#Angst I guess

[slu7formen]

luke castellan x fem!reader

luke finds you after you went missing in quest. on the way back home, luke’s determined to take care of you.

warnings: mention of weight loss, wounds, bl00d, just overall crying, reader and luke shower together 🫣, intimacy, kinda angst ???? idk it’s one of my first times writing this

₊˚⊹♡

There was a tense silence in the car. The cold night air hitting your face was refreshing yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of that nauseous feeling in your stomach and throat. Luke occasionally darted his gaze to you, but quickly looked back to the road, almost as if checking if you were still there or not.

"We´re almost there" he blurted out suddenly, glancing at you again. He��s been like this since he found you, trying to get you to talk, but you wouldn´t say a thing. It was ironic, how you used to spend so much time with Luke when you were younger and how he went through hell and back just to find you and yet, you were unable to form a word. Luke didn´t blame you though. He understood you more than anyone else. He didn´t want to talk to anyone when he came back from that quest that condemned him with more than one scar for the rest of his life.

And seeing you like this now, it was only like looking at his own reflection. He saw in you what everybody saw in him at seventeen.

The dirt on your clothes, or what was left of it, you were covered in a soft white blanket that Luke found in the back of the car. The dirt on your skin, your hair, under your nails. You didn´t have any old wounds visible, but fresh ones that were made just a few minutes ago when you and Luke had to fight your way out the cave of that cyclops. It stained the blanket.

You´ve lost weight, too much. Only you know how many hours or even days did that cyclops leave you to starve, weakening you more and more. Your skin seemed fragile, like a thin layer of glass, and that was your only protection.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

It took him time to find you, like a week or more. Chiron was convinced you´d find your way out of that mission, but when two weeks became three, and three became three more, that´s when camp started to get worried. No one dared to follow the same path you did, except Luke. What could he loose? Nothing but his own life. Chiron trusted him, and thank the Gods he did.

Luke couldn´t forget the sight of you when he found you, laying on the hard rocks, unconscious. If he hadn´t gotten there on time, you would have probably been eaten alive. When he lifted you up, he didn't want to admit the fact that you felt light, lighter than before. How weak he felt you.

He caught a glimpse of a tear when he got you into the car and put on your seatbelt, but again, he knew you wouldn´t make a sound. You both left the place silently, only trusting that Luke was driving you somewhere safe, that everything was over, that the cyclops stayed right in Tartarus where he belonged, and that Luke wasn´t going to be your second kidnapper.

At least the car, which was stolen, worked like wonders. The entire road trip was silent, sometimes broken by the sniffing of your nose or your uncomfortable movements. Luke couldn´t take you to camp, not yet at least, and as much as he wanted to, he also couldn´t. It was too far away now, and besides, you needed a proper rest.

"We´re here" he said as he parked the car. A solely motel stood there, on the side of the road, no sign of any other human or not human life around, just the dry and cold road, endless in the night. Luke knew this place was safe from any danger, he stayed there last night.

The receptionist didn´t even bother to look up and see that Luke was walking in with another person, wrapped in a white blanket and dirty. She just handed him the keys, her eyes glued to some fashion magazine.

The room was nothing special, just a small bed, a small table with two chairs, an old and uncomfortable looking sofa, a bathroom, and a closet. A tv was hanging on the wall, and a small fridge was standing in the corner. At least, you had a small balcony. You looked around, eyes trained and ready to decipher any type of danger, yet your head wouldn´t stop throbbing with pain, your eyes barely getting used to the artificial yellow light. Luke had placed his belongings on the bed, but as soon as your eyes caught them, he removed them and placed them over the table. "Sit" he demanded.

You obeyed, sitting on the bed and keeping a close eye on the older boy, watching as he opened the small fridge and brought out a bottle of water along with something wrapped in aluminum foil. "It´s what I have now" Luke stated, placing the wrapped food in your hands, if he was starved, he couldn´t imagine how your stomach was feeling. "I´ll get some more tomorrow, okay?"

You didn´t answer. Instead, you stared at the food. Luke was slightly startled when your fingers started to work rapidly around the foil, unwrapping the cold grilled cheese sandwich. You devoured it like a wild animal, taking big bites and barely even able to swallow before biting again. Luke chuckled slightly, placing a hand on your back, soothing slowly. "Easy there" he said, "It's all yours"

Your hands started to shake, your stomach protesting against the amount of food you were giving it after long weeks of starving. Tears started to prick your eyes, and Luke noticed. "Thank you, Luke" you sobbed out as soon as that sandwich disappeared. Your head crashed onto his shoulder, crying as Luke quickly wrapped an arm around you, "thank you" you kept repeating. Luke and you were close when you were younger, around fifteen or fourteen, but now a lot has changed. Yet, Luke never stopped looking after you.

It felt weird to cry on him. Your weeks of torture, pain, hunger and dirt and fear pressing onto Luke´s shoulders like a dark cloak, yet you couldn´t bring yourself to stop. You smelled the fresh air, clean one, how your back didn´t have goosebumps because you didn´t feel as if someone was behind you, waiting to attack. You felt safe and relaxed, but it was too overwhelming to feel thar way.

"Shh" Luke soothed, running a hand through your hair, "it's alright, I've got you"

And you stayed like that for a moment. You cried, and he held you. He knew how hard it was, and he didn't want to say anything that would hurt your feelings, so he remained quiet.

When your breathing evened out, your tears dried up and the shakiness of your hands died down, you brought yourself to stand up slowly. "I'm sorry" you whispered. You hated how your face got all red and puffy from crying, how the tears blurred your vision and how your voice sounded hoarse and shaky.

"No need," Luke smiled, "how about you take a shower?" he suggested, eyebrows rising softly.

You didn´t answer, Gods, you totally forgot what even a shower felt like. You suddenly felt embarrassed, what did you look like now? Your hair was probably way too dirty, all hard and tangled, not to mention the rest of your body. You were so disgusting, you didn't even know where to begin. That cyclops spat on you way too many times for you to not smell like his saliva, some of it even stuck to your clothes. Your breath must´ve been horrific, and you were sure you´d have to ask Luke for some extra underwear.

He stands up quick and jumps to the bathroom. You stand there, smelling your hair and immediately feeling as disgusted as ever. You hear the water running, Luke had turned on the shower for you. He must´ve noticed the way your eyes darted around nervously, a hundred thoughts and questions invading your mind in just a second. You wondered how much time you were there, standing like an idiot, for him to offer to turn on the water.

He came back quick, smiling softly and patting your shoulder. "It's all yours, don't worry, I won't watch"

You nod, a little embarrassed that you couldn´t even do the simplest tasks and he had to help you with it. "Thanks" you said again, removing the blanket over your shoulders and placing it over the bed. Luke watched as you walked away, the dried blood on your arms and fresh wounds decorating your pale skin like a canvas, he was sure he had some bandages or ambrosia to help you with that.

He sighed and threw himself on the bed, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv, trying his best not to think about you. He couldn't let his mind go back to the moment he found you, and the state you were in. It reminded him so much of him just a few years back. He promised himself to change, to not care, to foil his own heart with a thick layer of ice, but as soon as he realized how ugly things were turning after you didn´t come back, who was once his friend, that ice started to melt.

He wondered why were you even the one to leave in the first place, what were you thinking? Why did you accept the mission? Why didn't you say no? Luke couldn't bring himself to hate Chiron for sending you out there. It wasn't his fault, nor yours. You were young, and Luke knew it wasn't your first time either, but the danger was worse than any other mission you accomplished. He couldn´t stop thinking about you for some reason, maybe even way before you left, you were a part of his mind.

He was like an eagle, keeping an eye on you, watching, but never attacking. Never making his presence known. But then, the news of your missing broke his silence, his invisibility. It was just the same as if you were dead, and he was forced to watch as his friends cried over your absence.

"Luke?"

He jumped out of his position, startled by the sudden sound of your voice. The water was still running, he heard it, but you walked out of the bathroom with a towel around your fragile body. You were dripping little droplets, but you weren´t done, you weren´t clean. Still dirty, still bloody.

"What´s wrong?" he asked, maintaining his position on the bed.

"I-" you stuttered, embarrassed, "I can't do it"

Luke tilted his head in confusion "Do what?"

"Wash my hair, or- myself"

Your hair was wet, but not completely soaked, meaning you must´ve tried to wash it yourself but couldn't do it. "You can't reach it?" he asked, almost in disbelief rather than worry.

You shake your head, your cheeks red in embarrassment. You looked at Luke, and then at the ground, hoping that it would just open up and swallow you whole. "My arms hurt too much" you explain.

Luke stands up then, walking slowly towards you. As he does, you extend your arms to him, for him to see. Luke never noticed the purple rings that decorated your wrists, a clear sign of handcuffs or some type of chain. In the darkness of the night and the cave, he must´ve mistaken it with dirt on your skin, just as the rest of your body, covered in soot and dirt. He follows the path up to your forearms, which were a little better, but filled with cuts, fresh and old ones. He looks at your left bicep then, where a nasty purple bruise stood, three fat lines, just as fat as the cyclops’ hand.

Luke´s about to say something, that he understands, the he´ll help, but you turn around then. Luke sees the old wound on your other arm, your triceps, a clean deep cut probably executed with a knife or a pointy rock, the yellow, green and blue nebula-like image staining your skin.

His fingers tent to grab you softly, but he looks somewhere else. Slowly, he moves your hair out of the way, placing it over your shoulder softly. He stares then, looking at what the towel wasn´t able to cover. More bruises, although small, looked painful over your muscles. There were more cuts too. Scratches. Near your spine, a long pale pink stripe, stood proudly on your skin. It looked fine, but it must've hurt like hell, even more with such a slow healing. It would scar. If only Luke had come sooner.

"Get back in the shower" he demanded softly, placing his hands on your naked shoulders. "I´ll help you get clean"

You nod, not bothering to turn and look at him, but rather, just obeying. "Will you-, get in with me?"

Luke feels his heart race. He didn't mean to sound suggestive, no. His face was red. Your body was hot, he was sweaty, and the bathroom was filled with steam. His clothes started to stick to his skin, making him feel hotter and hotter, and the thought of being in the shower with you only made him want to slap himself and stay awake.

"Um-," he breathed out, trying to hide the way his voice cracked slightly, the way his throat went dry. "If you want to, I mean" he clears his throat, "I don´t want to make you uncomfortable"

"You won´t" you assure him. "But if it´s uncomfortable for you-"

"No" he interrupts you, way too quickly. "I mean, I´ll help you if that's what you want"

You don't bother to turn around, instead, you walk in the bathroom. Luke watches, his eyes trained on the back of your body, how some of your bones poked out slightly, the bruises, the cuts, the scratches. You close the door then, and Luke stands there, waiting. His heart starts to race and beat harder and harder, his hands sweat, his knees feel weak. He didn't even realize how bad his palms were sweating, and he rubs them over his shorts. Why was he so nervous? It wasn´t as if you were asking him to do anything weird, you just needed help and it was pitiful. You couldn´t even move properly, for God´s sake.

"You can come in" he hears you say.

He gulps, and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the air fill his lungs. He opens the door then, and walks in. He sees the towel hanging on the doorknob when he begins to remove his clothes. He grabs the edge of his boxers, wondering if it was really necessary to take it off. He takes a look at the shower, the curtain closed, the water running, he barely saw a glimpse of your shadow. Just the thought of walking in there made cold sweat drip down his spine.

He takes a deep breath, and removes his underwear. He figures that if nothing was meant to happen, and that you were fine with him seeing you, then he didn´t have to worry about you seeing him.

When he enters, the hot steam hits his body like a soft cloud, enveloping him in a warm embrace, and the water feels hot. He sees you, under the shower, the water running down your body, though it looked unpleasant. He doesn´t dare to look down or somewhere else that isn´t your face, yet he doesn´t feel like it´s a forced action. You make him comfortable, even when you´re in the most vulnerable state you´ll ever be in your life, he doesn´t feel anything else other than comfort.

You smile softly at him then, and he steps behind you. You hear him breathe heavily once or twice, but neither of you say anything. "Can I?" he asks then, pointing at the cheap motel shampoo. You nod, and let him do whatever he has to. It felt weird, having someone else take care of you this way. You didn´t know why you felt the need of him protecting you this way, but it wasn´t bad.

He pours some in his hands and places it over your hair, slowly working his way through the knots. You relax, the feeling was strange yet welcome. You forgot how pleasant and orgasmic showers were. He massages softly, avoiding to pull at any strand, and it feels nice. Soothing, almost. Your head throbs less, and the headache that had been bothering you since Luke took you out of that cave started to disappear slowly. His hands were gentle, caring, and his breathing was soft behind your neck.

It was hard for him, though. To pretend as if nothing was happening. His heart was beating harder and faster with each second, the blood rushing through his veins, his palms sweaty and his eyes wanting to look elsewhere. But he was afraid, he couldn´t risk losing his cool and making you feel uncomfortable, so he didn´t dare. He was thankful you were facing away, that way, you couldn't see the way his cheeks blushed.

"Thank you" you whispered, the water running down your face and hair. Luke had managed to get rid of all the knots in your hair, and you felt so much better already.

"Don't thank me" he replied, letting the shampoo fall of your hair to cleanse. He took the little bottle again then, and repeated the process. He figured that just one round of shampoo wouldn´t be enough for you.

He followed the same path with the hair conditioner. He looked down briefly when he was done, careful not to go too low, but he noticed the dirt still lingering on your skin, the one that the splash of hot water couldn´t clean. He grabbed the soap then, and lathered it softly in his hands. His eyes lingered on the scars that decorated your body, he wondered what did they come from, where were you hit and how, why did you get them and how did they look like before.

He got close to your ear, "Let me know if anything hurts, okay?" he asked softly. You barely look at him over your shoulder, and you nod. It was more than obvious that everything would hurt, even the water splashing on your skin, yet you wouldn´t complain about it all.

He pressed the soap against your skin, but he didn’t dare to touch you any more than that. His free hand remained in his side, away from you. You didn´t know if he was doing it because he didn't want to touch you, or because he wanted you to tell him it was okay to do so, and that he was allowed to touch. His hands rubbed the soap, creating a thin layer over the dirt and grime. You closed your eyes. it was better to think of anything else other than the feeling of his hands on you, but you found your mind wandering to his body, only separated by air.

His hand rubbed circles on your shoulder almost as a kind gesture for you to warm up, but you couldn’t help but interpret it more than that. It was such a small kind gesture, but your body reacted in such ways to it ― goose bumps spreading like wildfire across your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

You hissed when he started rubbing your back, the soapy water stung your wounds, the smaller they where, the worse it hurt.

Luke stopped. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, but it wasn´t convincing. "It just burns a little" you explain, little tears stung your eyes.

He understood, and continued. He was careful not to press too hard or anything, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you more. He watched as the soap did its magic, how it got rid of the dirt and grime that stuck on your skin.

He dared to step a little closer when he reached your neck. He felt warm, his hands were soft, his grip gentle. You felt like you could fall asleep in the comfort of his embrace, warm and soft, not daring to harm. You closed your eyes, the water running down your face. Your breathing was soft, and you didn't have a clue of what you were doing to him.

His fingers on your neck tickle a little, yet it feels as if the most precious touch someone could ever give you. It felt sweet, tender, and you couldn't help but lean into the touch. Just slightly, just a little bit, you let your hair fall. It reaches Luke´s shoulder barely, yet Luke feels a wake of warm comfort over him.

He feels the need to grab you, to hold you. He wants to wrap his arms around you, he wants to tell you it's going to be alright, and that he's got you, but he can't. Not yet.

The soap´s smell impregnates in your body. Though cheap, it´s sweet. It smells like peaches, a deep artificial version of it at least. It was relaxing, almost like a lullaby. He stops then, his fingers lingering over the bruise on your triceps. The cut looks a little better without all the dirt and irritation, yet the bruise around it remains the same. He brushes it softly with his thumb, like a comforting caress. It doesn´t hurt, so you say nothing.

That same hand travels up then, careful not to brush any other wound, not allowing himself to hear a single cry come out from your lips. The water´s still hot when he reaches your shoulder, and your breathing has slowed down, yet his heart beats faster than ever.

He lets himself get lower, his torso leaning into you, his head lowering. His nose grazes your shoulder softly, just a slight movement, almost an innocent gesture. Your skin was soft, delicate. And he lets himself go lower, his lips placing a kiss on your shoulder.

It´s small and tender, lasted less than a few seconds. But he stays there, his hair getting wet, the water dripping down the side of your body, like you and him got frozen in time. The waters keeps on running but the room is filled with silence, as if it had to be broken by one of you. You say nothing, nor him.

Luke doesn´t have the heart to pull away. He doesn´t know why did he kiss you, he doesn´t know why did he allow himself to be this close, but he wanted to do it again, and he couldn´t bring himself to regret it. It felt like the most natural thing, and he wonders if he had gone mad, if he was still sane or not. But you did not reject him, nor did you pull away.

Your hand is tentative when you reach for his, the one placed on your shoulder. You feel his chest pressed onto your back, and you can feel the heat coming from him, how the water droplets run down his hair, his neck and his face, and how his breath is soft against your skin, warm, and it tickles a little.

He kisses again, the same spot, and then once more. Your hand is warm in his, and your fingers brush softly against his knuckles, like an encouraging gesture. He kisses once more, and then his lips travel further up, reaching your neck, and the next thing you feel is his lips on your pulse point. They press there, and stay still. It tingles your whole skin, goosebumps travelling from your ribs to your toes, the feeling exciting you.

He´s the one holding your hand then, flipping it and taking a soft hold of your wrist, careful not to squeeze your bruises around it. He lifts your hand close to his face, but his lips travel directly to your wrist, maybe a little lower, kissing your forearm. Over the tiny cuts, the scratches. He doesn´t press, and he doesn´t hurt. The warmth of his lips is inviting, and his tongue is soft, the way his mouth opens and closes over your skin like a delicate flower. When you dare to look a little closer, to look at him, his lips go to your knuckles, pressing softly over the dry blood that stained your hands. His lips were soft, like a cloud, and tender. He kisses them all, so gentle and soft that it makes you forget about the pain, how sore you are, and it makes you want to touch him too.

Just from one of his kisses on your hand.

He stops then, his sweet lips separating from your skin, but his hand still held yours. He wrapped his hand around yours, your fingers curling inside the grip of his own, trapping it in his warm embrace. Your body still faces the front, the water splashing both of your bodies as you lock eyes with him. He presses his forehead to yours, and his nose gently brushes against yours, the tip of it going up and down your own.

Your hear and feel his breath, even though it feels steady. Your heart beats a thousand miles, and you can´t help yourself but to close your eyes and feel. He leans closer then, his lips inches away from yours, and you can feel his breath and taste the water that runs down his lips and his chin, and suddenly, the space between your bodies doesn't feel big.

But it was. Because when the distance was about to be broken and Luke´s lips would finally press against yours, you had to pull away.

He doesn't look upset, he doesn't look hurt, his expression doesn't change. He knows. And that's the best part, how he doesn't feel bad for the mistake. You pull away almost as if you were pulling yourself away from him fully, yet you didn´t. You stayed close enough to feel his presence pressing behind you, yet far enough for him to not be able to reach your lips. He lets go of your hand, and you can´t help but think of yourself as someone stupid. Such a warm feeling, such a comfortable and protected embraced, destroyed by you, and your fears.

"I, uh..." you darted, facing the wall, your wet hands pressed to your face. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, it's fine" he said, his voice was still soft, yet the way his tone changed was noticeable. You could hear the embarrassment in his words. ¨You don't have to apologize, really. I'm sorry"

"No, don't-" you breathed out, trying to find the right words. You didn't want him to apologize for something he didn't do. It was all your fault. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment, it's just... I-"

"Really, don't worry about it" Luke insisted, trying to keep the situation calm. The water was starting to feel cold, and the room was getting less steamy, but neither of you bothered. He placed a hand on your shoulder again, careful not to startle you. "Can I still help you?" he asks.

You look down at yourself, how weird your body looked like this now. Almost clean. "It's fine, I can clean my... front"

You slapped yourself in your mind for that. Luke chuckled silently behind you. "Okay" he sighed. He opened the curtain and slowly stepped outside the shower, partly because he didn´t want to leave, and partly because he didn´t want to slip in the wet floor. "Let me know if you need me for when you're done"

You nodded, and then he was gone. As soon as he walked out the door, you leaned back, letting your head rest on the wall behind you. Your breathing was shaky, and your legs felt weak. The room was filled with the sound of the running water and the beating of your heart. It felt like a dream, yet you couldn't believe how stupid were you. The both of you naked? In the shower? You let him see you like this? What the hell were you thinking?

You felt a little desperate for human touch, that was a fact but, did you have to go this far? What if he thought you were easy? He probably felt pity, and that was why he was helping you. What if you made things weird between you two now?

You finished quickly, cleaning yourself up the best you could, but the process was long. Your body hurt, and no matter how hard you tried, there were still wounds that refused to be cleaned, and it only frustrated you more. You got out of the shower nicely though, wrapped in two surprisingly cozy towels. You noticed the unfamiliar clothes resting on a wooden chair that wasn´t there when you got in the shower. You recognized those sweatpants; Luke brought you clothes.

Luke was lying on the bed watching tv, some old crappy show that distracted him barely from the previous shower experience. You walked slowly, the pain on your legs was almost unbearable. "Um, I'm done"

Luke turned his head to look at you. He was dressed too, wearing a plain shirt and some old sweats. A toothy grin appeared on his lips, "Too big?" he asked, eyes darting down to your covered legs. You blushed a little, startled by the sudden confidence and embarrassed by the fact that you had to hold tight onto those sweats as you walked or else, they'd fall. You sat on the bed next to him, looking for some miracle hairbrush in the empty motel cabinets. You weren´t lucky enough. "I wanted to get you something to eat from the vending machine, but I didn't want to leave you alone" he explained.

You shook your head, "You said we were safe here but it only works when you're in the same room as me?" you suggest, jokingly.

Luke shrugged, "I was sent to find and protect you, so that's what I'll do" he simply replied.

You looked at him, and smiled. How could he be so nice after all the stupid things you've done?

"Don't worry, I'm not even hungry" you stated, completely ignoring his bravery. "I'm just tired, I wanna sleep"

"Sure" Luke smiled. "I'll just turn off the lights and-" he said as he stood up from the bed, walking towards the light switch. "I'll let you sleep"

You frowned your brows though. "Wait, you won't sleep here?" you asked, confused.

Luke reached the switch, yet he didn't touch it. Instead, he glared towards the other side of the room, where the old sofa laid. Now, it was covered in sheets and a pillow, a homemade bed. You noticed the way he tried to avoid your eyes. "I thought you wouldn't want to, you know..." he pointed the bed, followed by a quick scratch on the back of his neck.

You couldn't blame him, honestly. After what happened in the shower, he had all the rights to assume that. But that didn't mean you were okay with it. You didn't want him to sleep uncomfortably on the couch, nor did you want to kick him out of the bed. It was big enough for the two of you. Luke has been having quite rough days, you couldn't help but notice on his tired face. It was his first time resting properly since the mission and he was going to sleep in an old and creaky sofa?

You hissed with pain when you positioned yourself differently on the bed, Luke attempted to grab you as if you were falling, but you got yourself comfortable fast enough. "Don't be silly. Sleep on the bed" you said.

 Luke frowned his brows, followed by a shook of his head in denial "I don't mind sleeping there" he reassured, pointing the couch. "It's not even uncomfortable" he lied, remembering the way he struggled to make it into a bed. ¨At least the sheets are clean, I made sure of that" he added.

"Luke, stop it" you said, behaving tough for a second, "I know you want to sleep here. It´s a bed"

Luke stared at you for a moment, thinking of the way his body was already screaming at him to lay down and sleep. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep there, it was that he wanted to. He knew the bed was big enough, but the shower incident had him doubting himself. Was it alright? Did you even want him there? Or was he invading your privacy? The questions invaded his mind like a disease, and the way you looked at him with pleading eyes was almost enough to convince him, but the last thing he wanted was for you to feel pressured.

"You saved me. It's the least I could do for you now"

Luke felt his heart melt, and he had the biggest urge to hold you and protect you. But instead, he nodded and smiled briefly. He pressed his sweaty hands against his sweatpants as he started walking, but quickly walked back again to do the previous task he didn't finish; turning off the light. You took the sheets of the bed and slipped in slowly, Luke helped you by holding your arms softly. He slipped after quietly, trying not to disturb the peace.

The silence hugged the room, the only sound erupting from a bunch of crickets outside and the low volume coming from the TV. It was a weird sensation, sharing a bed with someone else after being rescued from a cyclops’ cave, and not knowing what was okay or not. It felt wrong, yet you didn't want him to leave. It felt right, though.

"Good night" you whispered then, closing your eyes, the fatigue in your body screaming for a proper sleep.

"Good night" Luke replied, turning to his side, giving you his back. The bed wasn't small, but it wasn't that big either, yet he didn't dare to move a single inch.

You weren't asleep yet. You heard him for a couple minutes, his breathing, the way he moved slightly, how the sheets brushed against his skin. It was a little distracting, but you felt the tiredness take over you, the darkness surrounding you easily. Luke closed his eyes, but the only thing he could think about was your warmth. It was like an oven, and even if he was sweaty, his whole body was hot. He knew exactly what he had to do, what to say, and he stood there, in that abyss in which someone doesn't know what to do, if step forward or step back.

He needed to get it out of his chest, or else, he would regret it forever.

"I've always liked you"

His voice was barely a whisper, but in the silence of the room, it was loud. The air hitched on your throat. You turned your head to see him, but you only perceived he was turning his back to you.

"What?" you asked. Fearing that maybe, he was talking in his sleep.

Your heart began beating fast. It felt like the shower, a hot embrace.

"I've always liked you, yn" he repeated.

There was a moment of silence. Your eyes were trained on his figure, yet he didn't dare to look back at you. You felt a knot in your stomach, butterflies. Your breathing was calm, yet your heart was beating a thousand miles. Why was he telling you this now?

"I know you have a million things running through your mind right now and I know I'm being selfish, but" he said, words coming out like vomit, "I was so glad that I found you. I'm relieved that you're alive. I guess I'm letting all my emotions get in the way and that's why I'm telling you this now"

It was hard to formulate the right words. He didn't know what was going on, or what he was doing, he didn't know why. Maybe the heat had gotten into his head. It was stupid, the feeling, but he couldn't deny it. He knew that, sooner or later, he'd have to tell you.

Fuck, and if he was telling you this he was going to have to do it the right way.

He turned his body around once again, the bed creaking with his weight. You couldn't see much because of the dark, yet the tv light did just enough for you to see his glistening eyes.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while" he admitted, embarrassed. "But I've always cared for you and you know it. I realized why I cared so much after I lost you"

You stared at him, his brown eyes shining under the yellow light. He was right, the two of you didn't speak since a few years ago, but he was the one to blame. After his own mission, he blew everyone away, every person that tried to help him, including you. He though you did it for pity; he hates pity.

"So seeing you now, after nobody knew anything about you, it's just..." he continued, unable to find the right words. "I'm just glad I'm the one who found you. And I'm sorry about the shower, I-" he rushed himself to correct that mistake before you thought of him as a pervert. "I don't want you to think that I'm trying to do something with you. I wouldn't take advantage of you, and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know that-"

You cut him off, "I know" you said, reassuring him. You let your hand fall back, placing it over the mattress. "Gods, relax, Luke" you breath out.

You let your hand hover his for a second, until he took the initiative to brush his fingers against yours, carefully and slow. The warmth spread from his hand to yours, and soon, the contact was enough. His eyes darted down, and his thumb brushed softly over the bruises and cuts on your skin.

He had so many things he wanted to say, but none of them left his mouth. He'd have time to do it later.

"Thank you" you said once again. One more time before the day ended didn't hurt anybody.

The corner of his lip twitched in a small smile. "Let's get to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah" you whispered, "But, can you still hold my hand?" you asked.

Luke chuckled softly, squeezing your hand softly, almost pressing it against his chest. "Anytime"

[futurepastme]

SecretConsort!merlin

I had this fic idea before falling asleep, I don't know if anything like this already exists (probably). Be warned that I didn't revise this once.

First of all Arthur and Merlin absolutely love each other, but they start off as friends with benefits. Until one day Arthur can't handle anymore

“Say you're mine. Say you'll be mine and no one else's”

“I'll be yours as long as you're also mine”

And yeah, they go exclusive after that (they already were but now was official) and give them a few months or years, but eventually Merlin becomes Arthur's secret consort and they are officially official, mother's sigil and all, because like I said, they Love each other.

Anyways, eventually Uther finds out they are together and he gets tomato-red furious, and only calms down when Arthur agrees to marry for political reasons, whomever Uther chooses for him.

The thing is, Uther kind of learns to like them as a couple, not that they go all out and about telling the world, because is still supposed to be a secret, but Uther sees the sweet glances and the smiles, and most of all he sees how willingly they are to die for each other and it just sits right with him. Uther thinks Merlin makes a good consort for his son and is in no hurry to marry him off anymore.

But of course, nothing really stays the same, and the day comes where the only way Uther finds to keep peace with another kingdom is to marry Arrhur off to some other king's daughter, and he hates it because he knows and he approves of his relationship with the skinny boy that makes his son so happy.

And then comes the heartbreaking scene of Arthur telling Merlin the news and the even more heartbreaking scene before Arthur's wedding day

“I won't be able to be only yours anymore”

“Maybe not, but I'll always be yours”

And they cry through the night holding each other tightly as if the world were to end, because it just might.

And the next day, Uther can freaking see it 

They are both behaving, no one is causing a scene but from up close you can notice how bloodshot their eyes are. And he can see it in the way they refuse to make eye contact, he can see it as he sees Merlin silently crying as Arthur shows the crowd their future queen.

And Uther hates it.

And is not like the new princess is a horrible person but she just doesn't like Merlin, she doesn't want to share her husband. She makes Merlin leave Arthur's Chambers and forbids him to follow Arthur all day unnecessarily, but she knows she can't win.

Not when the King himself gives Merlin royal chambers on the same floor as theirs, and especially not when Arthur doesn't spend the night on his.

Arthur has duties, though. Husband duties. And he has to fulfill them and it kills Merlin.

And Uther can just watch helplessly as Merlin's gaze follows Arthur and his wife and he stays behind as the servant he is supposed to be and is so unfair because she doesn't even love Arthur 

And they keep growing apart but keep fighting for each other because they are fucking made to be together so they still try even if the best they can do for days is hold each other for a few minutes just breathing each other in because that's home and that's where they are meant to be

It continues for a while until one day comes where Arthur goes out without Merlin

And at the same time while he is away, his wife finds herself with child, and everyone's so happy and Merlin just has to leave for a while because he can't handle it

But again, things never go as planned and the knights return with Arthur's body, because something went wrong 

And you can honestly choose what it was, a curse, a spell, bandits, a boar, a mercenary, it doesn't matter because Arthur is dead now and Merlin wasn't there to save him

And now Uther has to deal not only with the death of his only son, and with his widow wife with child but he'll be the one to tell his consort and is so devastating 

Merlin's face turns from sad to haunting and it's like the world ended and Uther can see himself in him, he can see the death of his love weighting on Merlin the way it weighed on him, if not worse

Arthur's body stays inside the castle for two days before the burial so the people of the castle can say their goodbyes and no one has seen Merlin, they are not even sure he went to see Arthur 

And everyone is concerned about the poor widow all dressed in black, she is sad, sure, but the tears rolling from her eyes are just for show, Arthur was barely a friend, but he was good to her

Arthur's body is being prepared for removal, overseen by his family and close friends before the public ceremony took place, and that's when it happens 

Merlin just barges in and stops everything. 

He's spent two days working in it, and he just doesn't care anymore, as long as it works

And Uther once again just watches as this skinny boy fills the room with golden light, and he can't even care to do anything because honestly he would do everything for his love if he could 

And everyone watches as the light coming from Merlin starts being absorbed by Arthur through his chest and is so beautiful to watch

Arthur starts to sit up as Merlin lowers down and they just have a moment, a small second where they are both there and Merlin just rests his head against Arthur's 

“I would do it again. I would do it as many times as needed because I love you and you are my everything”

“Merlin?”

And then the light is gone, and so is Merlin 

And Uther watched as his widowed son holds his lover's body, just like he did over twenty years ago

[popr0cks]

They make me so sad oml

I started making this on mother's day, but didn't finish it til literally rn I saw it in my head so yall have to see it now enjoy it

[severus-snaps]

harry's third year headcanons - snape's pov

snape wakes up most nights with recurring nightmares about the shack, about being chased, about being caught. when he's on the brink of sleep he hears howls, and startles awake. not certain whether he's dreamt them or whether they were real, and unable to sleep anyway, he paces the corridors with his wand drawn

deepest winter, where the days are short and the nights are long, he has recurring dreams where he wakes up and goes about his day - he attends meals, he teaches, spends time in the staffroom. each night it's a new nightmare - despite the hour the werewolf is loose in the halls between classes. loose in the dining hall at breakfast. it transforms and traps him in the staffroom. it bursts through the door into his lessons. it's killed the students. blood pools on the flagstones.

he should brew dreamless sleep, but he doesn't have time. there are classes to teach, and papers to mark, classes to cover, and he makes two batches of wolfsbane at a time. despite how complex and long-winded it is to make, he checks them obsessively. they have to be perfect. he has to have a spare. he wears himself down with how often he tends them, and sleep-deprived and sick and distracted with worry already, he can't stop thinking that he's missed a step. that he's added something twice. that it won't work, and it'll be all his fault.

a girl screams in the corridor between classes. he sprints to the sound - it turns out it was nothing. she and her friends had tried a hair-growing charm, and it hadn't worked as planned. it's nothing serious. he sends her to the hospital wing but not before he docks a intentionally unfair fifty points for practicing magic in the halls, because he's sick and dizzy and his hands are sweaty and his heart is racing, and he'll stay that way for the rest of the day. worse, the students laughed behind their hands at him, at his overreaction. the students are always laughing at him now, ever since lupin's boggart lesson. he's a laughing stock.

lupin is always slow to take his potion. there's a known murderer trying to enter the castle. the murderer enters the castle, twice. he makes it as far as gryffindor tower. lupin knows something. lupin is having private meetings with potter. something is wrong, but nobody is listening. everyone, from dumbledore to lupin to the students, refuses to take him seriously. why won't anyone take him seriously.

[coralchoral]

honestly thinking about the sonadow twitter takeover and how the plummeting to earth thing very much affected Sonic a lot more than it affected Shadow. like in a previous takeover Shadow even made it a positive memory about Sonic trying to save him.

Meanwhile in Prime, Sonic has a moment of saving Shadow from falling into the void that's very reminiscent of that other fall (in the same way Prime has a lot of motivations and references that only make sense from a fandom insider perspective).

Sonic also gets repeatedly tilted, loud and anxious, (which I'm pinning more on RCS's/whatever writer's sense of humor, as is all the voice acting gags) and is coping badly any time Shadow comes out ahead. I think Sonic's insistence on his ability to grow chest fur is as big a Cope as floaties=fashion statement.

But really, Sonic's repeat date suggestions and Shadow's own descriptions of Sonic's behavior (dragging out their races, etc "just to annoy me") reads, whether romantically or platonically, that Sonic just really wants to spend time with Shadow.

He feels he needs to justify it, though, insisting that he and Shadow have something other than occasionally getting in each other's way ("two sides of the same coin") (friendly competition being "why you keep me around-" seemed like odd wording to me).

Needing to make it meaningful, because that's what Shadow wants out of a relationship- Shadow /says/ he dislikes Sonic for being frivolous and inauthentic, that (for instance) his hugs don't mean anything, and that he doesn't want "(Sonic's) kind of hug."

Sonic really wants to spend time with Shadow because he's also intimately aware that that time is limited. Either Shadow's patience (and/or social battery) is limited and he's liable to make a batman exit if he doesn't want to be somewhere (not that we've ever seen Shadow do this in canon, he seems to awkwardly/quietly hang around as if he doesn't realize he can just hit the bricks (or he likes being there and has no idea how to express it re: smiling at Big the Cat) ), Or Sonic and Shadow will get caught up in their own lives again and not see each other until Fate Deigns to Allow Them to Cross Paths Once More.

And Sonic misses him.

(This ties in with my Sonic Frontiers is the Saddest Game Ever posting from a while back, too. Sonic is lonely AF and Needs Other People to Talk To or he'll start talking to the walls and robots, and Shadow will almost always either talk back or groan in exasperation, which is as good a reaction as any.)

All this, plus Sonic's opinion flip-flops (shopping with Amy vs shopping with Shadow, opinion on Orbot) could be either (Sonadow Optimist) Sonic is Down Bad and not even conscious of his mirroring Shadow/trying to appeal to Shadow, or (Sonadow/overall Pessimist) Sonic trying to appeal to the Most Popular Character Right Now and getting increasingly desperate as he is rebuffed.

A few of these Twitter Takeovers have had moments of Sonic in particular getting thrown off and not really able to recover. (which makes me question what the writing is like, if there's any at all and these VA's aren't just riffing on an outline. Considering they don't talk over each other constantly, there must be something like a script, but it also does occasionally feel like a bad roleplay (and I've been a bad roleplayer).) It leads to a Something Is Wrong feeling in the "We're doing this for fun" question-answering joke show. Sonic needs therapy. (We all need therapy.)

Meanwhile, Shadow really is pulling out all the grunts, groans, and whines with Sonic that, if scripted, would be egregious as hell to read or write. He doesn't make these noises in the games (or shows, really?) mostly because there's a sort of efficiency necessary to production that cuts out that interpersonal realism and partly because it's annoying? Shadow, you're the annoying one?

Unrelated, everybody latched on to Sonic's "Go off, King" but nobody even noticed Shadow's "Deal With It."(sunglasses drop) How soon we forget the sacred texts and/or the deep magic, I guess? (It's an old meme, but it checks out!)

[ghost-bxrd]

i think that jason is a cat. but in a feral way. hes like the angry feral cat that likes to hang out in your backyeard and you take care of it and feed it but it wont let you get close. and then one day it lets you pet it and it trusts you

Absolutely! And you know what else cats are known for? They hide injuries. They hide when they’re not ok. That’s why it‘s such a red flag when they stop behaving the way they normally do. So yes, absolutely agree 🥺

[victorie552]

I headcannon that after 3rd Kinslaying, and especially after Elrond and Elros left them in whatever fashion, Maedhros was a total dick to Maglor.

You know how sometimes old or sick people are nice to neighbours/nurses/strangers, but are horrible to their primal caretakers? That's them.

People aren't dicks to their caretakers just to be dicks - it's because they are often frustrated with themselves or their situation and don't know how else to deal with it or they can't deal with it the usual way. It also happens because, paradoxally, they feel safe around their caretakers - you can be a dick because you know they won't leave just because of that.

And boy, did Maglor cast himself in a role of caretaker (let's not kid ourselves, he wasn't qualified, and with his own problems to boot), and BOY, did Maedhros resent him for it. He did not NEED help, he did not DESERVE help, he's not another kidnapped child MAGLOR, I'M the older brother, I should take care of YOU YOU WRECK, WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO BABYSIT YOU GROW UP ALREADY and leave me Nothing is EVER your fault, even when you left me to Angband as you should Why would you care now, it amounted to NOTHING before, it's WORTHLESS

And about half the time Maglor just takes it, actually likes it even. Mostly because of his guilt complex about how he deserves it, but also because Maedhros is only like this with him - he's trying his best to pretend to be fine and be a leader to few followers they have left, because they deserve better and that's the only thing he can give them now, and their brothers are all dead and would always be Too Little to act like that around them anyway. Maedhros would behave himself even around Fingon, to make him think rescuing him was worth something. So by being a dick to Maglor, Meadhros sees him as an equal, a safe haven. Maglor basks in that.

But obviously no one could just take such abuse like it's nothing, and Maglor is a Feanorian too, is prideful and stubborn, with his own laundry list of complains about Maedhros, and also unwell, and also thought of a new insult while lying awake at night and just wants to yell too. So half the time Maglor yells back and their yelling matches would bring orcs to tears, with hate and blame dripping from every word. I don't have enough imagination to picture it realistically, and actually I don't want to, it's too heartbreaking.

And sometimes, one or the other just starts crying. They don't talk about these times.

After some time, their arguments and insults are just a noise, something to repeat endlessly to the point of boredom.

By then, what actually hurts are the words that were not meant to harm.

Example 1:

Maedhros: 'did an all-night inspection of their stores cause he couldn't sleep' I found a herb you always liked to wash your hair with.

Maglor: 'doesn't remember last time he washed his hair, no less scented them'

Maglor: 'choked up' Appreciated.

Example 2:

Maedhros: 'feels like he's dragging Maglor to damnation with him' You could go with the twins, you know.

Maglor: 'doesn't want to upset Maedhros today so decides to pretend as if that was actually an option' Vanyar would probably like my singing but you know they would get mad at you for having better battle plans than them.

Maedhros: 'now KNOWS he's dragging Maglor to damnation with him'

Maedhros: 'dying inside' Of course they would.

When love hurts, it's easier to be a dick.

[aayakashii]

I have always watched him from afar – at least, that is how I feel.

We have infinite oceans between us, and I would have to swim across them, only to feel his skin under my fingertips. I would need to cross deep, dark waters in order to feel slightly worthy of him.

I avoid touching him at all costs; despite the agonizing itch in my hands; despite the desire to memorize the feeling of him, of his skin, of his lips; despite the need to hold him so he doesn't fall apart like a dream before my eyes; despite, despite, despite.

His voice gravely says my name with a smile, but I feel like I am underwater – I can't breathe, I can't hear you, nor can I say your name.

Yet choking, I whisper a good evening.

And then, with his honey whiskey voice, he tells me of his life, of his endless blinding future and of responsibilities I do not – I cannot understand. Because I am, truthfully, but a speck of dust, while he holds galaxies within him.

Royalty oozes from his pores, blinding me like a thousand green fireflies, and I question myself – how and where did I get the courage to love someone so desperately, in a place where even my blood is alien?

How and where did I get the courage to love someone who trudges the thin line between death and eternity with the ease of a creature who has time and life to spare, while I crumble into dust within seconds?

He smiles and bids me good night, blissfully unaware of the hours I would spend awake, forcing myself into a dream in which I could feel worthy of him.

I drown in self-pity when he's around, yet I drown in loneliness when he is gone.

When, I wonder, will he teach me how to breathe?

[annintheclouds]

Just some art I made (some are old, some are not.😅)

[initial-lime]

[justjams7787]

the amount of angst I see of these two

[dcmainlybillythoughts]

You ever go through an experience and decide that your favorite character must also go through it and feel the same gut wrenching emotions you did?

Anyways in this I will now explain why Billy Batson is freaked out by the fact that people look up to him and feels imposter syndrome about it but now instead of doing anything he bottles it up and then when he sees somebody else have the same problem he talks them through it and gives them comfort and guidance without doing anything to better himself-

[muffledexplosion162]

YES FINALLY I HAD ENOUGH MOTIVATION TO MAKE A SLIGHTLY ANGSTY ANIMATION

Augh FlipaClip watermark

[lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus]

"It would not just be a quick fuck - it would mean everything to me. If you stay... if you tell me that you love me -- Eddie, I am not that strong to resist you. You would ruin me, Eddie, in ways I cannot express.

"If you stay, you better mean it, or I will haunt you til the end of your days. I am not a game. I'm not a toy. If you stay, it will mean something, and you have to take responsibility. You had my heart, Eddie Munson, and I cannot bear having it broken again."

[nanowatzophina]

Hey, past na’no— uhm…

Idk what u were goin through when u did this but I was not okay finding it in my dragon age folder today— lol.

WHY ZEV LOOK LIKE HE’S SAYING GOODBYE???

[williambeckettfan36]

this flopped so hard on tiktok im embarrassed so im posting it here