#JOKING about the evil energies. and yet

[liuisi]

whenever i go downtown i Have to be listening to hymns. to repel the evil energies

[blookmallow]

anyone else get major "buzz lightyear before the character development" vibes from paladin danse. ad victoriam and beyond

[mythicalmaven]

Gotta Be You - Charles Leclerc (ONE)

Let's go for a new series! <3 I always love writing friends/enemies to lovers, so that's what this is, yet again lol😂❤️ For my inspiration I got to give lots of credit to @vroomvro0mferrari, because her series Vexing Vacation gave me lots of inspo for the shared vacation thingie!

masterlist | promptlist ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!gasly!reader ↳word count: 6,3K ↳warnings: not much yet honestly, arguing, tension maybe ↳side info: friends to enemies to lovers, semi slow burn? (not really slowburn, but it has build up until the actual lovers things unfold), the reader is Pierre's younger sister, reader is Arthur LeClerc's childhood best friend, Charles is her former crush, Charles is a jealous ass sometimes, age gap between reader and Charles (5 years, 22 and 27) ↳summary: In which you go on a shared holiday with both your and your brother's friend group, forced to be confronted with your former teenage crush Charles LeClerc yet again. The only problem is? You can't stand him nowadays, until you suddenly can.

Arthur’s apartment was as chaotic as ever, half-packed bags and discarded jackets strewn across the floor. You threw yourself onto the couch with a dramatic groan, your face buried in a pillow.

“I regret this already,” you whined, the words muffled against the soft fabric.

Arthur’s laugh carried from the doorway. “You’ve been here two minutes, and you’re already complaining? Impressive.”

Rolling onto your back, you shot him a glare. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. A whole month of dealing with your insufferable brother? I must’ve been out of my mind.”

Arthur leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and grinning like the Cheshire cat. “You’ll survive. There are enough people going to keep you distracted. Plus, you get to spend a whole month with me. What more could you possibly want?”

“Maybe a holiday without Charles,” you shot back, only half-joking.

Arthur smirked. “Come on, he’s not that bad. Okay, maybe he’s a bit… a lot.”

"Arthur... I can't think of one thing that's not annoying about your brother" You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to dig his own grave further.

The Monegasque chuckled and rolled his eyes "Nuh uh! I do remember very vividly how you were gushing about, and I quote 'astonishingly hot' my brother looked in that suit during christmas"

You huffed and coughed, throwing the pillow that was under your head towards Arthur "First of all that was 2 years ago" you said, rolling onto your back, staring up at the ceiling “Besides, the only thing worse than Charles, is Charles knowing he’s handsome. He’s insufferable, and he’s fully aware of it. That smirk of his? Pure evil.”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah, he definitely knows. But let’s be honest, you’re not wrong. The guy could probably charm his way out of murder if he tried.”

You groaned again, flopping back onto the couch. “Can't I just stay here, and watch the house? Doesn't your fake plant need a plant sitter, to fake water it?" you joked.

Arthur plopped down beside you, his grin softening slightly. “You’ll be fine. I’ll protect you. I’ll even create a no-Charles zone if it helps.”

You laughed despite yourself, shoving his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot you’re lucky to have,” he replied with a wink.

You smiled at him, rolling your eyes once again. He was true, you were lucky to have him, but you also weren't so lucky with who his brother was.

“But you have to admit,” Arthur continued, “you kind of love how much he gets under your skin. You wouldn’t have this much energy to complain if you didn’t care.”

Your gaze softened as you looked at him, and for a moment, your mind wandered back to where it all started. You and Arthur had been inseparable since you were kids.

The first time you met Arthur, you were eight years old, tagging along with Pierre to one of his karting races. Arthur, ten at the time, had been sitting on a crate, furiously tinkering with his kart while Charles shouted something from across the paddock. He looked up as you approached, his face smeared with grease, and grinned like he’d known you forever.

“Hi! I’m Arthur!” he announced, shoving his hand out for you to shake.

From that moment on, you were glued to his side. Arthur became your partner in crime, the one you told all your secrets to, and the brother you never asked for but somehow desperately needed.

Of course, being best friends with Arthur meant spending time around Charles, too.

You were fifteen when it happened—when you realized you had a crush on the unattainable Charles Leclerc. He was nineteen then, fully immersed in his F1 career and everything that came with it. He had this effortless charm, a confidence that made it impossible to look away.

You knew it was silly, that he’d never see you as anything more than Arthur’s kid best friend. But the crush lingered, stubborn and unrelenting.

By the time you were sixteen, you and Charles had started spending more time together, moments where the age gap didn’t feel so insurmountable. He’d joke with you, tease you about your karting attempts, and you couldn’t help but think… maybe. Maybe if you were older, it could be something.

“Maybe if you were older,” he’d said once, his voice light but his words heavy. “But you’re Pierre’s little sister, and Arthur would kill me. Besides, you’re like family.”

The words stung, but deep down, you understood. And then there was that night when you were eighteen—too many drinks, a shared laugh, and the moment you almost kissed. But it was over before it began, cut short by the sound of someone calling Charles’ name.

You never talked about it, burying the memory alongside the growing ache in your chest.

When you were eighteen, you finally let it go. You and Charles were just friends, so it seemed. You started dating other guys, convinced that the feelings you had for Charles were a thing of the past, which they seemed to be. But that was when Charles started to change.

He became distant, colder. His teasing shifted into something sharper, tinged with something you couldn’t quite understand. You started arguing more, getting annoyed by the weirdest little things. The playful insults and your arguments became the foundation of your relationship—barbed words masking unresolved tension.

Now, years later, it was all just… frustrating. You didn’t understand him, and you didn’t want to. Yet you both couldn't seem to let it each other be. Even though you were now respectively 21 and 26, you both had this childish need to keep pushing each others buttons.

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts. Arthur jumped up, grinning. “Showtime. Come on, let’s get this circus started.”

You followed him to the door, your heart sinking as soon as it swung open. There he was—Charles Leclerc, the devil himself, smirk firmly in place. Beside him stood Pierre and Kika, both smiling warmly.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath. “Let the torture begin.”

Pierre and Kika made their way in, following Arthur to the living room, leaving you standing there alone with Charles.

Charles’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk widening. “Miss me already?”

You rolled your eyes at the Monegasque driver, scoffing "I’d miss you more if you came with a mute button."

Before Charles had the chance to reply to your comment, Dennis Hauger appeared behind Charles, greeting both of you with a smirk. Saved by the bell

"HAUG!" you exclaimed happily, making your way over to him, embracing him.

Dennis returned the hug immediately, settling his arms around your waist "Hi there, frenchie" he chuckled back at you, using of his standard nickname for you.

You tucked your head in the crook of his neck "You just saved me from the devil, thanks" you whispered jokingly to him, low enough for Charles to not hear.

What you didn't notice tho, was the way Charles clenched his jaw at the sight in front of him, or the way he immediately made his way out of the hallway, trying to get away from the interaction in front of him. It was jealousy, pure jealousy. Something he was trying to deny with all his willpower.

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The house had been buzzing with activity for the past hour as everyone settled into their rooms. Most of the group had scrambled to claim their ideal space as soon as they walked in, leaving you and Kika to handle the grocery run. You didn’t mind—there wasn’t a room you particularly wanted, and you figured Arthur would sort it out for you while you were gone.

When you returned and put everything away, you made your way to the living room, where Arthur was lounging on the couch next to Dennis. You perched on the armrest beside him, your hands on your hips.

Arthur didn’t even look at you before sighing dramatically. “I’m sorry in advance,” he muttered, sounding uncharacteristically guilty.

You raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t even said anything yet, and you’re already apologizing. That’s reassuring.”

Arthur finally glanced up, a smirk creeping onto his face. “You weren’t going to ask me about your room for the month?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, catching the teasing tone in his voice. “Okay, and if I was? I already told you I don’t care which room I get. I’m not picky.”

Dennis snorted from his seat. “Oh, you’ll care soon enough.”

Confused, you glanced between them, their smirks only growing. “What are you two on about? Just tell me where the room is, and I’ll figure it out myself.”

Arthur shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Upstairs. There are two bedrooms on that floor. Yours is the one on the right.”

“Thanks,” you said, pushing off the armrest. “Honestly, boys, it can’t be that bad.”

As you walked away, you heard Arthur mutter behind you, “Sweet, innocent girl.”

The comment made you roll your eyes, but you brushed it off. Surely they were just being dramatic. When you reached the room, you stepped inside and surveyed the space. It was far from bad—it was actually quite nice. The room was spacious, with large windows that let in plenty of light. You noticed a set of balcony doors and walked over to them, opening them to find a stunning view of the beach. The balcony extended to the next room, but that wasn’t anything that bothered you.

Everything about the room seemed perfect. What were they even talking about?

Feeling satisfied, you turned your attention to the rest of the space, spotting a door near the wardrobe. It must lead to the bathroom. Curious, you opened it, stepping inside—and froze in your tracks.

There, in the middle of the bathroom, stood Charles, unpacking his toiletries into the cabinet. His back was to you, but the sight of him was enough to make your stomach drop. You quickly scanned the room and spotted another door on the opposite wall, clearly leading to his bedroom.

Oh. That’s what they meant.

“No way. This is not happening,” you huffed, throwing your hands in the air.

Charles turned at the sound of your voice, his expression shifting from surprise to irritation. “What are you doing here?” he snapped.

"About to murder either you, or the idiot that came up with the clever idea to put me in a room next to most insufferable person on mother earth" you snapped back at him.

Charles felt slightly hurt at your insult, he knew he caused this himself, but he figured that trying to get over you was easier when you hated him than when you were your way too sweet self.

Charles rolled his eyes, going back to his unpacking. "Might as well consider killing Joris then, because up until you came barging in, I thought he would be staying in that room" he said, rolling his eyes, mindlessly continuing to unpack his stuff

You crossed your arms, glaring at his nonchalant attitude. “Well, congratulations on your little upgrade. This arrangement is absolutely not happening. I’m switching rooms.”

“Good luck with that,” Charles muttered. “But if you’re planning to kill Joris, I’d like to watch.”

You ignored his sarcasm, muttering curses under your breath as you stormed out of the bathroom and downstairs into the kitchen. Your frustration was boiling over as you barged in, startling the group gathered around the table. Pierre, Kika, Arthur, Dennis, and Joris all looked up at you in varying states of confusion.

“Joris,” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “I will kill you.”

Joris blinked, holding his hands up in defense. “What did I do?”

“Apparently you figured it was a good idea to take the last decent room, and left me with the one upstairs,” you hissed. “Which, by the way, shares a bathroom with Charles.”

Arthur burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. “You just figured that out? Oh, this is gold.”

Joris’ confused expression turned sheepish. “Okay, wait. I didn’t know that if I didn’t take the upstairs room, you’d end up with it. I thought the downstairs one was just the last one left.”

“And you didn’t think about who would be upstairs with Charles?” you snapped, your tone laced with sarcasm.

Joris shrugged, an amused grin tugging at his lips. “I mean... I thought you’d appreciate the proximity to him.”

You groaned, turning to Pierre, who was clearly trying to stifle his laughter. “Pierre, switch rooms with me. Please.”

Pierre leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah, no. That’s not happening. Kika and I have a nice setup downstairs, and I’m not about to share a bathroom with anyone. We need our privacy.”

“I need privacy too!” you argued, your voice rising in frustration.

“It’s different,” Pierre said, shooting you a pointed look. “Couples need privacy for... other things.”

“Ew. Stop. I don’t want to know,” you groaned, covering your ears dramatically.

You spun around to Arthur, narrowing your eyes. “You. Switch with me.”

Arthur raised his hands, laughing. “No can do. Charles would murder me. I snore too loud, and he’s all about his beauty sleep. He’d kick me out within a day.”

Your gaze shifted to Dennis, who immediately held up his hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve got the best room in the house—big bed, balcony, bubble bath. I’m not giving that up.”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. “You’re all useless.”

He leaned back smugly, grinning as if he’d just won the lottery. Then, as if to soften the blow, he added, “Well, I would’ve offered to let you stay in my room with me, but I think that would be the cause of my death.” His eyes flicked pointedly to your brother.

“Fair point,” Pierre said flatly, without missing a beat.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “No, that’s off-limits. But sharing a bathroom—with connecting doors—with the one guy you’ve always said was ‘off-limits’ is somehow not an issue? You’re a hypocritical ass.”

Pierre shrugged, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “First of all, sleeping in someone’s bed is completely different than sharing a bathroom,” he countered, folding his arms.

“And second,” he added with a knowing look, “the only reason I ever said that was because you had a little teenage crush on my best friend. And let’s be honest, at the time, he was way too old for you. But...” He trailed off, chuckling to himself. “I guess sticking to that would make me a bit of a hypocrite, considering I’m dating one of your friends now, and our age gap is even bigger.”

You groaned loudly, knowing you couldn’t win this side of the argument. “Whatever,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “That doesn’t change the fact that you know he’s the one person I want to avoid the most. You know I hate him,” you complained. “I can’t even stand the idea of his existence, let alone sharing a goddamn bathroom with him.”

“Relax,” Pierre said with a smirk. “It’s just a bathroom. There’s a lock on the door. You’ll survive.”

“Exactly,” came Charles’ voice from behind you. You spun around to find him leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed and an infuriatingly smug look on his face. “It’s not like sharing a bathroom means we’re obligated to shower together.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you snapped. “It might be worth it just to drown you.”

The group erupted in laughter, and Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a child. Just knock before you go in. Problem solved.”

You glared at him, furious “Why are you even meddling, you weren't even part of this conversation, are you just lurking around waiting to butt in on conversations?” you snapped.

Charles smirked, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Not my fault you’re loud enough to hear from every other room,” he replied, his tone light but with an edge of sarcasm.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides as you shot him a glare. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are,” he quipped, unfazed by your fury.

You sighed loudly "See, this is what I mean, this is what y'all are burdening me with" you complained, glaring at him once more, your frustration bubbling over. “You’re the last person I’d ever want to share a bathroom with.”

Charles smirked, stepping further into the kitchen, inching closer to you, until he was close enough to whisper in your ear. “Good thing it’s not up to you, then.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides as you shot him a glare, your voice sharp and dripping with annoyance. “Fuck you, Charles.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider as he tilted his head slightly, feigning innocence. “Tempting,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing, “but I don’t think you could handle it.”

Pierre clapped his hands together, interrupting the argument. “Alright, enough. Give it a try for a few days. If it’s really that bad, we’ll figure something out. But I doubt it’ll be the end of the world.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Fine. But if I end up committing a murder, just know it’s on all of you.”

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After the heated argument downstairs, you stormed up the stairs to your designated bedroom, Arthur trailing behind you with his ever-present smug smirk. His long strides brought him into the room before you could even process your frustration fully. He flopped unceremoniously onto your bed, bouncing slightly as he sprawled out, his arms behind his head like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Meanwhile, you busied yourself with unpacking your suitcase, each item you placed in the wardrobe an outlet for your simmering annoyance. The rhythmic sound of hangers sliding against the bar was oddly soothing—until you caught Arthur watching you with that infuriating grin plastered across his face.

"What?" you snapped, not even turning to face him.

Arthur’s eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, nothing. Just waiting for you to protest again"

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Before you could even begin to voice your frustration, Arthur sat up, one hand raised in mock surrender. "Nope! Let me stop you right there. This wasn’t just on me.”

Without thinking, you grabbed a pair of joggers from your suitcase and lobbed them at him. The fabric smacked him square in the face with a satisfying thwack.

“Merde!” he exclaimed, his laughter spilling out as he dramatically tossed the joggers aside. “Violence is not the answer, you know.”

“Neither is being useless,” you shot back, crossing your arms. "Arthur, you could have at least tried something! Anything would have been better than this.”

He leaned back against the headboard, folding his arms as if settling in for a long discussion. “Trust me, I did. But there wasn’t much to work with. Your brother doesn’t want to switch because—well, come on, you know why. He’s here with his girlfriend, and honestly, he made a fair point.”

You made a disgusted face, wrinkling your nose. “Fair point or not, it still sucks for me.”

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly. “And then there’s Joris. He’s obviously got a thing for Gigi, and guess what? Gigi sleeps downstairs. Perfect excuse for him to ‘accidentally’ run into her more often.”

“Gross,” you muttered, shoving another shirt into the wardrobe.

Arthur grinned, clearly enjoying your irritation. “And let’s be real: Inès and Gigi met Charles today. Can you imagine how awkward it’d be for either of them to share a bathroom with him? What if they walk in each other accidentally. That’s like… social torture. At least you’ve known him for years.”

You spun around, throwing your hands in the air. “I’M UNCOMFORTABLE TOO, ARTHUR!”

“Yeah, but that’s just you two being… you two,” he quipped, gesturing vaguely between you. “It’s a highly unlogical—”

“Illogical,” you corrected sharply.

“Whatever.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s an illogical issue between the two of you. At least you know him well enough to, I don’t know, coexist?”

You exhaled sharply, knowing he wasn’t entirely wrong but unwilling to admit it. “Fine. But Dennis? He’s my friend! He could have helped me out instead of hogging the nicest room in the house.”

Arthur snorted. “You know Dennis and Paul! I’m pretty sure they're just quietly rooting for some ‘enemies to lovers’ drama between you and Charles. Probably think it’s entertaining"

You stared at him in disbelief, heat rising to your cheeks. “Oh my God. Why do you all think this is some slow-burn romance novel? I’m not in love with him anymore. That was just a stupid teenage crush!”

Arthur grinned wider, clearly delighted. “Sure, sure. But that doesn’t mean you two don’t have… something.”

“Ugh!” You grabbed a pillow and launched it at him, but he easily dodged, laughing as he slid off the bed to avoid further projectiles.

“Relax, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking,” he teased, leaning casually against the wall. “And for the record, I would have swapped with you. But Charles would kill me. You know how I snore, and—let’s be real—we’ve already lived together long enough. He’d probably prefer sharing a bathroom with you than enduring that again.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I just don’t get it. He hates me just as much as I hate him. Why would he rather share with me than you?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his knowing smirk returning. “Oh, I have my theories. But I’m staying out of it.”

“That’s not helpful,” you muttered, exasperated.

Arthur chuckled, pushing off the wall. “Look, you could always sleep on the couch. But if you do…” He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You’re letting him win.”

“Fair point,” you admitted begrudgingly.

Arthur patted your shoulder as he walked toward the door. “Good luck surviving the week. Don’t kill each other—well, at least not where anyone can see.”

Once he was gone, the silence of the room felt heavy. You sighed, glancing toward the adjoining bathroom door—the one that connected your room to Charles’.

As if on cue, the faint sound of running water reached your ears. You groaned inwardly, already dreading the inevitable awkward encounters. Maybe Arthur was right. Maybe this was all just some cosmic joke meant to test your patience.

But as you sank onto the edge of the bed, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something else—something unsettling that you didn’t want to name. Whatever it was, you shoved it aside, determined to prove that you could handle this without giving anyone the satisfaction of watching you squirm.

For now, you focused on unpacking the rest of your things, trying to ignore the quiet tension creeping in through the bathroom door.

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Later that day, the dinner table was alive with chatter, forks scraping plates, and glasses clinking as the group settled into an easy rhythm of conversation. The garden outside glowed under the string lights Pierre had painstakingly strung earlier, their warm light casting a soft glow over everyone seated at the table. Plates were piled high with food, the occasional burst of laughter cutting through the gentle hum of evening crickets.

You sat between Dennis and Arthur, trying your best to ignore the magnetic pull of Charles, seated directly across from you. He was deep in conversation with Joris about the best overtaking strategies, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke. You told yourself you weren’t paying attention, but your eyes betrayed you, flickering to him more often than you’d like.

Arthur leaned over, breaking your reverie. “You’ve barely touched your plate,” he teased, nodding toward your half-eaten dinner.

“Maybe I lost my appetite after sitting across from that,” you said pointedly, your fork gesturing vaguely in Charles’ direction.

Charles, sharp as ever, caught the jab immediately. His green eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned back in his chair, resting an arm lazily on the table. “Careful,” he drawled. “That attitude of yours might scare away any remaining appetite you have.”

Dennis snickered quietly beside you, earning a glare from you and a soft punch to his shoulder. “Don’t encourage him,” you muttered.

“Who, me?” Dennis asked innocently.

The banter escalated as the evening wore on. Drinks began to flow more freely—wine for most, a few beers for the others—and snacks were passed around as the group moved to the garden chairs scattered across the lawn. The stars above provided the perfect backdrop, but you were too caught up in the ebb and flow of conversation to appreciate them fully.

You and Charles kept up your usual sniping, each comment sharper than the last. It wasn’t long before Pierre, clearly exasperated, threw up his hands. “Enough, you two. I swear, if you keep this up, we’ll have to start taking bets on which one of you snaps first.”

“I’m not snapping,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Charles smirked, taking a leisurely sip of his drink. “Neither am I. I’m having the time of my life.”

The group burst into laughter, easing the tension momentarily. But across the garden, Dennis leaned toward Arthur, his voice dropping low enough to stay out of earshot.

“Am I the only one seeing it?” Dennis asked, his gaze darting between you and Charles.

Arthur followed his line of sight, frowning slightly. “Seeing what?”

“Come on, Thur,” Dennis said, nudging him. “The tension. The way they bicker? That’s not just hate. That’s something else.”

Arthur hesitated, his brows furrowing. “I don’t know. With her? I can��t tell. She used to have a thing for him, sure. But now? One moment I think she’s over it, and the next…”

Dennis grinned knowingly. “She’s not over it. And Charles? He’s head over heels. Look at the way he watches her when she’s not looking. The guy’s smitten.”

Arthur laughed at him "I've had my suspicions about him for a while, but he's difficult to read"

“Just saying, the sexual tension is insane.” Dennis laughed.

Arthur groaned, leaning back in his chair. “You’re talking about my brother. Ew.”

"Hey, in all honesty. If he indeeds feels that way about her, I don't judge him.." Dennis laughed at the disgusted face that Arthur was pulling "Because, come on, you gotta admit it, she's hot"

Arthur shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Yeah, she’s hot. I'm aware of that, but I don’t see her that way. Never did, to be honest. We kissed a couple of times, but it was never like that" he said, a laugh present on his face as he thought back to the memories "I guess like once or twice during drinking games, and I remember one time when we were just young and hopeless, so we tried kissing like once, but it honestly was like… kissing my sister. Just weird.”

Dennis nodded, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I know that, Thur. But your brother? He doesn’t seem to think it’s weird.”

Dennis was watching you and Charles with barely concealed amusement, his eyes flicking between the two of you like he was watching a slow-motion car crash. He leaned a little closer to Arthur, smirking. "I mean, come on," he said under his breath. "Do they think they’re fooling anyone?"

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "They’ve been like this for ages. It’s exhausting just being around it."

Gigi, sitting nearby and clearly picking up on their hushed tones, laughed softly and joined in. “It’s mildly funny, though. They’re trying so hard to keep up this weird act of hating each other. Like, come on—it’s obvious they don’t actually hate each other.”

Dennis grinned, nodding toward Charles. “Right? The guy looks like he’s about to break his neck just to glance at her without being obvious.”

Gigi shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “What I don’t get is what caused all this. They used to be great friends. Back when she was still in love with him” she explained “they were actually kind of inseparable. So, what changed?”

Dennis tilted his head, considering her words. “Do you think she's still in love with him?”

Gigi paused, her brow furrowing slightly. “Honestly? I don’t think so. I mean, she still thinks he’s hot—because, let’s face it, he is hot—but she doesn’t act the way she used to. Back then, she was constantly hopeful. And let's face it, he was her first ever proper crush, so he might have a special place, but I don't think she's still in love with him. Now it's just different"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“She just seems... done. Like she gave up on him a while ago.” Gigi shrugged again, her tone thoughtful. “And honestly, I don’t blame her. If Charles does feel something now, he's probably too late. She’s waited long enough. Sure, when she was younger, the age gap made sense. She was too young. But by the time she was, like, 20, she was old enough. She still had feelings for him then, and he never even did anything about it.”

Dennis tapped his chin dramatically. “That’s rough. And if he does admit something now, what do you think? Should she go for it?”

Gigi frowned, her gaze shifting toward you briefly. “I don’t know. It would feel... weird. Like, if he didn’t see her that way before, why now? It might just feel like he’s choosing her because it’s convenient.”

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples. “Can we not psychoanalyze my brother’s love life, please?”

Gigi shifted her gaze to Dennis, a sly grin spreading across her face. “What about you? You and her seem close. Maybe something’s blossoming there?”

Dennis raised an eyebrow, a surprised chuckle escaping him. “Me and her? Nah, come on.”

Gigi tilted her head, still smirking. “What? I’m just saying, you two seem to have this... vibe.”

Dennis laughed, shaking his head. “Look, she’s hot. I’d hook up with her in a heartbeat if she wanted to, but something serious? Nah. We both know it’s not like that.”

Gigi rolled her eyes, clearly amused. “You’re an idiot.” she laughed.

Arthur leaned back, groaning dramatically. “Why are we even having this conversation? Can we not dissect every potential romantic possibility?”

Gigi laughed. “Oh, come on, Arthur. Admit it. It’s entertaining.”

Arthur shook his head, muttering under his breath. “You all need help.”

Both Gigi and Dennis laughed out loud at Arthur's comment, finding it funny how Arthur reacted.

Before anyone could say more, their conversation was cut short when Charles, who had clearly overheard snippets of their hushed tones, called out from across the garden. “What’s so funny over there?”

Arthur, Dennis, and Gigi exchanged a quick look before Arthur spoke, his tone far too casual. “Oh, nothing much. Just debating which one of us would survive the longest if we had to endure one of your lectures on strategy.”

Charles narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Sure,” he muttered, turning back to his conversation with Joris. But the faint twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement, even as he pretended not to care.

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As the night wore on, the group began to disperse, some heading to bed while others lingered to enjoy the cool night air. You made your way up to your room, feeling restless. Grabbing the cigarette Inès had reluctantly given you earlier, you stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze brushing against your skin.

The first drag burned your throat, a harsh reminder of why you’d quit. But tonight, the weight in your chest felt heavier than usual, and this seemed like the only way to breathe again.

The quiet was short-lived. The soft creak of the balcony door opening made you stiffen, and when you turned, you found Charles stepping out.

“If you’re planning to mock me for smoking, shut up,” you said, not even trying to hide your annoyance.

Charles raised his hands defensively. “I wasn’t planning on anything.”

He leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the view rather than you. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the tension ebbing into something softer.

“Are you going to keep standing there, or are you taking a seat?” you asked, nudging a chair toward him with your foot.

He sat without a word, the quiet between you stretching but not uncomfortable.

“I thought you quit,” he said finally, his voice soft.

You took another drag, exhaling slowly. “I did.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Figures.”

“But then my best friend decided it was a good idea to take me on a holiday and make me share a bathroom and connecting rooms with his brother" You smirked faintly "Don’t know if you’ve met him, but he’s got a massive ego and loves getting on his brother’s best friend’s nerves. Pathetic, really.”

Charles laughed, the sound low and warm. “Can’t say I’ve met him. But he probably has a good reason.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh, a rare moment of peace between the insults. You held out your cigarette to him, a small gesture of truce.

Charles hesitated before taking it, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The touch was fleeting but electric, sending a jolt through him that he didn’t entirely wanted to administer. He took a drag, exhaling slowly, his eyes on the stars.

“For someone who claims to hate me this much, this seems pretty generous,” he said, handing it back.

“Maybe I’m trying to ruin your lungs so you screw up your next race,” you replied dryly, leaning back in your chair.

Charles hummed in mock agreement. “Hmm. If you say so.”

The silence lingered between you and Charles, stretching into something neither of you was used to—quiet, companionable, and strangely comfortable. You stared out at the darkened garden, the faint glow of the string lights from below casting soft shadows across the balcony. The cigarette burned low between your fingers, the occasional ember flaring as you took a slow drag.

Charles shifted slightly in his seat, his arms resting casually on the chair's arms, his eyes flicking to you when he thought you weren’t looking. The lines of his face were softened by the night, his usual sharpness replaced by a contemplative calm.

“You’ve gotten quieter,” you muttered, breaking the silence. “What? Run out of things to argue about already?”

He smirked, glancing at you. “Just pacing myself. Don’t want to exhaust all my good comebacks in one night.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Oh, please. I’ve heard them all before. You’re not that original.”

“Maybe I’m just giving you a chance to catch up,” he quipped, a faint grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed softly, shaking your head, and for a moment, it almost felt easy—like the walls you’d both carefully built were thinning, letting something more natural seep through.

The two of you lapsed back into silence, the occasional sound of the night filling the void. Charles tapped his fingers lightly against the chair, his rhythm steady, almost soothing. He tilted his head back slightly, staring up at the stars.

“What do you think they’re talking about down there?” he asked suddenly, nodding toward the garden where the others were still chatting.

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Knowing Arthur and Dennis? Something dumb. Probably debating the best flavor of chips or some other nonsense.”

Charles chuckled softly. “Sounds about right.”

Minutes passed, the quiet stretching comfortably between you. Occasionally, your gazes met, and though neither of you spoke, there was an unspoken exchange—something in the way his eyes softened just slightly when he looked at you.

Finally, you stood, brushing ash from your hands. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom and go to bed.”

Charles didn’t respond immediately, his eyes following your movements. Just as you reached the doorway, he called out softly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

“You know,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “aside from all the arguments… you know I don’t actually hate you, right?”

You froze in the doorway, his words hanging in the air between you. Slowly, you turned, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You have a shit way of showing that,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

Charles gave you a small, almost rueful smile. “I’ll work on it.”

You stared at him for a moment longer before nodding. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, watching as you disappeared inside.

In the bathroom, the scent of him lingered—subtle but unmistakable. It was maddening how easily it unsettled you, making your chest tighten with an unspoken weight. You closed the door behind you, locking both his and your side with care, as if the physical barrier could somehow keep your thoughts at bay.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the faint steam from the earlier shower still clinging to the edges of the glass. “Get over it,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible. “You hate him. Remember?”

But the words felt hollow, even to your own ears.

The shower’s warm spray hit your skin, washing away the tension that had settled in your shoulders, but it couldn’t quite cleanse your mind. Images of his face lingered—his small, almost shy smile when he’d said he didn’t hate you, the way his fingers had brushed against yours earlier when you passed him the cigarette.

You lingered longer than usual, hoping the heat of the water would somehow dissolve the confusion swirling inside you. When you finally stepped out and dried off, you felt no closer to clarity, only exhaustion.

Back in your room, the muffled sounds of movement from the adjoining space made you pause. You could hear him faintly—the soft creak of his bed, the shuffle of fabric as he adjusted his position. It was strangely intimate, knowing he was so close, separated only by a thin wall.

Sliding into bed, you stared at the ceiling, the room’s quiet amplifying the sounds next door. Your mind drifted despite your best efforts, and with a sigh, you reached for your phone.

You: Bathroom’s free

You'd typed it quickly, hesitating for a moment before pressing send. Before you could even process your message, the reply already came.

Charles: Thanks.

You put your phone on your nightstand, plugging it in the charger, before crawling deeper beneath the covers. You tried to fall asleep, but it felt impossible. Every movement he made, every creak of his bed, echoed faintly. It made you realize once more, in what close proximity you both were, keeping you awake longer than you’d like. Eventually though, sleep claimed you, surprisingly peaceful despite everything.

next part

[notapradagurl7]

By Your Side.

BlackFem!Witch!Reader x Terry Wizard!Richmond from Netflix film Rebel Ridge.

Taglist: @lovedlover @avoidthings @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @brattyfics @soft-persephone @planetblaque @sageispunk @megamindsecretlair @theblacklewinsky @sweettea-and-honeybutter @melaninpov @keyera-jackson @browngirldominion

Summary: You were a gifted professor for all black magic academy, teaching your students alongside Terry, where you discover a strange flower and leaves you alone with him.

A/N: don’t forget to re-blog, comment and like to support your favorite writers, and press the button for a request, So I was thinking in order to get back in the zone of writing, I combined Harry Potter but made it with only black people. Why not? Enjoy!🫡

Warning: +18, dirty talk, sex pollen, profanity, nipple play, violence, praise, spanking, use of magic, soft Terry, protective Terry, aftercare, brat reader, Terrybrat tamer! Slight corruption kink, masturbation,

—————

You stood beside Terry underneath the tree with your almond brown eyes watching the young adult melanated students of various shades standing side by side with their indestructible wands rested in their hands, pointing straight for the Greek god statues, the yellow energy crackling from their fingertips and spreading towards it, creating their own versions of art. Making the statues into themselves.

"Look at them go," Terry said, his voice smooth and playful, as he leaned closer to you. His cloak moved slightly with his movements.

"I think they’re actually going to turn that statue into a giant version of themselves. I mean, who knew they had such big egos?" he joked, rolling his green eyes at them.

You chuckled, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "Well, they certainly have the talent to back it up. Just look at how they’re channeling their energy. It’s fucking impressive!”

You couldn’t help but smile at their joy, laughter bursting from their lips, their hair styled in small afros, low fades, in locs, box braided to their elbows, starighted and lastly, dressed in black, red, yellow, green hooded cloaks dawned to their ankles, black loafers and Mary Ann shoes.

“Remember when we were students at Willowstiff? Professor Anderson almost caught us passing notes in Potion class?” Terry mentioned with a grin, his tone was deep yet gentle.

You were a professor at the Wiilowstiff Academy alongside Terry Richmond, many other professors and your students talking about whatever crossed their mind, unfortunately gossip and rumors spread like wildfire on campus.

“Thankfully, I used that Change Emotion and Time Spell, he forgot immediately,” You chuckled, and your eyes landed on him.

You nodded at the fond memory of being a student at the same academy, where you and Terry became professors, the two of you had been good friends since you were students. Ready to conquer the world and defeat evil.

“I’d always liked that about you, your quick thinking and wit...”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lips at his words, watching the students float in mid-air while doing back flips. “And I always liked your honesty and kindness Terry..”

Standing behind the castle, located in the spacious backyard, the castle painted grey nestled in the middle of the vast forest, hidden from human eyes, danger and free to be themselves without judgment, without the ridicule of the world, the green grass underneath their shoes.

“Terry...” you began, your voice soft. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve come? From those awkward kids in class to where we are now?”

He met your gaze, the warmth in his green eyes making your heart flutter. “Yes. And I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else. You’re the best partner a guy could ask for.”

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, and you felt a rush of affection for him. You smiled back at Terry.

The school was built by a married black couple with magic, wanting young black witches and wizards to harness their magic and embrace their identity. It was a sanctuary, a home where they could grow their powers and learn the rich history of their ancestors.

It was a luxury that you cherished forever, being yourself in various ways, even the forest was magic, hidden away in the depths of somewhere.

The ink black sky decorated with sparkling stars hovered the both of you, you pointed out to one student that asked for help, trying a different spell and it worked perfectly, Terry stole glances with his green eyes, smirking at the man as you walked back to his side.

The buzzing rumor in the air was Terry had a crush on you ever since you both became professors at this campus.

You were dressed in a black cloak with a dress, your black box braids pulled back in a ponytail. Your melanated skin glistened underneath the moonlight, your pretty face on cue.

The college students were young after all, often showing insouciance in some schoolwork, but loved doing the magic part of the school, you were like that but they changed over the years.

“Good job Faith! I see your technique, and Jordan! Don't show off because you like her!”

The brown-skinned young male rubbed the back of his neck and looked the other way. The wind brushed across your face and you exhaled the warm breeze.

Until one of your students discovered something growling near the stump of a bulky tree, your eyes quickly stopped her, “Amaya! Don't touch that!” you yelled out.

Amaya backed up immediately until the flower growled at her, eyes glowing red and growing larger, “well..well..time to eat!”

Amaya ran toward you and hid behind you, gripping your cloak. The young dark brown-skinned woman closed her eyes shut in fear, her locs pulled back.

“W-what is that?!” she exclaimed, you wrapped her in a protective manner.

“It’s a dangerous creature that kills witches and wizards, he spreads sex pollen, hopefully you won’t get affected..” You warned softly.

Terry’s eyes landed on you, “I'll assist by your side, Professor..”

You clapped twice and caught their attention, “Okay, students time to head in your dorms!! You too Amaya!”

The students groaned in unison and said “Yes, Professor L/N!” in a cautious tone, they walked in groups and, you rolled your eyes at them once again. Running off in separate groups and saying their goodbyes.

Being the ex-Marine he was, Terry's arms gathered around the students and made a motion with his hands for a swirling portal, the students jumped through the portal and vanished quickly.

“Thank you, Terry..”

“You’re welcome Y/N..” he said, standing by your side.

With a flick of your wrist, you summoned your own energy, feeling the warmth of your magic flow through your body. Terry did the same, bursting beams of light while Terry struck it with lighting.

The petals clutched around the yellow stem, throwing pollen at you. It exploded and the pink specks of pink pollen, fallen down near you and Terry until blew it away with a wave of his hand. Winds blew it into thin air.

“Are you alright?” He asked with concern, quickly turning to you.

You shook your head from side to side, “Unfortunately, the residue of the pink pollen doesn’t have to just touch you, it spreads like a virus.” You coughed, covering your mouth with your cloak.

“I should’ve acted quickly enough then you wouldn’t be affected, I’m sorry..” Terry replied softly, his face turned toward the flower that changed to a man.

Terry zoomed toward the flower man, his hands gripping the collar of his shirt and punched him in the stomach, lighting dancing around his fist. His hands gripped his ankles and flipped the man over, Blood trickled from its gut and sent the man sprawling into the ocean.

After the battle, your knees shaking weakly and almost fell to the grass, until Terry caught you with his hands. A heavy fever washed over you rather quickly, your breath became heavy.

The pollen made heat pool all over your body, your heart beating faster than usual, and an ache between your legs that started to hurt. You gazed at Terry and your breath hitched, clenching your legs again.

Your eyes fell to his lips, body, and face. Terry was so pretty, you whimpered softly but he kept asking you if you were okay, all you could do was shake your head. Familiar wetness pools between your thighs.

“T-Terry…I feel aroused and..” before you say another word, Terry lifted you carefully and carried your bridal style, snapping his fingers and a swirling green portal appeared before you, he stepped through it and you were in his spacious bedroom, your eyes roamed the place.

The four walls in sage green surrounding the two of you, The dim light from the candles flickered around the room, casting playful shadows on the walls. You could smell the rich aroma of incense wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs and a hint of something sweet like citrus.

The ex-Marine turned wizard professor carried the trauma with him but teaching the students helped subside it, seared in his brain for battle.

It was very clean from what you saw, with not much decoration but a regular room with the walls painted in sage green, rock music was his favorite genre. Deftones, Paramore & Radiohead were both of your favorites.

His head leaned in closer slightly, enough to give you space and his face softened, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he should’ve been more responsible. “This is so fucking bad, I gotta help you,” he said softly.

“The plant must've had some kind of aphrodisiac,” He spoke to you, catching your body shake from his touch.

“W-we can go back to the castle, they can help but I forgot that you don't live near the campus,” you said weakly, coughing still.

“I already notified the professors about the problem Y/N through a call, Genevieve is already up my ass about it..” Terry sighed, rolling his eyes.

Terry gently laid you on his bed, the blanket sprawled across the edge of the bed. He lifted your ankles and he looked at you with worry, “May I take off your shoes?” He asked gently.

Genevieve would usually scold Terry about anything when it came to you, she understood that he was an ex-Marine and you were friends but she was your sister. Like two peas in a pod, it seemed like no matter what happened, Terry was there to protect you.

“Gen is very protective, you know that,” you giggled.

“I get that but she’s always blaming me..” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You nodded at him, “its not your fault. Yes, you may. I'm starting to become hot in these clothes,” watching the man gently unzipped your black boots.

“Y/N, are you alright? The pollen…it can have some intense side effects.”

You could feel the heat radiating from your skin, and for a moment, you were lost in the warmth of his gaze. “I’ll be fine, Terry. Just a little… overwhelmed,” you admitted, your voice shaky as you tried to sit up.

“I’m a delicate flower, you know,” you huffed, trying to sound tough despite the heat coursing through your body. “I can handle myself.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, I know you can. But right now, you look like you could use a little help. Let me take care of you for once, alright?”

You watched him as he knelt by the edge of the bed, his strong hands gently untying your shoes. The tenderness in his movements made your heart race, and you feel a flutter in your stomach.

He looked up at you, his expression serious yet playful. “Maybe I just like having an excuse to be close to you,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he tossed your shoes aside to the corner of the room.

Your feet rested on the bed, You felt your cheeks warm. “You’re such a dork.”

“A dork who cares about you,” he retorted, a hint of sincerity in his tone. “And I’m not going to let you down when you need me.”

Your eyes landed on his ass, it was really nice. “Stop staring at my ass, girl.” he shot back.

You giggled softly, and your cheeks grew hot while you bit down on your lip. Was this pollen or only you alone? Maybe it was you, you liked Terry but the rules said that professors shouldn’t have a relationship.

You took off your cloak and tossed your dress aside, grabbing one of Terry’s oversized tee shirts, sliding it down, dawning to your thighs. “T-Terry.. I’ll be in the bathroom..”

You rushed into the bathroom and locked the door, you sat on the closed toilet lid. Gently pull down your panties and pull off the oversized tee shirt. Your fingers sunk between your folds and you moaned loudly. “Fuck!”

You rubbed your left titty in a circle and fingered yourself for the past fourteen minutes, thinking of Terry made it worse and pleasuring yourself wasn't working, fuck. This is embarrassing, you couldn't cum.

You stood up from the toilet and washed your hands clean, drying them with a towel. You sighed in irritation. “Y/N? Are you

You opened the door and pouted again, Terry

Terry carefully peeled away the layers of your cloak, revealing the soft fabric of your dress beneath. He paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, a hint of something electric passing between you.

“How come you didn't get affected by the pollen? This is unfair..” you grumbled, unbuttoning the front of your dress and you allowed it to fall to your sock-clad feet.

“I'm pretty good at what I do..” he bragged, shrugging.

“C-can you pass me one of your tee shirts please?” you asked him in a gentle tone.

Terry’s gaze widened for a moment as he processed your request, and a teasing smile crept onto his lips. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, don’t you?” He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as he walked to his closet.

“Just a shirt, Terry. Not a marriage proposal,” you shot back, trying to sound playful, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

He chuckled, pulling out a soft, oversized orange tee that bore the logo of a band you both liked. “This should do the trick,” he said, tossing it to you. “But I might need to charge you for it later.”

You caught the shirt, a laugh escaping your lips. “I’ll pay you with my undying gratitude,” you quipped, pulling the shirt over your head. The fabric was warm and comforting, but the heat from the pollen still simmered beneath your skin.

As he settled back on the edge of the bed, his eyes studied you with a mix of concern and something deeper. “

You didn't want either of you to lose your jobs because of one night, he was only taking care of you at the moment. You were nervous around him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Terry, focus,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not in the mood for flattery.”

“Y/N. Let me make the antidote.” He turned to stand up and faced his bedside table.

Terry snapped his fingers, a book appeared in front of him and turned the pages, took off his cloak and revealed his body clad in a suit, his body through the clothes was memorizing.

“Sex pollen, the side effects are heat in the body, fever and weakness. arousal, I'm making the antidote and the other cure is physical contact..” Terry trailed off, his voice deepened.

His hand grabbed the steaming cup from the air, a hint of honey and rosemary, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste seething on your tongue, you covered your mouth. It was disgusting, did he put a goblin’s shit in the cup? Rose petals atop the tea.

“Look at me, I know it's not good but it's gonna help with that fever, just swallow and then breathe..” Terry reassured softly, humming lightly.

Swallowing it immediately after you made a gagging noise, taking a breath as he said “That was fucking gross, what did you put in that?!” you exclaimed, drinking from a cup filled with water at the beside table.

He chuckled lightly, he held up his three fingers. “In three…two..one..” he counted with a stren tone.

Your fever finally faded away, but the heat pooling between your thighs made it worse, clenching them close and your clit throbbed again.

You looked up at Terry and suddenly went silent, pursuing your lips. “My fever is gone..” you said softly.

His arms are crossed, showing off a few of his tattoos, “See what happens when you listen to your professor?” he teased with a deep tone.

Your heart raced as you tried to regain your composure. “Okay, Mr. Richmond, you’ve done your job,” you teased back, attempting to inject some levity into the moment.

“You're still flushed..”

But the heat in your body was not just from the fever; betraying you with the way you responded to him, “You know I’ve always wanted to take care of you in more ways than one,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced at his words, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own. “Terry, we shouldn’t...” you started, but the words died in your throat as he took another step closer.

“Why not?” he challenged, his voice low and sultry. “We’re both adults. We’ve been dancing around this for far too long.”

Your mind raced. You knew the rules about professors, but the thought of Terry wanting you, needing you, sent a thrill through your body. The heat between your thighs throbbed painfully, begging for attention.

“What if… what if someone finds out?” you managed to say, though your body betrayed you by leaning slightly into him.

Terry’s hand reached up, brushing a stray braid behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Let them. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about you.” His eyes searched yours, filled with longing and determination.

“I want you, Y/N. Right here, right now. I'm sure will still have our jobs, the campus was made by a married couple after all,”

Your heart raced at his confession, and the heat pooling in your core intensified. “But what if it ruins everything?” you breathed, your gaze darting to his lips, torn between desire and caution.

He stepped even closer, closing the distance between you until his body was mere inches from yours. “Sometimes things have to change to be better. I care about you too much to hold back any longer,” he said, his breath warm against your skin.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet demanding kiss. Pulling away from him, “T-Terry…uh..can you fuck me please?” you begged him, clenching on his shirt.

His hand wrapped around your neck, making sure he kept your gaze on his. “A good girl is supposed to listen and you've been a brat, the back and forth, the teasing, finger fucking yourself in my bathroom..” he shot back, smirking.

Terry carefully unbuttoned the back of your dress, falling down to your feet while it was tossed aside, he unbuttoned his shirt and zipped his pants. Clothes riddled across the brown hardwood floor.

No panties but no bra, you hated bras with a burning passion. You weren't big-chested but you loved your body. Terry pulled down his boxers, his dick hung out. Long and thick, veiny.

“I'll be good this time Terry..” you pouted with a soft tone.

He gently pushed you down on your back, he hovered over you and the tip of his dick rubbed across your clit, rubbing his dick across your folds with sweet torture. “Are you sure? You're gonna behave for me?” he teased.

“Yes…Please…fuck me! Fuck me!” you cried out, your nails left marks on his shoulders. Your pussy clenched around nothing desperately for friction and whimpering. You rubbed your clit in circles and moaned again.

Terry moved your hand out of the way, smirking at you. Resuming to rub his dick across your wet folds, “Did I say that you could fuck yourself?”

“N-no…Terry! I’ll be good, I promise!” you cried out, tears rolling down your face.

He kissed your lips, “Here’s your reward, princess..”

He flipped you on your stomach and pushed his dick between your folds from behind, you gasped softly at his dick filling you completely, the ache fading slightly after each thrust.

“Oh fuck..Terry!” you cried out, balling up the blanket. Drool trickled from your lips. The more pleasure, the less ache was there. Crossing the line with him was a bad move but you needed him.

Terry's hands gripped your hips tightly as he thrust deeper, his breath coming in warm bursts against your skin. "That's it, Y/N. Let me hear you," he urged, his voice low and deep.

You felt the heat radiating from him, mingling with your own, creating a storm of sensations that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. Each thrust made you feel fuller, more alive, as though every part of you was awakening to the moment.

“Just like that,” he continued, his pace quickening, “You’re doing so fucking well.” His words wrapped around you, igniting a fire within that made you push back against him, longing for more.

“Don’t stop, please!” you begged, your voice breathless and desperate. You could feel the tension building within you, that sweet, sweet pressure begging for release.

Terry’s grip on you tightened as he leaned over, his breath brushing against your ear. “You want to fucking come? You’ve got to ask for it,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful authority.

“Please, Terry! I need it! I need to fucking come!” you cried out, the words spilling from your lips as he continued to pound into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Good girl,” he praised, his tone sultry and deep, making your heart race even faster. "Let go for me, Y/N. I want to feel you cum on my dick."

With that, you let yourself fall into the pleasure, your body arching as waves of bliss washed over you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you felt yourself unraveling, the tension finally snapping as you came hard around him.

“Fuck!” Terry groaned, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “That’s it, Y/N. Just like that.”

You felt him thrust deep one last time, his body shuddering against yours as he pulled out of you, tendrils of his cum landed on your stomach, the warmth filling you completely.

As you both came down from the high, Terry pulled you close, his hands tenderly stroking your back. “You okay?” he asked softly, concern lacing his tone as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with affection.

You nodded, your heart racing from both the intensity of what just happened and the warmth of his embrace. “Yeah, I’m okay… better than okay,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

Terry chuckled softly, brushing a strand of a braid from your face. “Good, because I’m not done yet,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the heat rise again within you. “Oh really?”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “You’ve got to be ready for round two then,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he captured your mouth in a lingering kiss.

————

[recklesssezon]

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Alessia encounters an unwanted attention and tries her best to hide it from you, knowing that you would absolutely do anything to keep her safe.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, assault, violence, ptsd, cursing, maybe attempt of murder

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | ik its been two months almost thre-anyways. this is 9 thousand something words and it took a lot of brain capacity.

The night was young, streetlights lit the city as rowdy adults filled London with joyous laughter. It was like any other Saturday night to most but not to Alessia.

She was leaving you home alone to attend Kyra's birthday party along with the other gunners. Usually, you'd be by her side through it all, but you were still healing from your previous fight.

Patched-up cuts and bruises here and there. None that you deemed bed-rest worthy, yet remained home to steer clear of the scolding you would get from your coaches.

So, here you were sitting with a large bucket of popcorn and the latest season of Love Island. It took a great deal to convince Alessia to leave your side for the night, refusing to go firsthand as the urge to smother you with love and care surged as time went on.

After countless reassurances and kisses, Alessia reluctantly switched out joggers for jeans and a pullover for a top. She stood in front of you, twirling to give you the 360. Deep down, you started to regret inducing her to go. While Alessia had a full blowout, you lounged on the loveseat with shorts and a sports bra. "And to think you didn't want to leave."

Alessia grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it, pointing a non-threatening finger at you. "Do not start teasing me. You were the one who was so adamant about me going. It's your fault I'm in this vest instead of my jumper."

"Love, if it makes you feel any better. I prefer you in nothing at all."

Alessia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance. You grinned, beckoning her over, even when you managed to annoy her Alessia could never resist you. She trudged to you, pursing her lip when you patted your lap.

You grunted as she plopped down on you, the unexpected force taking you by surprise. It was Alessia's turn to grin, hooking her arms around your neck, yours to her hips. "I take it you didn't like my joke."

You were unfazed by Alessia's evil eye, more than used to it. "You do not get to make jokes like that. You're forcing me to go to a party I don't want to go to and you're watching Love Island without me. You're being mean." You snorted, and with a click, the game show switched to one of your old fights.

Alessia turned her head away, your fights always made her a bit queasy hence why she never watched them. "Yes, how can I be so cruel to my lovely girlfriend? I should be punished for my crimes." Alessia slapped your chest, not a fan of your mockery.

"Quit the sarcasm. Save that for someone else other than the love of your life."

You pecked her cheek, a quick apology. "You're right. The love of my life only deserves respect and devotion." She nodded her head in agreement, her pride growing as she had the big bad fighter everyone knew lay down the treatment she deserves.

"That is correct but don't think this sucking up made me forget what you've done to me."

You groaned, throwing your head back. "Love, you haven't left my side since my fight, normally I wouldn't mind but you've been cooped up all week. And it's Kyra's birthday, imagine the headaches she'll give you for missing it."

Alessia could already see it, Kyra having a kick at her for not showing up. The Australian was known for her little sister energy that never ran out, much to the unlikes of her teammates. Alessia recalled Kyra's recent mischievous act.

A week ago, Steph forgot to grab Kyra's favorite candy when making a store run and a childlike Kyra took it to offense. She hadn't stopped yapping the entire day, Steph departed training with ringing ears that lasted the next day.

Alessia didn't want to have a similar outcome.

"That rascal hid my boots last time because I refused to prank Katie. A nuisance she is." You smiled, Alessia's annoyance that wasn't targeted towards you was amusing to watch. You slipped a hand under her top, rubbing the warm bare skin a contrast to your cold hands.

"So, what I'm hearing is that I'm right."

Alessia gave you no acknowledgment, gasping when she felt your thumb dip below her waistline. You leaned in for a kiss, though you were met with a flat palm to the face. You pulled back, scrunching your nose. Alessia smiled widely, "No messing up my lip gloss, darling."

For the very first, you scowled at Alessia's bright pink lips. The desire to botch Alessia's perfectly applied lipstick grew by the second. You exhaled sharply, leaning back to put some distance between you and her restricted lips. "That's unfair. You look ravishing and you're saying I can't kiss you? Must you tease me?"

Alessia giggled under her breath; she kissed your neck, unapologetic about her teasing. "Oh, my big baby. Have the consequences of your actions come to play?" You frowned at Alessia's mocking pout, the way she spoke as if she were speaking to a child stirred something within you.

You roughly tugged her closer, inches away from her lips. You removed one hand from her hips, gripping her jaw in a tight-loose hold. Your thumb swiped her bottom lip to the corner. Her once-perfect gloss now smudged and not in the way she would have liked.

You brought your thumb to your lips, putting on a little show, humming at the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Alessia froze, she didn't expect you to turn the tables on her so fast. You grabbed Alessia's phone out of her back pocket, hearing a ping. You opened her phone, purposely ignoring her. "Vic's here. You should get going if you don't want to be late."

Alessia remained unmoved, stuck in a trance you led her into. You chuckled, no emotion behind it, standing up causing Alessia no choice but to do so as well. You took her chin in between your two fingers, "A little quiet, aren't we? What's the matter, Alessia? Have the consequences of your actions come to play?"

Alessia gulped at the bite in your tone, she shouldn't have baited you. It always ended with her pinned to the bed, a position she loved yet a lesson she never intend to learn. Alessia's phone pinged once again, she paid it no mind too focus on your little stare-down. "Better get going before Vic comes up and knocks down our door."

Alessia hesitantly took her phone, squinting as if she was trying to figure out your plan. "Just like that?" You raised a brow, ignoring the pinch of pain as your stitches stretched.

"I can do worse than a smeared gloss, you of all people should know that. I suggest you leave now before you don't at all." Alessia's finger hovered over her lips, she could feel the slight stickiness at the corners of her lips. You hadn't done much to taint them, but Alessia wished you did.

Your eyes began to soften at Alessia's timid stature, tipping her head up with a finger. Wiping away the small mess you created. "Have fun tonight, okay? I love you."

A smile grew on Alessia, puckering her lips for a kiss. "I thought you didn't want to ruin your makeup" She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, pulling you down to finally bring you into a kiss you both craved.

Alessia was the first to separate, "I love you too. Don't wait up." She gave you one last peck, grabbing her purse on her way out. Swaying her hips side to side, mindful of your wandering eyes.

"Not having the time of your life are you, Less?"

Lia winced as Alessia's head snapped to her, "I am. Why do you ask?" Lia didn't believe the young girl and it showed, Alessia stuck herself at their rented-out booth, doing nothing else other than sipping on her club soda.

"You haven't moved since we got here. What? Are you not used to having your little bloodhound with you?"

That got a laugh out of Alessia, Lia grinned cheekily. You were always a topic used to tease Alessia, two total opposites that fit together like a puzzle. She pushed the national captain as she poked fun at her. You were deemed 'The Bloodhound' early in your career by the media after endless fights where you left the cage a bloodbath.

"You can say that. She's still heal-" The boisterous of their teammates cut Alessia off, stumbling and cackling at whatever their drunk minds thought was funny. Leah threw herself next to Lia, pointing to Katie, her finger unsteadied as a result of her tipsiness. "I got it last time, McCard. It's your turn."

The Irish childishly shook her head, throwing up the bird, "No." Leah huffed, her infamous frown appearing.  She turned to the person next to Katie. "Fine. Caitlin, you go."

"She's not going."

The blonde threw her arms up in frustration, so much for being capitan. "Someone had to go, Katie! You've been weaseling your way out of rounds for the last two months!" The said weasel denied it, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Leah's glare intensified, she wasn't a quitter, far from it. Even as a drunk, giving up was never in her dictionary. She stood up, ready to drag the queen of reds to do her go.

Lia, being the only sensible one there, quickly sat the Williamson down, giving her a warning not to start a fight.

"What about our depressed lover over there? She hasn't done anything. No dancing, no drinking. A little mood killer if you ask me." Katie winced as she received slaps from all around, unable to pinpoint who exactly hit her. Alessia cleared her throat, dumbfounded by how she got dragged in.

Lia held out a hand, stopping Katie from going off her rockers and possibly digging her own grave if you were to find out about how she spoke to your fiancé. "Hey, now. Alessia isn't in the mood, we should respect that and be happy she's even here." Alessia squeezed Lia's hand, thanking her for coming to her defense.

However, the people-pleaser side of Alessia won. She moved to stand, but Lia's hand halted her from doing any further. Her concerns made Alessia glad that she had someone in her corner for the wild night. "It's fine. She's sorta right, I've been a killjoy. Maybe this will loosen me up."

"Are you sure?"

Alessia gave Lia the okay, slipping out of her hold, and down to the crowd. Internally gagging at the stench of body odor hitting her unexpectedly. Fresh air welcomed her as she exited the crowd, breathing deeply, the cool air traveled through and around her body.

She rested her arms on the bar, calling the bartender for the round she volunteered to collect. Alessia daydreamed as she waited, snuggling up against you after tonight sounded like the perfect dream to make into a reality.

"Hi."

Alessia didn't flinch at the new voice, too caught up with herself to realize that she was being spoken to. She jumped slightly at the tap on her shoulder, surprised by the close proximity. "Oh, hi." It was small and brief, a simple acknowledgment of him. That's all. At least Alessia thought it was.

"Are you here alone?"

Alessia shook her head uninterested, looking back at the bartender to see if he was preparing her order. He wasn't.

"Who are you here with?"

She sighed, annoyed that he couldn't get the hint. Unbothered to look at him, Alessia answered, hoping the mentioned presence of her team would scare him off. "I'm here with my mates."

"Brilliant. Would your mates mind if I tag along?"

Alessia isn't the type to be easily angered, she grew up with two brothers by force she learned how to have more patience than the average person when it came to men and their small minds.

But something about this stranger irked her. So, she bit her tongue of what she really wanted to say, 'fuck off' and instead said, "They would actually. It's a girl's night and they'll be really upset if it was intruded."

Her saving grave, the bartender came back and he wasn't alone. Alessia quickly picked up the platter, leaving without so much of a goodbye.

There were no cheers or clicking of the shots, as everyone threw their head back to down the hard liquid. Kyra emerged from the crowd, eyes blown and a big smile that stretched cheek to cheek.

She latched onto Alessia's arm, "You're being boring tonight! It's my birthday!" Kyra tugged her to the middle of the room, an area Alessia tried to avoid.

Alessia grabbed onto the nearest person, drawing them along, soon enough a chain of gunners were trailing behind her. Alessia took shot after shot, shortly after, her body relaxed into the rhythmic beats.

She neglected to notice the unexpected hands on her waist as the hands closed around her, squeezing tightly, Alessia instantly knew that these hands weren't a friend of hers.

She roughly pulled away, spinning to see the stranger from the bar. He wore a smirk, smug that he got as close as he did with her. "What the hell are you doing?" He threw his arms to the side, showcasing a little dance of his.

"Dancing, dear. Come back, we were just having some fun."

Alessia shook her head, disgust seeped under her skin. She felt repulsed at some stranger touching her. "No, leave me alone. I am not interested."

"It looked like you were pretty interested. What was that move you did? The one where you were moving your hips side to side. Do you mind doing that again?"

Alessia turned away, thinking it would be best to take her leave rather than speak to him any further. Alas, the stranger couldn't care less. He followed Alessia, shoving bystanders out of his way. "Wait! Do not run off!" She ignored him, scurrying to the booth of gunners.

Just as Alessia was about to reach the table, she was pulled back. She gasped as a huge body engulfed her, Alessia mustered up the strength to push away but the attempt was too futile. "Get off!"

Alessia curled up as much as she could in his hold, his efforts to land a kiss on her neck was challenged by her strong resistance. "I'm a nice lad! Don't be so difficult!" He laughed in disbelief as Alessia struggled, the scene began to gather the attention of nearby clubbers.

"Let me go! Fuckin prick!"

Everything happened in a flash, Alessia was yanked away, bodies meddled between him and her. Mixture of brunettes and blondes filled Alessia's sight.

"You're okay. They're handling it."

Alessia could hardly register Viv's soft voice, the tall Dutch led her out the club, withdrawing from the chaos as the fight got bigger. Viv rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm the shaken girl.

She ignored the security guards that rushed into the building, faint sounds of glass breaking reached her ears. "I'll take you home as soon as Beth is done."

Panic swept through Alessia, red eyes going wide at the thought of returning home. "No! If I go home, she'll know something happened. I can't- I can't-" Viv hushed Alessia, hugging the younger as she spiraled.

Alessia didn't have to specify who she was talking about, only one person was waiting at home for Alessia. That person is you.

"Less, are you scared of yn?"

It was a question Viv didn't want to ask but did. Alessia's reaction to going home wasn't normal especially if it held the person who loved you and you, her. It's a red flag that Viv wasn't so quick to brush off.

Alessia flinched, staring at Viv as if she said the most absurd thing known to man. "What? No! No! Never! I'm scared for her! If she finds out what happened tonight-" Alessia suddenly stopped, she didn't want to believe what happened, happened.

How close he was, how his hands were all around her, how she felt his front pressed up against her. It physically and mentally sickened Alessia to the core.

She collected herself the best she could, staring straight into Viv's eyes. "She'll kill him. Viv, those beatings she does in the cages are nothing. That's her having fun. But this will set her off. You have to promise me that yn wouldn't hear a word about this. Viv promise me."

You couldn't find out, not when Alessia knew the lengths you'd go to protect her. Not when she knew how ill-tempered you were and how easily you got lost in your fit of anger. Alessia was your weakness, she knew that you knew that. Which is why you couldn't know, Alessia had no doubt you'd go on a manhunt to track down whoever harmed her.

Viv gazed into the abyss, unable to comprehend the fear Alessia had for you. You were someone with physical power, that Viv knew, you had the skills and scars to prove it. It was what you trained for, nearly two decades you've been building up your skills to hurt people for a living.

The active terror Alessia showed let Viv know that you were lawless by your own rules. "Okay, okay. I promise. And the others will too." That calmed Alessia down a bit, she leaned into Viv's side watching the passing cars as they waited for the rest.

"Fuck off!"

Katie came out first, followed by the rest of the players and security guards. Yelling and cursing lingered in the air, Viv ignored it, guiding Alessia to the car. "Let's wait in the car. It'll be a while before they quiet down."

The unfortunate events replayed in her mind like a broken record, it kept playing and playing. If she was lucky, sometimes it'd short-circuit. Then, all she could see was you, it felt like a dream. Like you weren't real, and that she was simply imagining someone to protect her to the very end.

But you were real.

You were real and Alessia had a tough time believing that. Believing that you her knight in shining armor. Whispers of promises in her ear at night, how you engraved that into her. But, you were nowhere to be seen when Alessia needed you the most. Instead, you were at home resting.

Part of Alessia wanted to blame you, yet she couldn't, she wouldn't. Not when you were her person, especially not when Alessia understood very well that if you were with her, you'd be in a jail cell by the time the sun rose.

You lost the ability of control when it came to Alessia, if someone were to so much as trip her, you'd return the favor tenfold. The more Alessia thought about you, the more she desired to go home.

"Hungry? We can go to Greggs."

Beth peered over at Alessia, the young striker hadn't made a peep since arriving at the couple's flat and that was hours ago. Beth and Viv stayed up the entire night nurturing Alessia to a certain extent, she allowed. Which wasn't much.

She inhabited the couch corner, not even a slight inch off. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or moved, her brain going haywire, and they couldn't do anything about it.

Beth kneeled, placing a comforting hand on Alessia's knee, gaining her attention without spooking her. "Why don't you take a shower? I imagine sticky sweat isn't the best feeling on the body."

Ease rippled through the couple as Alessia finally moved in the last eight hours, though it was short as Alessia's movements were slow and calculated. Beth patiently waited for her, directing Alessia to the awaiting shower that called her.

The shower did more than just cleanse Alessia of sweat, the overwhelming emotions of the night washed down the drain never to be seen or felt again. Alessia preferred it that way, it was better to believe that it was gone rather than it be stuck on her.

She'd rather be numb than feel what she felt in that dreadful encounter.

Alessia avoided looking into the mirror, squeezing the towel around her tight as she exited the warm steam. The coldness of the early morning greeted her, she walked over to the bed, holding up the Arsenal pull-over Beth set out for her.

She quickly put it on, brushing it down only for her eyes to catch the coloring on her hips. Her fingers lightly grazed the finger-print bruises, her breath hitches as flashbacks of his firm grip on her were physically felt in that second.

Alessia wanted to cry, she didn't want to feel as if someone was standing behind her, she didn't want to feel as if she was being touched like some sort of pet.

Alessia pushed down her tears along with anything else rising to the surface. She walked out the room, the conversation hushed as she came into view, and Alessia didn't care to bring it up knowing fully well it was about her. She sat next to Viv barely returning a smile, "Feel better?" Alessia ignored her, that was the better option.

The truth would raise more questions than she could handle right now. "I'm going home. Yn probably stayed up for me and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer." Understatement of the century. Alessia couldn't grasp the fact that time passed, only assuming, too stuck in her void to feel time's existence.

"Don't fret. I called her and told her you were too tired to make it home. She knows you're here."

Stunned, Alessia sent Beth a nod. "Thanks, but I should really get going." Viv and Beth got the obvious hint that Alessia didn't want to be there anymore, she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket, zipping past them.

The couple hastily followed behind, catching Alessia right at the door. "Let us drive you. We can get Greggs on the way." They didn't give Alessia too much room to argue, Viv grabbed her keys as Beth pushed her out the flat.

"You can ride front seat."

Alessia carefully closed the door, releasing a breath now that she was alone. Beth and Viv had been absolutely sweethearts to Alessia during her stay, but she needed time to herself, time away from eyes that were waiting for her to break.

Slowly and quietly, she shuffled to the kitchen, not a single object out of place since she left. Alessia grabbed a water bottle, the first source of intake she allowed her body to have. The Greggs paper bag perched on the counter, dismissing what Viv had gotten her.

In the safety of her own home, Alessia felt her body ease into itself, the familiarity of these four walls secured her protection and well-being. Something Alessia never thought she'd crave so much.

She went in search of the only person wanted, needed. Weights were lifted off of Alessia's chest when she caught you sleeping in bed, looking ever the most peaceful. A state that she wasn't going to ruin with the truth.

Alessia brushed loose strands out your face, laying on her side, snuggling up in your arms absent from the scary world. Her breath hitches as you pull her closer, "You're back." Your voice husky, eyes still shut half-asleep. Alessia's fingers found your dog tag, turning it over to see the engravement of her name and jersey number. A chain you wore proudly. "I'm back."

"Did you have fun?"

Her fiddling stopped, a small shutter of breath escaped her as the haunting hours came back, this is where Alessia was supposed to spew a little white lie. But she couldn't. Never has Alessia lied to you, never thinking she would need to. This would be a lot harder than she thought.

"Less, is everything okay?"

Your eyes barely opened, the bright light peaked through the curtain nerved your sensitivity. Alessia used her finger to soothe your wrinkles, humming as she tried to lull you back to sleep. "Can't remember much of it. I had too much to drink."

Two lies in one.

Alessia remembered everything and frankly, she didn't drink enough to forget.

You patted her back, comforting, "That's alright. You're home now." Your words brought her more comfort than you can imagine. Alessia was home now; she was home with you, within these four walls. She couldn't be more safer than she is right now.

In your upcoming years as a fighter, you were taught to control your emotions going as far as to eliminate them. The human instinct to feel sympathy for beating another wasn't an option when it came down to winning titles.

By default, you suppressed them to the alternatives outside the cage. Thus, you didn't experience the depths of anxiety or stress like many others did.

But, in recent times it seems as if you're experiencing life in a new manner. You've never been more uneased as you have in the past week. Even minutes before your matches were you never this stressed.

And the main reason for it all is Alessia. The only person in the world to cause you to feel things you normally wouldn't. A blessing and a curse.

Alessia wasn't acting like herself lately, a bit distant something she never was before. Alessia, by nature, was clingy. She clung onto you like a koala does a tree, cuddles, hugs, anything to make your bodies become one, she did. Which is why, her being so distant with you was concerning.

It's been a couple of days since her behavior shifted, at first you thought it was due to the rough start of the week, you were back in camp for your next fight thus your time with Alessia was shorten, she as well was dealing with some tension at work, none she was willing to elaborate.

You figured she needed some alone time to get through.

You tried to be there when she seeked you, yet she hardly did. And you didn't want to push her during a tender time, so you let her be until she was ready. Though, that didn't stop you from actively caring about her, little things such as making her breakfast, washing her uniform, nothing excessive in your mind. Still, Alessia appreciated it all.

Curiosity spiked when she began to wear long sleeves as if it were a second skin, typically you'd brush it off, thinking she hopped on some sort of fashion trend, but the summer heat had her drenched in sweat.

Your attempts to get her into your shirts-which she loved to steal and wear-was useless. Refusing constantly, Alessia stuck to her long-sleeves. You didn't push further, despite your worry each time she went out.

The electricity bill was off the charts that month in turn to keep her cool.

Your agitation heightened when Alessia started to spend more time in the guestroom, it was odd at first considering she rarely stepped foot in the room, in the two years you've lived there.

Guests sleeping over wasn't common therefore your guestroom remained unoccupied most of the time. Not anymore now that Alessia had taken the room for herself.

Aside from the guestroom, it appeared as if you were living alone. You were the only one occupying the common spaces, Alessia nowhere to be seen unless you looked for her. Eventually, your small time together doubled down to nil.

It pained you to see Alessia isolate herself, the last time she acted in such a way was when she was coping with body issues. An unpretty chapter in Alessia's life that none of you spoke about. To prevent a defense lock if confronted, you did whatever you could to build Alessia's self-love without addressing the matter upfront.

It was a bit difficult at first since Alessia's determination to avoid you persisted. You were limited to passing compliments, soft touches, and love letters that you laid in the middle of the bed for her to read when she got home.

Your brief time didn't stop you from showering your girl with the love that she needed and deserved.

The rough week passed and Alessia semi-returned to her normal state. She went back to stealing- your shirts, a more fitting attire for the summer- and her time in the guestroom lessened. She still retreated to the room here and there for an hour or two, nothing you were too worried about now that she seemed better.

Everything was going back to place that is up until, the festival incident.

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon, you and Alessia had gotten caught in the middle of a London festival. One you were aware of too late and thanks to your ignorance, Alessia faced the consequences.

You pushed through the busy festive, pulling Alessia by hand. Bodies pressed up against each other tight spaced, trumpets and cheers blaring in your ears. Rising temper balancing on the cliff's edge as you kept trying to find an escape route, the provoking factors placed you and Alessia on the brink of disaster.

You stood at a whopping six feet using the height advantage to look for an outlet, naive to the shifts in Alessia's breathing. Behind you, Alessia felt her mind and body going haywire.

She could feel her heart beating against her chest, head whipping side to side anxiously seeking for an out. Her throat closed up at the multiple touches on her, she shut her eyes to block out her surroundings but that only made it worse as she instinctively focused on her senses.

Alessia's eyes snapped open, feeling you tug on her. She instantly found your figure, taking her all to concentrate on you. Alessia internally struggled to not think about the prying flashbacks at the back of her mind.

It fought so hard to come forward, to torture her in broad daylight, but Alessia fought harder. She tried to pinpoint the difference between then and now.

The sun was the first she identified, the sun gave her clear view of everyone and everything around her, unlike the colored lights in the dark club. Then there was you. You were the major detail that differed to Alessia, you were there to protect and love her, that's all Alessia needed.

Yet, it didn't stop the strength draining from her body, replaced by what Alessia could distinguish as emptiness. It was in her best efforts to push down the vile feelings, but it was all in vain.

You stumbled back as you felt a cease in Alessia's step. You looked over your shoulder to see her head down, her form shaking like a madman. Without thinking, you closed the distance, calling out to her, but she made no sign that she heard you.

You lifted her head, eyes gaping when Alessia's red teary eyes made contact with yours. Less than a second, you wrapped Alessia in your arms, forcibly pulling her through the crowd, recklessly pushing people out of your way.

You sighed in relief as you and Alessia finally broke free of the bustling street ducking into a small alley. You leaned up against the building, Alessia sobbed into your neck as you settled her. Tears flowed nonstop, you ran your fingers through her hair, humming to tune out the festival's band.

"Can we go home please?"

Alessia looked up at you with her big blue puffy eyes, your heart broke. Your thumb wiped away the lone tear, pecking her forehead. The answer was a no-brainer, you pulled down your hood on Alessia's head, guiding her out the alley and to a taxi, keeping her as close as possible through it all.

For the next few days, you and Alessia isolated yourselves from the world. Alessia didn't want to speak further about it and as much you wanted to, you knew better than to push. You were just glad she wasn't shutting herself in the other room like before.

And Alessia hated it, she hated that you were walking on eggshells with her. She didn't want you to treat her as if she's fragile. Alessia's strong, she knew that she believed it, so why didn't she feel like it?

Instead, she felt suffocated. Alessia began to loathe herself because of it. The constant looks over her shoulder, checking her body as if bruises will appear, it's been two weeks and she can't move on.

A concern started to brew in Alessia's mind, she feared that your relationship may be the cost of her erratic paranoia.

In attempts to salvage or drag out the inevitable, Alessia spent more time with you, she no longer went on your daily walks, but rather to sit on the balcony for her daily fresh air. You didn't mind, she knew that you only went on those walks because Alessia suggested it first, couples' cardio she said.

In all her years, Alessia didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to save herself.

Too stuck in her head to feel Kyra poking her, the Australian entertained herself jabbing the mindless blonde. Giggling when Alessia didn't flinch at the dirty towel thrown at her face.

The younger picked up her water bottle spraying at Alessia, bursting out laughing when she screeched. "Kyra! Go away!" The mischievous player dodged the towel thrown back at her, running away before Alessia could do worse.

Alessia wiped the wetness with her shirt, thankful for Kyra unintentionally pulling her out of her prisoned thoughts. Leah patted the striker's shoulder, pitiful that Alessia had been chosen to be on the end of Kyra's pranks. "So, is the hound coming next week?" Alessia's lip twitched at your alias.

"What's next week?"

"You forgot? The sporting event remember, Jona told us two months ago."

Alessia racked her brain, trying to remember the said event. Then, it hit her, it was a small thing some organization was having to spread the word of football, gain some investors, nothing Alessia wanted to do with. She shook her head, tying up her laces. "I'll skip out. Not in the mood for socializing."

Leah gave her a look, "Mate, it's mandatory. You can't get out of it." Alessia groaned, her plans to laze around with you was a bust. Alessia liked the small bubble, you and her built in your time together, and she wasn't planning on leaving it so soon. But, it looks like she didn't have a choice.

"I'll ask her."

"Is there really a point to? We all know what she's going to say."

Alessia pushed Leah, the captain grinning cheekily at her, a teasing underlining in her words. Everyone who knew you and Alessia's relationship personally knew that you'd do anything she asked.

If Alessia wanted food from a place a town a way, best be known that you're driving all the way there. If she wanted a new car, you're taking her to the dealership within the next hour. In this case, you'd be attending before you were even made aware of it.

"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing...for now. We'll see you there, oh, and it's a white-themed dress code. So, tell the missus, no black. It's not a funeral." Alessia snorted, waving to Leah as she left the locker room. The drive home was about as peaceful as one can be after a long day at work.

Alessia pulled into the lot, funny enough, catching you as you stepped out of your car with a takeaway bag. She kissed you, your favorite way to be greeted by the love of your life.

You swung her gym bag over your shoulder. "What did you get?"

"A protein bowl from that Japanese restaurant down the street and your usual."

Alessia grinned, pecking you on the cheek. "You're the best." You hummed tiredly, holding the door open for her. "I have to speak to you about something." You perked, thinking that she would finally be open about what's happening these few weeks.

"There's this thing, me and the girls are attending. It's obligated that we go but on the bright side, we can bring a plus one. So, darling will you be my plus one?"

You deflated, disappointed but smiled nonetheless. Setting the bag aside, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I would love nothing more. Now, let's eat up. I'm starving."

"It also has an all-white attire. So, no digging deep in your closet for your black suits, darling."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn, mami!"

Alessia fought back a smile as you exclaimed loudly, she placed her hand in your reaching one, unable to fight a growing grin any further. She squealed as you spun her, her dress flowing in the air. "You look so good. Are you trying to put me to shame?"

Alessia rolled her eyes, slapping your chest, passing over to the mirror to put on the finishing touches to her outfit. "You flatter me too much." You looked at your girlfriend through the mirror, clearly offended by her words.

"If this is too much, then I'm not doing a good job. Because my girl deserves all the compliments in the world."

You rested on her shoulder, Alessia applied her red lipstick, in your mind she did it too slowly. "You do an excellent job, my love. I can promise you that." Alessia handed you her necklace, beaming at the sight. It wasn't just any necklace, but a 23-karat diamond necklace. One of its kind, personally designed for her.

You gifted to her on your first anniversary, a token that she belonged to you, an object of your love for her.

You clipped it, staring intently as she stroked the diamonds around her neck. Alessia's eyes flickered up to you, blushing, instantly recognizing the emotion swirling in your eyes. You bowed down to kiss upon it, your gloss sticking to her neck painting it with the outline of your lips.

Alessia tilted her head to the side, eyes closing in bliss. You pulled her closer by the waist, your fingertips resting on the zipper. Alessia pulled away when she felt the dress loosen around her, "We can't." You huffed at her breathless words, drooping your forehead on her uncovered back.

"Why? No one will notice us missing."

"Kim will. She'll have me running laps next practice."

You rezip up Alessia's dress, creating some needed distance. "We can't have that now, can we? Let's get going before I rip that dress off." You led her out of the flat, focusing on the numbers as the elevator went.

Internally fighting the urge to drag Alessia back to bed and have your way with her.

You grunted, feeling the hovers of Alessia's fingers dancing across your chest as she played with the buttons on your shirt. You wore a white pantsuit, two out of five unbuttoned, revealing your cleavage and dog-tag.

You looked too good, the longer Alessia studied you, the more regret bubbled in her stomach. She jumped at the elevator chime, you chuckled removing her hand from your chest, intertwining them. 

You opened the car door for her, bending down to match her height as she sat in the passenger seat. The proclaimed passenger princess. "You gone a little quiet, Less." She ignored you, texting whoever was on the other end of the line.

You mockingly pouted, "Don't be bratty with me, love. You're the one who didn't want to take one for the team and run laps." You chuckled at Alessia's silence, walking to the driver side.

You cleared your throat, sipping on a glass of bourbon. Classical music played while businesswomen and men spoke as if they'd do any actual work outside this meaningless gathering. You scanned the room; blinded by the bright white all around. Not an interesting thing in sight.

You concluded that white parties sucked, and parties hosted by old men sucked even more. Them and their greedy ass money, you grimaced as the cheap liquor coated your throat, their inability to buy a good brand irked you.

You hid away in the corner with Alessia and her team, hanging off Alessia's shoulder like a piece of meat. You had no business being there, other than being her eye candy.

Usually, you'd be talking to Katie about her newly collection of red cards that never seemed to stay consistent, but she was too busy sucking up to her girlfriend and there was no way you'll get in the middle of that.

You prepared yourself as your eyes caught Kyra walking over after being shooed off by Leah, the mischievous smirk on her lips let you know that she found her next target, you.

Kyra plopped beside you, instantly ambushing you. You smacked Kyra's prying hands, "Kyra down! Down Kyra!" The little tussle wasn't fair, you refused to remove your arm from Alessia, but even with one hand, you were stronger than Kyra.

The younger girl ignored your demands, continuing her attempts to wrangle your drink out of your possession and into her mouth. "Kyra! I'll buy you a fucking drink! For fuck sakes!" Immediately, like an obedient puppy, Kyra unlatched herself from you, hands intertwined in her lap as she smiled innocently at you.

You whispered your departure to Alessia, well aware that you were doing everyone a favor by taking Kya away. "Follow me, you brat." She trailed behind you, sticking her tongue out at Steph when the older Australian caught her shadowing you to the bar.

As you left with the little troublemaker, the atmosphere in the Arsenal corner became a little calmer. Alessia giggled At Vic's story, the Dutch dodging the slap Alessia delivered, poking fun when she missed.

Vic's laughter died down as her eyes caught on something or someone. Alessia of her own subsided, curiosity knocked on her chest as Vic's body language changed into something Alessia couldn't identify.

"Less, is that the guy from the pub a few weeks back? The one who-"

Vic couldn't bring herself to finish, the effect still remained with Alessia, it was evident to all the girls. Alessia slowly and surely began to act like herself again, but the Arsenal girls knew better. They knew better than what Alessia was leading on.

She squinted as if it would help her see better through the vast crowd, a few bodies shuffled to the side revealing the reason for her all her recent troubles.

London was a big city, the percentage of running into the same people is less than one. The world had to be playing some sick joke on Alessia, as though it wanted blood to be spilled tonight. Something Alessia's been terribly trying to avoid.

Warmth drained out her system, suddenly everything felt chilly yet sweat lingered near her hairline. Alessia struggled to allow oxygen into her lungs, head snapping left and right,desperate to find you.

Vic tried to calm her, speaking in hush tones to get Alessia's attention. But it was useless, Vic called Leah over. Despite yelling for Leah, the entire team heard the urgency in her voice.

They rushed over, huddling over Alessia's shaking figure. Leah kneeled, cupping Alessia's face in her hands, coaching her through her panic. "Less! Alessia! Breath! Mate, breath!"

You shoved Kyra when she blew in your ear, rubbing the ticklish feeling away, never have you met someone so fearless of you. Granted everyone knew you wouldn't hurt Kyra despite her annoying antics. "You little shit, I swear-"

"Are you that MMA fighter? The Bloodhound, right?"

Kyra snickered, you pursed your lips giving her a look, one that meant that you're little fued wasn't over. You turned to the man in suit, he looked like every man in the room...dull. Can no man dress to save their life?

"Yeah, what's up?"

Kyra peeked over your shoulder, wanting a look at who took your attention away from her. Dread, that's all Kyra felt at the sight of him. She couldn't forget him, the bastard that hurt her best friend, someone you didn't know existed until now.

Kyra was aware of Alessia's severe desire to keep what had happened at her birthday celebration a secret.

Steph and Caitlin practically drilled it in her mind, not to slip up when you were around. Kyra didn't expect to see him again, no one did. But, to have him up front and center talking to you freely after what he had done to Alessia, sickened Kyra.

The Aussie searched for her teammates, hoping to catch someone's eye to tell them of the presence of their number one hit list. And Kyra did, however, it wasn't as she had hoped. Laura frenetically waved her over, pointing to you urgently.

"Do you mind if we took a picture?"

Before you could answer, Kyra wasted no time, pulling you away in the direction of her team. You let Kyra do as she pleased, taking in her hurried steps and anxious expression to mind. "Kyra, what-"

"Yn!"

You rushed past those in your way, cupping Alessia's face in your hands. Deja vu hit you like a truck, red teary eyes staring deep into your soul. You placed her on your lap, coaxing her to take deeper breaths. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

You looked at the Arsenal women for answers, their troubled aura triggered the heap of anger lying underneath your skin. "What the hell happened?"

Some stared at you and Alessia with sorrow, others avoided your eyes, looking at literally anything else.

Out of everyone, the only person who had the galls to look you in the eyes was the captain herself. "Mate, it's not for us to say." Leah glanced over to Alessia, silently telling you that if you wanted answers it would have to come for her.

Leah loved Alessia like her own sister and she couldn't watch her be destroyed by what happened and as your friend, she couldn't allow you to suffer in the dark, clueless.

"Less?"

Alessia's refusal to meet your eyes remained, your jaw clenched. You loved her with all your being, but the anger brewing was too hot to handle. Everyone knew something you didn't, something regarding Alessia, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was serious.

"Alessia." Your voice stern, you were no longer allowing Alessia's excuses to fly over your head. Alessia shook her head, "Please. Please don't make me." Your heart clenched at her pleading, deep down you didn't want to pressure her, but she left you no choice.

"Alessia, what am I missing? What are they hiding? What are you hiding?"

Alessia looked at her friends for help, at the back of her mind, she knew they couldn't. But it was worth a try. Lia nods in encouragement, something so small but so powerful for Alessia.

She cradled your jaw, leaning in your ear, unwilling to see your murderous anger spiral to what she knows will end in crime scene.

The gunners observed as your face hardened, concern switched to rage in seconds. Your brows deepened, jaw and lip tight, what caught their attention was your clenched fists. Veins popped out from your arms to the back of your hand, knuckles ready to take some action.

Alessia pulled back, caressing your pale knuckles. Her lips moved but nothing was coming out of them. You couldn't hear her begging you to not do anything, you couldn't hear her tell you she loved you. You couldn't hear anything but your blood pumping in your ears.

You abruptly stood up, bringing Alessia up with you. You passed your fiance to the nearest person, Beth. "Get her out of here." You pecked Alessia's forehead, ignoring her calls for you to come back. You head to Katie, the sole person on the team who supported violence. "Where is he?"

Wordlessly, Katie pointed him out and what do you know? It's the same dude that asked you for a photo, you scoffed at the sheer audacity of men. You pushed past Katie, sidestepping Leah's hand.

You expertly navigated through the crowd, stalking up to him. Even at a distance, you could make out his figure, he was lean and scrawny, nowhere near your built physique.

You sized him up as you approached, just in time, he turned to notice you, overlooking the smoke coming out of your ears. "Hey! Back for that pic-" His words cut with a right hook to the cheek, and in no time, he dropped to the floor.

You climbed on top of him, balling his collar in your fist, the other delivering strike after strike.

The feeling of your knuckles connecting with his jaw was exhilarating, with every punch you imagine his bones cracking. You grunted as he fought against you, but he was weak.

The first blow was enough to knock him on his back, the countless you landed after offered multiple hospitalization conditions.

You yelled as you felt hands pulling you off. You shoved the random men off you, glaring them down as they took in your physical state. "Touch me again! I'll fuck all of you up!" You momentarily forgot that this was a sports event, the people surrounding you most likely knew who you were.

You watched recognition hit them now that you were in your true form. They heed your words standing back to let you do what you were trained to do. They couldn't save a man getting beaten, but they can definitely save themselves from you.

Huffing, you quickly grabbed the bleeding man by the throat, slamming him onto the bar. The sound of glass pierced everyone's ears, but you paid it no mind. Holding his upper body against the bar, smashing his face in.

You were aware that even your worst opponents didn't get this type of treatment, he was different. He touched your girl, he hurt her, and he was going to pay for it with his life. "Why did you touch her?! Huh?!" An answerless question, you didn't want an answer.

And it wasn't like you were going to get one, the amount of blood flooding his mouth limited him aside from his faint pleas for you to stop.

That only angered you further. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" You let him fall to the floor once again, neglecting the slippery coat on your hands.

Alessia watched from afar as you mounted the stagnant body, repeatedly bashing his face. Beth tried to drag her out of the venue, but Alessia's too stubborn.

You did so much critical damage in a short span period, even from where she stood Alessia could see the blood streaks on the bar and floor. Leah took off first, Katie, Stina, and Steph following behind.

They all knew that you weren't going to let up any time soon and if you weren't stopped now. You were actually going to commit homicide.

Leah and Katie hook their arm around you, yanking you off. "That's enough! He's down!" It was a struggle for the two, you were too strong for them. Steph eventually aided in holding you back, and Stina helped push you four towards the exit.

Alessia quickly ran after you, the rest of the gooners chasing behind, unable to fight the curiosity to check the result of your wrath. When they got outside, they were met with you kicking a poor trash can into the road.

The four that dragged you out stood a safe distance away. The street bustling with dim lights and occasionally passing cars.

Alessia joined the four girls, knowing better than to interfere in your fit of rage when it was at its peak. Alessia studied your new appearance, growing breathless.

Hair ruffled; shirt wrinkled...stained with red patched. It was what Alessia was afraid of, you covered in red. You had blood splattered across your face; blood handprints swiped across your neck, your fists being the most coated.

You rubbed your hands together as if you were moisturizing, the blood quickly drying due to the cold night air. You sighed, a bit calmer now, muttering nonsense to yourself as you paced up and down the sidewalk.

Alessia took it as her cue to walk over, none of the gunners tried to stop Alessia. Wise enough to know that you would never hurt Alessia even in a foot of rage. "Baby. Baby." Her voice was soft, not to startle you.

Your wide eyes darted to her, unexpected by her presence. You were too lost in your fury to be conscious of your surroundings.

She tried to reach for you, but you retreated, shaking your head. "I'm okay, darling. You won't hurt me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, Alessia tried once more, pleased when you didn't move away.

She grabbed your hands, inspecting the cuts on your knuckles, it was hard to see but Alessia managed to pick out the open wounds.

She ignored the blood on her hands, roughly pulling you into a hug. The weighing of all these weeks came crashing down on Alessia, relief flooded her. However that relief was cut short by the sound of sirens, "We have to go! Now!"

Alessia balled the bloodied clothes, throwing them in the trash, it consisted of your entire outfit along with her dress. Its beauty gone as soon as another color tainted it.

Alessia didn't want a reminder of what happened tonight, even though it represented the degree you'd go for her. You nearly beat a man to death for her, guilt tormented Alessia.

The last thing she wanted was for you to run into problems because of her, Alessia roused from her mind upon hearing the water ceasing. Alessia walked into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway.

You sat in the tub, steam rising from the water. You held out your hand, silently offering her to join.

Alessia didn't think twice before she began stripping from her undergarments. She hissed at the heat, lowering herself deeper into the water until it reached her collarbones. Alessia rested back into you, your arms wrapped around her nude waist, burying your face in her neck.

You two sat in silence, embraced by the steam and contents of the hot water. There were no words to explain tonight, Alessia wasn't going to scold you and you weren't going to apologize. You both knew that tonight was needed for both your sanity.

When you passed Alessia over to Beth, the separation that you placed between you and her signified that you were going to do something she wouldn't like. Your attempts to get her out were for her sake, not yours. You weren't keen on her seeing the monster you become.

"I love you, you know that?"

Alessia rested her head back as you peppered kisses on her skin, her eyes fluttered open staring right in yours. Eyes that held love, more than she's ever seen in her life. "I know."

Alessia didn't need to say those three magic words back, you knew, you always knew. What you need to know is that if she knew. If she knew that you loved her more than the world could imagine. 

[dreamersworldduh]

Omg hiii, firstly, I really like your two workss so far they're soooo good 😩. Hopefully, you continue writing, and secondly, I want to request for Dick grayson at one of those parties he has to attend with his friend that he liked for a while, and he sees reader getting hit on by a person he hates so he gets jealous, and he holds it for awhile till he couldn't anymore. If you can complete this, thank you for your time spent on my request. If not, it's completely fine. 🙏. Thank you for even reading my request. Keep up the good work, and have a good day/night!

JEALOUSLY, JEALOUSY

• Dick Grayson x Male!Reader

SUMMARY — Jealousy is an evil disease that most people deny having, but it can also be a great motivator if used properly.

WARNING! FLUFF. Suggestive Langauge.

WORDS! 3.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! Thank you so much for putting in your request! I appreciate you so so much—I hope you enjoy! 😚

The Titans' Tower was a beacon of light against the night sky, its glowing windows revealing the lively scene unfolding within. Inside, the air was charged with excitement, the kind of energy that came from heroes finally allowing themselves a moment of reprieve. The main hall was transformed into a party space, with colorful lights casting vibrant patterns across the walls, the music pulsing in time with the rhythm of the crowd.

You stood near the entrance for a moment, taking it all in. The sight was almost surreal—heroes you'd fought alongside, legends in their own right, were here in their most unguarded states. Starfire's radiant laughter rang out as she teased Beast Boy, who had just shapeshifted into a parrot to mimic her voice. Raven, ever the observer, sat in a corner nursing a drink, her normally stern expression softening as she watched the festivities. Even Cyborg, the tech genius of the team, was manning a makeshift DJ booth, nodding his head to the beat as he expertly transitioned between tracks.

You weren't used to seeing this side of them, but it was a welcome change. The Titans weren't just warriors—they were people, and tonight, they were letting themselves be exactly that.

When Dick Grayson—Nightwing himself—had invited you, you were a little surprised. Sure, the two of you had been close for a while, colleagues who had become genuine friends through countless missions. You'd spent hours fighting side by side, but more recently, you'd found yourselves sharing moments outside the chaos—grabbing coffee after a long night, cracking jokes about patrol mishaps, or just enjoying each other's company. Yet, an invitation to the Titans' private party felt personal, almost intimate.

As you stepped further into the room, the music grew louder, the bass vibrating through your chest. Dick wasn't hard to spot—he had that presence that naturally drew attention, even when he wasn't trying. Dressed in a simple black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, he moved through the crowd with an ease that was almost magnetic. His sharp blue eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a grin spread across his face.

"There you are," he said as he approached, his voice warm and familiar despite the music. "I was starting to think you weren't going to show."

"Miss a party at Titans' Tower? No way," you replied with a smirk. "Besides, you're the one who said I needed a break."

"And I was right," he said, nudging your arm playfully. "You deserve a night to relax. Just... don't let Beast Boy drag you into one of his dance-offs. He's surprisingly competitive."

You chuckled, already feeling more at ease. Dick had that effect on people—his presence was grounding, even in a room full of larger-than-life personalities. Before he could say more, someone called his name, and he gave you an apologetic smile.

"Duty calls," he said. "But stick around, okay? I'll find you later."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to explore the party. You grabbed a drink from the refreshment table—something fruity but deceptively strong—and started making your way through the room. Everywhere you turned, there were little snapshots of joy: heroes laughing, friends reconnecting, moments of normalcy in lives that were anything but.

It was in the middle of this whirlwind of activity that you found yourself drawn into conversation with Brandon, one of the Titans' newer members. His easygoing demeanor made him instantly likable, and you found yourself relaxing even more as you chatted about everything from patrol stories to how strange it was to see the team like this.

What you didn't notice, however, was the way Dick's gaze followed you from across the room. Standing near the edge of the crowd, he watched as you laughed at something Brandon said, the two of you leaning in closer to hear each other over the music. His smile from earlier had faded, replaced by a subtle but unmistakable tension in his expression.

For the first time in a long while, Dick Grayson felt something unfamiliar twist in his chest—jealousy.

Brandon was mid-story, his hands flying through the air as he described a mission that had apparently gone off the rails in the most chaotic way possible. His voice was animated, carrying over the music and noise of the party as he recounted the moment he had to leap from a collapsing rooftop to grab a fleeing criminal.

"And just as I'm mid-air," he said, his grin wide, "I'm thinking, 'If I miss, this is how they're going to write me off the team.' But somehow, I managed to grab the guy's ankle, and the two of us went tumbling into a dumpster. Starfire still hasn't let me live it down."

You couldn't help but laugh, the image of Brandon sprawled out in a dumpster vivid in your mind. His enthusiasm was contagious, and his self-deprecating humor made the story all the more enjoyable.

"What about you?" Brandon asked, leaning casually against the counter. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What's the craziest thing you've seen out there?"

You paused, your mind flipping through the mental catalogue of wild missions you'd been on. Finally, a grin tugged at your lips as you landed on one that stood out. "Okay, so there was this time I ended up dodging missiles while trying to stop a rogue drone. It was absolute chaos—explosions everywhere, smoke, the whole nine yards. And, of course, Dick was there, just doing his thing, making it all look effortless."

Brandon let out a low whistle, his eyebrows raising in mock disbelief. "Missiles and a rogue drone? That's next level. I swear, with him involved, it always sounds like a movie."

You chuckled, nodding. "It felt like one. But yeah, Dick's like that—calm under pressure, always two steps ahead. It's kind of ridiculous how good he is at this stuff."

Brandon grinned, leaning in slightly. "Must be cool, working so closely with someone like him. I bet you've picked up a thing or two."

You shrugged, a warm smile spreading across your face. "Yeah, it is. He's a good guy—one of the best. I've learned more from him than I ever thought possible."

As you spoke, you glanced over at Brandon, but your words brought Dick to the forefront of your mind. It wasn't just his skill you admired—it was his unwavering dedication, his ability to lead, and the way he always seemed to have your back no matter how dangerous things got. It was easy to talk about him, easy to share the respect and appreciation you'd built for him over the years.

Brandon nodded, clearly impressed. "I get that vibe. You two must make a hell of a team."

You smiled, raising your glass slightly. "We do."

Across the room, Dick leaned against the wall, his silhouette partially obscured by the shifting colored lights of the party. His sharp brown eyes, usually calm and calculating, were locked onto the two of you, his gaze unwavering. In one hand, he held a drink—something dark and untouched, the condensation dripping down the glass as it warmed against his grip. His free hand clenched at his side, the slight twitch of his fingers betraying the tension he was working hard to suppress.

You were laughing at something Brandon had said, your face lit up in a way that seemed to magnify the ease between the two of you. Brandon leaned closer, his posture open and relaxed, his confident smile suggesting he was thoroughly enjoying your attention. You leaned in as well, your head tilting slightly to catch his words over the pounding music, your body language unconsciously mirroring his. It was a small detail, but it didn't escape Dick's notice.

A knot twisted in his chest, sharp and unwelcome. He couldn't pinpoint the moment it had started—this feeling that clawed at him every time Brandon was near you—but tonight, it was undeniable. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, but his eyes betrayed him, darting back to you within seconds. He told himself it was nothing, that he was overreacting, but the rational part of his brain was no match for the jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

Dick had never liked Brandon, though he'd never said it aloud, not even to himself. He'd brushed it off as a clash of personalities, an instinctive distrust of the newcomer. But as he watched Brandon lean closer, his laugh carrying easily over the music, it became clear: it wasn't just Brandon. It was Brandon with you.

His usual composed demeanor was faltering, the effortless confidence he carried on and off the field slipping away as his emotions bubbled to the surface. His chest felt tight, his thoughts an uncharacteristic jumble. Was it jealousy? Frustration? The fear of something unspoken slipping out of his grasp?

The answer didn't matter, not in that moment. All that mattered was the impulse driving him forward. Before he realized it, his body was already in motion, his steps purposeful and direct. Each stride carried the weight of his emotions, the tension in his shoulders palpable. He weaved through the crowd without so much as a glance at anyone else, his focus entirely on you.

Dick didn't have a plan, no rehearsed words or carefully crafted excuses. All he knew was that he couldn't stand there any longer, watching you laugh with someone else, seeing the effortless connection that wasn't with him. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say when he reached you—all he knew was that he had to do something. Anything.

The music and laughter of the party hummed around you, a lively backdrop to your conversation with Brandon. You were mid-sentence, describing one of your wilder missions, when a familiar voice cut through the noise like a blade.

"Hey," Dick said, his tone even, but carrying an unmistakable edge.

You turned, surprised to see him standing there. He was close—closer than usual—his sharp brown eyes flicking briefly to Brandon before settling on you. His presence seemed to suck the air out of the space, a silent tension rolling off him in waves.

"Mind if I borrow him for a second?" Dick continued, though it wasn't really a question.

Brandon blinked, clearly caught off guard. His usual easy grin faltered for a moment as he looked between you and Dick, before offering a hesitant nod. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Go ahead."

"Dick, what—?" you began, but before you could finish, Dick placed a firm hand on your shoulder and started steering you away. His grip wasn't rough, but it was unyielding, his fingers curling just enough to make it clear this wasn't up for discussion.

You glanced back at Brandon, who shrugged and turned to mingle with someone else, his confusion evident. Meanwhile, Dick's hand remained on your shoulder, guiding you through the crowd and toward the staircase.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and growing irritation.

Dick didn't answer. He stayed silent, his jaw tight, his pace quick. His grip on your shoulder tightened slightly as you reached the stairs, and he led you upward, away from the noise and light of the party. The music and chatter faded with each step, replaced by the steady hum of the tower's systems.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, his normally composed demeanor slipping with every second. It wasn't like him to act this way—so abrupt, so on edge.

When you reached a quiet hallway, you finally pulled free of his grip, stopping in your tracks. "Dick, what the hell?" you snapped, your confusion now mingled with frustration. "What's going on with you tonight?"

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. His shoulders were rigid, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he were struggling to find the right words. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off, make some excuse and leave you wondering.

But then his expression softened—just slightly—and he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. His piercing gaze searched yours, as though he were looking for something, some unspoken reassurance.

"I couldn't take it anymore," he muttered, his voice low and raw, almost like he was speaking to himself.

You frowned, still not understanding. "Take what? Dick, you're not making any sense."

For a second, he hesitated, his breath hitching as if he was caught between moving forward or retreating. Then, as though something inside him snapped, he closed the distance between you in one fluid motion.

His hands came up, gripping your face with a kind of desperate urgency. Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours. It wasn't tentative or uncertain—it was firm, almost overwhelming, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt.

You froze, your mind racing to catch up with what was happening. The feel of his lips against yours, the heat of his hands holding you in place—it all hit you at once, a wave of intensity that left you breathless. There was a weight behind it, a frustration, a longing that spoke of something he'd been holding back for far too long.

The hallway seemed to shrink around you, the hum of the tower fading into nothing. All that remained was him, the kiss, and the unspoken emotions that seemed to pour out in that single moment.

When Dick finally pulled back, his forehead gently rested against yours, his breath ragged and uneven. The heat of his hands lingered on your face, his thumbs barely brushing your jawline as if he couldn't bring himself to let go entirely. His eyes were closed for a moment, and when he opened them, they burned with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

"I couldn't stand seeing you with him," he admitted, his voice low, raw, and unsteady in a way you'd never heard before. It wasn't anger or frustration—it was something deeper, something vulnerable. "I've been trying to ignore it for so long, but I can't anymore. I like you—more than a friend. I needed you to know."

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged, as if the world itself had paused for this one moment. Your heart was pounding, each beat louder in your ears than the faint hum of the tower around you. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath your feet, your balance precarious in the wake of his confession.

You stared at him, trying to process what had just happened—the kiss, the weight of his words, the raw emotion in his eyes. All the nights you'd spent together came flooding back to you. Fighting side by side in the field, your movements always in sync. Late nights eating takeout, his laughter echoing in your ears as you shared stories. Quiet moments after missions, when he'd patch you up with a care and focus that seemed almost too much for a friend. All of it suddenly took on a new meaning, the threads weaving together into something you hadn't allowed yourself to see before now.

"Dick..." you began, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, your chest tight with the weight of everything you wanted to say. But before you could get the words out, he shook his head, his forehead still pressed against yours.

"I get it if you don't feel the same," he said quickly, his voice filled with quiet resignation. His hands dropped slowly from your face, as if letting go was physically painful. "I just... I couldn't keep it in anymore. Not after tonight. Not after seeing—" He cut himself off, shaking his head again, as if the thought alone was too much. "You don't have to say anything. I just needed you to know."

You stared at him, the man who had been by your side through thick and thin, who had earned your trust in ways few ever had. And for the first time, you saw something behind the confidence and control he always carried—a vulnerability, raw and unguarded. The man who was always so composed, so unshakable, was standing in front of you now, his emotions laid bare.

He wasn't Nightwing in this moment, the hero who always had a plan and a backup plan. He was just Dick—a man who had taken a risk, who had laid his heart on the line for you. And in that moment, as you saw him so clearly for the first time, something inside you shifted.

You stood frozen, your thoughts spiraling as Dick's words echoed in your mind. Your longest, closest friend—someone who had been by your side through countless battles, sleepless nights, and quiet moments—had just confessed feelings you had never seen coming. It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsure of how to regain your footing.

Your breathing was shallow, your chest tight as you replayed his confession in your mind. "I couldn't stand seeing you with him. I've been trying to ignore it for so long, but I can't anymore." The rawness in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes—it was all so unlike the Dick Grayson you knew, the man who always seemed so steady, so composed.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. How could they? This was Dick—your partner in the field, your confidant, your constant. The person who had always been there, who had stitched you up after injuries and made you laugh when things felt too heavy. And now he was looking at you, his heart laid bare, waiting for a response you weren't sure how to give.

Your mind raced through the years you'd known him. The late-night missions, the quiet moments after a battle, the inside jokes only the two of you understood. You'd always thought of him as your rock, the person you could count on no matter what. And now, he was telling you that he saw you as something more—had seen you as something more for a long time.

The weight of his confession pressed down on you. This wasn't just a casual admission—it was the culmination of something deep, something that had clearly been building within him for years. The thought hit you like a freight train: while you'd been leaning on him as a friend, he'd been feeling this all along. How had you missed it?

Dick's expression was impossible to read now. He was standing there, his forehead no longer resting against yours, his hands hovering by his sides like he wasn't sure whether to reach for you or step back. His eyes, normally so guarded, were wide and searching, as if trying to gauge what you were thinking.

But you didn't know what to think. You didn't know how to react. Part of you wanted to speak, to reassure him, to tell him that this didn't change anything—but that would be a lie, wouldn't it? Because everything had already changed.

Before you could fully register what you were doing, instinct took over. Your mind was still spinning from Dick's confession, from the raw vulnerability in his voice, from the way his hands had trembled ever so slightly when he let you go—as if he'd already braced himself for rejection.

But you couldn't let him walk away—not like this. Not when your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from your chest.

In one swift motion, you closed the space between you, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The material was soft but sturdy beneath your grip, grounding you in the moment as you tugged him toward you with a sudden urgency that surprised even yourself.

Dick's eyes widened, his breath hitching, but he barely had a second to react before your lips met his. The kiss was fierce, intense—a collision of bottled-up emotions finally set free. Your fingers clenched tighter in his shirt, pulling him closer as if you were afraid he might vanish if you let go.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away—the distant hum of the tower's systems, the muffled bass of the music still thumping from the party below—it all dissolved into nothingness. There was only him, only the warmth of his mouth against yours, only the heat of his hands finding your waist and holding on like he'd been waiting for this as long as you had.

Dick let out a sharp breath against your lips, a sound caught somewhere between relief and longing. His arms wrapped around you fully now, one hand sliding up your back, the other cupping the side of your face like he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go again.

The kiss deepened, fueled by everything unspoken between you—years of trust, shared danger, late-night talks, and quiet moments when words had never been enough. Every suppressed feeling, every glance that had lingered too long, every touch that had meant more than it should—everything finally broke free.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your foreheads rested together, your fingers still clutching the front of his shirt like a lifeline. Dick's eyes were half-lidded, dark with emotion, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours.

"...Quite the confession, Grayson," you voiced, your voice low and shaky.

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across Dick's face, softening the sharp intensity of his expression. His thumb brushed your cheek gently, almost reverently. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that."

His words sent warmth flooding through your chest, and before you could respond, his lips found yours again—not desperate this time, but sure and steady, like he was memorizing the way you felt in his arms. This time, there was no hesitation, no fear—only certainty.

[concreteangel92]

Noah With A Witch Girlfriend

Noah Sebastian x female reader

Warnings: none, all fluff

A/N: so I wanted to do something a bit different to what I’ve seen on here before and I thought a headcanon about Noah having a partner who practices witchcraft was such an interesting concept due to his upbringing and it’s also something very close to my heart haha hope you all enjoy 🖤

Masterlist

•although Noah was never a believer in witchcraft, he was open to learn from you as to why you do it and what it was all about

•would definitely find it fascinating comparing it to religion and seeing the similarities (of course you’ll tell him that it all comes from the pagans)

•loves watching your eyes light up when you talk about it

•Noah would soon have a new found respect for magic and its history

•but he will definitely crack the odd joke here or there but means no harm with them

• “you going to curse me if I piss you off?”

• “don’t tempt me”

•when you tell him that you work with your spirit guides/angels/universe (or whatever you prefer to call them) you know he’ll be making jokes like “so if I work with you, does that make you my angel?”

•corny jokes aside, you know he’s only teasing you

•he would soon perk up when you tell him that sex can be very powerful in spell work

•he’d be more then willing to help, I mean, what are good boyfriends for right? 😏

•if you gave him a tarot reading and it came true, of course he’ll try and find a logical explanation first

•Noah would also do that when any of your spells have worked, but you can definitely see the shock in his eyes at the outcome for whatever spell you’ve done

•he’d love to watch you work at your alter and loves how it looks and how personal it is for you

•would definitely buy you gifts and crystals, etc for your alter

•after some time he may even be inclined to join you in some of your work

•he’ll offer to cleanse the house for you to show that he’s learning

•he would definitely join you for meditation or your ritual baths to cleanse your energy/aura

•if it’s important to you, it’s important to him

•gets defensive at people who may laugh or make fun of you for doing it

•he will always have your back, no matter what

•I have no doubt you’d catch him reading some of your books, man loves to read and learn, this would be no different

•would also love the personal gifts you give him such as protection jars, crystals, amulets to ward off the evil eye, etc

•“Babe, why do we have so many empty jars in this cupboard, are they to be thrown?”

•“Leave them be!”

•Noah soon learns that a witch never throws good jars out

•in time Noah would ask you for certain spells for luck with the band or a project he’s working on

• “can’t hurt to have the extra luck right?”

•and you never know, you may just make a believer out of him yet ✨

[myokk]

The Babbit siblings, Leonard & Eloise 🫶

Info about their dynamics/more about Leo:

This is also super dramatic😆 idk what sort of mood I was in when I made all of this up🙏

He’s one year older than Eloise. Ever since she was born, he’s been fiercely protective of her and loves her so much. His first year at Hogwarts, he kept sending her long letters about how amazing it was and how he was excited to show her everything the following year (even though it was all but assumed she was a squib, he still believed she would show magic & be admitted). Leonard was going to be such a proud big brother😭😭 not embarrassed about her at all but showing her off etc😭😭😭😭 The summer after his first year was the worst of his life. It was the summer Eloise was exiled from their family….he witnessed the whole thing…their mom completely lost it (á la Bellatrix) and would have killed Eloise if their father hadn’t intervened on time (but their father had watched and let it get to that point😔). Leo was left alone with a dying little sister and he didn’t know how to help her….he’d only JUST finished his first year of Hogwarts…and then she was taken away and their parents pretended like she had never existed. He had to as well…what else could a 12-year-old who’d been taught by birth to obey his parents do??

(it was IMPOSSIBLE to forget her…and yet he had to try bc the parents are really manipulative and emotionally abusive…and he was always raised to be the perfect son) And then when he returned to Hogwarts…he saw two twins who were also quiet and reminded him a lot of his sister. Their parents had just died and he kind of put his energy that he had been going to use to show Eloise everything etc into them and he became really close with them & Ominis. He and Ominis were also close because they have some experiences in common & honestly at the end of the day there isn’t that much difference in their ages) But then…after Anne was cursed Leo was DEVASTATED. He was going to lose another girl who was like a sister to him….bc of his parents he had never told them about Eloise (nobody except their family knew about her existence) and so he and Sebastian got into a HUGE fight. Because Sebastian had never heard of Eloise, when he saw that Leo was just as devastated as HE was… there was just no way that Leo could understand what he was going through, and Leo had no right to be affected as much as HE WAS😤

Like the dumb teenage boys they are, they couldn’t deal with their big emotions (Leo is also a lot like Eloise in that aspect probably bc of their parents…pushing away any uncomfortable emotions instead of dealing with them, until it builds and builds and he just explodes when they’re too much) and he and Sebastian took it out on each other and instead of talking they had a duel that almost killed each other😤😭😤😭 ever since then they’ve hated each other with a passion.

Pffffffff Eloise had no idea….she was really getting along with Sebastian but also wasn’t saying her last name at all and so the two of them had already started to kind of be friends before Sebastian found out that she was LEO’S SISTER😫😤😤 then he hated her too!! Bc he thought that she was in with her brother and they had worked together to TRICK HIM like a little evil inside joke…playing with Sebastian and his emotions like the previous yesr😔😔😔 (Obviously wasn’t the case, Sebastian just jumps to conclusions without thinking which is ALSO what happened when he and Leo had their huge fight😤)

But yeah now that Eloise is back Leo doesn’t know what to do….he recognized her immediately when she walked in the Great Hall to be sorted…🤯🤯 but he isn’t good with feeling emotions and neither is she and neither of them know how to recreate the close relationship they had as children😫😫

Leo is serious, quiet, bad with emotions, but when he lets someone in they are a part of his life forever (yes even Sebastian the dumbass)

Some excerpts from my fic that involve Leo 💓 it’s Eloise/Sebastian alternating POV, so this is all Eloise’s perspective:

“Leo had changed since Eloise last saw him. Of course he had, she thought to herself. It had been five years, after all. The same unruly black curls, same eyes. And yet…he almost seemed a stranger to her. He was taller, face more angular and defined than it had been at thirteen. Voice deeper. But, the expression of vulnerability and guilt written all over his face was something she recognized well. It was the same expression that he had the last time he saw her, the face she sometimes saw before falling asleep. Just as quickly as it flashed across his face however, it was gone, hidden behind a stony exterior. His expression hardened and he sat down just as quickly as he had stood up, averting his eyes. The students sitting around him were looking between the two of them curiously but before Eloise could begin to process this new situation, she felt a gentle push on her shoulder.”

“Her relationship with her brother had always had an undercurrent of fear running through it. No matter how hard she tried as a child, there was always something she had done wrong, and Leo was always there to protect her. Or try to, anyway. The two of them had always lived under the shadow of their parents’ abuse and didn’t know any other way of relating to each other.

But here, with Anne, Leo was murmuring apologies into her hair as she cried, reassuring and comforting her in a way he had never been able to with his own sister.

Eloise felt sick. Sick at seeing them, sick at her own jealousy. Had Leo replaced her with Anne - that year when Eloise was supposed to join Hogwarts - to try and cover the bitter disappointment of not being able to proudly show off his younger sister? They had spent so many nights that summer before her Hogwarts letter never came, sneaking out to the garden late at night, Leo reassuring her that she would be fine and telling her about all of the magic and wonder at Hogwarts that was waiting for her. He promised her that she could sit with him on the train, that he wouldn’t be embarrassed by her.

And then…

Turning away from the two of them, Eloise headed towards the apples. She hated the emotions roiling around inside of her. She should be happy. She had saved Anne, and now things were going to go back to normal, how they were before she arrived. Eloise trailed her hand on the back of the couch, trying to focus on the feeling of soft velvet, calm her racing emotions.”

If you read all of this….You’re amazing & I love you🥹💓🥹💓 tbh I have MORE about the two of them & their family, but this was already getting so long😵‍💫

[fuckyeah-bears]

Genuine question. What was it about Hamas breaking into homes, doing war crimes, killing civilians, raping women, killing and possibly beheading babies made y'all break your "no politics" rule to post support about it?

Condemning one side for genocide while ignoring the other side chanting "gas the Jews" is a special kind of irony.

i don't have the energy to respond to this right now. i never once said i approved of or condoned hamas. hamas is a terror organization and any and all killing of human beings is wrong. however you are listening to propaganda. most of the sensationalized headlines about hamas, specifically the beheading one have all been proven to be fake and have literally no evidence. hamas does not represent the palestinian people or the people of gaza. and yet the genocidal israeli government has decided to indiscriminately punnish all 2.1 million people living in gaza for the horrific actions of hamas. this is called collective punishment and it is literally defined as a war crime. gaza's population is 50% children. gaza is the world's largest concentration camp and open air prison. it has been under military blockade for the past 16 years. israel controls the food water electricity fuel movement of people and everything else going in and out of gaza.

this is a walled off open air prison that is extremely densely populated, extremely poor, and full of children. and israel is depriving the entire population of food, clean water, electricity, and carpet bombing them, using banned illegal chemical weapons, refusing to allow in humanitarian aid. they have bombed hospitals, bombed residential buildings, bombed people fleeing after israel told them to evacuate (but joke was on them because they can't evacute since there's no where to go because israel controls all the check points and refuses to let palestinians out, instead trapping them in gaza while there's still no electricity or water or food or any other supplies coming in.

and then don't even get me started on the propaganda israel has been using to demonize and dehumanize palestinians. the defense minister literally called all palestinians "human animals" and said israel would treat them as such. top government officials have released images depicting palestinians as cockroaches and insects needing to be exterminated. they have referred to all gazan's as terrorists to justify their massacre of them.

this is fucking genocide. this is exactly what the nazi's did to jewish people. this is genocide. this is genocide. this is genocide. i have not heard a single palestinian person directing hatred at jewish people. (which is not to say that there has been no antisemitism going on, because there absolutely has, and I wholeheartedly despise it). however i have heard them criticize the israeli government for its depravity and cruelty and literal fucking war crimes it is gleefully committing.

criticizing israel for committing genocide is not antisemetic. criticizing a government for doing horrific evil highly illegal things against international law and against literally all moral humanity and human decency is not antisemetic. it is literally the morally right thing to do. what israel is doing is evil.

there are jewish people who agree wholeheartedly that israel's illegal occupation of palestine and their apartheid and ethnic cleansing are horrific. because they are.

and don't talk about irony. israel is the biggest fucking hypocrite in the entire fucking world. surviving a genocide does not give you the fucking right to perpetrate another genocide. but here israel is. and despite everything they do, they somehow always always play the victim despite the fact that they are the oppressor. israel will always say that any criticism of them and their actions is antisemetic. when in fact, it is entirely justified criticism of a deeply awful and morally bankrupt governnment that is and has been perpetrating heinous atrocities against the people of palestine for decades.

israel gives all jewish people a bad name. because real jewish people know that genocide is never okay. real jewish people know that israel's actions against palestinians are horrific and in no way justified. real jewish people stand with palestinians and support a free palestine.

all this and more is why it is the morally correct thing to do to support palestine and take a stand agains israel

and because you asked, the reason i'm breaking the 'no politics' rule is because of the responses from people like you. so many people have bought into israel's propaganda and their dehumanization of palestinians. there is so much islamophobia that any time people hear a single critique of israel, they jump in to condemn hamas and say 'oh so you support hamas' 'what about hamas' 'so you approve of people wanting to kill jews', demonstrating the insane racist mental gymnastics they are doing by literally mentally equating all palestinians with terrorists who deserve to be killed. and this is so widespread. people and all the world governments are sitting back and watching as this happens without lifting a goddamn fucking finger. with ukraine and russia, everyone jumped in to defend ukraine and support them and condemn russia. immediately. but it's radio fucking silence for palestinne. because of racism and islamophobia and because people are too cowardly to take a stand and risk pissing off all the masses of misinformed racist islamophobic biased people who support israel. and not only are people not fucking talking about it (or only talking about poor innocent israel and their right to 'defend themselves' which is the biggest fucking load of shit ever), almost all of our governments are actively funding israel's military. the very same fucking military that is literally committing a genocide right now.

if you're not horrified by all of this, then you are not a human being. if you do not stand with palestinians as israel blatantly to tries to annihilate them, then you do not have an ounce of humanity left in your soul.

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

[eeldritchblast]

Thoughts on Halsin

I want to preface this by saying I don't have anything particularly against Halsin as he is in game. But I do find him lacking in depth, when compared to everyone else.

Even without knowing that he was added as a full companion last minute, I would probably have guessed as much simply because there's not much to him beyond the role he plays in the Shadow-Curse quest of Act 2. This is lampshaded with dialogue about how he himself feels consumed by his determination to end the curse. But to me, that just feels like a cop-out. Imagine any other character looking at the camera and just saying "yeah I know I don't have much character beyond what happens to me in the plot, too bad?"

But I think the worst crime about his lack of development, is the fact that because he doesn't have a lot else going on, he feels a little overly sexualized to me; like he's just there for the player to thirst after because he's this big, bulky man. Now, to be clear, I don't care that he's horny, and I definitely don't care that he's poly. (My GF is a poly lesbian, and honestly I could see myself having more than one romantic relationship , too, if someone else was ever interested in me like that and cool with it.) What I'm trying to say is, because he's lacking in other areas, leaving those traits being of his few you can list, it makes them feel of less value, and makes him feel more like a sex prop. And if you're gonna have a character with rape victim as part of his background like Halsin has, then that's the last thing you want, I think.

So, what more could be done with Halsin?

I once made a joke that someone should draw Halsin in a "Big Auntie Energy" shirt. For those of you who aren't Native, let me try to translate: In most if not all Indigenous Nations, we often call women who are champions of our cultures and communities "Auntie", whether they are actually literally your aunt or not. An Auntie is someone you dearly love, and trust to guide you. Halsin already plays something of a mentor figure to the protagonist—indeed, dev notes even call him "avuncular"—so why not lean into it further by showing what he does for others, too? Pretending that there was more development time allotted, here's what I would've liked to see...

"This place crawls with life, but little of it flourishes. I see refugees, unhoused. The destitute, unwanted. Orphans, unloved. … I wish there was a better way. I wish everyone could see the sun, have a full belly, and know nature as a friend. There is a balance that is yet to be found." —Halsin

After ending the Shadow-Curse, Halsin says he needs to find a new purpose. I feel like his purpose could easily align with his horror of the inequalities of Baldur's Gate. Instead of just talking about how awful it is, why not allow the player to challenge him to try and change things, then? For example, I like to imagine Halsin telling stories to the orphans in Rivington, providing them comfort and someone to look up to. Or another example: Halsin helping out in or maybe starting some kind of charity meal program. It's small, but it's enough to say that he could actually grow a little as a person within the game's story. And it would add at least a little bit of engagement on the player's end as well, instead of feeling like the relationship with Halsin, platonically, is one-sided.

This all doesn't come from nowhere, by the way. If you exclusively romance Halsin, he says goodbye to the player in the end because he is leading a group of people into Thaniel's realm to start a new life. But personally, I feel like this is too great a leap back into an Archdruid role he specifically rejected, because he didn't like it. It also would've been nice to get this kind of dialogue without having to romance him; to know what lies ahead for Halsin as a friend, too.

Now, that's the good ending. But almost all the companions in BG3 have a "good" and "evil" ending. I feel like this really adds a lot of insight into the characters, because they feel real through it; we all have the potential to make good and bad choices, after all. So what could be Halsin's evil-aligned ending? Well, remember when he questions if the Shadow Druids actually have a point? How about giving the player the opportunity to push him further down that path instead... Shadow Druid Halsin, holy shit.

Now, there's one more thing I want to circle back to: Halsin's past. He very casually speaks of his time as a captive in the Underdark. And maybe it was so long ago that he's long dealt with such trauma, but still, I really wish there was a way to say "hey bud, that's really fucked up and I'm sorry that happened to you." But there's not a single dialogue option that allows you to express sympathy, besides just saying "that's awful", which doesn't cut it. Halsin himself says, "sometimes I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." Not allowing the player to be sensitive to his feelings goes exactly against this message not to judge a person's emotions by physical appearances.

Anyway, Halsin is a character that I think has a lot of potential, but doesn't quite reach it in game. I think it's great that he was given a bigger role due to popularity, but I just wish that role was expanded on to the same degree as the other companions.

[necroflaww]

Ghost Headcanons!!

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, I've been sick lately with COVID and recently had a lack of motivation but here's some headcanons about the Papas and the Ghouls that I had written down!

Headcanons of Ghost because I've been in the fandom long enough and I feel like if I say my Mouthwashing headcanons in my other server, I'd get beheaded for having an opinion or something. And because I've held onto these for such a long time.

PAPA'S

- It's obvious that Nihil was a bit of man whore, I'm pretty sure that Secondo and Terzo have different mother's but the same dad. Copia is Seestor's baby boy, and I'm surprised not many people noticed it earlier especially when Tobias' mask for Copia got a nose job and his nose looked just like her's. I feel like Copia was probably babied growing up and was tried to be kept from the Ministry until he got older, mostly because of Seestor being afraid of how things would end for Copia.

- Primo, I'm pretty sure it was confirmed by Tobias, is about 80 years old. I think possibly that Primo is Nihil's brother. Mostly because of age. Primo probably helped take care of Secondo and Terzo whenever Nihil was being a deadbeat, but that's a maybe because Primo was more as seen as the "evil" one and he did say he would throw a brick at a panda's face for money in a interview for a magazine.

- Secondo and Terzo probably make fun of Nihil, more like a father-son bond of just picking on eachother.

- Most people think Terzo is more flamboyant than other's but I feel like from what I've seen in old interviews, he's actually more reserved than his on stage persona. I feel like he prefers to remain quiet, keeps not as much contact with the Ghouls unless needed.

- A small one that I kinda just came up with, Copia secretly smokes when Seestor isn't around because he is afraid he'd get in trouble if she saw. It started off as a joke in Chapter 12: Ghost Goes Hollywood. Then he started to do it more the more stressed he would start to get.

Ghouls

- They roam the Ministry late at night. They prefer to be nocturnal to avoid being seen in daylight. This usually ends up scared the shit out of Copia on late nights when he hears them up.

- Ghouls are more animalistic. They have three different forms. Humanoid, the most commonly seen and can often be uncomfortable for them to be on in stage which is why sometimes the Ghouls would be "feral" on stage which has been seen in many clips. Their "feral" stage, which is a more animalistic form they take on. Think of them as big, elemental demon cats that can either be very angry or very clingy. They tend not to talk much or be vocal. They would communicate with huffs, growls, purrs, or clicks (kinda like Predator). Then the most least common form, which is only seen when first summoned, is elemental. Each Ghoul is usually assigned with a element. Like Mountain is Earth, Cumulus is sky, so on forth. When Ghouls are first summoned, they are pure, raw, elemental energy that needs to be tamed over time.

- When they get angry, their elemental form can slowly peek out. Example, fire Ghouls would get hot and breathe smoke. I really haven't put much thought into the other elements yet but I know I want to come up with ideas for them later on.

- Ghouls live a long time. Even some of Nihil's Ghouls still roams the Ministry, but the newer, younger Ghouls know to stay away from them just in case. The oldest of the most recent era is Mountain. When asked about his age, the response is usually "just an age."

- Another thing I thought of is if they find a partner, they stay partners with them for life. If the partner does die, the other will not move on to a new one and will mourn for sometimes years by hiding away. Each element of Ghoul have a different custom for doing things. Either by mourning, celebrating a new life, or partner rituals.

[s2pdoktopus]

Since I have been rambling here a lot I will also ramble about my dear mdzs children

So these four are made because I joked about populating the female species in MDZS and then I made more...

Disclaimer: I am not Chinese so these names are very much like when Anime grabs random names for English characters. They don't make sense.

First RongQuan

I completely forgot what Chinese characters I grabbed for her name (something that means melting, I think?

The design idea for her is that of a simple looking woman

She became a disciple because she wanted to and her father loves her very much he used his family ties to get her in. Upon entering, it became very clear that he has absolutely no talent for cultivation. This, and the well known fact that she's here because nepotism, made her the subject of many disciples' teasing. To compensate for her lack of talent she became a push over, doing many menial tasks to contribute to the sect. She's too tired to feel mad about the treatment most of the time.

Post-canon:

She's doing the same thing she's always done. Her mother fears that being involved with a sect riddled with so much scandal might ruin her marriage prospects. She thought about agreeing with her mother for a solid minute but ultimately decided that if men can't handle being involved with her as a Jin disciple, they can't handle her at all and politely rejected to do as her mother asked.

Lan FeiRi

I also completely forgot what her name's Chinese characters are. (One of them is the character for sun, I think)

Her design idea is that of a fairy, I tried to make her hair have the silhouette of a butterfly for this. It's also why I chose something that would spell FeiRi lol

She is a child orphaned by a demonic cultivator and adopted by a Lan couple. She cultivated a little late so her cultivation isn't as good as it could've been but she's average on power, overall. She exudes nearly the same tranquil energy as Lan XiChen. This is just a facade though, she absolutely loves it when people she deems evil get the justice she thinks they deserve, she can be sadistic. The ultimate two-faced individual, she could be smiling on the outside but seething on the inside, caring on the outside but laughing out in joy over others' suffering on the inside.

Post canon:

She absolutely hates that the grandmaster of demonic cultivation is living just a few minutes away.

(she has one of my favorite designs among the mdzs ocs I made)

Nie QiaoLu

Again, I forgot what her name means.

I designed her last. I didn't know if my designs are outrageous already so this is me dialing back down. But she looked too simple with straight hair so I made it wavy.

She is the strongest female cultivator in her age group, She is a distant relative of Nie Huaisang. She used to be a quick-tempered child but when the reality of the Nie cultivation sunk in, she sought to find a way to minimize the possibility of qi deviation. Instead of finding some new techniques she found Hanguang Jun. She thought, surely, by imitating him she will be less susceptible to qi deviations and so she went ahead and lived her life with such belief. As if the natural consequence trying to imitate one of the twin jades, her social skills were stunted and she is disconnected from her emotions.

Post canon:

She came back to rejoin society and the first thing she heard was Hanguang Jun's recent marriage. Her reaction was, "Oh. Congratulations to him, I guess?" She's still unaware of the things happening around her. Someone needs to anchor her to the ground. (Her head is so empty she might just float away, never to be seen again...)

Ok. The Jiang kids I made plenty of first of all:

Yu Lilai

I do remember that her name is supposed to mean "beautiful future".

Lilai already has a whole post explaining her. She is my favorite to use of the bunch in the silly comic stuff I made because there's no stake in her. She's the kind of gag character you will see in an anime who has an eccentric yet loving and supportive family.

She's also my favorite of the bunch :3

I have no height chart for these kiddos anymore

Jiang Lian

Jiang RenJi (courtesy name)

His given name means "to unite" and the courtesy name means "sturdy foundation"

He is a distant relative of the main Jiang family. His great great grandmother left the sect to live a civilian life away from Yunmeng. He reentered the Jiang sect when he was eight because he heard about Jiang Cheng's story and felt really bad for him. He wanted to help rebuild his ancestral home.

He is the responsible and ever-so-reliable Shixiong! He is the guard dog to the sheeps that are the baby disciples. Though he lacks Lilai's talent in combat or XinXue's silver tongue, he is the person the baby disciples trust the most. A sturdy leader, fitting his name.

Xiao XinXue

You know how Wei Wuxian is abbreviated to WWX and Jiang Cheng is JC? Yeah. XinXue's name is just so it can be abbreviated to XXX. XinXue name means "new blood" I forgot what Xiao is supposed to mean though.

Her family was killed by demonic cultivators and Jiang Cheng saved her. She is also the first orphan the Jiang sect save whom they eventually took in as a disciple.

. She harbors a deep hatred for demonic cultivation and doesn't think anything is wrong with punishing them. In essence she represents the irl people who just hate Wei Wuxian and an answer to people who think demonic cultivation users are just poor unfortunate souls who had no choice.

She's wrong in some points and justified in other points. No one is telling her to let go of her anger but her friends, Lilai especially, are quick to tell her that she needs to direct that anger to the right place (and not to a man who was dead during the death of her family). She goes to RenJi to vent whenever she needs it.

(and RenJi is always there to tell Lilai that she really needs to be more gentle with her wording)

She's usually very mischievous. It's difficult to be mad at her because seeing her happy is a far cry from the catatonic girl they nursed back to consciousness. Surprisingly, she is the most nurturing of the disciples. It's an unspoken agreement that she handles the other traumatized kids they will save.

I planned to make more characters with funny abbreviations like, XD, LOL, OWO, etc but it's tiring to look for Chinese characters...

Finally, the nebulous existence of

Jiang Xie

She never had a name first, then someone asked and I had to give her a name. Then I forgot what the name was and I have no internet to look. For the first time she's gonna get referred to by name in a drawing so I just put Xie and was done with it. Then I forgot that it was Xie lol. I finally looked up Chinese characters to make names for others and I named her MiFu (overflowing blessing, something like that) then I saw the comic again where she is Xie and well Xie it is. Thankfully it could mean harmony which fit her despite her chaotic tendencies.

She was never planned to be anything beyond the first comic thingy. As someone who only watched the worst version (the anime/manhua) finding out that the temple scene is different from what really happened, especially people's outrage about it compelled me to both make something silly about it that can comfort the traumatized grape. Lol.

Then some people really liked her, I did have some not funny ideas in my head so I just drew that. Sometimes others would comment stuff that gave me ideas so I made those. In a sense she's a group effort I guess. She just developed like that. She is a joke character at her very core though. I wanted to hit a balance of funny innocent children stuff without making her just a walking ball of gags.

Ultimately she's a good kid who likes helping people by suggesting solutions only children would think of (Jin Ling has no dad? Swear brotherhood with her so they can share her dad!) It usually doesn't help but it makes the receiver of the advice feel better more often than not. Promising to break the legs of her loved ones' bullies is her love language.

[happybunny999]

Invincible comic/show characters react to Complete Arsenal black reader with a protective s/o

(The reader is 18 years old and is very cute/winsome and is playful, helpful, bubbly and naive but is very powerful being with having every superpower and unworldly abilities possible without limitations to any of them. Has a powerful bow,sword and wand and can do her magic/powers with both or with her right hand

(The reader and s/o are friends and s/o is protective of the reader and try’s to keep her out of trouble/danger due to her personality and the reader’s will to help others as well as her immense power) (s/o has the power to control every weapon’s known possible and as superhuman strength) 

Mark Grayson: thinks your simple adorable but doesn’t like how you are just so playful and fall for every trick in the book but is alarmed yet amazed by your complete power you have over everything known and unknown to mankind and viltrumites and anyone else and sees why your friend is protective of you and can understand if anything happens

Nolen Grayson: honestly didn’t know what to think about you at all. At one point you are all powerful and could do so much damage and destruction and death if you you weren’t so naive and with your personality he genuinely thought you have something wrong with you but after leave earth and battling Thragg he sees what you are capable of and understand your friend’s reasons for keeping you way from everyone 

Oliver Grayson: didn’t like you at all how could someone with your attitude and personality could be the most powerful being in the universe and still be such an idiot despite have greater knowledge then everyone else in the universe and doesn’t see why s/o waste his time on protecting you

Atom eve: genuinely hated you because of your naivety and how you talk so casually and is too optimistic during a dangerous situation and even try’s to be fair to everyone, including enemies, even someone like conquest you try to be kind too and when she try to battle you and use her god form to witch you easily defeat her with little effort and energy 

Angstrom levy: couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you he actually thought it couldn’t be real with someone with your childish, kind, helpful innocence. But it was real, he then thought you were some kind of god with the MANY abilities and power you have and also the weapons you can summon out of nowhere and sees no reason for you to even need someone to protect you when it seems that you could handle yourself

Ceil Stedman:would quickly as much information about you as possible and will send people to watch you at all times when he first saw your power but he also doesn’t care for your personality at all

Thragg: doesn’t like your weak personality in fact he hates it because sees just how powerful you are and that you don’t even use your full power at all and that what makes him angry at how much abilities you are not using at all

Anissa: hates your personality but is impressed by your power and weapons and when she try’s to fight you and is defeated quickly within seconds and is also mad at how you saved mark from her with your abilities and indifference to how you need a someone to protect you despite your abilities 

Viltrum empire: will see you as a massive threat with your powerful presence and would not care about your personality at all and send troops to take you only to fail every single time

Sinister mark: when he saw you during the ‘invincible war’ he thought you were a joke completely and tried to kill you but you quickly gave him a run for his money honestly and he loved it but hated your friend and your stupid personality

Mohawk Mark: found you to be adorable and beautiful with your personality and loves how strong you are he would also thank you for saving him twice one from the wasteland dimension and two by robot attack

Evil versions of marks: hated you at first and didn’t trust you and will become grateful to you for bringing them back from death

[bildads-shoes]

Ever since I saw this incredible post I've been thinking a lot more about the book vs show differences, and one of the things my brain keeps returning to is the very different presentation of Heaven and Hell.

In the book, I feel like the majority of the time Heaven and Hell are mentioned, it's simply in reference to them being adversaries. They're often just referred to in the context of being Aziraphale and Crowley's bosses, both equally uninterested in humanity or the details of their employees' actions. Hence, we really do see them as not being so different from each other, and dislike them both equally. Personally, I feel this is a bit different in the show.

In the show we actually get to see Heaven and Hell. We get to see Beelzebub for more than a couple of lines, we get to meet Gabriel, and we get to feel the atmosphere of Heaven and Hell as settings.

In terms of their general vibe, the difference feels pretty stark. Heaven is empty, cold, unfeeling; every interaction between the angels we see is laced with mistrust and two-faced scheming. Hell, on the other hand, does have emotion; it's a deeply unpleasant space, of course, but the way the demons complain to each other feels more honest. Take Uriel and Michael: we've seen them throughout both seasons, yet I can't recall either of them expressing a single honest feeling. Shax and Furfur, on the other hand, have had a lot of honest moments both with each other and with other characters. In a bizarre way, Hell becomes more relatable, more likeable, in the show.

Of course, there are massive issues with Hell, but they don't necessarily come across at first glance. The really dark aspects are almost always played off with jokes, to the extent that we don't talk about them that much. Beelzebub is pretty well liked from what I can tell, despite evidently having extensively tortured their employees - but it's part of a funny scene so we instinctively overlook it. Gabriel, on the other hand, seems widely loathed; he's just blatantly a dick in Season 1, and we don't see enough of him actually as himself in Season 2 to balance that out. I'm sure that's also in part due to fake-Aziraphale's trial being resurfaced in Season 2 as a serious, traumatic event for Crowley. We aren't shown the impact that Hell's treatment of Crowley had on Aziraphale, so once again Heaven ends up seeming like the more 'evil' side.

So I suppose it's no surprise that we end up having more discussions surrounding dismantling Heaven in Season 3, with Hell's toxicity being a slightly lesser topic of conversation. It does instinctively feel a little like Heaven is the 'bad one' in comparison, whereas we have to actively analyse those throwaway/comedic moments to acknowledge the massive issues with Hell. Therefore, to me, that neutral/equal presentation of the two 'bosses' in the book is no longer the case in the show.

Perhaps this is all because the show is shifting more towards commentary surrounding religious institutions as opposed to the Cold War energy of the book. Or perhaps we'll be explicitly shown more of Hell's dark side in Season 2 and will return to truly seeing them as equally bad. Or maybe you have a totally different interpretation (please let me know 👉👈). I don't know man, I just needed to get this thought out honestly lol.

[rottenpumpkin13]

*timidly walks up to the cash register*

Can I… can I plz ask for your fluffiest AGSZ or SZ snippet/headcanon plz? I’ve been lanced in the heart by your wonderfully evil community and it’s what the doctor ordered :,3 ❤️

Innocent Moments No One Sees

• Zack laughing so hard at the way Sephiroth pronounces schedule that milk comes out of his nose. Sephiroth then laughing so hard at the milk coming out of Zack's nose that he is immobile on the ground for several minutes.

• Sephiroth falling asleep in the library, Genesis and Angeal counting how many books they can stack on top of him before he wakes up.

• Zack folding paper daisies that Aerith taught him and placing them in Sephiroth's hair one by one during a meeting.

• Angeal and Sephiroth walking back to the tower after getting milkshakes. They got different flavors, but switch drinks every ten minutes. They're talking about what they would name their hypothetical pet chocobo.

• Genesis giving Zack another ear piercing. Zack is sitting on Genesis' bathroom sink with his feet up, wearing a battered Loveless hoodie he fully plans on stealing from him. They're both talking about the first time they got their ears pierced as Genesis works.

• Angeal and Zack going on a run and jokingly racing each other. Angeal can't catch up to Zack, who has infinite energy. Then Zack trips and faceplants on the ground, getting a bloody nose. Angeal then gives him a piggyback ride back to the tower. They're clowning around on their way there, with Zack pretending that he's a cowboy and Angeal is his horse.

• Zack dragging Sephiroth up to the roof on a rainy day, giving him a fun yellow raincoat and ordering that he jump in all the puddles to heal his inner child. Little did they know that Genesis and Angeal had been hiding behind some ventilation units and would come out with two giant super-soakers.

• Sephiroth and Genesis walking around the Skyview hall at three AM. Neither of them can sleep and are still in pajamas. They're sharing earbuds and laughing at all the cringey music Genesis has on his old MP3.

• Genesis and Angeal sprawled out on Angeal's kitchen floor in the middle of the afternoon looking at an old photo album from their childhood. They're eaten their way through half a box of ice cream sandwiches already.

• The four of them having a sleepover at Sephiroth's apartment. They've already ordered pizza, Genesis has made them all drinks, and they're now playing a boardgame with a movie that they've long abandoned playing in the background.

• The four of them going on a shopping trip to the mall. Zack is trailing behind Genesis at some high-end boutique. He's eating mango ice cream and critiquing every one of Genesis' outfit choices. Meanwhile, Angeal and Sephiroth are laughing their asses off. They found a gothic clown painting at an art store and are now lugging it back to the car. They plan on hanging it in Lazard's office as a prank.

• Sephiroth putting clear tape on his office door at Zack's exact eye level, then texting him "I have cookies in my office if you want some." He then watches as Zack runs into the tape at full speed.

• All of them going on a mission together, something that usually doesn't happen, but even Lazard could agree that they needed a break. The four of them are laying on the grass outside the camp with their heads touching. They're watching the stars and sharing jokes. Nothing bad has happened yet.

[wolfpawzjakey]

political marriage Jercy AU

When Juno announces exactly how the Romans and Greeks will consolidate peace between themselves, Jason wants to fall at her feet to beg or laugh hysterically and ask who came up with such a funny joke. Next to him, Percy turns pale and his legs weaken, Annabeth holds him gently by grabbing his elbow. Marriage, a divine marriage fixed between souls... the marriage of the leaders of both camps, the marriage of the most powerful demigods, the marriage of Jason Alexander Grace and Perseus Dylan Jackson. Venus is smiling at Jason, her smile is bright, dazzlingly beautiful, her hair is silky black curls, and her eyes are the color of sea waves. You didn't dare dream about it, did you? She asks, teasingly desirable and looking like Percy. Jason is bad at feelings and he experiences them at the most inopportune terrible moments - hunger when Thalia is sick, the desire to get maternal affection when Beryl is too drunk, falling in love when it's his best friend who just got out of the real fucking hell, broke up with his girlfriend, because their relationship is not the healthiest coping mechanism and just wants to go to his mother and live with her like a mere mortal.

Jason is in love and feels terribly guilty.

Percy is tired, he just wants peace and his mom.

This is such an interesting take on it and I like it a lot. Perce taking to the marriage as a chore initially, his duty has been to accept his roles in missions even if he does so backhandedly. He doesn’t go easily into it, but does all the same. He has no energy left to spit at the feet of the person who even raised the subject to the level he gazed upon.

Jason however takes it on like he usually does, silencing his complaints and just taking it like a good prince like soldier should. Sure, maybe it is the most hysterical joke his life has played on him, but what’s another one to the pile. He’s more worried about his friend whose mental health just took a dive into the deep end as the announcement. Percy being subdued is not a look anyone likes to see on him. And to make it worse, the feelings Jason has for Percy just makes the way Percy looks now feel all that much worse. Jason feels ill when he can visibly see the sick feeling on Percy’s face.

The following days just have this dreadful, sticky feeling to them. Percy is just a bitter husk and Jason is a sad puppy watching the person he loves look less than ecstatic at this new turn in their lives. And he gets sadder when their whole group grows quiet too, it’s like everyone is mourning but for what, it’s hard to tell.

Jason sitting in his pining and sadness, because he understands why the mood is so low, but marrying Percy isn’t a bad thing. He would be happy if it’d been done on better terms. But everyone is acting as if they’re soon to attend a funeral procession. He understands, but it doesn’t make him feel any better, any less rejected.

And Percy just lurks in the feeling, unable to break himself of the unannounced spell of silence he’s held especially toward Jason who’s just as much a victim of circumstance as he is. But could you blame him? He’s exhausted, he wants to live a normal life, go home to his mom and cry in her arms like he did when he was little. He escaped hell with Annabeth, their relationship severed from the sheer horrors they’d faced, from the evil he held within himself, and now he was forced into yet another plan of the gods. Forced into something he just can’t yet bring himself to accept. And he sees how his mood is affecting others, how it’s affecting Jason, but he can’t help but wallow in his self pity. He can’t help but to give himself one moment of utter weakness because this, after everything, is just too much. His wish for normalcy depleted to ash.

-

The idea is a lovely tragedy. It makes for great opportunity to fix broken bonds.

Thank you for send this to me :)))