chaos both of them had brought into their lives and halls would haunt you forever.

Yet, laying here in Sihtric’s arms, you almost couldn’t remember how they made you feel. He made you feel so powerful, so loved, so worshipped beyond belief that you would now go days without thinking of the horrors of your past. Even Astra seemed to feel nothing but safety and love.

You turned your face to look at him. He was looking happily down at you, a cheesy, lazy little grin splashed on his face. You were certain nothing could get better than this.

“I love you,” you said softly. “Especially your eyes.”

He rolled them, yet the smile never faded. “Which is your favorite?” he asked.

“Oh no, that is like trying to choose a favorite mountain, or snowflake. Each so unique, so special, one would be an ignorant fool to pick a favorite,” you told him, smiling up at him. “Luckily, I do not have to. I get to enjoy them until I die.”

“Oh? And if I die before you?” he teased, kissing your forehead.

“You are not allowed. I cannot let you walk into Valhalla without me there to greet you, even if that means I will need to pick up an axe again,” you said simply. It was your truth. “I have spent my entire life waiting for the love you give me. You are not allowed to ever make me live without it again, husband.”

Sihtric tried to hide it, but you could see him wiggle just a bit, his smile spread further, when you addressed him as husband. In the moments past, he was too distracted by lust. But now it was sinking in, for both of you, and you felt just as joyful as him.

“Of course, wife. I would not dare leave you to raise our ten children alone,” he said, smirking as you laughed.

“I believe I said five more,” you told him, raising an eyebrow.

“I believe Freyja will bless us with a small army, as much as I plan to bury my cock in you,” he told you, kissing your forehead. “Speaking of.”

Sihtric smirked before kissing you again, pulling you on top of him. You felt your laugh rumble in your chest as you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

You were finally no longer a bargaining chip.

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @alexagirlie

#the last kingdom #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #dividers by benkeibear #sihtric x you smut

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sugaimhome · 2 years ago

Text

country house setting - kth - part one

pairing: 19th century taehyung x reader

minors do not interact!!!

warnings (this part): age gap (10 years, readers 18, he’s 28), masturbation (v brief), loads of smut in the next chapter hold ye horses, yandere (? he’s very obsessed with her and her innocence lol), hints towards previous abuse, distant father figure, the messed up society of 19th century britain, biscuits.

part summary: taehyung wasn't looking forward to the isolation of his fathers manor, when you knock his door, that isolation is shattered, he has a new obsession. When taehyung visits your father to introduce himself as his a new neighbor, he makes you an offer you just can not decline.

words: 4.4k

series summary: your isolated manor house has nothing interesting going on. but when the abandoned manor near to yours has a new occupant, things change. taehyung is obsessed with you from the day you first knock his door. he’d do anything for you, even if it meant going against your father’s wishes, even if it meant you losing something very important to your future marriage on the way, something that would force your fathers hand.

part one part two part three masterlist

explanation of the title: a literacy genre where fictional characters are often isolated and alone living in a country house.

A/N: i’ve been so excited to post this, then suddenly, min yoongi decides to post a picture with the same vibes... least to say I changed some names around to better suit next chapters 😫😫 he will be appearing more than once in this story. this hasn’t been proof read by anyone but me so sorry about that 😶‍🌫️ i love reader so much i just want to protect her 🥺 also the writing on the banner is jane austens writing, what a queen. I did try and copy the speaking of the time a little but I think I failed 😀

“A ball?” you ask, hope filling every inch of your heart, you’d never been to a ball, you were dying to go “Oh, father, we must go” It had been over two months since you’d properly left the house, and that had only been to the local market. You could only paint the garden so many times before going mad.

“We won’t be going to Min Yoongi’s ball” he replies, not looking up from the letter he’s holding. He sounds so resigned you wonder if he even heard you.

“But father-” you begin, hoping to say your piece to him.

“No Y/N” his answer is blunt, you know it was final; there's no point arguing with him when he’s in one of these moods, it will only end with you getting hurt.

“Okay”. This had been the third ball invitation this week and the third rejection from your father. You sigh. How were you ever to find a husband if you didn’t socialise? All the rich men would have found young brides now, and you, at the age of 18 would be seen as too old. The two of you stand in awkward silence for a while as he flips through his letters.

“Someone is making residence in the manor beyond the brook.” he tells you, licking his finger to separate two pieces of paper from each other.

“Really?” you ask. “I hope it’s a family, I would love a friend so close!”

“It’s a single man, according to the Park family, they are acquaintances with him in London.”

“London!?” you exclaim, you had been disappointed by the lack of friends the move in would bring but a new excitement had begun with the aspect of the man being from London. You had so many questions about the place. It was another world to you. “When does he move in?”

“You must not bombard him with your incessant questions.” he complains, wiggling a finger at you without looking up at you.

“I only wish to make him a cake, or maybe some biscuits” you admit, trying to lace honesty into your voice.

Your father sighs, putting down his papers and turning to you. “The 10th”

“But father, that is today!” you think he’s playing with you. “Don’t be mean”

“Read the letter if you do not believe your own father.”

The letter did in fact say the 10th. You’re almost jumping on your feet, but that would be impolite so instead you pull the letter, signed by the park jimin your father had always spoken about to your chest. “What great news” you say, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. “If you don’t mind, father, I will begin to make biscuits for him now”

“Do as you please” he replies, not really listening, still flicking through the pages in front of him. Curtsying you leave the room, the letter balled up in your fist. You make a bee-line for the kitchen, you’d get Annie to put the oven on straight away.

***

Taehyung had been hesitant to move back to the country. When his father had died 4 years ago he’d left his childhood home in his inheritance. Taehyung had decided that after so long it was time to return home after nearly 10 years in London. Home was a loose term. The manor had been miss kept, the garden overgrown, the surfaces dusty. Upon his early morning entrance to the house he had been ushered in by an elderly maid, Victoria was her name, he only vaguely remembered her. Apparently, he'd been paying her a monthly wage to maintain the place since his father had died. She hadn't been doing a too-great job. Though he was grateful that the house wasn't entirely empty when he arrived. Victoria had made him tea, lit his fire and explained to him that she was happy someone was living in the house again. She left, explaining she lived in the town across and had a family now. He granted her a smile as she went.

With the door locked shut and Victoria gone the only sound the house offered was the low snapping and crackling of the flames. It was so different to London, there was always something going on, someone coming to visit him, a servant cleaning or, even in the silent moments, the sound of the street at the end of his carriage-way. He missed it already.

Yet the quiet of the house offered an odd privacy and an odd tranquility that he had missed. It dawned on him that he could do anything here and the only witness would be the flames of this fire and the wildflowers that had overtaken the garden. It gave him a sense of freedom.

Leaning back in his chair, cup of tea in one hand the other lying across his thigh. He relaxed in the blissful, slightly creepy, silence until the door knocked. He sighs. Maybe he wasn't as isolated as he thought. Nearly forgetting that no one is here to open the door for him as he had been so used to in London he quickly shoots from his chair. For a moment he struggled to open the front door, Victoria had locked him in it seemed.

"Give me a moment!" he shouts, hoping his visitor hasn't already left.

He finds a key hanging from one of the plant pots. What an odd place. The door unlocks with relative ease and as he pulls it open he peeks his head around the door.

A teenager. He has opened the door to an unaccompanied female teenager who seems to have a box of biscuits. "Good Evening" she curtsies, the too small corset she's wearing almost over spilling her breasts. He gulps. "I live in the manor across the brook" she explains to him, he can hear the unease in her voice. The naivety and innocence. "I brought you biscuits."

She extends the box to him at arms length, squeezing her breasts together in the process. Was she doing this on purpose? "Thank you," he smiles, taking the box from her. "Would you like to come in?" When she nods he pulls the door open entirely, displaying the very dusty entryway. "Do excuse the disorder, as you can imagine it hasn't been well looked after"

"I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't said" she admits, purposely keeping her eyes away from the dust. He appreciates the small action. She scans the reception hall, obviously waiting for him to lead her through to a social area. "My name is Y/N" she tells him as he leads her into the living area. When he doesn’t immediately reply she asks, "Would it be impolite to ask yours?"

She's oddly quiet, he probably wouldn't have heard her voice if he were in the hustle of London "Taehyung" he replies. "My father used to own this manor. He died four years ago, would you have known him?"

"I would have been 14 then, with little consideration of what was going on around me" Y/N replies. "I am sorry for your loss"

She was 18. Many questions filled his head. "Is your father a respectable man?" He asks her. "Is that whom you live with?"

"Oh, yes, as respectable as yours once was I should imagine" she replies, he turns to look at her, a little blush covers her cheeks.

"Then you would have been in London for the season this year" he asks, wondering if he had ever crossed paths with her.

"I have never been to London," she replies. "Though, I have heard it is exquisite."

An Eighteen year-old who has never seen London. "Then you must have an arranged marriage with a local man. I hope that is going well for you"

There is a pause between his statement and her reply. "My father does not have time to threat over my marital arrangements"

He is shocked, he had not heard of such a scandalous thing in his life. He feels sorry for her. Puzzled, he leads her into the living room where she gently sits down on a sofa he desperately hopes is not dusty. When no little particles rise to meet the sun he assumes he is safe. "I assume you'd like one of these biscuits" he asks her, turning around to place them on the small, delicately decorated table. When he turned around she'd moved, as quietly as a mouse, to the fireplace. Her dress was so close to the flames. Y/N's attention does not seem to be upon the fire though but more towards the painting placed above him.

"This is not an appropriate place for such a lovely painting." she turns to him. Instinctively he walks up beside her, looking at the painting. "The heat will ruin the watercolour"

There's a pout on her lips, this was obviously something she was very passionate about. "This is Thomas Girtin" she comments, reaching out and ghosting the frame of the painting with her fingers, above her finger is the signature of this Thomas Girtin. "It is a rare and expensive piece."

Taehyung is no longer staring at the painting but rather at her. He was surprised at her confidence to come into a strangers house and advise them on both the placement of their paintings and the stupidly of it. He smirks. "I'll have it moved at soon as possible, Miss Y/N. I am sure it will look a lot nicer in your premises"

"No, sir" she exclaims, stepping back from the painting and turning to look at him. "That is not what my intentions were when telling you about this piece."

"Perhaps it will persuade you to bring me more of those biscuits," Taehyung replies. He thought of his moment on the chair earlier, when he had the small epiphany of the freedom this house would bring him, how he could get away with anything. He places a hand on the small of her back and leads her back towards the front door. Grabbing two biscuits on his way past and passing one to her. With the hand on her back, she seems to have silenced a bit. "It's nearly dark, I would like to walk you back across the brook."

"You do too much, Sir. I grew up here. I know quite well my way across the brook" Y/N defends. Taehyung is adamant as he places his boots on, and his overcoat.

"So did I. I insist" he replies. "I left only 10 years ago, at your age. I'm sure I will find my way back quite safely." She doesn't reply, just stands in front of him with her arms crossed. "If you'd had a season in London you'd know well this is what a true gentleman is supposed to do."

She blushes at the mention of a season in London. It only gives Taehyung an inflated feeling of power. It is clear that this young woman had no idea how to navigate herself around men, or perhaps other humans. She was as isolated as he was when he had lived in this place. He felt an unwelcome feeling of wanting to show her everything.

***

Taehyung had, clearly, known his way around the grounds of both his and your land. As he left you at the bottom of the steps to your mansion, offering you a little smile and a wave as you climbed the steps, he had mentioned something about the biscuits running out soon, his maid had family and once he had shared with them, he'd need more in at least two days' time. You reached the top, turning to see if he'd moved away, he had not. He bows and you curtsy before you slip into the warmth of your home.

As soon as you close the door you place your back against it, as if to block him out. That was not what you had imagined him to look like, you had expected a man in his early forties, perhaps a similar age to your father. You had not expected a young man, a man who's waistcoat fit snugly around his figure, a man who had beautiful fluffy hair. With eyes as dark as the chocolate you so rarely had. Your heart had been beating too fast the whole time you were there, that's what happened to all the women in the books you read when they loved someone, but surely that was over dramatic? Too soon? You wished you had someone to ask but it was just you and your father here now and you doubted he had the answer to this.

The real problem did not lie in your beating heart, nor in the new strange emotion you felt but rather in the fact that when he had asked you if you'd bring more biscuits, you'd said you could bring some the very next day. And after all of that, you hadn't asked him a single question about London. Sighing, you make sure your door is locked before heading up to your chamber. The rest of the house is dead quiet, you can’t bring yourself to care anyways. You didn’t particularly want to see your father. You'd get up early in the morning and make more biscuits.

***

When Taehyung woke up the next morning he realised two things.

that it would be rude of him to not go introduce himself to Y/N's father, they were neighbors now after all.

that he had some very interesting dreams last night and the majority of them involved Y/N. He had woken up with a very prominent erection. He would need to see her again and soon.

He sat up in bed, having disregarded the bedclothes last night. He was alone, it wasn't like there was a risk of being indecent, plus he'd needed to touch himself. Taehyung could see his reflection in the mirror opposite the bed. Whilst looking at himself he wonders if she'd be able to handle the size of him. He places his hand around his dick, dragging it up and down in a loose grip- pretending his hand is Y/N. He assumes she is a virgin - only tightening his grip with this thought. He tries to imagine how she'd sound, but that's something he won't be able to tell until the moment comes, he would make that moment happen, he'd do anything to insure it. What would he have to do, and to what extent, to make Y/N his? The movement of his hand along his dick is almost painful now. Balls tightening more and more with every thrust his hips make into his hand. He cums, shooting white liquid up his stomach. It runs through the valley of his abdominal muscles like a river between two mountains. He would never look at Y/N the same again. In less than an hour he would be introducing himself to her father with the traces of his cum on his stomach the thought of it oddly turned him on. Instead, he headed for the bathroom where he would wash it off. There were times for such things and they weren't for when he was introducing himself to an elder.

***

An hour after you'd baked the biscuits you were standing in your chamber, paintbrush between your teeth, painting a figure into one of your old landscape photos of the house across the brook. You hated to admit that the figure was Taehyung, but it only made sense, you hadn't stopped thinking of him.

You step back from the painting, wondering what it was that was missing exactly. There was Taehyung in his blue overcoat as he had been yesterday. It doesn’t seem enough. You can hardly tell it's him in the picture but if you had studied his figure, as you had plenty of times in the hour you had with him, you would know it was him.

There's a knocking at the door downstairs, it echoes around the whole mansion like the chiming of bells. Climbing over the pots and brushes you have thrown across your room, you hang your head from the open window. From this angle you can't see the front door but you can see the carriage drive. It's empty. Who would visit who didn't have a carriage?

Not caring much about your paint splattered dress you step from your room. Vaguely aware of the paint on your face, you choose to ignore it as you race down the stairs. At the door is your father, who is just opening it as you make it to the landing. However you're much more interested in what's behind the door. Your father obviously doesn't connect the dots as he sees the young man standing at the top of your steps. You, however, become much more worried about the current state of your appearance. "Good morning sir, I'm Kim Taehyung"

Your father stares at him blankly as Taehyung offers his hand to shake. "The new gentleman across the brook?" He asks. Nodding Taehyung smiles at your father, perfectly white teeth on show. From where you're standing he can't seem to see you. You debate running back upstairs before your father lets him in. But you're too late, your father's shaking his hand and pulling him through the door at the same time. There's no hiding now. "My God Y/N!" your father exclaims at seeing you. "I told you not to wear such disgraceful garments out of your room! you'll have to excuse her" he turns to Taehyung, "she's not very well socialised."

You blush, Taehyung must notice you backing away. "It's really not a worry sir, I am already acquaintances with your daughter, she brought me biscuits yesterday evening, I suppose under your instructions"

If your father was to take credit for your ideas, you would have cried, instead your father explodes "I did not advise such an act! I apologise for her rogue mannerisms." You knew he had not been listening to you yesterday. As the pair walk past the bottom of the stairs, therefore past you, Taehyung rolls his eyes and then winks at you.

"I very much enjoyed the biscuits" he announces, it's a response to your father, but he's looking at you as he says it. Tickling erupts on the inside of your stomach. You place a hand on it, having never felt this feeling before. Taehyung watches your hand as it lands on your abdomen. You don't understand why but he's smirking as he follows your father into the study. It dawns upon you that you do not have a great understanding of the outside world nor the feelings that Taehyung has brung with it. The two men disappear behind the study door, and you run over to place your ear to the key-hole.

“Does she paint?” he asks your father, why this isn’t a question he can just ask you is unbeknownst to you.

“I believe so” your father mumbles, the topic of his daughter seems to put him in a foul mood.

“You believe so?” Taehyung sounds upset, as if the response he had received wasn’t enough.

“There becomes a stage in a man's life when he stops caring about the women around him. He stops caring about silly things like paintings. You understand me don’t you.”

“I don’t believe I do, sir,” Taehyung replies. There's a harshness to his voice you had yet to have heard. You bring a hand up to cover the huff of surprise your mouth admits. If you were to talk back to your father like that you’d be slapped and denied food for a day. When your father doesn’t reply Taehyung continues. “I would like to view her paintings if you would permit it.”

“Of course,” Your father replies, annoyed. Then he asks Taehyung a question using so many business words you give up trying to listen to their conversation and focus more, or panic more, on the fact Taehyung was coming to view your paintings. There seems to be no other option than to sprint up the stairs and at least try to tidy it up a little.

You’re in the middle of stuffing an old awful painting under your bed when the door knocks. “Give me a moment father and I’ll be out!” you shout, trying to be oblivious after eavesdropping.

“It’s Taehyung,” he replies. “May I come in”

You pause before answering. You could probably tell him to go away and he would. “Oh! Come in!” You’re up from under your bed now. Currently the main painting on display was the one with him in, you figured that he wouldn’t have looked in a mirror long enough to tell that it was his figure anyway. It was still slightly embarrassing. The door knob twisted and he filled the doorway with his figure.

“This is your chamber and workroom?!” was the first thing he asked, you blush, embarrassed both with the fact he was in the only place you stood naked each night, and that he was judging your way of life.

“It’s not ideal.” you reply, deciding to go for the truth. “I tried painting in the parlor but father was not best pleased.”

He nods his head but doesn’t reply to you, beginning to walk around your room of paintings. Wildflowers. Your father at his desk. A deer in snow. The view of the fields beyond from your window. You're shaking. Stopping at the painting you were most dreading, he tilts his head.

“Are they...” he pauses and his lip curves to the side, “kissing?”

"Um" you begin. "Is it off?" no longer caring that it's him and more concerned with your painting. "Her neck is at the wrong angle isn't it!" you exclaim, you're next to him now contemplating the painting together, as you had done with the portrait over his fireplace. This had been one of your very first paintings of people, you’d read from a men's guide to kissing that you had brought from one of the second hand stores in the town. It was the best you could do, you’d never seen two people kiss before.

Taehyung moves on from that painting to the next, your most recent painting, the one with him in it. You daren’t look at him to see his reaction, instead you wipe a little paint off the bottom of the frame, hoping to distract him from, well, himself.

“I like this one” he smiles, “though I think it's missing something”

You’re too scared to reply to him so instead you just nod your head. It’s funny how he thought the same as you. “You capture the house really well, and the blue of my coat.”

Hands shaking you go to apologise to him. It wasn’t fair of you to paint him without his permission, but he’s moving back to the kissing scene again. Following behind him like a shadow you both end up staring at the painting. You’re aware of him looking at you from the corner of his eye. Your breath catches in your throat. Down the stairs you can hear your father moving about in his study. The rest of the house seems to be in an anxious science, holding its breath, as if it expects something to happen. Do you expect something to happen? He fully turns to you, his focus no longer on the painting, placing one of his hands on your shoulder. Your body freezes, though warmth spreads down your arm and into your body where his hand touches your dress. “Taehyung?” you're aware that your voice sounds so quiet in the greatness of the room.

He pushes your shoulder slightly so you’re facing him. The whole room blurs and it's only him that you can see. He's like an angel sent from God, his bright light blinds you. “I could show you, Y/N”

Show you what? There's so much in this world that you want to see, want to experience. “Show me what?” you ask him, your brain is too innocent, too behind to pick up on what Taehyung really means.

“How to kiss, then after that” he pauses, looking at his small figure in the picture behind you. “I could show you anything” lessening the grip he has on your shoulders. You feel no pressure in your answer, you could say no, he’s so close to you.

“I’d like that” you reply, your mouth staying slightly agape at the eagerness in your tone, you hadn’t realised you were so keen. Smiling, Taehyung brings his thumb up to his mouth, he runs it between his lips, as if to wet them with his spit, then he’s bringing it to your face. This wasn’t how you imagined a kiss to be and, instinctively, step back.

“Don’t worry Y/N, this isn’t a kiss, I am wiping paint off your cheek” his thumb makes contact with your skin and a blush rushes up to your cheeks. Why were you so responsive to his touch? “I won’t kiss you today”

Your lip sticks out in immediate disappointment, “I want you to think on it more” he admits. “You only get one first kiss.”

“How long do I have to think about it?” you ask, you were hit by the insufferable feeling of being so naïve, so behind where you should be in the experience of your life, that it was embarrassing. You’re sure a kiss will solve this. You’re sure Taehyung will solve this.

“Tomorrow” he has removed his thumb from your cheek now, but his other hand is caressing your face. He runs slow circles between your eye and your hair and, nature guiding you, you lean into his touch further. This, you realise, is what intimacy was. You had once read the definition in a dictionary

close familiarity or friendship.

When you had first read it, you had realised that you had never had any intimacy with anyone. It was as foreign to you as flying was to a dog, or walking was to a baby. Your eyes are wide in shock, your legs only just holding your weight up. Taehyung is smiling at you softly when he removes his hand. Your body is as attached to this area of your floor as a tree to soil. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow” he steps over a paint brush and pot, you want to stop him but your tongue has been stolen from you. He’s at your door now, pulling it shut behind him. He’s hidden behind the near closed door when he softly says “I’ll show you everything, Y/N”

Then he’s gone.

You hear the front door shut.

Without his biscuits.

thank you for reading!

#kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #taehyung #taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #bts kth #kth smut

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afictionaladventure16 · 2 years ago

Note

Reader being Pedro’s co-star (maybe along Bella in TLOU or if not in another show/film) and him basically taking her in after finding out she’s not being well taken care of in her home, so he becomes her surrogate dad

It's Gonna Be Okay (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Word Count: 5,091

A/N: I may have took this request and ran with it.... but uhhhh I hope this is somewhat what you least expected... enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of neglect and abuse.

If it were up to you, you wouldn’t have taken up acting when you were younger. You were forced into it at a young age, it was so you could help pay bills because your father was on disability and your mother didn’t want to give up her position as a housewife. You eventually fell in love with acting, being able to just escape your life and family and just be someone completely different.

You’d had been getting bigger roles now that you were older. At only age fourteen, you had gotten many roles in shows and movies. You were proud of yourself. Someone had to be. You were currently working on another film after just finished working on the Prospect, which starred Pedro Pascal as Ezra. You played Cee, a girl who is traveling planets with her father. This film you were starring in now was a small indie film, which had been something different than what you usually worked on. That didn’t mean that you didn’t like it, you liked the challenge.

You walked into your trailer after shooting a couple of scenes. Your mom was on the phone with god only knows who. For the longest, you wished your relationship with your parents was better. You wished they could be proud of you and that maybe they did this because they wanted a better life for you. But that wasn’t the case, they were only thinking for themselves.

Your mom hung up the phone, “your father and I were thinking about buying a new house.”

“We just bought a house,” you stated as you began to undress from your wardrobe for your character and into some regular clothes.

“Well, I think we could use something new. Plus with the money you made from your previous role, we can afford it?”

You let out a deep sigh, “but that’s my money, shouldn’t I have a say?”

“Your money? Sweetie, it’s our money.”

“I was the one who did all the work, my name is on the checks!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, you know the money goes to an account that has me and your father as the trustees.” You couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve taken it for years and years, them using you to get money and you knew eventually you would be left with nothing.

“It’s my money, that money is supposed to be left untouched.”

Your mom let out a deep breath, “Well, it’s the least you could do for all we do for you.”

“All you do for me? What? Sit around and not do anything!?”

She began to rub her temples, “sometimes I wish I never had you,” she spat.

“If you hate me so much then why did you ever have me?” You asked, tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“We had you because we thought you could fix us!”

“So what I’m just some kid you have when your marriage is falling apart? So if that doesn’t work you can blame the kid? You were better off getting a dog!”

“Maybe we were better getting a dog! At least the dog would listen and be more appreciative! And you know what? You shouldn’t even be talking to me like that, I am your mother!”

“Barely! I only see you when it’s convenient! All I am to you is an ATM!”

“You are so ungrateful, you have no idea what we do so you could be some superstar!”

“You didn’t do shit! I did this! I walked myself to auditions! I took the bus to film locations! I did it!” You yelled, allowing yourself to finally yell out everything you had been holding back.

“Fuck this,” she said as she walked away to grab her bag.

“I’m not going home,” you said.

“Ni te quiero ahi de todos modos,” (I don’t want you there anyway) she hissed as she walked out of the trailer. You didn’t know where you could go if you couldn’t go home. If you could even call that place home.

You felt the warm tears make their way down your cheeks, and you were quick to wipe them away, “I don’t need them,” you said to yourself. You grabbed your backpack of essentials, you usually carried it around because it was stuff you needed for before and after shoots and now it was convenient because you couldn’t go home.

When you walked out of your trailer, almost everyone had gone home for the night. Most of the shooting took place in Los Angeles which was where more than half the cast and crew lived. The others rented places to live in until the end of the shoot.

You didn’t know where to go, but your feet seemed to lead you the way to the bus stop. It was almost like you were on autopilot to the only place you knew you’d welcomed.

Once you had gotten on the bus, you noticed dark clouds beginning to cover the sunset sky. Usually, you would be happy to see that it was about to rain, but since you were stuck in a bus and would eventually have to walk the rest of the way to your destination, you were feeling the opposite to see the clouds.

You had ridden the bus for a good twenty minutes, this was one of the routes you got to know over the past couple of months since filming. You’d ride the bus for twenty minutes and then walk the rest of the way, which was another twenty minutes.

It only sprinkled during the walk to your destination. But it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. The whole walk to the neighborhood, you couldn’t help but wonder what life could have been if maybe your parents actually cared. What will life become if this continued? You couldn’t handle the way they treated you as if you were just an employee, you yearned for that feeling of being loved by your parents.

You couldn’t quite remember when exactly it started, you thought it could’ve been when your dad got injured at work, but even then you felt it was before that. You admit, that the words your mother said hurt. You were only created to fix their marriage and even that couldn’t fix it because it was obvious to everyone that it was falling apart day by day.

Once you had gotten to the neighborhood, you were glad that they didn’t live in a gated community or else this walk would’ve been for nothing. You ran the rest of the way to the house, running up the steps, and knocking on the door.

You stood in silence for a few seconds until the door opened, “Y/N? What are you doing here?” Pedro asked in shock, “Mija, you’re all soaked, get in.” Pedro pulled you into the house, before running off to grab you a towel.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve called,” you began to say.

He chuckled, “Yeah, I could’ve gotten you a ride.”

That was true, but part of you just wanted to be left alone. “Sorry,” you said again.

Pedro wrapped the towel around you, “Take your shoes off, make yourself at home.” You never understood that phrase, maybe because you never knew what a home should feel like. You cleared your throat as you took your shoes off, placing them by the door. You followed Pedro into the living room, “You came just in time, I was gonna start a movie marathon…” Pedro looked over at you standing by the couch. “Pues, mija sit down.”

“I don’t want to ruin the couch,” you gestured to your wet clothes. Pedro could care less if you got his couch a little wet, but he probably thought you felt uncomfortable in wet clothes.

“Hold on,” he said as he ran up to one of the rooms. He came down a few minutes later, “I remembered one of my little cousins left some of their clothes here the last time they came to visit. These pajama pants should fit and I have one of my old Fleetwood mac tees here.” He handed you the clothes, giving you a grin.

“Thanks,” you said with a smile.

“You know where the bathroom is,” he gestured towards the hallway. This wasn’t your first time in Pedro’s house, in fact, you came over to his house pretty often. Since being in the Prospect together, you have developed a strong bond with Pedro. You still hung out with him whenever he was in town and you even went to visit him in New York a few times. This house has become like a home to you, a true home. One in which you could actually be yourself, when you came here you never wanted to go to the one where your parents were. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t as surprised to see you, just more surprised you didn’t call him. You quickly changed in the bathroom, and when you walked back out to the living room, Pedro had microwaved some popcorn. He pats the spot next to him for you to sit down.

You rolled your eyes and sat down beside him, “What are we watching?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s going on,” he asked in a serious tone.

You sighed, “don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do your parents know you're here?”

“All they know is that I’m not home and they’re happy with that,” you picked up some popcorn and began eating.

“Now why would you say that?” At this point he turned the T.V. off, giving you his full attention.

“My mom and I got into this big argument,” you said, hoping he would drop it and you could just go back to ignoring the situation.

“About?” But part of you knew he wasn’t going to just drop it. Pedro was a good listener and for some reason, he had done more for you in the little time he has known you, than your parents ever have.

“Money,” you began, not even trying to hold it in anymore, maybe he could help you do something about it. “They’ve been spending everything I’ve earned like it’s no tomorrow and now I’m scared that that’s all they care about.”

“What?” Pedro sat up, “They can’t do that, it’s your money,” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he knew he had to be somewhat illegal.

“I know,” You sighed, “but they're my parents”

“Mija, they signed a contract. Only a certain percentage of that money goes to an account that they could spend for you, the rest has to go to a savings account for you.”

“It’s all in one account,” you responded. “I don’t know what to do, I’m too young to get emancipated, and even then… I have no other family I can stay with.”

Pedro got up, he knew he had to talk to someone about this, maybe one of the directors or even your manager. He just knew this wasn’t right. He grabbed his phone from the counter, Pedro hesitated for a second, what was he doing? The choices he made right now could change your life either for the better or for the worse.

He went into his contacts, tapping on his phone a few times before pressing it to his ear, “Pedro?” You called out, walking in the direction he went. “What are you doing?” You asked as soon as you saw him.

Before he could respond to you, someone had picked up, “Hello?”

“Chris,” he began, your eyes widen, you couldn’t believe he had called your manager, you had forgotten that they had been good friends. “It’s Pedro.”

“Pedro, what are you doing?”

Pedro didn’t respond to you again, “Pedro, what’s up?”

“Any chance you can come by my place? Y/N is here and we have something to talk to you about.”

“Um, yeah, I can be there in like thirty minutes, sound good?”

“Yeah, see you then,” Pedro hung up the phone, looking over at you, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“How do you know that?”

He sighed, “because I’ll be there to help you, okay? You’re not alone, Y/N. Do you trust me?” You didn’t trust a lot of people, but Pedro was one of the few you did trust. He had shown you that you could trust him time and time again. You gave him a small nod. He smiled softly at you, “you hungry?”

“I don’t think I can eat at a time like this,” you said nervously. Pedro understood he didn’t think he could eat either, but he knew it was rude to not offer.

When Chris arrived, Pedro did most of the talking. You sat on the couch, nodding every once in a while or talking when things needed more clarity. But for the most part, Pedro was your advocate and you were content that you didn’t have to deal with it. Chris was overwhelmed with the information he was given, but he knew what to do in these kinds of situations.

“I can get you a lawyer,” he began, “but I’m letting you know now, it’s gonna get messy. We’ll have to find a family for you to stay with-”

“I have no other family,” you confessed.

“Well, they might have you-”

“She can stay with me,” Pedro blurted out. “If she’s able to.”

“It’s possible. We’d just have to provide evidence that temporary guardianship is needed in this case,” Chris stated.

“I have evidence,” you began, “just do whatever is needed and I can provide the evidence.”

Chris sighed, “alright. I’ll keep in touch and It’s probably best if Y/N goes home tonight.”

“My mom told me not to come home.”

Chris glanced at Pedro before looking at you, he didn’t know what to say, “then I guess you’ll stay with Pedro for the night.” He didn’t say anything else before leaving.

“You think it’ll work?” you asked Pedro, he had sat down next to you once Chris had left.

“I like to think it will,” he gave you a reassuring smile before pulling you to his side.

“Did you really mean it?” you asked, receiving a confused look from Pedro. “When you said I could stay with you.”

“Of course I meant it,” he said. “You’re like a daughter I’ve never had, in just a few months we’ve known each other you have brought me so much joy and I have to admit, seeing you shoot your scenes, makes me feel so proud.”

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. Someone who didn’t even know you for your whole life was proud of you, more than your parents ever could be. “What’s wrong?” Pedro asked as he wiped away a tear off your cheek that had managed to escape. You shook your head, “Something has to be bothering you, muñeca, what is it?”

You let out a shaky breath, “it’s just… I wish my parents could say that they’re proud of me. I wish they could at least act like they loved me.”

“Oh, mija,” he cooed.

“You know what my mom said to me today?” you sniffled, “she said that they only had me because they thought I would help make their marriage work. What kind of person says that to their own kid?” You let out a soft sob, “Do I even matter to them? To anyone?”

Pedro held you tight, “you matter to me.” He placed a small kiss on your temple, “they may say all these awful things but you are here for a reason.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Sure.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re like a daughter to me and I believe you were brought onto this earth to shine some joy into my life,” he gave you a reassuring smile. “Okay?” You gave him a nod, “Now let’s watch our movie marathon, we’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.”

You laid your head on Pedro’s lap, watching as the opening credits began to play on the screen, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything was going to be okay. When you woke up that morning you didn’t imagine this was how you were going to end your day, but then again, no one ever really imagines how they would really end their day.

You wondered if you’d need to move out and if so, how would everyone take it? Did that really matter? No, it didn’t. You know Pedro said he’d take you in, but would he be true to his word? You couldn’t help but think about all these intrusive thoughts, all you wanted to do was watch the damn movie, but your mind was so loud.

The next day came and no word from Chris. You went back onto the set, your mother was there too. You played your best role yet, the obedient daughter. You sat and listened to your mother as she lectured you for not coming home last night, even though she had told you not to.

Days went by and only one call from Chris, he was working on it. That’s all he said. You visited Pedro a few times before he went back to New York.

Then weeks went by and eventually you finished filming. You hated when you weren’t filming, it meant you had to go home and spend most of your time there.

It wasn’t until a month after the whole talk with Chris was when your parents received the knock at the door. You were at the kitchen table when your mother answered the door, you could hear the shock in her voice when the gentleman said the four magical words, “You have been served.”

Your head the door shut, and the smile on your face only lasted a few seconds before it was met with anxiety. You heard the sounds of the envelope being torn apart and then complete silence. You were beginning to regret everything that had just happened, maybe it was just all a big mistake. Suing your parents was a big deal, accusing them of stealing was another big deal.

You heard footsteps inching closer to where you sat. Then silence. You looked up at your mother standing at the doorway, It was at that moment you knew that it was probably best that she was served the papers when you weren’t there. Because up until that moment, you had thought that all your mother would do was mentally and verbally abuse you, or steal from you.

“You bitch,” she spat as she threw the papers onto the table, “after everything we did for you!” She smacked her hand across your face, your hand instantly touching the spot she had slapped. “This is how you repay us!?”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, you got up from your seat to leave but your mother quickly blocked your way, “move.”

“This is how you repay us?” She asked again. You remained silent, not daring to look at her. It was all quick, her hand on your throat pushing you against the wall, “I’m asking you a question!” Her grip was strong, you scratched at her hand, hoping that it would pain her enough to let go.

It felt like you were against the wall for minutes. Her phone began to ring, allowing you to break free. You fell to your knees as you attempted to catch your breath. “Leave,” she began. “No te quiero ver en esta casa nunca mas, no me importa donde vas.” ( I don’t want to see you in this house anymore, I don’t care where you go) You remained silent as you got up from the floor, “Me oiste?” You didn’t say anything again as you grabbed your phone from the kitchen table. “I asked you a question!”

“Yes! I fucking heard you!” You yelled.

Your reflexes weren’t quick, maybe it was because you were still trying to recover from being choked, or maybe it was because your nerves were everywhere. You weren’t quick enough to dodge your mother's fist, and you stumbled back. Quickly covering your eye, you groaned as you felt it throbbing.

Your mother shook her hand, “Leave before I do something I’ll regret.”

“You’re fourteen years too late for that,” you muttered.

“Eres una disgracia, no eres mi hija. Quiero que todos que sepan que no tengo hija.” (You’re a disgace, not a daughter. I want everyone to know I don’t have a daughter) she muttered as you walked out of the room. You walked into your bedroom, and quickly looked at the damage to your eye, it didn’t look too bad but you knew it would bruise, not to mention the red marks on your neck. You couldn’t worry about it right now, you had to pack what was important and the essentials. As looked around your room, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted to take, just things you needed.

As you began to pack things, you decided to call Pedro, it had only rang a few times before he answered, “Hey, Y/N! I was just about to call you,” He began to say. “I was gonna surprise you, but I might as well just tell you, I’m in LA! I have an interview tonight an-” he had rambled on, but you had to interrupt, or else he wouldn’t have stopped.

“I need you to pick me up,” you cut him off.

Pedro went silent for a moment, “Everything okay?”

“My mom just got served, Pedro.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “I was hoping they’d tell me before they did anything, that way…” Pedro hesitated, he didn’t want to think about what could have happened. “are you okay?” he asks instead.

“Can you please pick me up?” You asked shakingly.

“Of course, Mija, I’ll be there right away, okay?” He said.

“Don’t hang up,” you pleaded.

Pedro’s heart sank, he could hear how torn you were, “okay, I won’t hang up.” You could hear car keys jingling on the other side of the phone, “I’m gonna connect the Bluetooth to my car, okay?”

“Okay,” you had zipped up the last of your stuff into one of your suitcases.

Pedro stayed silent for a few seconds, “are you still there?”

“I’m here,” you said. You began to make your way out of your room, and you spotted your mother still in the kitchen, phone pressed against her ear. You walked out of the house, without saying another word to her. You didn’t know how your father would react and you didn’t want to know. “I’m outside,” you said into the phone.

“I’m only a few minutes away.”

It felt more than a few minutes, it felt like hours. You stood at the driveway, anxious that you wouldn’t leave in time, you wanted to make sure you weren’t home when your father got there.

“I’m down the street,” Pedro announced.

You quickly spotted his car and you ended the call once he was close enough. Pedro parked at the curb, quickly getting out to help you put your stuff in the car. Before you could get in, he grabbed your arm, placing a hand on your face, “Mija,” he began as he noticed the marking on your neck and the swelling of your eye. “Did they do this to you?”

“Let’s go,” you pleaded. He sighed, he knew you were anxious to get out of there. He glanced over at the house you had come out of as you got in the car, he closed the door for you before getting in the car.

The car ride was silent, which was different. Usually, the car rides with Pedro were filled with music and laughter, but this time there was no music and no laughter. You stared out of the window for most of the ride. Once you got to the house, Pedro took your bags and you followed him inside.

“I need to make a phone call,” He informed you as he walked into his office.

You walked over to the window, looking out at the scenic view. Were you making a big mistake? Was he beginning to realize it?

You did the right thing, right?

You took charge of your life and you did the right thing, right? Even if it feels completely wrong and you feel so much guilt. Is it wrong to feel a little relief? Usually, relief meant a good thing, so did this mean it was a good thing?

You felt something on your shoulder, you jolted a bit at the sudden touch.

“Sorry,” Pedro apologized. You calmed down when you realized it was him, “I was on the phone with Chris and the lawyer.”

“What they say?”

“Well, I told them what happened and the lawyer is attempting to get an emergency temporary custody agreement from the judge so you could stay with me. He said he’ll be coming over to take pictures for evidence, but for now…” He sighed, “are you okay?” you shook your head. You didn’t need to say anymore, Pedro pulled you in for an embrace and you allowed yourself to feel everything.

For once you felt like you were able to feel everything without feeling guilty for doing so or even wrong to think such horrible things. But now that the truth has come to light, you were able to feel.

In most cases, this process would have taken days, but somehow the lawyers your manager hired made the process go by fast. Within a couple of hours, Pedro received the call that he was able to get temporary custody, but that’s all it was. Temporary. Eventually, you would have to go to court and maybe end up in foster care, but you didn’t want to think about that now.

“Let me see,” Pedro said softly as he joined you on the couch once again, he had been making some phone calls for the past twenty minutes. “Fuck,” he said softly, “They really hit you pretty well.”

“It hurts,” you groaned.

“I know,” he had a frozen pack of peas in his other hand, along with a small towel. He wrapped the bag of peas in the towel before gently placing it on your eye, “leave this on for twenty minutes, then rest it.” You gave him a nod as you took a hold of the bag of peas. “You want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “not really.”

“That’s fine,” he said, trying not to push you into talking.

But that’s the thing, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to cry it out, you just didn’t want to feel like a burden, especially not to him. Not after all he has done for you so far.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, Pedro quickly took notice, pulling you back into an embrace. “I thought that I would be happier,” you cried. “They’ve always treated me so terribly and now that they’re no longer a part of my life… I don’t get it.” Pedro rubbed your back, “Why does it hurt so much? Why does it feel like-”

“Like you’ve lost your parents?” you nodded.

“Even if they never acted like parents.”

“I don’t know, grief is funny like that,” he said softly. “Some people don’t deserve to be parents, Y/N.”

You took in a deep breath, “you know what she said when I left?” he hummed in response, “Quiero que todos se sepan que no tengo una hija.” Every girl needs a mother, you needed a mother, and you had one. You just didn’t have the one that was portrayed in movies or the ones that your friends had. And you were always envious of that. You wished you had a mother that truly loved you and took pride in being your mother. Maybe you didn’t understand, what it was like to be a mother, but you think you could.

Because if you ever had a daughter, you knew you would love that person unconditionally without hesitation. So, why couldn’t she?

Pedro couldn’t understand it because like you if he had a daughter or even a son. He would love them unconditionally, just like he had tried to do with you. Like he was doing with you. Right now there was a hurting child in his arms and all he could think to do was comfort them even if he was fighting everything inside him to go punch your parents. He knew what he had to do at that moment, he had to comfort you because you needed him.

He kissed your temple, “She doesn’t deserve such a beautiful, intelligent, talented daughter like you and it hurts that she can’t see what I see.” He leaned back from the embrace, holding your head in his hands. “Just because someone shares your DNA doesn’t mean that they are family. If there is anything you have shown me in the time I’ve known you, it’s how to be a father to someone who isn’t even my own kid.”

You gave him a small smile as he wiped away a tear from your cheek with his thumb, “from here on out, we’re in this together, mija, okay?” you nodded.

Yeah, you really couldn’t understand it, but you didn’t have to because DNA didn’t mean they were truly your family. If there was anyone who actually knew you like the back of your hand, it was the man that was sitting beside you. The man who took time to be there for you when they couldn’t.

The man who knew what to say on your bad days and what not to say, who knew your favorite foods and knew your pet peeves, just like a father would. He knew what time you should go to bed for you to be not grumpy in the morning and he knew what subjects in school you needed help in the most.

And he mostly knew all of this in a short period of time. He spent time with you and not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. It didn’t take him long to create a bond with you and it didn’t take you long to consider him like a father.

“Okay,” you said softly. The pain would only be temporary, you knew that and you allowed yourself to feel it. You were still nervous about the outcome of the future, but you knew you had a small support system and that was all you needed.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnook @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r

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galsinspace · 26 days ago

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Replaying Inquisiton really made me notice (again) how the companions are written with such an incredibly noticeable difference in care. Man I hope they did a better job in Veilguard. And it's such a stark contrast from Origins!

I'll just post my comparative ramblings bc I'm on a train and have nothing better to do

In my opinion, one of the best things about Origins is the closeness you develop with your companions. You're with them through massive, formative changes in their lives, you find out about their childhood traumas and the people they've grown up to be, and as a player you make huge decisions that shape their future. By the end I felt so close to these characters. Looking at the main companions:

Alistair? We find out all about his longing for family, for love, his desire not to be defined by his blood and be able to live a normal life. You're both saddled with the responsibility to save the world together, and you do. Depending on the choices you make, he may have the love he longs for, and he may have to be king, you shape his life in a huge way.

Leliana? She literally seeks you out because she's received visions and is on a god-given mission. You literally shape the kind of person she becomes, whether she hardens or softens her heart.

Zevran? This is the most important period in his life. His flight from the Crows, his suicidal intent and then sudden wish to stay alive after all, finding new things to live for, remembering his mother, you save his life in more ways than one.

Morrigan? Literally the first time she's left her abusive mother's side and it's travelling with you. She finds her own ways to live, you give her the jewellery her mother wouldn't allow her, you help her confront her mother and free herself from her. You might literally be the father of her child.

Sten? Also suicidal, and you help him regain his self worth and sense of meaning in life. And you change him. He comes from a society with rigid rules and you help him see other ways of life. If you play as a woman, he's literally confused in the beginning that you're a fighter, and then as you gain his affection he acknowledges and respects you as who you are. He's not romanceable and probably changes the least out if the companions, but still goes through this monumental change of perspective about there being other valid ways of life. Sten should have been romanceable lbr

Oghren? It's super unfortunate how comic relief he is BECAUSE his story is so intense. The woman he loves disappeared! He's an alcoholic! He's so tied into the MAIN QUEST! He's tragic! You're with him through this massive thing he goes through and it really sucks that he can't really... change. You can't really help him. But even so, the events of the game are monumental to his life.

The Secret Companion is self-explanatory. You completely re-shape his life.

And in comparison, the companions in Inquisition are just WILDLY hit or miss. Some of them you become incredibly close to, others are just kinda there. Oh we're saving the world together? Just another day at the office babey. You don't really get to know them that deeply, you don't get to change their views, they're just there and you work together and then they go on their way. I'm of course talking mainly about Vivienne and Sera.

It's insane to me that Vivienne is this incredibly complex character who is the way she is because she grew up traumatized in an oppressive environment and you never get to talk to her about this. It's hidden in a few comments Cole may or may not drop if you travel with both of them. Her polished demeanor and ever-present smile? Learned in the Circle to demonstrate to templars that she was good, obedient, and non-possessed. Her materialism? When she met the duke, the thought in her head was I will never go hungry again.

Vivienne is TRAGIC. She's a deeply traumatized woman who has lived all her life in a system that did not grant her basic security, and she was strong and smart enough to gather power in the only ways she was allowed to. And you can't even talk to her about this. Her personal quest is some weird red herring bullshit meant to make you question whether she's a villain, comparing her to the evil queen from Snow White, and then it's just... her boyfriend dying. You can't change anything. You can barely talk to her about this relationship - it must have been a mix of love and practicality, a connection that gave her both tenderness and influence, the only power she was allowed to have. And it IS an injustice that she could never have married him! But you can't talk to her about this. Can't influence her viewpoint at all. All this complexity is hidden in subtext, and Vivienne does not change as a person at all.

Vivienne is outwardly cold towards Cole, dismissive, pragmatic, cruel. If Cole becomes more human, he points out to her that she secretly worried about him and is glad he's safe. She denies it. This is the only complexity she's allowed to show, hidden in random banter most players will never hear.

Why are we not allowed to be close to Vivienne? Why can't we talk to her? Explore who she is? Why does it feel like it literally does not matter whether we touch her life at all?

I've seen people claim that the fandom neglects Vivienne unfairly, but this was the WRITERS. They neglected Vivienne. They made it impossible to be close to her, they hid her complexity while just having her be straight-up rude for most of the game. This was a huge failure on the part of the writers. I've heard that her main writer said on twitter (DA writers should not be allowed to tweet) that he just didn't like her and that makes me so mad. Fucking video game writers...

And Sera. Oh, Sera.

She's annoying. Her jokes are painfully unfunny. It's super hard to get her to like you. Whenever you talk to her, the first option is to kick her out of the Inquisition. Why on EARTH did they write her this way?

Her personal quest is nothing. You go meet some guy, kill him, over. What does this MEAN??? What does this mean for Sera's character?? It's so fully useless, you learn nothing new, you don't get closer to Sera, who the fuck wrote this and why was this published.

And just like with Vivienne, you barely get to talk to Sera. She runs around with a huge case of internalized elf racism and you never get to talk about it. She literally won't put on armour marked as "elves only", what's up with that girl? She openly looks down on elves to the point of being annoyed to even talk to an elf Inquisitor, why can we never talk to her about this?

She's supposed to be from Denerim. Is she from the Alienage? The close-knit community Tabris is from? Does she know Tabris? She might literally know the Hero of Ferelden and it's never a topic of conversation. She would have been like, a young teenager at the time when the Alienage was suffering a plague and elves were being kidnapped and sold into slavery. Was this not a formative experience for her? Was she not there? Did she not live in the Alienage? Well all of Denerim became a war zone during the Blight, was that not a notable event in her life????

Why do we not get to explore anything that makes her the dismissive, flighty person she is?

Playing in German, there is fascinating ambiguity in the graveyard of your companion's fears that you find in the Fade - Sera's greatest fear is "nothing". In German, the word for the Fade is "the Nothing". I thought it made so much sense that that would be her greatest fear! She's afraid of anything involving magic and spirits, and it adds a nice metaphorical level to her rejection of anything elven: elves are supposed to be inherently connected to the Fade, but she's afraid of the Fade! Comments she makes seem to imply that she has a suppressed sensitivity to spirits, but either Solas or Cole suggesting that that might be the case clearly terrifies her.

Well, imagine my disappointment when I found out that in the original English, her fear is just "nothing". Which is bullshit too, Sera is clearly afraid of of anything Fade-related. I guess it might be some idea of how she's afraid of quiet and non-existence, but like... what a missed opportunity. What a dumb thing to be her greatest fear. What a missed opportunity.

And just like Vivienne, it doesn't feel like you really impact her life at all. Sera just comes and goes, she does her own thing, and she never unpacks any of her issues. Why was she written this way? Why did they think this would be a compelling companion experience? And for fuck's sake, who thought she was funny?

This rant is already way too long and I'm almost off the train so I won't write a full comparison to the Inquisition companions who were done well, but like, it's obvious. For some of them you touch their lives intimately, you shape their worlds, you actually feel close to them by the end of the game. How the fuck did this game get shipped with Vivi and Sera like that.

It's been 10 years and I hope the developers learned from their mistakes, if they noticed them in between sucking their own dicks on twitter.

#talking #dragon age #insane that always bringing cole is the only way you'll learn some things about some of your own companions #unless you bring cole and solas of course and they just make a bunch of references to random tv shows. insufferable writing

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todomitoukei · 3 months ago

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Hey! Sorry to bother you! I would like to share my thoughts with someone :')

Unlike Shigaraki and Toga, Touya is the only one who revealed his story to the public but he's also the only villain who didn't have any effect on society, which is paradoxical. 8 years later, we see that Shigaraki still "haunts" Deku (even if his brief apparition meant nothing), Spinner publishes his book (even if we don't see civilians read the book and think critically), Toga inspires Uraraka's project (even if it's not a big reform)... but we don't even know what influence Touya's story had over people and/or over Shouto as a hero (and if he didn't have any, it would have been interesting to mention this lack).

Touya's greatest desire was to be recognized and to prove that he existed ; after his death (?), did he succeed in leaving his mark ? After being approved by his dad, did everyone else forget him ? Is it a punishment for denouncing his father who is still admired by his peers ? Did he become a taboo subject ?

Some people will say that he had what he wanted the most - his father's attention - but I'm not satisfied. There was something more. Touya wanted to exist and find his place. Him becoming a figure after his death (?) and inspiring people who remember him and his story would have been an interesting idea... but I think he has fallen into oblivion

Don't worry, you're not bothering me!

That's a good point. I think originally, after the first war, his reveal was at least partially responsible for the chaos, the distrust society got in heroes and the high number of heroes straight up quitting.

Other than that you're right. When it comes to his family it feels more like his actions "freed" his father, at least that's how Endvr's character ends up coming across. While he pities himself, he makes it sound like Touya did him a favor by forcing the truth to come out. The fact that Endvr says he CHOSE to retire is proof that society did not care about the lov being victims, or any abuse victims for that matter.

Despite his retirement, he is seen in the final chapter being surrounded by his former sidekicks as well as his biggest fan (Hawks). So in a way Touya's reveal, which was supposed to ruin his father's life, only gifted him with an early retirement and a chance to play victim.

Touya left his mark on society, but it's unclear whether the lov members will be remembered individually or just as a collective.

It is cruel though that none of the lov members were saved and given a second chance. They might have reached their goals to a certain extent but aside from wanting his father's attention, Touya also wanted the rest of his family. And with Horikoshi not being explicit about his ending, there is no way to say whether he ever got that.

If we assumed that he died, he certainly didn't ever get to find out who he is, and never got to truly live and that is the worst part because it's simply not fair.

Some people find the ending hopeful because the lov's suffering inspired the kids to go on to make things better, but this is a fictional story. I don't care about the fictional future victims I will never meet, I care about the fictional victims that I did meet and root for, but Horikoshi decided preventing crime before it happens is the only option and that people can't actually be saved after a certain point. A wonderful message, truly.<3

#bnhavent #ask #lov #dabi

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outromoony · 3 months ago

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Hey ✨ If you got this! It is an ask game 🧑‍💻 Please! Tell us about your Favorite 🔮 Marauders Era character! 🎞 And send this! 💡 To two Other people 💌 Secretly! 🪞 Goodbye 🕊️ And tag with #maraudersaskgame 💫 So others! Can find it.

And! always Remember... to free Palestine! 🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉 🍉🍉 🍉🍉🍉!

This is really hard for me because Lily and Remus have always been my favorite characters, but I genuinely think Sirius is the best character in the Marauders.

I could spend hours talking about him, but I feel we don’t discuss enough just how smart and self-aware this boy was. Even as a kid, he never believed in the blood supremacy his parents tried to instill in him. At eleven, he became the first Black in history not to be sorted into Slytherin. That in itself was an act of rebellion and bravery. He was incredibly brave from such a young age, and he always found pride in not being like his family.

Quotes from the books:

"He was always very kind to me, Sirius. I don't think he ever hated anyone as much as he hated his family."

"Sirius had taken pride in being different from the rest of the family."

We don't know for sure if he was physically abused by his parents, but we do know that he was 100% psychologically, emotionally, and verbally abused.

Quotes from the books:

Sirius talking about Regulus to Harry: "He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

Walburga's portrait in Grimmauld Place: "Youuuu!" she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"

Kreacher: "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh, my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was."

Sirius about his family: "I was always a disappointment to my parents, and I was always glad of it."

Kreacher: "Oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers, and he's back, they say he's a murderer too."

And there's more, definitely more. Sirius is one of the strongest characters in Harry Potter, along with Harry himself. He found a family in James for the first time in his life, so it’s ironic that he would later be accused of killing the person who opened his home to him. He spent his life carrying his last name like a burden while trying to prove to everyone and himself that he was nothing like his family. And in the end, it didn’t matter, because he was still accused of killing his best friend and being just like the rest of the Blacks. He tried to keep Harry safe, giving him to Hagrid along with his motorbike, and still, he spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime he didn’t commit. Even after he got out, he was never entirely free, but he was just... full of life, even when the Dementors and Azkaban tried to take it from him. He was so willing to fight, so willing to live for Harry and protect him with everything he had. He never stopped loving, never stopped fighting for what was right.

Quotes from the books:

Sirius about not being able to leave Grimmauld Place after he escaped Azkaban: "I want to be out there, I want to do something worthwhile." "You think I wanted to be stuck inside that house, hiding while they all went off and fought?"

Order of the Phoenix: "Sirius was a brave, clever, and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger."

"The letters, Sirius’s letters, were full of enthusiasm and life."

I hope he knows everything was worth it, that his sacrifices, struggles, and unwavering loyalty made a difference. That he showed Harry a glimpse of what real parental love is, that he was loved... that his little brother loved him so much and never judged him for leaving, even when he missed him like an aching void that could never be filled. I hope he knows James never blamed him for what happened, and that Remus never really hated him.

In the end, I just hope he knows that he was loved deeply, missed profoundly, and remembered always as a brave, loving soul who showed people around him what it means to truly live. To those who mattered, he wasn’t remembered as the criminal son of the Black family, but as a loyal friend, a devoted godfather, and a beacon of hope. He was not just a survivor of his circumstances but a hero who rose above them.

Free Palestine!!! 🍉🍉🍉

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fracturediron · 9 months ago

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Something I do like about the character writing for DFF is that 1) The characters really do feel like messy teenagers 2) The characters do shitty things, hurt each other or do harmful things to themselves that - frustrating and painful as it is to watch - make sense for the character and their circumstances. The characters don't often make the smart or best decision, but for the most part, it makes sense in context.

Tw for discussion of sexual abuse

Like am I mentally yelling at Non to forget about the movie, ditch these shitty 'friends', be honest with Phee, report Kru Keng and to move to Phee's school? Yes, I am. Do I understand why he doesn't do any of those things? Yes, I do.

He's a teenager who's mentally ill, isolated, with low self esteem and coming from a place of poverty.

As a kid, I was also part of a group of 'friends' who were actually bullies. Although things never went nearly as far as they do in DFF, I can get where Non's coming from. When you're that desperate for acceptance and to be a part of a group (however shitty it may be), and when perhaps they're not even always shitty, just enough so to make you consider staying around, you'll stay around in the hope things get better.

Non's family are poor - to the point of taking out loans for New - and he's already brought trouble to their door due to the money laundering scheme, as well as to his parents' relationship. In contrast to New - who's implied to be the golden child - Non likely feels like he's brought nothing but trouble and misery to his family.

As someone who's mentally ill and on medication, I wouldn't be surprised if he felt ashamed of his mental illness as well, and felt like that already made him a 'burden' to his family. Disclaimer that I don't know how mental illness is treated in Thailand specifically, but as someone from an East/Southeast Asian background, I do feel like in general, mental illness is something that still has a more of a stigma to it in Asia than it does in the West (not that there isn't stigma here too). Like, I would never tell my mum I'm in therapy because I feel like she wouldn't truly understand, and might even blame herself for me going. From her point of view, only 'crazy' people, someone with something seriously wrong with them or someone suffering from severely traumatic event would go to therapy.

When Non got taken in by the police, Phee talked to his dad to get him released, putting himself in potential trouble with his dad and potential future trouble with the police if this comes under any further scrutiny.

Non says time and time again he doesn't want to be a burden to anyone, and he already feels like he's been a burden to his family and Phee. He knows his family can't afford the debt, and he doesn't want to trouble Phee further. So when Kru Keng offers him money in exchange for sex, even though he knows what Kru Keng's doing is wrong, even though he doesn't want to lie and 'cheat' on Phee (and don't tell me it's 'cheating'; again, this is an adult in a position of power grooming a vulnerable youngster), he believes he'd be bringing his troubles to his loved ones and doesn't want to be even more of a 'burden.' So he has sex with Kru Keng.

And then Phee's reaction to finding out. Does he react badly and then say something really awful to Non by telling him to get lost and die? Yes. Do I understand why he reacted like that? Yes! Again, he's a teenager, and probably one in his first serious relationship, and reacting out of anger and hurt, without full details of the situation or understanding of why what Kru Keng's doing is incredibly wrong (even if Non seems to be 'consenting').

Unfortunately, in cases of real life teacher-student grooming, it's not uncommon for the reaction of students (especially teenagers) to not be one of 'oh, that's fucked up, the teacher's a monster, poor student [x]' but for the victim to be ridiculed or slut-shamed by some quarters, especially if it's seen as 'consensual.'

Jin's reaction too. Is it shitty he videoed Non and then (almost?) posted it on social media? Yes. Is it because of him taking that video that it somehow got disseminated to the rest of the school? Yes. Do I understand why he reacted this way? Yes. People are messy and human, and doesn't always react in the best ways in the face of hurt, anger and immaturity

#dead friend forever #dff spoilers #dff the series #non dff #jin dff #phi dff #phee dff #dff meta

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atriza · 2 months ago

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Breaking Point pt.10

Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader

Part 9

Summary: Y/N endures unrelenting physical and psychological abuse at the hands of Five, whose cruelty intensifies following a failed escape attempt. He forces them to submit through degrading rituals, and parades them in front of his silent siblings. The abuse escalates to the point where Five forces them to publicly beg for forgiveness and kiss the floor, all while his family watches in helpless discomfort. Despite Luther’s attempt to intervene, Five asserts his dominance, declaring that the protagonist belongs to him. Day by day, they lose their sense of self, reduced to nothing but an object of Five's control.

Word Count: 722 words

“*Content Warning:**

This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.

If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story.

Have Fun Reading!

The days blurred into a suffocating haze of pain and humiliation. You barely remembered the fleeting moments of peace that used to fill your life. Since your failed escape and the subsequent public display of Five's dominance, the torment had only intensified. His punishments were no longer about keeping you in line, they were about erasing you.Each day, he found new ways to strip away the last shreds of who you were, determined to make you into something that would never dare defy him again.

it started with the carving. His name had already been etched into your skin, but that wasn’t enough. Every night, the blade danced across your flesh, inscribing letters deeper and more painfully than the last. His name stretched across your ribs, thighs, and back—you were a canvas for his twisted sense of possession. But it wasn’t just the physical pain. It was the constant humiliation that ate away at your spirit. He paraded you in front of his family repeatedly, forcing you to kneel beside him or sit at his feet like a pet. His siblings watched in silence, pitying you perhaps, but none dared to intervene.

You had learned not to resist. The exhaustion of mind and body was too much. All you could do was obey, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if you did everything perfectly, he would let you rest. But he never did.

One evening, the punishment took a darker turn. You were lying in the bedroom, your body trembling from exhaustion, when the door creaked open Five's eyes locked on you, dark and unreadable He grabbed your wrist without a word and dragged you across the floor, your legs too weak to resist. He led you down the hallway toward the dining room where the rest of his family sat. This had become a grotesque routine—another ritual in which he would display his control over you. But tonight was different.

He shoved you to your knees in front of the table, his hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing your face down to the cold floor.

"Kiss it,” he ordered, his voice low and cruel. “Show them what you are.”

You hesitated, shame twisting Inside your chest. But you knew better than to resist With trembling lips, you pressed akiss to the floor. The cold surface beneath your skin felt like the final nail in the coffin of your soul. Five's siblings watched, their discomfort palpable. Klaus looked away, Diego's jaw clenched, and Allison stared at her plate, avoiding your gaze. Luther's disapproval burned tn his eyes, but even he said nothing

“Good girl.” Five whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Now beg for forgiveness.”

Your throat tightened. Every part of you wanted to scream, to fight back, but you couldn't. You were his. You had no choice. “I'm sorry,” you whispered, the words barely audible “Please .. forgive me. *

“Louder,” he demanded.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you repeated the words, louder this time, your humiltation burning like acid “I'm sorry. Please... forgive me.”

Five's grip on you tightened, but his tone was filled with cruel satisfaction. He turned to his

siblings, his smile widening. “You see? This is how It’s done. This is how you teach someone their place.”

Luther stood abruptly, fists clenched. “Five, this is wrong You can’t keep doing this.”

But Five's expression hardened. “She's mine, Luther. You don't get to decide what's right or wrong. This is how it has to be.”

Diego stepped forward, but Five's grip on you only tightened. “If any of you try to interfere again, you'll regret it” His words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the power he held over you, over everyone.

He dragged you back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. “You embarrassed me,’ he growled, throwing you onto the bed. “You think I'll let you get away with that?”

Without hesitation, he grabbed the knife again and pressed it to your chest, Just above your heart. “I'm going to make sure you never forget who you belong to” His name was already carved into your skin, but that wasn't enough for him. The blade pierced your flesh, deeper this time, as he inscribed it once again. Each letter felt like a brand, burning into what little was left of you.

In that moment, you knew There was nothing left of you to break. You had been shattered, remade into something unrecognizable something that belonged to him and him alone.

Days bled into each other after that, a fog of pain, degradation, and silent obedience. Five pushed you further with each passing day, constantly testing how far he could go. He took pleasure in finding new ways to make you submit, from locking you in the room for hours to forcing you to beg for basic human decency His obsession consumed your life, and even his siblings—those who could have saved youstayed silent. Fear had locked them in place, just as thoroughly as it had you.

Then came another evening in the dining room. You were summoned once more, dragged by Five into the presence of his family. He shoved you to your knees at the head of the table, his hands gripping your shoulders, his voice calm and cold.

“Tell them who you belong to,” he whispered In your ear.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting back the tears that threatened to fail “I belong to you,” you whispered, the words barely leaving your lips

“Louder,” he commanded.

“Il belong to you!” you shouted, your voice shaking. The shame burned hotter than the pain, your entire body trembling as you kneit there, broken before the people who should have been your salvation.

Five forced you to the ground, pushing your face against his boots “Kiss them,” he ordered “Show them how grateful you are to be mine.”

With trembling lips, you obeyed, Pressing a kiss to the cold leather. “Good gurl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He looked up at his siblings, daring them to defy him But no one spoke.

Finally, Luther stood, his face a mask of anger. “This Is insane, Five You can't treat her like this”

But Five's eyes didn't even flicker. “She belongs to me, Luther. This ts my right.”

No one dared to challenge him further. Not Luther. Not Diego. Not Allison. They had all seen the depths of his cruelty, and none of them were willing to confront It. And as Five led you back to the bedroom, his grip firm and unytelding, you knew one thing for certain

You weren't going to survive this.

You were his, and that was all that mattered.

#five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #number five #the umbrella academy #yandere #yandere stories #yandere umbrella academy #five umbrella academy #yandere five hargreeves #brellies #aidan gallagher

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edalynn · 11 months ago

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hii hope you don't mind me asking but why do you hate huntlow?? (genuinely curious) I personaly love the owlhouse and kin hunter and it's one if my favorite ships :0

I was just going to not answer this ask as I feel like I've repeated the many reasons I hate hunt/low in the past, but I realize I've never put it all in one place. I'm going to start by linking some asks or posts of mine that are a smorgasbord of things I or others have pointed out regarding what's wrong with the ship itself for some reference points.

X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X | X

And I'll add my "Hunt/low Trope Bingo Card" that gives us a fun diagram of multiple problematic tropes that Hunt/low falls under

Let me start of with the ship itself. Hunt/low quite literally makes both characters' arcs irrelevant. Willow's entire arc about learning to be confident in herself, overcome her bullying, and be strong for herself and her friends is basically entirely erased when you put her with Hunter. Her whole arc is that for a lack of better words, she saved herself and is her own person. Yes, she had the help of Luz and Gus, and later Amity after they began mending their friendship, but her whole thing was being strong and confident on her own. In concept, giving Willow a pretty boy boyfriend immediately makes her arc less impactful than if she's never paired with anyone in the story, because her story is about her own self growth. Not being saved by having a conventionally attractive boyfriend. And in practice, we actually see it happen. Willow is dumbed down and made insanely out of character in almost the entirety of the third season, particularly in FtF. She's shown multiple times throughout the end of the season (Actually, in S2 as well) needing to be physically saved by Hunter specifically when she's always been shown she can stand up for herself before. And, yes, you could argue that "Willow doesn't always need to be the strong one!", and you'd be right! But the fact that the second she becomes friends with Hunter, the way her character is written changes dramatically. We see her need to be saved over and over, and it is literally only by Hunter. If this wasn't the case, I would agree with that, but unfortunately it's not. Her growth and "revolutionary" strong-on-her-own arc is entirely negated if she is put in a relationship with Hunter.

On the flipside, Hunter's arc is just as equally, if not more, irrelevant. Hunter's arc is also about finding himself and finding a group of people that are his pseudo-family. His growth is his journey to becoming his own person, away from his abusive parental figure. In concept, Hunt/low makes all of Hunter's trauma, abuse, and loss meaningless by falling into the trope of "romantic love heals all", which is both dangerous for young fans who will believe that and a slap in the face for every abuse victim that relate to Hunter. It's like saying that nothing bad he experienced mattered or had any lasting impact, because you give him a strong girlfriend and poof! All the problems go away and are solved! And I shouldn't have to explain why that message is insanely harmful. As with Willow, we see this happen in action as well. Any time there's a nod to Hunt/low in the show, Hunter's trauma immediately doesn't seem to matter. This is shown the clearest when he is literally not allowed to grieve Flapjack's death because it "upsets" Willow and he has to run after her to comfort- and later save- her. The writers actually made it so that Hunter is made to feel guilty for showing sadness about Flap because it made Willow feel like she "can't do anything right", making the entire scene about how he had to save her and put his grieving of Flapjack to the side. I think as an abuse victim, this is the one thing about Hunt/low that makes me the angriest. And to dip my toes into a later point- fan creators that ship Hunt/low also do this in their fanworks. Moringmark is a BIG perpetrator of the Hunter abuse denial rhetoric.

The way they are intended to be written, these two arcs contrast each other, not complement them. It makes no sense for them to be shipped. And further, the context & content we get in the actual show has a staggering lack of depth or intention. Every interaction they have feels out of character and as if their personalities have to be entirely re-worked for them to even interact- and those are just the miniscule amount of times they actually interact. There's almost no actual content for Hunt/low in the show, it's never acknowledged by other characters how they do with Lumity and Raeda, and they literally almost never interact in the show until FtF. There is no logical reason that anyone should assume they were even interested in each other (aside from Hunter's blink-and-you-miss-it blushes) and you could probably count on both hands how many times they actually interacted with each other on screen both before the Day of Unity, and until FtF. And I'd go as far as to say that when they do interact, they barely even act like friends. Willow spends almost the entirety of TtT ignoring Hunter (assumably unintentionally, but they almost never interact and the episode was literally based around Hunter as one of the main characters in it) aside from the hair cutting scene- which contextually made no sense to be done by Willow- and the after-possession scene- also made no sense contextually for him to have his head on Willow's lap. She literally makes fun of him at one point, with Amity being the one to basically say "guys that's mean, Hunter I don't want you to get made fun of by others please change". How does any of that read as a healthy or loving ship? Much less even a friendship. By the time they get to the Human Realm, Willow and Hunter have interacted, what, maybe three times? Once during ASIAS (Where Willow forgives him way faster than she should have for her character, when she literally took months to fully forgive Amity- and Ami didn't kidnap her), Once during LR (Where Willow literally is shown as not caring, liking, or trusting Hunter until he says something that proves he was with Gus), and then on the mission with Luz & co. to rescue Amity leading to the Day of Unity. The ship both in context & in practice completely obliterate not only both characters' arcs as stated above, but also wreck their personalities, making them every other generic girl and boy in a generic m/f ship.

Moving onto the fandom in relation to Hunt/low. Let me set the scene. This show, The Owl House, in and of itself is for a Queer audience. That doesn't mean cishet people cannot enjoy it, but it is a silent "stay in your lane". TOH was REVOLUTIONARY for Queer mainstream media with the main character being the first main character on an animated show by Disney to be openly Queer. Luz is openly bisexual and has a girlfriend! She comes out to her mom! Her adoptive mother, one of the other 3 main characters, ends up in a canon relationship with her Highschool Sweetheart, a nonbinary person, and is ALSO openly bisexual! So why is Hunt/low treated as if it is the "third main ship" on TOH, when it ISN'T EVEN CANON. Why is it treated as if it's on the same level as Lumity and Raeda!? Why are there fanartists and other creators that ONLY draw or write Hunt/low!? It's insulting honestly! And I, as a queer person, am being so dead serious. it's fucking insulting. And the way Hunt/low shippers treat people that don't ship it is disgusting. Their go-to defense tends to be "Crying Wolf", or claiming any kind of "-phobia" they can to make their ship seem "more valid". You have no idea the amount of times I and my mutuals have been called "biphobic" or "fatphobic" or any number of other insults. When more often than not, It's Hunt/low shippers that I see ignoring Hunter's bisexuality, or worse, disparaging people for shipping Hunter in a mlm relationship. Or worse- saying certain ships (Huntric/Goldric) are inc/estuous because of Aladarius, which also is not even canon (And neither is "Dadrius" while I'm at it, but that's a totally different argument for a different day.). I see them use his bisexuality as fodder constantly. And I won't even mention the mischaracterization by every single Hunt/low fan I've ever seen, making Willow anywhere from Girlboss to Tradwife or Mom Girlfriend, and Hunter from Malewife to Wet Cat to Protector Boyfriend.

The crew also did not help the situation at all. Multiple Storyboard artists or other crew members have openly admitted to attempting to (or succeeding to) force Hunt/low into the storyline, always at the scolding of Dana who would make them remove it or tone it down as it didn't fit her vision of the show. I've seen multiple crewmembers say this- it's not just a one off thing. Or the crew member who once said she didn't care that the ship name "Winter" (the crew's ship name for Hunt/low) made it hard to block/tag because she liked how it sounded. It's just. I've seen so many instances of Dana's crew being that disrespectful to her and attempting to push their own personal feelings and ideas into the show against her wishes.

I could probably go on forever, so I'll stop here. But yeah. That's the basics of why Hunt/low is a shitty, harmful ship.

#taako talks #asks #anons #the owl house #toh #huntl0w negative #toh hunter #hunter toh #hunter noceda #hunter wittebane #hunter clawthorne #willow park #toh willow #long post

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azure-firecracker · 8 months ago

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ATLA Live Action Episode 6: Overall Thoughts.

I have mixed feelings about this one. It made the least changes from the original, which means I have nothing really to commend it on that the original didn’t already do, but at the same time, I don’t have anything to complain about either. In isolation, it is a very good episode of television. In isolation, it’s the best episode yet, but I have a harder time crediting it because most of the good stuff in here is from the original. Onto the specifics:

This episode continued the trend I don’t love of Aang being just a vessel for cliché heroic lines. I get that the show is supposed to have a more mature tone, and maybe some of Aang’s more childish traits wouldn’t have translated well, but they could have at least put SOMETHING interesting in there.

In terms of the Aang/Roku scene, I didn’t love it. I don’t like this “the avatar must not have friends” dilemma the show is pushing. It’s tired. We’ve seen it in every fantasy show. A variation of this could work as part of Aang’s work, but it doesn’t work as his central conflict. It’s too overdone.

Also, Katara wasn’t in this episode, so I couldn’t get annoyed at them for butchering her character. Definite plus.

Another plus was June! Didn’t love her flirting with Iroh but she was fun and entertaining. Arden Cho did a wonderful job. I hope they bring her back more, she’d be a great recurring fun character to have around.

I did love all the stuff with Zuko. I loved the juxtaposition between younger, idealistic, naive Zuko and current, hardened Zuko. Even though live action Zuko is softer than animated Zuko, this episode really did a good job of showing how he has been hardened by his experiences, relative to what he once was. I liked his conversation with Aang, and how the two clearly have a connection despite their circumstances. I generally like it when those types of stories are played out in a non-romantic context because it’s so rare. A lot of the lines between them were a bit cliché, but they worked (except for the line going right into the flashback where Aang was like “You can’t have always been this way. That one was a little heavy handed).

In terms of the flashback itself:

Younger Zuko seems softer and more naive than animated Zuko, which works with the way we see Zuko here. He had a lot of good lines, especially his line about giving the weak a chance. I know some people didn’t like that he fought back against Ozai in the Agni Kai, but to me it worked. It showed that he was still trying to please his father, and just how willing he was to sacrifice his morals to do it (though not willing enough for Ozai).

Speaking of Ozai, I find it interesting how he’s portrayed here. The original show portrayed him as very uncaring, willing to banish Zuko for disobedience but not really caring if he came back. Here it almost seems like he genuinely thinks this is good parenting, like he genuinely believes this will make Zuko stronger. Obviously he’s still horrible and abusive, but I actually think it works better than the original. It goes hand in hand with how he seems to really think he’s doing the right thing for the world with the FN (because newsflash…that’s what imperialism is!) A villain who really thinks they’re right is always more interesting than one who just wants power and is horrible. I think they could do interesting things with him and I’m intrigued.

Iroh was really sweet in this episode. I liked that he tried to stop Ozai from having the Agni Kai, and that he was with Zuko afterwards. It always puzzled me why he didn’t do that in the first place, and while Iroh having flaws makes sense (he should have flaws!) that particular flaw didn’t seem right, so I liked that addition.

And rounding out the fire family flashback (haha alliteration!) we have Azula. She didn’t really do anything here but the bangs were a great choice! I found it a bit weird that the camera kept zooming in on her expression during Zuko’s burning, but her expression was very neutral. It’s another change I like from the original. I think Azula smiling in the original works and is super interesting, but this show is clearly taking steps to make her more humanized right off the bat, which I appreciate as an Azula stan who has to deal with…many people who don’t see her as human. I’m not sure what to make of her expression, but I did notice that it’s the same one she used when Ozai burned the spy in episode 3 (good job Lizzy Yu!) It seems like a mix of fear and joy and detachment, like she’s trying to relish it but also she knows it could happen to her, but she doesn’t want to admit that, and also she just wants to detach from what’s happening. It can be interpreted in many ways!

One minor thing: I didn’t like that this Agni Kai was outside. The really dark, all red, fiery throne room looked a lot more menacing. And they literally already have that set! Having it outside made it look so much more mundane.

Back to the present:

Blue Spirit escape sequence was great! Again, basically torn from the original so no surprise there. I appreciate that they didn’t feel the need to change everything, and the mask looked great. I also loved Iroh’s last line about the mask being the real you. That’s a theme that could come back for a number of characters (Aang, Zuko, Katara, Azula, Mai and Ty Lee…) And I did get this spoiled, but the addition of Zuko’s crew being the 41st was great. Lovely. Super sweet. A wonderful way to pull at the heartstrings.

I’ll give this episode a 9/10. A very strong episode of television, but I can’t give it a 10 because the strongest stuff is plucked from the OG.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #netflix atla #natla #atla live action #atla stream of consciousness #aang #roku #katara #zuko #iroh #ozai #azula #june atla

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hestzhyen · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 44 Museposting

Hello internet void. What a great conclusion to a fantastic arc! I'm locked in and ready to spend the rest of my life with this manga now. ...Maybe. No matter how the manga proceeds from here, I'll hold the Rakuzaichi arc close to my heart for it's nuanced examination of family and duty. And for introducing my favorite character in ages.

Hakuri the precious unhinged bean is STAYING! Another rescued abuse victim for the goldfish bowl, hooray! I hope he isn't shelved after this arc but my goodness he definitely deserves a break. The whole cast does, yeah, but this boy still has a lot to process.

I love how Hakuri's character arc is resolved here - he's finally free to choose his own path after everything he's been through. Ice Lady broke him out of the Sazanami mindset, Chihiro proved there was hope for him, and Shiba gave him an opening to leave his cage behind. Now he can truly find out what's waiting for him beyond the misery and despair he lived with for so long. Oh Hakuri, you deserve all the happiness you find.

And once again, Chihiro's empathy is on full (if somewhat subdued) display. The scene of him wanting to encourage Hakuri as he says he's lost now that his dad is dead squeezed my heart into pieces. Yeah, Kyoura was shitty. But losing an abusive parent isn't a ticket to sudden happiness and purpose most of the time. They were still your guiding star, as Hakuri himself says- for better and worse. Especially if they only became overtly abusive later in your life. The grief that comes with their passing is hella complicated and often leaves you feeling worse off even if your life will be objectively better from now on.

Hakuri was in survival mode for so long thanks to Kyoura that he doesn't know what to do now. He and his remaining family are better off without each other too. Chihiro probably doesn't grasp the complexities of this kind of grief but he does know what it's like to lose everything and be set adrift in the world far too young. So he gently reminds Hakuri of the potential waiting for him outside of the cage...

... and Hakuri responds so sweetly:

Aaaah my heart. You shouldn't talk about yourself like you're property, Hakuri!

This gives me some hope that we're not quite done with him yet. Hakuri's free now but he (understandably) has a low opinion of himself. He still feels the weight of failing the Ice Lady and Chihiro trading Enten for his life and wants to do more. Be more. Feel worthy of what they've done for him. And who better to help him make the most of his new lease on life than the guy he sees as hope incarnate? The grief might overwhelm him at times, and the effects of the abuse he endured won't fade for quite some time. But he'll be alright as long as he's with his samurai.

This is Chihiro's story above all else so I don't think we'll get another deep dive into Hakuri unless it's to further our protagonist's character. But I'm waiting to see what he's set up to do going in to (what appears to be) the Kamunabi arc with baited breath. I hope he really does get to be Chihiro's equal instead of learning the art of Offscreen Sorcery from Shiba. And even though it'll probably be Hiyuki's turn to shine next, I hope she doesn't overtake him in terms of importance to Chihiro's story and the narrative as a whole.

I'll save the doomposting for another time (if it's even warranted). I've got a ton to say about Hakuri now that the arc is over, but that'll probably be a separate post made while we all succumb to brain rot during the break. But yeah. Hakuri. I love him so much. I just hope I'm not pining for scraps of him after all the work the author put in to making him so endearing.

No dwelling on what-ifs! Onward! What about that random shot of a drum?

I think it's interesting that we get a small panel of taiko/wadaiko. They have nothing to do with any major themes in the arc itself, other than the sticks used to hit them being called bachi (Hokazono probably patted himself on the back for that one). I think it's used to lend a sense of finality to the end of the proceedings for the Sazanami clan. These drums have a variety of uses through their long history in Japanese culture, but the one most relevant here I think is in theater and performance arts. Small taiko drums are used to help accentuate performances by setting the mood. Here in Kagurabachi, I think it's specifically linked to Kyoura's line at the end of Ch. 39:

Yeah, the origin of the meme. The EN translation is apparently pretty conservative while the original JP line had more of a showman flair to it. "The show must go on" or along those lines. I'm not a pro at Japanese by any stretch, but it would tie in nicely to the continued use of performance-related terms in this week's chapter. The cruel spectacle is over for good. The curtains are drawn and it's time for all the living participants to go home.

2/2 on destroyed buildings marking the end of an arc. Let's keep it up!

But what is next, indeed? How many people expected Chihiro to try joining the Kamunabi, anyway?! Definitely wasn't on my short list of things that could happen, but I'm really warming up to the idea because of what it says for him as a character.

Normally, a shounen protagonist is someone who is reacting to the plot as it happens. Even if they're out to change the status quo, something has to occur to give them an opportunity to act (yes, even after they've answered the Call to Adventure). Bad guy acts first, something happens to a loved one, natural disaster strikes, etc. The universe gives them an opening and the protagonist strikes. But here, Chihiro creates his own opportunity.

Hiyuki and Tafuku could have just taken the blade away from him in his weakened state and left him at square one trying to find leads. Most authors would take this development path I think! But this is Kagura-fucking-bachi so we get to see another fascinating side to Chihiro instead.

Chihiro recognizes that he doesn't know as much as he thought about his dad's legacy. And that he can't continue his crusade without some serious power on par with the Hishaku clan. So instead of doing the typical shounen protagonist thing and resolving to push through adversity with friendship and sheer force of will, he adjusts his tactics. His resolve is intact but his strategy is changing.

This was indirectly foreshadowed courtesy of Shiba in ch. 12 and reinforced by John Hishaku in Ch. 32:

Don't you love it when characters consistently actually act how we're told they do? Chihiro's always thinking and learning; he's not waiting for fate to give him a chance. No matter how strongly he feels about recovering the swords, he's able to accurately assess his own situation and make the most rational decision (hot-headed moves fueled by deep empathy for others being an exception). I love a protagonist that recognizes when they're out of their depth and adjusts accordingly, man. No practicing slamming his head against a brick wall until it breaks for this guy- he'll find some scaffolding to climb over it instead. Or ask a badass woman to punch a hole through it for him.

I also think it's quite significant that Chihiro's directly asking others for help now. In the beginning he seemed uneasy about letting others share the burden of his father's legacy, but now he's trusting Hiyuki and the Kamunabi to help him manage it. Obviously he's asking to join because he won't let them take full control and responsibility, but he's still facing reality head-on. How will that play out for him? Opening up to Hakuri and trusting in him paid off massively, so maybe it'll work out again?

The last time he worked with the Kamunabi, most of the squad was wiped out by Sojo though. I would not be surprised to see a grudge match of some kind between Chihiro and Kazane despite both of them being on the same side in the same org this time... but we've gotten a few glimpses of all kinds of potential inter-group conflict since very early on. It's not surprising that the Hishaku may want to exacerbate those fractures by letting the Kamunabi get a hold of Magatsumi:

Ch. 7

Ch. 11

Ch. 18

Ch. 22

Ch. 24

So as of Ch. 44, it's clear that internal politics will play a major role...

Chihiro I love you for being able to put the pieces together yourself instead of relying on someone else like other protagonists often have to do.

I expect that working within the Kamunabi will help Chihiro form a firm opinion on whether or not they can be trusted to help him in the long-term. It'll probably also be Hiyuki's development arc as she reconciles her ideals, what she sees in Chihiro, and what she's witnessed at the Rakuzaichi with how the group operates.

I don't want to speculate too much on exactly how it'll all play out but I'm so freakin' hyped man. This is also a great chance to learn more about Kunishge, Azami, Shiba, and the Seitei War...! Oh man! LORE! WORLDBUILDING! I live and breathe for this kinda stuff when it's done well. The war criminals' different takes on the Kamunabi have had me interested in the org for a while now so I wonder what Chihiro will think of them by the end of the arc. Will he be able to work with them for the rest of the series? Will they splinter due to their internal conflicts and the Hishaku's machinations? Will Hiyuki stay with them or go her own way? I want to know! Hmm... on the topic of working with the Kamunabi... I know I said earlier that Chihiro's been opening up since he met Hakuri and is willing to work with the Kamunabi full-time now, but I don't believe he's at the point where he's willing to fully entrust the dangerous, painful parts of his dad's legacy to other people yet. Chihiro's still feeling personally responsible for the deaths the sword WMDs are causing while putting all the pressure to succeed on his own head. He's letting other people help him out but it's his duty alone to minimize the damage. I won't be surprised if this is touched on either in the Kamunabi arc or a later one. Keeping Shiba's "you'll break" line in mind once more, I think Chihiro learning to share his pain and burden could be a major turning point for him.

I don't want to say it must or will happen -I'm not the writer. I just think it's a very potent thread that's had some buildup since the start. Who can Chihiro trust to help him with more than logistics and fighting? Does he even need someone like that or is he going to become strong enough though learning from his enemies? I'm really interested in seeing if the little family he's building will be able to do more than cheer him on from offscreen at the very least... I've got some worries about the story structure going forward but I want to wait and see what happens in the next arc before letting my hopes be crushed.

Seriously, I'm not going to doompost yet. Really. I'm just going to fucking die waiting an extra week to see what happens next.

#kagurabachi #long post #I didn't realize I had so much to say but here we are #Lore and politics and world building arc HERE WE COME! PLEASE!#Saving the doomposting evidence until the next arc is underway will be torture but dwelling is pointless when we hardly know anything yet #I just don't like stories that introduce compelling characters and treat them like plot conveniences once their introduction arcs are done #I'm the dumb one for getting hyperfixated on a supporting cast member though #I will do it again because I never learn #Still on my bullshit about Hakuri being the heroine character until proven otherwise.#Hakuri being overshadowed or replaced by Hiyuki and/or Kazane will destroy me if I'm being completely honest though.

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