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#Minor Angst
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Hi, if you want to do it I would really appreciate it, you can do an imagine Percy Jackson x Female reader daughter of Hades where she is very close to her godly Father (Hades best father) they are very close and she and Percy are dating and Hades finds out, Can you tell me what their confrontation with Jealous Hades would be like with his daughter and Percy with that affronting and sarcastic way of his?
ofc!
*inspo from b99, jake meeting amy's dad*
Get. Away. From. My. Daughter.
[percy jackson x f!reader]
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" Or I will. skin. you"
" So you can just control your daughter's life?"
"No-, ugh you, Perseus Jackson, are so infuriating."
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You love Percy, of course you do, but when he asked to meet Hades you freaked. He was hurt, sadly, but he quickly understood why after this.
Though, unfortunately for you, your man is a very, very, maddening person.
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A large bang caught your attention as Percy leaned in, a mischievous grin crossing his face. You both snapped your eyes toward the door while the dark energy surrounding the Underworld crawled close to you.
The guilty sighs coming from both Nico and Will helped you discern what was going on.
" We tried, [Name]. I'm sorry..." Will apologized. You smiled and shook them off as you placed your focus on your very angry father.
"[NAME], why would you even think about dating this mediocre, dense, child?"
You groaned but before you could say anything, your, mediocre, dense, boyfriend, interrupted you.
"Maybe it's because she likes my, mediocre, dense, brain!"
Hades nearly lost it...
So, of course Percy made it worse by twirling you to face him and kissing you on the forehead knowing full well that your dad would lose his shit.
"Get. Away. From. My. Daughter, Or I will skin you alive."
"So you think you can just control your daughter's life?"
"No- ugh, you, Perseus Jackson, are an infuriating person! [Name], are you sure this is the person you want to spend a while in your life with?"
Percy got increasingly offended.
"A while? Why can't she spend a lifetime with me?"
Hades laughed in your boyfriends face, before retorting. "My daughter has the ability to gain men much better than you ever could be."
That was when you butt in. "How dare you say that Percy isn't a man that deserves me?"
"It's alright, Rosie, he's not wrong." Percy chuckled, antagonized by the truth he could see your dad's words.
"No, you deserve me and I deserve you, and my father doesn't have the right to call my romantic choice 'mediocre' because this isn't the 1800s and he can't sell me for two sheep."
Percy smiled gently towards you as you scolded your surprised dad just for him.
Hades sighed, looking at the gaze that your lover held for you. He could see the love that he had long ago refused to believe that Poseidon's demigod son could hold for someone that wasn't himself just like his father.
But that moment was what helped Hades realize that he can't control the fact that you are your own woman who can choose who you want to love...
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hope you like it!
sorry it took me so long (ノへ ̄、)
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slaybestieslay946 · 8 months
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Everything About You - Luke Castellan
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Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader
Warning: Swearing
Word Count: 4.9k
a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere
also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE
MASTERLIST
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You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan. 
After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder. 
You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.
You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous. 
But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy. 
“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.
Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…” 
“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”
“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you. 
“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”
Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing. 
“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.
“What about her?”
“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?” 
Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you. 
“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.
“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”
“No thanks.” 
“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.” 
Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off. 
“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.” 
Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed. 
“Fine. I’ll talk to her.” 
*
The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon. 
He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena. 
Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away. 
The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares. 
He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known. 
“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you. 
You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you. 
“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”
“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.” 
“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.
Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance. 
And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for. 
With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back. 
Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively. 
The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat. 
You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena. 
“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless. 
“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.” 
“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased. 
You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again. 
“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.” 
“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled. 
“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath. 
But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked. 
Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion. 
“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes. 
“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”
You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.” 
And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face. 
Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand. 
*
“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her. 
“Who? Luke?”
“Who else?” 
“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table. 
Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?
“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.” 
“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly. 
“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”
Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need. 
“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.
“You’re impossible.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.” 
“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.” 
“Bitch.”  
*
When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious. 
Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.
Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies. 
It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring. 
You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy. 
“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile. 
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”
“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned. 
“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 
It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.
“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head. 
“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her. 
“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked. 
You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new. 
“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. 
Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender. 
“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”
Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa. 
“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate. 
“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly. 
You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms. 
“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”
“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.
You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head. 
“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”
“Uh-”
“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake. 
“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted. 
“Shut up.” 
*
Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’. 
She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went. 
You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was. 
“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.” 
“She could be lying to you?”
“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods. 
Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff. 
You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction. 
“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff. 
“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else. 
Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation. 
Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings. 
“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”
You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust). 
“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods. 
“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response. 
You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.  
Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not. 
That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag. 
“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked. 
“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper. 
You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning. 
He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed. 
Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one. 
You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.
And, as always, he defeated you eventually. 
He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin. 
“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours. 
“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him. 
He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?” 
Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen. 
And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him. 
“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory. 
*
It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag. 
Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset. 
He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her. 
“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand. 
Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now. 
“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.
“With Chiron. He got claimed.”
“What? By who-?”
“Posiedon.”
The boy’s jaw dropped. 
“You’re joking. No fucking way.”
“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful. 
“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?” 
Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless. 
Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks. 
“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!” 
“What, no it’s not-” 
“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?” 
Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before. 
He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening. 
As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts. 
Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table. 
Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care. 
He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him. 
The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food. 
He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?
*
As it turned out, it could be really bad. 
Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate. 
As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly. 
And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered. 
She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull. 
And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses. 
They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake. 
All the things you liked to do. 
He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself. 
And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames. 
Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them. 
And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him. 
At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go. 
But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck. 
He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t. 
But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.
Why were you hurt?
*
As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?
You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way. 
He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you? 
 Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend. 
And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart. 
You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth). 
So why were you so devastated?
You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend. 
“Hey!” 
You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you. 
“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy. 
“Why’d you run away from the campfire?” 
“Just needed some air.” 
“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”
“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically. 
He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship. 
“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back. 
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.
“What?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.” 
He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement. 
“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.” 
You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that. 
“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained. 
“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous. 
“So what are you-”
“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across. 
“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.
“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.” 
You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity. 
“You’re being serious?” You asked.
“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly. 
You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”
Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you. 
And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body. 
He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again. 
Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him. 
“Wait, so you really mean it?”
“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”
“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”
“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body. 
“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised. 
“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.” 
At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.
“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.” 
You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.” 
“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.
You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that. 
So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. 
“Believe me now?”
“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.” 
He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego. 
“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.” 
That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.
“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?” 
“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.” 
554 notes · View notes
californiaboytoybilly · 11 months
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Billy, who has only ever known a life of ‘use or be used’ comes to Hawkins, Indiana with exactly one plan.
To get the fuck back out.
But see, the problem is that that takes money. Money he definitely doesn’t have.
The first night in his new room, he doesn’t bother to unpack. No, he sits on the floor by his bare mattress and he plots.
It’s not worth the risk trying to steal from Neil. Can’t escape this shithole if he’s fucking dead. Getting a job and actually managing to keep the money without his father finding out would be… difficult.
Bored housewives would probably be willing to shell out gifts for the privilege of a quick fuck to forget their balding, miserable husbands. It wasn’t much, but it was a thought to consider.
He leaves that half finished plan open in his brain when he goes to his first day at Hawkins High, only to have the page ripped up and burned at the first sight of one Steve Harrington.
Bored and- seemingly- apathetic pretty boy with absent parents and a big house. Considerably more his type than some desperate midwest housewife with sickly sweet perfume and a simpering voice.
And clearly rich.
By the second week of classes, Billy has caught Steve’s eyes lingering on him a few too many times.
So starts what would become both the only thing that mattered to him, and the worst thing he’d ever do.
His usual charm doesn’t work on Steve, so he goes the other way. Taunts him, a bully pulling on his pigtails until one day Steve snaps and kisses him behind the gym until Billy almost forgets why he’s doing this entirely.
At first, he feels no guilt in it. They don’t talk feelings, it’s just good fucking sex and Steve apparently loves to give gifts.
Gifts that are too thoughtful. Too knowing.
First aid supplies. Clothes. Buying him expensive dinners to make up for the nights Billy was sent to his room without a bite to eat the entire day, even if he didn’t know that.
Billy starts to become more aware of his plan as the days, then months slip by. He thinks of all the times Steve has given him money for gas or other things, how Billy has lied to him. How all that money is stashed away, just waiting for a chance that he can disappear into the night like an asshole outlaw.
Steve becomes his boyfriend and the guilt sits heavy and sticky in his gut. He starts to second guess what he’s been doing.
Billy doesn’t say he’s in love, not even when Steve does. He knows he is- has fought against it with every fibre of his being the whole fucked up way down- but he can’t bring himself to say it when his escape is on the horizon.
He comforts himself by telling himself Steve will forget about him. Move on and marry some docile stay-at-home wife who wouldn’t push his buttons the way Billy did.
But then, late one night, Steve says it again while he’s pressing Billy down into the mattress. And Billy- emotionally taken apart by a particularly bad day at home- crumbles. His eyes fill with tears and he says it back in a fit of weakness. The first time he’s ever said those words to someone.
I love you too.
That’s when his plan starts to fall apart. It’s become annoyingly apparent that he can’t escape this. Doesn’t want to. Steve has become his escape.
So even though it feels like pulling teeth, he starts to empty his stash. He buys Steve gifts now, because spending it on him makes him feel less vile. Takes Steve out on dates.
He finally feels a sense of relief when it’s gone, even if he says goodbye to California mournfully in the same thought.
It’s easier to be around Steve after that, even if a trace of the guilt always lingers. Easier to say he loves him when he isn’t constantly ready to say goodbye. Easier to open up to him.
He finally tells Steve the truth about Neil, and the first thing Steve does is offer him a place in his home if he needs to run.
Billy loves him. He feels free for the first time in his life. He’s happy.
And that’s when Steve finds out the truth.
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oneshlut · 10 months
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Oh my God.
I had a very funny and slightly strange idea...
Imagine that there is mutual sympathy between the reader and Jax. In short, Jax have crush on reader, but the reader... don’t know it (or just don’t see it.)
So, a new person appears in the circus. It doesn't matter who it is, what it is, what their name is, etc.
So, newbie and the reader became very close friends. I mean, sometimes spending the night in the same room, hugging, holding hands...(I mean friends not like lovers)
Look, I just want to see Jax get jealous, okay...?
Thank youuu🫶💋❤️
A/N: awwwww we love a jealous jax,,, thanks a bunches for requesting!! i've been getting OVERLOADED with requests (which is why i closed them for a while, dw, i've got a schedule goin for me now), i'm just so happy you guys enjoy my works!! yesyes, enjoy! <33
Overly Warm Welcome (Jax x Reader) [Imagine]
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Imagine: Reader gets a bit too close to a new character, and Jax gets jealous. How does he respond?
You and Jax have always been close. Everyone in the circus knew this. Mainly because you were partners in crime, pranking everyone in sight together.
Jax would never admit it--not to you--but he had always enjoyed your company. You didn't think of him as some 2-dimensional asshole, but rather someone who actually had a life before. He felt.. seen.
On good days, you'd spend a bit of time in his room with him, chatting about nothing in particular.
Yup, I'm lying. The two of you gossiped about everyone all day. Bantering, teasing, joking.. Jax found himself growing increasingly fond of you. Eventually, he had put his full trust in you.
One day, a new sucker joins the circus. It happens every now and then, but not often, so he finds himself intrigued. Apparently, not as much as you were.
You and the new person became friends immediately. Jax is glad you were able to find someone to relate to, as you were both still pretty new.
Doesn't think much of the two of you at first. He's not immediately jealous, don't worry, his confidence is still intact.
So you start spending more and more time with them. Jax does miss you, but he's, again, not that fragile. He doesn't really care, neither does he care to know the person's name that you started spending all your time with.
He will get slightly more antsy around you, though. Doesn't ask you to join in on pranks anymore, since he thinks you're too busy. Okay, he's just dragging himself away from you at this point.
Jax will watch from afar as you and your friend chit chat and what not.. hoping you still cared for him, and then he just happens to spot the two of your hands were interlocked with eachother.
Surprisingly, that wasn't his final straw. Although, when you had talked to him earlier, he was much more tense with you. He forced laughs, and had a constant envious glint in his eyes.
He would've been fine, if you had just went up, introduced yourself to the new fella, and went on to your day. You could've stayed in a safe relationship with them where you only talked sometimes because of circumstance.
But that's not what happened, huh? Now, you had only spent about two minutes a day with him. And he missed you. There, he admitted it. And if he was being honest, he always wanted you and him to be something.. maybe something more. He's not too confident that's going to happen now, though. He felt overlooked.
You just now begin to notice the edge to his voice. Suddenly, he feels a lot more hostile to be around. He'd mumble about nothing in particular, be lots more rude around you. Ruder than usual, at least. And sometimes, he didn't even want to look you in the eye. Part of you thought that it was something you did.. and a small part of you thought he was just close to abstracting. But you knew him better than that. He had a better mental state than Kaufmo ever did.
One night, he decides to approach you about this. He didn't want to live in silence forever, did he? He also didn't want to.. live without you. But when he knocked on your door, his response was a hollow room.
Jax goes to Ragatha for answers, and tells him that the last she heard of you, you were on your way to the new fella's room. If anything was his last straw, this would be it.
But how else is he supposed to drag you away from them? He'd need a reason, and all he's got right now is.. either admitting he missed you, or admitting to something even more mushy and gushy. He did not feel like doing that at the moment.
Instead, it ends up accidentally slipping out in one of your conversations. Not the liking you romantically thing, but the, uh, missing you thing.
Hearing that he missed you left your heart soaring a mile a minute. I mean, sure, you were close, but.. Jax doesn't normally care for anyone. Except for.. you, apparently.
After you were able to silence the flush look on your face, you questioned him about it. He told you about how much time you've been spending with the "newbie", and how he just misses your company, is all. It didn't seem like everything, though. You decided to save that question for another conversation.
So, he was jealous? Hah, he denied it, but you knew better. You had apologized to him, and agreed to set up a prank on Zooble later that day. His voice no longer felt as tense, and you saw a glint of his usual cheeky grin coming back to him. You smiled back. Not before teasing him relentlessly about it, though.
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kozumesphone · 11 days
Text
✮⋆˙ 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 = 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒
⤷ leo valdez x daughter of athena!reader
masterlist
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♡ fandom | percy jackson and the heroes of olympus
♡ includes | best friends with hints of romantic feelings (if I ever find the energy to make a part two, it’d actually be cool 😔), barely any angst to comfort, collective adhd levels being off the charts, yapping.
♡ in which | y/n and leo sharing a common love for designing and building things <3, reader and leo, both have nightmares (not described too vividly), reader uses swear words <3.
♡ a/n | jdkfcjqdkb I wrote this and forgot to post it ;-; anyway, this is one of my new fav leo fics i've ever written bc I get to geek out 🫶 + the technical part of this is inspired by my love for fast and furious + my new interest in f1, so enjoy!!
♡ wc | 1.0k
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✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov
“are you ready, child of athena?” a god’s voice boomed around us. I took a few steps to the front to be side-by-side with my brother, malcolm pace.
“you’re not leaving me, now of all times—”
“i’m sorry, mou ilios, I have to. you know I do.”
“mal, please, I— who’s going to lead the cabin if you’re gone? how can you be so selfish—”
“you, n/n. I know you can do it,” malcolm said, and stepped in front of me. he raised his hands and gently pushed me further behind him, enveloping me in his shadow.
“it’s one child of athena you want,” malcolm paused. “take me.”
“PLEASE NO—”
fuck.
I sat up on my bed. I picked up a watch from the bedside table—a watch that once was malcolm’s, but mine, now—which read 2:47.
I threw my blanket to the side, which did little to cover me up anyway, and got up to check on the little kids. they were all sound asleep.
for the next 10 minutes—or what felt like an hour—I walked around the cabin, cleaning it up and trying to fall asleep.
but when has sleep ever come to you when you needed it the most?
I feared reliving malcolm’s last moments before he left me, everytime I closed my eyes. stranded me here, disappearing without any advice on how to lead, or how to live.
I leant against the cabin door and felt the cool air from the bottom of the door blowing onto my feet. finally realising that I couldn’t go back to sleep, I decided to go out for a walk.
“and where are you off to?” annie’s voice whispered from her bed. she was still half asleep and groggy.
“heading out for a walk. can’t sleep,” I said.
“take the cap, and don’t get caught. i’m not helping you out with the dishes if you get caught by those harpies,” she grumbled. I smiled and took her cap from the coat rack beside the door, and stepped out into the cold night in nothing but sweats and a tank top.
great choice, y/n. good job on not realising what you were even wearing. now, you can die of the cold, if the harpies don’t get you first. yay!
I put on annie’s cap, watching my shadow disappear with me. I walked around aimlessly, thinking of malcolm helping me pick my first dagger, which was currently concealed with the help of the waistband of my sweatpants.
my feet subconsciously drag me to bunker nine, where I heard noises from. I go closer only to find light glowing from the open door.
I was facing my best friend’s back, hunched over a project, probably. if he turned around, I bet he’d look sleep-deprived and in need of coffee.
before I could take off the cap, he said, “hey, n/n!” and turned around with a grin.
“shut the fuck up, man, how did you just do that—” I complained, taking the cap off.
“I felt the sleep deprivation and negativity enter the room and guess who it was?” he wiggled his eyebrows and left his project unattended behind him.
“whatever,” I rolled my eyes at him and flopped down onto his couch. we looked at each other for an entirety of a few seconds before I opened my arms and he tumbled onto me.
“nightmares?” I asked.
“mhm.”
“same.”
“cuddle?”
“fuck yes, please.”
timeskip
it was around 4 in the morning when we wrapped up our movie night—movie morning?—with leo’s face buried in my neck, cuddling.
“wanna stay like this forever,” he said, his voice muffled. I smiled.
“or we could finish building what you were working on before I came,” I suggested. he looked up suddenly, with all his energy regained.
“hell yes!” he whisper-yelled, pumping his fist in the air and getting up. pulling me up from the couch, he continued. “I was working on building my own 1.6 litre four-stroke turbocharged 90 degree V6 double-overhead camshaft reciprocating engine. there’s these things called street races in tokyo, and this engine is basically my ticket to winning the next series there! wanna come with me and check out the coolest cars ever, next year?”
“oh, dude, you’re on! i’ve heard it’s basically motorsports heaven—”
“it is!”
“and we’re building our own fucking engine!?”
“we are—”
“oh, this is SO cool!”
“i’ve gotta start reworking on the specs, because I keep getting them wrong. can you take a look at them once?” he asked.
I nodded and moved towards his work table where used plotter papers lied. after taking in his planning and figuring out where he went wrong, I pulled out a new paper, and sharpened the blunt pencil.
I wanted to put my hair up but realised I forgot my hair tie at cabin six. I turned around to ask leo if i’d left any here when he removed a black hair tie from his wrist and dangled it in front of my face.
my cheeks flushed at the thought of him wearing it everyday. it felt so intimate, but it wasn’t that deep, really.
right?
I thanked him quietly and he pulled two chairs in front of the table, on which we sat down and started working on drafting the new specs together.
after about an hour, neither of us could keep our eyes open and moved to the couch, falling asleep together with whispered promises of finishing the blueprints the next day.
“cute fit, by the way,” he whispered. I looked down and realised it was his birthday gift to me from last year, and smiled.
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phantom-z0ne · 8 months
Text
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"Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was.” Alternatively, Billy feeds a stray and ends up with a roommate.
WC: 1215
Serendipity (n): the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
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Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was. Granted, the train car wasn't in the most hidden place ever, but he had made sure to ward it against most creatures. The ward would have made one unable to see the train, and if they somehow saw it anyways, they would have been turned around. He usually was pinged if anything passed his wards, which was why he was so blindsided to see something moving around in his train car. It seemed that this one had slipped through his protections. 
The creature was strange and almost hard to look at directly. Its blinding white hair moved independent from the wind and twined around its long, pointed, mint colored ears. It was also small, small enough that Billy thought it could comfortably fit into his cupped hands, and wearing some sort of skin tight suit, black with a stripe of silver along its torso. Or what appeared to be its torso, Billy couldn't really tell when its lower body faded into a long tail.
From his perspective, it seemed to be rummaging through where he usually hides his food, showing slivers of its white paws. Did it pass through the barriers he set because it was hungry? 
Billy approached the creature quietly, making sure not to get too close, he wouldn't want to startle it. His efforts were in vain though as the creature snapped its head towards him. It's glowing eyes like headlights, as if staring into Billy’s soul. The green in its eyes swirling hypnotically as the creature bristled at his presence. 
Billy watched, amused but vigilant, as the creature puffed up like a cat. Even going so far as to swat a couple times in his direction. So far, it was quite harmless, but the buzzing in the back of his head that he usually equated to Solomon told him to be careful.
Billy slowly dropped to his knees, mindful of the creature's reaction, and shifted his bag to his front. He shuffled through his bag and brought out the small piece of jerky he was saving for later, sliding it slowly towards the creature.
The creature tilted its head, staring at the jerky suspiciously before taking a few steps to paw at it. It apparently passed its test as it devoured the jerky surprisingly fast for its small size. While it seemed to be starving, thankfully it didn't reflect onto its body. It wasn't gaunt or thin, but actually quite plump. Perhaps it just didn't eat for a day or two? 
Billy took a small step forward, then a few more when he realized the creature was focused on eating. “So,” He began softly, the creature startling as if it was just realizing he was so close. “What are you doing here, little guy?”
It stared at him silently before once again tilting its head. It was cute, Billy realized. The chubby cheeks and button nose paired with big, shiny eyes made it endearing to look at. His expression melted slightly as he took a closer look at the creature.
The creature's ear flicked as it padded up to him, paws on Billy’s knees. It let out an unintelligible sound, layered and harsh to Billy's ear, yet somehow melodious. Billy blinked, not expecting that noise. The creature looked at him almost expectantly, eyes shining brightly.
Billy hesitantly brought his knuckles closer to the creature, feeling its cold nose as it sniffed him. It was clearly unimpressed and trilled for more food. Billy chuckled under his breath as he brought another piece of jerky to the needy creature. It gobbled it up swiftly, looking up at him and once again begging for more, its eyes almost sparkling.
Billy folded under the cuteness overload and retrieved a sandwich from his bag, splitting it in half. He was worried that it would eat more than it could handle if he kept feeding it. He knew very well what that felt like.
The creature blinked at him, once, twice, before giving him a small, pleasant trill and headbutted his fingers. Billy cautiously set his hand over its silky hair? Fur? All he knew was that it felt divine, though not in the godly way. 
“What are you?” Billy asked as he wove his fingers through its hair, genuinely curious on what species the creature was. He had inputted a lot of creatures in his ward but he had no clue what this one was. The tingling at the back of his head spoke otherwise, Solomon knowing very well what it was. He could transform and ask Solomon, since he couldn't really speak to him unless he was Captain Marvel, but that would just scare the creature.
It gave him a look before resuming its lunch, finishing it in record time. Apparently, it deigned him worthy of its presence on his lap as it kneaded his legs then curled up onto them. The purring surprised him, pausing when the creature gave him an impatient look when he halted his ministrations on its hair.
He resumed, of course. Why wouldn't he? It was a nice reprieve from fighting villains as Captain Marvel and watching out for himself when he was on the streets. It was just a quiet moment between him and the strange creature that broke into his home. 
…He hadn't realized how lonely he was before this. 
He had friends, of course. Freddy, Tawky Tawny, and the Justice League. But… this just wasn't the same. As good as a friend Freddy was, he doubted that he would be willing to just sit and enjoy each other's company silently. Freddy was a huge superhero fan and couldn't help but talk about them in excitement. Not to mention his analyses on Billy’s techniques as Captain Marvel.
The Justice League wasn't any better. They had a professional relationship, thinking of him more as a coworker than a friend. The times he tried to deepen their friendship by inviting them out, he was unfortunately turned down. It seemed that they got along better when they were in battle than not.
Billy usually went to Tawky Tawny for advice, but Tawky Tawny never turned down the opportunity to just spend time in the other’s company. Unfortunately, those times were far and few between, usually because Tawky Tawny was traveling or busy with something else. 
With this creature— he’d have to name it eventually, Billy thought absently—all that was expected of him was companionship, nothing more.
Billy felt a cool paw pat his face, the creature looking up at him concerned. His eyes widened before he let out a huff, ruffling its hair. The creature let out a disgruntled chuff and phased through his hands then batted at them, settling down once more on his lap once it was done. 
It hadn't been with him long, all he had done was give it some food, and it was already trying to comfort him. Admittedly, it wasn't the best comfort, it stopped once he focused on it, but it wasn't something he expected from a creature he met not an hour ago.
Billy smiled, eyes soft. Perhaps it could stay, if only for a while.
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Whipped this up in a couple hours while trying to get out of my funk 
Thanks for reading!!
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Ao3
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lazycats-stuff · 11 months
Note
Hi!! Can you do a Batfamily x reader where he has like magic powers and is very reserved and after he gets hurt in a fight he goes to Dick and asks for a hug and calls him his brother for the first time and dick is so happy that he gets to be the first person reader opens up to and reader ends up sleeping in Dick’s room and it’s like the first time he’s ever fully relaxed and he just feels safe with his older brother (lots of brotherly fluff basically) Thanks!!!!!
Aww... That's cute. You got it.
Summary: (Y/N) opens up to Dick.
Warnings: fluff, unspecified injury, reserved reader, Dick is just happy that (Y/N) is opening up.
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Dick loves all of his little brothers. Some would say that he loved Damian more than the others, but that wasn't true. Damian was just reserved and Dick wanted him to open up to them, to not think that emotions are a weakness.
And that's when (Y/N) came. Bruce found him in a lab, being experimented on. From what Bruce could figure out about (Y/N) and the files he found, he was kidnapped from his home in a world that he couldn't even pronounce.
How the scientists knew where to look, he couldn't figure it out, but what mattered now is that (Y/N) is in a stable environment. Even with people who dress like a bat and birds.
Dick knew it would a challenge to get (Y/N) to feel comfortable. There was so much emotional turmoil in (Y/N)'s mind and he often exploded with anger.
Dick knew very well that anger was just a cover. Sarcasm too. Damian and (Y/N) have rivaled each other when it came to sarcasm. Alfred sometimes joined in and everyone tried to stay away when that was happening.
Jason thought he has died again and ended up in hell when he witnessed it for the first time. He simply turned back on his heel and walked back to his room.
Tim just looked at his coffee, assuming that it was spiked. It was either that or he just stayed up long enough to think that this is a bad hallucination.
Bruce just powered through it, getting his coffee, talking to (Y/N), trying to open up. The mere thought about training is off the table, afraid that it would trigger something.
So he called Zatanna and Doctor Fate. They are very experienced in what they do and magic teaching is not something that Bruce does with his kids. He knows a little bit about magic so what could he teach (Y/N)?
(Y/N) didn't want to show it, but he was nervous. He always masked himself with a mask of anger and sarcasm. He didn't like being taught everything about magic. More so when he was back in the lab being experimented on.
It was painful and he didn't want to think about those times. He blocked those memories to the best of his ability. Sometimes they would come when he was sleeping and he just couldn't sleep afterwards.
He felt to raw, too exposed and too vulnerable to go to bed, afraid to go to sleep in the fear of being taken once more. He knew his world, his home is destroyed. He tried to find it, but he couldn't. He couldn't go back now.
He was stuck here and there was nothing he could do. He heard about Batman from his captors and he didn't like him though to how dark he was, well, appeared to be dark. (Y/N) didn't like it a first, but then saw how strong Batman was.
No powers and more so a human. A human who fought alongside Gods and aliens. Now that is an accomplishment.
(Y/N) still remembers the day he was saved. He was weak from that day of testing and couldn't even move from the drugs he was forced to take and not to mention the fact that he overused his powers. He remembers the yelling, smell of smoke and somebody embracing him and the two flying upwards to avoid the flames.
At the time he didn't know Superman either so he was quiet and he tried to get out of his hold, but Superman held him tightly. He passed out from exhaustion and the next time he woke up was in a soft bed, where it was warm.
He was confused, but was just happy that he is nowhere near the lab. He was always tense whenever anybody came in and was sarcastic. He couldn't let his guard down. He knew that when he does drop his guard, he will be in the same situation as before.
Superman tried to talk to him, Zatanna has tried, but none of them had success. (Y/N) didn't want to open up and Bruce understood that. Bruce offered to take him home with him, where he could start his healing.
The next thing that (Y/N) knew, he was in a city that was named Gotham, in a manor outside of the city, but within the city bounds, surrounded by nature...
It was a big change for (Y/N). Add in on the fact that he got about five more people, six if you include Bruce, to live with. He wasn't a fan of people and everyone was slightly suspicious at first, but they grew to like him.
(Y/N) didn't grow to like anybody. He just tolerated them and accepted the fact that he won't be leaving this manor for a long while. He was suspicious of everyone and didn't trust them just yet. He will need to take his time trusting and everyone knew it. Dick knew it all to well.
Dick was the one who strived to get (Y/N) as comfortable as possible, doing everything in his power to do so. Damian has been a great practice for the other future siblings that may or may not be traumatized.
And emotionally reserved.
Dick helped (Y/N) with his anger outbursts. Dick knew all to well that it was just a cover for other emotions. Again, Damian. He knew that sarcasm is the best form of defense in casual situations and Dick quite enjoyed (Y/N) sarcasm. Pair it with Damian's sarcasm and you have the best sarcasm duel.
And if Alfred decides to join in... Well, then it's an absolute shitshow and it's the funniest thing ever. Tim and Jason are thinking that it's just an illusion or hallucination.
Nothing in between.
Dick laughed so hard that day that he nearly pissed himself. Dick could clearly see that (Y/N) enjoyed the banter too, but he was too proud to admit it. Damian was finally happy that somebody could match his sarcasm.
(Y/N) has been living with them for a little over a year now and Dick could see that (Y/N) got more comfortable. Zatanna and Doctor Fate were helping too and every time (Y/N) came back to the manor from the training session, he seemed more relaxed and happier.
It seemed that his nervousness slowly started fading away. Bruce was happy with himself. He had to thank Zatanna and Doctor Fate for allowing (Y/N) to open up, even if it's just a little bit. (Y/N) deserves a happy life, just like any normal human. Well, any being deserves to be happy.
Not just humans. Even magical creatures.
Since six months ago, (Y/N) had started going on patrol with them. He used his powers as his weapon and (Y/N) had to admit, it was fun. It's a lot of fun with the others, but (Y/N) was still reserved in his communications.
Dick saw that (Y/N) was getting more and more relaxed whenever they were just on and about in the city. Damian made sure to show (Y/N) his spots where Damian feeds the strays. And of course, he introduced (Y/N) to his strays.
It was all fun until tonight. It was a tough night from the start. The rouges were acting up from the beginning and there were kidnappings, robberies Riddler's shit and (Y/N) hated the fact that he had to deal with Riddler.
He loved to solve riddles and put puzzles together, but not when the Riddler is involved. He hated the man's ego and just wanted to put him somewhere out of this city.
Then it was Penguin who was selling weapons, drugs and organizing fights. Bruce has been on him for months on end and tonight was the night to get him and it was time to put him away.
Somehow Penguin had Solomon Grundy and (Y/N) has just had enough of off everything that night. The others shared the same sentiment, but Dick tried to rally them all together to keep everyone on their A game.
It didn't work well as night progressed. Somehow Deathstroke got involved, saying he got paid to so and (Y/N) wanted to rip his head off. Bruce took care of Deathstroke, although it was a difficult fight, he still won.
Most of the Gotham Rouges were in prison, including Deathstroke. Bruce was only thankful that Joker is not out and about. He thanked God at one point. He didn't have any stamina for anymore at this point and adrenaline has slowly been slowing down.
Slowly but steadily.
(Y/N) has felt it too. When adrenaline slowly vanished, (Y/N) could feel it deep in his bones. His body ached and then he noticed a stab wound. It wasn't deep, but it still hurt and throbbed.
It burned a little bit too, but all in all it was manageable. (Y/N) didn't let everyone know when they got back, but he went to his room to patch himself up. He didn't feel that comfortable to let someone dress his wounds.
He can do it himself, but... He didn't want to be alone tonight. The night has been draining mentally and he is beyond exhausted. Beyond. He used his powers too much and he just needed some rest.
He thought about going to Dick and his room. Will Dick accept him for going? Will he allow him to sleep in the bed with him? Well, he will get over the fear of rejection and go see Dick.
And that's what he did. He healed his wound before going and then walked down the hall. He knocked before entering. Dick looked up from his phone with a brow raised.
" What's up (Y/N)? " Dick asked.
" Can I stay with you tonight? " (Y/N) asked shyly and Dick nodded, scooting over, raising the covers. (Y/N) closed the door and just laid down next to Dick, who cocooned him into the covers. (Y/N) silently hugged Dick and Dick was over the moon.
(Y/N) is finally fully relaxed, both mentally and physically. Dick wanted to coo at him, but choose not to. He didn't want to ruin the moment with his cooing.
" Thanks Dick. For making me feel like your brother. " (Y/N) admitted and Dick melted inside.
It took everything in him not to lose it and outright coo at (Y/N). Every fiber of his being.
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sparkles-rule-4eva · 7 months
Text
🎵 Whoooo wants a nice little short 'n sweet post-Prime one shot with Sonic and Tails and some angst and also fluff and cuddles and nightmares and sadness and cuteness and the implementing of that one headcanon from the post I made about Sonic getting more cuddly and clingy when he's hurt or upset??? 🎵
Sonic Prime - Healing Hugs
Something had happened in the cave with Sonic. Tails was absolutely certain of it.
At first, it had just been pleasant changes, pleasant surprises. Sonic had suddenly switched to being a 100% team player, had started paying attention to each and every thing Tails instructed, and seemingly communicated with Shadow just as the Ultimate Lifeform arrived out of nowhere to Chaos Control the Paradox Prism to who-knows-where.
Then there had been the more weird changes.
Every time Tails opened his mouth, Sonic would drop everything to listen to every word with laser focus, even if it was about something as simple as what he was going to get for dinner or some cool comics he'd read. He was giving a lot more hugs, too, far more than usual. Sonic used to be a lot more selective about physical affection, but now, Tails couldn't seem to get through 30 minutes of a day without his older brother scooping him up in an embrace, however brief. Not that he was complaining, it was nice.
He kept catching the hedgehog lying around in the grass, fingering the green leaves with utter delight in his eyes. Once he found him on the beach, sitting in a palm tree and singing some kind of pirate-y sounding song. Another time he found him wandering slowly around the woods nearby, talking to the flickies about how pretty the trees were.
Something was off, but Tails couldn't put his finger on it. From his perspective, he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary happen during the battle in the cave, but Sonic's change in behavior made it painfully obvious something had.
Especially when the more negative changes started manifesting.
Not negative in a sense that Sonic was doing anything wrong. But he seemed . . . a little rattled. Some of his hugs were far more than just quick side squeezes. Sometimes he'd stare at Tails with an oddly pensive, faraway look in his eyes.
In bed, one night about a week after the cave incident, Tails found himself tossing and turning. These thoughts were driving him up the wall with how often they'd been occupying his mind lately.
He wanted so badly to sit down with Sonic and ask him what happened. He knew something had happened. But whether Sonic was willing to talk about it was another question entirely. He knew something was different, but he also knew his brother. Sonic didn't like uncomfortable conversations. If he felt unsafe, he would run.
Tails knew better than to confront him with questions that Sonic would likely not want to answer. If he'd wanted to tell Tails what was going on, what was different, he probably would've told him already.
With an exhausted sigh, Tails gave up trying to sleep and sat up in bed, casting a quick glance at the digital clock on his nightstand.
3:47 a.m.
Great. Even when I'm not working on a project, I STILL end up sleep-deprived. He smirked. At least Sonic can't get ticked at me this time, it's not my fault.
Speaking of the Blue Devil, he was right down the hall. Conked out on the couch, where he often slept. In fact, he'd been sleeping there every night for the past week.
Since he couldn't sleep, anyway, Tails slipped out of bed and crept down the hall, having memorized which boards creaked and which ones didn't. He half-hoped Sonic was awake so he'd have someone to talk to, but as he emerged into the living room, he saw his brother sound asleep, half-curled on his side.
Tails blinked and looked closer.
Sonic was asleep, but . . . he was also clinging extra tightly to his pillow. And he looked . . . incredibly stressed.
Was he having a bad dream?
Tails took a couple steps towards the couch until he stood right beside it. In past experiences where he'd found his brother having a nightmare, talking it out rarely helped. Sometimes even waking him up didn't help, either. He usually just wound up disoriented and panicking, and sometimes even ran off to deal with his feelings alone out in the wilderness.
Tails really didn't want him to leave. He also didn't want him to be alone.
He reached out and ever so gently placed his hand over Sonic's clenched fist, both ungloved.
One thing he had discovered about his brother during hard times like this was that he became more clingy. On the rare occasion he was visibly upset, he'd sometimes come up and just hug Tails without a word. When he was sick or injured somehow (and actually allowing himself to be taken care of), he tended to snuggle more. If he was in enough pain, he'd hold onto Tails as tightly as he could. Sometimes he'd do the same with their other friends, but Tails was always his go-to.
Not that it happened very often. Tails only knew these things because he'd known Sonic for most of his life. Sonic had raised him. He'd seen more of Sonic than anyone else had.
Now, he rubbed a finger over his brother's fist for a moment, then very carefully tugged the pillow out of Sonic's unconscious grasp. He set it softly on the floor, then carefully clambered onto the couch next to him, lay down, and hugged him tightly.
Without waking up, Sonic wrapped his arms around him in return and held him close, burying his face between Tails's ears with a barely audible whimper.
Tails could feel his brother's heartbeat racing, so he snuggled in closer and softly began to purr.
And, with time, he felt Sonic start to calm down.
A couple minutes went by, and his heart rate slowed down just a bit. The tension coiled throughout his entire body started to unwind, and his spiked-up quills lowered slightly in a more relaxed position. His ears were still kinda droopy, but he seemed a lot more restful than he had a few minutes ago.
Tails smiled, still bundled up tightly against Sonic. And his smile only grew wider when he felt his brother start purring, too.
There was something infinitely comforting about being held, about snuggling with his brother, the person who loved him to the moon and back. The person he loved in exactly the same way. For those moments, the very problems that had been keeping Tails awake half an hour earlier seemed to fade. He was here, Sonic was here, no words were spoken or needed, and they would be okay.
Tails slept soundly for the rest of the night.
-
The sound of flickies singing from the treetops woke Sonic the next day. He blinked blearily as his eyes came into focus, and he realized that Tails had joined him sometime during the night.
Once upon a time, waking up to find him right there had made him jump. It didn't anymore.
He smiled, carefully adjusting one hand so he could stroke his little brother's bangs and give him a tiny scratch behind one ear. Tails mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and snuggled closer in Sonic's chest.
He grinned wider. Tails hadn't been snuggly to this level in a while. Granted, he'd always been the more snuggly one of the two of them, but still. It kind of reminded Sonic of the first couple years he'd been taking care of Tails, when the kit was between 3 and 4 years old.
His smile faded a little as he thought of Nine at that age, still alone, still being bullied and hurt, with no one to save him and show him the love and care he deserved.
He could only hope that the other Shatterverse variants were showing him such kindness now. The thought that he would never get to see him again made his heart ache in a way he couldn't quell.
Sonic studied Tails's sleeping face, noting the intense similarities and differences between him and Nine. He wondered whether Nine had always existed even before the Shatter event, as a part of his little brother that Tails would never bring to light. Was it the same with Mangey and Sails?
A tiny snort escaped him against his will as he thought about whether Mangey's existence was an implication that a part of Tails just wanted to go a little feral. Sometimes he couldn't blame him.
His suppressed laugh had Tails stirring, blinking open his big blue eyes. He looked back at Sonic, grinning sleepily. "G'morning."
Sonic ruffled his bangs again, smiling as Tails giggled. "G'morning, little buddy."
Stop calling me that!
He froze at the memory of Nine's angry shout, and Tails clearly saw it.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a gentle, inquiring frown, slowly sitting up.
Sonic sighed as he sat up as well, leaning back to stretch, then pulled his little brother close again. "I've got a story for you, bud," he admitted, deciding it was about time to open up about what had really happened in the cave.
Tails gazed up at him with surprise, but then smiled and nodded.
"I'm listening," he replied quietly.
AO3 version
Did I come up with this while hugging a giant pillow during my nap earlier today? Maybe :3
I also maybe just really wanted to implement that headcanon somewhere teehee
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baileypie-writes · 9 months
Note
I was wondering if you could do some velvet x fem reader Angst with a fluffy ending, maybe velvet and y/n are both movie stars and a Interview tries to get with y/n and velvet gets all sad and cries and stuff
A/N ~ Sure! I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy it!
~I Don’t Like Him Like That~
Velvet x Fem!Movie Star!Reader
Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together
Relationship: Crushes to Relationship
Synopsis: You get asked out, and Velvet assumes her feelings for you are one-sided. However, that’s not the case.
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, minor angst, a man making Reader feel uncomfortable, crying(Velvet), Reader confessing her feelings for Velvet, Veneer is not present in this fic, cringey
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You were breathtaking. She could barely keep her eyes off you. Velvet thought it was a crime to look that good, but there you were.
The both of you were at a red carpet event for the premier of your new movie. The movie also featured Velvet’s new song. You guys being the biggest pop star and actor meant that you two were surrounded by people. But Velvet could hardly focus on interacting with them, because her eyes would keep trailing back to you.
You and Velvet had been friends for a while. You’d met on several occasions, and became closer and closer. Velvet didn’t want to admit it, but she was down bad for you. Your personality complimented hers perfectly, and you were so fun to be around!
Finally, the crowd around Velvet had thinned out enough, so she could slither her way through it to get to you. She had to wave and call your name a few times, which was mildly frustrating, but you eventually noticed her.
“Hey, Velvet!” You said enthusiastically. Before she could greet you back, a camera man motioned for the two of you to pose for a picture. You quickly got into position. Velvet had to hide her blush as much as possible when you put your hand around your waist, pulling her closer. The camera flashed a few times, and the camera man gave a thumbs up, signaling that he was done.
“Hey (name).” Velvet finally said. She wasn’t prepared for when you suddenly hugged her tightly, so her blush became a little more prominent. She loosely returned the hug.
“So, what did you think?” You asked, pulling away. You were referring to the movie, as the viewing had just finished.
“It was pretty good. Especially the scene where my song was playing.” Velvet said, gesturing to herself proudly.
You laughed. “Hey would you do me a favor and get me a drink? All these lights are making me hot!” You said, fanning yourself. Usually, Velvet would be the one having people get things for her, but she was just so eager to please you.
“Sure. Be right back!” She waved, and made her way to the food table. She poured a glass of water, since you didn’t ask for a specific drink. As she made her way back to you, she saw an interviewer interacting with you. She slowed her walking, and started listening to your conversation.
“Aren’t you a real beauty tonight, Miss (name)? Not that you aren’t all the time, haha!” His hand was on your shoulder, and he was very close to you. You didn’t seem bothered at all, though.
“Well thank you, Mister Zephyr. You’re too kind.”
“Oh please, Miss (name), call me Zeph.” He continued to flirt. Velvet felt anger built up in her. Who did that man think he was? But her anger subsided, and her heart sank at what you did next.
You layed your hand on top of his, and looked into his eyes. “Okay, well then you can just call he (name)!” Then you laughed. Your beautiful laugh. The one that always made Velvet’s heart happy. She felt her eyes start to water.
She rushed over to you, and basically shoved the drink into your hands. You tried to ask what was wrong, but she avoided eye contact. Velvet fled the main room, and made her way to a bathroom.
She cried. A lot. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. You looked so happy talking to that man. The look you gave him was so sweet and genuine. She had no chance against Zephyr.
~~~~
You had finally squeezed your way out of the crowd. You had to know what happened with Velvet. She looked so upset. You followed the direction you saw her leave in, but someone was still following you.
“Hey (name)! Where are you going?” Zephyr asked.
“I’m trying to find Velvet. She just left, and I-“
“Oh, you can worry about her later.” He interrupted, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you and I grab some champagne and get out of here? We could hang out in my car, just the two of us, what do you say?”
You were disgusted. You had tried your best to be nice to this man, even when he got uncomfortably close to you without your consent. Now, he completely ignored your ambitions, and tried to get you to go out with him.
You whipped your hand out of his. “I’m sorry, Zephyr, but I’m just not interested. What I am interested in is finding my friend. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave me be.” You quickly turned away, and continued what you were doing.
You had found a bathroom, and could faintly hear sobs on the other side of the door. You recognized that they belonged to Velvet.
You knocked on the door. “Vels? Are you okay? What happened?”
“Nothing! I’m fine!” She snapped back. “Why do you care anyway? Just go hang out with that guy. He seemed pretty interested in you.”
“Who, Zephyr? C’mon, Vels! I know you know that I can do better than that. Plus, he’s annoying. You’re much more fun to hang out with!”
The sobbing stopped. “Really? But you seemed so… happy with him.”
You sighed. “Yeah. I have to be that way with everyone. I don’t wanna seem rude. But I guess that backfired, because that made him think I was in love with him or something.” You laughed nervously.
There were a few moments of silence. Then, you decided to gather all your courage, and say something that’s been on your mind for a long time.
“So yeah, I don’t like him like that. But there is someone I do like.”
Velvet’s heart sank once again. She barely had any oxygen left in her lungs from crying to respond. “Who?”
“She’s on the other side of this door.” You nervously laughed. There was more silence, but it was eventually broken by the sound of the door unlocking.
It opened, and revealed Velvet. Her mascara was running down her face, and she had the most shocked expression you’ve ever seen. Without hesitating, you cupped her face, and kissed her. You felt relieved when she kissed back.
~~~~
You had helped Velvet get cleaned up, and you both decided that you’ve had enough of this event. You walked through the main room, towards the exit, hand in hand. People tried asking you questions, but you politely rejected them. All you cared about was getting to spend time with your new girlfriend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~baileypie-writes
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redbleedingrose · 2 years
Note
Hiya!
So sunday was my bday - and i was wondering if you had any sort of head cannons about Az - idk if this makes sense - like being posessive with a slightly insecure reader. Like say they are at a resturant or something and some is being rude to you and Az is just like 'Nah thats my girl' type vibe yk?
Sorry for always rambling.
Always much love and support through the days!
🍸
Hello my lovely devoted reader 🍸!!!
I am so sorry for the late reply! I hope you had the most amazing birthday!!
And please let me know what you think, hopefully you liked this and it met your expectations! 
Okay, so let's be so clear, Azriel is the most protective of the bat boys towards his mate. Like Cassian is always showing off his girl, and Rhys doesn't even feel the need to be protective because first off, he knows that they can take care of themselves and take anyone down, but also because he is so freaking cocky, he just knows that no one would be able to steal them away.
But Az?? Azriel is a protective to the max. He always has been and he always will be. Part of that comes from his Illyrian roots, and the intrinsic need to protect you. But also, he is secretly fearful that you would find someone else who is better than him. Because in his mind, he doesn't deserve someone as perfect as you. He doesn't deserve someone as beautiful, kind, elegant, funny, and intelligent as you. Another part of his protectiveness stems from the fact that you are his mate. His. The spymaster of the night court. Darkness incarnate. He has made many enemies throughout his five centuries of living. Enemies that would do just about anything to see his downfall, even if it means hurting an innocent female, especially if that means hurting the one person Azriel cannot live without, you.
And so...
He is silently always watching. When you are in the same room, he soaks in your presence, and cannot force himself to look away. Because you are the most stunning creature that he has ever met. Because you are the love of his life.
He also has ordered one of his shadows to constantly be around you. And he thinks you haven't noticed, but of course you have. You know your mate. You know his tendencies to be protective. You know the fears that he holds close to his chest, hidden away from everyone, even his brothers, but impossible to hide from you.
And honestly...
You don't mind the protectiveness. You actually bask in it.
You adore the little shadow that follows you around. It has become your silent friend who helps you with whatever task you are working on. Once, you were cooking dinner for you and Az, and the glass bowl slipped from your hands. Had his shadow not been there, the bowl would have shattered into thousands of little pieces. But the shadow was there. And in an attempt to protect you from any harm, it caught the bowl, lifting it back to your hands. And since then, anytime you ask the shadow to do something for you, it will.
You adore the way that Az stares at you. How he eyes you up and down in whatever it is that you chose to wear for the day. How you are the first person he looks for when he enters a room. How his gaze remains focused on you, even while in conversation with someone else. How he looks at you like you have placed every star in the sky. 
Before Azriel, you struggled with the way you looked.
But with him...
With him... with the way he glares at any male who has the gall to speak to you. With the way he practically worships the ground that you walk on. With the way his hazel eyes glow with reverence every time he catches your gaze. With the way he kisses you, so softly, so gently, with his hands cupping your cheeks and pulling you flush against him. With the way he touches you like you are holy, like you are a goddess that has graced him with your blessings. With the way he makes love to you, slow and smooth at first, savoring your scent, your body, your kisses. With the way it always devolves into desperation, into longing, into an ache that builds and builds and builds until saccharine release that floods the bond that ties your hearts and souls together. 
Release that has his pupils blown so wide, the depths of his iris’ disappear. Release that has his breathe stolen from him, gasping puffs of air against your lips. Release that has his entire body quivering, and his wings flaring to span across the bed. 
With him, you can’t help but feel like the Mother took her time creating you, perfecting you for the most handsome mate. Azriel stole almost every drop of insecurity that stains your self image. So rarely do you now experience the dark inkling of doubt in yourself. So rarely. 
But it does happen once every blue moon. 
And every time it does, Azriel is right there with you. Right in your corner. Slipping in murmurs of compliments and praise every chance he can get. Having his shadows curl around the curves of your body, and playing with your hair before tugging you towards their master so he can hold you in a tight embrace. Pressing soft kisses onto every inch of exposed skin you grace him with that day. And just like that, the small flame of insecurity flickers out. 
Only today... 
Today, Azriel was out on a mission all day, and would be meeting you at Mariana’s, the diner the shadowsinger took you to after you finally agreed to a date with him, “Just give me one night doll, just one, and I promise I will change your mind about me,” he murmured into your ear as he swayed your body against his on Starfall. That date had been the single event that solidified your feelings towards the powerful male. And since then, every month, you would meet at Mariana’s to share a milkshake like you had that night. 
Today, Azriel hadn’t been here to comfort you as you feel into a spiral of insecurity. His pulses of love down the bond were met with a wall of self doubt that you were holding tight. The dress that Azriel had bought you months ago was just not fitting you right. The way it clung to your hips felt awkward as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Eventually, you had moved to fixing your hair and smearing on a sheer lip stain, and even that hadn’t worked out as you had hoped. Your hair decided to not cooperate today, and your lip stain had only melted into the inner parts of your lips, making your mouth seem much smaller than it was. Despite not feeling good about the way you were looking, you knew in your heart that Az would look at you as though you were the center of his universe, and that soothed the dull ache as you placed the sapphire earrings on. 
You clutched at the wool of your colbat blue overcoat that matched the spymasters siphons, briskly walking through the rainbow to meet at the little table seated out in the corner of the patio, letting the wind brush through your hair. Azriel’s shadow followed dutifully behind you, snaking through the dark corners of the walkway. Unsurprisngly, the diner was packed to the brim, flowing with regulars and new customers. Mariana’s milkshakes were that of legend. You peaked above the heads that were seated, trying to spot the wavy onyx hair that belonged to your mate, but came up empty. You had shown up fifteen minutes early, and knowing your mate, he would likely show up in five. You both had a habit of showing up to your little excursions early, too excited to see one another again. And this time, you had chosen to meet right after his scheduled mission debrief with Rhys and Cass. 
You silently seated yourself at the table, resting your chin into the palm of your hand as the tiny shadow slithered around the restaurant, taking note of all the patrons who were within 50 feet of you. Your fingers stroked the checkered fabric that was placed over the table as you waited for your mate, content with the quiet chatter around you as a distraction from the excitement of finally being in Az’s arms again. 
You already knew how this would go. He, in his spymaster fashion, silent as the darkness that encompasses him in warm comfort, would seat himself in the chair right next to you instead of the one in front of you. You already knew he would card his scarred fingers through your hair, gently tugging you into a warm kiss before sliding your chair by the bottom right up to his. You already knew he would then wrap his arm around the back of your chair, allowing for his warmth that he seems to radiate to seep into your chilled skin, before signaling the waiter to come take your order. That is how things always go between you. That is how it has always gone between you. 
So you certainly weren’t expecting for this random male to slide into the chair across from you. 
And you certainly weren’t expecting for him to reach out and grab a hold of your wrist with his cold, slightly wet palm from what you could only hope was sweat. 
Startled by the sudden contact from a male who was practically a stranger, you gasped trying to yank your arm out of his hold, “Excuse me.” 
But the blonde males grip on you was tight. Unrelanting. “You’re excused sexy,” he smirked at you, leaning in closer to your face with all sense of personal space apparently gone, the alcohol in his breath wafted into your nose had you nearly gagging. “What’s a gorgeous lady like yourself sitting her all alone looking pretty?” he jeered at you, ignoring the obvious discomfort that was strained across your face. The cold whisper of Azriel’s shadow had wrapped around your wrist, helping you in the effort to pull your arm away as you calmly replied, “I’m here with my mate. Leave me alone.”
His smirk dropped at your statement, a dangerous glint flashed across his blue eyes that had darkened into ice, “I’m just talkin’ to you, you stupid bint. You think you’re better than me?” The grip he had on your wrist tightened, nearly cutting off the circulation as Azriel’s shadow shot away, seemingly to warn his master of the situation that was unfolding. Panic started to roll through you in heaves, unintentionally and unknowingly signaling Azriel through the bond.  
Finality was set in your tone as you attempted once more, this time, with much less kindness and a lot more threat laced through your words, “Let go of me right now or else-” The male cut you off, slamming your wrist he had hold of into the table, “Or else what? You know what? You’re a waste of time. Pathetic fucking whor-” 
You felt the sting of insecurity steep into you. A random male stating your deepest insecurity at fact. That you were a waste of time. That you would never be good enough. Not for Azriel, your wonderful perfect mate. 
You didn’t have time to respond back. You didn’t have time to process the emotion. You honestly didn’t even see what really happened. One second, the male was belittling you so close, you could feel drops of his spit marring your skin. 
The next, the male was screaming bloody murder as darkness swarmed you. 
What brought undeniable terror to the male had brought you utter comfort and peace as shadows began dancing around you. The grip that had no doubt left bruises on your wrist, was gone. You could feel the warmth of your mate, his eucalyptus and midnight rain scent overwhelming you into a deep sense of safety. As you squinted your eyes through the mist of darkness, you could barely make out truth teller sticking in through the males hand and into the wood of the table that was covered by the checkered cloth. You could feel the rage radiating off your mate as his shadows dissapatted, allowing you and every other patron seated close to watch as the spymaster brought down his wrath on this male. 
“Or else me,” Az’s voice was deepened into a void. A shiver shot down your spine at the display of power that was sending pools of attraction at the apex of your thighs. “She is mine. Mine. My mate. How dare you speak to her? How dare you lay your flithy fucking hands on her, you insolent fool?” Any cockiness the drunk male had displayed was gone, sobered from the pain of the spymaster’s dagger slammed through his hand and into the table, trapping him in his own blood that was pouring out of the wound. One of your mates hands was clutching the truth teller by the hilt so tight, his scarred knuckles were pure white. The other hand was locked at the males neck, choking him in place as he stammered out apologies and pleas for mercy that were ignored by darkness incarnate. 
A sudden gust of wind from your left with a resounding thump had you shifting your gaze away from the scene that was unfolding, to Cassian approaching you, Azriel, and the male wearing the mask of general to the night court. His large hand squeezed your shoulder softly before he leaned over to murmur something into Azriel’s ear. At first, your mate didn’t budge from his position, too focused on the now crying male. Only after sending a tug down your bond did his attention snap towards you. 
He wrenched truth teller from the males hand, another scream resounding as Cassian made quick work of knocking the male out with a hard punch to the jaw, and then throwing the male over his shoulder to fly away to the jail where he would await interrogation and subsequent punishment. 
Azriel stayed focused on you, completely unbothered by the male, darting his eyes up and down your figure to check for any injuries. He reached out a shaking hand, hesitating as if he were scared you feared him after seeing what he was capable of. Silly male. 
You smiled at your mate, clasping your fingers through his to rub at the thickened skin, bringing his hand up to press in soft kisses. He pulled you out of your chair, swiftly sliding his arms to wrap around your waist, lifting you up off the ground to where you instinctivly wrapped your legs around his waist. 
He shot through the sky, his grip on you solid and warm, grounding almost. Any insecurities that had been creeping through your mind slowly began to slip away as he whispered words of comfort into your ear, only to be heard by you, his shadows, and the stars that lined the sky. When you reached your home, his grip on you hadn’t loosened until he was tossing you onto the bed, immediately following your flying form and dropping his body on yours. 
His hands stroked at your cheeks and hair, “Are you okay doll? I could feel the panic through the bond and I nearly ripped the fools head off when your shadow told me what was happening.” You hummed, nudging your nose against his as you nodded, soaking in the attention your mate was giving you, preening at the strokes of love and overprotectiveness he was sending down the bond. “I’m fine Az, really.” 
But your mate is your mate. He is also the spymaster of one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, courts in Prythian. Nothing slips past him, especially where you are concerned. He could read you like an open book. He could sense your emotions like they were his own. 
“Nothing, and I mean nothing, he said was true. You aren’t a waste of space. You are the definition of utter perfection. And he was pathetic to think you would use any of your valuable time on him,” you scoffed out a laugh at the gentle words of your mate, but he only pressed his forehead further into yours, his lips brushing against your chapped lips as he continued, “You are mine. My mate. and I am yours. Only yours. No matter how undeserving I may be, the mother has given you to me. And me to you. I love you more than words could describe. The constant awe that I feel around you is beyond any phrase I could use. Every day, I find a new reason to fall for you.” 
He locked his lips to yours in a firm kiss, leaning back only a couple of centimeters after a moment, “Darling, I am so in love with you. I have always been in love with you. And I will always be in love with you.”
And just like that, the sneaky spymaster had stolen every ounce of chilling self doubt and insecurity, replacing it with the warmth of his love, “I am in love with you too Azriel,” you murmured into his plump lips, pecking them after every whispered word. 
AHHHH okay what did you think?!?! Let me know your thoughts in the comments! Please like, reblog, and comment! I always love the interaction, and as always I am so happy and thankful for all the support I do receive. I hope that you all took your medications, had something to eat, and took a sip of water. 
And again, to my devoted beautiful lovely 🍸, I hope you enjoyed. And Happy belated birthday my sweet <3
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aziraphales-library · 4 months
Note
Hi, I love LOVE you all for this blog! Thank you for doing this for the community 🥰
I wonder if you can recommend some loooong multi-chapter E-rated Human AUs of a particular flavor. I tend to like ones where there is a meeting early on, a bit of pining, plenty of spicy interludes and not tooooo much angst in the story line. Bonus points for chubby/fat Aziraphale my beloved.
My absolute faves are Under Construction and Car Trouble by @summerofspock and Petrichor and Parchment by @katnoggin.
If you can make anything of this, I'd be eternally grateful! Thank you!
Hello! We have plentiful #human au and #long fic tags, so do have a root around those for more fics that will fit the bill. Here are some with the details you've requested, most of which I don't think we've recommended before...
Lavender Apiary Of Your Honey Eyes by snek_of_eden (E)
The first thing Aziraphale registered was fiery red hair matted with sweat. The second thing was the man’s face, sharp and intelligent and a little guarded, sunlight dappling a spray of freckles. Upon seeing this, two contradictory thoughts crossed his mind: ‘Gosh, he’s pretty’, and ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a man use that many expletives in the space of a minute’. “Oh,” he said, swallowing hard. “Hello, then.” __________ When Aziraphale inherits a small, cosy cottage in the countryside, he finds unexpected company in a gardener he didn't even know he had. Crowley is sweet, and strange, and about as foul-mouthed as you can get. Before he knows it, he's falling pretty goddamn hard for a man whose friendship he's terrified of risking. Ah, the foils of love.
Angel in the Window by themaybedoctor (E)
Aziraphale has the best job a young bookworm could ever hope for—he works the evening shift at an independent bookshop, just a stone's throw away from Tadfield College, where he's only a few months away from getting his degree. He likes the location in Tadfield's cosy downtown, the friendly regulars, and his coworker, Newt. But most of all, he likes having the key to the biggest treasure trove of books he's ever seen. Aziraphale knows that he's not going to make friends sitting in the dark shop at night, alone with a book and some chocolate, but that's all right. He's not lonely while he has a book, which means he's hardly lonely at all. Really. Crowley works at a record shop, and he's got the biggest crush on the cutie working at the bookshop next door. Whose name he doesn't even know, because he's too awkward to ask. At least nobody's noticed. If his co-worker Anathema found out, he'd never hear the end of it. A story about bravery, misunderstandings, acceptance, and love.
Romeo in Black Jeans by Caedmon (E)
Popular fashion designer, Crowley, meets a beautiful man at his best friend's show, and it's love at first sight. He is determined to make Aziraphale fall for him, too... if only he could get Aziraphale to stop running so hot and cold.
and now all of my garden is grown in lavender by ilikeblue (E)
Popular queer romance author, A.Z. Fell, has been lying about having a husband and a happy marriage for years. Longing to escape a string of failed relationships and looking for a fresh start, Aziraphale moves into the cottage left to him by his Great Aunt Agnes. When a TV adaptation of one of his books leads to sudden popularity and throws him into the limelight, his fans (and the press) are eager to catch a glimpse of Aziraphale's own mysterious leading man. Unfortunately, he still has to cast someone for that role. Enter the handsome gardener… Under Crowley's meticulous care the cottage's neglected garden slowly comes back to life, and Aziraphale finds himself writing the most important love story he'll ever write: his own
Argumentum a fortiori by PeturbingPrism (E)
"From the stronger argument", the Good Omens Alternate Universe barristers fic you never knew you wanted! Crowley could be a rising star at Brimstone Chambers, if he could control his temper and apply himself. Aziraphale is on the edge of losing not only his job, but his entire family over a disagreement over which organisations he has granted funds to through his beloved Miracle Foundation, the philanthropic arm of his his family's angel investment firm. Anathema tries to help her old friend out by introducing him to the only lawyer she knows who might be crazy enough to take on the might of Celeste & Sons. Two people with different ways of dealing with their issues strike up an unlikely friendship, leading to love and healing. Lots of bickering, bookshop silliness, boozing, bentley rides, shared desserts and blushing.
Divine Restorations & Repairs by skimmingthesurface, SylWritesStuff (E)
While it's unfortunate for one’s car to break down in the middle of the countryside, the pretty-as-a-postcard Tadfield could hardly be considered the worst place Anthony J. Crowley has ever been. Of course, it doesn’t help that it looks like it hasn’t yet seen the turn of the millennia, let alone this decade, but perhaps that’s just what he needs as he crawls his way out of the Hell he’s endured for the past fifteen years. Maybe the last thirty, if he's honest with himself. Though he could do without the rain. When Aziraphale Fell happens upon him and offers him shelter from the storm in his little family-run antique repair shop, neither are expecting it to change everything. The angel with his white umbrella and his tartan bowtie doesn’t expect this mysterious stranger to be able to fill the timely vacancy in his shop or the quiet of his life, but they’ve both had experience in restoring once-beloved items back to their full glory. Perhaps Crowley hasn’t fallen quite so far that he wouldn’t fit in with the rest of Aziraphale’s ragtag team of eccentric restoration experts. And perhaps they may be able to turn that talent on themselves and each other, and seal the cracks in their own hearts.
- Mod D
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slaybestieslay946 · 6 months
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pairing: paul atreides x reader
word count: 2000
warnings: light angst with a happy ending
summary: you are the empress of the known universe alongside paul atreides, however, you dont agree with what hes doing, so you give him an ultimatum.
You had always loved the rain. Especially on Caladan. Yes, on your home planet it had rained fairly frequently, but it wasn’t the same. The rain on Caladan came down by the bucket full, not measly little drops. Each minute sheets of water fell from the sky like rolls of silver fabric. 
The only thing that lulled you to sleep more effectively than rain on a window, was the slow, contented breathing of your husband beside you, and the slow movement of his fingers brushing against your waist. Every now and again he’d re-adjust his position to get even closer to you. 
Usually he fell asleep before he was practically clinging to you, but tonight was not one of those occasions. 
“Paul,” You laughed breathily, pushing away from him a bit in order to spin in his arms and face him. 
He groaned in complaint as you moved away from him and opened his eyes blearily. 
“Why’re you moving away…” He complained, trying to pull you back to him. 
“Because you’re practically on top of me, I’m not a hot water bottle.” You chided, although the teasing smile on your face gave away your true feelings. 
“No, you’re better.” He said, a sly smile on his face, “Now c’mere, I’m cold.” 
You sighed, but did as he said, tugging his arm around you and lacing your fingers together. 
You could feel Paul’s smile on the back of your neck as he found a way to hold you even closer. 
“I love you.” He whispered, and you replied in kind, the smile that formed on your face certain to match the one he was currently wearing. 
“Promise you’ll stay with me?” 
“Mhm. I promise.” 
Now, as you paced nervously around the hangar, you couldn’t help but think back to that promise you had made. At the time, you thought that nothing could tear you away from Paul Atreides, not the sun nor the stars. 
Of course, you could never have planned for him becoming Emperor of the known universe. And you could have never known that it would be him tearing the both of you apart. 
At first, when you had been planning your escape, you had hoped that the aircraft would arrive before your husband. That was before you remembered who your husband was now. He would notice you were gone almost immediately, so you had to plan for confrontation, not avoid it. 
“What is this?” A voice came from the entrance to the hangar, echoing through the cavernous room and into your ears. He didn’t sound angry, merely confused.
You turned to face him and his expression was just what you thought it would be, torn between angry and distressed. In his hand, he held the note which you had written, telling him to meet you down here.
“I am leaving, Paul. For Caladan.” You said firmly, turning to face him. 
He smiled weakly, shaking his head, “Why all the smoke and mirrors? If you wanted to return home you should have said so. I would have prepared a ship for us both-”
“Because I am not going with you.” You interrupted, your voice harsh.
“What do you mean? It is not exactly typical for the Empress to leave her husband days after the coronation.” He laughed, but it was not the melodic sound you had once loved, instead it was forced, choked even. 
“Well, you are not the typical Emperor. I am leaving, and you will not follow me.” You stated, remaining firm, even as your heart threatened to betray your mind and run back to him. 
Paul just stared at you, his face painted white in shock. 
“Why?” He asked, his voice cracking.
“Because I can no longer stay by your side and watch you become this. You are becoming someone I do not recognise.” 
“My love, what are you talking about-?”
“I'm talking about this, Paul! Your holy war! You do remember that, don’t you? The war you swore to me you’d do anything to stop? And now, here you are, at its forefront.”
“I had no choice.” He said, his eyes hardening slightly.
“You always have a choice. You are their so-called ‘messiah’. Their emperor. They would fly into the sun if you asked them to. So ask them, stop this war before it consumes everything.”
“You know it is not that simple!” He shouted, and you couldn’t help but flinch slightly before rallying yourself.
“The man I married on Caladan would not have cared about simplicity. He would have cared about what was right, what was moral! He would never have entered this conflict, he would have laid down his life to prevent it! And I would have been right beside him.” 
“This conflict was inevitable! I am doing my very best to minimise the damage, can’t you understand that?”
“I understand that you are still not doing enough.”
Paul looked at you, incredulously, anger filling his gaze, “Really? How can I do more when my own wife does not believe in me! You claim to support me, and yet now you are leaving me. My position is still weak, and you leave the only man you have ever claimed to love.”
“Your position! You are faced with the massacre of your people and all you can speak of is your position!?. Have you no soul left Paul? Did it melt away on Arrakis, scorched by the sun?” 
Suddenly all the anger and venom drained from Paul’s face, and he found himself dropping to his knees, and begging you to stay. 
“You are my soul. You have been all these years. You keep me balanced, you are my morality, my goodness. Everything I do is for you, my love, for your safety. I only care about my position for it is your position also, all the power I have acquired is only in the name of keeping you from harm.”
You looked at him, staring deeply into his eyes, that piercing blue that you had thought so beautiful when they finally changed. Now they were just a reminder of how much he had changed since coming to this awful place. 
“I want to believe you. But you have always had such a way with words. I watched the way you deceived those people into following you, is that what you’re doing now?” 
He rose to his feet again, taking your hands in his. His face was frantic with fear. 
“I would never deceive you. I mean every word, I’ve felt this way my whole life. You are the most important thing to me. You know I would never lie to you.”
For the first time since the conversation began, you hesitated slightly. Could you believe him? Eventually, you landed on an answer. 
“...I do. You would never lie to me on purpose. You are lying to yourself too Paul. You know that I have never wanted position, nor power, heavens, I have never even wanted safety! All I have ever wanted is you, wholly, truly, with no barriers-”
“And you have me!” 
You reached up to splay your hand across his cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from his blue-blue eyes. 
“No, I don’t have you. I have splinters of you, and I fear the rest is lost. You may bear the resemblance of the man I love, but you are not him.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. 
Suddenly there was the immense whirring of gears, and you knew your ship was here to take you to Caladan.
“I’m afraid we do not have much time, so listen to what I say,” He didn’t react, his face remaining desperate and heartbroken, but you continued anyway.
“If you finally realise what you have done, and you fix it, come to me on Caladan. But I don’t want to see the Muad’dib, or the ‘Messiah’, or the Kwisatz Haderach. The only man I wish to see is my husband, Paul Atreides. Remember that Paul.” 
You gave him one last longing look before turning away from him, and making towards the ship that was emerging from the floor of the hangar.
“I’ll see you again?” He called, his voice cracking slightly as he stared after your retreating form in defeat. 
“Hopefully so, my love, hopefully so.” 
And with that, you stepped onto the outstretched platform of the ship, and shut the door behind you. Paul stayed in the hangar until the craft was gone, biting his tongue so as not to call out to you again and beg you to stay.  
*
The message that the Emperor would be coming to visit you had come far sooner than you expected.  
And you were disappointed in him. He was breaking your agreement, and so soon. It had only been a year, and to your knowledge there had been no change in the situation.
 Perhaps he was coming to ask for a divorce, maybe he’d found someone else since you left. That would certainly be ironic, considering the way he had begged for you to stay on Arrakis. 
However, you were incorrect, because only a few days later a messenger came to tell you that the jihad had ended.         
Immediately you leapt out of your seat, clasping your hand over your mouth in shock. He had done it. 
For the next few days, Castle Caladan was abuzz with preparations for the Emperor returning home. You oversaw said preparations with a watchful eye, and though you wouldn’t admit it, you were happier than you had been in years. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you had missed Paul terribly. 
Yet, when his ship landed, you were nowhere to be found. 
“Where is my wife?” Paul asked one of your ladies in waiting as he strode through the halls of his childhood home. 
“My lord, she left on a walk to the cliffs this morning, and has not returned since. Would you like me to send someone to fetch her?”
The Emperor’s harsh expression softened slightly. “No, I’ll go.” 
It didn’t take Paul long to work out where you had gone, and as he climbed one of the paths up to the cliffs, he was glad to see you sitting on one of the benches, clad in the green silks of house Atreides. 
He called your name, and his voice cut through the gusting winds into your ear, and you turned to face him with a searching look on your face. 
You stood, and couldn’t help but jog towards your husband, gathering your skirts so you didn’t trip and make a fool of yourself. However, you stopped short of running into his arms, opting to stand just in front of him so you could inspect his face properly. 
“Is it you, Paul? Have you finally come back to me?” You asked, your voice cracking slightly. 
“It’s me,” He whispered, reaching a hand out to touch you, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, what I was doing was wrong, and I know that now, and-!”
You cut off his rambling apology by surging forwards into his arms and kissing him fiercely. He immediately responded in kind, wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head in his hand, whilst you held onto the lapels of his coat as tightly as you could. 
Despite the fact you wanted to stay like that forever, eventually the need for oxygen prevailed, and you broke away to take a deep breath in, laughing lightly at the sight of his flushed face. 
He grinned at you, moving the hand that was on the back of our head back to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face. 
“You missed me?” He asked, teasing, but his voice had a slight edge of concern to it. 
“Yes. I missed you so much.” You said immediately, emphatically. Because you had missed Paul, it felt as if you hadn’t seen the real him for years, and the feeling of being reunited was almost too much for you to contain. 
He let out a short sigh of relief, “I missed you too. But it’s ok, because I’ve fixed it all. They still think I’m their messiah, but I’m going to stop acting like it. And you were right, I was power hungry, and selfish, and I exploited so many people, and I betrayed you, and-”
“Enough, Paul.” You said, looking at him with so much care that he couldn’t help but smile softly, “Yes, you have made mistakes, but it wasn’t all your fault. And you’ve made a change now, you’re doing the right thing. And I’ll always be there for you. I had to leave to help you, but I knew we’d see each other again. And here we are, back home, just like old times.” 
“You’re right.” 
“I often am, my love.” 
He wrapped his arms around you once again, “Will you stay with me, here?” 
You nodded, “Mhm. I’ll stay for good this time.”
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weevil-wallflower · 4 months
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Scars
Cal Kestis x Reader
Summary: Even a Jedi Knight needs some reassurance from time to time.
Warnings/Tags: Spoilers for Jedi: Survivor, canon-typical violence, SFW, no use of Y/N, minor angst.
A.N.: My fifth entry for Cal Kestis Week 2024! It follows the Day 4 prompt ‘Scars’. I've been meaning to get this one out like four days ago, on the last day of Cal Kestis Week but unfortunately work and studies prevented me from finishing it on time. And yes, another older prompt but I simply had to use this idea! Gif by me!
Also on AO3!
Word Count: ~1,600
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The final moments of Cal’s fight with Dagan were a blur of pain and fury. As the duel between Cal and Dagan came to a brutal end, Dagan’s lightsaber struck Cal across his chest, sending a shockwave of agony through his body. The sizzling sound of burning flesh filled the air as Cal staggered, his tunic scorched around the fresh wound while his lightsaber clattered to the floor.
The redhead clutched the wound as he felt the charred fabric of his tunic cling to the cauterised wound. The world around him flipped as he collapsed to the ground, his vision narrowing to the sight of Dagan’s triumphant sneer.
Taking in a deep breath and pushing away the pain for the moment, Cal Force-pulled his lightsaber towards him and used one of Dagan’s own hallucinations against him. He focused intently, allowing the Force to shape his image into that of Santari, Dagan’s late friend. The vision caught Dagan off guard, his defense faltering as he grappled with the apparition of the one person who he trusted most. Seizing the opportunity, Cal's lightsaber blazed with lethal accuracy, piercing right through Dagan's chest. Dagan's pained scream was mixed with a sizzling sound as the blade tore through muscle and bone. Cal twisted the sword, guaranteeing a fatal strike.
Just as victory appeared to be imminent, Dagan used the Force to painfully seize Cal's body, suspending him mid-air. Dagan’s voice, filled with rage and desperation, rang through the chamber as he yelled about Tanalorr, his dream fading away. Cal struggled against the invisible grip, his own strength waning.
BD-1, seeing the peril his friend was in, acted swiftly. With frantic beeps and nudges, the little droid managed to wake Bode, who had previously been rendered unconscious by Dagan. Realising the dire situation, Bode aimed his blaster at Dagan and fired, the shot breaking Dagan’s concentration and releasing Cal from his grasp.
With a final lethal strike to across the chest, Cal sent Dagan crumpling to the ground, his body twitching as the life drained from his eyes. Cal stood over him, his chest heaving with the effort and pain of the fight.
Bode slowly approached the redhead, his expression a mix of relief and concern. “Cal, are you okay?” He asked, his voice tinged with worry.
Cal glanced at Bode, his face a mask of determination despite the agonising pain in his chest. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice strained. All he wanted was to get away from there and be in your comforting arms.
Bode studied him for a moment, seeing through the facade but deciding not to press further. He placed a reassuring hand on Cal's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You did good, brother," Bode said softly, his tone filled with warmth. "Go on ahead. I'll stay and survey the area. And see if I can find a manual for that compass or something..."
Cal nodded, a wave of gratitude washing over him at Bode's support. "Thanks, Bode," he replied, his voice a bit more genuine.
With a final look at his fallen foe and a nod to Bode, Cal turned and made his way back towards Pyloon’s Saloon. Hand pressed to the wound on his chest, each step sent a wave of pain radiating through his body but he forced himself onwards, driven by the need to be with you. He knew that in your arms, he would find the solace and comfort he desperately needed.
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When he finally entered your shared quarters below Pyloon’s Saloon, stumbling in through the back door—most likely to avoid everyone in the cantina—You were already there waiting for him, your expression one of great concern. As soon as Cal stumbled in, BD-1 hopped down from his back, rushing over to You with worried beeps about the Jedi.
“Cal,” You said softly, rushing over to his side. “Let me take a look at that.”
He nodded, his emerald eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and resignation. His tunic sported a burnt slash across his chest where the lightsaber had struck him, the fabric singed and charred around the wound. Carefully, You guided him to sit on the bed, your touch gentle but firm. You gently pried his tunic off, being careful not to aggravate the wound further before You began to examine the injury. BD-1 perched on your shoulder, his beeps and chirps a constant stream of worry as he watched You work.
When the wound came into view, You couldn’t help but gasp at the horrible sight, your heart aching for the pain Cal had endured. The wound was a searing, angry red slash across his chest, blackened at the edges and blistered from the intense heat of the lightsaber.
The silence in your quarters was thick with unspoken words. As You worked, Cal couldn’t help but shakily trail his fingers over the fresh slash on his chest, wincing at the pain but also more at the thought of yet another mark added to his already scarred body. Each one told a story of pain and survival, a testament to the battles he had fought. His body was already littered with scars—what was another?
The redhead’s mind swirled with anguished thoughts. How could You, someone so beautiful and kind, love someone like him? How could You look at his scarred body and see anything other than ugliness—to see someone who was capable of more than just war and violence? The doubts gnawed at him, twisting in his gut like a knife.
After cleaning the wound and sealing it with a bacta patch, You looked up at him, your eyes solemn. “This will scar,” You said quietly, your voice tinged with sadness.
Cal forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, it’s just another one for the collection, right? Sure to impress you...”
Despite his playful words, the tone of his voice was heavy with sorrow. You could see the weight of his past experiences and hardships pressing down on him, the scars not just on his skin but deep within his soul.
You paused, your hands still on his chest and met his gaze with a gentle, unwavering look. “Cal,” You said softly, “you could be doing anything at all—something as simple as planting a seed in the cantina’s garden—and you would still impress me.”
The sincerity in your voice penetrated his defenses, and for a moment, the pain and fear melted away. He looked at You, really looked, and saw the depth of your care and admiration for him. It wasn’t the scars that defined him in your eyes, but the strength, courage and kindness that lay beneath them.
A lump formed in Cal’s throat as he struggled to find the right words. “You have no idea how much that means to me…” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. In that moment, the weight of his battles felt lighter, the burden of his scars less daunting.
You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of fiery hair from his forehead. “I do, Cal. And I’m here with you, scars and all.”
BD-1 let out a soft, comforting beep, hopping down from your shoulder to nestle closer to Cal to affirm your words.
Under the soft light of your shared quarters, as the tender moment between You and Cal lingered, You were overcome with a sudden urge to reassure him of your love and acceptance, scars and all. Gently, You leaned in and pressed a tender kiss around the fresh slash on his chest, feeling the tension in his body begin to melt away. Cal’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as he absorbed the warmth of your touch.
Moving upwards, You kissed the long scar on his upper right jaw, your lips lingering on the raised line, and tingling from the roughness of his short beard. You then moved to the small scar across his right eyebrow, kissing it softly. Eyes still closed, Cal’s mind was rampant with emotions he could barely contain. His heart pounded in his chest as the contact sent a shiver down his spine. Each kiss was like a balm, soothing the lingering pain and doubts that haunted him.
Next, You placed a delicate kiss on the scar across his nose, before your fingers gently traced the path of the old wound. Cal’s hands, which has been tightly gripping the edge of the bed, slowly relaxed, moving up to rest on your waist as if seeking the comfort and stability that only You could provide.
Finally, You reached the small scar that ran across his lower lip. You pressed your lips against it tenderly, feeling the slight roughness beneath the softness of his skin. Cal’s eyes opened, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The anguish in his heart was replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.
When You finally pulled away, You gazed into Cal’s emerald eyes and saw tears silently streaming down his cheeks. Your heart clenched at the sight, but before You could voice your concerns, he softly assured You, “They’re tears of happiness.”
A giggle escaped your lips, the sound joyful and filled with relief. “I’m glad,” You whispered, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “Because you mean everything to me, Cal.”
Cal pulled You into a tight embrace, his strong arms holding You close as if You were his anchor in a storm. The weight of his scars felt lighter now, due to a reminder of your love and acceptance. And as You nestled against him, You knew that together, you both could face anything, bound by a love that was stronger than any scar could be.
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oneshlut · 7 months
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Ok, first off, love love Love your yandere Flug headcanons! I am injecting them into my veins as we speak. On that note, could you write something branching off of that base idea but with the twist that reader is 100% supportive of Flug being a yandere? Could be anything from just accepting his love to actively encouraging him to kill people for them. Thank you for your time, hope you have a great day!
A/N: ooh, of course!! i was actually planning to do this with yandere dating hcs for flug since someone had requested for a general pt2 of these hcs, so thanksies for the request!! accepting x yandere is so horrifically adorable <33 (also SO HAPPY you liked my previous hcs!!)
Two of Hearts (Yandere!Dr. Flug x Willing!Reader) [Headcanons]
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Rules For Requesting
Characters I Will Write For
Masterlist
WARNINGS: Mentions of homocide, depictions of blood, unhealthy obsessions, yandere themes, general dead dove contents!!
Summary: General headcanons for a yandere Dr. Flug with an accepting/supporting reader for his behavior
Extra Info: This does NOT condemn yandere behaviors irl. Purely fictional scenario, do not support this toxic behavior in others. im sure you all know that though <33
Love can escalate. When it does, it escalates fast. This escalation can range from a proposal in a matter of weeks, a date in a matter of days, to murder in a matter of hours. Often times, Flug's love escalated to murder. He has before for you, and he would again.
Being a "real" villain gives Flug some sort of confidence boost. He hardly stutters, never cowers in fear, and opts to make extremely bold decisions. Decisions he wouldn't normally make. Well, the first and most obvious would be homocide--but he also gains the confidence to confess to you.
He wouldn't dare kidnap you, though! Of course, not if you took it well! Luckily, things didn't have to go that way, since you agreed to be his boyfriend.
Wait, what.
It wasn't that huge of a shock. I mean, he knew you'd either say yes or no, but he was fully prepared to receive a no. I guess that chloroform-laced cloth in his pocket wasn't necessary after all! He was ecstatic to be yours! As long as you didn't find out about anything he was doing, the two of you would hold up well!
Hah, that wouldn't last long. He was confident with himself at first, but now that you're together for real? All his confidence was immediately swept away when you kissed him for the first time--that or when you first told him "I love you". It really made him put things into perspective--he was yours. And you were his. Flug was more lovesick than ever, more than he had realized. It was adorable, watching him trip over himself anytime you walked into the room.
It was now over a month of the two of you being together, and both of you were happy with your relationship! Flug was still pretty confident you wouldn't find out about what he was doing, and you were.. Actually, you were slowly gaining suspicion.
Over time, you began to notice small flaws in his usual behavior. Very small flaws, yes, but not too small to go unseen. Some of these would be nice, such as Flug going out of his way to get you something on an outing. This would be normal, if it wasn't every outing. And on other days, he would just switch up and do the complete opposite--not noticing you when you greeted him, spacing out while just.. staring at you.. or he would respond to you in two word sentences. He was either in a whole other world, or completely caught up in yours. It was distracting how easily he could just.. switch. It put you off, but you decided to ignore it for the most part.
One day, he came home extremely silent. Actually, you hadn't even noticed he had left in the first place. You watched as he retreated to his room--seperate from his lab. Not even a hello, nor an answer to your simple questions as he walked. You began to fear that he was ignoring you. What could you have done wrong..? That, or he was just spacing out again, which felt a bit unlikely.
Slowly gaining curiosity, you decided to take a small visit to his lab. Maybe 5.0.5. knew something? In all honesty, you weren't just "curious".. you were worried. Unfortunately, taking this visit to his lab didn't help with that feeling of worry at all. Opening the door with a painfully loud creak, you were stunned to find the place in shambles. It wasn't messy in the way it looked like a break-in--no, it looked man made. Some of the lights were turned off, his materials were scattered over his multiple desks, many syringes laid out across the floor--most still had chemicals in them. Watching your step, you made your way to his main workplace, the mess being no different from the rest of the lab. Unlabeled papers of research and crumpled up papers laid sprawled out on his desk. The entire scene was extremely unusual of him--he was always so in order, so organized, sometimes he'd have panic attacks when things were out of order! And yet.. it looks like Dr. Flug made this mess of his lab himself. Sure, you hadn't been to his laboratory in a while, but how much could he have done to his space in that time? Saying the situation was confusing would be an understatement.
But out of everything in the room, one thing stood out to you the most. His closet--normally nice and organized.. it was now dirty, rustic, and one of the latches on the door was now broken. The atmosphere around it was.. intimidating, to say the least. The inside was extremely dark, with some of the darkness spilling out into the already dim laboratory. Hesitantly, you approached it, opening the unbroken door.
It looked somewhat like you suspected--heaps of clothes on the floor of the closet, instead of neatly hung up. Things were looking normal.. except for the blood on some of the clothes. Your mouth silently gaped open as to not draw much attention as you crouched down to inspect the clothes. Horrified, you found many more pieces of clothing with blood. Actually the whole pile. And it wasn't looking like it was his blood--no, it wasn't seeped into the clothes from the inside. It was splattered on, it was somebody else's.
You took a few shaky steps back. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Flug wouldn't.. kill people, right? Part of you was open to the idea--he was a villain, after all. But he never went out of his way to kill..
You looked down at your now bloody palms. He wouldn't kill anyone in this fashion, either. ..Would he? Was he really that.. gruesome of a person? And you had no idea..?
While caught up and reeling in your own thoughts, you lacked the attention to notice Dr. Flug approaching you.
The last thing you remembered was blacking out.
Dr. Flug never intended for you to find out about any of this. The mess of his mental state, the mess of his lab, and the mess he's been making of.. other people. Maybe he could develop a mind erasing serum? Or.. would that be too easy? Perhaps he could just manipulate you into believing it was all a dream.. Either way, he was glad that chloroform-laced cloth came in handy after all.
So, as far as he knew, you would definitely not be supportive of what he was doing. He was doing all this for a misunderstanding in his eyes. You're always full of surprises, though. That's what he loves about you.
When he found out that you were totally okay with his obsessive tendencies, perhaps even supportive, Flug was completely over the moon. If it was possible to fall even deeper in love than he already was, he definitely did at that moment.
Knowing this, he doesn't keep you to himself. Now that he knows how much you love him in return, he has no reason to not trust you! Things can finally start going back to normal.. if uh.. homocide and killing sprees count as "normal" to you.
He's either smothering you with attention or as shy as a mouse. There's two sides of Dr. Flug that clash with each other when it comes to you. He wants to be forward with you--confident, mainly. But when he does, he backs out, becoming immediately flustered. Honestly, when the idea of you enjoying the idea of him killing for you settled into him.. he almost passed out. You really did make him the happiest scientist in the world.
The fact that you supported his actions just made him all the more confident about himself. Sometimes a bit upstuck. You thought what he was doing was righr, why shouldn't he? Whenever he killed someone, he no longer felt remorse. Instead, he felt excited to tell you what he did when he got home. And every time, you would give him the same praise and reassurance. Believe me, Flug is a sucker for praise.
Dr. Flug likes to brag to you about the horrible, awful things he's done. Sure, he loves praise, but actually recieving it makes him extremely flustered. Any "Good job" or "I'm proud of you" made him crumble on the inside. You were gonna be the death of him one of these days.
The two of you prefer to keep your relationship a secret for now and the forseeable future. After all, if Dr. Flug had got himself caught when murdering for you, you would be in trouble for just being associated with him. He wouldn't want that! Not in a million years. But of course, he would never let that happen.
Turns out, this seemed to be the best ending. I mean, who knows what would've happened if you denied him your love? Well, Flug would probably just develop a love potion of sorts. Either way, he's absolutely ecstatic things turned out this way. Despite the obviously very unhealthy relationship, the two of you were happy.. and that's all that mattered.
..Right?
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juneyjubilation · 3 months
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First of all, hello!! I hope you have/ had a great day, I wanted to make a request about Dick Grayson, we all know he's just a ball of sunshine but what about we (As another vigilante who's close to him+ he has a crush on -you can keep the details short or as long as you want-) finding him at his lowest? But like... Really really lowest... In the point where he feels like a disappointment to his parents to bruce himself, to Alfred or basically to everyone who knows him, the point where he thinks he's letting everyone down... The point where he's about to cry and have a panic attack (inside out 2..) and we find him, (let's just say that reader knows him well enough to be able to say somethings are off with him..) try and do everything we can to comfort and console him because... My man really deserves true affection and reminder that he has amazing affect on people around him... (The trigger to his break down could be him, not being able to save a child as he tried to save 5 other people in danger etc. whatever you want, I hope I'm not making any mistakes on writing because English is not my native language and I'd literally sit down and cry if I didn't express myself successfully ;( also could you please make it AFAB?) Thank you so much for everything in advance..
Feel free to ingore this request, but if you won't do it please inform me I won't be hurt 🙏🏻💝
hi! thank you so much for the request :) i absolutely did not mind writing this, though i fear i did mistakenly add more trauma to the golden boy - so ummmm... my bad!
and your english was good at conveying your point! i hope i was able to translate this to paper well :)
also i listened to Birds of a Feather on repeat whilst writing this! enjoy!
details: no use of y/n/(reader), dick calls the reader 'Angel', she/her user, this could be seen as platonic, but he is evidently pining in his thoughts.
content warnings: mentions and brief description of child death, flashbacks to parental death, minor character death (of the unnamed child), panic attacks.
- thank you for reading!! continue to under cut to read -
The haunting memory of the child he had failed, the one he couldn't save, grips him in a vice-like chokehold. It's a branding iron seared into his very soul, a constant reminder of his inadequacy—a festering, gnawing wound that threatens to consume him whole. He clutches his throbbing temple, his mind replaying the horrifying moments when the child, caught in the crossfire, fell to their inevitable fate.
For a single moment the image of that little girl in her yellow sweater returned him to the memory he ran from most; the image of his parents and their once striking yellow and green costumes danced in red.
Contorted bones and brain matter tended to have that effect on him.
Each labored, panicked breath he exhales is a testament to the tumultuous turmoil within him. Sweat trickles down his temples, mingling with the darkness of his hair as tears threaten to spill down his cheeks, unchecked by the demons gnawing at his soul.
His body trembles, the sudden vulnerability an unfamiliar and unwelcome companion. His once steady hands now shake as he struggles to compose himself, to regain control of the emotional maelstrom that threatens to consume him.
The cool Gotham breeze offers no solace, the whispering wind carrying the echoes of the child's cries and the deafening silence that followed.
In a tortured whisper, Nightwing tries coaxing calm into his body. "Breathe... in... hold... out..." His words echo faintly in the wind, a desperate attempt to wrestle back control.
Each labored breath becomes a tiny beacon of light, guiding him through the storm of self-doubt and guilt. He imagines the air filling his lungs like a warm, golden light, chasing away the shadows of despair.
One hand reaches up, fingers brushing against the emblem that adorns his chest, a symbol of his past and his future, a reminder of the strength he has wielded time and time again.
The other hand forms a fist, his knuckles turning white, as he clings to the memory of the five children he saved, the lives he changed. His heartbeat slows, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, as the grounding exercise takes root.
The tenuous grip on his grounding fades like a fading signal, replaced by the raw, unadulterated pain of his failure. He collapses in on himself, sobbing, rage and despair mingling in his anguished cries.
In his mind's eye, the image of the little girl materializes once more, a beacon of hope snuffed out, the same way his own youth was extinguished. The memory of his mother, her laughter and love, dance just beyond his reach. The parallels between the two haunt him, a relentless tormentor.
Tears stream down his cheeks, the salty droplets stinging the wounds of his soul. His shoulders quake under the weight of the burden he bears, the crushing guilt of that lost life threatening to drown him.
In the midst of Nightwing's torment, a shadow falls over him, a gentle presence signaling the arrival of a familiar figure. A figure he has deemed his *Angel*.
She lands gracefully beside him, a figure shrouded in mystery. Yet, for him, she embodies strength, solace, and warmth. Her aura fills the space around him, tickles at his senses in a way that's instantly recognizable, even in the darkness of Gotham's smog.
A gentle hand brushes through his hair, her touch a caress, tender and caring. "There you are," her voice a soothing balm to his raw emotions. He feels her presence, the mere nearness offering a sliver of comfort to his broken spirit.
In the shadows, his solace crouches beside her friend, sensing the turmoil that wracks his body.
Nightwing's initial instinct kicks in, a mixture of surprise and panic as he realizes he's been discovered in his most vulnerable state. The superheroic facade he presents to the world is shattered, exposing the raw, bleeding core of his humanity.
The very thought of burdening her with his failures and shortcomings weighs heavily on him. He's always been the one to save, to lead, to console. The thought of being the one needing rescue is an eerie and unsettling prospect.
Nightwing opens his mouth to protest, to push her away, to defend his honor, but the words stick in his throat. He can't bear to witness the disappointment in her eyes, or the pity that would surely follow.
Instead, he utters the word that's reserved for her alone. "Angel..." The plea is a confession without words, an admission of the depth of his trust in her.
Instead of pulling away, she scoots closer, wrapping her arms around him, a shield against the unyielding darkness that threatens to swallow him whole. Her presence is a beacon of hope, offering a safe haven in the storm that refused to wane.
Angel shakes her head gently, her eyes filled with an understanding that transcends words. Her lips move in a soft, almost imperceptible whisper, weaving a tapestry of comfort through her words.
"Grief, it's a beast, twisting in your gut, aching in places you never thought possible. It's a reminder of the things you can't change, the memories that haunt, the life that slips through the cracks."
Her voice is a lullaby, a rhythmic pattern that guides him through the tempest of emotions. She speaks with the ruggedness of a street-hardened hero and the tenderness of a loving friend.
"But we don't drown in it. We don't let it define us. We let the tears fall, the chest heave, and then we find the strength buried beneath the pain to carry on."
Nightwing listens to her soft words, the wisdom in her voice like a balm to his raw emotions. His thoughts drift back to the time they first met, the war-torn streets of Gotham, a city on the brink of ruin.
He remembers the first time he saw her, the way she moved through the chaos with an almost ethereal grace. She was a beacon of hope in the midst of despair, her emerald eyes sparkling like jewels, piercing the darkness.
In that moment, he knew he would follow her, that she would be his shining star. And so, he called her Angel—not because she resembled the celestial beings but because she represented the light that guided him through life's shadows.
He would never share this with her, this intimate connection that bound them together, a secret that only he held tight to his chest. For in this moment, he realized that Angel's words weren't a fix-all, a panacea to mend all his wounds. They didn't erase the knot in his throat, the heaviness in his heart. But they did something equally profound; they eased the suffocating weight of isolation.
For the first time, he realized he didn't have to face this alone. That he had been surrounded by a network of support, of friends and allies who shared his purpose.
In her arms, he felt anchored, tethered to reality, to the world he fought so tirelessly to protect. A world that was no longer a shadowy, menacing abyss but a place of hope, of potential, of redemption.
And as his sobs subside, leaving behind a silent contemplation, he knows that there will be other battles, other moments of weakness, but he wouldn't face them alone.
In the company of Angel, the moniker 'Nightwing' did not feel like a suffocating mantle that weighed heavily upon Dick's shoulders. Instead, it became a symbol of the partnership they shared, a badge of honor that spoke volumes about their bond.
Angel, with her unwavering support, reminded Dick of the reasons he chose this path in the first place—a desire to protect, to heal, and to stand for justice. Her faith in him, her belief in his abilities, and her unwavering trust in their combined might, breathed new life into the persona he had donned.
Nightwing, the man and the symbol, no longer felt like a burden, but rather the manifestation of his resolve, a testament to his strength, and a beautifully complex reflection of his vulnerabilities. In the presence of Angel, he could be both a hero Gotham needed and the person he needed to be in order to heal from his past.
In the silence that follows, Dick finds himself looking into the eyes of the woman who had become an indispensable part of his life. A man of few words when it came to expressing his gratitude, he finds solace in the simplest of gestures.
He wraps his arm around her, pulling her close, his strong frame enveloping her as he basks in the comfort of her presence. His jaw clenches, the tension a testament to the weight of his emotions. Eventually, he finds the courage to express his gratitude.
"Thank you, Angel." The words are a whisper, sincere and heartfelt. He holds her tighter, as if to etch this moment in his memory, a beacon of warmth in the cold, unforgiving city that they call home.
In that moment, he doesn't need grand speeches or declarations of love, but the simple act of being in her presence. Their bond, forged in the fires of conflict and the camaraderie of friendship, is a testament to the depth of their connection.
He knew he could depend on her, in the darkest hours and brightest victories. She was the calm in the eye of his storm, the beacon of hope that flickered in the shadows.
Together, they stood as guardians of the city, protectors of the innocent, and confidants to one another. Dick Grayson, the young circus performer, and the vigilante known as Nightwing, had found in Angel a companion for life, a partner in crimefighting, and a friend he cherished more than gold.
As they sat on the rooftop, the weight of the world momentarily lifted, Dick knew that he owed her more than he could ever repay. But the debt, he realized, was one he would gladly continue to work off, through every mission, every battle, and every victorious smile they shared. Because in her, he had found not just a comrade but a partner of the heart. And his gratitude, as always, was simple and true: Thank you, Angel.
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theoneandonlyneonleon · 4 months
Text
Honey, Honey
Mmmmwah ty @fizzywashere87 for the prompt <333
Fem!Reader x Donnie
I might make a Masc!Reader version at some point
Prompt: Donnie and Reader are slow dancing at a wedding, and they have a deep talk (reader is emotionally constipated btb)
Fluff, minor angst?, happy ending (im terrible at tagging)
Anywhizzle enjoy <333 (+please reblog!)
@nuncscioquidsitamor-14 bc pookie wanted to be tagged <33
Word count: 1,409
The wedding was beautiful. No doubt about it. Mikey did a wonderful job with the floral arrangements, and April and Cass looked absolutely wonderful. And even more, your date. Hot damn.
Donnie didn't really wear clothes all that often, so you had no idea what you were missing out on. But seeing Donnie, all dressed up like that? You nearly lost your damn mind. The black slacks on his long legs, the white button down that he couldn't button all the way, the jacket, all of it.
"Y/N!" You hear a voice call out, and you recognize it as the bride herself, April. "Y/N c'mere!"
You walk over to April and give her a hug.
"April! You look fabulous!" You exclaim, looking at her positively gorgeous dress. "Why thank you~" she says, doing a spin to show it off. "You look great too!" April compliments, and you strike a little pose.
"More importantly," April starts, "Donnie."
You raise an eyebrow at her.
"What about him?" You ask, curious as to what she means.
"I'm talkin about how you're practically drooling every time you look at him" she places her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at you.
"I cant help it!" You say. "He just looks so goodddd."
"And how long have you been dating for now?" She asks, crossing her arms.
"Uhmmm.... Justttt one or two orrrrrrr eightttttt months?"
"Have you said the 'I love you' yet?"
"Mmmmmmmnnnnooooo?" You say, or rather- ask. Aprils eyes widen and her jaw drops a little.
"Eight months and you haven't said 'I love you'?? Girl-" She starts, ready to lay into you.
"I know I know- I'm emotionally constipated, okay? I'll tell him when I'm ready." She narrows her eyes at you before promptly walking away.
You suddenly hear her in the speakers, announcing something.
"Alright party people! Lets get all those couples out on the dance floor for a slowwww dance" You look at her to find her holding up two thumbs ups pointed in your direction.
Your attention is pulled from April as you hear the familiar sound of your boyfriends voice behind you.
"May I have this dance, darling?" He asks, holding out a hand. You take it and he leads you to the dance floor as some cheesy love song plays.
He places a hand on your waist, you place yours on his shoulder, and you both intertwine fingers best you can. You sway to the beat, not really knowing how to dance.
"You look gorgeous tonight." Donnie says, causing you to blush and look away. You werent the best with taking compliments.
"Look at me, would you?" He requests, squeezing your waist ever so slightly. You still dont, your gaze resting on your hand perched on his shoulder rather than his eyes.
"Is everything alright, darling?" He asks, raising a drawn on eyebrow at you. You shrug, and he momentarily lets go of your waist to gently move your chin so you look at him. You meet his eyes and blush. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smile as he cocks his head slightly.
"You okay?" He asks again, waiting for verbal confirmation.
"Yeah.... I'm fine, I just-" you start, averting your gaze once again. He looks at you, waiting for you to finish. Gosh, he was so patient with you. The way he looks at you, everything thing about him, just him. You loved him so much. Now if only you could tell him that.
"I dunno..." Is what you settle on. "Its just a lot, yknow?"
"Are you overstimulated? Too noisy? Too bright? What is it, hon?" He asks, so patient and caring.
"No... Not that." You think carefully for a moment, searching for the right words. "I've been thinking."
"About?" Donatello questions and he spins you gracefully. 'What a talented dancer' you think.
"Us."
Don raises a brow, looking slightly worried for a second. "This isn't you trying to break up with me, is it?"
"Dont worry, its not." You reassure him.
"Relieved sigh. Thats good. I love you so much I don't know what I'd do if you left me." He chuckles, and you almost stop in your tracks, but don't to continue the flow of dancing, causing you to trip over your own feet. Luckily, Donnie holds you up.
"You okay?" He asks, and you half nod, mind occupied by something else. Those three words. The words you had not yet worked up the nerve to say.
He takes note of the expression on your face, and as if he was a mind reader, he says something.
"I imagine this is because I said the 'L' word?"
You glance at April and Cass, then back to him. "Lesbian?"
"No- Love, Y/N. I said I love you." He states, thumb rubbing gently against your waist.
"Right...."
"Yknow typically when someone says 'I love you', you typically say it back." He smirks that adorable smirk you love so much.
"Your hesitation issss...... Quite unnerving, Y/N. Do you not love me back?" You see the worry on his face and quickly deny it.
"What? Nonono- of course I do, Donnie, I just- I don't know how to say it." He looks at you quizzically as you try to explain.
"Its easy. Like this: I love you too, Donatello, love of my life. Simple"
You sigh. "Its not just that easy. I've never been in a relationship this long. Ive never said....... That.... To someone else before."
Donnie, being as sweet as ever, just listens.
"And its not like I dont love you, I definitely do. I guess I'm just scared that- once I say it, this- us, will become real."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Like once I say.... It..... Im admitting to myself that I'm in love with you, and that's only going to make it hurt that much more when this ends."
When you're finished speaking, you look away, trying to swallow the lump building so annoyingly in your throat. His hand releases yours and cups your cheek, brushing his thumb against your skin.
"What makes you think this is gonna end?" He asks, forcing you to look at him. "I dunno..... I just know that one day you'll find someone so much better than me, and you'll leave me behind. They always do."
The look that flashes across Donatellos face is a mixture of melancholy and love.
"Darling..... There is no one in this world I would rather be with. You're not perfect, sure. But neither am i. And I can promise you, that I will not be leaving you any time soon. Y/N I love you, more than anything or anyone, okay? And by Galileo that will never change. Understand? So, take your worries about me finding someome better and throw them out, because I don't want anyone else. I want you."
By the time he finishes you're nearly on the verge of tears. He pulls you closer into an embrace and you resist the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck.
"God..... You're perfect...." You say quietly. He responds with "I know, dearest."
"I love you, Donatello, love of my life." You tell him, backing up from the embrace to look into his eyes. He smiles that beautiful smile at you.
He says "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything." before he captures your lips in the sweetest, softest kiss you've ever experienced.
The song ends and Mikey comes on the mic.
"Alllllright party people! Time to pump it up!"
The next song starts and you turn to Don once you recognize the opening. He looks at you the same, a grin spreading across his face.
He grabs both you hands and dances with you, singing along to the ABBA song playing over the sound system.
"Honey, honey how you feel me, uh huh. Honey, honey nearly killed me, uh huh. Honey, honey."
You look around, seeing Leo dancing with his boyfriend, April and Cass dancing together, Raph dancing a little on the side, Mikey dancing with himself by the laptop controlling the music, and Donnie. The love of your life, dancing with you, swaying to the music and spinning you around.
In that moment, you knew just how lucky you were. To be a part of a family like this, to have someone like Donatello. There was no where else you'd rather be.
------------------------------------------
Since this is named after one of my fave ABBA songs I wanted to include my headcanons for the boys' fave ABBA songs
Raph: SOS
Leo: Dancing Queen
Donnie: Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (Man After Midnight)
Mikey: Lay All Your Love On Me
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Ty for reading! And please please please reblog, my writing won't get shown to people without it. (Reblogging is the very core pillar of Tumblr!)
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