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winterzsurprise · 3 days

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Change My Mind [3]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory

Words: 8.8k

ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.

edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD

[1] [2] [3]

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For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.

It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.

One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home.

In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.

But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.

Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.

“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”

Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects.

They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask.

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.

Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.

All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ .

Whatever it is, you're thankful.

“Hey, you still with us?”

Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”

At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.

Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.

Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.

“Is it boy problems?”

Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.

“Which one of them?”

“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”

“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”

“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”

“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”

Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.

“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”

Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.

In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.

It was absurd.

Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.

(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)

To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.

“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.

Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”

Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.

“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit.

At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.

Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.

There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.

So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.

“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.

“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”

At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”

You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.

That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.

You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.

Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.

You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.

“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”

Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”

“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”

“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.

The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.

“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”

You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.

The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.

Almost.

“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”

“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”

The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.

[13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor

[13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏

[13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.

[12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon!

[13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during.

[13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.

[13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢

[13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona

[13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba

[13:04] Hobi: YAY

[13:04] You: how can I help you?

[13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁

[13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance

[13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it

[13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺

[13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room?

[13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver

[13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise

[13:07] Hobi: but yes😁

[13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”

With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at.

The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.

If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.

Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.

“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”

“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”

“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”

“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”

“What are we talking about?”

Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.

“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”

When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.

He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch.

Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.

“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”

Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.

“You know that we love you right, noona?”

Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.

“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.

“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”

“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing a cross over his chest. The other four follow.

Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful.

Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room.

In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.

Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.

From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest.

Is your friendship still okay?

Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group?

Should you have chosen someone as your sister had told you to do?

They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.

But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.

As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.

“Noona!”

At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.

As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.

“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”

They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.

A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”

“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.

“Then go do it yourself!”

“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.

There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.

There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.

Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.

“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”

“You didn't need to, I already ate.”

“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”

It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.

After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams.

It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”

“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”

“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”

Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.

“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.”

You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.

“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!”

“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.

Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.

Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do. It was in the way he tried soothing you with back rubs and this tight hug.

“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”

He sighed.

“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”

Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”

His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”

“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”

“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”

“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”

With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument.

Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.

“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.

Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.

Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.

“Is it all bulgogi?”

Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.

“That's not a proper answer.”

“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.

Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.

But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day.

But fried rice isn't healthy.

“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.

With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.

“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”

“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”

Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.

You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.

“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”

People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.

If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.

Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.

You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.

He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.

It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.

Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

[13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building

You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days?

Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.

There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.

During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.

You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.

Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.

Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.

There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.

[13:55] You: Oh wow, which one?

[13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe.

[13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me?

[13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you

[13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”

Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.

“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”

His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.

But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?

You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?

“How’d you know I need help?”

“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”

Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face.

“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”

“I-I am.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”

You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”

“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”

“What is it?”

“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”

You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.

“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”

With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.

“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”

“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”

While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.

The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.

Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.

There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.

It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.

The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for.

It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.

“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”

“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”

He chuckled lightly. “Good.”

Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls .

Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.

“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.

Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.

It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?

“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.

Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.

‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.

Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.

“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”

Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

“She's been telling you guys about me?”

“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”

Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.

“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”

“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”

He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”

“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”

His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.

“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”

When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patron’s stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.

Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and and you just happen to be assigned to him that day.

You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.

A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder and Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt.

You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.

“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”

Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.

“Message me when you’re home, alright?”

Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door.

You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.

But why does he have to walk so fast?!

You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on

He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before.

But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.

“I don’t like him.”

It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.

(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)

“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”

“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone would. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”

You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night.

Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?

Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?

“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”

“That's dumb.”

He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”

“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.

“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it stopped as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”

“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”

“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for me to renew our contract next year and I'll marry you.”

He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.

You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you were.

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”

“Seokjin also got those.”

He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a playful glint in his eyes.

“You know what they say about my tongue right?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.

When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.

“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

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galeorderbride · 1 day

Text

Forgiving the Flame for a Burn - Zevlor x F!Tav Fic Request

An angst/comfort/smut piece for @evocationwriter. Thank you so much for asking me to do this piece, I adore you! Xx

This is SMUT (tags/details below)

18+ MDNI

Summary:

One year after the defeat of the Elder Brain, Tav is trying to settle into daily life. But being a hero means the making of enemies, and Tav ends up on the wrong side of the city, with the wrong kinds of people.

That is, until a charming, former Hellrider steps in, saving her from the worst and taking her into his home for the night.

Tags: angst, comfort, smut. Unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), light orgasm denial, tail play, tiefling anatomy (infernal ridges, forked tongue), religious language used; some detailed depictions of a violent attack (beating to be specific)

Word count: 5k

Zevlor x F!Tav

No one talks about the end of a hero’s journey. Tav found herself thinking of that often, ever since the Elder Brain fell by the hand of her and her companions. Subjects of bard’s songs and children’s puppet performances, all of them bending to the whim of ‘thank yous’ and questions about adventures. All of them fading over time into nothing. People moved on, they had to, of course. Rebuilding homes, restarting businesses, schools and cleaning up parks. Life went on, and the looks of admiration as she’d wander the streets dissolved.

Needless to say, that wasn’t all bad. Walking around the city gave her a sense of anonymity she’d missed in the year since the brain’s defeat. While she had fond memories of children asking for autographs and telling tales at the Elfsong to curious attendees, the harassment and threats from those who felt nostalgia for the cult of the Absolute soured the experience. Every time she’d think about it, memories of Stone Lord exiles and concealed Banites taunting her with torture fled to mind.

Now, she could relax. Bask in the beauty of city living with no one to bother her (other than letters from her companions and comrades, which always excited her). Evening slowly began to fall, a wondrous sunset disembarking for the night as shopkeepers lit sconces outside their doors and brought in their signs. Fishmongers and tradesmen met in the streets to coalesce at either the Blushing Mermaid or the Elfsong. Parents corralled their children to follow them home after a day at the markets. Tav walked among them, smiling at the peace of normality she’d never forget again.

On nights like this one, Tav would look up above the Elfsong and see Alfira strumming her lute on the balcony. By now, she’d been giving lessons to children at her very own music studio for the last three or four months. Even then, she’d still go up to that rooftop and sing her heart out. Tav felt remorse every time she gazed upon the dazzling tiefling, guilt in her heart that, rather than enjoy the music, her soul yearned for the presence of a different tiefling entirely.

A year since she saw Zevlor at the final battle. A year since she’d discovered he survived. A year—and not a single letter. Everyone else reached out to her but him. In the weeks following, she wracked her brain for anything she might’ve said wrong. Any word that could be taken as an insult. Only he knew, and that would be just so forever.

She ignored the chest aches now, and the tingling in her abdomen that sometimes made her knees shake. Hoping one day they’d fade away like her fame. One outlived the other.

Was he even in Baldur’s Gate anymore?

Clearing her throat, she kept walking. Straightening her shoulders. New bottles of dye clinked against each other in her basket, held close to her stomach. In her daydream, the clock tower struck nine, startling her as she realized she’d been standing there for too long.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, forced to face her newfound fear of walking alone outside ever since anonymous former cultists began to harass her. She chastised herself for going today, irritated that she didn’t just wait until tomorrow morning.

Sticking to the main road, Tav hurried her step through the emptying streets. The end of a tenday, people looking for a rowdy night out were trickling into every space they could get drunk. Irrationality kicked in, everyone became an enemy, and no one had even noticed her yet. She repeated in her mind: Tav, get yourself together, you fought an elder brain. You can take anything a mere civilian can hit you with. Just walk.

Halfway home, things were normal. Everyone ignored her, and she felt her shoulders begin to calm as she neared her destination. The sky grew dark, only the light of the crescent moon peering behind the overcast lit her way. Little droplets of rain began to dot her face, she lifted her cape hood for shelter. Right as heavy footsteps trailed behind. The jungle of buckled boots and a person at least twice her size, she could discern that without even looking.

“The hero of Baldur’s Gate! Walking about these parts alone at night. Guess you don’t need brains to be a saviour, huh?” The voice behind her said. A man with a gravelly voice, slurred with drunkenness and malice.

Tav tried to ignore him, swallowing her fear as she kept walking at a brisk stride. One or two minutes and she’d be home. Counting the seconds, in tandem with the footsteps continuing to pursue her. Now in a quiet street, no one was around to help or witness whatever the man behind her had planned.

“Don’t run off so quick, sweet one! Sing me one of those ballads made about you! Bet it’ll sound sweet gurgling out of your throat when I cut it!” He chided, a growl so feral within him she could mistake him for a wild animal.

Another voice poked through an alleyway she passed, another men bumping her with his shoulder, rough enough to send her steps back against a wall. He said, “Father will love this at his temple doorstep, brother.”

Bhaalists. She should’ve known the ones to keep pestering her after all this time would be them. Likely a worse nightmare than anyone else, given their propensity for insane, maniacal violence. Were they even drunk? Or was that a farce to blend in with the city?

“Leave me be! I’ve killed more than you for less,” she said, sucking in her frightened breath.

Both of them cornered her, trudging towards her and beginning to push her around between the two. Smaller than both of them, she struggled to fight back as her basket of dyes shattered to the ground. Catching them off guard just quick enough for her to throw a punch in the face of one. He fell back, grunting in pain as the other smacked Tav against the brick wall. A sharp ache ran across her spine, the wind knocked out of her to completion when the one she punched slammed his fist into her stomach.

Gasping for breath, they let her collapse to the ground. Holding her abdomen tight, the roof of her mouth dryer than sand. Catching impossible air as the two paced around her, predators toying with their prey. That hit to her stomach so hard that she couldn’t find the strength to get up let alone fight back. Gods, was she really done in so quickly? Had she softened so much in just a year?

Most of the time, they were four at least. Now, she was one. And defeated in a matter of minutes. Dye stained her clothing as she twitched around the ground, feeling a harsh sting of hands clawing at her hair, pulling her back.

“Not so heroic now, are you?” The one that held her hair teased, giggles oozing with evil.

“Enough dawdling,” said the other, sheathing out a sharp, shining knife. “Tie her up to take her to the temple.”

Right when they began to tie the rope around her, a swing of a longsword sliced across one’s throat. Tav didn’t see all of it, still reeling from the punch. But the second one began to fight against her rescuer. Behind her writhing body, the sound of punching, stabbing and armour sliding against leather permeated the air.

And then nothing. Quiet air mixing with laboured breath, a few growling sighs to follow. Ones she recognized after a few seconds. A calming but assertive tone that used to excite her beyond belief.

“Z—,” she tried to say his name, but coughed instead. Recovering from the punch to the gut, breathless all the same.

Warm arms wrapped around her, lifted into an embrace healing her in seconds. Heat coursing within each injured vein, the tender flesh of a tiefling’s hold. Her head hung back against his arm, aching stomach muscles jolting. But the rest of her soul eased with the shelter of safety, letting him take her wherever he deemed right.

It could’ve been minutes. Or hours. Awakening in a soft bed covered in thick furs and clean sheets. Glowing candlelight against stone walls and the blurry flame of a burning fireplace. Sparks flew across the mantle as a broad shouldered, tailed man threw another log in. Trickling liquid poured from a clay pot, steaming scents of green tea and lemon soothing her into full awareness. No more pain, other than a small ache in her abdomen. For a second, she wondered if she’d died.

Tav shifted on the mattress, wincing from her sore muscles. At the corner of her eye were her dye-soaked clothes, hanging to dry after being washed. Bare arms and legs slid around the linen fabric of her ivory slip. Hair swept back from her face in a loose, well done braid.

“Am I dead?” She whispered, groaning out remnants of her voice as if she’d forgotten she had one.

The man turned from the fireplace, rushing to the bedside. Seating himself on the stool directly next to her, she could clearly make out the weathered, handsome features of Zevlor. Pouring tea like an old friend, not someone who’d been silent for a year.

“Not dead, Tav. You can’t imagine how glad I am that you’re awake. After those mongrels attacked you…I feared the worst,” he said, handing her the small cup as she sat up. Zevlor outstretched his hand as she winced, but pulled back before he could touch her.

Her eyes closed with the peace of green tea on the tongue. Pushing away the thoughts of the attack, burdened by yet another memory of pain. She chose another route, “You saved me. I don’t know how you found me but thank you, I owe you for such a gesture.”

With a cordial nod of a soldier, he said, “Think nothing of it. I—well, it’s a long story but I’ve made a living through private security. I was coming home from a job when I saw you in the street. Found you just in time before you slipped into that alleyway.”

She cupped the mug in her hands, resting on her cross-legged lap. A skipped beat of her heart went aflutter when she caught Zevlor’s eyes linger over her bare legs, and back to her face in a split second.

“I didn’t even know you were in the city,” she said, “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

Zevlor shifted, eyes darting away from her to every other corner of the room. The place was small, fit for a single man who didn’t want for much. Exactly him, melding in with the space as he paced around with his arms crossed. Keeping his distance as he always did even when they had fought together, even after the celebration…

“Certainly, I owe you an apology for that. There is still much agony in going into it but—I was in a bad way after the final battle. An injury of the mind, if you will. Times were hard, too hard to reach out to you with any confidence,” he explained.

“I expected no less, after all that happened. Only that, well I thought we’d become close. That maybe you’d find some peace through my support. But,” she trailed off as her hands shook, shock of what happened to her still dominant over her, “seems you supported me.”

Her feet hit the cold floor, trying to stand up while wobbling about. Just as her hips moved off the mattress, she stumbled downward. Zevlor strode over, hooking his arms around her, lifting her back onto the bed. In her panic, she clutched him without mercy. Holding him so close to her that he fell forward, knees landing on the bed as she lay under him. Hovering over her, he saw the quick rise and fall of her chest, struggling to properly exhale. Bringing him back to their moment alone at the Grove celebration, when he comforted her, held her as she wrestled with the fear she had to hide for her companion’s sakes. Here he was again, taking one, brave move to slide the strap of her slip back onto her shoulder.

“Zevlor…please don’t leave,” she said as she felt him move away, feeling his heart shred at the discomfort of being so close. No matter how much he craved it. Craved her.

He sighed, “You’re terrified, shocked from what happened. I don’t want to get in your way and make things worse.”

As he pulled away, she stabilized her tremored hand by grasping his wrist, “You haven’t made things worse. Remember when you sat with me at the party? When I confessed to you how afraid I was of everything? You helped me so much back then, how could now be any different?”

Zevlor faced away, staring into the firelight as Tav waited. He could not retreat from the visions of their last meeting. How she cried to him, and told him she felt safe in the comfort of his arms. Sitting in a grassy, humid corner away from the rest of the guests. Sheltered by fern leaves and flowers, he let her talk and talk about all that troubled her. Felt so touched by her vulnerability that he shared his own worries too. Two of them, absorbed in isolating fear and finding each other in the dark. Hands wandering around with each kind word, and then the arousing jolt of remembering her naked flesh against his. Tail wrapped around her ankle while they made love under the plant covered moonlight. So beautiful under him, sensations he never thought he’d experience again.

He thought of making her his again so many times after. But in between then and now, he kept failing. Falling into disorder and defeat. People dying for his mistakes. Who would want someone like that? A man so past his prime he verged on cowardice, next to the hero of Baldur’s Gate. How could that ever make sense?

“Both of us were vulnerable at that time. You’re recovering from an attack, and…well, I know you appreciate honesty. My body is so excited from the fight, and from seeing you again, that if I get close enough I might take you here and now. Even though I’d come to regret being so forceful,” he explained.

Hot shame filled every corner of his face just for saying it. Avoiding her gaze even as she took deep breaths, standing from the bed again. This time, with success. Still slow, but steady in each step closer to Zevlor by the fireplace.

“You were always so hesitant about what you wanted,” Tav said, close behind him. The glow of the fire warmed one side of her exposed arms, fingers tickling against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Brushing the tip of her nose against his spine, taking in the scent of brimstone and pine. Her strength regained with each graze of her palm against him, light and teasing.

“I venture to deserve the things I want first,” he said, head down towards the flame. Closing his eyes to the feeling of Tav’s hand sliding from the back of his arm to the top of his hand. Rested on the mantle as she gave a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t that up to me to decide?” She asked, taking the strap he once adjusted in place and pulling it down again. “You saved my life today. And I missed you terribly, Zevlor.”

Hand in hand, she turned him to face her. Tall and soldierly in front of her, head craning up to face him in all his glory. Fire crackled before them, leading her hand guiding his to her waist. His nails craved to dig into her skin, pull her close and never let go. She tiptoed into his embrace, other arm around her back, forming a gentle, passionate hug. Feeling her skin against his again, he was happy to die that moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want tonight? It was not my intention when I took you in to do this,” he said, wondering if she heard a word he said. She pushed their faces closer, lips hovering around each other. Temptation already too difficult bear as his mouth opened to bite into her supple flesh, but stopped short. “I won’t be able to control myself if you allow me this.”

Tav’s cool breath danced along his tongue, a full body desire to sob over how much she wanted him. To do what they did last time and pretend the world didn’t exist.

“You make me feel safe, Zevlor. I’ve been on my guard ever since we parted. Do you know how wonderful it feels to just…relax? Please, I want you near me. Inside me all night. Just like at the Grove. Hold me, Zevlor,” Tav said, her voice a crescendo of emotion from whisper to yelp.

Words weren’t enough, he had to be shown. Tav ruminated that very idea ever since they last parted. How a commander of a group like the Hellriders could end up so unsure of himself. Maybe he wasn’t always like that, but he was now. And she wasn’t inclined to change a thing. She laced her fingers under the straps of her slip, letting the fabric slowly waterfall off her body. In the wake of her naked form before him, she swore she could hear his beating heart. Rapid and fiery like the burning glimmer of the room.

“Can you promise me one thing?” He asked, hands pressed against her cheeks, lifting her eyes up to him. Round and ablaze with desire, warm and cool at the same time.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Do not leave in the morning,” he said.

“I’ll never leave if that’s what you require.”

It was a kiss like never before. A whirlwind heart attack imploding between the two of them. Zevlor’s soul rose out of his body, taken over by the beckoning ache of her open mouth, welcoming his forked tongue. Tav melted into him, relishing in the hot pleasure of pressing her bare body against his clothed one. She clawed at his belt, longing for the image of his warrior frame above her. Scarred and toned by years of combat. Tail swivelling back and forth, a supplicant tying around her supple thigh.

Their voices hummed into each other, a hymn of blossoming want. Walking in tandem to the bed as Zevlor climbed over her, shuddering at the pleasure of pushing between her legs. He sat up on his knees, stretching his flexed back muscles as he pulled off his cotton shirt. A tingling sensation spread between Tav’s legs, cool air biting at her wet, sensitive core. She couldn’t resist the urge to run her hands across his torso, savouring every scar and mark, repeating her movements when he’d moan. His belt jingled below, unclasped as the imprint of a large erection outlined his pants. He was an impressive man…everywhere.

“Pull them down slowly, I want to see,” Tav ordered, voice dark and wistful with lust.

“At your command, my beautiful goddess,” he said, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. Taking slow, painful time in pulling down his trousers. Tav bit her lip, the excitement almost too much. A little tuft of pubic hair opened the door to a long, thick shaft, bouncing against Zevlor’s stomach when it finally broke free. Her mouth watered, licking up the collection of desperate saliva at the top corner of her lip.

Her heart fluttered, body hot and assured unlike before. That was the spell Zevlor had her under since they’d met. Empowering her just from being close, reminding her of the strength she still had. Not a thing of the past, but something to be embraced. And now, she had a chance to stay with him for more than a night. Protect each other, and revel in their primal need to be attached.

Discarding his pants with the rest of his clothes, Zevlor lowered, kissing between her bare breasts and down to her stomach. Heartfelt, exciting tickles made her giggle with a flirtatious ring. Shivering at the scratches his nails left in their stead. Relaxing every nerve within as she lay in his embrace, letting him take the lead. She hoped he’d always give her a chance to let go this way, think about nothing other than the pleasure he’d cover her in.

Between peppered kisses and flicks of his tongue along her stomach, he whispered, “You’re mine, I’ve wanted you to be since the moment I saw you. I’ll protect you, keep you safe. Come here.”

With untold force, Zevlor swung Tav’s legs onto his shoulders, capturing her cunt in his mouth. Jolts of ecstasy wet and savoured with each slide of his tongue across her clit. Sucking, licking, moaning into her without any attempt to catch his breath. Driven each time he tasted more of her essence. Unbridled to the point where she had to hold his horns to keep balance. The temperature of his hellfire skin stimulated her even more, muscles tightening with every weakened, whimpering moan that escaped her. Assertive, but slow, gentle even as he became primal against her. Letting the rhythm take her exactly where she needed to be.

Tav’s moans fluttered like butterflies, one hand clutching his horn and the other falling over her eyes, focusing on the chase of that wonderful high. Vampiric biting down of her lip, containing her innate need to be even louder. There would be time for that. Tonight, she wanted to sink into him, fall into a calming, warm pool of passionate affection. Enjoy the sensation of his body becoming a vessel for her pleasure, moving his tongue in just the way she liked.

Between tiny gasps, Tav said, “Zevlor…you’re going to make me cum. Please don’t stop…please.”

He didn’t reply, too focused on slurping up every trickle of sex that dripped out of her. He simply moaned, muffled by the soft grind of her pussy against his face. Building up to a climax that bloomed throughout her body, arching her back as she rode out an orgasm she had no idea she craved so deeply until it happened. He’d refuse to let her stop a second early, continuing to circle his tongue around her clit until she shook with sensitivity.

She melted into the bed, a thin veneer of sweat combining with the dripping warmth between her legs as Zevlor took his mouth off. Positively beautiful over her, muscular back bent in a perfect curve when he began to suckle and kiss around her neck and collarbone. Travelling downward in a desperate need to cover every inch. Landing with satisfaction on her nipples, laughing for the first time in years, lost in the joy of her.

Zevlor stopped for a moment, lifting his head to face her below him. Tranquil and drunk with sinful pleasure, cheeks filled with rosy blush and eyes glazed over. Arms splayed out like the wings of a celestial Aasimar. He loathed the past, for so many reasons, but mostly because she wasn’t there with him. In her infinite beauty, a plush and wanton solace before him. How did he ever stomach being away from her since they’d met?

“I’m sorry for leaving you after that night. Forgive me?” He asked.

Tav laughed, spellbound to the point of forgetting she was ever upset. As if he’d never left. She said, “You may need to convince me a little more, hellrider.”

Something switched off within him, a zealous need to have her succumb to him. Forgive him for his misgivings. Praying to a new goddess and asking for redemption. Offering himself to her by inching his cock deep inside her, feeling the pull of her soft walls lock him in. Driven to eternal admiration from the sound of her shocked, euphoric moan, submitting to the stretch of him. An addictive sting, exposed to every synapse erupting within her sensitive, yearning cunt. She bit her bottom lip with a smile, shivering at the comforting wrap of his tail around her waist to keep her in place. No escaping the loving, dominant thrust of his hips deep into her.

“Forgive me,” he said, “Forgive me. Forgive me!” A passionate, hard thrust into her pussy each time he said it.

The might of him rendered her eyes at the back of her head, nearly unable to reply as he begged for her forgiveness. Her slick smacking against his pubic bone, gushing onto his cock in a lustful mess of an orgasm begging to come back. Tav snaked her arms across Zevlor’s shoulders for dear life, brought to the edge with his heavy grunts in her ear. She tightened around him, rocking back and forth on the bed, closer and closer to release.

He felt the contracting of her around him, unfulfilled by her silence on forgiveness. Just as she was about to finish, he pulled out of her, smacking the tip of his cock against her clit repeatedly. Listening to her whine and whimper, threatening tears. Then, before she knew it, he thrusted back in, hard and unmerciful. Pulling out again, repeating that pattern.

“Have I earned your forgiveness? Or shall I deny you until you use your words all night? Tell me, am I absolved, goddess?” He growled, voice husky and feral, the militant part of him revealing just enough of itself to command her to his whim.

By the fourth thrust and pull, she wailed, “Yes, gods above, I forgive you! There’s nothing to forgive, just make love to me!”

He pushed inside her fully, smashing his lips against hers at the same time. Holding her hips in line to use his infernal ridges as friction against her swollen clit. Locking his hand into hers, supported above her head while he thrusted and thrusted with reckless abandon. Both of them grunting in tandem, overcome with delayed pleasure. Tav found her footing quickly, edged so deliciously that her orgasm ripped through her with little effort, squeezing onto his cock. Her nails dug into his knuckles, mouth hanging open in awe over the intensity of her second climax.

Pulling from the kiss, he struggled against his own release. Mourning for the eventual time when he’d have to leave her cunt. Comfortable, warm and wet, a shelter from all harm. He couldn’t stand it yet, and used his tail around her waist to flip her onto her side, like fresh sand in the palm of his hand.

“Let me lie next to you,” he said, moving his body in a spoon position, chest pressed against her back, “I want to cum with you in my arms.”

Tav mustered a whisper thin ‘please’ under her breath, running her hands through his hair as he snuggled in behind her. The curve of her spine angled just right for him to sheathe himself inside her once more. Pumping slowly this time, arms and tail curled across her body like ivy against an ancient wall. Kissing the side of her neck, an endless waterfall of tenderness mixed with the possessive thrust of his cock. She was completely enveloped, safe and sound in his embrace, floating in the paradise he gave her.

“You’re with me, now. Right here, safe. Does that feel good? Am I pleasing you, goddess? Might I cum inside you?” He whispered in her ear, low and gruff. Intense bravado oozing from every part.

She was awash with sensual energy, captivated by him just like the first time. Although that was much quieter, fearing someone might hear them. Now, she felt as if they were sharing a home. In the privacy of their own dwelling, even if that was a fantasy.

“Oh, yes, you are perfect. I want your everything, Zevlor. Please, give me everything,” she replied, taking care to run her tongue up and down his bottom lip before she pushed them into a wet, feverish kiss. Flicking her tongue against his teeth, relishing in the sharp edge.

Their mouths were open to each other when he felt the stirrings of his climax. Languishing movements lost rhythm as he climbed ever forward into that much desired sensation. Possessed by the supple flesh of her lips and everything else. Hips, breasts, stomach, ass, everything. Falling into her deep, insane at the ache of his cock inside her. He breathed out a hard, rapturous moan before he let himself spill, soaking her cunt with the cum that twitched out of him. Dribbling out of the side as she lay before him with a wide, calm smile. Their muscles relaxed together, fusing into the bed.

Tav shivered, the slide of his cock pulling out sending a shock in her spine. Imbued with comfort immediately as Zevlor pulled a thin sheet over her. Tucking her into the blankets and the warm hold of him. Snuggling tight into her, yearning to find a way to fuse his body with hers. Kissing the top of her head, lingering to take in her scent.

“You did not smell of rosemary when we last saw each other,” he said, “That’s always been a favourite of mine. Rosemary.”

Tav grinned, turning to face him. A much needed distraction to keep her heavy eyelids from shutting for the night. To see him once more, maybe twice. Absorb all she missed in the year past. His handsome, aged face glowing under firelight. Sandy hair, messy and dotted with sweat. Strong hands stuck tight to her hips. All she imagined came to life.

Zevlor held her hand, kissing each knuckle, down to the bottom of her palm. A touch so ethereal, he could have been giving healing magic. Rescuing her both outside and in, cleansing her soul of all evil and wrongdoing endured before.

“We’ll replenish your lost supplies tomorrow,” he said, her hand close to his face, “If you’ll allow me to accompany you?”

She smiled, containing its ever widening stretch. “Well, we do have a great deal to catch up on.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #zevlor #zevlor fanfic #zevlor x tav #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 smut #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #zevlor smut

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mistfallengw2 · 2 days

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Hey, a sylvari ask game!🌱

1. Are they a Dreamer or Soundless? What's their relationship with the Pale Mother and Ventari's teachings? If the first, have they ever thought about leaving the Dream behind? If the latter, why did they make that choice?

2. How much do they remember from the Dream? Did they have any particular experience in it before awakening?

3. Do they have a Wyld Hunt? Did they complete it?

4. How was their awakening? Did something particular happen? What's their first memory?

5. Are they from the first batch of Secondborn or did they awaken at some later point? What's their opinion on the Firstborn?

6. What did they do after leaving the Grove? Did they feel a particular call or did they just roam and explore Tyria? Would they still feel at home if they went back?

7. What was their first experience with other races? How did it impact them?

8. Do they fit well into sylvari society or are they more at home with other races? How do they feel about fellow sylvari? Do they have any particular sympathy or antipathy for other races?

9. Do they have a job/occupation? Why did they pick that? Did they ever change it? Are they happy with it or are they aiming for something else?

10. What are their hobbies and pastimes? Do they have any natural talent or particularly strong interest? Was it something they knew from the Dream or did they develop it once awakened?

11. Have they ever changed their own appearance? Was it intentional or due to external factors? Did it affect their glow as well? How long did it take? Would they ever change back?

12. What do they usually wear? Do they prefer regular clothes or growing "clothes" out of their bodies?

13. How do they feel about death? Does it make them curious or scared? Do they wish to understand it or do they simply accept it?

14. What do they think of the Nightmare Court? Would they ever join it? What would make them do so? / What made them join them? Would they ever leave it?

15. What are their feelings on their race being minions of the Jungle Dragon? What's their attitude towards those who turned? How do they feel about the shift in perception of their people from other races?

16. Where were they when the call of Mordremoth struck? Did they hear and follow it, or did they resist it?

17. If they were to turn into Mordrem, what would they look like? Would they manage to turn back? / When they turned into Mordrem, how did their appearance change? Did they manage to fully turn back?

18. [Free space for 3 pieces of trivia about your sylvari!]

#gw2 #gw2 sylvari #sylvari #gw2 ocs #ask games #ask meme #my ask games #guild wars 2 #I'm here once again with the format of “main question + extra questions to expand on the topic”#tried to include as much as I could in this. there were some more questions initially buuut they felt out of place or too generic.#I'm 100% forgetting some obvious question but this isn't some ultimate ask game so this is good enough!#note: I will end asks all to those with easy to find character lists/tags. or at least try (tagging the reblog helps as well)#as for my characters: all sylvari on the list + Myrn (Tocchix's step-father) + Gareth (Eurys's boyfriend) + Morwen (Mae's late bestie and #Gareth's late ex) + Nytum (Morwen's ex and ex-courtier/mordrem)

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aeonmagnus · 3 days

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youtube

In a great way to close the first “Transformers Day”, the official Hasbro Pulse YouTube account have treated us with an interview with Frank Welker & Peter Cullen, the voices of Optimus Prime & Megatron.

This would be the last of the interviews with the voice talent from the Transformers 40th Anniversary Celebration Table. Mr. Cullen and Mr. Welker need no presentation for the Transformers community, being one of the most beloved and respected original G1 voice actors.

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The official Hasbro Pulse YouTube account have treated us with an interview with Michael Bell, the voice of G1 Prowl.

Mr Bell is well remembered as Prowl’s voice in the original G1 cartoon, and he also voiced some other Transformers characters like First Aid, Brainstorm, Sideswipe, Swoop, Scrapper and more.

On this 7:12 minute interview, Mr.Bells shares his thoughts about what made G1 so special, his performance as Prowl and other characters and his favorite role, some G1 behind the scenes memories and more!

youtube

Following the interview with Gregg Berger, the voice of G1 Grimlock, now we are catching up with another great interview with Dan Gilvezan, the voice of Bumblebee.

Mr. Gilvezan talks about what makes G1 so special that still brings fans today, the reasons why Bumblebee is so popular, and his experience and special moments working in the original G1 cartoon.

youtube

The official Hasbro Pulse YouTube account have just treated us with an interview with Gregg Berger, the voice of G1 Grimlock.

On this 9:37 minute interview, Mr. Berger talks about his experience in the G1 Transformers table read, the Transformers impact in pop culture, his comments on how he worked in Grimlock’s voice in the original G1 cartoon and some behind the scenes stories.

youtube

The official Hasbro Pulse YouTube account have treated us with an interview with Paul Eiding, the voice of G1 Perceptor

Mr Eiding is well remembered as Perceptor’s voice in the original G1 cartoon, and he also voiced some other non-Transformers characters like Deceptitran.

On this 7:46 minute interview, Mr. Eiding talks about the popularity of G1 by the time he joined the cast, how he came up with Perceptor’s voice, his memories working in the G1 show, and his experience coming back to voice the first G1 episode in the 40th Anniversary table read.

youtube

The official Hasbro Pulse YouTube account have just treated us with an interview with Frank Todaro, the voice of Starcream.

Following the legacy of Chris Latta, G1 Starscream’s voice, Mr. Todaro took the role as the voice of the Decepticon Seeker during Machinima’s Prime Wars Trilogy, Netflix War For Cybertron trilogy, and he was also part of the 40th Anniversary table read.

On this 7:2 minute interview, Mr. Todaro talks about how he prepared and differentiate from the multiple roles he played, what he took from Chris Latta’s original portrayal of Starscream, his best memories, how it feels to be part of the history of Transformers, and his experience during the table read event.

youtube

The official Hasbro Pulse YouTube account have treated us with an interview with Arif S. Kinchen, the voice of Jazz (RID 2015).

Arif S. Kinchen became part of the Transformers franchise voicing Jazz in the Robots in Disguise 2015 cartoon, and more recently, he took the role as the voice of G1 Jazz in the 40th Anniversary table read.

On this 5:21 minute interview, Mr. Kinchen shares his thoughts about his experience in the table read, his fondest memories of the original G1 cartoon, how he felt working on the franchise and its impact in so many people.

#Transformers #G1 #40th Anniversary #Transformers Day #Frank Welker #Peter Cullen #Michael Bell #Paul Eiding #Gregg Berger #Dan Gilvezan #Frank Todaro #Arif S. Kinchen #The Transformers

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chevelleneech · 2 days

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Are You Sure? - Ep8

Here are my thoughts now that I finally watched the episode (I was at work all day, anon, lol).

I honestly don’t have too too many, because my main takeaway was that they seemed to have truly needed these trips together. They knew by Jeju they’d be enlisting together, so I feel like any thoughts I had about the trips being a sort of last hurrah before potentially being separated go out the window.

They knew they’d be together, so barring them being romantically involved in some way… I kind of don’t get the point of the series.

Had this been a special involving other members, then it being work related would make sense. Had this been more like the Jeju episodes where they weren’t as laid back, I’d get it, but it wasn’t. Five out of eight episodes focused on them not doing much else other than simply spending time together. Sight seeing and going out to eat, with a sprinkle of activities. We saw them shopping for food and driving more than anything else, but for some reason they both still say the whole experience and filming of the series was the best thing they’ve gotten to do.

That to me, and I say this with full honesty, does not make sense to me, if they’re strictly platonic. I don’t know, episode eight sees them putting a certain level of importance on these trips that many antis wanted to rip away, and surely they knew that. They know what people think about them in their own fandom, both for the better and the worse, and they didn’t care. Which, good for them.

Moving away from my confusion in an attempt to find another explanation, I also think their joint melancholy about having to leave triggered the dropping of their guards a little bit. Add that to them drinking some, and their whole reaction moment felt almost intrusive to see, lol. They kept gravitating toward each other the entire time, only for the editors to skip to them sitting back up with more space between them. Nevermind the footsie and Jimin walking by the room they were shown going to bed in, when he said he was going to wake JK up.

So unless Jungkook was already up and in the shower or something, which they conveniently didn’t mention despite doing it every other time… they either didn’t sleep in the room with the camera or JK moved rooms. But again, given they gave us updates about every other sleeping arrangement or change, why would their last night be different if nothing happened? (By “nothing” I genuinely mean I think they moved to a different room without a camera, likely to talk or simply be closer. Not necessarily sex, because again, I don’t see them going there with a house full of staff.)

Pure speculation of course, lol, but yeah. Those moments made me feel a little like, okay, they did this with the intent of making memories. They may have wanted to cement who they are to each other in this moment, because no matter how optimistic they were that things wouldn’t change and their friendship would be solid, no one can predict the future.

Couple that with them both starting Ep1 saying they hadn’t seen each other and Jimin not being sure (no pun intended) the trip was a good idea in the first place, to them ending Ep8 saying they didn’t want it to be over and spent the last few days happy… it’s a big deal, I think. Especially with how many times they spent their last day in Sapporo taking about how romantic and pretty everything was.

Per the words from their own mouths, they created a small, romantic, nice, and happy bubble they didn’t want to leave, and I love that for them. They got to be happy and cared for by one another, and want to spend many more years to come doing the same thing. I hope they get that.

Oh and final thought… I want that house! Their final Sapporo house was beautiful, as was the town. It felt like a holiday special!

#jikook

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1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam · 5 hours

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Half questioning my memory of the post s4 era, half side eying a certain character, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think there was ever a time when the Buddie fandom fully took the single “Evan” from the season 4 finale as Eddie receiving “Evan” privileges from then on. From my recollection, fics stayed mostly consistent with their uses of “Evan” by Eddie, perhaps just with an emphasis on important moments (love confessions, Christopher’s adoption papers, wedding vows, NDEs, etc.) after the finale. And I had to stop myself from wondering why that is because I know why. We all know. Because nobody wanted to use “Evan” in fics when Buck had just told his parents that people who know him call him Buck. So Buddie fandom heard that, accepted it, and uses it only sparingly. In canon and fanon, even Maddie only rarely uses “Evan” anymore, and it feels even less common for her to use post-Buck Begins (if at all, actually). So the fact that Tommy and BT fans tend to use “Evan” (at least, this has been my experience) is so utterly jarring. Buck told everyone his preference, and I believe LFJ has spoken about being told to use only “Evan” when referring to Buck, so I simply do not understand anyone who believes that BT is in love already or endgame. Yes, it could go the “Buck gave Tommy ‘Evan’ privileges off-screen” route, but then why push it off-screen? It would be a major allowance made for a new love interest, and a significant step in Buck’s character arc. Yet we see nothing of the sort. So why would anyone believe that’s what happened? The last we heard, Buck had told his parents and everyone else to call him Buck exclusively, with the minimal exception of Maddie (who was, for most of his childhood, his one and only lifeline and confidant). That sort of history and characterization is not ignored if there is not something very wrong with the writers’ room. It was not even ignored by a significant portion of the fandom post-season 4, although Eddie gaining permanent “Evan” privileges would’ve been a strong indicator of a Buddie endgame (had an on-screen explanation of Eddie gaining this privilege been released). It was not ignored, and it did not change the nature of Buck in fic nor fanon. So why in hell is the same not holding true for a brand new relationship like BT?

#buddie #apologies for the rant #it just annoys me #that for 3 years this facet of Buck’s was understood and accepted by basically the entire fandom #but enter T and suddenly people are using ‘Evan’ like Buck didn’t literally walk through fire every single day of his life to keep from #being known as his parents’ ‘Evan’ again #this was literally not a problem before this past season and now everry time I see ‘Evan’ used in fics I cringe #soemtimes even when it’s Maddie or Eddie using it in a canon/character-aligned way #it’s the very definition of YOU DO NOT KNOW THIS CHARACTER to my brain #anti tommy kinard #anti tevan #anti bucktommy #anti bummy #anti bt #evan buckley #eddie diaz #and like #who cares if T is using it in canon???#he’s literally known Buck for all of 5 months at MOST #this is not a case of endgame ship getting privileges regarding each other that others don’t #this is a case of T and BT stand not understanding Buck as a character or person #even watching the whole show does not absolve someone of this weirdness because why is anyone following the lead of Tree 6 on anything Buck #maddie buckley han #maddie han #maddie buckley #btw if you’re a BT who somehow stumbled on this post despite like 4 anti tags that are easily filtered - just walk away #I am but an annoyed buddie fan who thinks that watching this show for deeper stories #is better than latching on to the newest white boy of the month #911 #911 abc

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nalyra-dreaming · 1 day

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This is something that has really disturbed about this fandom and has made me step back from it. The fact that people are horrified by Marius and Armand but ship Loumand. Loumand in the show is so abusive on both sides and freaks me out that people are still shipping them. Armand, a former sex slave, was whipped and made to drink from a dog bowl. That is not hot, that is disturbing and similar to what Marius did to him. And Armand changed Louis memories and kept him in a prison, took away his control and choice. Armand basically mind raped Louis. Look, I know that no one in this show is good and all the relationships are toxic but this was all a step too far for me. I struggle wanting to watch season 3, like how can I ship Armand with Daniel after everything he did to Louis?

He also had them beat up (via the coven), eaten alive in a rat box, (probably even that experiment still, we'll see), starving to death in a coffin, cut their feet so they couldn't run away. Oh, and burnt alive in a focused ray of sun.

Just to note that it was not all "just mentally". Ahem.

That said, and while you of course can feel about it all as you want as well(!) - shipping ... is not about that.

That is something I keep trying to point out, too, there is a difference between "shipping" and the actual relationships in the VC. Imho.

Because shipping transcends canon, and sometimes even universes.

Shipping is about the characters and often something completely separate from canon.

The relationships in the VC are messy and toxic, and the whole is very much gothic. And most of them are canon.

You can ship what you want, no matter how toxic or insane the canon relationship. Just have fun. The (show) canon will do what it wants.

The book canon is already there, if you struggle with the prospect of s3 you can always read it to prepare yourself a bit :)

#Anonymous #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire #armand

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glamdringwlv · 1 day

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Unchain my heart: Part 6. Thunderstruck.

Unchain my heart series. Logan Howlett x oc!fmale Summary: Mia Green has grown up in a lab, subjected to numerous experiments due to her status as a mutant. When she manages to escape, Charles Xavier takes her in at his mansion, giving her a new life and helping her regain her memories. However, the arrival of a new resident at the mansion threatens to destabilize everything she believed.

Warnings: Violence, foul language, a mix of various canons, X-Men movies, X-Men animated series, X-men comics.

Mia sat in silence at the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the sheets as her mind struggled to impose order on the chaos swirling inside her. Some days, the noise in her head felt overwhelming, like a storm of thoughts she couldn't silence. But it wasn't the noise that scared her most. No, what truly terrified her was the silence—the loneliness that crept in more often, as if, despite being surrounded by people, she was utterly alone.

Memories of the past few weeks flooded her mind. Waking up amidst shattered ice, frozen and terrified, completely out of control. The beast within her had emerged once again. And even though Logan had been there to pull her from the water, what happened afterward left her with an unshakeable sense that something was deeply wrong, something broken inside her. Since then, she had distanced herself from everyone, believing that perhaps isolation would keep her safe; if she could just hold it together, everything would be fine.

But it wasn't fine. Fear consumed her—not just for what she could do to others, but for what she was doing to herself. That monster inside her wouldn't leave; it lingered, waiting for a crack in her control. It was a constant battle to stay whole, to resist the wild power that grew stronger and more demanding each day.

Then, almost instinctively, her thoughts drifted to Logan. To that night when she had woken in his arms, feeling for a fleeting moment something beyond the chaos. There was something about him that calmed her, while simultaneously stirring something primal within her. A warmth that made her want to curl up closer, to bask in his presence. The beast within her purred at the mere thought of him, deepening her confusion. He had tried to reach out since that night, but every time he did, Mia built higher walls—barriers she felt were necessary but didn’t want to maintain. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down, not when she didn’t even understand what was happening in her own mind.

Logan was a threat to the control she so desperately craved, a temptation she feared would consume her entirely if she allowed it. Yet every time she thought of him, that inner monster stirred—not with violence, but with a curious blend of calm and desire, as if acknowledging his presence granted her a temporary reprieve from the internal war she fought.

If Logan was a challenge, Scott was an open wound. She had loved Scott for so long that sometimes she couldn’t remember what it felt like to not love him. Her love for him had been a constant, a certainty in a world filled with doubts. But lately… lately, everything she felt for him had become tainted. The trust she once had in him had crumbled, little by little. His inability to understand her turmoil, his blind obedience to Charles, his tendency to control everything without seeing what she truly needed—these things gnawed at the love she had felt, replacing it with doubts, resentment, and a deepening sadness with each passing day.

She knew she wasn’t being fair to Scott. He was trying to reach her, wanting to understand her. She could feel him—his constant presence lingering at her door, waiting for her to let him in, for the moment she was ready to talk. But each time she sensed him there, Mia curled further inward, unable to open up, unable to share what was really happening. And even though she knew she was hurting Scott, she couldn’t find a way to reconnect, to trust him again as she once had.

Some nights, Scott stood outside her door for hours, and though her mind screamed at her to simply lift her hand and open it, to let him in, she couldn’t. Fear paralyzed her. Fear of what he would see in her, fear that he might not be able to bear the truth of what was happening inside her head, inside her heart. Fear that once he saw her, he would realize that the person he loved was no longer there.

Mia shut her eyes, battling the whirlwind of emotions within her. It was a mix of loneliness, fear, and despair that left her drained. She couldn’t continue like this, avoiding everyone, building walls so high that she couldn’t see over them. But at the same time, she didn’t know how to stop it. Some days, she didn’t even recognize herself.

Yet something compelled her to break free from her isolation. One morning, while returning from class, she passed by the command room and overheard the team discussing details of a new mission. They were talking about an operation that even involved Logan, the newcomer they still didn’t fully trust.

She froze when it hit her. They weren’t going to include her. Mia knew why; she understood Charles was worried about her lack of control, the constant fear she had acknowledged. But that didn’t lessen the pain. In that moment, a torrent of emotions surged in her chest: loneliness, fear, and a growing sense of injustice. The best version of herself, the only one she still recognized, was found in the missions. But now, they had taken that from her too.

She considered throwing a fit, storming into Charles’ office like the time she had confronted Logan in the danger room. That dark part of her roared with pride, pulling her in that direction. She would let the professor know just how furious she was, how wrong he was to think of her as a ticking time bomb ready to explode…

She stopped short, just a few steps from her destination, and that inner turmoil stirred anxiously. No, that was exactly what she shouldn’t do. That was why they hadn’t included her—her lack of control. She took a few deep breaths, counting backward and chaining that angry thought back down inside her. She had to handle this right, carefully.

Turning on her heels, she returned to her room and carefully pulled out her suit. She examined it slowly. It was strange that even her outfit didn’t remind her of the new version of herself. She ran her fingertips over the material, praying it wouldn’t short out if she decided to use her new mutation.

With determined steps, she made her way to the hangar, refusing to stop when silence suddenly fell over the room. The conversation among the mutants faded to a hushed whisper as they saw her appear. She felt the weight of their gazes, but she pressed on. She brushed past Scott, ready to board the jet, but a hand clamped around her wrist, stopping her. She suppressed the urge to electrify the air around her to shake off the restriction that contact brought. Softening her gaze, she turned to face Scott’s visor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice tight, clearly annoyed.

Mia shrugged, feigning indifference, placing her hand over his. The contact didn’t send the tingling she expected; instead, she felt nothing but his warmth.

“To the mission. This is my jet, and I’m the only one flying it.”

She yanked her wrist away. Scott frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line. For weeks, he had tried to talk to her, but Mia had ignored him. Now, she suddenly appeared as if nothing was wrong, ready to board the jet without consulting anyone. The silence that hung between them only intensified the tension.

“Mia, you don’t even know the mission details.”

Without looking at him, she kept walking, her mind already set on her goal. No one was going to stop her. Not today.

“Oh, really?” she shot back, sarcasm lacing her words as she continued forward. “What are you waiting for? Spill the details, boss.”

That nickname. Mia had given it to tease him, using it only when they were in good mood. This time, it was laced with irony, and it struck him in the chest. Scott clenched his jaw, visibly upset. It was clear he didn’t want to argue in front of others, but her words had cut deep.

From a corner, Logan watched the scene in silence. His instinct told him not to intervene, though he felt a mix of relief and concern at seeing her. After so many failed attempts to connect with her, to understand what was going on, she was finally here. And though he wouldn’t say it aloud, something within him stirred at the sight of her showing that strength. The memory of holding her broken in his arms still haunted him.

Mia climbed aboard the jet, settling into the pilot’s seat, adjusting the controls with the ease of someone born to be there. She completely ignored Scott's persistent gaze, knowing he wouldn’t give up trying to talk her down. As she focused on the controls, she sensed someone else approaching.

“Mia, maybe Scott has a point. You can’t just dive into a mission without knowing the details. You haven’t even been to the briefings.” Jean’s voice came from beside her as she settled into the co-pilot seat.

A knot formed in her throat, and she swallowed it down. She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and turned to her friend.

“Hey, who says I don’t know them?”

Her mask nearly shattered at that assertion. She was on the verge of conceding and agreeing with her teammates, but a flicker of Logan’s thoughts broke through the noise. Maybe he was searching for her. No, that was impossible. She wasn’t even sure anyone could do that; it had to be a feeling that intensified as he stepped onto the vehicle. When she caught his gaze, it softened for a moment, and she decided to take a chance. She opened her mind, colliding with the swirl of thoughts and emotions that drew her in like a moth to a flame. She extended her consciousness and brushed against his in a subtle movement.

Can I? She asked silently, almost timidly. Instead of resisting like before, Logan’s mind seemed to yield to her touch, granting the permission she sought. She dove deep into it, and the mutant drew a sharp breath as he felt that familiar presence wash over him. Mia didn’t want to pry, so she patiently waited for him to share what he chose.

Logan wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but he brought to the forefront everything they had discussed in the command room, and a wave of gratitude flooded him. He wanted to reach out and grip the walls of the jet to steady himself, but that would betray him. He dug his heels into the floor and waited for her to finish exploring the information.

An unspoken question lingered in his mind, a trace of doubt. Why are you helping me? At first, he didn’t know, but his thoughts drifted back to the days he spent outside her door, hand poised to knock yet never doing so. He had wanted to connect for so long, and now the opportunity was right there. Mia sensed that flicker of emotion, and for a moment, she nearly withdrew from the comforting space that felt like home. Logan felt her presence more strongly now, and his chest swelled with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify. But those weren’t his feelings—they belonged to the woman who moved through his mind as if she were part of it.

When the connection broke, their eyes met briefly. Logan stood in his corner of the ship, watching silently. No words were exchanged.

“Mia, this is for your own good. You haven’t been yourself lately…” Scott began.

“I have everything I need, Scott,” she replied coldly, not bothering to elaborate.

“What the hell…?” he started to say, but his gaze shifted to Logan, who was watching her with renewed intensity. Feeling Cyclops’ stare, he held it and shrugged with a hint of a smile.

“Leave her be, Summers. Looks like we’ve got a pilot.”

Without wasting another moment, Mia powered up the engines. The deep roar of the jet filled the hangar, and the control panel lights began to flicker on. She was ready for takeoff.

“Buckle up, everyone. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” She couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. She felt in control at last.

The flight was swift, and before they could brace themselves mentally, the landscape beneath the jet began to change. They were heading toward a base created by a group of unstable mutants fleeing their pursuers. The team had been sent to intercept them before the government or Magneto could reach them.

As the jet approached the landing zone, Scott broke the silence. “We’ll split up to cover more ground. Jean and Ororo, you go south. Logan and I will take the front. Mia, stay in the jet until we’ve secured the area.”

“Are we partners now, Summers?” Logan scoffed.

“Seriously?” Mia replied with a sarcastic tone, barely glancing away from the controls, her irritation evident. “You’re leaving me out?”

Scott didn’t hide his frustration. “We need someone in the jet in case things go south. Besides, someone has to monitor everything from here.”

Mia pressed her lips together, feeling anger simmering in her chest. For weeks, she had been trying to control her powers, that dark side pulsing within her, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Now, with Scott treating her like a rookie, her rage grew faster than she could contain.

“I’m not a child, Scott. I don’t need you to protect me.” She shot him a look loaded with frustration. “I’m here to help, just like you.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, okay?”

She opened her mouth to argue, ready to unleash a torrent of retorts, but instead, she smiled broadly. “Sure thing, boss. Whatever you say.”

The jet fell into a tense silence once everyone else left. Mia sat in the cockpit, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the controls, trying not to let the irritation bubbling inside her take over. Scott had relegated her to a mere spectator, as if she couldn’t handle a mission. A part of her knew he had a point, given her recent struggles with control, but another part—the stronger, more frustrated side—refused to accept that.

“Staying in the jet? Ridiculous,” she thought, grinding her teeth. “I could be helping, not just sitting here doing nothing.”

She huffed, running her hands through her hair as she watched the radar tracking her teammates moving across the map. For the first few minutes, everything seemed normal. Jean, Ororo, Scott, and Logan were making steady progress. After a while, two points—Scott’s and Logan’s—went still. She waited and tried to reach out to them, but there was no response.

Mia frowned, typing away at the jet’s console, trying to gather more information. Jean and Ororo continued on, but something felt off with the other two. Her suspicion sharpened. Scott and Logan were still, not moving an inch.

“This isn’t right…” she muttered to herself, her frown deepening.

Before long, concern took hold. She wasn’t going to wait any longer. Her fingers danced over the controls, adjusting the navigation system to track her teammates' signal. If something had happened, she wasn’t about to sit idly by.

Wandering through the forest, she stumbled upon a scene that left her stunned. The two mutants were seated under a tree, chained to it, each facing a different direction. Both looked unconscious.

Who the hell could do something like this?

“What do we have here? Come to see me, gorgeous?”

Mia closed her eyes, wishing it wasn’t real. When she turned, she faced one of her worst nightmares—not because he was a great foe.

“Juggernaut!” she feigned a wide grin as if genuinely pleased to see him. “What a coincidence, is this your hiking route too?”

“Always so funny, doll. It was your sense of humor that drew me in at first. Then, of course, your ass,” he replied.

“Stop, you’re going to make me blush. What about you? New haircut?” Mia gestured to the helmet covering his massive head, likely blocking her from entering his mind.

“Like it? I designed it just for you. No more mind games.”

Mia smiled again. “It looks great.”

“And what? Here to save your little friends, Mia? I still don’t get what you see in that one-eyed loser. With me, you’d have a real mutant on your side.”

“I have a soft spot for lost causes, darling.”

Just then, Scott began to regain consciousness, followed by Logan. Both tried to sit up, still dazed. Juggernaut sneered at them before turning back to Mia.

“You might want to reconsider Magneto’s offer. We could be on the same team.”

“Magneto wants me at his side?” Mia let the irony drip from her words. “How flattering. But tell me, Juggernaut, what fun would it be if we didn’t meet like this?”

Mia sensed her teammates shaking off their grogginess and decided to distract the mutant while they got free.

“I’m just saying, all that saving humanity stuff can wear anyone out. We’d be unstoppable.”

“And we’d end up with some freakishly confusing kids.”

For a moment, Juggernaut’s mind drifted to the possibility Mia suggested, and she realized she didn’t need her powers to bewilder him.

Logan and Scott had freed themselves from their chains and now stood defensively, flanking her.

“Can you tell me how you got caught by this idiot?” she asked through clenched teeth, keeping her eyes on the mutant, who now regarded them as if he wanted to charge them all at once.

“He’s a damn animal. I scratched him with my claws, and Cyclops here didn’t have time to use his visor before he got knocked out cold.”

“I was trying to keep him away from the other mutants,” Scott shot back.

“I couldn’t care less about that. This guy’s a moron, and we need to take him down.”

“Any ideas, bub?”

Mía’s mind raced as she searched for a solution. That’s when a dormant part of her began to stir, tugging at the chains she had placed to hold it back. If only she could harness her electricity the way she did when she lost control… Talking directly to that inner self felt almost insane.

“f I set you free, will you promise not to wreck everything in your path?

Silence followed, interrupted only by a subtle nudge from deep within.

If you lose control and things go wrong, more people will get hurt. Scott…

The beast inside her seemed to yawn lazily, as if that fact didn’t faze it at all.

Logan…

She felt a surge of tension at the thought of him, and that part of her twisted restlessly. Taking it as a yes, she summoned forth her darker side. The air crackled with electricity, an imperceptible hum coursing through her. Logan looked at her with curiosity, recognizing a spark in her eyes—the same one he had seen the night she fell into the lake, and again when she kissed him in her room.

“If you think you stand a chance against me, you clearly don’t know me yet, sweetheart.”

Mía grinned widely, sending a shiver down Scott’s spine.

“Tell me, big guy, how does that pretty helmet of yours hold up against a little electricity?”

He didn’t respond; he was puzzled by the girl’s words. But when he caught her smile, he couldn’t help but grin back.

“Kitty,” she whispered, using that nickname she knew irked him. “Do you trust me?”

For a brief moment, Logan hesitated, caught off guard by both the nickname and the situation. But then he nodded. His instincts told him that even if he didn’t fully grasp Mia’s plan, he needed to play along.

Scott watched the exchange, bewildered, unable to decipher what was happening between them. The implicit trust Logan showed toward Mia unsettled him deeply.

She stepped closer to Logan, her gaze locked onto him for a moment before swinging back to Juggernaut, whose arrogant grin remained firmly in place.

“Let me see those claws,” she commanded Logan, offering no further explanation.

Juggernaut laughed, brimming with his usual overconfidence.

“Do you really think those toothpicks are going to do anything to me? You won’t even scratch me with that.”

“Now”

Logan wasted no time. With a low growl, he lunged at Juggernaut, who, believing his helmet and strength were impenetrable, didn’t even flinch. What he didn’t realize was that Mía was waiting for this moment.

As Logan’s claws sank into Juggernaut, Mía unleashed just a fraction of her inner beast, enough to envelop Logan’s claws in a controlled electric surge, carefully preventing any current from hitting his own body. The air around them buzzed as the energy surged into Juggernaut’s frame. It sought an exit, but Mía directed it through his body and into his head, concentrating it there. The helmet acted like a bunker, trapping the electricity in the mutant's brain until he collapsed to the ground, convulsing violently from the shock coursing through his system.

Logan straightened up quickly, claws still extended, looking at Mía with disbelief.

“You had that under control, right?” he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

Mía, with a mischievous grin still plastered on her face, shot him a nonchalant look.

“The truth… I wasn’t sure. I was trying something new.”

Logan stared at her, unsure whether to be angry or amused. He rubbed his face, clearly relieved that the plan had worked but still surprised by how Mía had handled everything.

Scott, watching from a distance, stepped forward, still unsure how to react. He knew Mía had saved the day, but the way she did it—and her evident connection with Logan—gnawed at him.

“You were trying something new?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Do you even realize what you just did, Mía? You could have… lost control.”

She met his gaze without an immediate reply, her eyes still shimmering with the residual electricity she had released. She sensed Scott’s anger wasn’t just about how she defeated Juggernaut; it was laced with concern and a profound sense of helplessness. But at that moment, she felt a wave of satisfaction for having harnessed the very power that had tormented her in recent days.

“I had it under control,” she shrugged. “For the first time in weeks, I managed the situation.”

Logan, still observing from his spot, felt happiness radiating from her, and for a moment, he didn’t want anything to diminish that feeling.

“Chill out, Summers,” Logan said, stepping between them, his tone deep and calm yet tinged with mockery. “The girl did good. Juggernaut’s out, right? Isn’t that what we wanted?”

Scott turned to Logan, his gaze icy, almost disdainful.

“This isn’t a game, Logan,” he retorted. “It’s not about who takes down whom. You don’t understand what’s at stake here.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly irritated by the implication.

“And you do?” he shot back, stepping closer, the tension between them palpable.

Mía watched in silence, her eyes darting between the two. The atmosphere crackled with tension, and while her instincts urged her to intervene, a part of her wanted to see how far the confrontation would go.

“Enough, both of you,” she finally interjected, stepping forward with a firm tone. “I’m not some damn ball for you to fight over.”

Logan and Scott stopped, both looking at her, surprised by the strength of her words.

“Scott, I get that you’re worried, but I don’t need you hovering over me at every turn. And Logan…” She turned to him, her expression softening slightly, but still firm. “You don’t have to defend me. I can take care of myself.”

Logan gritted his teeth but nodded, crossing his arms in resignation. Scott, looking confused, seemed unsure how to handle the situation. Finally, he broke the silence.

“It’s not just about the fight, Mía,” he said, his tone quieter, almost defeated. “It’s about you. You haven’t been the same for weeks. I don’t know how to reach you. I don’t even know if you want me to try.”

“This isn’t the time or place for this conversation, Scott. You know that.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken feelings and decisions yet to be made. Logan watched them both, feeling the weight of the moment, but unsure how to intervene.

Finally, Mía turned away from Scott and headed for the jet.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice resolute. “We need to move.”

Both men followed her in silence. When they reached the jet, Storm and Jean were already there, ushering in a visibly shaken group of mutants. The tension in the air was palpable, and Mía sensed it was charged not just with the electricity she controlled, but with the latent fear of those they had come to help.

Jean frowned slightly as she noticed Mía approaching with Scott and Logan. She didn’t say anything, but her expression was enough to tell Mía something was off. Storm, meanwhile, seemed more focused on maintaining calm among the new mutants, her gaze fixed on the sky as if trying to control something beyond their immediate surroundings.

“We had a hard time convincing them to board,” Jean finally broke the silence. “They think we’re here to trap them, not help.”

Mía nodded slowly, her mind already shifting into operational mode. Scott boarded the jet first, beginning to prepare for takeoff, while Logan helped the mutants, who still cast wary glances at everyone around them.

“Any sign of Magneto?” Mía asked, approaching Storm, who was watching her with a scrutinizing look.

“Not yet, but Jean has detected something… strange. Energies we can’t fully identify.” Storm’s tone was serious, though her gaze softened slightly. “We should move quickly. I don’t want to risk staying here longer than necessary.”

Mía agreed. With each passing second, she felt a mounting pressure in her chest, as if something was about to break free, both outside and within her. The electricity she had unleashed against Juggernaut kept her alert, like a wild power inside her waiting for another opportunity to erupt.

One by one, the mutants boarded, some still trembling, others casting wary glances, but all clearly exhausted from fear and uncertainty. Once everyone was on board, Mía headed for the cockpit. She knew Scott was upset and that Logan was monitoring her every move, but there was no time to deal with that now.

“How soon can we get out of here?” Jean asked, approaching the cockpit with her arms crossed. She had been mentally calming the new mutants throughout the journey, and Mía could see the weariness etched on her face.

“We’re ready,” Mía replied, firing up the engines. “We just need to take off.”

“Do it,” Scott commanded from his seat.

Without another word, Mía initiated the jet's launch. The roar of the engines filled the air as the craft began to lift off the ground. As they flew, she could feel Scott’s and Logan’s gazes on her, but she chose to ignore them, focusing on what lay ahead.

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