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underneathsoldiers · 17 days ago

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Konig x reader: he thinks you’re engaged

Konig had been disconnected from society for so long that he couldn’t tell your four dollar fake diamond ring from an engagement ring that costs thousands. He noticed the peanut sized plastic and his blood boiled to the point that his head hurt. He couldn’t accept that you weren’t waiting for him to gain the confidence to ask you on a date.

Ironically, you had a crush on him. You were working for Kortac as one of the staff, accompanying Konig and his team on missions. You were basically the paid version of an intern. You did every small task that was required, to the point that the operators had joked about you being their maid, mother, or servant.

Konig would shut down all those jokes when you stopped pretending to laugh at them. He was always protective of you. He never let any of the operators alone with you and worked extra so you were away from danger. Which, considering the type of work they did, was a constant task.

So he had this romantic ideal of you in his head. He knew that the others wouldn’t dare hit on you because he lectured them (after drinking two beers for nerves) about keeping it professional. He had this unspoken dynamic with them where he could think something and they knew it. One of them was that you were his.

But either he was delusional or you ignored it, because you had a ring!

He was too anxious to confront you. So he called for a meeting in the middle of the day, interrupting their training and having them stare at him with sweat and drenched clothes.

“Which one of you proposed to her?” Konig said with a shake to his voice. He repeated it with more force. “Who proposed to her?”

The operators were confused. They stared at each other before they glanced back at him. They all agreed that they haven’t even talked to you.

Konig felt like ripping his hood down and scratching his face until he bled.

“You should ask her,” one of the operators said. They all knew about Konig’s social anxiety— another one of those things that was unspoken but obvious— so the audacity made Konig agitated.

“If it’s any of you,” Konig pointed at them vaguely. “I’ll- I’ll kill you.”

The operators all said “okay, okay” like consoling a child throwing a tantrum. It’s not that they didn’t respect him. But it was hard to show that when he was acting like a teenager with his first crush. It was pitiful.

You were done for the day and you went to your dorm. It was far off from the other dorms, and normally Konig would walk with you to it. It was a sweet, protective gesture. But he wasn’t there tonight. You shrugged and went by yourself.

Then you entered your room to find it a mess. The drawers were drawn open, clothes strewn around, your bed sheets covering it. Konig was kneeling, looking through your clothes, as though looking for some clue.

You were terrified and angry. “Konig?”

He had been so warped in his desperation that he didn’t notice you come in. He looked at you like a dog caught stealing food, his blue eyes seeming vulnerable. But he was a six foot beast, so it was a mix of adorable and intimidating.

He looked at the ring you wore. “Who?” He uttered out so low that you almost didn’t hear it.

“Who what?” You asked.

“Who proposed?” Konig shifted his knees until he was in front of you. He grasped your hand and his grip shook.

“What are you talking about?” You snap at him. He destroyed your room and you just wanted to relax for the night. “What is wrong with you? Look what you did!”

You’ve never felt above him before. Right now, he truly resembled a scolded dog. You almost expected him to whimper like one as he cupped your hand in both of his.

“Why did you wreck my room?” You demanded to know, taking advantage of his vulnerability to take justice into your own hands.

“I need to know,” Konig said. “I need to know. Who. Who gave you this.” He glared at the ring on your hand with immense hatred.

“I got this for myself,” you said.

He was confused. Then he touched it and it finally dawned on him that it was practically a toy of a ring.

If he didn’t have the hood on, you would have seen this face turn red. He kept his soft hold on your hand, as though it were sacred.

“I thought it was an engagement ring,” he confessed. “I was looking for proof of who your boyfriend was.”

“Well, I don’t have one,” you said. You couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when he was on his knees like this. Vulnerable to you. “You could’ve just asked, you know.”

Konig let out an awkward chuckle, “A-ah, yes. I could have done that. I may have… I may have overreacted.”

“You know I wouldn’t dare snitch,” you said, thinking he was paranoid about you exposing Kortac to a lover.

But Konig knew that he couldn’t just back away now. He embarrassed himself in front of his crew and now in front of you. He had to at least have some advancement. Even if you rejected him.

“No. It’s that. I really want to,” Konig tried to find the words to describe what he felt for you.

“Oh my god, were you jealous?” You didn’t know if you were frustrated or found it completely adorable. “You thought I was engaged and you went crazy looking for the guy— you were going to kill him, weren’t you?”

“Not necessarily,” Konig said, then admitted. “I would threaten first.”

“Oh my god,” you held your forehead. Your heart raced. “Clean my room and I’ll go on a date with you. How about that?” You couldn’t believe what you were saying. This guy was your boss, a killer. But he was still on his knees, still holding your hand and still with that doggy look.

Konig instantly stood up and pulled you to a hug, lifting you to his torso. You squealed in surprise, then laughed with mirth as you returned the embrace.

“I didn’t know you liked me this much,” you remarked as he put you back down.

Konig was so ecstatic that his social anxiety was drowned by his excitement. He lifted his hood and kissed you on the lips, holding your face to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest and you could hear his purr.

After you both organized the room(because you wanted the process to hurry), you put the ring in his pinkie finger. “Here. Now it’s our ring.”

#cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod #call of duty #cod fanfic #konig fluff #konig fanfiction #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n

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euphoria-looney · 3 months ago

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Who Said Money Can't Buy Happiness?

Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader

m. list|prev|next

"Three things don't play about myself, my money, or my man. Mention one of them and best believe I'm gon' be at your head." 'Neva Play' by Megan Thee Stallion ft. RM

Divider Creds: @selysie , @lil-liaa and @bernardsbendystraws

This plot was inspired by @niwaart, @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff, and esp @coldilikeit

Oh crap, I'm still here.

Despite what manhwas tells you, being sent back in time is not fun. There is no technology, no social media, and I'm being literal here. I've regressed, and the social standards are so goofy. I shouldn't complain too much; I got a high title for reincarnating.

This sucked. I thought that was all a dream yesterday, this can't be happening to me.

Well, I have 500,000 gold coins, which makes me one of the richest people in the world.

Imagine this currency: copper, silver, and gold.

Since I've woken up, I might put the plan that I had in my mind into action.

Let's see if this is just like the movies.

I clapped my hands, and my magic started working. It was getting me ready, brushing my hair, changing my clothes, and applying skincare!

Why did I struggle so hard with the maids yesterday if it was this easy?! I guess that part was on me, but let's be honest, I did no wrong, so that mistake didn't happen.

A person knocked on my door, opening it to see a butler.

"Pardon me, princess, but I had been misguided by the other employees here and have arrived late, from today onwards, I'll be your butler."

I looked at him up and down, almost having a stroke, tell me why he looked like Aldira. My secretary? Though I did tell that biggie if I was going down, he'd come with me.

"No offense, you seem diligent at your job, but why am I not having a maid?"`

"All the maids were too afraid to become your personal assistant, and I took the position, I hope you don't mind that"

Damn, why are you so blunt?

"Your name?"

"Aldira's, Your Highness."

The way he carries himself and how he acts, on top of that, the name, why if I didn't know any better, he sounds just like my Aldira in my past life.

No, that is absurd.

Aldira's POV

For the longest time, I've had only one friend stick to me since we were at least teenagers.

My parents were strict and expected nothing but the best from me, from my grades to my activities and the future path that would await me.

My parents were at best middle class, and that I'm grateful for, don't get me wrong, but if I wasn't as intelligent as I was I would have never gone to Gotham Prep, got in with a scholarship, and excelled.

Unlike those dramatic shows or novels, I was not bullied for being the smartest in the school or being too poor to be one of them, instead, I would be what students admired and compared to.

Many people talked about me positively, and I carried an image that was something every parent would want.

But every time I checked the scoreboard, there was one person behind me in terms of rank, [name] Wayne. Though she went by [name] [last name] for some odd reason, one I would not figure out until later on.

The way we went was goofy, it wasn't cliche or anything. We had been invited to the same study group and my parents believed it would be a good opportunity to build connections with the upper class.

The study session turned boring quickly though and I was left doodling to myself while everyone was studying or asking me to help until I saw a pencil tap my journal making me lift my head to face her, [name].

"You read 'I Became the Male Lead's Adopted Daughter' too?"

That shocked me, how did she know that... is she a stalker?

Her eyes kind of pointed to my phone where the notification of a new chapter upload of the said manhwa popped up.

"Yeah, you read these types of stories too?"

"Sometimes."

And we hit it off from there.

"Can you believe some of the girls are saying we're dating?" I sipped on my black coffee as she drank her matcha latte.

"Wasn't it Parcilla, the girl who has a very weird crush on you?" She questioned me, making me nod.

"You biggie, that means I might be the next target to be bullied because of your fan club, nah, I'm too amazing to be the one bullied."

I slapped her upside the head from that comment.

Don't be fooled though, because behind her laid-back personality, she had a huge ego that could make anyone want to beat her up, she just never expresses it so she's easily likable and I enjoy that personality of hers.

Flash forward and we both have jobs and have monthly meet-ups.

I was busy typing away for my report on a report for my job as manager of a high-end company, of course, I couldn't complain. The salary was good, and I was able to save up for my family to get out of Gotham and head to another part of the world, they urged me to go but then I wouldn't be able to hang out with [name] which I know was a stupid reason but long-distance relationships were neither of our thing.

"Ugh, at this point these imbeciles won't give their report in time for our next meeting and we'll have to push it back to next week or something," I grumbled before hearing the timer go off indicating it was time to take off our face mask.

"Why don't you come and work for my company?" I heard her get up.

"Work for your company?" I repeated.

"Yeah, I mean it's non-profit, comes with many benefits including good insurance that fully works and not half-assed you, and it's triple your pay rate." My eyes widened at that preposterous claim.

"Besides, I need an assistant or secretary, it'd help me a lot." I went over to her and stole the tea that she made and took a sip.

"Fattie."

"IT'S TEA!"

"MY TEA THAT I MADE! YOU SAID THAT YOU DIDN'T WANT ANY!"

And I agreed and they're not lying when they say working together makes or breaks a relationship, as our friendship just grew even more.

Then one day on our hangouts she recommended a new novel to me.

"'I stole the loving family of the Villainess'? Now... the girl I know has no good stories at the moment, but what is this?"

"It's so bad that you want to continue reading the story. And I'm also a little biased since one of the characters has my name."

"No way."

"You want to bet?"

So I read it. And wow, she was not kidding. Also, how the hell did they incorporate her bearing a saintess into this?! As if it wasn't absurd enough...

So, while texting her what she wanted to eat while heading to our shared apartment, an out-of-control truck hit me and before I knew it I was in the story.

Talk about cliche and I arrived at the scene when [name] would shove Serena off but [name] was acting out of character making up some new dialogue, great, it's an even bigger cliche, someone reincarnates into the Villainess, bet she's going to end up forgiving everyone that was rude to her though.

Typical.

After the party and everything, Alfred, our head butler, asked us which one of the maids would volunteer to be Princess [name]'s new assistant. Since no one was going for it, I applied. I mean, the pay rate was great, and I've done my fair share in the retail industry, I know how to deal with goofy entitled customers.

So, why does she seem so familiar? I can't put my finger on it.

What if that's my [name] from my other life?

No, that's absurd and too fictional to work.

Heading to the dining room with my butler close behind, I eventually arrived.

"You're finally here big sister!" Serena's voice interrupted the wholesome family in front of me. Seems everyone had their fill already.

"You're late. Again, how disappointing." Palmola's voice was a sharp knife cutting through the silence that had developed.

"Well, I won't ruin your moods for too long, I have an appointment that I can't miss, so I'll just take this." I whisked away my breakfast and called for my new assistants to prepare a carriage for me.

"And where exactly?" Bruce demanded.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you cared about where I go and return from." I scrunch my face before heading off.

"I am your father [name]."

"Your majesty, the only people in this room who are talking are the Emperor and a princess, not father and daughter."

Aldira opened the carriage door, allowing me to step in before going in himself.

"May I know where you're headed today, Your Highness?" The coachman asked.

"The mine at WestFord."

"The mine that has been empty for years? Why, my lady, why would you ever need to go there?

"Exploring."

I'm taking a gamble on this and meeting John Constantine before purchasing it.

I sent him a letter before heading to bed last night and got a reply.

'It would be an honor to sell this cavern to you, Your Highness.

Sincerely,

Duke Constantine.

Well, it was more detailed than that but that's the premise of what he wrote back.

Stepping off the carriage I arrived at the cave. I noticed the Duke.

"Your Highness, how are you doing this fine morning?" He reached out a hand for me to shake.

I took it, his grip firm before I pulled away as did he.

"No need for small talk, it seems this cave would be fine."

"Your Highness, don't you think you're being too rash?! We haven't looked yet!" Aldira came in front of my face frantically.

"I have a hunch. But do me the honor of looking around before I seal the contract."

He didn't need to hear another word before rushing in, before coming out and began making calculations with his magic.

"At best this cave should settle for 45,000 gold, right Duke Constantine?"

"Indeed, young man, Your Highness, would you mind that price?" He asked me before I nodded.

Pulling out a contract, we both read the terms and conditions before signing our names, making our names and the contract glow, making the contract finalized with no loopholes and in no way to break it unless both parties agree.

"What powerful magic you have, unlike the rumors."

I shrugged, fanning myself, “There are things many people didn’t know about me, but what does it matter? Why should the public know anything about me?” I questioned the Duke.

He chuckled to himself before shaking his head.

“No, not at all, Your Highness, everyone has things they’d like to keep to themselves after all. May I inquire if you will attend today’s coming-of-age celebration at the Acentro Twins?” The last event we went to that became a topic that’s still being talked about most times [P!name] would stay home while the rest of her family went, worsening her reputation.

Which doesn’t make sense, shouldn’t that make it better?

This world is so hateful of my girl.

“Indeed, it would only make sense to. Well, if that’s all I should be off, I have no time to waste, after all a lady needs her time to get ready.” I walked back to the carriage, and Aldira followed me close behind.

The Marquis family, the Acentro. Known for being great in the business world, and even better for their swordsmanship abilities. Recently, the daughter of their house decided to go against society's customs and do archery. But that got overshadowed by the canceling of my engagement.

She and her brother are both very cunning and intelligent, from what I heard, so their coming-of-age ceremony will be huge, last I checked. It would be good if I made relations with them.

“Aldira, you'll be attending the ceremony with me, no?”

He looked away from the windows and nodded, “Yes, your highness.”

I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s from another world like me, my Aldira.

“Aldira, you seem to know a lot about business, where do you come from?”

This seemed to catch him off guard as he didn’t respond right away like he usually does.

“Somewhere far, is all. One that is rather advanced but I think it’s gone now.”

“Have you ever heard of someone named ‘Batman’? Silly, right? But that weird name just came to me.”

Batman, Gotham’s vigilante superhero. My good-for-nothing father slowly started acknowledging me after I left the manor. It’s quite uncanny how, in both lives, I still have him as my father, though that could be said for my entire family in this world except my Palmola and Serena.

That made him shocked, eyes widening, looking into mine, like he was thinking over something.

“Are you [name] [last name], Your Highness?”

“Depends, will you still make me coffee in the morning if I confirm that I am, my dear secretary.”

At that, he practically lunged at me, wrapping his hands around my waist, his head laying on my lap, this would be a terrible position to be in. I patted his head and was also relieved about the revelation, but it was kind of obvious.

“Holy crap, this was not a cliche I expected.” He pulled away, holding onto my shoulders.

“Tell me about it, do you think there are other reincarnations in this world?” He shook his head.

“My system tells me that I’ve located the only other reincarnation in this world, I knew it was you, I just didn’t know it was my [name].”

“System?” I asked.

“Yeah, did you not get one, I have one that shows my stats and has a quest for me to do.” This is too many story plots for me to handle.

“No, this is crazy, anyway of that system getting us home, though?” Aldira shook his head at that, making me slouch in my seat.

I scoffed, “This has been one crazy day that I did not expect.”

“Your Highness, we have made it home.” I heard the coachman announce. Aldira helped me down. Back in this miserable place, right after I left it in my previous life. Thoughts and prayers in the chat guys.

I decided to take a fat nap, setting an alarm before waking up to this monstrosity.

Maids running around like there was a killer on their backs, and were getting outfits and attire ready, crazy how I got no help at all though. By the time I got myself ready and was finishing the touch-ups on Aldria’s, I spotted my family in a family set of clothes all matching.

It was expected though so nothing I should worry about.

“Wouldn’t this just cause more scandals for you [name]? We’re matching right after your broken engagement.” Aldira scolded me but didn’t back away from receiving my help.

“Don’t kill the mood, Al, just look at how cute we are matching.”

He could only sigh, massaging his forehead, but behind that was a small smile.

What could interrupt this wholesome moment, how about the buffoons behind me?

"Don't you think you've done enough damage to the family, imagine? First the engagement and now your outfit? Matching with a common servant?" Damian scoffed.

"It's called, My entire family decided to choose an outfit and left their 4th princess out of it, but still included the peasant girl. Or did I leave the part where I had a matching outfit?"

"We didn't- I just- You shouldn't speak to your little brother that way, young lady, have some etiquette.'' Palmola inquired.

"Right. My brother."

Barbara coughed into her fist.

"Well, we'd like to inform you that Serena might just be attacked riding alone so she'll have to retake your spot.

"That's fine, I wasn't planning on going in a carriage anyway, too bumpy for my taste, and wouldn't want to leave Aldira alone." I pinned our matching jewelry on his suit and brushed dirt away from his outfit.

"Anything else?" I turned to face them. Some looked hesitant but Palmola took the lead and left. Walking with grace to the carriage.

"How do you feel about teleportation? I'm not one to be late to an event."

"Would love to try it, die wanting to try it, let's do it." Aldira bluntly stated.

"If we die, you can't blame me."

"On second thought-," I snatched his hand before we got teleported.

Arriving at the front of the line, I fixed my outfit.

"That was not bad, great even." No side effects, why yes, magic truly is a blessing phenomenon. Aldira also looked fine, so it seemed I managed this spell just fine, but is anyone surprised? It's me, after all.

The guard standing there nearly jumped out of his boots and bowed lowly. "Welcome, Your Highness! Ehem, Entering her Highness, Princess [name] Wayne!"

"You see that, Al? Even in this life, I'm too important and pretty to ignore."He deadpanned at me.

"That's because you're a very, and I mean very controversial princess. In a bad way. Remember how the original princess got executed because she was rude to the peasant MC?"

"That's why I hated the novel so much, duh. I still can't believe we're stuck here," I was exasperated.

The murmurs that were once stuck in regular conversations go into gossip, between the fact that I arrived without my family once again, and that my attendant wasn't a female but rather male.

I arrived before the twins and got my gift from my special storage.

For Artemis, a bow and arrows, and Apollo, a lyre.

"What an incompetent girl! The gifts are switched." A woman scoffed

"A woman holding a bow, please, what a mockery." A man grumbled.

The twins examined the gifts before looking back up at me.

"A bow?" Artemis grinned at me with a raised eyebrow.

"And a lyre?" Apollo added.

"Indeed, I hope you guys enjoy it, I picked it based on what I believed would suit you guys." I curtsied before going down to the ballroom.

"They play a huge part in the novel in the business industry, not only that, Artemis is known for being the best huntress of the time and years later, with Apollo also being skilled in the music industry and known for understanding how to use a bow and arrow to.

Why, it'd be a shame if we let this opportunity slide to not get on their good side and eventually have them cooperate with us, my dear Aldira." Aldira only gave me a plate of food and started making one for himself.

"Yes, while you're acting like a mastermind over there, honey, how about we eat food before I pass out from the amount of stress I've accumulated." I took his and my plate and put it away on our separate table.

"Can't, dancing in a few moments, can't throw up on the dance floor, and you, being the lucky guy of the night, are joining me."

"We didn't know how to dance back at our high school dance." I flicked my hair back and accidentally hit him in the face.

He coughed out some of the hair from his mouth and squinted at me.

"Our 'dances' that we did were scandalous for their times and even more if we do it here." He's so dramatic.

"Announcing the Waynes, the moonlight of the kingdom!" that door entrance guy announced.

"Look it's Serena, her outfit makes her look so different but she fits right in!"

"I want that outfit too! So chic and cute!"

"She might as well be the fourth princess rather than-"

"Shh!"

Aldira takes another bite of his food and can't help but grit his teeth. This world was just like the last one he was in, how he was still mad when the oldies from their modern time switched their tone on you once you built your multi-billion company on your own.

Before his attention was snatched away by you again, like always uncaring, which was one of the reasons he had admired you, not only because you were his friend.

"That's what makes it fun, Al, don't be a party pooper." Just then the orchestra started, I dragged him away from the food he just got for us and reached the dance floor.

It was just slow steps, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm.

"Look, isn't that her?"

"Dancing with... a butler."

"Do you think..."

The chorus soon came along and I was twirled a few times by

Aldira, before gliding in between his legs and making a swift recovery, twirled some more before he dipped me to the ground, our faces close, our bodies closer to each other and the song finished.

(Dance scene summed up, creds to the idea: @randomlyappearingartist)

"See, I told you this was fun." He could only sweatdrop and sigh before pulling the both of us up and escorting us back to the food.

"D-Did you see that?"

"Didn't she just divorce Prince Connor?"

"You don't think..."

"What other reason, and the look she gave that servant."

"There's no mistaking it."

I finished my food and stretched out of tiredness, "Man, I wonder what got this event in a stir..." I mumbled.

"We have to schedule a meeting with the twins soon, by the way, I have to get them into my business if I want it to blossom." Aldira nodded before telling me that he was off to get more food.

"Well, I'm going to the balcony, I was feeling claustrophobic with the amount of people crowding the room.

I was on the balcony waiting for Aldira to come back soon after grabbing another plate of food. Behind me was an approaching Grand Duke of the North with signature black hair and red eyes. His outfit's color base was black with red being the secondary base, gold details that showed off the title and golden buttons, a fur coat surrounding his neck, and the cape down to his heel.

Grand Duke Isnwalt, Onyx Isnwalt. He played a major influence on the world, both feared and respected, but didn’t become a main lead but rather just an important figure in the world. I think Serena interacted with him once but her love interest got jealous and dragged her away from him, and he didn’t think much of the interaction other than that it was weird.

“What do I owe the pleasure of meeting the Grand Duke of the North, Sir Isnwalt?” I turned to him and curtsied.

“Right now you and that butler of yours are the talk of the ball, with your dance moves from earlier, surely you would know why I approached you.” He swirled his champagne in his glass, and a deep chuckle accompanied his words.

“Why I wouldn’t say the dance was all that interesting.” I tilted my head back at him. He put his glass down on the balcony ledge and focused his attention back on me, both of us just staring back at each other before he finally spoke.

“That butler of yours… he’s interesting…” I had to turn away and let out a little stifled laugh. Never saw that coming.

I heaved a deep breath in before turning back to him.

“I-is that so?” I pinched my thigh from laughing again.

“Indeed, not like any other person I’ve ever met, would you mind letting me meet him?” Maybe it’s the way he’s so straightforward about it, or maybe it’s because he’s so serious about it, but it’s making me laugh. But I can’t- I have to hold it in.

Be who you are for your pride~

“I’ll have to think on that, Grand Duke Onyx” I spread my fan out placing it in front of my face. “For you see my butler is very important to me and we have so little time to be separate from each other as he’s such a hardworking servant to me.”

Just then, with great timing, I would say Aldira's showed up, and the Grand Duke approached him, holding his hands and giving the kiss to the tip of his fingers before staring at him.

I took a sip of my champagne, basking in the romance.

"Oh..." Aldira looked shocked before quickly pulling away. He awkwardly laughed before pulling away.

"What the hell.." Aldira scrunched up, making Onyx chuckle in a deep tone, and, what hold on is that blush coating his cheeks?

"You're not like anyone I've ever met before, you're... different, (fine shyt) darling. And you smell rather... sweet."

Wait hold on...? Smell? I feel like I'm forgetting a huge thing about this novel.

Aldira shivered from hugging himself and turned to look at me for help, making me step in.

"Aldira, This is Grand Duke, Onyx Isnwalt. An influential personal worldwide who has contributed very much to our kingdom, and has been labeled the lady and gentleman killer."

He was jaw dropped before whispering in my ear.

"Man idgaf about who he is, I'm getting harassed."

I pulled out my fan, which was my new favorite thing to do now, and whispered back.

"I understand and was going to ask for business cooperation and use you as a guinea pig, but we don't have to... unless..."

Onyx coughed into his fist, making both our attention go to him.

"Dear..."

Aldira hesitated before replying. "Aldira..."

"Aldira," He said slowly before smirking to himself.

"May I have the honor of inviting you to dinner with me? Tomorrow at the Brits Restaurant, anytime you'd like.

"Look, I appreciate the gesture-"

"50 gold as compensation for your troubles"

Aldira hesitates but his greed overcomes his thoughts and he accepts.

I felt like I was interrupting something until Aldira turned around and tugged on my sleeve. "Can we go now?" I smiled and nodded before going to the break room.

"So, how was that?" He deadpanned at me.

"Not fun." He laid his head on my shoulder but then we saw a woman with pink hair looking lost.

I approached her, making Aldira's sag down.

"Are you lost, miss..."

“Oh! Starfire, Princess of Tamaran.” I curtsied that she was Dick’s fiance.

“Prince Richard's fiance.” I stood up and looked at her.

“You know him?”

“I am a citizen of Wayne's Kingdom.” I played it off.

“My escort and I could take you to him.” Aldira stood up and walked next to me.

“We can?” I elbowed his stomach.

“Yes, we can.”

As we made it forward, you could see the picture-perfect family, a girl in the center of their attention laughing, with a cute little giggle.

“Ehem” I coughed into my fist.

“[N-name] I wasn’t-” Serena started… I think she has the wrong impression on why I’m here.

“Not you, you” I directed my attention to Dick

“Your fiance has been waiting for you, big brother.”

“Big brother? But he only has four? And if you're not the three I've already met you must be the youngest... however, you’re not the blonde girl with blue eyes." Starfire asked, though not in a mocking way but geniuen curiosity.

This was a major plot point in the future that [name] goes batshit crazy on.

However, I could feel my eye twitching, it's laughable how they treated her despite her position it's almost like they forgot who decided to shoot the load creating her, and if weren't for the fact she was got embarrassed everyday it's the fact that those incompetent nincompoop contributed maybe it's the fact that they favored a peasant over her.

It's hard, not to feel a little annoyed by the display, almost enough to chuck glass on the ground and shove it down their throat till you shred their voice box.

...

But I could never do that, I'm too nice, too kind.

Some were waiting for the drama to unfold, what's next would [name] grab Serena's hair then leaving one of her family members to take Serena side like always, throw a tantrum, or something most.

Others were excited to gossip about the scandal of this entire event.

Most were watching with interest.

Then [name] made a move, slowly turning around and slightly titling her head.

“What did you just say?” [name] directed her attention to Starfire.

Most were sweating, some were ready for the inevitable…

Anyway, this is more of a filler chap. Then anything but hey we got some new characters! Might make something that has face claims for my ocs, idk.

Did you like? 😏

Spring Break has arrived so guess who will be working their booty off (probably).

Anyway taglist. Hopefully I didn't forget or mispell anyone.

Also, send in a request in stuff and hopefully I get to them!

@kittzu @charlenexoxo1 @bat1212 @silverklaus @sillysealsies @roseytheteacup @iliveinyourwallsrat @cozmie @tomoyaki @cynniee @jsprien213 @kore-of-the-underworld @anonymoushehehehe @ninihrtss @devia @fanficloverlol @masterradd-28 @aigenarated @welpthisisboring @h-ib @diemdurantia @alishii @random4137 @totired0-0 @00hellohello00 @sh4rk-k1d @shadowytravelerlover @r-u-s-s-i-a-h @paperhermits @ocean-mochi @simpingpandas @crazycaoticsimp @candlejuice @twismare @itsberrydreemurstuff @delias-stuff @shycreatorreview @randomlyappearingartist @not-aya @c4xcocoa @midnightgrimoire @time-shardz @narcisolefay1 @ryuushou @animerules898

#platonic batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #batfam x neglected reader #yandere batfam #batfam #neglected reader #platonic yandere batfam

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mythicalmaven · 6 months ago

Text

Gotta Be You - Charles Leclerc (THREE)

masterlist | promptlist | previous part

Here is part three! And I'm honestly so proud of this chapter! I think it turned out awesome lol <3

↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!gasly!reader ↳word count: 5K ↳warnings: awkward encounters, truth or dare (trust me lol) , jealousy, alcohol, drinking games, talking about feelings ↳side info: friends to enemies to lovers, 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) ↳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.

*a few days later*

As you stood in the bathroom, tying your hair into a ponytail, the familiar scent of the devil himself filled the small space. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Charles had a way of entering a room without saying a word but still commanding all the air in it. He closed the distance between you two, silently taking his place by the sink next to you, reaching into the cupboard for his hair products.

You bit back a groan, focusing on your reflection. There was nothing inherently wrong with him being there—but him standing this close stirred feelings you desperately wanted to push aside. His presence was overwhelming, in that maddening, familiar way.

Your usual coping mechanism kicked in: sarcasm, sharp enough to keep him at arm’s length.

"Fixing your hair won’t fix your attitude, you know that, right?" you sassed, not entirely sure why you felt the need to say anything.

Charles scoffed, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. His gaze was intense, steady—always knowing too much. "There’s no attitude that needs fixing," he huffed, washing his hands and drying them on the towel with deliberate slowness. "Besides, some people actually put effort into how they present themselves..."

Your head snapped toward him. "Is this your not-so-subtle way of saying I look like shit?"

He rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Are you honestly this delusional?"

You threw your hands in the air. "Well, apparently, I am! Because that insult was completely unnecessary." You crossed your arms, leaning back against the sink with a challenging glare.

Charles shrugged, unfazed. "First of all, you started it. I didn’t do anything until you found it necessary to attack me." His voice lowered slightly, holding that aggravating calmness. "And besides… you and I both know that wasn’t an insult."

You narrowed your eyes. "How was it not an insult? You basically said I don’t put effort into how I look."

He inched closer, his movements slow and deliberate. Before you could register what was happening, his hands were on either side of you, gripping the edge of the sink. His chest hovered just inches from yours, effectively trapping you in place. His cologne wrapped around you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as his gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips before snapping back, locking onto yours like he was daring you to look away.

"Chérie, don’t act like you’re unaware that I think you’re hot," he whispered, voice low and rough. "You don’t need the effort."

Your heart thudded violently in your chest. For a split second, your gaze dropped to his lips—damn it. Realizing your mistake, you forced your eyes away, breathing through the sudden rush of heat.

You steeled yourself and met his gaze again. "Charles, quit playing games and get out of my face," you said through clenched teeth, though your voice wavered ever so slightly.

His eyes swept over you one last time, lingering on how you were still pressed against the sink, tension radiating between you like a live wire. His jaw clenched.

What the hell is he thinking?

Charles shifted back slightly, but something held him there, still too close for comfort. He exhaled sharply, as if wrestling with himself.

"What changed?" he asked quietly, voice strained.

Your brows furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He sighed, shoulders tense. "What did I do that made you hate me so much?" His voice softened, tinged with something dangerously close to regret. "What changed?"

Before you could answer—or even begin to process what to say—someone cleared their throat at the doorway.

Charles jumped back like he’d been burned, stumbling a step before retreating to sit on the edge of the bathtub, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. You turned your head sharply, locking eyes with Arthur, who stood leaning against the doorframe with a massive, knowing grin.

"I came to ask if you’re ready for game night," Arthur said casually, though his smirk betrayed every innocent intention.

You let out a slow, steadying breath, forcing yourself to relax. "Yeah, coming," you muttered, pushing off the sink and brushing past him.

But before you crossed the threshold, something tugged at you. You rested your hand on the doorframe, glancing back at Charles. His head lifted, eyes locking onto yours with a silent intensity.

"As for what changed?" you said quietly, voice sharper than you intended. "The fact that you have no idea says enough, Charles."

With that, you walked out, catching up to Arthur as he fell into step beside you, still grinning like an idiot.

He glanced sideways at you, suppressing a laugh. "You two really have a thing for getting caught in bathrooms together, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Don’t start."

Arthur chuckled. "Well, let’s just say... I did put my money on you two hooking up this holiday, but I didn’t expect you to get that intimate that fast."

"First of all, nothing happened," you snapped, face heating. "And second, it wasn’t what it looked like."

"That’s what they all say," Arthur teased. "But to me, it looked like my brother had you pinned against the sink pretty damn convincingly."

You groaned. "He did not have me pinned—"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Because you being pressed against the sink while he boxed you in with his hands definitely looked like pinning from where I was standing."

"Fine," you admitted, throwing your hands up. "It looked exactly like that, but it was not for the reason you so desperately hope it was. So shut your mouth before I call your mom and tell her what happened to her couch." you said, referring to the time you caught Arthur and his former girlfriend having sex on his mom's new couch.

Arthur’s grin dropped instantly, his hands shooting up in mock surrender. "Alright, relax, no need for threats!" he laughed, shaking his head as the two of you headed downstairs.

As you and Arthur walked into the living room, you couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing, shaking your head in mock exasperation.

"I’m still putting my money on it, though," Arthur added with a mischievous grin, his voice light but teasing.

Before you could respond, Dennis looked up from where he was lounging on the couch, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Putting your money on what?"

Arthur didn’t miss a beat. "That she’ll hook up with Charles before the end of this trip," he declared confidently, shooting you a knowing smirk.

Dennis let out a deep chuckle, sitting up straighter. "Oh, definitely. There’s no doubt in that," he agreed, his tone playfully conspiratorial.

You groaned dramatically, throwing your hands in the air. "Seriously? You’re both delusional."

Arthur shrugged. "Just calling it like we see it. The tension could be cut with a knife."

Dennis nodded sagely, as if offering expert commentary. "It’s practically inevitable."

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a pillow from the nearest couch and tossed it at Dennis, who dodged it with practiced ease, laughing.

"You two are ridiculous," you muttered, fighting back a smile as they continued to exchange amused glances like co-conspirators.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊⁺

Tonight, the sky outside was pitch black, the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance as the group gathered in the living room. Sprawled across the plush couches, each of you with a drink in hand, the night carried an air of relaxed intimacy. The warm light of the room and the subtle buzz of alcohol created the perfect atmosphere for a game that was bound to stir up some chaos.

It was Inès who first suggested it, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she leaned forward, waving her drink for emphasis. “Okay,” she announced, her grin widening. “Let’s play ‘Never Have I Ever.’”

There was a mix of groans and laughs, but no one protested. As the alcohol worked its magic, the group quickly fell into the rhythm of the game, starting with tame questions.

“Alright,” Inès began, her tone playful. “Never have I ever made out at work.”

A beat of silence followed before all the boys raised their glasses almost simultaneously, their movements earning a round of laughter.

“I should’ve guessed,” you said, shaking your head as they took their sips.

The game continued, the questions growing more personal but still lighthearted. Dennis asked if anyone had ever called in sick to work when they weren’t actually sick, which prompted a unanimous drink from nearly everyone. Joris, with his usual antics, asked if anyone had ever gotten so drunk they couldn’t remember anything, earning another flurry of laughter as most of the group took a sip.

Then Kika piped up, her eyes sparkling as she leaned back against Pierre with a devilish grin. “Okay, my turn,” she announced, her voice dripping with amusement. “Never have I ever made out with my brother’s or sister’s best friend.”

The room broke into a chorus of gasps and giggles as everyone’s eyes darted around, scanning for raised glasses other than the obvious ones. Pierre groaned, shaking his head with a laugh as he lifted his drink and took a sip.

“You just want to get your boyfriend drunk, don't you?” Dennis teased Kika, his grin widening as he, too, raised his glass and took a sip.

Kika laughed, and looked at Pierre, who shot Dennis a playful smirk. “You did too, I see?”

Dennis chuckled, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah, can't deny that.”

Kika raised an eyebrow, her gaze flitting around the room. “Alright, anyone else want to confess?”

You stayed silent, hiding your smirk behind the rim of your glass as you watched the game unfold. The question might not have been directed at you specifically, but the implications swirling around the room were impossible to ignore, clearly an indirect question to see if you actually ever made out with Charles, which bummer to them, you didn't.

The game was already proving to be far more chaotic than you’d anticipated. The group sat sprawled out on the plush couches in the villa’s living room, drinks in hand and laughter filling the air. You’d already survived a few rounds of lighthearted questions—some borderline embarrassing—but when Dennis sat forward, his mischievous grin spelled trouble.

“Okay,” Dennis announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Y’all ask boring questions. Let’s spice this up.” He took a dramatic pause, letting the tension build before smirking. “Never have I ever gotten off to the thought of someone in this room… since we arrived here.”

A ripple of laughter broke out immediately. Kika, sitting snugly next to Pierre, was the first to respond, raising her glass with a playful roll of her eyes. “Well, I think I better drink, because let’s be honest—no one would believe me if I said no, considering my boyfriend is literally right here.”

Pierre nudged her with a grin, clearly unbothered by her admission as he sipped from his own glass. “As if the feeling isn’t mutual,” he teased, earning another round of laughter.

Across the room, Gigi tried to be subtle, lifting her glass for a quick sip, but Dennis’ sharp eyes caught her immediately. “Oh, I saw that, Gi!” he exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Gigi flushed crimson, glaring at him. “Shut up, Dennis,” she shot back, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her. “Don’t turn all the attention on me. I’m not the only one who drank!” She gestured toward a few others who had lifted their glasses.

“Oh, I’m not pretending I didn’t,” Dennis said casually, raising his glass again for emphasis. “Because I have zero shame” His eyes flicked toward you for the briefest moment, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, silently hoping to stay under the radar. But your attempt at blending into the background only seemed to make you more conspicuous.

“Don’t act all shy now, Gasly,” Dennis teased, his tone smug. His eyes locked on you as he leaned forward. “I saw you take a sip. Don’t think I didn’t notice that. Care to enlighten us who the lucky one is?”

Your cheeks burned as every pair of eyes turned toward you. You scrambled to think of a response, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you forced a laugh, raising an eyebrow at Dennis. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you quipped, your voice surprisingly steady despite the heat in your face.

The group erupted into a mix of laughter and teasing comments, but before the attention could shift completely, Arthur piped up from where he was seated beside Charles.

“Alright, alright,” Arthur said, his grin widening as he leaned forward. “We’ve all been so focused on you three, but is no one going to mention the fact that two other people drank as well?” His eyes darted pointedly toward Charles and Joris, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Hmm, I wonder who those drinks were about.”

Charles stiffened slightly beside him, his jaw tightening as he tried to play it cool. “Don’t drag me into this,” he muttered, taking another sip of his drink as if to distract himself.

“Too late, mate,” Arthur shot back with a grin, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “You drank. That means you’ve got to own up to it.”

Joris, ever the instigator, leaned back with a smug grin of his own. “Yeah, Charles, don’t be shy. Who’s the lucky one, huh?”

Charles rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch and trying to appear nonchalant. “Not a chance,” he said simply, though the tips of his ears betrayed a faint redness.

You couldn’t help but glance at him briefly, your curiosity piqued. Did he…? No, there was no way. You quickly shoved the thought aside, but the idea lingered annoyingly in the back of your mind.

Meanwhile, Charles’ thoughts were anything but composed. When you’d taken a sip earlier, his stomach had twisted uncomfortably. At first, he’d assumed it was Dennis—the way Dennis was always teasing you, always so close—but then another thought crept in, one that made his pulse quicken. What if it wasn’t Dennis?

The idea of it being about him sent a conflicting mix of emotions surging through him—hope, doubt, and an overwhelming sense of confusion. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Joris’ subtle kick to his shin until it made contact.

“Stop staring,” Joris whispered, smirking at his friend. “You’re making it obvious.”

Charles snapped out of his reverie, glaring at Joris. “Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, shifting in his seat.

Arthur, ever the opportunist, caught the exchange and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this now?” he asked, clearly amused. “Charles getting a little distracted?”

“Leave him alone,” Joris said with a grin, though his tone was far from serious. “Poor guy’s got enough on his plate already.”

“Oh, definitely not, he's pestered me long enough about things, payback time” Arthur said, his laugh echoing over the group’s chatter as Charles groaned, clearly regretting his choice to participate

The laughter hadn’t fully settled when Paul leaned forward with a mischievous grin, his drink loosely dangling in one hand. He glanced between you and Charles, his tone teasing as he spoke.

“So, Y/n, didn’t you mention something about the walls here being thin?” Paul asked, clearly enjoying the tension he was stirring. “Hope Charles has been a quiet neighbor. Otherwise, you probably heard everything. Poor Y/n.”

The room erupted into laughter, Dennis and Arthur practically doubling over. Kika smirked, nudging Pierre, who groaned, already sensing where the conversation was heading.

Charles narrowed his eyes at Paul, his jaw tightening slightly before he forced a smirk onto his face. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know,” he shot back. “If I had to… handle things, I’d make sure no one heard a damn thing. Either that or I’d do it somewhere more private.”

The laughter grew louder, Dennis nearly choking on his drink. “Good to know you’ve got a strategy, mate,” he teased, wiping his mouth.

You couldn’t help but feel heat creeping up your neck at the implication. The idea of Charles trying to stay quiet, and worse, the thought of actually overhearing him, made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t want to unpack. Not that you’d ever admit it.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t hear anything,” you retorted, forcing a grin to hide your flustered state. “Because if I did, I’d probably have hearing damage.”

Charles turned to you, his smirk sharpening as he shot back, “As if I’d want to get off with you right outside my room.”

The room went silent for half a beat before Dennis, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned forward with a wicked grin. “No,” he said, drawing out the word for effect. “Because you’d prefer her in the room, wouldn’t you?”

The laughter that followed was deafening. Dennis clinked his glass with Paul’s, who was shaking his head but laughing just as hard. Charles, on the other hand, turned beet red, his face almost matching the color of his drink.

You weren’t any better, your face burning as you buried it in your hands. “Dennis, I swear to God,” you muttered, though your voice was muffled by the roar of the group.

Pierre groaned, his expression one of pure disgust as he rubbed his temples. “Okay, are you done? Because we are so not dragging my baby sister into Charles’ dirty fantasies.”

Arthur, always ready to escalate things, grinned and leaned back in his chair. “We don’t have to drag her into anything, Pierre,” he joked. “Charles probably already does that himself.”

The laughter doubled, filling the room with chaos as you and Charles sat frozen in mortification. Kika had tears streaming down her face from laughing, while Joris clapped a hand on Charles’ shoulder, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Pierre glared at the group, clearly over it. “I don’t even want to know,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Can we just move on before I lose my mind?”

The group slowly settled, though the smirks and giggles lingered as someone suggested the next round of the game. But despite the conversation moving on, you couldn’t help but feel Charles’ gaze flick toward you now and then, and you hated how much your heart raced when it did.

Meanwhile, Charles couldn’t stop replaying Dennis’ comment in his head. The idea of you in his room—or worse, of you thinking about him in that way—had lodged itself in his mind, refusing to budge. He shook his head, trying to focus on the game, but it was no use.

Neither of you wanted to admit it, but the seed of thought had been planted, and it was impossible to ignore.

The game moved on, the attention shifting away from Charles and you for the moment, but the tension hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite. Charles stole another glance at you, his thoughts still tangled in the what-ifs. And as for you? You couldn’t help but wonder if you were indeed the one that had made him drink in the first place.

It was Joris who leaned forward next, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Alright, never have I ever kissed my best friend.”

The room buzzed with anticipation as everyone exchanged curious glances. Inès was the first to raise her glass and take a drink, earning a few cheers and teasing remarks. But it was the way both you and Arthur looked at each other, simultaneously bursting into laughter, that drew all the attention. Without hesitation, the two of you clinked your glasses together dramatically and downed your drinks in one go.

Charles raised an eyebrow, his perplexed expression giving him away. “Wait—you and Y/n kissed?” he asked, his gaze flicking between the two of you, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Arthur let out a laugh, leaning back casually. “Jealous much?” he shot back, his grin widening when he saw the flicker of annoyance cross Charles’ face.

Charles opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur cut him off with a chuckle. “Relax, I’m just kidding.”

Despite his brother’s reassurance, Charles still looked a little dumbfounded, his confusion—and something else he wouldn’t name—lingering. Kika, always one to stir the pot, leaned forward with a smirk. “Okay, I’m curious now. What’s the story?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you waved a hand dismissively. “There’s not much of a story, honestly. Happened a few times. We were both hopeless and single, and we figured, why not? It was just for fun. Turns out we were terrible at it.”

Arthur nodded in agreement, still grinning. “Massive failure. Zero chemistry. The kiss sucked, and we both agreed never to try again.”

“And the other times?” Kika pressed, her curiosity clearly piqued.

“Oh, just Truth or Dare,” you replied with a shrug. “Happened once or twice when we were younger. Nothing serious. More like a punishment than a kiss, honestly.”

The room erupted into laughter, with Inès nearly choking on her drink as she laughed the hardest. “I can so picture your disgusted faces,” she managed between giggles.

As the laughter died down, Inès perked up, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Speaking of Truth or Dare,” she said, her grin widening, “we should switch to that. Way more interesting than this.”

The group exchanged glances, a ripple of excitement building at the prospect of what chaos Truth or Dare might bring. You couldn’t help but glance at Charles, whose expression was still unreadable, though his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long before he looked away. Whatever this next game would bring, you had a feeling it wasn’t going to get any less intense.

The questions escalated slowly, moving from tame confessions to more suggestive dares. Someone dared Dennis to prank call his ex, which he executed flawlessly, much to everyone’s amusement. Gigi had to show the last text she sent to Joris, blushing furiously as everyone gathered around to read it. Pierre, naturally, had been dared to whisper something filthy to Kika, who doubled over laughing and refused to tell anyone what he’d said.

Then it was Paul’s turn, and his eyes gleamed as he scanned the room, finally landing on you. “Y/n,” he called out with a grin. “Truth or dare?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”

Paul’s grin widened, and the others leaned in, already sensing mischief. “I dare you to kiss Charles.”

The room went dead silent, every eye darting toward you.

You froze for a beat before scoffing loudly. “God, no”

“Oh, come on,” Dennis teased, smirking at you. “A dare is a dare”

“No, ew!” you shot back, shaking your head emphatically. “Anyone else in the world rather than him. I’d rather stick my tongue inside a trash can than kiss him.”

The tension seemed to settle, the group already laughing at your dramatic protests, until Charles’ voice cut through. Low, clipped, and tinged with something that sounded like a challenge.

“That’s not what you told me when you were sixteen.”

The room froze. Even the laughter died instantly.

You stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned, your pulse roaring in your ears. His words hit like a slap, and you could see the regret flicker in his eyes almost immediately.

“That was a low blow, Charles,” Arthur muttered, shaking his head in disapproval.

Pierre leaned back with a grimace, gesturing to the group. “Guess it’s better to call this game quits, non?”

But you weren’t about to let it go. Swallowing the knot of hurt lodged in your throat, you stood, fixing your gaze on your brother. “No need to,” you said firmly. “Dennis is right, a dare is a dare.”

The group exchanged glances, unsure of what was about to happen, but you didn’t stop. The anger bubbling inside you had morphed into something else—something that demanded revenge.

You marched over to where Charles sat, his eyes widening as you closed the distance. Without a word, you reached down, lifting his chin with your thumb, forcing him to look at you.

His breath hitched, his lips parting slightly, but before he could speak, you crushed your mouth against his.

The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was heated, full of anger and defiance. His lips were warm and soft against yours, but the sharp inhale he took before his hands moved to your waist betrayed how caught off guard he was.

Charles froze for a split second, his mind scrambling to process what was happening. But when your tongue brushed against his lips, seeking entrance, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

A low, guttural sound escaped his throat as he kissed you back with equal fervor, his hand sliding behind your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His pulse was racing, heat surging through his veins, and he struggled to keep himself in check.

Your hands slid down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. You knew exactly what you were doing as your palm settled over the bulge in his jeans, giving it a playful squeeze.

He let out a strangled sound, his body reacting instinctively, and you pulled back just enough to whisper, “I might’ve had a crush on you back when I was too delusional to see you for who you really are, but at least I’m not the one sitting here, a 27-year-old guy, getting hard because he had to kiss his best friend’s baby sister during a game.”

The room erupted. Dennis and Joris were practically howling with laughter, clapping each other on the back. Gigi and Kika exchanged wide-eyed glances before bursting into giggles. Even Arthur had his head in his hands, laughing despite himself.

Charles, on the other hand, looked utterly mortified. His face was beet red, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words that wouldn’t come.

“Poor Charles,” Dennis teased, grinning wickedly. “Bet that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.”

Another wave of laughter erupted, leaving Charles sitting in stunned silence. Finally, Charles downed the rest of his drink in one go, standing abruptly. “I need air,” he muttered before making his way out of the room and into the garden.

He pushed open the glass doors that led to the terrace, the cool night air hitting his flushed face like a balm. The stars glittered overhead, but he barely noticed them as he sank into one of the patio chairs, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, his mind replaying the kiss over and over. He could still feel the ghost of your lips on his, the way your hand had trailed down his chest, resting on him with enough boldness to completely disarm him. And your words—sharp, cutting, and delivered with such venom—they were like a slap in the face.

He groaned softly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. What the hell had he been thinking, making that comment about you at sixteen? He’d known it was cruel the second the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself. His insecurities, his regret, his jealousy—it all spilled out in the worst way possible.

The sound of the sliding door opening made him glance up. Arthur stepped out, holding two fresh beers in his hands. Without a word, he handed one to Charles and took the seat next to him.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the distant crash of waves and the faint hum of cicadas. Finally, Arthur broke the quiet.

“You’re a dickhead,” he said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his beer.

Charles let out a humorless laugh, nodding slightly. “I know.”

Arthur turned to him, his expression softening slightly. “That comment, mate—it was out of line. You really hurt her with that one.”

Charles sighed, staring at the bottle in his hand. “I know,” he said again, his voice quieter this time. “I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was, and that’s the problem.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s just…” Charles paused, struggling to find the right words. “She makes me feel things I don’t know how to handle. And then when she said all that stuff about how she’d rather kiss a trash can or anyone else but me…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I just—reacted. Like an idiot.”

Arthur studied his brother for a moment before leaning back in his chair. “You know, it’s okay to feel things. But lashing out like that? That’s not how you handle it. You deserved what she did to you after that comment. Hell, if it were me, I’d have punched you.”

Charles chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well, she went for humiliation instead. And it worked.”

Arthur grinned. “Oh, it definitely worked. She got you good. But seriously, Charles, what’s your deal with her? One minute you’re at each other’s throats, and the next, you’re looking at her like…” He gestured vaguely, trying to find the right words.

Charles sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the sky. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “She gets under my skin. Always has. And for the longest time, I told myself it was just because she’s Pierre’s sister, and I shouldn’t feel anything for her.” He paused, his voice softening. “But I do. I have for a few years now.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re in love with her.”

Charles didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volumes.

Arthur let out a long breath, tapping the neck of his beer bottle thoughtfully. “You’ve got to stop letting that eat you alive, mate. Either you tell her how you feel, or you let it go. This whole act of yours, pretending you’re indifferent while secretly wanting her? It’s not working. It’s just making things worse—for both of you.”

“I know,” Charles said quietly. “But it’s not that simple. She hates me now. And maybe she has a reason to.”

Arthur gave him a pointed look. “She doesn’t hate you, Charles. She’s angry, sure. And maybe a bit hurt. But hate? No. If she really hated you, she wouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Charles frowned, replaying the kiss in his mind. The anger, the passion—it had been overwhelming, intoxicating. But there had been something else beneath it, something he couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted finally.

Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Start by apologizing. And I don’t mean a half-assed apology. Really apologize, Charles. Own up to your shit. Then maybe, just maybe, you can start fixing things.”

Charles nodded slowly, the weight of his brother’s words sinking in. He didn’t know if it was too late to fix things with you, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that it might not be.

------⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊⁺------

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prideprejudce · 10 months ago

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I think alot more people would enjoy the show if they learned to see Rhaenyra and Alicent as Unreliable Narrators, and characters who are supposed to have glaring flaws and weaknesses.

Mandatory preface- There are Issues™️ with season 2 that are its own other ask- but the complaints ive seen about character assassination on both women kind of tells me ppl just wanted to see the two just GirlBossing around, not being tragic characters trapped in their own circumstances.

For Alicent specifically- she just isn't written to be Cersei 2.0, and while it was really interesting to see motherhood from cersei's point of view, its already been done!! I actually prefer seeing Alicent's mercurial clinging to and abandoning motherhood- its interesting!! She was made a mother at what- 15? An age where you truly arent mentally developed enough to raise 3 kids, AND be a child bride, AND be a queen, (AND be a lesbian).

Alicent is interesting to me because she's stunted at 15 years old, she's an adult woman who talks to and sometimes bullies her kids as if they are her peers, and is obsessed with her childhood crush(es). She hasn't built any new relationships* past the ones she was entangled with as a teenager, she's obsessed with both acting out to make SOMEONE see that shes suffering, (she's honestly pretty blatant for someone who prides themselves on being the Temperate Voice of Reason) but also to erase herself and reset to before she had to marry the king, before aemma died.

I think most of her 'bad out of character' decisions are just these two impulses winning out, her trying to force a reset, go back to a time where none of this had happened yet, when things were simpler and she had love and every day wasn't the worst day of her life™️.

She sleeps with cole, the man she thought was pretty at 15 (her last uncomplicated attraction just before it all went wrong and aemma died) -she doesnt seem to like it that much, but she does seem compelled to seek him out, esp when upset- shes obsessed with, and desperate to reconnect with Rhaenyra, her childhood best friend (and first love) and get back to where they were as kids, AND she still treats and asks her father for absolution as if he's still the only authority that matters to her just like she did at 15. Alot of her 'victim complex/bewildered they took it so far' behaviour in the plotting of rhaenyra's usurption reads to me like a teenager in over her head, she talked big game and now its real and shes panicking!! She's tragic BECAUSE she's still a teenager- so stunted shes unable to meaningfully grow up and learn to make healthier choices for herself, or move on and stop trying to grasp at the 'if i could just go back' urge.

As a mother, I think this creates an interesting dynamic as well, and I do like that in the casting even, she seems closer in age to her kids than rhaenyra does to hers. I think the contrast ppl are drawing with Alicent Protecting Her Kids in season1 compared to her giving them up in season two isn't bad writing to me, just massive differences in context. Sure she protected Aemond in driftmark, but we cant ignore that she probably felt humiliated by her husband choosing rhaenyra's side over hers in front of everyone, did it seem like a grown woman fighting for her son?? or a teenager furious with her ex winning one over her again? or both!! both sides twisted together is still interesting! When she protected Aegon from Rhaenys, is stepping in front of her son the king to protect him from the enemies dragon fire not the most romantic daydream of a deserving death a child bride could come up with?? Was it the impulse to protect the son she couldnt decide if she loved or hated, or was it to have the most heroic death possible to escape the reality that she sees coming. And if Rhaenyra hears about how Brave she was in the face of a dragons maw, and cries about it forever and feels sooo bad and regrets it til the day she dies, thats an added bonus. I think Alicent loves her kids, but is teenager selfish about HOW she loves and protects her kids, and is unable to be a mature, consistant, protective mother to them when she also sees them as having ruined her life. I think in season 2 when she 'gives them up' shes relieved, and once again following the compulsion of 'if i reset to when Rhaenyra was heir, i had no sons, and i wasn't married or queen, everything will be better'. I think theres complexity to it, i think she does love her sons and feels insane about it, but I think Alicent has been trying to Go Back in more and more Intense ways ever since she got married, and we might be giving her sanity more credit than it deserves when it comes to the need to wipe the board clean and go back to being 15.

hey anon are you trying to get married to me or what

#answered #anonymous #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenicent #alicent hightower #EXCELLENT EXCELLENT EXCELLENT #every time we remember that alicent is a stunted teenager who married a man twice her age another angel gets its wings #even rhaenyra is nowhere NEAR as stunted as alicent who was popping babies at 15 #her relationship switches from protecting mother to a sneering older sister to HER OWN KIDS #because shes emotionally stuck at the age her life went to complete hell #thanks again otto for the lifelong trauma

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luveline · 2 years ago

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If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white.

"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?"

Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says.

Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?"

"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern.

Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through.

"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?"

"Spencer!"

Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you so much."

Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?"

Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks.

"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!"

"I can tell."

"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin.

Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation.

"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.

Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated.

He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic."

"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.

"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?"

"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too."

"She's making toast or something."

"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas."

"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear."

Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.

"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache."

"It makes me miss you," you whine.

He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?"

"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to."

"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's."

"Exactly!"

You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of.

A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks.

Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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oraltraditionfiction · 4 months ago

Text

Us | QH43

Quinn Hughes x f! reader (angst)

Summary: Snippets of you and Quinn's secret relationship, and the aftermath.

Warnings: angst, hurt with no comfort, ambiguous ending, sad Quinn, anxious reader etc

WC: 1.8k

Author's Note: !!! This is fully inspired by us by Gracie Abrams (which has been on repeat for like. 4 days now. absolute banger.) This is pretty angsty 😭 I apologize in advance I think I was just really in the mood for some pain.

This has an ambiguous ending (for the most part) but I do have an idea for a part 2 if anyone is interested! Anyways, enjoy! - 🐇

(I'd also like to note that the italicized poetry is taken from Crush by Richard Siken, and Leaping Poetry by Robert Bly!)

I know your ghost, I see her through the smoke, She'll play her show

And you'll be watchin'

He caught himself watching you again. It had been habit for so long now. Checking on her from the corner of his eye. He had learned to act in such a way that it was hard to tell he was stealing a glance at her. Her. He needed to snap out of it.

He looked straight ahead, steadfast in his resolution to break old patterns. He could hear her from the end of the hall. She was briefing one of his teammates on the video they were about to film.

“I know this is hard but please try not to swear, at least not too much. The timbre of her laugh, echoing down the hall. Quinn knew without looking at her that she was checking her phone. Her disorganized notes app, full of spare ideas for videos and poems that came to her during the twilight hours. “Oh! I know this is obvious but, try not to talk about anything personal that you or a teammate wouldn’t want 400 teenagers online to know.” He watched from lowered lids as she brushed past him, a slight hesitation in her steps as her shoulder brushed against him. “That stuff’s just hard to edit out-“ her voice trailed off as they turned a corner. The reverb of her warm murmur echoing back to him, taunting him. He just knew she was reminding Brock not to talk about anything personal because of him.

He scuffed his covered skate against the worn floor. Tilting his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes, and imagined that he was waiting for her to walk with him, instead of someone else.

Wonder if you regret the secret

Of us, us

He could remember the first wrong turn.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell anyone?” He had asked, confused, thumb stroking against her pulse point soothingly as she cradled his face.

“Quinn…” she had sighed, suddenly looking so small and vulnerable sitting on her old patterned couch. He kissed her palm, a small comfort.

“I mean, you’ve seen the weird shit people can comment about the wags.” He nodded. “Imagine just seeing that all day. All that negativity. And it’s just your job to navigate that and delete it. I’ve seen awful things about some of these women.” She swallowed, slipping her hand away from his cheek. He missed the warmth immediately, absently leaning into her orbit to make up for it. “I just,.. I don’t know what I would do. Knowing that people were saying those things about me.”

Quinn understood. Honestly the thought of seeing those kinds of things said about her…

Yeah. He could keep a secret for a few more months.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Quinn said, folding her into his arms. “We can keep it quiet for a little bit longer. Just until you’re comfortable.” He could feel her melt into him, relaxing at his agreement. Once she was more comfortable with the idea of them, he thought she wouldn’t mind what people would say.

It felt like what I've known

You're twenty-nine years old

So how can you be cold when I open my home?

Quinn placed the last box on the bedroom floor, lovingly labeled “poetry <3”. As he gingerly cut through the packing tape, he heard a gentle knock on the door.

“You don’t need to knock,” he laughed, turning his head so he could look at her.

“I mean, it’s your house still-“ she said, anxiously shifting her weight from side to side. Quinn stood, fondly shaking his head as he approached her.

“Your house too now, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping his arms around his girl, and swaying from side to side.

“I just don’t want it to be too soon Quinn. It’s only been like, a year.” Shesaid, tense in his arms.

“Mi casa es tu casa, right?” he said jokingly, trying to get the woman in his arms to relax.

She laughed, encapsulating the room in warmth again. They melted into each other, the tension evaporating. “I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable, Quinny.” Murmured softly into his shoulder.

Quinn hugged her tighter, trying to forge them together, “you could never make me uncomfortable,” he said as he placed his cheek atop her head. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.” And as he said that to her, he knew it to be true. This love was different, quiet— almost sacred.

And if history's clear, the flames always end up in ashes

And what seemed like fate

Give it ten months and you'll be past it (you'll be past it)

He knew it had to move at some point. Every morning it confronted him, like a ghoul living in his sock drawer. Quinn reached for the intruder, thumb brushing against delicate blue velvet as he withdrew the small ring box from its hiding place. The man sighed as he flipped it open once again. The light reflecting off of the diamond and shining small, nebulous glimmers of light across his tired face.

A click as he closed the box, the sound of a sharp thump. The little blue box landed somewhere amongst the debris on your abandoned side of the closet. It had been nearly 10 months. Out of sight, out of mind.

That night you were talkin'

False prophets and profits

They make in the margins

Of poetry sonnets

Quinn watched, transfixed as you read aloud to him. His head sat heavily on her thighs, savoring the feeling of her hand touching his hair absentmindedly. The words nearly escaped him, too immersed in the way her sweet lips shaped the words. Nectar falling from her mouth as she kept the meter.

“I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want.

You said Tell me about your books, your visions made of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube... We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so I said What do you want, sweetheart? and you said-“

“Marry me.”

It was spoken on the breath of a sigh. Nearly inaudible. Still, the room seemed to lose some of its color.

“What?” You whispered, hand withdrawing from his hair, leaving an inexplicable dread lingering around his heart.

Quinn sat up, nose brushing hers. “I meant it.” He reached for her hand, shaking and limp in her lap. “Marry me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He breathed out as he looked into her eyes earnestly.

“I-“

“I know you’re scared. And I know you don’t want anyone to know about us.” The man said, placing her hand on his heart, cradling it gently. “But I don’t care! I would marry you right this second if I could.” He leaned his forehead against her temple, murmuring “just you and me, baby. No one has to know. I would marry you in secret, as long as it means you’re mine.” Quinn was rambling now, but he’d do anything to convince her. “I already have a ring and-“

His hand landed unceremoniously in his lap.

Before he could reach out, before he could even breathe, she slipped out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry.”

And Quinn felt like he would never breathe again, staring across the room at his sock drawer and the now open door to what was once their bedroom.

Robert Bly on my nightstand

Gifts from you, how ironic

Three drinks in, and Quinn was conquering his fears. There was 11 months of dust buildup on the slim book, still clinging to the paperback cover. He thumbed it open, nearly caving in and going back for another drink as he glimpsed the tail end of the note you had left for him underneath the title page.

“- hoping these poems will remind you of me when we’re apart.

Love you lots,

Yours-“

He flipped to another page, hoping to find something he hated enough that he could find the strength to finally throw this book out.

“Longing to find her in a phrase, and be close-“

Quinn closed the book.

Mistaken for strangers, the way it

Was, was

The moment he was dreading was here. You approached him after practice, quietly waiting for the rest of the team to file past. You toyed with your phone anxiously, “Is it alright if I grab you for a quick video?” She looked as tired as he felt these days. He just stood, gazing at her, responding with a slow nod. She smiled, relieved. Quinn had almost forgotten what it looked like in person. Still a such a sweet sight.

He leaned in slightly, irresistant to the gravity of your presence. As you opened your mouth to speak, lips quirked up into a private grin, a voice came from behind him.

One of the new girls on the social media team. She smiled as she approached. “I didn't realise you two were close! Guess it’s something to look forward to, huh?”

You forced a laugh saying, “Well, when you work with someone for two years, you get about as close as coworkers can get.”

Quinn’s spine straightened, in no mood for media duties now. He thought of the ring box, and all the photos he still had yet to delete. The stolen kisses in supply closets, the notes you left him in the margins of your favorite poetry books, highlighting secret code in between the stanzas

(“O love, where are you leading me now?”). The words of her favorite poem echoed in his head, “As close as coworkers can get”

He mumbled something about putting his gear away as he brushed past you, no longer recognizing the foreign way your shoulder bumped against his.

Do you miss us, us? (Us, us, us)

The best kind, well, sometimes

Do you miss us?

He stood, leaning against his counter, trying to decide the best way to respond to this text.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the cardboard box full of miscellaneous objects to donate, the creased cover of a poetry book peaking out.

He made his decision.

A blind date sounds great! Is she free Friday?

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lime-sketches114 · 1 year ago

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Hello I would like to request something. How eould Sephiroth act when he has a crush on someone? Idc if it's post-Nibelheim or while he's still a Soldier. I leave that up to you. Thank you so much if you do this and have a wonderful day :3

Great question Le Anonymous! This is similar to what I thought for my Ravenroth ship (maybe?) BUT this topic is cute nonetheless. I might just do both ideas! Hope you like these headcanons!

SEPHIROTH CRUSH HEADCANONS

PRE-NIBELHEIM

Sephiroth as a SOLDIER he never really had romantic feelings, even as a teenager. Once he became more of an adult that's when his tables turned.

He would get flustered when Genesis or Angeal made a joke about the person Sephiroth liked. But he hid it well but you could see pink dust on his cheeks. He'd get confused about butterflies in his stomach and why they were there.

As he explores his feelings more, he tries to be braver around his special someone. When he eventually asked them on a date on his free time he was happy. He shined that shy smile of his. He took them to a fancy restaurant and bought them flowers or a little gift for a start. He's a good listener and would mostly let his date take charge of small talk if they were brave, if not he would.

He might take them on a walk or shopping on the next few dates. He has a lot of money to burn! As the relationship progressed he'd eventually confess his attraction. He's still new to all this lovey dovey crap so it'll be a slow start but with the help of his partner he would be just fine and even start to be very romantic on occasion.

Genesis and Angeal would absolutely still tease him about his romantic efforts and Genesis would try and coach him to the behest of Sephiroth's will. Angeal would just tell Sephiroth to be himself and be more gentleman-like and uphold honor in his word. He loves his friends' efforts but he's already had Genesis talk his ear off about Loveless references...Angeal is more tolerable.

Yes Zack would absolutely have his jaw hit the dang floor about hearing about ALL of this and how Sephiroth has a partner. Zack just can't help not hiding his puppy-like wonder.

Sephiroth talks about his mother a lot with their partner. If his partner was willing to research more about if his mother was truly dead or not AND found the truth then you bet your bottom gil he would try and find his real mother and bring justice to Hojo.

POST-NIBELHEIM

Good lawd where to start....

Ok! With Sephiroth off his rocker bc of everything that's happened. Things would be different and difficult to comprehend.

If Sephiroth still had his partner before he went bonkers he would ABSOLUTELY try and keep them with him at all costs. He still loves them but it's slowly creeping into bad territory. If he did not have a partner beforehand he would kinda stalk them like he does Cloud. Leave flowers and candy and whatever else on their doorstep. Then it turns into jewelry or expensive items. Then himself out of the blue.

It creeps the partner out but the love is still there. His good looks and charm works wonders. They try and figure out what went wrong with him. Maybe they try and reverse what happened if they're more than just a normal person. Magic can only go so far.

If their efforts are fruitful then he slowly reverses back to his old self just a bit but can't quite shake off Jenova unless someone destroys her. He also finds out about his real mother. He would search for her with them.

If it was in vain then he would be angered fairly easily. Trying to turn them into more like him or be more loyal or obey him. Regardless if he still had love in his heart.

Sometimes at night, you can hear cries...but from who is up to the mind's desire...

#fanfic #ff7 crisis core #ff7 x reader #ff7 rebirth #ff7 remake #ff7 sephiroth #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth #thanks for the ask!#thanks anon!#final fantsy vii #final fantasy #final fantasy 7 #headcanon #final fantasy 7 headcanon #sephiroth headcanons

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thepeaklegendoffirstgen · 27 days ago

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Okay, hear me out (I know this might be controversial but still…) I love both James and Jaegyeon but they are fundamentally different as lovers. Here’s my no-sugarcoating, brutally honest two cents on how each of them would be in a relationship:

Jaegyeon:He comes off like a total bitch on the surface, but deep down? He’s a devastatingly soft, pining, and hopelessly devoted puppy. At first, he won’t act gentlemanly—nope, not even close. Especially during his current blonde era, he gives off that annoying energy of guys who watch YouTube videos about how they're "too tough" to need a girl. But plot twist? He has a massive crush on that one girl who shows up at the same petrol pump as him.He’ll pursue you, but in an incredibly tsundere way. Like:

“Why are you even talking to that guy? He’s totally going to break your heart.”

“And why do you care, Mr. Na?”

Rough around the edges? No—very rough. But gradually, once you start noticing the little things he does—like letting you into his car even though it just came out of service, stocking your favorite drinks just in case, or quietly dropping you home—you realize there’s a tenderness there. He’s not bad. Not at all.

Once you’re actually in a relationship, though? Don’t expect roses and candlelit dinners. Sorry—no flowers and cheesy stuff. Fights will happen. Screaming, shouting—you name it. But in the middle of it all, he’ll catch himself, stop, and try to pull you into a cuddle. Still, he’ll give you space when needed… albeit very, very reluctantly.

You can be completely silly with him too—he’s totally down for theme parks, cat cafés, and dancing in the rain.

Now the not-so-pretty part: If you guys ever break up, he will let you go. Not in a “get lost, I’m better off” kind of way, but because he loves you too much to keep hurting you. His maturity will come through here. It’ll hurt—a lot. He’ll be a mess after the breakup. Jealous if you move on. But eventually, when he sees you smile genuinely after a long time, that aching part of him will finally let go.

Now to ......

James: Let’s skip teenage James for now (that deserves a whole other conversation) and talk about adult James—both when he was an idol and now as he is.

When he was still in the industry and you two were together, he wouldn’t even look at anyone from the entertainment world. Not because you were some “special princess” above actresses or models—no. It’s just that the risk was far greater. He already had Charles breathing down his neck, and a relationship with someone inside the industry would be much harder to hide. So weighing on the scale of vulnerability, dating someone outside, someone “normal,” was easier to conceal, protect, and cherish.

That said, James will be a gentleman. Gallant, suave, respectful—he treats you like a lady.But he’ll make it up to you with luxury—gifts, trips, anything you want—except his time.

Even in arguments, he won’t raise his voice. He’ll stay calm and composed. He’s the type who’ll quietly keep track of your preferences, your quirks, your dreams—you’ll feel like the one person in the world he truly sees. And you are. You’re the tiny corner of his heart he protects at all costs.

So what could go wrong, right?

Here’s where it gets dark : At his core, James is a manipulator. He’s soft on the surface but harbors a cold, calculating fury beneath. During fights, he won’t scream—but the words he says will sting deeper than any shout. “Sorry” won’t fix the wounds he leaves behind.

He’ll say: “You don’t need to know everything, sweetheart. I’ve already taken care of it.”

He always thinks he knows best. And when your relationship teeters on the edge, and you want to leave?

He. Won’t. Let. You.

You’re his. The only one who’s ever held his heart—and he expects you to cherish that privilege.

Who are you going to leave me for? Who could possibly compare to "James Lee" or "Diego Kang"—for the world?

He has the looks, the money, the power. And if you try to walk away? He’ll make it painfully hard. You’ll suddenly realize what it feels like to pry something from a lion’s mouth.

Now, I’m not saying he’s some yandere (ew, please no—I hate that trope). But in my interpretation, this is just how things would unfold.

To wrap it up: Being with Jaegyeon is chaotic, rough, and emotionally intense—but the guy’s got the right heart.Being with James? It’s a dream… until it’s not. And if you ever try to end things, be prepared: leaving James Lee is not something anyone does easily.

#lookism #lookism x reader #james lee #kang dagyeom #lee jihoon #dg #james lee x reader #jaegyeon na #jaegyeon na x reader

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homoquartz · 20 days ago

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This isn't meant to be antagonistic, I'm genuinely curious. What makes you perceive Edwin (and Charles) as a teenager? I've always thought of him as an adult since he's a 124 year old soul who's been on Earth for 50ish years, and he doesn't really act like a child imo. Just curious why you think it because alternate viewpoint is Interesting

this question is funny to me because i’m incapable of reading edwin and charles as anything other than teenage boys. true their actors look much older though. we all have our own ways of viewing things!

sorry for the long post:

to start, they call themselves boys - not just dead boy detectives, but edwin calls himself a boy directly when talking about monty. textually, they’re children, as identified by the night nurse and lost and found department. she calls them children and they don’t argue. i THINK one of the boys refers to crystal as being “our age” but i could be wrong on that. the cat king also makes a comment about being “older” than edwin.

there’s also their personal arcs. charles is coping with the fact that he will never “grow up.” he is terrified of becoming someone like his dad, so he desperately gloms onto the two dead high school bullies, whom he closely identifies with. he also identifies strongly with the devlin kids. he flirts awkwardly with girls and makes bad jokes.

meanwhile edwin is discovering his sexuality (a classic teenager storyline), having first kisses, and making friends with kids his own age. he watches cartoons with niko and sits on swing sets with monty.

they also just act like teenagers to me, personally. they mouth off, they’re dramatic, they daydream about crushes, they just want a hug, they’re guessing at everything most of the time, they’re goofing around with magical objects. charles can’t talk about kissing or sex without stage whispering and using slang to avoid saying it outright. they date other teenagers, which would be Very Creepy if either of them were older than the day they died, emotionally. they collect toys and children’s mystery book series. edwin wears his school uniform.

to me, there’s an element of play acting when it comes to their detective personas. they take on the identity wholeheartedly as more than just a job or a skillset, but who they are. it reads to me as similar to how kids view professionals like teachers, astronauts, and firefighters as being avatars of their jobs. that’s just my personal reading on that one, though.

on a similar note, i think simon gives us a good vantage point into their emotional stagnation. in simon’s hell, he never progresses past being a schoolboy, afraid of getting in trouble, doodling hearts in his textbooks - but he’s been around just as long as edwin has.

finally, a huge part of their tragedy for me is that they died so young. that loss means little if they can continue to mature after death. that they are trapped as they were, just frightened kids, watching the world move on without them, makes their story all the more poignant.

anyway, that’s my take!

#dead boy detectives

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boylied · 2 months ago

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Animorphs Reread- The Message

I've been sick all week, but Cassie is here to heal me. Let's get into it.

These early books all do a great job of showing us what the kids would prioritize their powers for without the war. Rachel and Tobias become ecoterrorists. And Cassie investigates what's been eating her animals.

Also the first sign of Cassie having Magical Powers.

I don't know how much time has passed since book 3, but i love that Cassie and Tobias are all jokes now about him eating live rodents.

"I would be glad to give him a picture of me in a dress or something" -GIRL PLEASE

I know that the group (esp Rachel) can get antagonistic with Marco, but we have to give it to him here. He didn't get overly defensive or combative. He knows why they're acting this way towards him. And he just comes out and reassures them that he's on their side.

And the yeerks begin to suspect that the "Andalite Bandits" might actually be humans. I forgot that it was brought up this early in the series. Because these kids were thoughtful, but early on they really weren't as careful as they should have been. Truly the only reason their secret went on for so long was that no one was brave enough to tell Visser 3 he might be wrong.

As a kid I always had more of a crush on Marco. But the way Cassie talks about Jake? I get it girl. 13 year olds are swooning.

Wait. This farm has been in your family since the Civil War? Putting aside the theory that these kids are somewhere in California (not canon. i get it). You're telling me that this Farm has been in Cassie's African American family since the American CIVIL WAR??? Sure, Let's not explain further.

Cassie's book is also the first time we get the dialogue over the ethics of morphing. I understand some of the hate Cassie gets, but honestly, when people complain about her always talking ethics? Get over it. It's a good thing. These are middle schoolers. The fact that they're having discussions over the ethics of taking animal dna, cloning that animal, and then mind controlling it? And then the variances depending on which animal/their intelligence level/asking consent? We should want our kids talking about this kind of thing.

"We can all morph fine" -oh the humility. a humble queen. but no Cassie. You are an artist sculpting a beautiful pot, and the others are kindergarteners smashing clay into makeshift ashtrays that their parents won't use.

It's bittersweet how these kids only get to act like kids by giving in to the dolphin mind.

Hold up, THIS is when they think of using the morphing power to heal? I guess it is? Their missions so far have been failures, but they haven't involved near death injuries. This is a bizarre realization.

I really love this moment between Cassie and Marco. Cassie is often portrayed as this wise earth mother type. But here we get to see that this is a major growing up moment for her. She needs to start making active decisions, and not just letting other people take responsibility. The war makes this transition a bit more life and death than most teenagers get, but still necessary.

This plan! This is the one. They're finally being smart about this. Morphing gulls to get a ride on a ship? Resting before going dolphin? They're finally thinking strategically.

Ax's introduction is just so beautiful. He's a child, raised by a militaristic education system during wartime. And now he's alone and afraid and trying very desperately to impress and assess these aliens who in a matter of minutes have just told him that his older brother (the War Hero) has broken their most sacred laws and was murdered by Visser 3.

This is also the first time we hear the black and white version of the andalites vs yeerks. I know that the truth is much more complicated than what Ax is saying. But right now, it's just a group of kids talking. One side is fighting to save others. One is fighting to destroy others.

And there we have it. The team is all together finally. A lot of firsts in this book that I had forgotten about. I'm excited to re-experience these kids integrating Ax into the group. Also, grateful for magic talking whales.

#animorphs book club #cassie #jake berenson #marco #rachel berenson #tobias #aximili esgarrouth isthill #4

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wlntrsldler · 1 year ago

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poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!

series masterlist | previous | next

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low

all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that.

sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it.

maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt.

but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons.

luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence.

on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs.

he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were.

he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall.

“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.”

“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.”

“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.”

“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.”

mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything.

you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?”

it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell?

with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.”

“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.”

you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings.

you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all.

after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke.

clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space.

she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances.

you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket.

“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?”

“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.”

you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.”

“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”

“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.”

“i don’t think you should.”

it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you.

“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?”

“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.”

“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.”

he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.”

“me too.”

“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.”

“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?”

luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.”

you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.

luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”

you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, “you think my dad could forgive me for this?”

“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?”

“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.”

“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.”

you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.”

luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.”

“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.”

the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string.

“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.”

“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.”

“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you.

“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”

“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”

luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words.

“aγάπη χωρίς πείσματα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”

“what does it mean?”

“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”

luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.”

“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”

“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight.

“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–”

he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you.

is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you?

the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood.

luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.”

an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern.

“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?”

you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic

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