Beignets Promises
Slasher!Gambit x fem!reader
Slasher!Gambit inspired by: @virgo-arts
Part 1?
First real world in writing for Gambit! Let me know what you think and share it with as many people!
Tw: Blood, death, mentions of past murders, getting cut/injured, if you squint, obsessed!Gambit
He didn’t love you like that.
Love to Remy LeBeau wasn’t a pretty thing tied in a perfect bow and placed on the fireplace for you to find. Love wasn’t something he found as a thing he had to keep alive because everything and everyone around him would die or leave. Learning love from his home, from the thrives, the long nights of trainings and fights was what he imaged his love to be. It was all he ever knew for a long time until he got addicted to his cards, addicted to how they would cut flesh so easily.
He loved the stunned faces his victims made when a card cut deep into their hearts and ever-so lightly under the neck, drawing a thin line of red. The Jack cards cut the deepest, he found out after experimenting one night with a fat bureaucrat caught in his metal webs and deep bayou mud. He had to know what card to throw away and what to keep just like a river in Vas. Stealing the crown, being who he was, being who he is, Remy Lebeau also took a gamble, took a bet on his next canvas and sculptor. It was a beautiful thing to set up the cards on his people. He would give the highest honored cards to people he admired but had to go away.
The bartender who found out who he was, for example, had to go. Remy made sure the kill was fast and clean, promising the whole way through that he would never forget him. He headed his light with a King of Cups, which represented flow and power balance. The police found the dead bartender surrounded by rows and rows of bell flowers and lilacs, which were his favorite. It pained Remy when he had to say goodbye to, but saying it and meaning it are two different things.
Once the coffin was buried in the soil, Remy never used the King of Cups ever again on another person. Matter of fact, he only used tarot cards on those who need it, those he loved.
There it is again, love.
Such a foreign concept but such a wild feeling when the cards are felt right. He cursed his heart when it fluttered, and he wanted to rip it out whenever he was reminded of home, reminded of you. You were the front porch light that beckoned him home, drawing him back like a moth to a funeral flame.
What made you so special that made him go mad? What was that made him so intoxicated with you? He wanted to love and hate you at the same time, but he couldn’t find the strength. He didn’t used his Heart cards on anyone. They didn’t deserve his heart.
But you?
You.
You were in every card he drew when he hurt your boss for overlooking your work. You were in every dazzling ray of purple and pink when he killed your ex, hanging them high from the quarter square with a 3 of Diamonds tucked in their shirt. You were driving him wild in your old work place as he set it ablaze with his powers, charging everything he could get his hands on, and every bone he could touch. They didn’t deserve your time and effort.
Catching his eyes under his mask, catching his heartstrings in your eyes and voice, he would give it all just to see you bloom and blossom into the perfect person he knew you could be. His little love, his Queen of Hearts.
He loved you in every way that never mattered.
He saw how high you were, and he had to keep you up so high that the clouds covered your beautiful gaze. Even when the steamer from the coffee pot casted a rainbow over your eyes. Mask on or off, he could never let his eyes wander over you too long but he knows every curve.
So, when he saw the bandaged wrapped around your arm, he froze and let his coffee grow cold. He couldn’t keep his eyes off it. The red in his eyes studied the bandage and how you wrapped it with care and tears, and he wanted to rip it apart to see what caused it. The coffee shop down the French Quarter was slowing down from its evening rush, which is a good time for him to go and think of the next person to use, was his haven and was his harbor because that’s where you’re at. So, seeing you hurt was like a steak knife driving through his heart.
The steam from the espresso machine rises up past your eyes, causing you to look in his direction. The tension in his shoulders, the way he gripped the countertop to show white knuckles and veins, his jaw clinching tight, you didn’t know what to make of it.
“Mr. LeBeau?” His name from your lips was enough to snap him out of it. “You okay?”
He blinked twice and cleared his throat, pushing unholy thoughts back. “‘M okay.” He then nods towards your arm, asking, “May I ask what happened?” His voice was smooth like whiskey and soft as silk whenever he talked to you. A gentleman like him should talk to someone like you in a higher and clearer respectful tone.
“Oh, my arm,” he didn’t like how you glanced down and pulled your jacket sleeve on your jacket down. The weather is too nice to have a jacket, and it’s too warm behind the coffee pots to have one. Let the last bits of sunlight kiss your freckles goodnight. “I fell.”
“How?”
“Down the steps?”
“Why is it a question, mon ami?” Remy lifts his brow, and there was a hint of warning in his gaze. “Tel’me what really happened. Won’t get mad.”
A sad look crossed your eyes. “Yes, yes you will.” And that was that. He didn’t press anymore when the light in your eyes told him to be quiet. As much as he wanted to press, to know more, he’ll only get more and more irritated.
He’ll find them, catch them in his web and mud, cut them down until they’re nothing but forgotten. Then he’ll turn around and brighten your day with roses and his beignets with a mixture of powered sugar and brown sugar on top. He’ll do that just to see you brighten and smile. He’ll do it just to feel heart flutter and bloom, and he’ll even call it love.
His love for you was a mixture of blood, death, cards, and beignets in a little basket. It wasn’t like the rest, like how others would love you, but it worked. It worked for him. He’ll protect the world, be an X-Men, killer and savor each blood dripping card, and fall deeper and deeper in love with you.
However, it’s only a matter of time before you find out about him. It’s only a matter of time before you find the hidden room in the back of his mind and unlock the memories and death. When you do, he’ll be ready.
Remy Lebeau is always ready.
Besides, the cards have always been in his favor when it came to you.
