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raewritez · 3 years

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Still

based on this request: I’m thirsty for a love triangle. Maybe Sokka and Zuko fighting for the reader’s affection. And she chooses ____!

warnings: one swear word right there ⬇️, aangst, simping

It fucking hurt.

Sure, Sokka knew Zuko was good now, and he knew that the two of you had history. But he couldn't have prepared himself for the ache that took place in his chest whenever you would choose to sit by Zuko around the campfire, when you would tease him in that playful tone of yours, when you would smile at him and it seemed like the sun beamed a bit brighter. It hurt because Sokka didn't get that anymore. Or maybe he did, but he was too blinded by jealousy to process the fact that you cared about both of them. In Sokka's mind, your gaze was always on Zuko, on his stupid fluffy hair and his oh-so-perfect stupid face. Your hand was always somewhere on him; on his arm, around his shoulder, on his face when you healed the cuts that resulted from your latest skirmish. He could only clench his jaw, standing and storming off to where he could be alone with his misery. He'd feel your eyes on him as he walked away, probably widened in confusion and your head probably tilted in that stupid, adorable way that made Sokka's heart melt every time. But he'd continue, not sparing you a glance. It's not like you cared, anyway.

You did care.

What was his problem? Things hadn't been this tense between you and Sokka since you first met, since he labeled you as the enemy and scoured you with his glares. But that was months ago. You weren't used to this standoffishness, not used to the way he'd turn on you and leave you in the dust. No, you were used to Sokka, your Sokka. The one that held you when you cried when the Earth Kingdom fell and Zuko sided with his sister, the one that teased you mercilessly with that lopsided grin of his, the one that raced you to the top of mulberry trees to see who could get the best fruit. The one that came to you when his mind was racing, face nuzzled into your neck as your fingers pulled his hair loose from his wolf-tail. That was your Sokka, not the stranger that walked away from you now.

Your concerned gaze was broken by a soft tap on your shoulder.

"Hey, you ok?"

You forced a smile, turning to Zuko. "I'm fine. Just tired. Your story put me to sleep."

He scoffed, bumping you and turning away to hide his grin. "Well, it's actually my Uncle's story. You can blame him."

"I'm sure I'd be more interested if Iroh was telling it," you grinned. "Maybe you're just a bad storyteller."

"I'm a great storyteller. You're just a bad listener."

"Mhm. Sure."

He let out a breathy chuckle, eyes darting to your face. Spirits, he'd missed you. This is what he'd longed for those three years; this closeness. Memories of his childhood ran through his mind - memories of playtime and friendship, of two best friends who had nothing to fear but curfews and monsters under the bed. Zuko had fought and struggled, had chosen right and chosen wrong, but all those choices had led him here. Back to you. And now, his body lit aflame by your touch and his heart skipping by the song of your laughter, he'd never been more certain of anything in his life.

He was thrilled to have you back, but it was different. Before, in the painted halls of the Firenation palace and under the maroon quilts of his mother's bed, he'd had you all to himself. Now, he had to share. It was strange, seeing you laugh so boisterously with Toph or hug Aang so closely, seeing you walk arm in arm with Katara as you went into town for groceries. He was in much better standing with the group now - he knew he was forgiven for his mistakes and was welcome to share in the friendship they so generously provided. He was overwhelmingly grateful, but he cherished the moments he spent with you. And they'd have been better, if not for the other boy in the group.

Zuko had no problem with Sokka. Quite the contrary, he admired him for his leadership and laughed at his jokes, and the time he spent with him was something he enjoyed. But he envied him. Zuko saw the way the Water Tribe boy looked at you; like you were the sun itself and had put all the stars in the sky just for him. He saw the fondness in the other boy's eyes when you spoke, saw the comfortability in his movements as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He had to remind himself that the two of you were close - that you'd spent months traveling together while he chased you all over the world. He'd guessed you would be close, but it seemed he'd underestimated the power of your love for your friends and this boy. Because you were brighter when he was around, eyes flickering to him as if on instinct whenever he arrived at the campsite. Your eyes grew tender and your voice soft, and Sokka's affection mirrored your own.

Your eyes locked on his, and he felt like he could drown in them forever. Your lips curved into a grin, and his worries and insecurities were washed away as quickly as they came. You stood up, offering him your hand. "Come on, let's get ready for bed."

He took it eagerly, smiling up at you in a way that made your heart warm. You reached up to ruffle his hair, skipping away and laughing at his indignant "Hey!" before he caught up to you and flicked your forehead. You swatted his hand away, glaring up at him. He only smirked before walking ahead of you.

You grabbed your bedroll, laying it out on the dusty ground. Zuko laid his close by. After putting out the fire and bidding goodnight to your friends, casting a sad look to Sokka's figure which sat idly upon the cliffside, you made your way inside and shut your eyes, Zuko not far behind.

///

Yep. Sokka was annoyed. He thought going for a walk would clear his mind, maybe preoccupy his thoughts with something other than you, but he guesses he was wrong. It was impossible when he could hear your laughter all the way from camp, no doubt directed towards the Firebender. He swallowed roughly, picking up his pace. He couldn't stand it; you and him. Sokka had no problem with Zuko. They were friends! Well, pretty much. Zuko had proved himself to be loyal, and there was no reason for him not to be trusted. He was cool - a little awkward albeit, but hey, Sokka can understand where that would come from after spending three years as an isolated, ponytail-wearing, Avatar-obsessed banished prince. He had no problem with Zuko, really. He guessed that he just...missed you.

Katara said he was jealous, something he promptly waved away, dismissing her with a wave. She'd rolled her eyes and called after him, "You can't ignore it forever, Sokka!" Ok, whatever Katara.

He was not jealous. He didn't care about the time you spent with the fire bender, or the way you seemed happier now that he was around. He didn't care that he hadn't talked to you in two days, and he definitely didn't care that your sleeping bag was sidled up cozily next to Zuko's.

"I'm so stupid," he muttered, lowering himself to the ground. He swung his legs over the cliff, feet dangling in the air. He turned his head, catching glimpse of the dying embers in the campfire, Toph's rock tent and Katara and Aang's sleeping figures, and you, asleep with your arms stretched in Zuko's direction. He held his head in his hands, sighing frustratedly. Yeah, maybe he was a little jealous. But really, why wouldn't he be? He used to sleep next to you, he was the one who made you laugh and woke you up in the middle of the night to sneak a ride on Appa. Now what? It'd been days since the two of you had a real conversation, so different from the constant chattering and jokes that had made his time saving the world so much more bearable. He missed you. So, so much. Spirits, what he would give for a day with you, the ones like you used to have. Where you would do whatever you wanted and usually end up scolded by Katara, but those were the days that made him forget the war and the reality of his unfortunate circumstances, when his heart was light and his worries quenched.

Those days meant everything to him, but he was afraid they were expendable. Because now you spent them with Zuko without so much as a glance his way. Sure, it wasn't like he was making much an effort, but still. You'd told him about Zuko; about the friend you'd lost to banishment who'd come out like his father. He'd thought you were crazy when you said with such conviction that he still had some good in him, but had comforted you nonetheless. He sat with you in his arms and told you the story of the time he got beat up by a penguin back home. He felt proud when he made you laugh.

You meant everything to him, but maybe it was different for you. He knew you loved him, although maybe not in the way he was beginning to question his own love as being, but he knew you loved him. You made sure he knew; in your smiles, in your words, in your touch. But he also knew you loved everyone else - the way you talked with his sister and softened her edges, allowing her to rest from the motherly role she put herself in and taking her under your arm instead. The way Toph latched onto you, teasing you with utter fondness and accepting your help without resistance. The absolute adoration that Aang held for you - resting his head on your shoulder and coming to you with his troubles, always searching for your guidance in his trials and relying on your strength and unwavering faith in him.

But it seemed different with Zuko. With him you were unbearably gentle, reassuring him of his value and rekindling the lost friendship of children ripped apart. It was obvious to everyone; the pure affection you held for this boy. It was obvious to Sokka, and, spirits, it stung. Because had you ever looked at him like that? Had he ever made you laugh as loudly as you did for Zuko, who was seemingly not even trying? He didn't know and it ate away at him, clawing at his chest and leaving it burning. Maybe he was in too deep now, too lost in love and bitterness to see the olive branches you offered him and the way your eyes darkened when he turned them away. It was fine. He was perfectly fine and would continue to be fine, even as Zuko's hand reached out for yours. Even as he felt you slipping away, even as he was alone. So terribly, painfully alone.

———-

part two?👀

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beclynn-herondale · 3 years

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Similarities that I see between Jace and Céline

(these are just my thoughts. Press read more to see them.)

↑ this chaotic energy. You think he got it from Stephen? Nah.

Her anxiety reminds me of Jace's. And like their thought process was similar in ways.

They both struggled with belonging.

Céline corrected Robert when he said "Just like a warlock. Always for sale."

And Céline was like "Always on sale."

Again Jace energy.

Céline knew Amatis, Stephen's wife. At least, she knew enough. Amatis was sharp-tongued and stuck up. She was opinionated, argumentative, stubborn, and not even that pretty. There were also rumors that she still secretly associated with her werewolf brother. Céline didn't much care about that—she had nothing against Downworlders. But she had plenty against Amatis, who obviously didn't appreciate what she had. Stephen needed someone who would admire him, agree with him, support him. Someone like Céline. If only she could make him see that for himself.

Jace's smile was as bland as buttered toast. "Go on, go after him. Pat his head and tell him he's still your super special little guy. Isn't that what you want to do?"

But he couldn't look at Simon without wanting to kill someone.

“And even back then, in that stupid coffee shop. When I saw you sitting on the couch with Simon, even then that felt wrong to me—i should have been the one sitting with you. The one that made you laugh like that. I couldn't get rid of that feeling. That it should have been me.”

↑ Their bitterness, anger, jealousy, and envy towards the person who had the person they wanted and in general has the same energy in my opinion.

They both were angry and jealous of people who had it better or they considered to be good—Like, that was why Jace hated Simon so much at first, because Simon was everything Jace thought he'd never get to be, he just didn't realize it.—And Céline was angry of the kids in the academy who had loving parents and good childhoods, and weren't damaged like she was—they both were angry because somebody was someone or had something they thought they'd never get to be or have. (In Céline's case she never actually got it, not really.)

They both like to wander around when upset.

They both aren't too fond of the Silent Brothers. And I think that has to do with their head being full of certain things they don't want others to know, and the Silent Brothers speak in your mind, almost like they're reading your thoughts.

They're both observant, which could be from growing up in abusive and toxic environments but could also just be they're observant people.

They both can tell when someone is off. We see this when Céline sees through Valentine's mask. Jace often saw through the lies of people in TMI and still does.

And the both hate being pitied. Like it angers them when people pity them, we see that with Jace quite often in TMI, but we see it when Dominique says this: “Every Downworlder in Paris knows about poor Céline Montclaire, wandering the city like a murderous little Éponine. We all feel a little sorry for you.”

And then Céline thought this: Céline lived with a steady, secret simmer of rage, but now she felt it boiling over.

↑ Again, the above reminds me of Jace. He lived with anger that he kept under control but would boil over when triggered.

They're both sensitive. And get hurt easily.

“I wish I could be more like you,” she admitted.

In what sense?

“You know, just shut off my feelings? Feel nothing. For anybody.”

There was a long pause, and she wondered if she had offended him. Was that even possible? Finally, his cool, steady voice spoke.

This is a wish you should dispense with. Feeling is what makes us human. Even the most difficult feelings. Perhaps especially those. Love, loss, longing—this is what it means to truly be alive.

“I think—my father was sorry he had a parabatai,” he said. “Now I have to go live with a man my father was sorry about. I don't want to be weak, I don't want to be sorry. I want to be the best.”

If you pretend to feel nothing, the pretense may become true, said Jem. That would be a pity.

↑ They both wished to feel nothing, and had Jem tell them that wasn't as great as they thought. But they both still desperately wanted to not feel.

When she was a child, her parents had often refused her iratzes after training sessions, especially when her injuries were caused by her own mistakes. Let the pain remind you to do better next time, they told her. All these years later she was still making the same mistakes.

“No! it's better for your parents not to know it happened at all. It was just bad luck that one of them got me. I'm a good fighter,” Jonathan protested sharply.

“It's my fault I got hurt,” said Jonathan. “I know excuses are for incompetents. It won't happen again.”

↑ this bit on making mistakes, or when getting hurt.

Céline always carried a misericord blade.

↑ Reminds me of someone else who always carries blades.

They both were aware of the consequences of putting a rune on someone that they weren't 100% sure were Nephilim, and it was different circumstances but they did it anyway. Jace gave Clary her first rune and Céline gave Rosemary her first rune (I think).

More furious at her own instinct for mercy. After all, her parents had never shown any to her. Her parents had done their best to teach her that mercy was weakness, and cruelty was strength.

Jonathan said the word "weakness" with horror. Jem wondered what a man who had drilled a boy to fight like that might have considered weakness.

↑ Mercy, kindness, gentleness, etc. Was taught as weakness to them both growing up.

They both hate being predictable. Kinda like when Rosemary knew Céline would keep her secret. Céline hated that she knew that. Remember in CoA when everyone was guessing that Jace said no to Valentine, and he hated it.

They both never really felt like they were ever a kid. Because again, the environment they grew up in forced them to grow up faster than they should have. Which is why Jace didn't think of himself as one when he threw himself into battle.

like Jace I don't think Céline liked to upset the balance of things, meaning they don't pry and don't pressure. Which often gets them labeled as "not too bright" or "unobservant" they're both observant, they just don't say it out-loud. Jace is definitely like this, but I see Céline as this too. Stephen said she always needed to be told what to do, but I don't think it was that exactly, I think she just didn't like to upset things. Which growing up in an abusive and toxic environment does that. But I think it's also just part of who they are.

That sweet and obedient daughter of the provençal countryside. They knew how devoted she was to her parents. Such a dutiful daughter.

↑ Valentine often called Jace his obedient son. I see Jace in this part as well. Sebastian called him Valentine's "sweet boy."

She could close the door on the past, start again. She could choose a life without pain, without suffering or fear.

But who would she be without pain?

This also reminds me of Jace. Obviously he did end up choosing to walk away from Valentine. But there are times he doubted, because in reality he himself didn't know who he was without the pain he'd experienced, without his past with Valentine. And they both believed that the pain and suffering had made them stronger. Jace later knows that isn't true, but I see the similarity there.

They're both said to have vulnerability about them that made you wan to protect them. To keep them safe. Jocelyn said you couldn't really hate Céline, and I think it's kinda the same with Jace.

Both of them refused to ask for help. Thinking they could do it all on their own.

Céline could tell how much it hurt—and how determined the woman was to reveal no pain. She knelt by her side. Rosemary flinched away. “Let me see—I can help."

“Tell me what happened first.” She tried to yank her wrist back, but his grip was incredibly strong. “I can help you.” — this is in Clary's pov.

↑ Their willingness to help the pretty stranger they didn't know.

They both often felt they didn't have a choice in some things.

They both felt achingly alone at some point. And very much misunderstood.

The thought of losing the only family they ever had scared them, and they were willing to do anything to keep them. Even if in Céline's case hers wasn't that real.

They were both said to be beautiful, and breakable. Fragile almost. These were Jocelyn's words. That beautiful things were easily broken.

They both grew up denied of love and care.

Céline had low self esteem in a lot of areas. We often see Jace as the confident character who doesn't have insecurities or low self-esteem. but he does. Jace didn't like himself, his looks don't play a part here, he didn't like himself. He actually didn't feel good enough or worth much, that's why he made so many superiority jokes, because he truly didn't feel good enough but had to make everyone believe he did. Céline didn't feel good enough either, but she tried not to let it show.

Their childhood gave them bad coping mechanisms and suicidal tendencies. They both self harmed in ways, believing that pain made you stronger is one of them.

We often look over the fact that while some of Jace's mental struggles did come from the trauma of his childhood and growing up around war, that he was already at a high risk with a mother who experienced similar things. Because if you have a parent who has mental illness the offspring are at higher risk of developing one. And his childhood didn't help with that.

And we know what they both truly wanted was to be loved and safe. Really. Jace always thought he wanted to fight all the time, but by the end of tmi he realized he just truly wanted to be happy and left alone, he just wanted Clary and his family. Céline wanted that too, but she never got it.

You all realize they would understand each other, right? Like if Cassie ever did something where they somehow met, Céline would understand Jace and he would understand her.

Céline would have never raised Jace with anything but love and care. She would have made sure he never knew a childhood like hers. But he did. He ended up knowing what that was like. And it would have broken her even more to know that.

But she would probably stab Valentine in the face, which I'd like to see.

Friendly reminder that Jace looks like her around the eyes (no I won't shut up about this.)

There's probably more but until we learn more we won't know. Just remember he may be a Herondale but Céline is also there.

@khaleesiofalicante I tagged you 😎

#celine montclaire #celine herondale #jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #tsc #the shadowhuter chronicles #tst #the secret treasons

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jrmytxt · 3 years

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(Never) Enough

Characters: Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric (Mentioned), Winry Rockbell (Mentioned), Pinako Rockbell (Mentioned), Mei Chang (Mentioned)

Relationship: Edward Erlic & Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell & Alphonse Elric, Pinako Rockbell & Alphonse Elric

Summary: Fullmetal Alchemist here, Edward Elric there. It was always about Edward, and Alphonse couldn't help but feel left behind.

Trigger Warnings: Self Deprecation, Self Worth Issues

Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 1052

Read on Ao3

To Alphonse Edward was the greatest person in the world. His older brother was strong, determined, and loyal. No matter what, he always looked out for him, he would always put Alphonse first. His selflessness was a feat he truly admired. To him, Edward was a hero. And to a lot of other people as well.

Fullmetal Alchemist here, Edward Elric there. Wherever they went they got recognized, and whenever they got recognized people fawned over Edward. At first Al had found it just very weird, to have so many people know their names, to have people proclaiming themselves to be their biggest fans. They were still just kids after all. The only girl Ed ever showed interest in was Winry, and now he had all of these other teens fawning over him, throwing themselves at him, claiming to be his future wife. It was strange, no doubt. Though Alphonse's confusion soon turned to fondness. And then to envy. Or was it jealousy? He wasn't sure.

It was always about Edward. Maybe sometimes they were known as "The Elric Brothers" but in the end it was still Ed who got the most attention. For the longest time Al tried to not let it get to him. To be quiet about it and let his brother have that fame. He was older. He was a hero. And everything in Edward's world revolved around him, so the entire world was allowed to revolve around Ed for once. But it still stung, to get confused for his brother and then promptly cast aside once it was clear that he wasn't, to always just be known as the sidekick, the background character, the weak one.

He wasn't weak! He was strong, he could do alchemy well, and hell, he could be a state alchemist if he really tried! He knew he could! But... he didn't try. He wasn't really sure why he never did, maybe it was the nagging feeling of fear. That little nugget of not being good enough. Or maybe he wanted Ed to have this. Being the one that everyone knew the name of. Whatever it was, it would have kept him awake at night had it not been for the fact that he didn't need to sleep. But because he didn't need to sleep he had all the time in the world to think and consider, go through all the possibilities, plan and then cancel all of it in the same breath. It was a strange way of catharsis and in the morning he oftentimes felt just a bit better. Except he didn't. He had just gotten good at hiding it. No reason to worry anyone when there were more important things happening right now.

Though some nights he never got farther than 'I want to be noticed'. His thoughts would keep looping on those words over and over again, replaying scenarios too many times to count, shedding tears that never materialized. The urge to cry was so strong in those nights and yet he never could. It never worked. He wasn't human anymore, he didn't have tear ducts. He was nothing more than a soul in a shell. A shell he loathed more than anything. A body that couldn't feel, a heart that didn't beat, a brain that never thought. If he didn't know any better he'd almost think he wasn't real. But he had already been down that rabbit hole once, no need to go there again. If he did... who knew if he would lose his trust in Edward again, and that would be catastrophic. He couldn't, not right now.

Edward cared so much about him. More than about anyone or anything else. So much it hurt sometimes. And every time he reminded himself of how much Ed cared he felt horrible for being so selfish. For wanting more than he had. For wanting attention, love, worry from other people. Because he had his brother and that should be enough. But it never was and he hated himself for it. So he pushed the feeling down. Deep deep down, buried it. There would be time to revisit it when they had their old bodies back. Maybe then people would love him for who he was.

Mei Chang adored him but it didn't feel real. She didn't love <i>him</i> she loved the <i>idea</i> of him. Some idealized version she'd made up in her mind that he would never live up to. Not to mention that she was a kid and so was he. How could he ever be a noble hero of a prince? He was a kid. Mei and him were both kids. They were kids... Her love wasn't real, and while he enjoyed the attention, it hurt him just the same. Knowing it was all made up, knowing he would not be good enough if it was just him.

And then he remembers his family. His mother, Pinako, Winry... He remembers Mustang and Hawkeye. Major Armstrong and even Mr. Hughes... Mr. Hughes who had cared about them so much, who died because of them. And most of all he remembers Ed. His brother, his hero, who would do anything for him. And maybe he wasn't so alone. Maybe there were people that cared about him. That liked him for who he was.

When they were younger, Winry had often come to sit with him at night. Keep him company until Pinako ushered her to bed. And then Pinako would sit with him instead. "I am old, I have slept enough to last me 'til the end of my life" she often claimed, with that smile only a mother had. The knowing look she gave him, he could see the compassion in her eyes. It was sweet. Major Armstrong who always tried to check in with them, who wanted to keep them safe no matter what. Riza Hawkeye who would have given her life for him. His brother, who checked with him no matter what. Who reminded him that he was still a person, who would make jokes just to cheer him up. Whose biggest request in life was for them to be happy. And while the thought hurt just a bit, it brought him comfort all the same.

People cared about him. He wasn't alone. He was enough.

#txt #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma #alphonse elric #My writing #edward elric #winry rockbell

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language-rxgers · 6 years

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Best Boyfriend You’ve Never Had (Bucky x Reader)- Part 9

Summary: The wedding day is finally here! You and Bucky share a moment which doesn’t end up meaning what you hoped it would.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader, OFC Catherine, OMC Thomas, OMC Jesse, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, OMC Ryan

Warnings: Slight angst, self-deprecating thoughts

Word Count: 2382

A/N: I am so sorry for the wait, but here it is! This is a kind of build up chapter for the angst coming up ahead! Thank you for your patience, lovelies!

Masterlist

Part 8 (Previous) / Part 10

You adjusted your dress nervously before looping your arm through that of Jesse, Thomas’ younger brother and one of the groomsmen. He gave you a nod and a smile, which you returned. “You look beautiful, (Y/N),” Jesse commented. “Buckaroo won’t be able to take his eyes off of you the whole ceremony.” Your cheeks grew warm and you thanked him quietly. Your fingers shifted nervously around the bouquet you were holding, waiting for the music to start. You looked over your shoulder at Catherine, who was absolutely gorgeous as she stood behind the bridal party, arm in arm with your parents and positively beaming under her veil. You winked at her and turned back around to look through the doors ahead of you, trying to find Bucky amongst the waiting guests. Your eyes finally fell on a head of long dark locks of hair, gently swept over a set of broad shoulders. Just seeing him settled you a little, and you took a deep breath.

(don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip-)

Your repeated mantra was cut off as the delicate harp began playing softly, cueing the bridal party to begin its trek down the center aisle of the church. Your sister had found a harpist to play at the ceremony, which you’d at first laughed at as being extra, but now as you walked steadily down the burgundy carpet to the front of the church, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect instrument to serenade your sister’s big day. As you passed Bucky’s pew, his steel blue eyes met your own with a gentle yet complete sincerity. His expression softened as he saw you, and you gave him a small smile before continuing on.

The ceremony, however long, was lovely. As your sister exchanged her vows with the love of her life, you met Bucky’s eyes once more from where you were standing with the other bridesmaids behind Catherine. He made a goofy face, and you rolled your eyes, smiling and shaking your head. “Meatball,” you mouthed to him, and he laughed silently, bowing his head low to hide his contagious smile. He looked back up and winked at you, and you averted your gaze back to your sister to hide the flustered heat rising in your cheeks.

After your sister and Thomas signed their marriage license and returned to their position in front of the altar, the priest smiled warmly. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” You began to clap along with the rest of the guests as Catherine placed her left hand on her husband’s cheek, her wedding ring glinting in the soft daylight rays filtering through the church’s windows as they met in their first kiss as husband and wife. Thomas placed his hands around her back, holding her tightly to him, and you felt your chest constrict at the sudden burst of want for Bucky to hold you as dearly as Thomas held your sister. You bit your lip and forced a proud smile to spread across your cheeks. You watched as the very thing you wanted most, happen before your very eyes for another couple, and you scolded yourself for being so selfish. How could you have the audacity to watch the happiest day of your sister’s life with such envy? Such a pure, blindingly opaque need for it to be you standing there in that beautiful white dress, for it to be Bucky holding you to him so dearly, as if he was incapable of letting go, for it to be the two of you living out your happily ever after. You briefly shut your eyes in shame before collecting yourself and forcing out an excited laugh for the happy couple.

As Catherine and Thomas walked down the aisle past the cheering and applauding crowd, you quietly followed suit with the rest of the bridal party. You cleared your throat and grinned so hard it was nearly painful. You walked past Bucky, who was standing facing the aisle and clapping, looking so goddamn perfect that it nearly snapped you entirely out of this ridiculous utopia you’d created in your head. How the hell could you have seriously thought you would ever get your happily ever after with him? Magic may be real, but you weren’t that lucky. It was almost childish to even believe it was a possibility that you might have a place reserved in Bucky’s own happily ever after.

Jesus, all this talk about fairy tale endings and true love had you sick to your stomach. Was this love? You’d been trained on the belief that love was for children, that happily ever after was a bedtime story told to protect little girls from the horrors that real life had in store for them. Were you really so naïve that you still thought it was real?

(get a grip, (y/n), you’re not that special)

Happy endings are for people most deserving of them, and you weren’t even an ink blot on that list, not when Bucky was at the top.

You hadn’t even realized you were outside of the church until you felt a warm hand fall on your shoulder. You quickly brightened up your expression and turned to meet clear icy blue eyes and dark eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “Hey, you okay? Catherine and Thomas are over there greeting guests.” He nodded to the crowd behind him. You blinked.

“Oh, right. Uh, yeah, I was just wanting to, um, call Nat and let her know everything went well. She’s always a cynic about weddings; watches too many drama shows and thinks every wedding ends with someone being left at the altar… and whatnot…” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah, sounds like her. You want me to stay with you?” You shook your head, smiling plainly. “Alright, then tell ‘er I say hi, yeah? I’ll just be over there,” he hooked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the entrance of the church a few feet away. You nodded and pulled your phone out of the pocket in your dress, hidden among the flowing chiffon fabric. You dialed Nat’s number. She answered on the second ring.

“(Y/N), what’s up?” Nat answered.

“Nat, hey, uh the wedding just finished, just wanted to let you know there were no runaways,” you said lamely. Nat gave a dismissive grunt.

“Ah, real weddings are so boring. But really, congratulations, that’s great.” She cleared her throat. “So, any progressive news with bolts-for-brains?” You had been calling her nearly every other night to update her on things with Bucky since you’d been in town.

“Ha, no Nat. You know, I think this was dumb, me thinking it was anything more. I mean, really, he was just being a good friend. I think I was just over analyzing things, but it’s fine. I’m not upset about it.”

Nat was quiet for a moment. “But, the way he was acting-“

“Exactly. Acting. This whole damn trip was an act, that was the point! I just let myself get in my own head, but I’m not gonna let it get any further, and I’m not gonna let it ruin the rest of the night. I’m just going to enjoy this wedding with my best friend-“

“Second best friend!” You heard Sam cut in. Was this on speaker?

“- and have a nice night. Hi Sam,” you added. “Is Wanda there too?”

“Yes, I’m here. (Y/N), you have to call us tomorrow to fill us in on the rest of the night, alright? And don’t dismiss Bucky’s feelings so soon, you never know what’s going on in his head. Just keep up with the ruse and see what happens tonight,” she said gently. You agreed, bidding goodbye to the trio before hanging up. You held the phone to your forehead, eyes closed as you got a hold of yourself. You took a deep breath.

(alright, (y/n), stop being so selfish. this is catie’s big day and you’re gonna be there for her. you’re a big girl, you can push aside your own problems for a night)

You nodded assuredly before turning swiftly on your heel and joining Bucky at the church entrance. “All’s good back there?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a quick smile. Bucky gave you a weird look. “You okay, (Y/N)? You seem a little…”

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine, just a little tired. All that standing, you know…” Bucky rolled his eyes teasingly.

“Ah yes, God knows how exhausting it is to stand.” He joked before going serious. “But really, we can stop by your folks’ place and you can take a nap if you need before the reception. It’s not for another few hours.” Your throat tightened at his concern, but you shook it off.

“No, I’m fine, just tired and need a pick-me-up. I’ve got a change of clothes in the car, wanna go for food and drinks at the bar down the street?”

Bucky gave you a fond smile. “Yeah, I’d love that.” He watched you as if thinking deeply before his eyes flashed over your shoulder, a tense and indiscernible expression flickering within the icy blue orbs. He then suddenly took a step towards you, leaning dangerously close to you. You could feel your face growing hot and you tried to take steady breaths to conceal how flustered you were becoming.

Bucky’s eyes flicked back over your shoulder again before returning to you, lips adorned with an admiring smile. “Just go with this,” he whispered, lips still turned up, his smile almost absent-minded.

“What?” Just looking at his smile made the corners of your own lips turn up in a like- if not confused- manner. The soldier’s eyes flickered up behind you once more and you began to turn to see just what the hell was so troubling to him. Bucky quickly “D-Don’t look, just, uh,” Bucky licked his lips nervously. “Just trust me, alright?” You nodded, and he took yet another step closer. His left hand slipped around your waist to rest on the small of your back while his left cupped just under your ear, then he leaned in, his soft lips brushing against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat at the blend of surprise and excitement that bubbled in your chest at the feel of Bucky’s lips against yours again. You hadn’t really kissed since the first night in your bedroom, really just light cheek pecks here and there in front of your family. However, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a flare of hope rise in your stomach every time Bucky came in to kiss you goodnight before going upstairs after late night visits with your sister and Thomas. Now that he was actually kissing you again, it all came back to you, just like that first night. The faint smell of his aftershave, the slightly dry yet soft texture of his lips moving against your own, his gentle breath fanning over your cheeks as he pulled back to rest his forehead on your own.

You bit your lip to hide your giddy smile. What did this mean? Why did he just kiss you? Was there a reason? Did he just feel like it? Was he just being really good at playing boyfriend? Did he mean it? Your mind was racing with rapid fire thoughts as you tried to calm your heart beat. Did he actually like you back? Was this his way of telling you? He usually only kissed you when there was someone around, someone to show that you were “together”, or whatever. But here, now, there was not a reason in your mind why he would ever need to kiss you for anything other than his own want. You felt your lips tug back in a grin. Maybe this was it? Maybe he was finally going to-

“Ryan was behind you, creep was starin’ after you like he still deserved you. Hope you didn’t mind.” Your heart plummeted thirty stories, dragging your stomach with it. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, God, how could you think he actually liked you as something more than a friend?

(stop being so dramatic, (Y/N), this isn’t some goddamn movie)

“O-oh, right. Thanks, that probably scared him off…” you muttered, opening your eyes. You stepped back, pulling out of Bucky’s warm embrace. Your eyes searched for any excuse not to have to meet his gaze, and you found your saviour. Catherine caught your eye as you scanned past where the guests were greeting the happy couple and giving their well wishes. She grinned, waving you over with one hand as the other gripped Thomas’ firmly. You smiled back. “Uh, I should probably go say hi to Catie, see if she needs anything.” You finally met Bucky’s eyes again, giving him what you hoped was a light smile before walking off to meet your sister.

“(Y/N)...” Bucky muttered, turning around to watch after you as you left his side. As you walked, you missed the way he swallowed thickly, fingers hovering over his lips briefly before he ran a hand through his hair. “Idiot,” he whispered to himself, grimacing in frustration. Why did he say that? It wasn’t true; Ryan was nowhere to be seen, but in that moment, looking into your gorgeous eyes, Bucky couldn’t do a damn thing to stop himself from kissing you. The only premeditated reason he could think of to explain such an action was to scare off Ryan, and so he ran with it. But seeing the disappointment flicker in your previously shining eyes after he opened his big mouth brought him halting to a stop. Had you wanted to kiss him as much as he had you? Had you kissed him back on the assumption that he’d finally expressed his feelings for you, and you were returning them, or had you simply played along, believing it was part of your act? All he knew, as he watched your retreating form, was that he had seen your face slightly falter after his excuse, and now he was standing alone, wishing the only thing he’d said to you was what he’d expressed in that kiss.

Idiot.

Part 8 (Previous) / Part 10

A/N: Argh this is so freaking late I am so so sorry my sweet cinnamon rolls for the wait!!

Tags- let me know if you’d like to be added either to this story or to all my future updates! Requests are also very welcome!

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earthendandinbetween · 3 years

Text

Squares.

Yeah.

“Hey, why do you keep some of this stuff around, anyways?”

Gong hummed softly, listening to the shuffling of his items from behind. As much as he had told the dekapon not to touch his things too much while visiting his makeshift home, the zigoton quickly learned that he wasn’t going to listen to that. The general would simply have to reorganize the haphazardly tossed about things at a later time.

Turning slightly to eye what the akumapon was questioning, Gong noted the old, yellowed papers in his hands.

“Those are old letters I’ve kept from older zigotons I used to train,” He stated plainly, “I’m quite fond of them.”

“Yeah I get that they’re letters,” Kuwagattan squinted at the faded paper, stretching it a little more than the tateton was comfortable with, “But they’re barely legible anymore, why do you want this? You always talk big about clutter.”

“Because,” The general snapped very slightly, taking the papers from the other’s grasp to place back on a shelf, “I know what they still say, and these are incredibly sentimental to me. I’m sure you have things of value to you, that you wouldn’t want to have messed with either.”

“Uhhh,” With a squint, the akumapon only offered a shrug, “Not really, no. It’s just...Stuff.”

“Really, now?” Gong arched his brow a bit, “What about your beloved hammer? You wouldn’t care if something happened to it?”

It was silent for a moment or two as the dekapon offered a slight ‘frown’ in response, muttering a quick ‘alright, I’ll be more careful’ as he continued to rummage through the various items and notes. The tateton supposed that making a mess was not apart of ‘being more careful’. As long as nothing got broken, he guessed…

“I didn’t know you had this!” Kuwagattan’s voice was very notably in a different part of the room at this point, prompting the general to cease reading over battle plans for a moment, “You have this thing and you don’t even use it? When did you get a hold of it?”

Gong glanced towards the item hung up on the wall that the akumapon was entranced with. Ah. His old ….err… Not really his, but the archfiends’ mask. The dekapon had not been there for his brief, yet troubling run-in with becoming Ravenous. Only fair that he would see an uberhero’s mask and not much else.

“Ah please refrain from---,” He held the akumapon’s wrist firmly away from touching the mask, “Touching that, thank you. It’s...fair too dangerous for me to let anyone else get their hands on it.”

“...So if it’s so powerful and uh ‘dangerous’, “Kuwagattan rolled his eye, “Why aren’t you using it for yourself?”

“I don’t need to fall victim into the archfiends hands again,” It was a blunt way of going about it, but...Well, it was also the easiest way to explain such, “I only keep it to keep others safe and as a reminder not to let my hubris get the best of me again. Those masks--- they alter one far too much. Drives them out of their own minds.”

The two settled into a quiet moment in the conversation, with the dekapon still looking up to the mask, though now his expression was more of confusion than of envy or excitement. He just hoped that meant the words had sunk in.

“And you just--” Kuwagattan paused, “Deal with that? I mean-- Keeping that reminder around?”

“I don’t see what else I’m supposed to do,” Gong stretched, moving back to revising one of the many blueprints he had been handed, “It’s simply a new lesson to learn, after all. No real harm came to me.”

“...Huh,” The dekapon seemed to deflate slightly in his demeanor, “This kinda stuff seems easy for you.”

“Believe me, that’s merely a facade,” The tateton chuckled, “Once you’ve been a general for so long, and once you’ve seen so much, you just let go of anything out of your control.”

“...You’re strange.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” With a chuckle, he adjusted more comfortably, “May I get back to my job, now?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kuwagattan responded with a snort, digging through yet another pile of pictures and papers, “Don’t let me hold you up with my prying.”

“It’s a little hard to focus,” Gong joked softly, “With you rummaging through my things.”

“Eh,” The dekapon seemed unphased, “You let me in here.”

He offered an amused hum, writing down a few notes to go over later when he next met up with Spiderton. They’d have to have a conversation about his late night plannings. The amount of incorrect math…

The room had gone quiet at last, bringing a relief for his focus and yet...Also a slight worry or confusion on just what the other party could be doing. Kuwagattan was not known for being quiet nor well behaved around others. The tateton almost worried an incoming prank or flurry of seven different questions on the next item he would pull out.

Several minutes was quite a lot without the akumapon making much noise. It was enough to gain Gong’s attention once more, glancing upwards from his blueprint to see what had the dekapon’s attention.

It didn’t seem like anything too out of the ordinary to silence him, just a few old photos and letters. He had made plenty of comments on them earlier.

“What’s got you so quiet?” He prodded in a joking fashion, “Reading something particularly interesting?”

“Uh? Oh uh,” Kuwagattan ‘smiled’ almost nervously, “No, it’s just crazy that you kept all this. I’ve uh---well I’ve never trained anyone, not formally at least. Do they usually write notes like this?”

“It’s a common practice, yes,” The general ‘smiled’ back, “It’s always nice to receive these notes after their training. It’s quite good for one’s pride.”

“Huh,” The akumapon lowered his shoulders, “Everyone always seems to really like you.”

“You say that like you’re not well liked.”

“Pft,” With a roll of his eyes, Kuwagattan gave a shrug, “Honestly? I don’t think anyone in zigoton territory really acknowledged me as anything but some muscle.”

“I always quite liked you.”

“Yeah, that’s different! Shut up,” The akumapon visibly flustered, “I just-- I’m a little envious is all. You have all this respect and well-- I got told not to jeopardize missions.”

“Well, were you told that for a good reason?”

“...Ugh.”

Gong took a step forwards, sitting beside the dekapon with a sigh, “The hideout truly does admire your help, you know? It’s just a lot to adjust to, with the situation and all.”

“I guess so.”

“Do you really envy me that much?”

“Well! No, not you in specific, don’t get your head in the clouds.”

“You just wish to have a high amount of power and respect, I know this,” The tateton yawned, “But power and respect isn’t everything.”

“Uh-huh, so you’ve said,” He ignored the eyeroll sent his way, “Got any other ridiculous things to say?”

“Hmm, I think I’ve got one more.”

The akumapon general motioned with a roll of his eye once more, “Go on then.”

“I love you,” Gong snickered at the tensing of the other, “And as much as I value all these things I have, I value these moments far more.”

#Writings (oneshots)#Wise General (Gong)#Stubborn Beetle (Kuwagattan)

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