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kiwibirdlafayette · 9 months

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chaos and balance- the capsize

"i don't think you understand what's actually happening here. If you'd just open your bloody fucking eyes, it's pretty obvious."

Chaos and Balance is a narrative playlist that basically comprises, in a chronological order, my headcanon for the progression of cTom Syndicate and cJordan's relationship through the course of S1, S2, the divorce arc (post-canon part 1), Mianitian Isles and the Aftermath (post-canon part 2, aka Gays on A Boat, Aitheaca, etc.) It started mainly because I really love the potential of using music to tell stories, and how lyrics can be representative of feelings seldom expressed any other way- based on both canon moments, moments I've interpreted as significant to their relationship/overall arcs, and little interludes I've written that take place in between episodes/"off camera" that connect things together in my head. All this being said, it is primarily headcanons, and is purely for fun. dont like dont read lmao

This specific being how keeping in the canon nonsense of capsize x jordan plays a role in cSyndisparklez from my pov :] enjoy!

(Red lyrics are representative of Jordan’s voice, green is Tom! Bolded black is both of them)

The shenanigans of Capsize happen just after falling for the villain,

in which Jordan is forced internally for the first time to come to terms with the fact that yes, he is in love with his friend/enemy/however you wanna put it. Despite how much he annoys him, despite all of his questionable behavior, despite it all, he has fallen head over heels for this absolute bastard of a man, and hates to admit it, but deep down has longed for a kind of affection that he could have.

I'll take my timeI'm not the forward thinker; you read my mind-

But a part of him still remains hesitant, and for one reason or another, refuses to give in, to openly admit it to not just others but himself. It’s at this point (I’ve written in) that Tom’s kissed him twice. The first, just a little peck on the lips he was able to brush off as a joke, just a hahaa ok cool bro that's funny. But the second time, as a cheap play by the zombie to get a purge kill having already caught the Ianitee off guard. It's irritating for sure, to have him weasel his way into free points by taking advantage of a distraction that worked a little too well, but why could he not get it out of his head? It hadn’t felt so wrong, actually, and… he had almost hoped it had been genuine. If it had been genuine, maybe he would have returned the gesture.

Better to leave it unsaidWhy can't I leave it unsaid

Instead they dance around it in banter, blathering on and on to one another in often complete nonsense, refusing to address what’s really on his mind. (You know I talk too much) He could confess, sure. But what happens then? All the meanwhile, Tom is scared he’s losing him. (As I hold your face, I can't find the words I need, and soon the opportunity is drowning)

Never someone all that good with words, he kind of hopes that Jordan will catch on. He has to catch on, sooner or later.. Right?Z

And then Capsize and the Ianitee pirates show up. To Jordan, it seems like she’s interested in him beyond him just being another follower of Ianite, and there’s his escape. Play along, play the part and maybe- maybe he’ll get over this.

You know my type, tightrope across the table I can't keep holding my breath

She seems to be into it. She’s responding to his flirting at least. See. He doesn’t need Tom. An Ianitee and another Ianitee seems more acceptable to him in his head, and maybe would be easier. That about, he’s not really sure.

New wave, no time Red velvet under pressure

But what Jordan does know is that he’s drawn to her. To him, it could be a way to forget about Tom. To the varied onlooker, it could just be that he’s happy to have another Ianitee around. Someone who can relate to his experience, someone who’s out to find their goddess just as much as he wants to. But he continues to conflate the two and pursue her in a way that he won’t realize for years is less than ideal.

It sparks my memory when we parked aside the shore, I kissed you there, the ocean air enchanting It escapes me quickly

Tom on the other hand, is for lack of a better word furious. Not in like a “I’m gonna murder this pirate captain for stealing my man” (because if he’s honest she’s one of the coolest people he’s met and he’s gonna befriend her whether Jordan likes it or not, with him claiming it to be ‘Mr. steal your gal’ which is??? Because does it really seem like he wants Capsize, if not as a spiteful thing)

When Jordan’s not around, Tom and Capsize hit it off, as she finds this zombie who doesn’t want to flirt with her at any given moment a lot more of an interesting person. As a Dianitee, he’s supposed to be their enemy, but for someone so supposedly dedicated to his god, he knows how to carve his own path away from being more than his god’s messenger- something she’s always admired in champions.

You call me poison, but you won't stop coming around- No, you won't stop coming around

For the purpose of perhaps getting Jordan to get the hint, Tom plays into their supposed love triangle, pretending to do things to ‘steal away Capsize’, only feeding into Jordan’s confusion. *Now Tom’s interested in her too? Is he trying to move on from me too? *- clearly to dense to realize Tom’s trying to get his attention back. She even admits to Tom that it's amusing that men seem to keep coming after her, when she’s very much more into women (abridged, but direct quote)

All I want is you- Your violet disposition, My unsound intuition

It all sort of culminates in that moment on Jordan’s ship where Tom, annoyed from his perch, watches his friend make an absolute fool of himself over Capsize, and decides to intervene, taking on the role of “fighting” Jordan over her. Capsize in a way is having a good laugh watching them roll around on the deck of the ship (I’ve drawn this, this is where it all started), starting to see it all sort of come together as to where Jordan could be coming from. At some point, Tom’s got Jordan pinned to the deck, and as one last desperate attempt at trying to communicate what he’s been trying to all along, he kisses Jordan, and much to his surprise, he kisses him back. They pull away, to Capsize’s approving nods, and it's all over.

(Jordan’s attempts at saving this are my interpretation of this conversation, aka one of my favorite chat threads of S1)

In the aftermath of all of that (If I had any semblance of a memory I’d pinpoint when exactly this interlude takes place, but im just ballparking it somewhere after Jordan dies in Tom’s vault bc Capsize doesn’t save him); in which he’s still thinking about what happened that day. Jordan reluctantly confronts Tom who spills it all. He tells him how much and how long he’s been in love with him, and how frustrated it made him that every time he kissed Jordan, Jordan never seemed to reciprocate no matter how obvious his feelings were. He’s tried so hard to make it clear that all he wants is Jordan, he wants to be loved back, he wants to be able to call him his lover. He did what he did in front of Capsize cause the fake ass courting set him over the edge because it pissed him off that Jordan would so quickly go after someone he just met just because she was an Ianitee or whatever to get away from him, because was he really that bad that Jordan had to try to hard to stay away from him? Tom knows he had himself to blame as well, but it felt like a step too far.

Always been looking for something to lose, when I needed something to hold onto.

(This sequence is followed by Pull Me Up, which. If you haven’t seen my CMV that’s the one xD)

Note. For my sanity I choose to perceive that any capsize x jordan moments following are more related to Jordan’s ‘holiest of all Ianitees’ attitude and feeling like he has to be her savior (which is a different aspect of his character arc from the romantic side, which is what I mostly wanted to focus on with this ramble, but i do touch on it a little. It's not as ever present as it could be because I haven’t found the right song to incorporate it into outside of Violet and Talk Too Much) But there is definitely more. This is from what i have notated in my stuff for these two sequences :] enjoy!

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

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I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

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leclerc-hs · 2 months

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73 Questions with Mrs. Leclerc - cl16

pairing: husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you do a 73 questions interview with Vogue OR charles can't help but third wheel your interview warnings: none??? just cute fluff basically, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 2.1k author's note: I actually got a request by someone to do this and thought it was such a CUTE idea and concept. I obviously didn't do ALL 73 questions cause that would've taken forever. But thought this was a cute little piece to do. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think don't be shy !! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE DELICATE FOLDS of the pale pink sundress fluttered like petals in a gentle breeze, framing your figure with a soft, ethereal elegance. As the front door yielded to the push, the fabric danced around your legs, caressing the tender skin of your thighs with a whisper of touch. Your radiant smile illuminated the scene, a beacon of joy amidst the fluttering fabric and nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” The male voice chimed brightly, his tone cheerful as a songbird greeting the dawn, echoing through the air with an infectious energy that mirrored your own bright smile.

“Hey!” You respond with effervescent warmth, your smile stretching across your face like a sunbeam breaking through clouds. With a graceful gesture, you swing the door open wider, revealing the inviting warmth of your home’s foyer. The soft light spills in, casting a golden glow over the polished floors and elegant furnishing. The first thing to notice is the giant painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, hung high above the entry way table.

“Look who we have here! It’s Mrs. Leclerc!” A delicate blush warms your cheeks, a subtle reminder of the tender affection that tingles within you whenever you’re addressed as such. Though you and Charles have been together for many years, your marriage has infused your relationship with a fresh sense of intimacy and closeness. And despite that it’s been almost five years, the title of “wife” feels forever new and unfamiliar.

“On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“I would say 8, so I’m super excited!” With a gentle click, you shut the front door behind you, enveloping the foyer in a tranquility as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen. Along the way, you stooped to pick up a scattering of children’s toys that lay scattered like confetti on the polished wooden floors, offering a quick apology for the perceived “mess.” However, you couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the orchestrated chaos around you. While the house was meticulously maintained by the cleaning company before the video shoot, every detail was carefully curated to strike the perfect balance between lived-in warmth and elegance, ensuring a setting that felt both inviting and authentic to you and the viewers.

“Any reason for that?”

In the heart of the home lies a kitchen adorned with a stunning green cabinet motif. The cabinets, painted in a rich emerald hue, exude an air of sophistication and charm, perfectly complemented by gleaming brass hardware. Sunlight filters through the vast array of windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble countertops.

“You mean other than the fact that the kids go back to school soon?” You and the interviewer let out a soft laugh as you made your way behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge in a smooth motion to pull out a water bottle. “Want one?”

“No, but thanks though!” His voice is light-hearted.

As the fridge door remains open, a tantalizing glimpse is offered to the audience of its well-stocked interior. A colorful array of fresh produce fills the shelves, showing an abundance of vibrant fruits and crisp vegetables. Among the healthy offerings, assortment of juice boxes catches the eye, adding a playful touch to the wholesome scene.

“That’s a lot of juice boxes you have in there.” He makes a comment, it’s not a question, but you take it as one.

“Two kids and a husband,” You start, your tone light and casual before lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper for the camera, “who practically is also a kid, results in a lot of juice boxes.” With a playful wink directed at the lens, you punctuate the statement, adding a touch of humor to the scene. Setting the water bottle down on the expansive kitchen counter, you resume your easy demeanor, effortlessly blending candor and charm for your audience.

“Hey!” Your head shoots over, the camera seamlessly following your gaze to where Charles, your husband,sits on the floor of the living room, two of your kids, aged two and three, beside him with an abundance of toys strewn about. “I heard that!” Charles retorts with mock offense, a playful grin lighting up his face as he joins in the banter.

The living room exudes a chic sophistication with a distinct Formula One flair. Charcoal-gray walls provide a sleek backdrop, accentuating the mounted flat-screen television. A striking statement piece dominates one corner—a display of artwork showcasing all of the racetracks Charles has conquered – infusing the room with a sense of triumph and energy. A plush white sofa, adorned with an array of vibrant red pillows, invites relaxation and style. Across the room, a sizable shelf proudly showcases a collection of racing helmets, some belonging to Charles and others gathered over time, adding a personal touch to the space. Below the television, was a long console table that was adorned in various plants and photos of your family. You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced at them.

With a casual wave of your hand, you dismiss Charles’s playful interruption, maintaining your position at the kitchen island as the camera refocuses on you. The gesture carries an air of affectionate familiarity, a gentle reminder of the dynamic energy that permeates your bustling household.

“If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?”

“Definitely Austin Butler.” You answer almost immediately, no hesitance in your voice.

“Hey!” Charles’s playful yelp echoes through the room once more, accompanied by the joyful laughter of your children. One nestled in his lap, the other engrossed in a picture book, their presence adding warmth and vitality to the room. You share a knowing smile with Charles, the affectionate banter a familiar melody to your family life.

The laughter of the interviewer joins the playful exchange. The camera effortlessly captures the dynamic interaction between all of you with ease.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Restez en dehors de ça.” Stay out of this!

“Arrête de faire semblant de vouloir faire l’amour avec quelqu’un d’autre que moi!” Stop pretending you want to make love with anybody but me!

With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you turn back to the camera, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I change my answer?” You inquire, injecting a hint of playful anticipation into your tone.

“Sure,” the interviewer replies.

“You’re supposed to say no,” You quip with a chuckle.

“Oh, um no?”

With a playful pout, you glance over at Charles who is already staring at the interaction. A smile adorned on his face like he is in complete awe of you, regardless of what you are saying. “Sorry honey!” You wave your hand around. “Answers are final!”

Leaving the kitchen behind, you make your way towards the backyard, where the promise of relaxation and leisure awaits. Stepping through the door, you’re greeted by the sight of a large pool shimmering under the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters beckoning for a refreshing dip. Surrounding the pool, lounge chairs are strategically place, some on the pool’s ledge, inciting you to bask in the sun while enjoying the cool water. A wide arrangement of pool floaties from unicorns to racecars litter the pool as well.

It’s a breathtaking sight: a vast expanse of bright blue skies stretching overhead, adorned with barely a wisp of cloud in sight. The warm rays of sun dance upon your skin. With a stylish flourish, you slip on a pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, a subtle nod to your husband’s sunglass collection.

“Vintage or new?”

You ponder for a moment as you stand in the backyard, a breeze blowing your hair behind your shoulders. “Depends, but definitely vintage.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Aisle, although Charles likes to take the aisle more.”

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“Wait, do my children count as two of the three?”

“Up to you.”

“Okay, so my two children. And my lip gloss.” You laugh, pausing for effect. “Kidding! My two kids, and my lip gloss…” You pause, jokingly. “And my husband of course.” The light-hearted remark reflects the joyful chaos of humor and love in your life. “He’s really the sweetest man. I’m so lucky.”

The glass door slides open with a whisper, and into the frame steps Charles, his presence incessant. With a carefree demeanor, he approaches you clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretched at the seams from his muscles. He presses soft kisses to your cheeks, the stubble of his own rubbing against your smooth skin, his love evident in each tender kiss.

“Désolé,” Sorry. He apologizes before pecking another kiss to your cheek. “Tellement ambrassable.” Just so kissable. He places one more on your cheek, your face bright red from the camera’s catching all of this.

“Looks like he can’t be far from you for very long.”

Charles looks at the camera, a glint in his eye with a large smile, like he was the happiest man on earth, and nothing could dampen his spirits. Especially with you nearby. “Est-ce que tu la vois?” Do you see her?

The interviewer, unaware of Charles’s words, simply nods in response behind the camera lens, acknowledging the affection in his tone. Later translations will reveal the depth of Charles’s words no doubt. Elle est tellement belle. Bien sûr, je ne peux pas rester loin longtemps.” She’s so beautiful. Of course, I can’t stay far long.

Your face is bright red as Charles remains at your side.

“Where are the kids?”

“Put them down for a nap!” Charles answers, his arm slung over your shoulder as he leans on you comfortably.

As the interviewer continues the questionnaire, Charles can’t resist interjecting with playful remarks and comments on almost every question. His spontaneous interruptions add an element of humor and spontaneity to the video, turning what could have been a standard interview into an entertaining and engaging exchange.

“How do you define beauty?” “My wife.” “Charles, the questions are for me!”

"What do you love most about your body?" "That's an easy one...I think her--" Charles begins, but you swat his chest and cut him off. "I love my arms. Not because they're that nice but they give me the ability to hold my children." Charles clicks his tongue, hating that you even implied something about yourself as 'not that nice'.

"Least favorite color?" "Red." Charles lets out a large gasp with a string of phrases in French, clearly hurt by your response. "It's a joke, mon amour!" "How did you know you were in love?" You look at Charles then, his eyes already on you, a soft smile pulling on both of your lips. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with him. Probably when I realized I would rather be awake in the middle of the night, since he was traveling so much, just to talk to him for even a few minutes, instead of going to sleep." Charles plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers as he chimes in. "We've known each other for so long. But, when I first met her, it was like meeting someone I've known my entire life. There was no awkward silences between us. We just clicked."

“Diamonds or pearls?” “Pearls.” “Mon chou, don’t lie.” “I’m not!” “The diamond on your finger says otherwise!”

“If you made a documentary, what would it be about?” “Charles’ brain. I seriously question what goes on in there sometimes.” “Hey! It’s only you…” You raise your eyebrows at him, like he’s a liar. “And racing.” “Definitely racing.”

“If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Charles smirks deeply, like he knows something the world doesn’t, the interviewer picks up on it. “Wait, you have a tattoo? Can we see it?”

“No! It’s for me only.”

You playfully swat at Charles’ chest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks as you both wander throughout the house, showcasing its beautiful décor. Despite your embarrassment at Charles’ antics, you can’t help but be thankful for him easing your nerves. You weren’t one for the public eye, normally. So, when you agreed to this interview it came out as quite a surprise.

“Okay final question of the day.”

You both stand by the front door, the interviewer on the front step outside of the home.

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Definitely ki—” You don’t get to finish your answer as Charles’ fingers grasp onto your neck, his fingers sprawled along your jawline as well, and tugs your face into his. He shuts the door as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It’s a few seconds before you push him off you. “You’re unbelievable!”

A giant smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you. “Only for you, mon chou!”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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hayatheauthor · 11 months

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The Writer's Guide to Authentic Wounds and Fatalities

Writing fatal injuries in a story requires a delicate balance between realism and narrative impact. The portrayal of these life-altering events can evoke strong emotions in readers and shape the trajectory of your characters' journeys. In this blog, I will explore the intricacies of depicting fatal injuries in a manner that feels authentic, engaging, and respectful to the gravity of such circumstances. By understanding the nuances of fatal injuries, you will be equipped to craft compelling narratives that resonate with your readers.

Writing Fatal Injuries

When it comes to writing fatal injuries, it is crucial to approach the subject with care and accuracy. Fatal injuries carry immense consequences for your characters and can shape the trajectory of your story. By delving into the intricacies of portraying fatal injuries authentically, you can ensure that the gravity and impact of such events are effectively conveyed to your readers.

Choosing the right injuries for your story

Selecting the appropriate fatal injuries for your narrative involves considering various factors. Ask yourself: What purpose does this injury serve within the story? How does it affect the characters and the overall plot? Conduct thorough research to identify injuries that align with your story's context and resonate with the emotional journey of your characters.

For example, in a historical drama, you may research common fatal injuries during a particular era, such as battlefield injuries, diseases, or accidents prevalent at the time. In a crime thriller, you might explore the portrayal of fatal gunshot wounds or traumatic injuries resulting from violent encounters. By aligning the injuries with the context and themes of your story, you create a more immersive and believable experience for your readers.

Researching the mechanics of fatal injuries

To portray fatal injuries convincingly, it is essential to delve into the mechanics behind them. Understand the specific anatomical structures and systems involved, as well as the forces or mechanisms that can lead to fatal outcomes. Explore medical resources, consult experts if possible, and gather insights into the physiological and psychological implications of such injuries.

For instance, if your character suffers a fatal stab wound, research the anatomy involved, the potential organs affected, and the potential consequences such as internal bleeding or organ failure. By understanding the specific details and implications of the injury, you can describe the physical and emotional toll it takes on the character with greater accuracy and depth.

Depicting the immediate aftermath

When writing about fatal injuries, vividly describe the immediate aftermath to capture the intense emotions and physical realities. Consider the sensory details, the shock and disbelief experienced by characters, and the chaotic environment that often surrounds such events. Balancing realism with the needs of your story, create a scene that immerses readers and evokes empathy.

For example, if a character experiences a fatal car accident, you can depict the chaos at the scene, the character's disorientation, and the reactions of witnesses. Emphasize the sensory details such as the sound of screeching tires or the smell of burning rubber, creating a visceral experience for your readers.

Emotional and dramatic impact on the narrative

The impact of fatal injuries extends beyond the immediate moment. Explore the ripple effects on other characters, relationships, and the overall plot. Delve into the emotional responses, grief, guilt, anger, or determination that arises in the aftermath of loss. Utilize these emotional arcs to deepen character development and drive the narrative forward.

For instance, the loss of a loved one due to a fatal illness might lead to grief and strained relationships among the remaining family members. The emotional journey of a character grappling with guilt and seeking redemption after causing a fatal accident can become a central theme in your story. By delving into these emotional arcs and their consequences, you add depth and resonance to your narrative.

Writing Minor Injuries

While fatal injuries may capture our attention with their dramatic impact, it is equally important to pay attention to the portrayal of minor injuries in your writing. Minor injuries, though less severe, can still significantly affect your characters and contribute to the authenticity of your story. In this section, we will explore the art of depicting minor injuries, ensuring that they are not overlooked or trivialized. By delving into the nuances of minor injuries, you can add depth and realism to your characters' experiences.

Types of minor injuries to consider

When crafting your story, it is essential to consider a range of minor injuries that can occur. These injuries can include cuts, bruises, sprains, minor burns, or even minor fractures. Each type of injury carries its own unique characteristics, associated pain levels, and recovery processes. By understanding these distinctions, you can create accurate and believable depictions that resonate with your readers.

For example, a character who sustains a cut on their hand may experience sharp pain, the sight of blood, and the need for immediate first aid. On the other hand, a character with a sprained ankle may struggle with mobility, experience swelling, and require rest and care for a few days. By paying attention to these specific details, you can enhance the realism of your storytelling.

Conveying pain and discomfort

When writing about minor injuries, it is important to effectively convey the pain and discomfort experienced by your characters. Consider describing the sensation of pain, the throbbing or stinging feeling, and how it affects their daily activities or interactions. Showcasing the emotional impact of pain, such as frustration, irritation, or vulnerability, can deepen the readers' connection to the character's experience.

For instance, if a character suffers from a sprained wrist, you can describe the dull ache that persists, making simple tasks like typing or holding objects challenging. By capturing these small but significant moments, you immerse readers in the character's struggle and create a more realistic portrayal.

Balancing realism with narrative pace

While it is important to depict minor injuries realistically, it is also crucial to strike a balance with the overall pace and momentum of your story. Consider the significance of the injury within the larger context of your narrative. Some injuries may require more detailed attention and impact the plot, while others may serve as background elements. Adjust the level of detail and focus accordingly, ensuring that the portrayal of minor injuries aligns with the narrative's flow.

For example, a small cut on a character's finger may not require an extensive description unless it becomes infected or triggers an unexpected consequence. By aligning the portrayal of minor injuries with their narrative relevance, you maintain a consistent pace while still acknowledging their impact on your characters' lives.

Writing Bloodshed And Realistic Blood Loss

When writing about wounds and injuries, it is essential to consider the amount of blood loss your characters may experience. Realistic portrayal of bloodshed can enhance the authenticity of your scenes and immerse readers in the gravity of the situation. In this section, we will explore the factors influencing blood loss and techniques for accurately depicting it in your writing.

Understanding blood loss and its impact on the body

To authentically portray blood loss, it's crucial to have a basic understanding of how the human body responds to injury. Research the circulatory system and the role of blood in transporting oxygen and nutrients throughout the body. Consider the different types of blood vessels and their potential for bleeding when injured. This knowledge will help you create realistic scenarios and determine the appropriate level of blood loss for specific injuries.

Factors influencing blood loss in different injury scenarios

The amount of blood loss can vary depending on the severity and location of the injury. Factors such as the size of blood vessels, the rate of bleeding, and the body's ability to clot play a significant role. For example, a deep laceration in an artery will result in more substantial blood loss compared to a superficial cut on the skin. Consider these factors when describing injuries and their resulting bloodshed.

Techniques for accurately portraying blood loss in writing

There are several techniques you can use to convey the realistic impact of blood loss in your writing. Describing the color, consistency, and flow of blood can provide vivid imagery. You can also include physical symptoms such as dizziness, weakness, or fainting that may accompany significant blood loss. Additionally, consider the emotional response of your characters and how they react to the sight of blood or their own injuries.

By incorporating these techniques, you can create scenes that evoke a visceral response in readers and enhance the authenticity of your writing.

Bruises: Colors, Progression, and Pain

Bruises are a common result of injuries, and understanding how they form, change in color, and cause discomfort can greatly enhance the realism of your writing. By accurately describing bruises, you can bring depth to your characters' injuries and portray their healing process convincingly.

Understanding the stages and colors of bruises

Bruises go through distinct stages of color as they heal. Initially, they may appear red or purple due to the broken blood vessels beneath the skin. Over time, the color changes to blue, green, yellow, and eventually fades to a brown or yellowish hue. Understanding this color progression can help you accurately describe the age of a bruise and the healing process.

For example, a fresh bruise might be vivid purple, indicating recent trauma, while a fading bruise may have a yellowish tinge, suggesting that healing has begun. By incorporating these color details, you can add realism to your characters' injuries and track the passage of time within your narrative.

Depicting the progression of bruises over time

As bruises heal, they often change in appearance and size. Initially, a bruise may be small and localized, but it can gradually spread and become more extensive. Describing this progression can provide a sense of the healing process and the passage of time within your story.

For instance, a character who sustains a significant blow to the face may develop a bruise that starts as a small spot near the eye but expands to cover a larger area over the next few days. By accurately portraying the progression of bruises, you enhance the authenticity of your characters' injuries and their recovery.

Conveying the pain and sensitivity associated with bruises

Bruises can be painful, sensitive to touch, and affect a character's movement and daily activities. Describing the pain and discomfort experienced by your characters can create empathy and immerse readers in their physical ordeals.

Consider conveying the tenderness of a bruise when pressure is applied, the throbbing sensation, or the limitation of movement due to the pain.

Remember The Side Effects

Injuries, whether minor or severe, often come with a range of side effects that can significantly impact your characters' lives. These side effects can extend beyond the physical realm and encompass emotional, psychological, and social aspects.

Physical side effects

Injuries can have profound physical side effects that go beyond the immediate pain and discomfort. Consider the potential consequences such as limited mobility, impaired coordination, chronic pain, or the need for assistive devices like crutches or braces. Describing these physical side effects can add depth to your characters' struggles and provide a realistic portrayal of their healing journey.

For example, a character who sustains a leg injury may experience difficulty walking, require physical therapy, or have long-term complications that affect their day-to-day activities. By addressing these physical side effects, you create a more nuanced depiction of the aftermath of injuries.

Emotional and psychological side effects

Injuries can have a profound emotional and psychological impact on characters. They may experience fear, anxiety, trauma, or a loss of confidence. Consider how the injury affects their self-image, relationships, or mental well-being. Explore the emotional journey your characters undergo as they navigate the aftermath of their injuries.

For instance, a character who survives a near-fatal accident may develop post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and struggle with recurring nightmares or panic attacks. By incorporating these emotional and psychological side effects, you can deepen the complexity of your characters and their responses to traumatic experiences.

Social implications and changes

Injuries can also lead to significant social changes for your characters. They may face challenges in their personal relationships, encounter stigma or discrimination, or experience changes in their roles or identities. Explore how the injury affects their interactions with others and their sense of belonging in the world.

For example, a character who sustains a facial injury may encounter judgment or stares from others, leading to self-consciousness or isolation. By addressing the social implications and changes resulting from injuries, you can create multi-dimensional characters and explore the impact of their injuries on their social dynamics.

By incorporating these various side effects into your writing, you bring depth and authenticity to your characters' experiences and showcase the wide-ranging impact of injuries.

Conclusion

Writing authentic wounds and fatalities requires attention to detail and a deep understanding of the physical, emotional, and psychological aspects involved. By following the guidelines and exploring the subheadings discussed in this guide, you can create compelling and realistic portrayals of injuries in your writing.

Remember to conduct thorough research on the specific injuries you want to depict, understanding their mechanics, symptoms, and potential outcomes. Consider the immediate and long-term effects on your characters, both physically and emotionally. Incorporate sensory details to immerse readers in the experience, describing the pain, bloodshed, colors of bruises, and the progression of healing.

Additionally, don't forget to address the side effects that injuries can have on your characters' lives. Explore the physical limitations, emotional struggles, and social implications that arise from their injuries. By delving into these aspects, you can create well-rounded characters and compelling narratives that resonate with readers.

I hope this blog on forging epic battles will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey!

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catpriciousmarjara · 3 months

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DP X DC: Dani Does Things and Leaves, Explains Nothing

Heavily inspired by this dp x dc prompt and the comments and reblogs under it:

Please go check it out and @stealingyourbones entire page. They have some great dp x dc content and meta.

Local Ghost Princess Decides to Help Out Fellow Clone, Leaves Chaos Behind, Heroes Left Concerned and Very Confused, More at 10.

Now Dani knew that this world had superheroes. She knew they had an organization of sorts that had a hate-hate relationship with various government entities and a love-hate relationship with the public, depending on who you asked. However she had no intention of being involved with them. She was on vacation after all. Besides this world was just a stopover anyway. Why bother when she wasn't here on official business? But it seemed that while she didn't want anything to do with the heroes, they, however inadvertently, wanted something to do with her. How else will you explain one of the worst cloning results she had ever seen crash into a tree right in front of her while she was enjoying a nice cup of litchi boba tea in the park?

The botched clone job slid down the branches and hit the ground with a thud. She raised an eyebrow at the the rampant malevolent magical lines running through the body exacerbating the overall instability of the clone's anatomy. Clearly this individual had run into an irate mage who cast some sort of destabilizing curse and shot them right out of the sky. Dani was thankful this was an isolated section of the park and that she had put a rudimentary avoidance ward over the area. Otherwise, a superhero crashing into a tree would've caused quite the ruckus and interrupted her boba time.

She took a sip of her boba and crouched down to examine the conked out hero. This one was the one they called Superboy wasn't he? She grimaced at the state of his engineering. Whoever did his cloning did not know what they were dealing with. Her own cloning went better and she was ectoplasmic goop half the time. And Vlad was dealing with halfa DNA! Probably the most complicated genetic material in existence. Superboy over here was constructed from actual tangible genetic sources and yet...ugh.

Honestly speaking beings of this plane probably wouldn't have noticed anything wrong. A level down in power scale compared to the individual who acted as genetic donor, most likely that Superman guy, and random instances of destabilization would most likely be the extend of their knowledge regarding their faulty cloning. And when those instances of instability gradually ironed themselves out they probably patted themselves on the back and thought all was well. She should cut them some slack.

Dani hummed as she chewed on her boba pearls. Unfortunately she wasn't known to be the most merciful when it came to ensuring the well-being of clones.

Suckers probably didn't pick up the fact they unleashed a possible catastrophe upon their world. Superboy was obviously fashioned from Kryptonian DNA. A species known for becoming near godlike upon absorbing solar energy from a yellow sun. That means that their bodies have mechanisms at play beyond simple biology. Specifically energy pathways and an energy processing core. Superboy wasn't a level down in power from Superman because of some biological imperfection, he was weaker because of flawed energy absorption and storage. And that meant that his energy core was unbalanced, and once it reached a particular threshold...well its gonna be a spectacular light show this side of the galaxy that's for sure. Of course it was just a possibility. There was no guarantee he would reach that threshold in his lifetime. Unless he ran into a white mage who was vicious enough to cast a juiced up imbalance curse that is. And what do you know! Turns out you can organically be that unlucky!

She put down her cup and ran a simple diagnostics. Sure enough the magic had intensified the issue. This man needed help, the kind of help that wasn't usually available in this part of the omniverse. But she just so happened to pass by and just so happened to have expertise in this field so today was somehow simultaneously Superboy's lucky and unlucky day. He really was going through it.

As to why she would interfere that's easy. She was the Guardian of Cloned Beings after all. She can't have a fellow clone suffer could she? And plus, what were the chances that he would end up like this right in front of one of the only beings that would know how to fix the issue? Dani grinned in glee. Truly the laws of causality worked in intriguing ways.

She stood up and let her talons manifest, plucking the strings of SuperboyConnerKon-el's make and striking them one by one in the tune of an old Krytonian melody. Shame what happened to them really, but all things had their fate. It truly was great to see some of them survive and make a home elsewhere. Dani wished them the best.

As she worked, untangling knots, and straightening out blockages, the hero finally began to stir. His eyes opened and they were understandably unfocused. Disoriented and confused, he looked kinda like a bamboozled Cujo and Dani felt her lips twitch up in a toothy smile. For some reason that seemed to startle him. She mentally frowned. Did he expect her not to smile at him? That would've been rude of her. Dani might be a gremlin but she was never impolite.

"I'm just about done with the curse", she told him. "Leaching out the corrosive magic was easy but I need to repair your energy coils and that's tricky. Don't worry though. Everything's on the house. Always did have a soft spot for the House of El ever since my aunt married into it for a short while."

Dani pulled a particularly stubborn power node open. "I would like your permission before doing that through. Body autonomy, informed decisions and and all! So yes or no? You'd detonate like a bomb if I didn't though."

The young hero's eyes widened. He still didn't seem to know what was going on so she hit him with a short term clarity spell. And a small information spell to cover her bases. That got him to gather his wits enough and she watched as he processed the influx of information. His complexion was ashen when he got through the bundle and he finally managed a shaky nod. Good enough.

Dani smiled at the Kryptonian. "Great! Now this would take like twenty minutes give or take five. You can sleep now." She promptly knocked him out cold and cancelled the spells so as to not overload his brain.

And just as she predicted, twenty minutes later, she plucked the last string with a flick of her wrist and surveyed her handiwork. Exemplary if she said so herself. One of her best work! Cheerfully she shot an awakening spell at Kon-el and crouched down again, patting his head.

"You might need to be careful for a few days while your body adjusts to its new energy capacity and conductivity. Your overall system has been optimized as well so be careful", she told the groggy young man.

She paused. "And don't worry. I didn't access your mind. This was all strictly physical repair aimed at preventing you from exploding like a supernova and taking the planet with you."

And once again that part made his eyes widen. Good. He truly understood the urgency. Or that could just be him being loopy after solar energy overload. It was a bright, sunny day after all.

She stood up, creating a portal to the next world on her itinerary. She looked back at the most likely high as a kite Kryptonian. "You kinda owe me for all that extra work hero! I might just come to collect one of these days!", she joked as the portal swallowed her body and she was lost to the spaces between spaces.

She'd already told him it was all on the house so Dani didn't think that anyone would take that last part seriously. However she forgot the fact that one Conner Kent was in her own words 'high as a kite' and hence might miss some crucial details.

She also forgot to leave behind an explanation packet.

And thus she was utterly unaware of the chaos she left in her wake, happily traveling through the multiverse.

..............................................................................................................................

"So you're telling me that not only did someone find me when I was out cold and get rid of the spell, but they also rearranged my guts and gave me an upgrade?"

"...Yeah."

"What the fuck?"

..............................................................................................................................

"Conner, do you remember anything? Anything at all? Whatever they did required some serious magical power. We don't know why they did it or how. For all we know they could've done something dangerous that we can't detect yet."

"Litchi boba tea".

"Kon what the hell?"

..............................................................................................................................

"...Its in bits and pieces...but I'm pretty sure there was a woman?...white hair, green eyes...something something on the house...something about an aunt and the House of El?...and there was this strange white symbol on her chest and this really soft music was playing that went something like this...(confused humming noises)...and something about me owing her?"

"Kara? Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?"

..............................................................................................................................

"Let me get this straight, Superboy was healed by the Kryptonian primordial goddess of portals, messengers, travelers and other such domains, and not only did she save him but also gave him a tune up? And explicitly said that he owes her now? And this powerful divine being, who is also supposed to be the daughter of Krypton's Death God according to legends mind you, is most likely still on earth with motives unknown? Plus your entire House is descended from her family?"

"...Yeah that about sums it up."

"..."

..............................................................................................................................

"Oh man why did this happen just when I was going to go on vacation? Why couldn't the Death God or whatever reschedule?"

"Death gods notoriously don't reschedule, they're death gods. Also she's the daughter of a death god, not one herself. Most death gods are also famously fair. If not fair by our standards, fair by theirs".

"...That's good to know?"

"I confess I don't know about the fairness of children of death gods however".

"...great. Thanks anyway J'onn".

"You're welcome".

..............................................................................................................................

"You okay there man? Someone just rifled through your body and did who knows what...that's gotta be terrifying. You want to talk? We're all here for you, you know that right?"

" Thanks guys. And yeah it was freaky. But apparently I would've exploded and blown up the planet with me if she didn't do that so I guess I'm more grateful than scared."

"...Explode and blown up the what now?"

..............................................................................................................................

"Is there anything more we should know about Clark?"

"Legends say she has a brother and he's associated with great calamities?"

"...."

"Bruce? You alright?"

..............................................................................................................................

DPXDC refuses to be done with me. Leave me be accursed crossover! Leave me be!

(Btw Kon didn't make the connection because he was really out of it, and not because Clark and Kara didn't introduce him to Kryptonian culture.)

Thoughts and suggestions are welcome!

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 months

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After the timestream, the tension between Tim and three of his brothers (Dick, Jason, and Damian) is a bit high. He's been polite and cordial with them, but there's this emotional distance that wasn't there before. When he was mad or upset with them, he'd actually show it. Now, it's like talking to an underpaid customer service representative.

In one of the sitting rooms, Dick is lamenting to Jason and Damian about Tim's distance. The two of them aren't that interested in Dick's woes as he prattles on and on. Yes, they no longer hate Tim, nor do they try to kill or maim him. They also just don't like him at this point. Going from antagonistic to grudging indifference was already a huge step. It's not like they've really conversed with Tim either. There's absolutely nothing to build a relationship on besides their not so great history. They don't really care to get to know him either.

So the two are listening to Dick vent about his relationship with Tim when something the eldest says sparks a slight incredulous irritation in them. Dick acknowledges that Tim probably felt hurt by the older's actions. Therefore, Dick concludes that it's obvious that Duke is Tim's favorite brother.

Now, listen. Both Jason and Damian like Duke. He's funny, kind, and somehow still has Bruce convinced the kid isn't the chaos gremlin he absolutely is. There's bets on how long it will take for Bruce to notice some of his headaches are coming from Duke (it's like the man doesn't remember Duke's origins). Neither Jason nor Damian have any issues with the kid.

However, Duke has been a family member for a few months at best. They're still getting to know each other. Both Damian and Jason have been brothers with Tim for years. There's absolutely no way this newbie wins best brother.

The two are not happy with the revelation, but Dick keeps talking. He, as if to himself, wonders aloud who Tim prefers more between Jason and Damian.

The two turn to look wearily at each other.

The final nail is the coffin is Dick giving up on finding out because neither of them are good at talking to Tim anyways. What's the point on speculating?

This cues weeks of the two competing with each other and, unbeknownst to him, with Duke to be the better brother. That's not what they're calling the competition, but they won't lose.

Duke is confused why every time he hangs out with Tim he gets glares from both Jason and Damian. Fearing that the two might be returning to their fatricidial ways, Duke sticks around Tim even more. Tim, clueless to Duke's reasoning, is happy that someone wants to spend time with him and chat about Tim's gadget upgrades.

Jason and Damian become even more aggressively affectionate after this.

Tim, confused as hell why the two brothers that hate him are suddenly hanging around him more, starts implementing his previous routines. He starts scanning all his food, checks his room for traps, ensures his equipment isn't tampered, and tries to avoid the Manor. The fact that his checks aren't revealing anything freak him out even more.

He doesn't know what their end game is, but there's no reason Damian is asking Tim about his photography techniques and Jason is handing Tim home-cooked goods.

Dick, the master emotional manipulator of the family, uses the chaos to mend his relationship with Tim. He also pats himself on the back for tricking Jason and Damian into putting the work in for finding common grounds with their estranged brother.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #dc robin #batman #jason todd #dc red robin #damian wayne #dick grayson #duke thomas #dc signal #dc nightwing #dc red hood #jason and damian still haven't verbally apologized so Tim doesn't know they don't hate him #they are all idiots your honor

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edenesth · 2 months

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The Way to His Heart [20]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 19 | Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

San bowed his head as he absorbed the Queen's narration of the fourth prince's attempt to steal the general's wife during his absence at war, fearing the wrath of His Majesty and reeling from his own shock. Had he been aware of Prince Yeosang's plans beforehand, the royal secretary might have prevented you from attending the supposed birthday banquet in the first place.

The entire palace staff in the grand hall was startled as the King slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne, "The fourth prince did what?! This is outrageous! I've warned you countless times about spoiling him too much, my Queen."

Rubbing his temples, His Majesty shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, "We'll deal with him later. For now, confine him to his private chambers. He's only allowed in the royal library for his studies. The last thing we need is for him to unexpectedly show up at General Park's wedding and cause chaos."

Lowering her head, Her Majesty conceded, "Yes, Your Majesty. It's my responsibility. I know I should have been firmer with him."

"We're fortunate Lady Park handled the situation gracefully. I can see why Seonghwa is so enamoured with her," The King remarked with a slight smile before addressing San, "Secretary Choi, ensure that all funding for Prince Yeosang is withheld until further notice. Given his rebellious nature, he would likely find a way to disobey orders. Without financial resources, let's see what he can attempt."

As the Queen's lips parted to plead for leniency, His Majesty silenced her with a stern glare, leaving no room for argument. The weight of guilt settled heavily in her chest, a stark reminder of her own role in enabling the prince's behaviour. She couldn't deny that she simply wanted her fourth son to find happiness, but she knew deep down that her indulgence had contributed to his disobedient nature.

With a heavy heart, she reminded herself that this was not even the prince's harshest punishment yet. She could only imagine what further consequences awaited him at the hands of his father.

The royal secretary bowed in acknowledgement, "Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else you would like to add?"

The King straightened up, his demeanour shifting as he moved on from the matter concerning his son, "It would be great if you could visit the general's estate and inquire about his well-being on my behalf. Once he's feeling all better, arrange a meeting promptly so we can proceed with his wedding ceremony without delay."

With a final bow, San prepared to take his leave, but before he could depart, the ageing monarch extended a hand to stop him, "Wait, Secretary Choi! There is one last matter," His Majesty interjected, "Please extend my sincere apologies to General Park for my son's behaviour and express gratitude for his dedicated service to the nation. See to it that we cover all his medical expenses."

"Of course, my King."

The royal secretary stood before the entrance of his friend's estate the next day, feeling a slight hesitation before announcing himself. While His and Her Majesty bore some responsibility for the fourth prince's actions, San couldn't shake the feeling of personal responsibility. After all, he had been the one to prepare you for the supposed royal event, unknowingly sending you into the lion's den. He couldn't help but feel like a bad friend to Seonghwa, questioning whether he had done enough to protect the general's wife in his absence.

"I'm sorry to intrude on your moment of reflection, but how much longer do you plan to linger by the entrance, sir?" The private investigator's voice snapped San out of his trance, prompting him to blink rapidly as he recognised the familiar figure leaning against the main gate, eyeing him with curiosity.

Clearing his throat, San composed himself, "O-oh, hello! I, uh... I was just about to enter. It's nice to properly meet you, Investigator Jung. My name is—"

"Royal Secretary Choi San, I know. We're all aware, don't worry! It's an honour to be recognised by you, sir. Come on, you must be here to see General Park. Let me show you to him; Jongho's occupied at the moment," Wooyoung led the way, the secretary noting his talkative nature, "You won't believe what he's up to right now; he's such a peculiar kid. Takes dedication to a whole new level, I'll tell you that..."

At a certain point, San tuned out the rambling, focusing instead on mentally preparing himself to face you and your husband again. Would Seonghwa be displeased with him for not coming to his wife's rescue when she needed it the most? He wouldn't be surprised at all if the general were to be truly upset with him.

Before he could further overthink it, they arrived at the living hall where the couple was seated and engaged in conversation with the famous dressmaker Kim and skilled Physician Jung. Your husband looked up as if sensing his presence, beaming, "Ah, you're here, San! Come join us. We knew you'd be showing up sometime this week. I assume His Majesty has received my letter, yes?"

The secretary was taken aback, to say the least. First of all, he didn't think he deserved the warm welcome, and secondly, he had believed Seonghwa's injury to be severe, so seeing him looking almost back to his usual self shocked him. Though the older man appeared a bit paler than usual, San was primarily relieved to see his friend alive and well. Memories of the panic he had felt upon first receiving news of the general's poisoning flooded back to him.

Oh, thank god he's okay.

Greeting everyone in the hall with a polite bow, he cleared his throat, "You have no idea how relieved I am to see you alright, General Park. But before I deliver His Majesty's message, I feel compelled to offer my apologies to you and Lady Park."

Confusion creased your brow as you asked, "Whatever for, San?"

With a sigh, he admitted, "You're both too kind for your own good. I should have been more vigilant and prevented Lady Park from attending Prince Yeosang's birthday banquet in the first place. If only I had intervened, she wouldn't have gone through—"

You interjected with a gentle chuckle, "Please, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known. If you had, I'm certain you would have acted to prevent it."

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, adding, "San, you're far too hard on yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for; you've been nothing but a great help to my wife. Now, please, take a seat and join us."

Amidst the comforting smiles around him, the secretary finally eased into his seat. Eunsook promptly served him tea and refreshments, signalling the start of their discussions. San's revelation caught everyone off guard since they had yet to receive word from Mingi: the war had ended, and Ruhon had surrendered. As they exchanged incredulous glances, a wave of relief washed over them, followed by cheers of joy. The general and his wife shared a meaningful gaze, hands clasped together as you exchanged soft smiles. San understood the significance of that moment—the two could finally proceed with the long-awaited wedding ceremony.

The worst is finally over.

Unable to contain his curiosity, San finally inquired about how the general had sustained his injury. Your husband recounted the harrowing experience, his friends visibly wincing as they imagined the scenario. Your heart ached as you listened. Sensing the tension, Yunho jumped in, reassuring everyone that the injury wasn't severe and that with proper rest, Seonghwa would be back to full health in a matter of weeks.

"That's a relief. Once you're feeling better, we'll arrange a meeting with Their Majesties to plan your wedding. That's the main reason His Majesty sent me here today, aside from checking on you," The hall buzzed with excitement, but the general sensed that the secretary had more to say, "Is there something else, San?"

Taking a deep breath, San continued, "The King also wants to extend his sincerest apologies for the fourth prince's actions. As part of his punishment, Prince Yeosang has been confined to his private chambers, and his funds have been frozen. His Majesty is concerned about him causing any disruptions at your wedding."

"Oh, good riddance!" While Hongjoong and Wooyoung clapped with Yunho silently judging them from his corner, you appeared unsettled by the news. Feeling your unease, your husband tightened his grip on your hand and asked, "What's wrong, my love?"

The news of the prince's fate left you with mixed emotions. You felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of him being barred from your wedding. Despite his actions, you couldn't deny that he was still a friend to you and a part of you felt sorry for the struggles he faced all his life due to his birthmark. Understanding the complexities of his situation, you empathised with his confusion and desperation that stemmed from his severe lack of experience with love.

With a small gulp, you turned to your husband, voicing, "Hwa, I... I think I'd still want His Highness at our wedding, if he wished to attend," Surprised looks crossed the faces of everyone in the hall. As you explained your reasoning, they began to understand your perspective. After a moment of contemplation, Seonghwa lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of your palm with a reassuring smile, "Fair enough. If that's truly what you want, we'll discuss it with the King."

In keeping with his promise, you found yourself seated beside your husband as you faced His and Her Majesty for the first time a few weeks later, now that he was fully recovered. Sensing your nervousness about the meeting, the royal couple greeted you warmly, swiftly putting you at ease. After exchanging pleasantries, the general wasted no time in making his request.

"My King, we've heard about the punishment for the fourth prince," He began, "But my wife and I would like to request that you at least allow His Highness to attend our wedding if he wishes."

Confusion flickered across His Majesty's face, "You do? But why?" He inquired. The Seonghwa he once knew would have been furious and unforgiving. It seemed Lady Park had a positive influence on him.

Feeling it was only right for you to respond since it was your personal request, you gathered your thoughts before speaking.

"Your Majesty, I understand that Prince Yeosang's actions may seem outrageous from an outsider's perspective. However, I believe His Highness has endured a painful life, facing discrimination due to his birthmark. It's clear he mistook kindness for love, given his limited experiences. Despite his mistakes, he remains a dear friend to me. It would be meaningful to have him at our celebration, if he chooses to attend. I hope you can understand, Your Majesties. I apologise if I've spoken too much and am overstepping boundaries."

As your words sank in, a wave of introspection washed over the King. For the first time, he found himself reflecting on his relationship with Yeosang. Had he been too harsh on his son? Had he failed to understand the pain his son bore due to his birthmark? The King couldn't shake the feeling of guilt as he realised that he may have viewed his son more as a burden than a beloved child. Perhaps there were times when he had even considered the prince's refusal to marry as a personal affront.

The sudden realisation left the King feeling conflicted and remorseful. He wondered if he had been a horrible father, too absorbed in his duties as a monarch to truly understand his son's struggles. It was a sobering moment for him, realising that he may have overlooked his son's pain and loneliness. Was this why the Queen had been so persistent in advocating leniency towards Yeosang? Was she trying to make up for his shortcomings as a father? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he grappled with his newfound awareness of his own failings.

His and Her Majesty exchanged a meaningful glance. Suddenly, they understood why the fourth prince would mistake his gratitude towards you for love. After all, you had shown him a kindness and compassion he had rarely experienced, even from his own family.

Beginning to feel anxious at the royal couple's silence, you awaited their response with bated breath, with Seonghwa ready to support you if needed. To your relief, they smiled warmly at you.

"Please don't apologise for that, Lady Park," They reassured you, "You're right; perhaps we've been too harsh on him all this while. If having him at your wedding is what you wish, we shall allow it."

"Thank you, Your Majesties."

The Queen sighed softly before adding, "But whether or not he wishes to attend is ultimately his decision. Let's hope he chooses to join us for your sake."

You nodded in understanding, "Of course, I completely understand."

As the preparations for your wedding ceremony unfolded, time seemed to pass in a blur. Traditionally, weddings entail two parts: the first at the bride's home, where the couple honours her ancestors and family, and the second at the groom's home for the same purpose. However, due to your circumstances, with no family home for you and Seonghwa having little connection to his parents or ancestors, your wedding would be simplified, taking place solely within the palace grounds, where the royal family would also be able to attend, given that most of them are not allowed to leave the place.

In no time, you found yourself comfortably seated in one of the palace chambers, which had been graciously lent to you for the day. Hongjoong immediately began working on perfecting your look, with Eunsook and a team of palace maids assisting him.

You couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite hanbok now adorning your figure. Unlike the traditional red hanbok worn by most brides, this one was a stunning combination of white and gold. It was a testament to the dressmaker's dedication to his friend's request to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon.

Instead of the usual red flower, Hongjoong meticulously painted a gold flower on your forehead to complement your exquisite hanbok. You admired how perfectly it matched your outfit and the gold accessories adorning your hair. While part of you wondered if it was appropriate to outshine the royals, as the dressmaker had emphasised countless times, another part of you chose to revel in the admiration you would receive. You couldn't believe how far you'd come from being the scared girl who once endured disdainful glances and disrespect before marrying Seonghwa.

Reflecting on your journey, you felt grateful for the twists and turns that had brought you to this moment. Perhaps Jinjoo was right; you were quite thankful to your family for orchestrating your union with the general. Without them, you wouldn't be here, basking in the happiness you had finally found.

I guess we're even now, father.

Noticing your silence and distant gaze in the mirror's reflection, the dressmaker lightly nudged you on the shoulder, "Well? How do you like this look, my lady? Please don't tell me you're having second thoughts about standing out now. I've spent the past month working tirelessly on this hanbok—"

You giggled and offered a soft smile to your friend, "Don't worry, Hongjoong. It's perfection. For once, I think it's okay for me to outshine even the princesses. After all, it's my wedding ceremony, and I'll only be getting married once."

His grin widened proudly as he saw you slowly shedding your old self, no longer the timid girl he first met, "Damn right, it's perfection. I create only that and nothing less," He joked before turning serious, "Listen, I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Seonghwa's a dear friend to me, and I honestly would've thrown a bigger tantrum than he did if he had been arranged to marry some spoiled brat. You don't know how happy I am that you've found each other. But if that idiot does anything to upset you again, you better tell me."

You chuckled through your tears, your throat tightening at his heartfelt words, "You bet I will. Thank you, Hongjoong."

He panicked when he noticed your wet eyes, "Hey, hey, hey. Don't you dare start crying, woman. If you cry, I'll cry too. And trust me, that's not a good look for either of us. Plus, you can't ruin your makeup!"

His jest seemed to do the trick, eliciting another round of laughter from you. Fussing over you one last time, he noticed the palace staff at the entrance signalling it was time for you to be on standby. Gently grasping your shoulders, he beamed at you like a proud father, "Are you ready, Lady Park?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

With the nervous beat of your heart echoing in your ears, you were guided to the main hall, where the rituals would soon unfold, with Eunsook at your side. Hongjoong had departed after ensuring you looked flawless, joining the other wedding guests. As you reached the waiting area, where final checks would be made before your grand entrance and your first meeting with your husband today, your steps faltered.

While the head maid busied herself tidying your hair and smoothing the creases in your hanbok, you gulped, "Eunsook, t-tell me... this isn't a dream, is it?"

The elderly woman giggled, gently taking hold of your hands, "Are you still asking me that, mistress? Do you remember the first time you asked me that question?"

You nodded, reminiscing about the first time you had allowed the maids to bathe you after Seonghwa had discovered your scars. So much has changed since then. Though you weren't the same person you once were, a small part of you still harboured a fear that this all might be too good to be true. It felt like a long dream, and you couldn't shake the worry that you would one day wake up back in the hellhole you once called home.

Giving your hand a comforting squeeze, she smiled, "Well, I'm here to reassure you once more that this is all very real. Perhaps you fear losing the happiness you've found and you're not alone in that. Master feels the same way, so do all of us at the estate. We all fear losing the happiness that you've brought into our lives. I hope you haven't forgotten what I've said to you: you are our light and our hope. You're incredibly important to all of us. You still are, and always will be."

"She's right, you know?"

A familiar deep voice interrupted, startling both you and Eunsook as an unexpected figure appeared behind you. Surprised, you turned to find Prince Yeosang standing there, arms casually intertwined behind his back, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your reaction.

"Y-Your Highness?" You stammered, half-expecting his absence.

He continued, "You should've seen General Park earlier as they got him dressed. All he cared about was how you were doing. I guess that's what you meant by true love, huh? I wish it were just a dream for me, but it's not. So, don't you worry, Lady Park, this is all very real. I didn't give up on you for you to doubt this reality. Please make my choice worth it and be happy, okay?"

Relief flooded through you, reassured by his acceptance of your new chapter, "I promise I will make it worth it. Thank you, my prince, for choosing to be here today and for your kind words." You replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

He grinned in response, "Of course, wouldn't miss my first and only friend's wedding for the world," With a playful wink, he gestured towards the palace staff entering to usher you out, "Now hurry and get out there, don't make him wait any longer."

At last, all is right in the world.

Returning his smile with gratitude, you took a deep breath before stepping forward. As you walked out, you felt a newfound readiness wash over you. You were prepared now; ready to formally be wedded to Park Seonghwa, not out of obligation, but out of pure love for him. You were ready to be the wife he needed, the shoulder he could lean on when the weight of his responsibilities grew heavy. You were ready to be his home, his refuge, ready to be everything to him, just as he was everything to you.

As Seonghwa stepped out from his side of the waiting area, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you approaching from the opposite end. Each time he laid eyes on you, he thought you couldn't possibly become more beautiful, yet you continued to prove him wrong. Hongjoong had outdone himself once again; you looked more majestic than any royalty he had ever seen.

You stood out among the crowd, exuding grace and elegance in your one-of-a-kind hanbok. As you glided toward him, he felt overwhelmed by your beauty. But it wasn't just the general who was stunned; every guest at the ceremony had their jaws drop in awe at your ethereal appearance. Those seeing you for the first time now realised the whispers and rumours about your beauty were true. Truly, you looked like an angel descended from the heavens.

As the rituals unfolded, requiring you and Seonghwa to stand across from each other and perform a series of bows as instructed by the wedding officiator, each gesture symbolising a different aspect of your commitment to each other, you both remained focused on each other. Despite the lengthy and tedious proceedings, all you could see was one another as you patiently waited for it all to be over.

The guests cooed in anticipation as it was time for you and your husband to exchange a cup of wine, the act symbolising longevity and fertility. You blushed lightly as you heard Wooyoung among the crowd squealing, only to be smacked silent by Jongho and Yunho who stood by his side.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the seemingly endless rituals were concluded. You and the general bowed together a few more times: once to His and Her Majesty, once to the gods, and once to the guests. With that, the ceremony was complete, and you could finally bask in the joy of being officially united as husband and wife.

After the two of you expressed gratitude to the King and Queen for their assistance in making the wedding possible, the feast began. As neither you nor Seonghwa had any family present, you were naturally surrounded by your closest companions, the guys. Your husband took the opportunity to introduce you to the only friend of his whom you had yet to meet.

Grateful for his presence, you smiled warmly at the strategist, "Thank you for always looking out for my husband, Officer Song."

Mingi grinned bashfully, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. He still seemed taken aback by your beauty, "Not at all, my lady. It's General Park who has been looking out for me all this while."

Seonghwa smirked knowingly, giving the taller man a playful nudge, "Thanks again for coming, man. A little birdie told me you've reunited with a special someone. Can we expect a wedding invite soon?"

The guys around the table teased with mischievous oohs as Mingi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't know, hyung-nim. I'm working on it. But let's not talk about me, it's your big day!"

Hongjoong, however, wasn't having it, "Oh, come on, don't you dare change the subject! We need details about this mysterious lady!" He insisted, eager for gossip. The other guys excitedly chimed in, urging the officer to spill the beans about the royal physician who had captured his attention for years.

Amidst their playful interrogation of Mingi, you glanced around the room, curious to see if the fourth prince was still present. Catching sight of him, you noticed he was discreetly making his way toward the exit. Sensing your gaze, he turned, meeting your eyes. He offered you a genuine smile and a final nod before vanishing from view.

May happiness find you, Your Highness.

The remainder of the ceremony proceeded seamlessly, thanks to the meticulous arrangements made by the palace staff. As night fell, you returned to Seonghwa's private chambers, where the two of you would share a meal and some drinks before... going to bed. Your heart pounded with nervousness, fully aware of the significance of the evening; you would both be expected to consummate your marriage tonight.

"My love, are you feeling alright?" You blinked rapidly, coming back to reality as your husband waved his hand in front of your face to grab your attention. You nodded quickly and resumed eating, trying to appear casual, "Y-yes, I'm fine, Hwa. Don't worry about me."

But the general was more perceptive than you realised. He could sense your unease, especially as the meal was drawing to a close. With a soft smile, he set down his wine glass and reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Why do you bother lying to me, you silly girl? Did you think I would be disappointed in you?"

He knew he had guessed correctly when your chewing momentarily paused. Shifting his hand to cup your cheek, he gently guided you to meet his warm gaze, "What do you take me for, hm? We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready. I can wait, I'll wait for as long as you need," With a tender kiss on your forehead, he rose from his seat, "I'll get the maids to prepare the House of Lotus for you."

Feeling deeply touched by his understanding, you realised how foolish you had been to once fear the possibility of him hurting you. Truthfully, it wasn't that you didn't want to deepen your intimacy with him; rather, you were scared. He would be the first man to see all of you, every scar on your body, and you feared what he might think, feared letting him down. But his love for you reminded you of his kindness and brought you a newfound confidence.

Before he could leave, you panicked and reached for his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, "No, Hwa, please don't. I want to... I-I want to stay with you tonight."

Kneeling before you, he gently took your hands in his, "Are you sure, my love? You don't have to force yourself—"

You cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his. He responded almost immediately, and you smiled at the small whine he let out as he chased after your lips when you pulled away. Whispering, you said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to stay with you, Park Seonghwa. You're not getting rid of me tonight, or ever."

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he immediately captured your lips in a deep kiss, one passionate enough to leave you dizzy. With his guidance, you rose from your seat, your lips still connected, and he lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards his bed. Both your hearts raced as you broke the kiss to catch your breath, panting as he gently set you down.

Your breath caught as you leaned against the pillows behind you, trapped between his arms as before, reminiscent of the interrupted moment with Hongjoong. However, this time, it wasn't you who halted the moment. The general's gaze turned serious as he locked eyes with you, his voice low, "Last chance. We can still stop if you want to change your mind. Because if we go any further from here, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold myself back."

Cupping his face, you leaned in to kiss him softly, murmuring, "I love you, Hwa." If that wasn't enough to convey your feelings, you guided his hands to the ribbon securing the outer layer of your hanbok, silently granting him permission to undress you.

The first time he had aggressively torn your clothing was a mistake he regretted deeply. Now, he approached it with care, delicately untying the ribbon and holding his breath as he removed the garment, exposing your shoulders once more. The faint traces of your old scars were visible, but they didn't faze him. Tilting your chin up, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "You're so beautiful, my wife. I love you too."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes fluttered close as he kissed you again, banishing all previous worries from your mind. When he pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck until they reached your scars. Gently pushing some hair away from his face, you stroked his head affectionately, watching as he showered each mark with kisses. As his hand hovered over the ribbon securing the inner layer of your hanbok, he looked up at you one last time, knowing there would be no turning back from this moment onward.

"I'll be gentle, my love, I promise."

"I know, Hwa, I trust you."

That night, you and Seonghwa became lost in each other, the boundaries between you fading away as you become one for the first time. In each other's arms, you discovered a love deeper than you ever thought possible. You found yourself no longer able to picture your life without him at this point.

Reflecting on your journey together, you marvelled at how much he had changed since you first met. Back then, you could never have imagined that he would come to love you so deeply, nor could you have anticipated the depth of your own feelings for him. Now, as you lay intertwined with him in the quiet of the night, you knew that you had arrived at your destination. It had been a long journey, filled with obstacles and challenges, but in the end, you found it.

You had finally found the way to his heart.

Y'all, I hope this one didn't disappoint! The pressure of knowing this was the final part was so SO REAL. Maybe it's my insecurities kicking in, but I genuinely hope this meets expectations!😭

Also, I know the story is completed but I have good news! I've decided to do some fluff-filled bonus chapters because I'm well aware this is barely enough to make up for all the angst I've put y'all through HAHA if you're not on the tag list and would like to be tagged for any future bonus content, just leave a comment to let me know!

Whoo, it's been quite the roller coaster ride now, hasn't it? If you've made it this far, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story! From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for reading and as always, please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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diejager · 7 months

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I love your Only Human fics 😭😭 I can’t help but think what Monster AU 141/Kortac would do if their only human got hurt during a mission….

A continuation maybe please?

Only Human pt3

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x reader

CW: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, gun violence, flash grenade go boom boom, explosion, tell me off I missed any. wc: 2.4k

Only Human masterlist

They fucked up, they really flicked up. It was a simple mission, simple enough that you were sent with only three operators. Alejandro with his witness, slinked between enemy lines, shooting up and creating chaos once he shifted, his large body ripping through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter. Gaz with his aerial insights, flew over trees and spotted the soldiers you were shooting through and giving pointers to where they split up and where they collected. And finally, Horangi, stalking between the buildings, jumping from shadow to shadow with a slow sway of his tail, pouncing on his prey with the stealth of a tiger.

Laswell had promised that it was a quick in-and-out op, slipping through the village at night and taking out the leading figure of this hastily-made gang that was blocking the transport route between two important, allied towns. The shared intel was that it was a gang of ragtag rebels, raiding police stations within the mass, overwhelming the officers with their vast numbers of followers. They stole police equipment, vests, guns, batons, and ammunition, using them to power through the lines of officers and breaking through blockades built by the townsfolk.

While they weren’t trained in military warfare or had prior training with specialised weapons, they had the advantage of numbers, overwhelming any joint forces with their vast numbers of rebels. It was nearly astounding how many people were being paid and supported by Russia's wealthy Ultranationalists wanting to disrupt the trading routes and hurt the opposing team by prying them of a source of gas and material.

The few joint forces had slimmed down their numbers, leaving Task Force 141 to clean it up and take over their base of operation within the region. You were told that their numbers rounded a skeleton crew of twenty men, twenty-five at most. That’s why Price sent you four for quick and efficient disposal of the enemy.

That’s what Laswell gave you, the information burned into your mind from habitual memorization to ensure that your team would be prepared, and yet the data was wrong. Gaz had reported twice the promised number, not as well armed as you were warned but their number brought a changing tide to your mission. You wanted to turn back, to regroup and form another plan, but everyone was already in place and calling them back could be as much of a risk of being caught as storming in.

Perhaps that’s why you were all so careful and conscious of the dangers, moving in two, Alejandro and Horangi in one part and you walking under Gaz’s protective shadow. The initial plan was to box them in, working through both exits to snuff out any runaways and once you entered the compound, Gaz would drop down and lead ahead.

That was the plan, until, of course, all hell broke loose. It was chaotic, they were trigger-happy and within untrained hands, their guns were as leather as a trained one with how quickly they spent their magazine, cycling through one and spraying the wall you used for hiding. Soap’s wild clean-up would’ve been extremely helpful in a time like this; Ghost’s hungry haze would’ve swallowed them all up, opening up a way for you to pass; and König’s reckless and unpredictable shift that sent him into a wild frenzy while he tore through the base.

Unfortunately, they were back home, the little base they called their own when you first joined, yet you still had experienced and protective soldiers by your side, all special forces. Gaz led you with a strong hand and clear head, stopping at every corner to look at all sides before moving forward and you watched his back, looking out for any enemy rounding back.

Your situation would be - at best - organised chaos, made from what you were given at the moment, faced with a group over a dozen times and without backup waiting behind. There were hushed orders and observations sent back and forth between your groups, cautious warnings on your side and growls from the other. Nick had been informed in case of any immediate evacuation and Laswell, of the sudden change in the plan. You did your best with what you had, leaving bleeding corpses in your wake, slumped over the bloodied floor and against the stained walls, but you hadn’t expected the rapid change of shift in the enemy. They weren’t such men with guns and knives, they were trained - albeit sloppy - in ferality and ruthlessness, jumping at you and Gaz without a second thought.

Every lunge was met with a bullet, rifles firing at the advancing numbers holding a gun, a knife or both, leaving you with a graze or scrape, the skin under your clothes bristled and bleeding. They flooded like moths to a flame, one taking the place of a fallen, and two other taking his place. You were pushed back to back, Gaz’s wings fluttering in stress between you, fighting the need to cover you in a protective shield of muscle and feather.

“We’re compromised,” Gaz hissed into the mic, sending the message to any open coms on your connected line. “Victor-01, moving your way.”

“Copy,” Alejandro huffed.

Gaz tried leading you away, feet moving fast and steady around the halls you had to memorise for this Op. He tried to lead you safely, but they swarmed you like flies, appearing from every corner in an unending flood of shouting, thumping and firing. Gaz was bound to get hit at this rate, with his big wings and broader shoulders. It worried you that he’d take a bullet for you - you knew he would, as would the others - and get dangerously hurt. Through one door was a group waiting for you, gun trained forwards and ready to fire, but they were slow, sloppy, and they lacked the training and reflexes of a specialist.

You had time to push Gaz through a door and into a room, you hid on both sides, hiding from the straight line of fire. You unclipped a flash from your belt, waving it at him to catch his attention. It did and his lips broke into a grin, wild and electric at your idea. You had him count down the seconds, his fingers lowering until he balled his fist, shaking it as you pulled the pin out and threw it down the hall. Veering away from the door, eyes closed tightly and hands around your ears, the flash grenade blew up with a loud, ear-piercing screech. It sent them into a blind panic, weapons falling from their hands to rub the burning pain in their cornea, ears deaf to your quick-moving steps towards them, down they went, like those behind you.

Adrenaline pumped erratically through your veins, bubbling and warming your body to an uncomfortable heat that had you sweating under your gear. You turned another corner and you were closer to Alejandro and Horangi’s location, meeting up with them was your current objective, to regroup and take over the base in one group. They were just down the path, behind the sprinting men in jeans and t-shirts holding guns like it was a big, heavy toy. You could see their tense shoulders relax when they caught sight of you, guard still up and cautious, but glad that you were safe.

“Hunter,” Horangi hissed, his figure trembling as his nose twitched under his mask. He stared at your shoulder, the damp jacket stained with your blood. “You broken?”

“No, the adrenaline’s keeping me going,” you nodded back, trying to soothe his worry. Being the 141’s medic, you knew the benefits of adrenaline, it numbed the pain, the cold and the burns, but once you calmed down, you’d feel every little scratch.

You limped out of the building, body leaning against Horangi for support, his tail curled around your thigh and body tense in a possessive mood. He kept glancing your way, his golden eyes swirling with worry, pupils small and attentive to every wince you made. He moved according to your pain, urging you to put more weight on him when you walked on your bad leg, where a bullet shot straight through your thigh, bleeding through the quickly put gauze you covered it with and wrapped tightly in bandages. You promised them that you’d properly patch yourself up in the helicopter while they watched before you worked on them.

With your body riding off the adrenaline that kept you going for the past fifteen minutes, you jerked and winced when you walked on your left leg, the white bandage around your thigh staining red on the side. You were sure Horangi and Alejandro could smell your blood, or they'd been able to smell it before you even saw them, the irony tang wafting around them like a haze of their failure. The failure to let you get hurt and unable to properly protect you, you could feel the tenseness in their shoulders, their lowered head at your smile and the jerky movement when they moved around, seemingly pulling themselves back from doing something.

Nikolai waved at your group, ushering you in from his seat, strapped safely with his headset on and communication clear between everyone. With a short affirm from Alejandro, Nik took off, the bird curving to the left when he turned west, towards the UK. You waited until the flight was stable, flying through the air softly and steadily before you opened up your pack, searching for items to clean and reward your wound until you returned to the infirmary. You checked your tourniquet, tightening it when you saw that it was slightly loose, ripping open the wrapping around your leg, you reapplied the gauze, adding pressure to it to stop it from bleeding even more.

You winced and hissed under their watchful eyes, between Alejandro and Horangi, their tails swaying and occasionally curling around your forearm. Gaz, however much he’d like to sit beside you, to fuss and worry openly about your wounds, sat across from you, strapped in with his wings spread wide across the seats.

“Looks rough, Охотник,” Nik called to the back, light glinting off his glasses.

“Nothing new, Nik, you know that,” you replied through the coms, a lop-sided smile curling the corners of your lips.

He cackled, a full-belly laugh that had all of you smiling in your own ways. Nikolai was rambunctious, loyal and a big bear of a man. He was human, the other human in the Task Force apart from you (Laswell might’ve been the one sending you across the earth and gathering information, but she - regrettably - wasn’t truly a member.).

“Да! I do!”

When you landed, the rest of the TF was already waiting outside, arms crossed and shoulders tense. It seemed they got the news of your Op, showing their displeasure with deep frowns and deeper glares, none directed at you or the hybrids, it was some sort of self-hatred and anger at the person that gave Laswell the intel, their promise of it being factual and not sending them any updates on the case. Laswell, herself, was fairly mad, her stressed face pulled sombrely down.

Soap and Rudy rushed to you, voices low and tones raspy, they hovered near your group, fussing about the blood that caked Alejandro’s forehead, a slight graze from a rifle’s butt and other bruises from slamming into obstacles; Gaz’s slight pinch in the back from being slammed into a wall by a bulldozing enemy when he ran out of ammo; Horangi’s ripped sleeves, gashes bleeding lightly from attempts at slashing and stabbing knives by inexperienced hands; but what worried them the most was you, limping and hanging from Horangi’s shoulders.

Your eyes were hooded, equal parts exhausted and blood lost, placing all of your weight on the Haetae hybrid. While your upper half was unscathed - apart from the slight bruises forming on your skin - your leg, wrapped tightly in a tourniquet and bandages drowned in red. The amount of red would’ve been worrying if they hadn’t known you, but you’ve survived far more dangerous and life-threatening wounds, bouncing back with revenge. As truthful as it was, it didn’t stop them from worrying. You might’ve been more resilient than most - hybrids credited their resilience to their human parent - you didn’t have the healing ability of hybrids or the immortality of spectres.

“ ‘m fine, Rudy,” you smiled, so bright and reassuring when you were the wounded one. “Nothing a few stitches and rest won’t heal.”

“Si, but-”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not worried, love.”

Like his callsign, he walked in on your little group silently, peering over Rudolfo’s shoulders, his warm, brown hues meeting yours. His voice was strained with concern, croakier than when you left this morning, waving at them. Rodolfo moved over when Ghost brought his hand forward, Horangi passed you to him with careful and tender hands so that you could be brought to the infirmary without having to walk. You hooked your arms around Ghost’s neck, arms crossed lazily over his back and chin propped up on his shoulder. He held you against his chest, one arm under your ass and another carefully tucked under your knees, watching your wounded leg without touching it.

You looked at Price and Laswell from your perch, their hushed discussion with shrugging shoulders and crossed arms, but neither looked pleased with the outcome of your mission. You blinked owlishly when you couldn’t find König beside them, head turning from side to side to find the 6 '10 Austrian hybrid, but you still couldn’t find him. Just as you were going to ask Ghost where König was, a hand reached out to grip your forearm, thick fingers softly rubbing your strained muscle. You were met with a veiled face when you turned, brilliant, red eyes stared at your wounded thigh in distaste, his mind throwing him into the scene of the moment, turning and ripping the men that dared harm you to pieces, bloodied and unrecognisable parts of a human.

“Hey, König,” you called out, pulling him back from his violent daydream where his eyes turned crimson, glazed with bloodlust and rage, promising doom. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Ja,” he replied moments later, snapping to your face with blank eyes, now his regular, ice-blue colour. “To the infirmary first and mess all later. You need to eat and rest well to heal quickly, Schnucki.”

“What about the-”

“You need to rest, lovie. Let them deal with the debrief,” Ghost’s voice was stern and commanding, ending whatever protests you had.

As if to prove his point, he turned to face Price, his head nudging you to look at your captain, the imposing and dominating figure of Price’s horned head, thick, swaying tail and powerful wing. Price replied with a quick nod, curt in a way that shut down any voice, landing the hammer on the gravel with a resounding boom. You sighed, grumbling lowly about them worrying too much about a flesh wound, exaggerating your condition (in your mind) and threatening them with insubordination that had your commanding officers glare your way.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

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thedensworld · 7 months

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Don't Touch Mine | Y.Jh

Pairing: ceo!Jeonghan x secretary!Reader

Genre: romance, friends to lovers, angst, smut

Words count: 1k

Summary: Jeonghan had hid his feelings for you, but he had been in denial. Then, an unexpected event occurred, and everything changed.

Joshua nudged Seungcheol, subtly signaling towards their best friend, who had been casting his gaze across the entire ballroom. The two of them exchanged glances, sharing an inside joke known only to the trio, including the man himself, Yoon Jeonghan.

"Looking for Y/n?" Joshua chirped, his voice lightly teasing. It seemed to slightly irk Jeonghan, who promptly redirected his attention towards his two closest companions. He raised his glass, taking a sip of the wine that had been resting there.

Seungcheol let his eyes wander and easily spotted you standing with none other than Chwe Hansol, a budding businessman bearing a striking resemblance to the young Leonardo DiCaprio.

"Absolutely not," Jeonghan mumbled, offering a smile to the other guests who passed by and recognized the three of them.

"Then you should be alright with Y/n talking with Chwe," Seungcheol remarked, motioning towards you and Hansol. From Jeonghan's perspective, you two seemed a bit too friendly.

Jeonghan swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. "She's my secretary. It's my responsibility to ensure she doesn't make a fool of herself," he explained, eliciting chuckles from Joshua and Seungcheol.

"She's the one who saved you from that. Remember the charity ball at Jeon's group?" Joshua reminded Jeonghan of a minor chaos he had caused last time.

Jeonghan closed his eyes, trying to push away the sudden surge of old memories. Blame his low alcohol tolerance that led him to take an unplanned dive into the pond in the middle of the ballroom. He was thankful that the event had been private, sparing him from any media scrutiny.

"I hope everyone's forgotten it, like I've tried to," he sighed.

Seungcheol suddenly cleared his throat, nodding towards your location. "Kim Mingyu is approaching them," he said, an alert tone in his voice. That was enough to snap Jeonghan back to attention.

Jeonghan turned his body, observing how the casanova attempted to flirt with his secretary. Could he blame the guy? He wasn't sure. Or should he blame you for looking absolutely stunning tonight in that black dress that hugged your figure little too tight? Since he'd seen you step into his office before the ball, Jeonghan hadn't been able to shake off the effect.

"Look at that guy, he's got such a cheap stare," Jeonghan remarked to his friends, his distaste evident on his face as he observed Kim Mingyu.

Joshua playfully elbowed him in the stomach. "Alright, you're being a bit too loud, but I agree, man."

Seungcheol chuckled softly. "But the guy does have a certain charm, you've got to admit." His comment earned an eye roll from Joshua. "Are you on his side or Jeonghan's?"

Jeonghan turned to Joshua, a protest forming on his lips. Joshua simply shrugged and continued, "To make Y/n yours?"

Jeonghan scoffed, "She's already mine," he declared, before striding away from his best friends.

As you drove back to Jeonghan's home after the event, he couldn't help but ask, "What were you discussing with Hansol and Mingyu?"

"We were talking about our latest ad project for the release. Hansol expressed interest in a collaboration," you explained, opening your iPad to show him Chwe Hansol's company profile.

Jeonghan leaned in, genuinely intrigued by the conversation, engrossed in the work that C.Creative had accomplished. He instructed you to delve deeper into the company's projects that could potentially be worked on with Hansol and compile a report.

As you diligently took notes, he suddenly inquired, "What did Mingyu talk to you about? Is he bothering you?" You shook your head, reassuring him.

"Absolutely not. He just had some questions about our app, which I already addressed," you reassured him.

Jeonghan's brow furrowed, curiosity piqued. "What did he say?"

"Um... Just about our system on Nevitech and... some personal matters," you replied.

"Did he ask you out?" Jeonghan's direct question caused you to bite your lip, and with a hesitant nod, you confirmed it.

Jeonghan sighed, his concern evident. "Do you want me to talk to him? I can make it clear if you're not interested..."

You interrupted him, "I am actually interested in him."

Jeonghan was taken aback, blinking in surprise. He leaned back in his seat. "Oh... I didn't know you liked him."

"Like is a strong word. I'm just open to the possibility of dating... you know, it's been a while," you explained, trying to be reasonable.

Jeonghan had to admit, your dedication to him and the company was commendable. It was one of the reasons he always tried to keep you low-profile or shielded at business gatherings, out of concern that someone might try to recruit you. It spoke volumes about your potential as his secretary.

He still remembered that you had a boyfriend when you first joined the company, but after a few months, he noticed the absence. Jeonghan was never one to cross professional boundaries, especially at work. But when he finished his work and saw you waiting for him, he felt a pang of guilt. It was a Friday, and you should have been spending time with your significant other.

"You're not home?" he inquired.

You shook your head and replied, "I was waiting for you, sir."

Glancing at his watch, Jeonghan realized it was well past dinner time. "Have you had dinner?" Another shake of the head from you.

That night, you both shared a meal, and it was during this time that he learned about your breakup due to your busy schedule. He also discovered you were from the same high school and that you were his junior.

"You should call me by my name, Y/n," Jeonghan suggested casually, not expecting that this casualness would lead to whatever he was feeling these days.

"Jeonghan..." Your voice saying his name brought him back from his reverie. Those were simpler times, when nobody knew you, and he had you to himself.

"Jeonghan, we've arrived," you informed him. He turned to you, realizing you were now in the basement of his penthouse.

Nodding, Jeonghan stepped out of the car. You gave him a respectful bow before he started to walk away. Just as he took his fifth step, he turned back to you. "Y/n... Could you come in for a bit? There's something else I'd like to discuss."

You glanced at your watch, then nodded. After grabbing your belongings, you followed him inside.

Jeonghan awoke with a pounding headache, his reminder of his abysmal alcohol tolerance. However, he couldn't forget everything that transpired the night before.

"Y/n, I like you. A lot.'"

Immediately, he sat up, surveying the disarray he had left in his wake. He cursed himself, realizing he hadn't bothered to put on any clothes, and now you were gone. As the memories flooded back, he buried his face in his hands, anxious about how to handle the situation with you after what had happened.

A confession had led to a heated night that Jeonghan never anticipated. He berated himself, trying to dismiss any foolish thoughts, and checked the clock on his nightstand. It read 7 am, meaning he'd see you in the office in an hour. What should he do? Act as if it never happened? Apologize and insist it was a one-time thing? Jeonghan took a deep breath, resolving to go with the latter option. He was your boss, and you were his secretary. A romantic relationship between you two was impractical. It was definitely a one-time occurrence. You wouldn't see him as a man, would you? He reasoned that emotions had gotten the best of him last night, and you had been intoxicated.

That's all it was.

"Yeah... Right there... Please... J-Jeonghan..."

He groaned in frustration.

Walking into his office, he saw your silhouette already seated at your desk. He tried to steady the pounding in his chest and let out a deep sigh. He swore he'd never felt so on edge before. When he stepped into the office, you promptly stood and gave him a respectful bow. He paused in front of your desk, debating whether he should broach the subject of last night.

He gave you a nod before walking into his private room, finally able to breathe a bit easier. The knowledge that you were just meters away from him was torturous. He set his things down and sat at his desk, only to be jolted by a sudden knock. Acting out of character, he permitted you to enter with breakfast in hand.

"You got this for me?" He asked, puzzled. You blinked, as this was the usual routine every morning.

"I-I mean, you... you were gone this morning... to get this for me?" He stammered, audibly swallowing.

You nodded, "yes, please enjoy your breakfast," you calmly replied, bowing, and started to leave the room.

Jeonghan cleared his throat, "Y/n..." He hesitated, "whatever happened last night was a mistake. I'm sorry for that. It's so unprofessional of me," he began.

Your gaze met his, a pregnant pause hanging in the air. Slowly, you nodded and turned away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Days melted into weeks, the air between you and Jeonghan growing fragile. With a major project on the horizon, you both became engulfed in a whirlwind of activity, leaving little room to address the events of weeks past. Jeonghan found some solace in this.

But there was a noticeable shift. You weren't as talkative and lighthearted as before, which tugged at Jeonghan's heart. He cherished your jokes, a beacon of levity during the exhaustive whirl of meetings and paperwork. Now, your words were dominated by work, a change he couldn't help but take note of.

After a meeting with a foreign client, all Jeonghan yearned for was some respite. You both traversed the hotel corridor, you leading the way to his room.

"If you need anything, you can call my room," you offered, and he nodded, promptly entering his room.

As Jeonghan settled in for some rest, the night wrapped around him. It was nearly 10 pm when he ordered room service for dinner and summoned you to join him. When you knocked on his door, he welcomed you in, preparing the table. Just as he was about to pour the wine, a wave of memories crashed over him, stalling his hand. You looked at him with curiosity, but Jeonghan shook it off and poured the wine.

"Please, enjoy," he said to you as you both savored the meal.

The dinner continued with a brief discussion about the next day's schedule, as Jeonghan had several engagements in Singapore.

"What about the project with C.Creative?" Jeonghan reminded you about the upcoming project with Chwe Hansol's advertising company, currently working on their new release.

"I contacted them yesterday, and they're working on the proposal. When do you want them to present it?"

Jeonghan wondered, checking his schedule on his phone. "I think Friday would be great." You nodded and quickly jotted it down. "I'll email them tomorrow morning."

"Did you bring the MoU for tomorrow? I want to double-check," Jeonghan asked for the MoU file with the Singapore client to be signed the next day.

You reached for your things. As you searched for the file, an envelope labeled 'Resignation Letter' flew to Jeonghan's attention. His brows furrowed. Before you could retrieve it, Jeonghan quickly snatched it and opened it.

"You're about to resign? Why?" Surprise painted on his face, he inquired seriously.

You glanced around, avoiding his eyes, still searching for the reason you hadn't fully formed.

"I... I think it's been a while since I started working for you. I need a new experience, a new challenge to develop myself," you explained.

Jeonghan didn't seem entirely satisfied with your answer. He looked at you again and said, "Is it because of the salary? Do you want a raise? How much?"

Your eyes widened. "No, Jeonghan. You pay me more than enough. It's not about the money," you clarified.

Jeonghan tilted his head, a tinge of concern. "I don't find it reasonable for you to quit, Y/n. You know better than anyone that being my secretary in this industry is quite challenging."

You sealed your lips and let out a sigh before revealing the real reason. "I don't find it enjoyable anymore, working with you, Jeonghan."

Jeonghan felt a small twinge in his heart at your words. He slowly prodded further, "Is it... because of what happened last time?" He asked cautiously.

You nodded slowly. "I know you made it clear it was a one-time thing. But, I think it's changed a lot, between us," you said, finally expressing what was on your mind.

Jeonghan took a deep breath. "Then what's your plan?"

"Kim's Property has sent me a proposal to work for them."

Kim's Property? Kim Mingyu?

"Wait!" Jeonghan began, "You want to quit because you find that we've been unprofessional, but you want to work with Kim Mingyu? The guy who's been hitting on you?" A sudden surge of anger filled Jeonghan.

"I'll be his father's secretary, so we won't work directly with each other."

Jeonghan couldn't help but chuckle, finding it rather perplexing that you were willing to work with Kim Mingyu despite the perceived unprofessionalism. He felt a sense of injustice in this situation.

"Why? What's the real reason you don't want to work with me?" Jeonghan pressed, feeling that your previous explanations were merely excuses to distance yourself from him.

"We're being unprofessional, Jeonghan. I don't think I could continue working with you," you asserted.

Jeonghan scoffed, frustration and confusion coursing through him. "Tell me the exact reason, Y/n! You don't like me anymore? Suddenly you don't enjoy working with me?"

"It's because I do like you."

Jeonghan's mouth hung open, stunned by your candid admission.

"I've liked you since you took me to that dinner five years ago. And when you finally confessed that you liked me that night, I was over the moon. But the next morning... you said it was just a one-time thing, a mistake, and I... I couldn't look at you the same way again. I'm sorry..."

"What?" Jeonghan's voice was barely above a whisper. He rubbed his face, finally connecting all the dots from the strange tension between you two in recent weeks.

You took a deep breath before continuing, "I hope you can understand, Jeonghan," and with that, you rose from your chair and headed towards the door.

As Jeonghan saw you walk out, he immediately pulled your arm and landed his lips on yours. He pushed your body against the wall while his other hand reached the nape of your neck to deepen the kiss. The kiss lasted for seconds before he pulled away. Jeonghan looked into your eyes before pulling you into another kiss. In this moment, you raised your hand to cling to his neck, savoring the intimacy you shared in the room.

"I like you. No, I love you, Y/n," Jeonghan whispered in the midst of your shared kiss.

He pulled away from the kiss and looked into your eyes, "that time wasn't a mistake. It was stupid of me to say that."

You stared at him and felt tears welling in your eyes. Your heart pounded so much when Jeonghan pulled you into another kiss, but this time with so much passion and lust. His kiss slowly trailed to your neck as his body pressed you against the wall, almost enveloping you. He tapped your thigh, motioning for you to jump on him, and you hugged his waist with your legs. His hand roamed your figure, and his other cupped your cheek.

"May I?" He asked, his gaze never leaving yours. You nodded slowly as he took your shirt off and unclasped your bra. He kissed your chest as one of his hands went to one of your breasts.

"You're mine, Y/n. You're mine."

Jeonghan's eyes wandered across the ballroom, searching for your figure as Seungcheol spoke to him. "Are you even listening, Yoon Jeonghan?"

Seungcheol's words pulled Jeonghan's attention, causing him to turn his head towards his friend. He hummed in response, nodding as if he had been listening. Seungcheol chuckled at his best friend. "Looking for Joshua?"

"Yeah... Is he late? He said he'd be here in ten." Jeonghan muttered, glancing at his watch.

"There he is," Seungcheol said, motioning towards Joshua, who was approaching them.

"Alone?" Seungcheol asked Joshua. Joshua shook his head. "She was talking to someone earlier," he said, pointing to where his secretary was. Jeonghan immediately turned his head in that direction.

"Stop looking for my secretary!" Joshua nudged Jeonghan's arm.

Jeonghan scoffed, "She was mine before yours," he mumbled, finally spotting you in conversation with a woman.

"How can she look that stunning?" Jeonghan remarked to Joshua and Seungcheol when he saw you in your silk red dress with your hair down.

As he watched the tall Kim Mingyu approach you, Jeonghan promptly handed his glass to Seungcheol and made a beeline for your location.

"Hi honey, you look gorgeous," Jeonghan interjected, interrupting your conversation with Kim Mingyu. The Casanova seemed taken aback by Jeonghan's bold move as his hand gently reached for your waist and he planted a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

Mingyu let out a chuckle. "Is this the reason you joined Joshua's company? Because you're together."

Jeonghan smiled at Mingyu and pulled your body closer to his, gazing at you tenderly before leaning in to plant a kiss on your cheek.

"Yeah, she's mine."

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little-pondhead · 7 months

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Classic "promised-at-birth-to-the-Ghost-King" story, except the contract never states how, exactly, the King is to use the offered soul. Usually, one would be offered as a bride or sacrifice. But with Pariah Dark sealed away, his retainers got a little lazy in the last few millennia. They just made some generic contracts and practically handed them out like candy.

When Danny took over as king via conquest, that included all the weird and messed up soul contracts the previous retainers had signed. And since ghost magic was a thing and seemed to have it out for Danny personally, many of these contracts updated their terms and conditions as soon as that crown hit Danny's head, reflecting the new King's subconscious desires and personality.

This caused many issues with those still around to profit from these contracts. Some people lost their power, some gained more, and some were unbound and kicked to the curb. A few special people found themselves dropping dead after their less-than-ethical abilities disappeared.

Danny was unaware of the chaos he had unintentionally caused for quite a while. It was only brought to his attention when a letter arrived on his desk one day with a copy of someone's valid contract enclosed. The new changes have been highlighted, and a separate note is attached.

It seems that in exchange for blessings of near-immortality for her infant son, a mother had offered Pariah Dark both their souls in order to ensure her child's survival during harsh times. (The souls were to be collected upon death and were to be used as soldiers in the King's Army.) The mother's soul had returned to the Keep decades ago and was recently assigned to tend to the gardens, while her son seemed to have grown into a fine gentleman and was still alive. He used his mother's gifts to serve his country and loved ones well, it seemed.

At first, Danny didn't see what any of this had to do with him. If the mother was already a part of his kingdom, and the son would be eventually, why was a letter about the whole thing showing up before him?

Then he read the revised contract, which bore his magical signature. A signature that overruled the power of Pariah and binding it to him.

'...and as such, in return for the abilities stated above, [Mary Pennyworth] and [Alfred Pennyworth] will fulfill the conditions detailed below, upon pain of Ending.

[Mary Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a lieutenant in the Skeleton Army caretaker in the Gardens of Pluto.

STATUS: COMPLETED

[Alfred Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a general in the Skeleton Army caretaker of the King and his Court.

STATUS: PENDING'

Danny had to re-read the contract several times to understand what it was saying. He now had a caretaker? What did a caretaker do? Was it like a ghost parent? Could this guy ghost-ground him??

He sighed and pressed the speed dial on his phone for Tucker. Time to find out who the hell this Alfred Pennyworth guy was, and how to break a magic contract when it wasn't even fulfilled yet.

Meanwhile, Alfred had just found the original copy of the contract amongst his mother's belongings after it glowed and drew him in. The paperwork cleared up a lot of mysteries he'd always wondered about himself, even if he disapproved of his mother's methods. Nonetheless, he smoothed out the aged paper with dark green ink, noted the fresh (sloppy, a teenager?) signature, and began preparing to meet this supposed new King and his Court.

It wouldn't hurt to make introductions before he died, after all.

#pondhead blurbs #dpxdc #alfred is now their grandpa #i just want alfred to meet danny and his group of friends and unironically call him 'your majesty' and danny HATES it #like this is the guy who's gonna be my butler/caretaker after he dies? please man just say my name #it's not a cursed name i swear #no one else knows how to feel #cause like #if the contract wasn't in place everyone was sure Alfred would haunt the manor even after death due to his devotion to the wayne family #but now he's already got a job in the afterlife #so how will the bats see their father/grandfather figure now?#Bruce: the obvious solution is to adopt these random kids who still have families so alfred never has to leave :)#alfred isn't even dead yet but the bats are speedrunning their grief in like a week

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

Text

Passion for Fashion Part 3

Danny nervously twirls his thumbs as Dan paces before him, mumbling insults to the Waynes under his breath. They were supposed to go third in the walkway line, as it was supposed to be in alphabetical order, but just as the computation was going to begin, a disaster struck.

Tim Drake-Wayne had been kidnapped. In broad daylight, as the teenage CO-CEO was getting out of his limo, a group of men broke through the crowd, swinging guns around and demanding everyone to get on the ground and give them their valuables.

Of course, there were security who attempted to gain control of the situation, but it seemed that three of their newest hires were traitors and in on the heist. A shoot-out was ensured.

Drake-Wayne had been taken in the chaos, and Bruce Wayne had passed out from worry. He and the rest of his kids were on their way to a hospital- a secret location to deter further kidnappings of the remaining Waynes- and the first runway of the competition was canceled.

Danny hadn't seen anything from the model changing room, but Dan had forgotten his make-up bag in the front entry and had gone back for it while Danny changed. He had been front and center when the whole thing went down.

"Who just lets themselves get taken like that!?" Dan huffs, practically spitting fire. According to the ghost, Tim Drake-Wayne's actions were an act, and the teenager had been able to get away from his kidnappers but didn't.

Dan found his nonaction insulting since it paused his fashion show.

"Um, look around you? Situation awareness." Danny tells him, gesturing to the cage they had been shoved into. While the people had been preoccupied with Tim Drake-Wayne's kidnapping, a second group of men had gone in through the backdoor and taken all the models.

Danny had thought it was the staff moving them until he noticed a few people crying as they were placed into vans. In his defense, most people aren't used to seeing someone armed like he is, so the gun-waving hadn't tipped him off.

Dan had joined him later when he followed the coordinator- another traitor- to the vans, and his counterpart had only gotten upset when they took his make-up bag.

"Please, this is just metal." Dan rolls his eyes, bending the bars and straightening them out again to prove his point. Danny doesn't mention the electric buzz the bars release, as neither is really affected by the shock. It's more of an annoying light show. "Sides, it's not like we're human. Not like them."

He tilts his chin to where other models sob in their cages below. They are all waiting for their new owners to pick them up. At least, that's what Danny was able to gather from the men's taunts. They were taken by human traffickers, who had buyers look at the competition lineup and pick which model they wanted before the actual kidnapping.

Danny and Dan were in such high demand they would be sold at an auction that would take place while the rest of their pals kept the Bats busy. Danny had no idea who the Bats were or why they would save them instead of the police.

"Tell the whole world why don't you?" Danny hisses, twirling his thumbs more " If they found out what we are we could be turned over to this world version of the Guys In White."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my human boots." Dan rolls his eyes. He resumes his pacing. "If the Waynes had taken this seriously, we could have been seeing the results of the judge's panel already."

"Dan, this is a little more important than your fashion Obsession."

"Excuse you, my Obsession is a medical condition," Dan huffs, sliding down the cage bars, and for a brief second, his hair flickered to white before it settled back into black. A flash of pain crosses his face. "My core is killing me."

Danny winces. "Right, sorry, that was insensitive. How about I steal you some paper and pens so you can design a ball gown?"

"I like that."

Danny turns to the bars, bending them open and closing them behind him. He carefully makes his way across the giant shipping crates, to an office at the top right corner.

They are at the docks, hidden somewhere in a warehouse among many crates that will be shipped out, and Danny is honestly a little offended they have yet to be found. Sure, the kidnappers had driven through the sewers on a strangely built road that led them here, but surely someone would have noticed the apparent fact the van disappeared at a fake dead alley?

Weren't there cameras in almost every corner of the city? Dan had warned Danny about them while doing his Obsession-driven research, and both agreed not to Go Ghost while in public due to them.

Now, they could escape, but Danny wasn't kidding about the Guys in White or whatever their equivalent was here. He would rather know what level of competence they have before he makes any rash moves.

Danny also wants to see his fellow models' buyers, and he would like to have a word with them. His ghost Obsession may not be protection- much to the shock of many- but Danny has always had a moral compass that pointed to protecting others around him.

Dan knew and respected this about him, so his counterpart was willing to sit and wait for the buyers. He's just a little angsty since it disrupted his obsession.

Danny grimly peeks into the office window when he sees the coordinator talking on a phone. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, so he carefully opens the door and creeps up behind the man.

"-If you ever want to see your son again," The man is saying, smirking. Danny can't see it due to the man facing away from him, but he can hear it in his voice.

On the desk is a laptop that repeats what he said only, the sound sounds robotic and unrecognizable. Is that a voice changer? "I suggest you ask Batman to find your boy before it's too late."

Batman? The man they were supposed to help save his humanity?

Danny knows it's a risk, but this is too much of a chance to pass up. He carefully picks up the office chair and brings it down hard on the disgusting man's head. The coordination lets out a chocked grunt of pain, but he's out like a light when he hits the ground. His phone flies across the floor, and a voice is heard speaking urgently.

Danny ties the man to the bolted-down desk using zip ties- the same ones they had used on him and the rest earlier that day, before picking up the phone.

"Hello? Is this Batman?" Danny asks, jumping slightly when the laptop repeats him in a creepy robotic voice. "Wait hold on, I think I can get rid of this voice thingy."

"...what?" A man asks over the phone, but Danny pays him no mind as he tries to click some boxes.

"Hello, testing one two three," Danny says, wincing when the voice changer makes him sound high and unnaturally squeaky. He sounds like he's trying to audition for Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Hello? Hello? Wait, I think I got it."

"Who are you? Where is Tim?" The man asks, and Danny almost rolls his eyes. He hates it when someone interrupts him while he's working with tech.

"Wait-there it is! Can you hear me alright? Do I sound normal?"

"....I can hear you."

"Awesome! Are you Batman, and if so, have you considered the importance of mental health activities? Like hugging your kids once a day? That really boosts your serotonin and dopamine levels." Danny asks, attempting to channel Jazz as much as he can. There is muffled sound across the phone line, like someone is attempting to smother a laugh.

"No, this is Bruce Wayne." Mr. Wayne says after a moment pause, "You have my son?"

"Oh," Danny tries not to sound as disappointed as he feels, but he may have failed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne I don't think your son is here. I think they were using him to distract you and the police of the missing models."

There is a strange lake of sound on the other line before Mr. Wayne responds. "Can you tell me who I am speaking to?"

"Danny Fenton. I was one of the models that was taken." Danny says, then he realizes the cops must be listening in because that always happens in movies; he lowers his voice and tries to sound in shock. "I think we're in a warehouse? I'm not sure, but I was in a cage when I woke up. They said they're going to sell us. I escaped, but there were guards everywhere, so I tried hiding in the office and heard the man you were speaking to come in. I hit him with a chair."

"Mr.Fenton," A new man says suddenly, "I know this is a terrifying situation, and I-"

"Are you Batman?"

"....No, son, I'm Commissioner Gordon"

"Oh."

"Do you want to speak to Batman?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"I need to tell him to hug his kids."

Danny waits a few seconds for a response, but he hears nothing, not even the wind. They must have muted themselves. He leans on the desk, mindful to give the kidnapper a solid kick to make sure he's still out, and glancing over to the window to make sure there aren't any guards coming his way.

"Mr. Fenton, did they give you anything strange?" Commissioner Gordon asks

Danny thinks for a moment before humming. "They gave all of us something in a needle. I don't know what it was, but it felt funny. My brother has been acting weird since he got it."

"Okay, you're doing good. " Commissioner Gordon sounds like he is frowning but the words cause something in Danny's core to pur."Okay, son, everything is going to be alright. I need you to do something for me. Every Gotham warehouse has a serial number; you can find it in the main office on the power box. Do you see the box?"

Danny glances around until he sees the small little green box. He hurries over to it, throwing the door open. "I found it."

"Good. Can you read me the number?"

Danny reads them off as quickly as he can. Once all ten digits are within the police's hands he asks again. "Do you know if Batman partakes in his kid's interests?"

"I can ask him for you."

"Would you? That would be great. It's important to let people know you care about them by showing an interest in what they are passionate about. My brother Dan really likes making clothes, and even though I don't think I can model, I do it for him, you know?"

"You're a good brother."

"Thank you.....I'm tired Mr. Gordon." Danny says suddenly eyelids becoming heavy. He slides down the wall a lot like Dan did before.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Fenton."

"Batman should tell his kids he loves them. His love language may be an act of service, but Nightwings' is words of affirmation. Nightwing needs to be told he's loved."

"Mr. Fenton! Stay awake for me! Mr.Fenton!" Danny hears someone yelling, but his core is purring even more now, and the sound is luring him to sleep. Suddenly he thinks of his counterpart in the cage waiting for his paper and pen.

"I have to go. I promised Dan I would get him some stuff so he could design some clothes. Bye-Bye."

"No! Don't hang up-!"

Danny drops the cell phone after pressing the end call button and ignores it when it rings again. He hurries over to the desk, looking for paper, but finds the table lacking. Thankfully, an open suitcase has sheets that he borrowed and a few pens.

He takes them all and runs back over the crates to where Dan is. Once he arrives, he notices many models are no longer distressed. All of them are smiling with a dazed look, and a few are even giggling. He waves at a few as he hurries back to his cage.

Dan is there, muttering under his breath and twisting his fingers in the air as if he were drawing in the sky. Danny bends the bars and holds up his prize. "I got the stuff!"

"Thank the ancients! I was never going to finish Mr. Hot scales suit without it!" Dan cheers, turning one of the sheets over to a clean side. He throws his whole body on the ground, using the smooth surface to start his ball gown.

Danny watches him for a moment before his purring core is too much. Dan reaches out to grip his leg, enclosing it in his warm palm and that's all Danny needs before he's fast asleep.

Dan continues to draw for a few more minutes before he, too, is overcome with sleep. Neither notices Red Hood or Robin bursting into the warehouse, guns and swords blazing, just as the buyers arrive. They or any of the models are unaware of the smackdown that happens until everyone involved with the scheme is behind bars.

Robin finds their cage, stepping through the bent bars and pausing at the sheets of paper scattered across the slumbering teenagers. He flips one incredibly designed ballgown only to have his eyes widen at what's written down.

"Robin to Batman," he says, staring at the paper and pressing his communicator. "I have a complete list of everyone who was buying today and past buyers. We can dismantle an entire ring with this."

"Good work, Robin."

"It wasn't I who found it. It was the Fentons."

".....Are they hurt?"

"Drugged but otherwise unharmed."

"Good."

There is a pause before Nightwing speaks up "Tell me you love me B."

"No"

Danny Fenton's eyes briefly open to stare into a surprised Robin's eyes. "Tell him Batman his humanity is at risk. Says the Ghost King."

"They gave him the good shit," Spolior laughs, having heard Fenton through the coms.

Elsewhere, Tim Drake-Wayne stares at Killer Croc aka Waylon Jones who is replaying the video of Dan Fenton catcalling Waylon from his cage right after the fashion designer was dosed with high levels of morphine.

"Hey Papi, why don't you come up here and let me dress you up in the proper wrapping for a walking gift like you?"

"Hey...hey are you from the EverBurning tribe? Cause those are the hotest legs and tail I have ever seen!"

"Mr.Hot Scales, I promise Danny is the only ally of FarFrozen. I'm team EverBurning all the way! Kiss me!"

"What the actual fuck?" Tim asks, and Waylon nods.

"I have no idea, kid. The first time any of my merchandise flirts with me."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion #Part 3 #tw: human trafficking #tw: drugs #Danny and Dan were somewhat able to fight off the drug #Dan was in his right mind when he was catcalling #Look Dan is more ghost then human and thus finds nonhumans hot #Danny's obsession was hinted. Can you spot it?#The twins got in situation #Bruce is worried about them

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