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number-onekidqueen · 4 months

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𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝

Part Two Part One

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Comforting angst

warnings: character death, depression, lots of crying.

Days passed, days since your ki- hang out with Luke.

Hang out? Who were you kidding? It was clear it wasn’t him.

But you’d laid yourself bare to him, been about to confess all your feelings and he had just shut you down and run away.

Of course you didn’t wanna talk about it in the morning.

The tragedy was he did.

And just when you were feeling better, and your conversations weren’t so awkward, fate tossed you to the ground again, as it often did. You still didn’t really believe it.

Cecilia, your cabin counsellor, your beloved older sister had died on the road to college. It seemed impossible.

Of course, they’d had a brief ceremony, a burning of a golden yellow shroud weaved with her own fingers. And then they’d appointed you as cabin counsellor, announced a bunch of new kids had arrived and everyone forgot.

It made you sick to think people would forget Cecilia. That the three Apollo kids your cabin had greeted would grow up without her and never know of her presence.

Obviously, your cabin was upset, but they didn’t make it so as Aphrodite always did. The sun keeps shining, and Apollo kids kept going, laughing, training, even if muffled sobs could be heard the first few nights. They never talked of her, and after the first week, she was a sad little scar that had scabbed.

It still hurt a little, but the memory was what hurt the most.

Except for you. She was still a mortal, lethal wound for you. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure and pretend everything was okay.

Shortly, it all cracked and spilled out from you. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault really. Chiron was just trying to be supportive to little Will, but when he praised enthusiastically that he was the best archer he’d scene for 300 years, tears seemed to burst from you.

Because that had been Cecilia’s title. She had been the best archer, training all the little ones supportively and making people gasp with the precision of her shots.

It seemed Chiron had already forgotten. Everyone had.

It was like losing her all over again.

No one saw the little sun cracking on the archery field. They just noticed you disappearing behind some clouds.

You didn’t pay attention to the stares and whiplash glances of some, as you ran back to your cabin with tears streaming, and your heart in your throat.

Didn’t notice as a tall brunette boy on the sword plains spotted you, dropped his sword immediately and with a shouted apology behind him began to sprint after you.

Your bed was warm and comforting, the covers swaddled around your shoulders in a safe cocoon as you sobbed your heart and soul onto your pillow.

Cecelia was dead. Dead. This is what you would deal with every day for the rest of your life, she was dead and she would be replaced and forgotten and no one would even know her and-

The door creaked open and immediately you stilled, pretending to be asleep.

“Y/N?” It was Luke.

Not the timing, you thought to yourself miserably.

“Y-yeah,” you tried for a sleepy yawn, but it came out cracked and pained. Ugh.

“You ok?” He asked quietly, and you heard his footsteps approach.

“Yeah, yeah. Just woke up.” But your voice was hollow and very much awake.

He sat softly at the edge of your bed, and for a while you were both still. Only your breath was audible. Then, tentatively and slowly, you began to feel his warm fingers slide through your hair. It was so comforting and lovely that you had to swallow down the wave of tears that surfaced.

“It’s okay, you know,” he murmured, your hair in glorious tangles around his knuckles, “to cry. You don’t have to pretend. Especially for me.”

“Yeah, I know,” you whispered back, “it’s just-“ you hesitated.

I love you.

I don’t want to burden you with all my stupid problems.

“You probably don’t want to talk about this to anyone, right? Me included.” He guessed, and he began to retract his fingers and you felt like screaming at how utterly wrong he was. “I’m sorry, I should give you space.”

“No, you don’t have to. You can stay here.” You tried not to beg, but you were inches from clinging onto him to stop his departure. He understood.

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then here I’m staying. In your bed.” He reassured comfortingly, “I mean, on.”

His flustered stuttering made you smile weakly and turn to face him.

His whole face softened, lost all his fluster and stress when your eyes met, but you were too busy setting your head into his lap so you faced up at him to notice.

He traced your tear tracks, brushing any remaining ones away with his thumbs.

“I know the pain feels awful,” he said suddenly, “but if you ever feel bad, like you can’t breathe or you’re about to burst, don’t keep it in y/n, come find me. I’m always here for you, always.”

“Thank you.” You said near inaudibly.

“I hate seeing you cry,” he confessed, his forehead crinkling, “or being sad. It just hurts me. But I love making you feel better, I’d do anything in the world to make you happy, I promise.”

“Thank you.” You said louder this time, your cheeks beginning to heat up.

It was a peaceful few seconds you gazed at each other, smiling. Then you closed your eyes, comforted.

You felt warm hands lift your body, and your eyes fluttered open. But it was just Luke lying down beside you and repositioning yourself on his chest.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “just figured we might be here for a while.”

His arms encircled you, and even in your drunken state of misery, your heart rate sped up. You turned your head slightly, so you could hide your bashful grin in the orange folds of his shirt. His chest was warm, comforting, and you could feel every deep breath he took.

“Sorry,” you murmured, facing up once more, “your shirt’s probably going to be all soggy after this.”

“I don’t mind a soggy shirt if it makes you happy.” He breathed, and your heart was bursting from the love that statement invoked when you saw his eyes flicker. Your eyes. Your mouth.

Could he really-

Surely not-

Eyes. Mouth.

The air was electric, as if Zeus himself was in the cabin. The space was getting tighter and smaller and everything was so close and dizzy and what in the gods before you knew it you were nose to nose and you could feel his warm breath and he was leaning down to kiss you against the pillow.

It might’ve been the best kiss you ever had. With salt on your tongue, and sweetness from his lips, the tastes of all your emotions were combined, giving way to the most passionate and fantastic kiss you’d ever had. Your head was pressed to the pillow, and he was moving above you, warm, soft and pouring his heart out to you, the gateway his lips. It seemed every single ‘I love you’ either of you had ever been too afraid to say was expressed strongly now, each drop of attraction and love and feeling was encapsulated between the movement of your lips.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” he breathed, against your lips, when you finally pulled apart, both of you panting, “I didn’t want to do anything while you were drunk. But of course I wanted to. I wanted you. I have for so long.”

“It’s okay. I have too,” and you laughed, all those emotions and secrets finally free. You were so giddy with joy! But Luke remained tense, nervous for a reason you couldn’t determine. You calmed down, scared it was all about to come crashing down.

“It’s- it’s not just that, y/n,” he paused, sitting up further away, eyes still looking profoundly into yours, “I love you. I love you, all of you, and you should know that to me you’ve never been a burden, only a miracle to have been with.”

Your breath was caught in your throat, blown away by his confession. You were expecting he might’ve been crushing on you? But loving you? You’d never dared to consider that as an option. And you were beyond thrilled.

“Now would be a great time to say anything,” he laughed nervously, fingers brushing over your shoulders restlessly. You immediately felt awful for keeping him waiting.

“I love you too.” You blurted, letting silence ensue. “You make me so happy every time you make a joke or take care of the new unclaimed kids. I’m just in shock.”

And then the pair of you were laughing together, foreheads pressed together before you were tangled in an embrace, that led to another heated kiss on your bed.

You knew soon other campers would arrive to see two head counselors kissing, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. In fact, while Luke’s like we’re on yours, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts at all.

In the back of your mind, you were still sobbing over Cecilia. Deeply, you knew you always would. Your heart would always be chipped in that way, the missing fragment forever in her fist as she wandered Elysium.

But you also knew how happy she would be to see you thriving, dating and loving Luke, a boy she had always suggested and approved of. She imagined her now, giggling in delight and grinning at what had transpired. And slowly, the pain began to lift.

Maybe a scar would be okay, as long as you loved and remembered it.

Most of all, you knew that for as long as you required a shoulder to make soggy, Luke would always be there to be your comfort person.

taglist:

@lifeonawhim

@sflame15-blog

@star611

I think this was all, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just comment or message me :)

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mthollowell-writes · 10 months

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Writer Q&A Tag Game

Thanks again to @digital-chance for the tag! You can find their original post here!

1)What motivates you to write?

My own ego (I kid...sorta).

I love creating worlds and giving life to the various voices inside my head. I love teasing out ideas and constructing (too) intricate plots and scenarios. Writing is my escape from the daily grind (for good and bad) and my main outlet for expression. I honestly wouldn't be me without my writing.

2) A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

I'll share something from a short story currently on ice until I get around to editing it. It's tentatively called "Cosmic Self-Serve"

Unfathomable eldritch horrors weren’t on my Tuesday night bingo card but it takes all types to keep a gas station in the black. I took another pack of gum from the rack and popped a stick in my mouth, praying for brain freeze. Cool mint took over my senses and I felt like a person again. Gary won’t be happy with my lack of respect for “stock integrity” but that’s why our corporate gods gave us shrink. Also Gary’s an asshole so screw Gary.

3) Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

I'm going to have to give this to September from my Festival Project WIP. He's such a mess of a character despite his best efforts to keep it together. He has a pretty lengthy backstory for "reasons that drift a smidge into spoiler territory." On the surface, he's calm and collected and can weather any storm with clear head, but that comes from a long history of battling demons (both real and internal). He currently puts these talents towards being the Editor in Chief at his newspaper office.

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

The initial brainstorming and outlining stage. I love plotting out stories free from the expectation of making the words sound pretty. I do still enjoy making the words pretty but sometimes I stall getting too caught up in that.

5) What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

The dialogue, though I will be the first to admit that I can get carried away with it. I also credit myself as a very meticulous plotter, in the actual plot and with character backstories. I've been told that my shorter stories tend to subvert expectation and go in unexpected places (but this too has its pitfalls as my earlier writing has been labelled as confusing by certain peers in writing workshops).

Even when I'm trying to stroke my ego, I keep offering caveats.

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

Honestly, how supportive everyone is! We're always trying to build each other up and the discussions I see on my feed where people excitedly talk about their stories and OCs remind me why writing is so much fun. And the games, of course. My god, these games! I love them!

7) A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I recently took the plunge and bought Scrivener and I'm liking it so far. It's a bit of a learning curve with all the features you can play with, but I love how you can organize stories and bookmark things within each text section for referencing. Best of all, (and as far as I'm aware) you only have to pay once for it (unlike some other subscription based programs). With that being said, I do love Microsoft Word for smaller projects and its backup feature.

I also use a timer on my computer (I have Windows so there's a clock app that you can adjust). On days that I'm really struggling to motivate myself, dividing my time into smaller increments can get me through the slog.

8) A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

Egad, what a broad question! I have to think about that for a second...

There's a unique Protestant-inspired church branch within Hollow Grove that's known as the Edelhaus Coalition Church. It's also uniquely American, whose foundation is the old Puritan work ethic that emphasizes hard work as a core tenet that guarantees a path to heaven.

Where it diverges is its belief in The Founder and the concept of The Faithful. The Faithful are the true believers that have gained immense favor with God through their hard work and aptitude. As evidence of his favor, he gives The Faithful powers over nature. The Founder (who many believe was the original historical founder of the town, Goodwin Hollow) was the first Faithful and every Festival of Shadows, the evidence of his will is seen in the resurrection of the recently deceased every festival year. This holiday is celebrated by all in the Edelhaus Coalition church for this reason. It's also why many acolytes within the church opt for natural burial for a chance to walk the earth again.

There's more to it but in the spirit of brevity, that's all I'll say for now.

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

I'll say it again, write what you love. There's no point in writing something you don't.

I also want to emphasize the importance of breaks. Sometimes if the words aren't flowing (or there's just so much going in your life), never feel ashamed of putting the pen down and coming back to a story later. The time away can offer fresh perspective. It can divert your attention to something else that you're equally passionate about. I sometimes like to procrastinate on one story with another. If I can't write at all, sometimes reading or watching something can inspire you.

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

I'm truly inspired by reading the snippets of stories from @digital-chance (that's two mentions now!) @rmgrey-author @palebdot @tabswrites @writingbyricochet and @fatexweaver. I appreciate the support and interactions I've had with @vintagecivet @macabremoons @friendlyshaped @aestatismors @leisoree @words-after-midnight @axl-ul @nai-nty-8 and @nonsenseramble. Seriously, you all rock and I appreciate all of you!

I'm going to go ahead and gently tag all these beautiful folks listed above as well as some newer mutuals who I hope to get to know more @girlfromthecrypt @elhuei @isherwoodj @poemsbymo @robin-writes-a-lot and anyone who would like to participate!

#tag games #tagged #writer's q&a tag #long post #mt writes #writeblr #festival project #cosmic wip

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