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#a lil bit of angst lol
star-writez · 6 months
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Don’t ever leave me (kinger x gn reader)
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Kinger is a chess piece who is a total scaredy cat
But he is your scaredy cat
You have been with kinger for awhile
He is basically by your side most of the time and you are his only sort of comfort he didn't trust anybody but you
Who wouldn't feel bad for the poor goober?
You were on your bed staring up at the ceiling trying to relax a little there wasn't much to do when caine didn't send you and the others on missions
You could hear the clock in your room ticking loudly but you tried to ignore it but you just couldn't
Then you heard a creaking sound like somebody was at your door
Then you looked over to see kinger standing there at your doorway looking a little scared
"Hey.....what's wrong?..." you asked sitting up in your bed as you looked over at kinger seeming a little concerned "well uh...I missed you......" kinger explained still standing there at your doorway his blue eyes piercing right into your soul "you could have just said that! Come on in!" You said smiling softly at him as the chess piece slowly entered your room seeming quite cautious but he was like that "you want some cuddles sweetie?" You asked opening up your arms waiting for him to climb into the bed with you "sure!" Kinger said seeming a little happy that you asked that like he was waiting for you to ask the question
He slowly got in bed nuzzling up next to you then you wrapped your arms around him
"Can you promise me something y/n?" Kinger asked seeming very serious about what he was about to ask of you "what is it sweetie?" You asked looking him straight in his blue eyes "c-can you promise me not to abstract like queener did?" Kinger asked tears as he started to tear up he didn't talk about queener that much but when he did it was very hard for him "I-I can't lose you also..." kinger sighed he was over queener but he was also scared that you would meet the same fate she did "oh sweetie...." you said starting to wipe away his tears "I promise you I'm here to stay and I won't every abstract as long as your here" you explained as you gave him a big reassuring smile "pinky promise?" Kinger asked holding out one of his hands holding up his pinky finger "pinky promise..." you repeated as you wrapped your pinky around his
Then he grabbed your hand starting to gently hold your hand
"I-I love you so much y/n I never want anything to ever happen to you..." kinger explained as he nuzzled up against you again closing his eyes
"I love you more sweetie...."
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ruthless hero who destroys everyone verbally, doesnt take shit + chatty villain who just grins and loves banter(if its not too much) have a great day!
The hero swallowed.
Although the gun was shaking in their hand, they took in a deep breath and steadied their mind. No time for second thoughts.
This was it. They’d been searching for the villain for weeks now. They’d finally found them and they were not going to let them escape again.
“Oh?” the villain asked. They eyed the hero carefully, as if the hero was the object of their attention instead of the gun. They were sitting on the couch in their lair with all the casualness in the world. “Aren’t you a little too confident for your own good, darling?”
“Aren’t you?”
The villain cocked their head and the grin followed as so often. They stood up slowly and raised their hands but despite their actions of surrender, they were clearly mocking the hero.
“Mhmm. That’s how it is, I see. How spunky you can be…”
Determined, the hero took their handcuffs and threw them into the villain’s direction. Even though the villain seemed to be more confused than intrigued, they caught and inspected them.
“Cuff yourself,” the hero said.
“Gosh, you can be so kinky.”
“And you’ll be bleeding out in a few seconds if you don’t do as I say.” Their grip around the gun tightened. It didn’t matter that the villain had saved them so many times. It didn’t matter that they were occasionally nice.
It didn’t matter because the hero had a job to do.
They had to arrest them.
The villain rolled their eyes.
“All bark, no bite.”
“Would you like to find out? I recall breaking your arm pretty easily,” the hero said. They were aiming at the villain’s shoulder and slowly, very slowly, their anxiousness faded. It was a job like every other.
A villain, just like all the others.
Shooting at them in this moment seemed irrational. They weren’t a threat nor were they extraordinarily provoking them. Of course the hero knew it would be difficult to explain to the team how the villain had surrendered without much of a struggle.
They had to find a solution to that later.
“Mistakes happen in the heat of the moment. I understand you were distracted by my muscles flexing during the fight.” The villain was in a good mood, as so often. But the hero could also sense some sort of uncertainty.
It was in the movement of their fingers that traced the handcuffs. In their restless eyes that went over the hero again and again. If they wanted to admit it or not, the hero had surprised them.
And that was something the villain absolutely despised. Surprises. Not being in control. Not knowing what happens next.
“I can assure you it was intentional. Your muscles aren’t that special.”
“Ouch.” The villain contorted their face as if they were truly hurt. The mockery should’ve made it easier. But it didn’t.
The hero turned off the gun’s safety.
“Handcuffs. Now.”
“Fine.” The villain cuffed themselves, one wrist after the other. Once they were finished, they stretched their arms out and presented themselves. “Am I not the sweetest present?”
“The most annoying, definitely. Sit down.” The villain did as the hero commanded and leaned back, pushing their hips forward. Lounging like that was definitely not what the hero wanted them to do.
They’d been chasing the villain for weeks and they were determined to put them behind bars. Whatever had happened in the past, it was gone now. The hero had let go of it and could only pray the villain had done that too.
“We’ll wait here until my team arrives.”
“I suppose that’s enough time for me to escape. You know you love our little hide-and-seek game.” Their smile was genuine and sweet. The hero didn’t know what to make of that.
“No, this is it. It’s over. I can’t let you go.”
“But you will. You’re still so soft for me.”
“You’re really not as important to me as you think.” Then why are you hesitating?
“You’re not as cold as you think,” the villain said. “Not when it comes to me.”
They jiggled with the handcuffs. The hero could hear their own pulse.
“Just tell your team it was a good fight and I escaped, hm? Just like last time,” the villain suggested. Sweat was running down the hero’s back. Their fingers were ice cold.
“I cannot do that.”
“You’ve done it before, darling,” the villain said. “As long as I can walk, I can still escape. You know I’m skilled enough to do that.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“I enjoy my time with you,” the villain said. They looked at the ground. “…and I still have feelings for you.”
The hero felt sick in their stomach.
“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Suddenly, the hero lowered their gun and pulled the trigger. They couldn’t let them escape again. They couldn’t put their own feelings before their responsibilities. As soon as they pulled the trigger, they regretted it.
Their heavy heart sank fast.
They hoped one day they could forget the villain’s reaction when the bullet entered their knee. That stare of utter fear and betrayal. That scream and those tears of pain.
But that would haunt them forever.
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lemonandlime22 · 1 year
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Yandere sibling!Dorm Leaders
Pt 1 Riddle Rosehearts (older sibling!reader)
Warning(s): cussing, yandere shit, unhealthy behavior, this shits only good for fiction irl this is no fuckin good obv
Word Count: 1k
A/N: I've been reading a lot of yandere stuff lately and I've been wanting to try it out too. Any constructive criticism would be very much appreciated, cause this is my first my writing any yandere type stuff. Also, tysm to @lorkai for the inspo help.
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Riddle Rosehearts
When the two of you were young, you were always the one to comfort him after any unwarranted punishments, and were often blamed for his mistakes by your mother. You'd be lying if you said that you were never bitter or jealous about this miss treatment, but you pushed it down in favor of the relief that your baby brother didn't have to be put through what you did.
You found out about Trey and Chenya long before you mother did. Riddle cried and begged you not to tell your mother, to which you assured him that you would keep his secret no matter what. At the time, you believed this was a sign that he wouldn't turn out like your mother and in your excitement and relief you shared all of the secrets you had hid for years even giving him some pointers on where to hide things and convincing lies to tell. You thought these would have been an amazing bounding moments for the both of you to cherish.
But then Riddle was caught... You tried to convince your mother that it was your idea, you introduced the boys, you helped hide it for do long (which was only partly un true) but it only worked to give you a worse punishment then him.
After this incident, he started to turn into a miniature version of your mother, with the love of absorbed rules and anger issues. This of course drove quite the wedge in your relationship. As you got older your formulated somewhat of a plan, you would focus on your studies as much as possible, then try and get into a prestigious boarding school, and while there save as much money as you can so once you graduated you don't have to go back and can start a life far away from your mother and her control.
Now, Riddle had always admired you for your intelligence and bravery to stand up to your mother, whether for him or yourself, and he wanted to protect you just as you had always protected him. As Riddle grew older that strong admiration for you and want to protect you, and mixed with his belief of rules being of utmost importance, it grew into something nasty as time went on.
Riddle had heard you mention your plan when he walked past your room while you were on the phone with a friend. Once he knew you were up to something he was determined to find out what it was. After a few days of eavesdropping on your conversations, he was able to put together enough pieces of information to understand what you were doing. To say he was distraught would be an understatement, but he quickly composed himself in favor of making a plan to keep you here. With him. Your precious baby brother.
He played the waiting game for his plan to work perfectly, he waited right unit just weeks before your scheduled leave for school. That evening he knocked on his mother's study door,
"Who is it?" His mother asked through the door, in her ever-cold and rigged tone.
"It is Riddle, Mother. I have some things I must inform you of." Riddle replied, his heart racing in his chest as he awaited her response. Deep down he knew exactly that what he was about to do was horridly wrong, but he had assured himself multiple times that it was for your own good. But what made his heart pound so hard in panic was the thought that you would hate him for this. That you would refuse to speak to him, look at him, or even be near him. The mere thought made him feel like he was going to fall to his knees in tears right then and there. He couldn't live without the love and care that you had always given-
"Alright, come in." After what felt like an eternity, his mother responded, stopping him from spiraling deeper into his thoughts. He took a deep breath, pushing away his worries down as he opened the door.
'They'll understand, this is for their own good...'
Riddle's heart squeezed in pain and sympathy as he stood next to his mother while she yelled at you. But he couldn't help but feel just a twinge of satisfaction at the thought of the betrayal you must feel, that your own brother told every one of your secrets that you told him all those years ago and just maybe a little more for good measure. He wanted you to know the pain he felt when he found out you were going to leave him.
From then on, you weren't allowed to damn near anything, at least not alone, and that included school. She didn't allow you to go to any boarding school and she personally oversaw the rest of your schooling. You weren't even allowed to leave the house alone, which was something that took years of goodwill and trust to earn from your mother.
After that, you were far more distant from your brother, which eventually turned into coldness. Anytime he entered a room, you would leave it, if he tried to talk to you, you would either walk away or glare at him. All of Riddle's fears had come true, you hate him. He couldn't help but sob to himself in his room after you had glared at him for the first time. After almost an hour of sobbing into his pillow, he managed to calm himself down with a technique you taught him years ago, how ironic., he tried to think of this logically, you were a teenager, teenagers are notorious for overreacting because of hormones, yeah.. that must be it... you would get over this soon... he's sure of it...
Riddle would later learn to understand you more, after a certain redheaded freshman challenges him for Houseworden. He would understand why you did the things you did, and how big of a mistake he had made. He'd do anything to make up for it and keep you by his side...
Anything...
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cummin-n-cryin · 2 years
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Hello! Can I request Leona, Trey and Kalim walking in on a male mc having a straight-up panic attack because he realized that he’s slowly starting to forget things about his family and friends from back home since he’s been away from them for so long and is terrified that he’ll fully forget them someday?
~Thank you for your request!
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To Forget...
Leona Kingscholar + Trey Clover + Kalim Al-Asim x male!reader (all separate!)
Tw: Panic attack, angst with comfort, it's a lot more comfort than angst lol
Wordcount: 385 + 416 + 569
Side Note: This turned out a lot more gender neutral than intended. I hope this was still ok!
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~Leona Kingscholar~
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It was getting late at NRC. Everyone had returned to their respective dorms, going to bed and settling down for the night.
Leona was tired from all the annoying students and teachers that kept disturbing him from his naps. He just wanted to go to his bed, flop down, and fall into a deep sleep. He walked through the Savanahclaw dorm. Step by step he got closer to the door to his room and his bed.
Finally, standing in front of the door he reached for the handle, then he stopped. Leona's ears flicked as he listened carefully. He could hear something inside his room. Shuffling noises like that of fabric and what sounds to be… crying?
He immediately opened the door, stepping inside he looked around. He saw what looked to be a person sitting on his bed hiding their face with their hands. Wait, he recognized that person… It was Y/n. What were you doing in his room and why were you crying? With a sigh, he approached you sitting next to you on the bed.
"Oi.. Herbivore what are ya' doing crying in my room?"
You sniffled and rubbed at your tear stained face. After a few moments, you mumbled through your hands telling him how you recently noticed that you've been forgetting your family and friends. You've been forgetting precious memories that were once held so dear and close to your heart. You sometimes find yourself struggling to remember something as basic as their names!
Leona listened as you continued on, telling him how you are so afraid that someday you'll completely forget them. He could understand why you would be so upset about something like that. He couldn't fully empathize but he could understand. Forgetting something so important as friends or family would absolutely devastate most people.
He honestly wasn't really sure how he could help you. But what he did know was that he was tired and after all that crying you must be tired too, yeah?
So, Leona grabbed you and laid you down on his bed. He pulled up the covers tucking you both in. Settling down, you both laid there quietly. Soon enough you both were slowly drifting off to sleep.
You'll both deal with it all tomorrow for now, you have each other.
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~Trey Clover~
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Trey was currently busy in the Heartslabyul kitchen.
Riddle had planned for an Unbirthday party to be held later that day and Trey, being pretty much the only person who knows how to cook in Heartslabyul, was going to be the one to make all the cakes and other sweet treats for the event.
So, Trey needed to make sure he had all the ingredients he was going to need. After a bit, he sighed to himself. Thankfully, it seems they had everything he needed. He then decided to head to his dorm room to relax for a bit before he had to start cooking for the party.
He walked down the echoing halls to his room and entered. But surprisingly, he was not the only one who decided to go to his dorm room.
There you were, laying on his bed and you seemed to be crying.. Trey approached you calmly. You were slightly shaking and your face was stained with tears.
He gently placed his hand on your shoulder, "Y/n… If something or someone is bothering you, you can tell me. You don't have to if you don't want to of course, but I'll be here if you need anything."
He spoke softly, not wanting to stress you out more than you probably already were. You sniffled and after a few quiet moments you spoke. You told him that you had recently noticed that you've been forgetting your friends and family. You told him how much it hurt you to know that you were slowly forgetting all those memories and connections that you once had with them.
Trey empathized with you. Forgetting something so important as friends and family must have been horrible. He wasn't quite sure how he could help you at the moment. He'd have to brainstorm some ideas to try to help you keep your memories.
However, for now he'll settle on just trying to comfort you. Trey grabbed some tissues for you so that you could clean your face up a bit.
He then came up with an idea. Why don't you come help him with baking those cakes for the upcoming Unbirthday party?
After a few moments, you had agreed and he helped you get up from his bed. You both then made your way to the Heartslabyul kitchen. While Trey couldn't exactly help you with getting back your memories, he could at least provide you a distraction from the pain while he tries to come up with some ideas to help you.
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~Kalim Al-Asim~
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Kalim was looking around for you with the help of Jamil. He needed you to offer some ideas for dishes he could serve for the day's banquet.
He looked all over for you! Were you in this bush? Nope! Were you in this tree? Nope!
Finally, Jamil having had enough of being dragged around everywhere, told Kalim that perhaps you were in your dorm room. Kalim felt a bit dumb having not thought of that.
He quickly thanked Jamil before running off to your dorm room, leaving Jamil to stand there debating whether to follow Kalim or not.
Kalim ran as quick as he could. When he found the door to your room he was out of breath, he took some deep breaths to regain his composure before he excitedly knocked on your door.
"Y/n! It's Kalim, are you in there?!" He tried waiting for you to answer but he was running out of time! So, he decided that he would just open the door, take a peek to see if you were in there, and then leave. No harm done!
As he cracked open the door he expected to see it empty, but to his surprise there you were! You were laying on your bed hiding under the covers. He quickly approached you, but as he got closer he heard… sniffling? Were you crying? Why were you sad? He put his hand on the blanket covering you.
"Y/n.. Hey, what's wrong?" Slowly the blanket was pulled off of you as you sat up breathing quickly with tears going down your face. Kalim gasped! He then hugged you tightly asking you what happened to make you so upset. You made Kalim loosen his grip on you so you could actually breathe, before trying your best to tell him why you were upset.
You told him that recently, you noticed that you've began to forget your friends and family back in your world and you're scared you'll completely forget them someday. Kalim quietly listened to your words. You're forgetting your own family and friends? That sounds horrible! He couldn't imagine how much that must hurt you. But there's gotta be something he can do to help you…
Wait! What if you write down all of your memories and experiences with your family and friends back home? That way if you ever forget you could just go and read it to remember again! He proposed the idea to you, it wasn't a bad idea… and besides you could only do so much until Crowley finds you a way back home..
Kalim hugged you again and for a few moments it was quiet as you calmed down in his arms.
"THE BANQUET!!"
Startled you looked at Kalim as he jumped up from the bed. He then turned to you and told you how he had been looking for you cause he needed your help with some of the dishes that were gonna be served. Maybe helping Kalim out will help provide a nice distraction from your worries?
You rubbed your face a bit as you accepted Kalim's offer. He grabbed your hand and you both tried to quickly make your way back to Scarabia before the banquet was supposed to begin.
Kalim may not always be the best of help, but he can at least provide a good distraction. Especially if it means getting that lovely smile of yours back on your face!
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PRINCE!GOJO X KNIGHT!READER MY BELOVED i just thought about another thing and i need to get it out - i like to think out knights are connected ok. hear me out maybe my knight is just another version of yours - meaning if my knight had met satoru at a young age, they would've turned into your knight DOES THAT MAKE SENSE your knight is a bit more soft (still a warrior though!!!) while mine isn't as soft as they'd like to be and that's just because one grew up in a castle with the prince taking care of them and the other grew up having to fend for themselves they're all just sooooooooooooooo ahhhh i can't i keep thinking about your knight too like they all actually made a cozy little home in my head i love them so much
and i think your lovely "i think i was born to meet you." applies for my little prince and his little knight too:(((((((((((
- @softgirlgonehaywire
MICKEY I KNOW I SAY THIS EVERY DAY BUT WE RLLY ARE CONNECTED i was literally thinking abt this while answering that ask…. the differences between our knights…. AND UR SOSO RIGHT thats literally perfect. its canon to our lore now. 
it makes sm sense too bc the reason why my knight!reader is so devoted to prince!gojo is bc he saved them!! and i think that also leads them to have a kind of hero complex where they want to return the favor, or save others the way he saved them… but to your knight satoru is just a silly little spoiled prince that theyve never met before, so why would they like him??
ok but now im just thinking abt our knights meeting each other…::: ur knight coming face to face w a version of them that isnt as hardened, that was saved and got to live a more peaceful life….. the envy and maybe contempt? or maybe just apathy. idk but i am THINKING
AND AND AND…….. ok but what if our princes met the other version of their knight 😵‍💫😵‍💫 HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUTTT
just…. ur prince!gojo meeting a knight!reader who is soso loyal and smitten w him (he would cry and explode i think)….. and my prince!gojo meeting a knight!reader who lost their smile (WHO HE FAILED TO SAVE oh i think that would just break him)…… my knight being so indulgent and ur satoru taking full advantage of it, ur knight getting hissy when my gojo acts overprotective…… HHHHH IM LOSING IT MICKEY CAN U FEEL IT……..
anyways in my head theyre one big found family who take care of each other <333 love & peace on planet earth etc etc. they were meant to meet each other one way or another!!!
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silverwolf1249 · 1 year
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kryptonians have wings and need them to live au:
Wing au where all kryptonians are born with wings, and can hide or reveal them at will. If they lose their wings, their health deteriorates until they either die from the stress the loss of their wings causes, or they end it themselves.
The Kents are surprised when they find a winged baby in a spaceship crashing in their fields one day, but they love him all the same and name him Clark. They didn't let him out much until he was a bit older and figured out how to hide his wings, it was simply too risky.
As a toddler, Clark's wings were incredibly fluffy and full of down, still growing in. What you could see of his feathers were greyish blues, a rusty tone highlighting the upper parts of his wings. He wasn't able to do much more than flap them about until he turned thirteen, when his adult plumage came in.
That time was absolute hell on all the Kents, his parents not knowing much on how the help the itching and pain Clark dealt with as he molted and his feathers fully grew in. Martha and John poured over multiple books on birds and their wings in hopes that Clark's wings were similar enough for the information to aid them.
Clark had to take an extended leave from school due to an "unfortunate case of pneumonia". It all turned out alright in the end of course, and Martha absolutely cooed at her son's new plumage, vivid dark blue with vibrant red mingling amongst the upper portions of his wings (colors that would later inspire those of his uniform as superman)
Growing up, Clark knew he was different, no one else had wings, and he had been told constantly by his parents to keep his hidden. He learned very early on that it was because he wasn't from earth, but that didn't make his parents consider him their own any less. He later found out about all his other abilities he gained from absorbing the sun's solar energy, but his favorite ability was always the wings he was born with.
Sure, he could fly without them, but why would he? His wings were a part of him from the very beginning, and flying with his wings just felt so much more right than flying without them. When he found the Fortress of Silence, he learned more about his wings from the Jor-el hologram, discovering how important it was to keep them safe. He still decided to keep them out as Superman though, his near invulnerability extending to his wings as well, and he was loathe to fly without them.
Years down the line, and after having been a part of the Justice League for over a year, Superman was suddenly very aware about his wing's vulnerability after another Kryptonite incident with Lex. Superman worried, and ended up confiding in Batman about his concerns. This was Batman after all, he knew all of Kal's other secrets and weaknesses, what was one more? He still didn't know the man's name, but he would trust him with his life, and for now that was enough.
Thankfully, Lex had yet to figure out just how important Clark's wings were to his continued existence, but even if he never learned the truth, any lucky shot to his back could take him out permanently. Batman listened to it all and told him that while he would tell him to put on wing covers to shield them, suddenly having them one day would be incredibly suspicious. There wasn't much they could do other than to make sure Clark's back was always protected.
Of course, this wasn't a long term solution, and it caught up to them not even a few years later. Superman finally got hit with that lucky shot, and Bruce wasn't able to get there in time to shield the other's back. By that point, the core justice league members had learned of Kal's achilles heel, and panicked when they noticed Superman lying on the ground face down, his back torn to shreds and wingless. Batman however, was calm, cold and clinical as he ordered them to bring them to the watchtower infirmary and get a room with two operating tables prepared for surgery.
When Superman, unconscious from the pain, was set up in an operating room, the Justice League looked around, wondering what was next? Only to spy Batman removing the top parts of his armor next to the other operating table. Wondering what the hell was going on, they were absolutely shocked when a pair of wings burst out of Bruce's back, and they were identical to Superman's.
Despite the questions bubbling within them, they soundlessly leave the operating room to let the watchtower's medical team enter and get down to business. Hours after the surgery is over, they visit Bruce to get their answers. He's sitting up in his bed, unable to lie on his back, the two new neatly stitched incisions on his back preventing him from doing so.
Still under the influence of painkillers (not strong enough to cloud his mind of course), he slowly explains. When he learned of Clark's weakness, he did more research into it, using his at the time new connection to the computer in the Fortress of Silence to learn more about Kryptonian biology. He wanted to figure out if there were any ways to prevent Clark's death if he actually lost his wings one day.
Eventually, he did find the solution. On Krypton, wing transfers were rare, but the cases were well documented in the Fortress' database. Whoever sacrificed their wings would die, but so long as the person who had lost their wings received a transplant within 24 hrs, the one who lost their wings would survive with no lasting impact. The wings had to be removed within those 24 hrs as well, or the wings would be rejected, and both participants would die.
And Bruce was the guy with all the contingencies, both for if he would need to take down his allies, and to save them. He sneakily stole a few dna samples from Clark, and did his own research and testing. He eventually managed to replicate Clark's wings, but he knew that unless they were attached to someone, the transplant wouldn't work.
Eventually he made the conclusion that if anyone was to carry the spare pair of wings, it would be him. This was untrodden territory, but thorough testing had shown that Kryptonian dna was compatible with human dna, so at the very least, Bruce wouldn't die if he implanted the wings into himself.
Whether he would die or not if a transplant was required however, was uncertain. While humans didn't need wings to survive, Bruce couldn't be sure how the Kryptonian wings might affect human biology once implanted. Hell, he wasn't even completely sure if the transplant would work. The intermingling of human and Kryptonian dna from the wings could render the wings useless once removed.
There was just no way to tell unless Kal actually needed the transplant, and there was no way Bruce would let that risk fall on anyone else. In the end, it seemed like Bruce's gamble had won, since other than the gashes on his back, there were no other negative effects to his health, and it looked like Kal would make a full recovery as well.
As you can probably imagine, the justice league were not happy with his explanation at all, and neither were his family or Clark when he woke up(Alfred in particular was upset that Bruce had never told anyone what he had done, the batkids were just pissed and terrified for nearly losing their dad and they wouldn't even have known until much later). At the same time however, they understood why Bruce did what he did, self sacrificing idiot that he was. None of them could imagine a Batman without a Superman. Clark though, also couldn't imagine a Superman without a Batman by his side.
They were friends, Clark would even hesitantly call Bruce his best friend, but the incident had changed some things. Clark had always thought that Bruce had reluctantly became friends with him after Clark kept bothering him to be more social when they started the justice league. He knew that Bruce trusted him with his life, he wouldn't have revealed his identity to him otherwise, but the fact that he was willing to die for a chance to save him...Clark had just never saw that happening, until now he supposed.
He just wanted to know why? Why put himself at risk like this when he wasn't even sure he would survive the surgery? When he wasn't even sure if it was possible to transfer the wings to him? So he confronts Bruce one day, practically ambushing the man in the Batcave one night. And Bruce, as emotionally distant and secretive as the man can be, answers honestly, "I care about you." he tells Clark, looking away from the other to hide how vulnerable he felt, "There was no way I was going to let something like this kill you. Not if I had the possibility to prevent it. A chance is greater than none at all."
And suddenly, Clark realizes that he was awfully, terribly, and wholly in love with Bruce. How he had never noticed it before he wasn't sure, but this near death incident had made him reflect on many things, it would of course also make him reflect on his relationship with Bruce as well. And without even thinking about it, he finds himself kissing the other man.
For a second, there's no response, but then Bruce answers in kind. Clark feels his wings, wings that Bruce had risked himself to create and transfer, pop out of his back. They flutter a bit, before wrapping themselves around him and Bruce. And everything feels so, so right, like everything was going to be okay.
It wasn't of course, he and Bruce definitely had to discuss their relationship and how it might affect their current lives, both of them were still recovering from the surgery, and Clark's wings didn't really feel like his just yet, despite looking exactly the same. He was also pretty sure the other Justice League members were going to be ridiculously overprotective over him for a while after being so close to losing him, same with Bruce for being reckless and secretive as always. But for now, he let himself indulge in this one perfect moment.
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illegiblehandwriting1 · 10 months
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YO GUYS. GUYS I DID IT. I had my last final today and it wasn't fun, but at least it's over!!
AND it's Wednesday! so, i've never done this before, BUT! i feel the need to celebrate w/ a small snippet of s&a ch 16, so here ya go :3 idk if this is a lot for a sneak peek, but in terms of this chapter, it is absolutely nothing, so, eh! fuck it, ya know?
----
Hyrule had always loved caves. 
Where other heroes had proper towns and stables and inns, Hyrule had the caverns and cave systems that spiderwebbed beneath the surface of his home in every direction. Overworld monsters liked all the pale sunlight they could get. Dungeon-crawling monsters always preferred to stick to a certain room, and that was their turf; their home. 
An empty cave meant a safe spot, a rest stop, a moment to breathe. He didn't get very many of those. 
So when Hyrule had said he had been exploring that cave under the tree roots, he hadn’t lied. 
Technically. 
He had explored it. He had searched each crack and crevice with a distinct curiosity, wondering why it was here, who had made it, how convenient it would be to get to if he was in terrible shape: all the questions that he usually wondered. With each second spent in the darkness, he felt his heartbeat slow down from its thunderous pace. 
Okay, so contrary to what he told the heroes, his focus on the cave beneath the tree roots was more than just a habit or an interest. 
It was almost like a home. 
And maybe that was a little unhealthy, when he considered any enclosed, underground space to be safer than being surrounded by allies — comrades, friends, brothers — but at least he could breathe, in a cave. At least he could know that when he huddled himself up in the corner of the dark room, the hard rock pressed against his back and told him that nothing else was behind him. There would be no knives in his shoulder blades, no hands pushing him away or pulling him too close. There would be no claws ripping into his flesh and pouring his blood onto the earth. At least he could see the only entryway to the darkened alcove and know with full certainty that if anyone tried to come in, he would see them first. 
And it wasn’t that he didn’t trust any of the other heroes: that was just wrong. He trusted them with his life, and coming from the teenager with the blood curse, that was saying quite a bit. 
But there was a certain tension in the air around the group of travellers that had been there for weeks now. It wasn't exactly a secret as to why — they all knew why. 
Sky was gone. They needed him back. 
And they didn't know how to get him. 
But Hyrule found himself worrying his lip until it bled. He noticed his shoulders rising up to his ears. The tension in his frame. His locked jaw and the sudden snappiness that he kept swallowing. 
So the moment they stopped, he ran and hid in the safest place he could think of. Hiding was what he was best at, after all. 
It was what he had always done to escape. 
But it was quiet, down there in the dark. It was still and silent and maybe even peaceful. He was alone, if only for a moment, and that was what he was used to. Maybe he liked being around other people — well, that was a lie. He craved their presence like a bee craves nectar. It was soothing in a way that nothing else could be, when you had a comrade at your side in battle and a friend next to you at dinnertime. 
But the lonesome cave was familiar, despite the completely foreign territory they had all been treading since they'd first entered the Breach of Demise. 
It was familiar to sit, back pressed against the rough cave rocks, and just breathe. 
He imagined that he was home again. He was alone in his travels. He had no one to look after and no one to look after him. 
He didn’t have a missing brother. 
The bittersweetness of the illusion tasted wrong. It wasn’t something he could just magically go back to. Not after everything. But it was close enough, and that was all he needed. Just for a moment. Just until he had to turn on the lights again. 
Someone called his name. Not his birth name, not the name that everyone in his world connected with a curse and a bloodstained future reminiscent of a bloodstained past. No. That wasn’t what he heard. 
“Hyrule!” someone yelled. 
His allies — friends, brothers, family — were looking for him. 
He’d never had much of a family before. 
He couldn’t let this one fall apart.
---
also, um. so.
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i am. not done yet. so.
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mawenskiblue · 12 days
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👁️ 👁️ what is this “nmg au”? Tell me more?
🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️💦💦💦 hides snippet under the cut (rambles in tags)
... It’s hard to tell what they’re feeling at times. Still, they shook his hand and introduced their name.
N.
A simple, one-lettered nickname. Unlike his, clearly inspired by his appearance; but he’s not complaining. Nightmare gave him a better nickname than what the multiverse did. ...
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noes-pillow · 1 year
Text
✨️Vanoé Angst Week: Day 1✨️ @vanoeangstweek
What’s Left Unsaid
| 1k | read on ao3 | feedback appreciated |
Prompt:
Selfish/Selfless | Forbidden Love | “I couldn’t stop myself.”
Summary:
"If anything, I need to apologize.”
Damn right you do.
"I’m sorry.”
'Sorry’ doesn’t mean you’ll come back to me.
-or-
Noé reads Vanitas' last letter to him after his death.
...
“I couldn’t stop myself from writing to you.”
Noé’s hands quivered holding the pathetic example of a piece of stationary. It was crushed, torn in the middle, and nearly falling apart. The ink was barely decipherable. So much of it smeared with blood.
 “I realize this is more unfair to you than it is to me.”
You got that damn right, that awful human. How dare you. Noé told himself he didn’t want to continue. That was another lie.
 “I see you writing in your notebook all the time. You are so focused on your work. You are so dedicated to your purpose. It’s admirable. Because in a way I can relate.”
So, he was looking at him. Noé wasn’t just imagining the small glances thrown his direction. The little flashes of electric blue. His desk was on the side of the room where Vanitas could see a perfect profile of Noé’s candid face while he worked.
 “I hope you never stop being as dedicated as you are.”
Vanitas never spoke like this.
“I hope you find a new purpose after I’m gone.”
Stop. Where was this even coming from?
 “And I hope you are able to forgive yourself.”
Noé laughed. A fake giggle of disbelief.
 “Because Louis would forgive you.”
Damn you. Louis was dead. And now so was Vanitas. Noé wasn’t trying to make a habit of being forgiven by his dead friends.
So why was he saying these things now?
 “And I already forgive you too. Actually, there is nothing for me to forgive, really. You promised to hold up a deal I never thought you would agree to. If anything, I need to apologize.”
Damn right you do.
 “I’m sorry.”
‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean you’ll come back to me.
 “Noé, I’m so sorry, mon chéri.”
Don’t call me that. Noé would never get to hear him say that name ever again. It was torture for Vanitas to remind him of that fact.
 “I’m sorry about the secrets I had to keep from you and that I could never tell you about my past.
I wanted to.
I wanted to terribly.
But I do also know that you understand, as much as you wish it were different… as much as I wish it were different.”
Noé wished nothing more to be holding his Vanitas rather than the decrepit letter in his hand.
This should’ve been a love letter not a suicide note.
In some ways it was both.
“I’m leaving the book in your care. Destroy it, if you can. The tear stone should have shattered upon my death, but the book must also be forgotten.
Burn it, rip it to shreds, throw it into the void between the barriers, if you must.
The world needs to forget any trace of Luna.
The world needs to forget any memory of me.”
I don’t want to forget.
 “I know you can’t forget me. You always were a sentimental one. I know you wouldn’t even dare try. So that is why I must say this.”
Noé stared at the page. His eyes could burn the page to ash if he scrutinized the message with any more intent. His heart pounded with anticipation, trying to guess what words he would read next.
He tried not to be so hopeful, but that’s hard when you’re reading someone’s last words. Vanitas’ last words.
 “Noé…
My friend, and partner in crime.
Whatever words you are hoping to see me say, you will not find in this letter. Whatever confessions you are hoping I write to you will never exist. Whatever I have left unsaid should remain that way.
There are things I could say, things I might even mean, feelings that might even be true, that which will die with my last breath of sanity.
To be human is to feel. But I’ve never really been human, have I? I was born that way yes, but I don’t have the luxury of that now after all that has happened.
Noé, there are things I cannot say because I mean them.
But they wouldn’t be fair to speak into the world.
Wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Selfish human.
 “And the universe isn’t fair.”
That was one phrase Noé didn’t need to be told to know was the truth.
With a sigh that left his lungs feeling like they should be drowning, Noé finished reading.
He didn’t want to take another breath, but his body forced him. Everything felt heavy. Like his body was made of lead. He couldn’t move for awhile. He just sat at his desk, and turned to the right, looking at Vanitas’ empty bed.
Noé pressed the paper flat to dry and let his mind wander. Eyes unfocused, looking at nothing, but still facing Vanitas’ side of the room. A few memories replayed in his mind. He wished he could lose himself in them. Drown in them if he needed to.
But no.
Some time later, Noé folded up the dry, flattened words of his late partner. One, two, three, four folds in half, into the size of a business card.
That letter found it’s home in the left inside pocket of Noé’s coat, buttoned tight for safekeeping.
He never read those words again. He didn’t need or want to.
Years passed, and from time to time Domi would notice Noé press his right hand to his chest over his heart. She thought it was some routine he absentmindedly did when he was feeling a little more emotional.
What she didn’t know was that there was a little folded piece of paper in his pocket that Noé kept for when he was feeling lonely. Warmed between his hand and his heart for when he needed it to be.
Vanitas’ letter might have said nothing, but its existence meant everything.
Though he only saw the words once, the last line would pop into his mind more often than he was willing to admit.
Vanitas didn’t even have the sense to sign his message. He simply ended with…
 “Noé, I set you free.”
No, Vanitas.
You’ve just left me alone.
fin
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cherrykamado · 1 year
Text
i'm so happy with my selfships. i may focus more on some than others, but anyway i revisit them all. just a mere, silly thought, re-reading something i wrote, coming across something on pinterest that reminds me of a dynamic with 'x' blorbo...
i love that i can get serotonin out of what may seem like a silly little thought, or dedicating time to do something elaborate. it's an act of pure self-love, and i think that investing time in it is so worth it.
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xynchronicity · 1 year
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@discountedmuses said: ❝I have never known closeness like this.❞ - Brann to Reaps (my he a r t)
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It's not abnormal for these two to hide away from the rest of Talon, relaxing together. This time was different for both of them. Reaps was gentler, kinder, and softer with Brann. He remained beside the other, holding him close, claws gently brushing against the other's waist. It was calm and quiet within Reaps' mind and body that upon hearing Brann speak, it shocked him back to reality. His claws momentarily squeezed harder than intended at the words.
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"I am sorry for that." It was all he could provide for the moment. His brain still reeling from the stated words. Were all of Talons members - save for the higher-ups - this...abused? It's fitting. All those lacking something find solace, strength, or whatever within Talon's ranks. At least, those who still have control of their mind. "You shouldn't lack such closeness in your life." Not that he was the best to give said closeness, he's not any better in all honesty. "I wish - hope - better for you." Hope was a fickle thing in his mind...but for Brann, he'll believe in it.
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orcelito · 2 years
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i do love how there’s literally no canon mamakechi appearance. but since goro doesnt look like shido At All we’ve all collectively been like “ok mamakechi is like goro but more sad looking” and like i think we r valid for it
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roosterr · 4 months
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if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333
the 141 falls asleep on you
wc: 2.1k
hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)
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price
✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.
✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.
✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.
✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.
✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.
✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.
✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.
✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.
✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.
✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.
✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.
✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.
✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"
✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.
✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.
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gaz
✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.
✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.
✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"
✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."
✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.
✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."
✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.
✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.
✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.
✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.
✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.
✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.
✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."
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soap
✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.
✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.
✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.
✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.
✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.
✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.
✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.
✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"
✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"
✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.
✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"
✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.
✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.
✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.
✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.
✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.
✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"
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ghost
✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.
✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.
✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.
✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.
✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.
✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.
✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.
✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.
✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.
✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.
✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.
✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.
✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.
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atlabeth · 2 months
Text
geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
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Percy thought that his head might explode. 
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 
“She did.” 
He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 
…Gods. 
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 
-
“Luke—” 
“No!” 
“Luke, please!” 
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 
“She won’t know!” 
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 
“If you say a single word—” 
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 
“Never better.” 
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 
“I’m curious,” he decided. 
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 
“And how it killed the cat?” 
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 
He nodded. “Yeah.” 
“Who’s her parent?” 
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 
He had a sister? 
“I have a sister?” 
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 
Gods. 
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 
“How did you meet her?” 
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 
A letter. 
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 
So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 
To the one and only Luke Castellan, 
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.  
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 
“You’re awake,” she said. 
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 
Annabeth went silent. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 
“How did you meet her?” he asked. 
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 
Where was Thalia? 
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 
Thalia— 
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 
“Annabeth!” 
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 
“Luke, you’re hurt—” 
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 
“Luke?” you whispered. 
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 
“My friends—” 
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 
“You know what I mean.” 
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 
“The usual,” you mumbled. 
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 
“Bullseye.” 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured. 
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 
“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 
“Just like old times,” you whispered. 
“Just like old times,” he agreed. 
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
And by the gods, you believed him. 
2K notes · View notes
walpu · 2 months
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pre-relationship stage with them
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characters - Gepard, Aventurine notes- gn!reader, pining, light angst but mostly fluffy, a bit of hurt/comfort. I love blonde preservation men okay. no beta we die like the economy in my country
Gepard
Poor poor Geppie.
He pines so much. Treats his love for you like a tender flower. Even his feelings for you is something so precious to him, he's happy to simply be in love with a person like yourself.
I feel like this poor man willd try so much to do everything for you without giving away how deeply he cares and how intense his feelings are.
"Aw, lil' Geppie, you care about y/n so much!"
"I- I do not. I mean, of course I do! But- There's nothing surprising about it. After all, it's my duty as a Captain to care about every citizen. And, of course, it's my duty as a friend to care about y/n.
Sure, Gepard. Sure.
He would never say something like this to your face though. After all, he simply can't lie to you.
Oh but how he adores you. His face literally lights up when he sees you, the most gentle smile blooms on his face when he watches you doing even the most trivial task.
Tries to act like his usual self around you but it's pretty evident to everyone that you're his weak spot.
Would gently scold you if you would ever put yourself in danger or break any rules.
If you would get seriously hurt would actually lose his mind. Would blame himself even if the situation has nothing to do with him. Beats himself up, asks for your forgiveness and does his best to help you.
Despite the popular belief that he would prioritize his work over his beloved, I don't think it's true. Sure, he takes his duties seriously, but he would always find time for you. Would make sure to see you at least two times a weak, would answer your texts and calls. If you need him, would certainly be right by your side. Even if it means he would have to work overtime later.
Tease him a bit and he's all red. Doesn't try to stop you though, secretly adores your attention.
Would be oblivious to the fact that you like him back. Like. Really dense about it.
He's just so used to giving, to protecting, he simply doesn't expect anything in return. He has silently accepted the fact that you may never love him back, but he will be there for you regardless of it, no matter what.
Plus, he feels like he may not be the one for you. Like you need someone who doesn't have to constantly put their life in danger, who can always be by your side, who won't break your heart. Because he's painfully aware that each fight may actually be his last. That he may not come back to you.
Speaking of that. He would make sure to say a proper goodbye to you before every battle or expedition. Nothing too sappy or depressing, he doesn't want to make you worry, after all. Would probably tell you to take care of yourself, to sleep well and to eat healthy food lol. He really just wants to make sure that he got to see you before heading straight into the battle.
If you're a Silvermane guard as well, would restrict himself even more, not wanting to use his position or to be pushy. However, would still be worried sick, even more so. Would still talk to you before every battle, asking almost begging you to be careful.
Loves giving you head pats.
Generally the goodest boy. Just make sure to make the first move because otherwise he would be satisfied with just being your loyal puppy.
Aventurine
Good lord.
This man is such a mess.
Be ready for a mindfuck but not because he's manipulative towards you or something like that but because there's so many layers of trauma in him.
You have to be patient with him okay.
I feel like pre-relationship stage would be so confusing to him. He had flings in the past, okay? Short ones, meaningless. Something to distress, to feel another person's touch, to feel some sort of connection, no matter how shallow it is. He knew he uses those people and that those people use him in return. Not once he asked them to be gentle or caring.
But with you it's so different. Doesn't matter if your relationship started sexually and developed into something more or if it was mostly platonic/slow since the beginning. He still feels something. And he's not sure if he likes it.
Sometimes it feels so good to be seen, to be addressed as a person, not just as a tool. But sometimes it scares him. After all, this man hasn't been vulnerable with anyone for a long, long time.
I'm sorry but I feel like he would try to pull away from you a bit after realizing how much you actually mean to him.
Oh but he will crumble if you reach out to him, okay? He simply can't ditch you like that, not when you see him for him and want him for him.
Even if it's scary.
Would slowly relax around you. Don't expect him to open up easily but still, the more time you spend together, the more his cocky mask will slip away.
Will randomly and out of the blue tell you small details about his past. You two may walk down the street together and he will see something that reminds him of Sigonia so he will share this memory with you.
It may be the smallest thing but it means a lot to him that you listen. Even this tiny moments of vulnerability are hard for him.
On the more positive note, he's so fun to be around. Would tease you and cling to you all of the time. If you tease him back, he would pretend to be offended but would actually enjoy the playful banter a lot.
Just don't tease him too much about him becoming more and more clingy with each passing day.
Spoils you rotten. New clothes, jewelry, watches, shoes, anything you may want or need. He still can't quite get rid of this idea that you have to be convenient for someone to be valuable. It's not like he's trying to buy your love but... Maybe subconsciously he does. Once again, be patient. This man is so used to the fact that all of his alliances are build on mutual benefit that it's still hard to accept that you're really here for him.
Spoiler even when he will feel more stable in your relationship and his mindset will turn more healthy, gift giving will still remain one of his love languages.
Just like Gepard, would care greatly about your safety. He may be careless about his own life but never with yours.
Loves, loves, loves physical contact. As I said before, gets very clingy, putting his arm over your shoulder or tugging on your sleeve. If he's feeling down, would crawl to you side and subtly brush his shoulder against yours or lean to your side. He may still have his confident smile but those small gestures show that he wants you to be the one holding him this time.
Invades your personal space a lot actually. Texts you constantly too lmao.
LOVES SILLY NICKNAMES. Would call you his dearest darling in the sweetest voice during the most inappropriate time and then laugh at your reaction. Would settle for something more casual like "baby" when he's not trying to be a pain in the ass. Still tries to play it off as something teasing. Deep down yearns to call you this without having to pretend that this is just a playful banter between two friends.
Oh and he would dance around the topic of dating, throwing hints but never having the courage to ask openly. So good luck with him.
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
Text
so inviting, i almost jump in.
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pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.
words: 4.5k
notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.
also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞
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"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.
You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.
"Before you say anything-"
"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.
"Doll,"
"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.
"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."
Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.
"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."
"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"
You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.
"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.
"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"
"Mhm...maybe," you say.
"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.
"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.
You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.
You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.
But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...
A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.
Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.
That was an immediate 'no thank you'.
You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.
--
The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.
You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.
You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.
There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.
"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.
"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.
"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"
"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"
He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.
"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.
You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.
"You have to come over."
"No, I really don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You're staying."
"No, I'm not."
"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.
"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I lied."
"Huh? To me? About what?"
"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."
"Another lie?"
"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.
"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.
"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.
Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.
"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.
"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.
"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.
"You had only asked me to be your fake date."
"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."
"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.
"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.
--
More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.
And it's surprising how normal it all feels.
You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!
Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.
You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.
You were here.
With Bucky.
So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.
The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.
"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."
You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.
Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.
This is easy for him because it means nothing.
This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.
Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...
You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.
"Oo, countdown is going!"
The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.
You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.
You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.
As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.
Two.
He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.
One.
"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.
"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.
His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…
You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.
You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.
You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.
The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.
"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.
You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.
There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.
Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.
You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.
The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...
He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?
Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.
You look at yourself once more in the mirror.
Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.
You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.
You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.
"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.
"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.
"I'm sorry. About kissing you."
"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.
His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.
He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.
You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.
He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.
You walk back out into the living room as he follows.
"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"
"... I guess not."
"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."
He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"
"What are friends for if not clean up?"
He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.
He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.
"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."
"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."
"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."
"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."
"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"
Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."
"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.
Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.
Other things, of course, being you.
When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.
He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...
Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.
Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.
"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.
"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"
"If you don't ask, you'll never know."
He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.
But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?
"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.
Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.
It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...
You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.
You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.
You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.
"I guess I'll head out, then."
"Oh," he breathes.
"Oh?"
"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."
"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.
Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.
"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."
"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.
"What's your resolution?" he asks.
"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."
"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."
"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.
"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.
You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.
"And you?"
Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.
"I…would like to communicate better."
You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."
"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.
"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.
"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."
You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.
It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.
"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."
"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.
"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.
Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.
"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.
You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.
Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.
"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.
He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.
"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.
It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.
You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...
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