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#long limbs and frozen swims

steddio · 1 year

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Eddie finding Steve asleep sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the popcorn in the microwave, while the party are playing D&D. Eddie gently waking him up, accidentally letting some of his endearment show when he calls him angel and tells him to go get some sleep, that Eddie got it from here.

(I wrote a short little ficlet for this, I hope that's ok!)

“Alright! Enough!” Eddie tries and fails to be heard over the ruckus of seven teenagers each trying to get out of doing a task.

“Shut up!!!” he finally gets out at a register that demands attention. He is the DM after all, and a part of him preens at the way their startled, open-mouthed faces all turn toward him expectantly.

“I, your benevolent leader, will go refill the snacks,” he offers magnanimously. “While you all,” and this he punctuates with a sweeping gesture, “figure out how you’re going to get out of this dungeon without attracting the attention of Ezrog the Goblin King.”

There’s a new round of squabbling at that, Mike and Dustin convinced that they should take the west stairwell (a trap) while Gareth and Lucas arguing that they should swim out through the underground river (a good idea, Eddie begrudgingly admits).

He grabs the candy wrappers and empty soda cans within his reach and ascends the stairs from the Wheelers’ basement. He follows the scent of popcorn and a profoundly irritating beeping noise to the kitchen where he finds Steve perched on a barstool, slumped over the kitchen counter, fast asleep.

Eddie suddenly feels breathless. He’s never seen Steve so peaceful, so vulnerable. His hair is sticking up at all angles, he’s snoring slightly, and is that— it certainly is, there’s a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth. The permanent furrow between his brows is relaxed in sleep, although the dark circles under his eyes are still noticeable. Eddie knows Steve hasn’t been sleeping well. None of them have, still unable to feel truly safe.

Eddie tiptoes around Steve, careful not to wake him, and finds a cooling bag of popcorn in the microwave. Something clenches in Eddie’s chest. He hadn’t even heard Steve arrive, but here he is preparing snacks, taking care of them like always.

As quietly as possible, he takes the popcorn out of the microwave to stop that infernal beeping (how Steve is able to sleep through it is beyond him) and pours the popcorn into a bowl, grabs a few other things from the cabinet, and organizes them on the counter. He leans over toward Steve, as close as he dares, fingers ghosting over Steve’s hair, his cheek, admiring his long lashes and the freckles that dust his skin. He settles for gently grasping Steve’s shoulder.

“Steve, wake up,” he whispers. Steve mumbles something and then buries his face in the crook of his arm. Eddie can’t stop himself from reaching out and touching Steve’s hair, his heart bursting with fondness.

“Angel, you can’t sleep here, you’ll hurt your back,” he whispers slightly louder. Immediately he realizes what he let slip and waits, frozen, for Steve’s reaction. But Steve just grunts, and doesn’t move.

“Steve, man, c’mon,” Eddie tries again, and this time Steve lifts his head and looks at Eddie blearily.

“Wha-“ he gets out, looking adorably confused.

“You fell asleep in the kitchen,” Eddie can’t help but smile. “Come on, let’s get you over to the couch. You can nap there. The heathens and I still have quite a bit longer in the campaign, plenty of time for you to get some rest.”

Eddie helps (well, more like manhandles) Steve over to the living room couch, thrilling at the way Steve’s body is pressed to his side, loose-limbed and uncareful. Steve drops to the couch and is immediately asleep again, sprawled on his back, looking every bit the teenager he is. Eddie forgets that Steve is only 19, with how much he’s seen and done. But here, at rest, he is young, pure, holy. Eddie’s savior in more ways than one. He grabs a blanket off the armchair and spreads it over Steve, tucking it in on the sides. Stoops down in a semblance of a forehead kiss, just breathing in the scent of Steve’s hair, relishing a stolen moment of closeness.

“Sleep tight, angel.”

Three days later, Eddie finds himself in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW, bickering, as usual, about music. He finds a sick sense of joy in being able to go toe-to-toe against Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, even if it’s about something innocuous, like the merits (or complete lack thereof) of Steve’s favorite band.

“Listen, Harrington, listen!” Eddie is getting into it now, feeling himself metaphorically jumping on top of his cafeteria table pedestal. “Wham! is the devil’s music! It’s demonic, only hellspawn can listen to that shit without their ears bleeding.”

Steve glares at him for a brief moment, before his expression fades into a cocky smirk. “Hellspawn?” He meets Eddie’s eyes. “I thought I was an angel.”

#thank you this was so fun to write!#I hope I did your (excellent) idea justice #steddie #stranger things #steddie ficlet #A answers #A writes #I procrastinated on my dissertation to write this and it was so worth it #angel is my favorite pet name for steve #also any excuse to mention that steve listens to wham and i will take it

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months

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Hello again frien! Mini request here!

So MC and M6 goes to a pool party then MC gets either pushed in or trips in the pool, and Oh no! They can't swim, Oh no! They are Drowning, and Oh no they are sinking!

The Arcana Mini-HCs: When MC can't swim and falls in a pool

Julian: yanks you out of the water, long limbs flailing, and stays on task until he sees you breathe. then the dramatics begin, where he holds your head in his lap and insists that you need mouth-to-mouth

Asra: just like the cave: frozen with fear for a split-second, before diving in and pulling you out as fast as they possibly can. he's able to calm down after hearing your heartbeat, starts teaching you to swim

Nadia: horrified that she even brought you to the vicinity of a pool without checking if you could swim first. pulls you out quickly, keeps you by her side for the rest of the party so you can't fall in again

Muriel: yanks you out by the scruff of your shirt like you're some kind of kitten, holds you protectively to his chest on instinct and then gets conflicted about whether he should put you down or hold onto you

Portia: pulls you to the shallow end, checks you over to make sure you're okay, and then scolds you for scaring her. makes up for it by telling an embarrassing childhood story about learning to swim

Lucio: drags you out on instinct, gives you a big, sloppy kiss because he's panicking and he thinks that's what he's supposed to do, and then interrogates you in disbelief that you don't know how to swim??

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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kometqh · 5 months

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𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 (fem reader) 𝟗.𝟕𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐢𝐭, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲, 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

As the words leap off the tip of my tongue, I freeze. Time stills, and all that I can hear and feel is the hurried beat of my heart. The tips of my fingers begin to prick, just like on that day.

I'm taken back to an icy, cold, windy day. Some of the water at the harbour had frozen over, large shards of ice hitting against the wooden structure. We were carrying large nets filled with all kinds of creatures; fish, crab, lobster, abalone, the whole lot. The children would often come to help out, as the work was long, tiring and difficult, stretching out until it became pitch black outside.

Me and Annie had been helping my mother out with carrying the nets, as she had been pregnant back then, her stomach too large to let her do anything but sit and debone the fish, or pack it away into freezing boxes that were to be transported straight to the Capitol.

On that day, the excess water that had been brought by the creatures had dripped heavily onto the wooden flooring, freezing over. Everyone was aware of it, some going out of their way to warn the others. I listened, focusing on the floor beneath my feet. It creaked heavily, and Annie had to catch me by my arm a couple of times.

I remember it like it was just yesterday; the water was scalding cold.

It pricked at my skin with invisible nails, burning every inch of it through my coat. The water had instantly gotten through my throat, and then it began to freeze my lungs over. My hands felt like burning icicles, but I did my best to swim my way up, panicking for air. Gurgled screams escaped my throat.

I didn't swim for long enough, as my limbs began to become numb. I had ceased all of my movement, convinced that I was gonna to die. Feeling too worn out to continue swimming, even though just a mere moment ago I was ferociously fighting for my life.

The cold was engulfing me like a spikey blanket, wrapping around every crevice of my body as my lungs sputtered out water, though more replaced it in mere seconds. My entire body kept twitching, but the icy water kept burning me.

My body began to slowly sink, exhaustion taking over as I inched further down, surrounded by darkness.

Then, in the far distance, I saw it. The splash.

I saw it from the corner of my eye, a figure swimming towards me. At first it was just a blur of bronze, but then it became slightly clearer. Arms extended, it reached out to grab a hold of my hand and pulled, and I floated up after it towards the surface, arms latched loosely around his neck. My eyes slowly closed, too exhausted to stay awake.

I don't remember anything after that. All I know is that it hurt, and I almost died. I struggled to walk for a while, the stinging pain reappearing from time to time.

That's how I felt in this moment; legs frozen, heart pounding violently, lungs burning. I guess it took me too long to keep moving, as I quickly felt a pair of hands harshly grab my arms from each side, ushering me up and onto the stage.

"Wonderful!" Sylvia Borgnino exclaims, reaching her pointy gloved fingers towards me. "What is your name darling?" She asks in a heavy accent, her breath lightly fanning over my face as she leans in close. I clear my throat, looking between her own honey-brown eyes and the audience. "Y-Y/n..." I stutter, feeling my hands tremble.

"Y/n?" Sylvia asks, her eyebrows raised questioningly, nudging me on.

"Y/n Montford." I finish quietly, my throat has dried up, my voice coming out croaky and timid. I look around, noticing the shocked faces of the people around me. Some of our school friends have taken Annie to the side, consoling her with hugs as they all solemnly stared at me.

Suddenly I feel a light squeeze on my forearm, and look up to see Sylvia looking at me gleefully. "Our most recent tribute in District 4! Let's give her a round of applause, everyone!" She excitedly speaks into the microphone, clapping her gloved hands. Some people in the audience join, not out of excitement or joy, but rather out of respect. Or so I assume. I wouldn't know.

Clearing her throat, Sylvia begins, "Thank you! Now, onto the male tributes." She says gleefully, stepping over to the other glass bowl, repeating the same actions before dipping her hand in, fishing around for that one piece of paper. Once she found it, she walked back over to the podium, leaning over slightly. "And the male tribute from District 4 is... Beau Murland! A round of applause for him, everyone!" She shouts excitedly, clapping her hands once again.

Some people form an empty circle around a young boy, he must be no older than 14. He was stuck in place, his wide, innocent eyes staring ahead at the stage. Someone in the crowd poked him, fishing him out of whatever trance he put himself into. With small, timid steps, he made his way over to the stage, hugging himself.

Now that he was closer, I could see his features clearer. He had big, bright blue eyes that stared into your soul, soft wavy caramel hair, and sun-kissed skin. He just barely reached the height of my shoulder. He looked skinny and frail, like he barely ate. Sylvia quickly begins asking for any tributes, but no one speaks up. The mayor quickly takes over, beginning to speak out a memorised essay on the Treaty of Treason, as he does every year. It goes by quickly, and before I know it, me and the boy are being asked to shake hands, before the national anthem begins to play. From there, we're escorted by peacekeepers into the Justice Building, led to separate rooms before the doors are closed on me.

I sighed loudly, the initial shock having washed away like a morning breeze. I turned away from the door, and was welcomed by a grand, red room. The windowsills seemed to be lined with gold, glazing lazily in the sunlight that streamed through. There were curtains that extended all the way to the ceiling, probably made of some expensive material. In the middle of the room there was a couch and two armchairs, a coffee table separating all three. Further down, against a wall, a big chimney rested, but there was no fire crackling.

I seat myself down in the middle of the couch, gasping quietly at the sheer softness of it. To be honest, I have never felt such luxury. What was it? Velvet or something?

With a loud creak, the big wooden doors slid open, and I was greeted with the sight of my teary-eyed mother and trembling little sister. As the peacekeeper closed the door behind them, I stood up, not daring to move in fear of my legs trembling. Hali ran up to me, and her slender arms encircled my waist. Her tears stained my dress, but I didn't mind.

My mother stayed a bit back, a pained expression present on her face. Her hand was covering her mouth, though I could tell there was a scowl on her face, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Why-" She paused, taking a deep shaky breath. "Why did you volunteer?" She asked quietly, yet still loudly enough for me to hear. I shook my head, closing my eyes as I felt tears well up.

"I- I don't know. I had to." I respond, and my chest begins heaving up and down, and I begin to hiccup. "Annie has- she's helped us so much... I owe it to her." I say quietly, my hand caressing Hali's head. A loud sob escaped her lips.

An exhausted sigh leaves my mothers' lips, and she sniffles.

"You don't owe her anything! It's normal for everyone to help each other out, that's how we live!" My mother shouts, hiding her face in her hand. "Y-you're just throwing your life away... If you hadn't volunteered, you'd be free." She says quietly, more to herself than to me. Her legs slowly begin moving, and she's quickly pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

The three of us stand there for a bit, just embracing and crying. Hali's sobs began to quieten down, but she's started biting down on her nails. "Hali, stop it. You'll hurt yourself." I mutter quietly, taking her hand into my own, squeezing it reassuringly.

She shakes her head, and more tears spill out. I pull away from my mom, and lead them to sit on the couch on either side of me.

"Take care of yourselves, okay?" I asked, looking between the two as I caressed Hali's head. My mother nodded, her hand coming up to hold my cheek. "We'll be okay. And so will you. You have Finnick, he w-won his games right?" My mother asked, stumbling over her own words. I nodded my head, before leaning into her hold.

"I'll be okay..." I whispered brokenly. We sat there in silence for the remaining few minutes, exchanging hugs. As the peacekeepers escorted them out, I shouted 'I love you's' to them. My mother opened her lips to respond, more tears escaping her eyes but the door was slammed in my face before I could hear what she said. A strangled sob left my lips, and in a combination of frustration and stress, I kicked the door, slamming my fist against it with a strained scream.

After a minute or so, it opened again.

I saw her fiery red hair first, bouncing up and down as she ran over to me, tears streaming down her face yet again.

"Y/n! Why?! Why did you volunteer for me?!" She shouted at me, shaking my shoulders. Her nails dug into my skin, and her eyes looked desperately into mine.

"You didn't have to and you know it! What if something happens to you?! What if you get seriously injured or- or killed?!" Annie continued, leaning her head on my chest. Her voice was strained and hoarse. I held her in my arms, gently stroking soothing circles into her back, as I always would. After a while, she looked up at me, her eyes teary and her face flushed.

"I'll look after your mom and sister, I promise." She said quietly, resting her chin on my shoulder. "When you're in there-" She paused, taking a shaky breath. "You won't need to worry about them, okay?" She asked, her hand caressing the back of my head, the other caging me against her body.

I nodded my head, looking up to the ceiling as tears began to prick at my waterline, "I'd appreciate that, thanks." I say, my voice tender, barely above a whisper.

I squeezed her tighter, and we sat there silently comforting each other until the peacekeepers returned, escorting Annie out of the room, just like they did with my mother and sister. For a minute or two, the room is completely silent. My breaths are shallow, and I've successfully stopped the tears from falling.

I won't cry. I can't cry.

I sit there for a while, and soon the doors open once again. For a moment I believe that the peacekeepers will take me to the car, but I'm faced with a much more disappointing sight.

"What are you doing here?!" I screech, my lips forming into a disgusted scowl. The sight of him made me sick. He was a tall, skinny man. His skin was saggy, hanging onto his body, and he was permanently stuck looking tired and sickly.

He took his hat off, twisting it between his hands. He sighed heavily, smacking his lips. For a moment, he said nothing. But then he began.

"I- I came to wish you luck. Sweetheart, I know I hurt you, but you must know I still care about you." He said quietly, keeping his distance. "I know you don't want to see me, but I had to give you this." He said, stepping closer as he extended his hand to me, something green and golden glinting in his palm. I know what it is-

"It was your grandmothers... I kept it after she passed away," He pauses, stopping in his tracks. His gaze shifts from anywhere, to my eyes, and I can see the pain in them. "She wanted you to have this, so take it, it'll keep you safe." He insisted, and had come close enough to place the bracelet into my hand. My heart swelled, and I became overcome with pain.

After my grandmother passed, my scumbag of a father had packed his bags and left for another woman, leaving no trace of himself or my beloved grandma in the house.

"I hate you..." I said quietly, my heart hurting too much to even be angry. I spun the bracelet in my palm, though slowly and gently, I was suddenly afraid that it would break if I held it too hard.

"I know, I know you do. But I needed to give you this. No matter how much you hate me, I still love you." My father says quietly, looking into my eyes hopefully.

I shake my head, looking away. "Get out."

A gasp escaped his lips, and I raise my voice. "Get out!"

I can hear his footsteps moving away, but I'm not looking. Instead, I stare out the grand window, my arms crossed over my chest as my thumb massages over the bracelet. I can hear the door opening and closing, before I'm completely swallowed by a deafening silence.

I swallow thickly, and a lone, strangled sob escapes my throat. I refuse to cry though, as he doesn't deserve my tears, or sympathy or gratefulness. I continue to stare out of the window, at the beautiful garden behind the Justice Building, until the peacekeepers come to retrieve me. I put the bracelet on though, afraid that I'll lose it otherwise.

The peacekeepers reappear after a short time, and escort me out to the car. When I arrive, the other boy is already sat there, twiddling with his thumbs, head hanging low. Next to him is sat Sylvia, the announcer and District escort, looking at a notebook as she busies herself with ticking something off. I seat myself next to her, and the door is promptly shut on me.

No words are exchanged, and the car ride is short and swift.

The cameras are relentless and blinding. The crowds of cameras are thick, and refuse to make way for us. I look at the train ahead, patiently waiting for us to board it. And then I catch a glimpse of myself on a large TV screen.

I look confused, shell-shocked. My eyebrows are scrunched together, the corners of my lips tugging downwards. The boy next to me, Beau, looks absolutely terrified. It is clear that he has been crying, his cheeks are freshly stained red, his hair unruly and tremors gloss over him from time to time.

The cameras continue to bombard us with clicking sounds and flashing lights, taking pictures of every angle until we reach the doors of the train. Sylvia instructs me and Beau to smile and wave, and even insists on me blowing kisses into the lenses.

Eventually we're let onto the train, the doors behind us zipping shut. I have to take a moment to adjust to the barely-lit train cart, as I can still see the colourful lights flashing in my vision. I'm quickly pushed into another cart by Sylvia, who doesn't give us a moment to recollect our thoughts.

Finnick and Mags are already there, sat waiting at a dining table. Sylvia ushers us forward, her heels no longer making that daunting clicky-clacking sound as she walks over a soft carpet. Finnick turns in his seat, his gaze instantly catching mine, observing.

I don't lift a finger, don't utter any words. Instead, I shift my gaze to look over the interior of the cart. There are large, crystal-clear windows, thick mahogany curtains embracing the edges, and golden ropes keeping the curtains bound to the sides. The carpet itself is also red, with golden lining travelling parallel on both sides as it extends into another cart. Most of the furniture is silver; chairs, table, sofas, cupboards. The wallpaper is a faint blue, with diamond shaped-patterns stretching out across the expanse of the cart.

A voice rips through the air, struggling. I look to the source of it, and notice Mags trying to speak. She gestures for us to sit down, and we reluctantly do so. Beau takes the empty seat next to Mags, whereas I have to sit next to Finnick.

"So," Mags starts, taking in a breath, "How are y-you two feeling?" Her voice is quiet, croaky, and her accent is much more noticeable than mine or Finnick's.

I look to Beau, who stares at his hands. I look back to Mags, and manage a faint smile.

"Not so good, but does anyone feel good after realising they're taking a train to their death?" I ask quietly, my smile faltering as I look away, rubbing my arm. She heaves a heavy sigh, moving around a bit.

She coughs quietly, and it's evident that she is struggling to speak.

"Me and Finnick are going to do our best, okay you two?" She asks again, her hand shakily moving to hold Beau's in a tight grip as we both see that the boy has started to tremble.

Beau takes in a deep, shaky breath, and shakes his head. "I don't want to die, I can't die. What will happen to my sister?" He asks, his free hand coming up to wipe away his tears. Mags has a big frown on her face as she moves her chair closer to Beau, holding him in her embrace. "You'll be okay, child. When Finnick was your age, he won the games. You can do the same." She reassures, clearing her throat as she shakes her head.

I look towards Finnick, and notice that his eyes are slightly puffy. His gaze is fixed on Mags, and he doesn't acknowledge me or Sylvia.

He's silent throughout the rest of the interaction, but his hand eventually inches downward, his fingers tracing the silver framing of my chair, dancing over it. I look down at it as Mags, Sylvia and Beau talk to each other, digging into their food that the kitchen staff had brought for us. All of a sudden, his fingers wrap over the framing, and pull on my chair until it's close enough for our arms to touch. Though it doesn't ease the constant ache in the pit of my stomach, it feels nice to have his skin brush mine, even if it's not romantic whatsoever. It's still enough to make my heart rate spike, and my breathing to become shallower.

I turn to face him, looking at his eyes, but he's not looking at me.

If he were to turn his head to look at me...We'd kiss.

I force myself to look away and towards Mags as I feel the heat suddenly rush up to my cheeks.

Turning to the trio, I tune in on their conversation. Mags was speaking quietly, just barely above a whisper. She was asking Beau about any special talents that he may have, and at that, Beau straightened up, dropping his cutlery, his face flushing instantly.

"I... I can sing." He responded, his voice as light as a feather, and a small, barely noticeable smile tugged at his lips. At that, Sylvia's eyebrows rose, and she looked up from her food, intrigued. "Well then, can you sing for us?" She asks, placing her cutlery down, placing her elbows on the table as she locks her hands together. So now she's paying attention.

"W-well, I don't know that many songs!" Beau exclaimed, an unsure laugh leaving his lips as he scratched the back of his head. "My mom taught me a few bits and bobs, b-but that's it really!" He continued, looking between Mags and Sylvia, before he turned to me, diverting their attention.

"Do you have any special skill? Uh-" He asked, pausing a little as he looked away, scratching at his chin. "Y/n, was it?" He looked to me, his eyes glinting with uncertainty. I nodded my head, biting down on some duck meat. I take a moment to chew, before replying with, "Yeah, uh, I'm not sure if it counts as a 'special' skill but..." I paused for a second, thinking of my answer. "I'm quite good at playing the guitar." I continue, looking down at my plate.

I had gotten myself a rather large portion of a duck, some mashed potatoes and greens. I opted for a simple combination, as the chefs had brought more food than any of us could eat. It was so much better than any meal I have ever tasted, the duck was juicy and tender, melting away in my mouth. The potatoes were smooth and soft, with a hint of salt in them.

Though I can confidently say it doesn't beat my mothers fish stew. Nothing beats home cooking.

I feel Finnick shifting next to me, and from the corner of my eye I can see that he's looking at me. For a moment, I doubt that he'll say anything.

"I believe I've made up a plan." He says curtly, reaching for my hand. He takes hold of it, pressing the plush skin of my fingertips, scarred by numerous hours of practice, feeling how it springs back. Everyone's attention has turned to him, and nobody speaks.

"For now, I believe that the best way to gain sponsors is for the two of you to stick together," He pauses, looking between me and Beau.

"Beau. You're small, you're adorable. During your interview, Caesar will lead the conversation. It would be a good idea to offer to sing for the audience, if you're nervous." Finnick pauses, waiting for some sort of response from Beau.

The boy nods, his big eyes gazing up at Finnick from underneath thick eyelashes.

Finnick then turns to me, his hand having shifted from my fingertips to the bracelet I was given just a few hours prior. He spun it slowly around my wrist, his eyes fixed on the object.

"As for you, Y/n, I think Caesar will be willing enough to make some... Accommodations." He states, his thumb glazing over the bracelet, tracing its' golden lining.

"I'll speak to him beforehand, and ask him to prepare a guitar for you, so that you can play a song. It'll create a kind of 'connection' between you and Beau, the audience will love it." He finishes, looking up into my eyes.

"How are we going to do that?" I ask, swallowing the shame I feel as he rests my hand on his thigh. "It's quite simple, really." He quickly replies. "With your guitar, you and Beau can work on a song together. I'm sure the editors will make a montage of sorts, pairing Beau's singing with your guitar. It'll make the audiences go wild." He finishes, and for the rest of the evening doesn't say add on much else, leaving the planning to Mags and Sylvia, with Beau and I occasionally butting in.

After all of us finish eating, and the conversation dries up, Mags quickly ushers me and Beau to our chambers, mumbling about how we're going to have a busy day tomorrow.

The silver doors once again zip shut behind me, but this time I'm left all on my own. All on my own to process the days' events, emotions and weariness. In my room, there is a simple bathroom, it is adorned with a pretty white porcelain sink, a cubed shower, and a large mirror.

There is a whole collection of soaps and shampoos to choose from, and I decide on a honey-scented soap, and a chocolate-scented shampoo. Chocolate is some sort of dark brown, squared treat that nobody in District 4 has even dreamed of.

The walls are tiles in the colour of a deep red, and the ceiling light casts a golden glow on the interior, creating a false sense of comfort.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I strip, observing my skin, the different marks, moles and bruises that decorate it. I look at my face, noticing the deep shadows, or rather eyebags, that hang on the crease under my eyes, painting the area a darker tone of my skin. My hair, once a beautiful picture-perfect net impersonation, is now a tangled mess, and I hiss in my pain as I tug at the knots in it. This will be a long night, I think to myself.

A shiver runs down my spine as I step into the shower. The small cube-shaped space consists of clear doors, a porcelain seat of sorts and a tiled floor with a drain situated just below the showerhead. The water is at first scalding hot, burning my skin before I'm able to adjust the heat. After that, it's all bliss and comfort as I dip my head under the water, the droplets feeling like a warm summer sprinkle. I've never had a shower; those are only accessible to the wealthiest.

Usually, at least in my area of District 4, we have showers just outside of our houses, sheltered away from curious, and perverted, onlookers by four wooden walls and a roof. There is a pipe that connects to another pipe that connects to some treated water, and although it's freezing cold, it is much better having that than sea water. After spending hours on a boat fishing, or working at the harbour, many people grow to hate the salty wrinkles that take hours to completely disappear, only to reappear the next working day.

But this water is so much different. Warm and gentle, it detangles my hair, and cascades down my back, easing my sore muscles. I've never felt such luxury. Does everyone in the Capitol have access to this?

I lather my hair with the sweet shampoo, and have to fight off the urge to taste it. My fingers move across my scalp, rubbing the liquid into the roots. It takes a while to wash out, but I eventually get out of the shower, brushing through my hair with my fingers.

After I leave the bathroom, having washed myself and brushed my teeth, I feel as though I just left heaven. My muscles feel relaxed, my head is in a state of bliss.

As I sink into the bed, I am welcomed by the soft material of the sheets. The sheets wrap around me, my body melting into the soft mattress, swallowed by warmth and fuzziness. For a moment, I am stuck in that blissful state, but then my mind wanders.

Do Capitol citizens have access to this? Do any Districts have access to this kind of luxury? Is it 24/7, or do only the wealthiest have access? It doesn't seem fair.

But I shake those thoughts away. After all, I will most likely be dead soon. It won't matter anymore, whether I suffer or not. Another tribute will probably kill me quickly and swiftly, ending my short-spanned life.

The least I can do for myself now is enjoy the luxury that is being thrown so viciously at me. For the first time in my life, I've been able to go to bed with a full belly. For the first time in my life, I feel relaxed after washing myself. For the first time in my life, I can go to sleep without any pain, or hunger, or anything. Just bliss. Just comfort. Just luxury.

But that doesn't last long either. Oh, I forgot. Materialistic luxury is fleeting, sleep is the true luxury. But even now, as I'm trapped in this rich-laid room, I cannot afford the luxury of sleep. I twist and turn in the bed for what feels like hours, unable to sleep.

My stomach twists into knots, and I soon have to take the duvet off of me, as I'm drenched in sweat. The stillness of the room allows my thoughts to wander.

I'm scared. I'm absolutely fucking terrified. I just willingly threw myself into the hands of death. What was I thinking? That I can win the Games? That I can kill someone, let alone a child? Children?

I take in a deep breath, feeling as the air enters my lungs, and a shiver runs down my spine. The heat I was feeling just moments ago has dissipated, and I'm left a trembling, cold mess.

I wrap the duvet over myself again, trying to contain the tremors. I'm shivering uncontrollably, my legs and arms twitching as I pull the duvet impossibly closer.

I start thinking of Hali and my mom. Of Annie, her tear-stricken face, the mess her flaming hair had become in her panic. I think of Finnick. Was he disappointed by the fact I had volunteered? Was he angered by it?

I couldn't tell. But it didn't matter in the end; I couldn't let Annie go into that arena. She was too kind, too gentle, too fragile. If there is a world full of those who deserve to be put into an arena, fighting to the death like wild animals, Annie isn't a part of that world. She took care of me after my deep-dive into the icy waters, helped my mother nurse me back to health, she took care of me when we were kids, provided me company and listened to all my secrets and grievances, helped me deal with my fathers sudden abandonment. And now has even promised to look after my loved ones as I willingly shove myself into a gruesome bloodbath.

I could never repay her. I could never repay her for all the things she's done for me and my family.

With a loud sigh, I sit up, clutching the bedsheets tightly in my fists. With the back of my hand I wipe away a few stray tears.

A cup of water sounds nice.

I put on a bathrobe that has been hung in a fancy wardrobe, still shivering, I put on my fluffy slippers, and press a button. The doors in front of me zip open, shaking lightly as the train passes over something rough.

The corridors are dark, as only a single light shines. I trudge through the cart, sliding another door open. It's even darker in here, this cart being much longer than the one that carried Beau and I, and I think Mags and Finnick and Sylvia have their rooms in here. I quietly walk through, looking at the doors. Maybe Finnick is behind one of them, and if he is, then it's just my luck.

His silence at the dinner table was unnerving. I need to know what he was thinking.

There's two doors on my left, and one to the right. Any normal person would assume the left is for the ladies, right? With that, I gently knock on the door to my right, and I hear someone shuffling about, before the doors slide open and I'm standing face to chest with a shirtless Finnick Odair.

At my height, the tip of my head reaches just the top of Finnick's shoulders. Goddamn, was he always so freakishly tall? I slowly look up to him, my neck bending slightly. He's already staring at me, though there is haziness in those beautiful green eyes of his.

He doesn't utter a word, and instead reaches for my hand - his skin is scalding hot against my icy hands - and he swiftly pulls me into his room, the doors sliding shut. I bump into his chest head-first.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" He asks, his voice as warm and sweet as honey. I almost melt on the spot, though the shivers continue travelling down my whole body. It takes me a whole minute to compose myself. He definitely knows I like him. My lips open and close, no words leaving, and I'm stuck. What did I come to him for again? With a sigh, Finnick gently takes a hold of my hand and leads me to his bed. As he sits me down on it, I notice that it is far bigger than mine. That's unfair. Though he is the 'Capitol darling'.

"C'mon darling, I'm waiting." He says softly, again. He stands in front of me, and I finally realise that I'm gaping at him like a fish.

I take a sudden, sharp breath and shake my head. "Uh... I- I needed to talk to you..." I whispered, blinking slowly like a child. A soft smile tugs at his lips, and I instantly know that whatever mood he was in earlier, it's definitely gone now.

"So? To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He asks, sitting down next to me. He sits criss-crossed, his knee digging into my side. He pulls me closer, rubbing my arm with his hand, muttering something about how cold I was.

He sure was muscular. What did he do all day? Exercise? I doubt it.

I think for a moment, trying to finalise my words, but with a shake of my head, I decide to shoot straight. "Why were you so quiet at the dinner? I thought you'd be helping out more," I say softly, unsure of whether to continue or not. I look up into his eyes, and see a glint of softness shining in them, "I mean, I know what you're like... But- But it made me nervous..." I finish, looking away and instead choosing to focus on how the skin has begun to peel from my cuticles.

Finnick sighs quietly, his free hand reaching to hold my own.

"I wasn't angry with you, nor disappointed if that's what you're thinking." He states softly, and I swear my heart will collapse if he continues to be so sweet and soft. "It's just that-" He pauses, casting his gaze elsewhere, "I just couldn't imagine what you felt, when you volunteered." He says, gently stroking my hand with his thumb. "You're so good to Annie, you'd do anything for her. And I think it was really selfless." He finished. The words bounced around my head, the meaning completely avoiding any sort of understanding.

Another tremor goes through me, and I tuck my legs against my chest, teeth chattering.

My eyebrows scrunch up in confusion.

"What do you mean? Annie's the amazing one, not me." I scoff. I shake my head, looking up at him. Just how delusional is he? Me? Selfless? Somehow I can't see how the two mix well together.

Finnick's grip on my hand tightens, and he heaves a sigh. "See, you don't actually realise just how kind you are. I mean- Y-You literally provide for Annie and her father. You helped me out so much, you listened to me when I needed an ear." He says, his tone shifting to a more annoyed one.

I look at him in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right? I mean-" I pause, releasing a shaky breath. "Y-you're the one that saved me. Annie's the one that took care of me. You think I wouldn't do everything in my power to repay you?" I asked, tugging my hand away. "You're being ridiculous, Finnick." I quickly add on, but Finnick completely ignores me, instead opting to change the conversation.

I don't know if I'm genuinely upset by his words, or if it's the adrenaline that's rushing through me. I rub at my arms, frantically attempting to warm up.

Finnick doesn't reply for a moment, and as I stare at him, I notice how prettily his hair falls over his forehead, a few strands extending over his lash line.

He sighs quietly, and turns to me again.

"We're not going to argue about this. I see no point in it, and you're clearly too anxious." He says, pulling me closer to his chest. I don't resist or pull away, instead I lean into his warmth.

"I-I couldn't- I couldn't sleep." Softly I admit.

"I thought so... It would be weird if you were completely fine." He responded, his voice was like honey, dripping sweetly into my ears, warming my heart.

"I know it's weird of me to ask, but... Can I stay with you? Just for tonight, I promise." I ask, my gaze fixed on a hair strand that stuck out in front of my face. I don't hear a response, but Finnick doesn't waste a second to lift me up, moving the duvet before placing my body down on the bed, joining after.

"C'mon then, we don't have all night." He gestures to me, a cheeky smile on his face. That's the Finnick I know. I nod silently, and clamber further up the bed. Finnick pats the empty spot beside him, and as I join, he drapes the velvety duvet over the two of us, before his toned, muscular arm slides beneath my neck. He brings me in closer, and my face rests against his hot chest, the warmth radiating off him as if he was the sun. My own, personal sun.

"We're gonna be cuddling?" I ask, giggling slightly. The shivers have eased, though my hand is still quite shaky. Unsure of where to go, I rest my hand on his toned stomach, fingers itching to glide over his skin, to feel every crevice and stretch of skin that he can offer. I've never been this close to him... Am I going feral? What the hell?

Finnick chuckles in reply, and I feel him shifting slightly again. I look up to him, and notice that he's already staring at me, a toothy grin stretching through his lips. "If you have a problem with it, then I can sleep on the floor. That'd be more favourable, wouldn't it?" His voice is low and gravelly, but also husky and comforting, his hand softly stroking circles into the skin on my arm. I shake my head with a smile and thank him.

We sit like this for a while, just feeling each others warmth. It's much better than sleeping alone, that's for sure. Finnick's natural scent has long since invaded my lungs, but I feel myself becoming drowsy, enamoured by his every characteristic. The hand that was stroking my arm eventually stopped, but he never ceased to hold me tight to him, his nose stroking against my hair as he breathed softly.

No words were exchanged, and we laid there for hours. I would often drip in and out of consciousness, startling the two of us awake with a loud gasp. He would comfort me, realising that I was constantly having nightmares, and he would lull me back into sleep with his honeyed voice, whispering sweet nothings into my ears.

Eventually, Finnick moved positions, turning his body sideways, pulling me even closer into his chest - if that was physically possible. Now, with my face flushed against his chest, I could fully relax. It may have been a bit much, but I lazily draped my leg over his own, not thinking in my drowsiness. Though it seemed to help, as my breathing steadied and I almost lulled myself back into a dreamless sleep. Better than nightmares, at least.

Finnick's soft voice gently awoke me, but it sounded as though he'd also been dosed with the natural sleep syrup.

"It's just like back then, isn't it?" He asks sleepily, his voice raspy. His body had slid further down the bed until my nose rested against his neck, inhaling his sickly-sweet scent. I nod my head lazily, grunting out a throaty 'mmm' in response. I earned myself a chuckle, and a quick 'I'll let you sleep now', before I completely drifted out of consciousness.

I don't wake up again on that night, but slowly rouse myself awake as I feel the sunrays poking at my closed eyes.

I can't move, as Finnick's arms grip my body, keeping me close to his own. For a while, I lay there, content with just laying with my eyes closed with Finnick holding me.

But the growing anxiety in my stomach gnaws at my nerves, and I can feel my pulse in my ear.

Though I try to fight it, I eventually raise my head, peeking over Finnick's broad shoulder. Still sleepy, I act before I can think. Placing my hand on his waist, I lean in close enough so that my nose nuzzles against his bicep, inhaling Finnick's sickly-sweet scent. It comforts me enough to settle my nerves.

It's a surprise that I'm not sick of it already.

My eyes slowly flutter open, and I have to blink a couple of times to adjust to the light. The train is still moving, though now we're passing by a grand lake, surrounded by some mountains. Wherever we are at, it sure is beautiful. I look down to Finnick, and a startled sound escapes me as his eyes are already boring into mine, though tiredly. No matter the time of day or night, Finnick Odair will always find it in himself to dish out sarcasm. "Having fun, sweetheart?" He asks, though by the look in his eyes, I can see that he needs no answer.

I shake my head, feeling my cheeks flush out of embarrassment. Did he really just lay there? Whilst I literally nuzzled my nose against him? Am I crazy?! Or... Is he?

I can't form a single reply, and my mind goes blank. May the arena take me already.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He nudges further, that toothy grin making a reappearance as the sun lazily glosses over his skin. I shake my head 'no', though still can't form a single sentence. I swallow heavily, and take a deep breath.

"Isn't it- Isn't it time?" I ask, feeling my brain short-circuiting.

"Time for what?" Asks Finnick, shuffling lightly. His voice is gravelly and husky from sleep. My fingers gently grip at his flesh, unknowingly. "That tickles y'know." He says, chuckling under his breath.

"What?" I ask, confused.

He doesn't say anything, but instead his gaze points towards my hand, his eyebrows rising slightly. My nails are lightly digging into his skin. I blink once, then I blink once again. As if he just burned me, I retract my hand instantly, hiding it behind my back. I take a deep breath, focusing on letting it out slowly. With an accusatory tone, I ask, "How long have you been awake?"

Finnick laughs, crinkles of skin appearing at the outer corners of his eyes, paired with the dimples that form whenever there is even the tiniest hint of a smile. "Long enough for me to feel you sniffing my arm." He admits, still amused. My face grows red, and I could swear steam was coming out of my ears. A shiver runs through me.

Before I can ask any further questions, or even think of a reply, someone's knocking on the door. Then, a panicked Sylvia Borgnino is speaking.

"Finnick? Finnick are you awake?! You better be!" She shouts, and Finnick swiftly gets out of the bed to open the door. His back is muscular and toned... Wow.

The doors slide open, and he asks, "Sylvia? Did you need anything?" Leaning lazily with his body against the doorframe.

"Yes! I did. I went to wake Y/n but she's not answering the door! Come and-" She pauses, as her eyes catch onto someone in Finnick's bed. "Is that-" She pauses, her fingers reaching up to massage her temple, taking a deep breath. "Is that Y/n?" Finnick slowly turns his head, locking eyes with me, he winks, before he nods, and turns back to Sylvia.

"Yeah, it is." He confirms, his head resting on the doorframe. "Did you need anything from us? 'Cause if not... Then I'll get back to what we were doing." He says, his voice raspy from sleeping, yet still soft and melodic. I can almost hear him smirking.

I can hear a gasp, followed by a, "Where are your manners, Finnick?!" Her tone is accusatory as I see Sylvia eyeing Finnick up and down, a clear scowl on her face. She huffs out a breath, and tiptoes to see over his shoulder.

"Hi...Sylvia?" I ask carefully, my voice light and high-pitched as I'm uncertain of what her reaction will be. Her eyebrows are scrunched up in disapproval, and she doesn't respond to me. Instead, she turns to Finnick, glaring at him with a glint of danger in her eyes. "You two better be ready in 20 minutes! If either of you are late I-" She exclaims, but pauses as she deliberates on what to say. "I'll make sure you two regret it!" And with that she leaves, her footsteps thumping down along the corridor.

"She seemed... Pretty angry." I say quietly, meddling with my bracelet, unsure of Finnick's own mood. Though he is quick to reply, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "She certainly is, she won't let us forget this for a while I don't think." He finishes, scrunching his nose at me, a smile now prominent. The crinkles beneath his eyes deepen with the scrunch, and his dimples make an appearance. I laugh quietly, covering my smile with my palm.

"No, no don't cover yourself honey. You don't need to hide your smile from me." He says, his voice hushed yet soft, as he crawls on the bed towards me. He maintains steady eye contact, and neither of us are willing to look away. If I were to look away now, I'd feel as though I've lost a battle.

I feel myself slipping away, drowning in his sea-green eyes, unable to escape. His gaze is hooded, his long eyelashes lazily fanning over his eyes. I blink rapidly, feeling my breathing becoming heavy. His voice, as sweet as Sleep Syrup, whisks me away back into the present. "Well then, shall we get ready?" He asks, now having laid his chin on my outstretched legs, his hands sturdily holding onto my calves.

I gulp, and nod my head, though neither of us move.

Finnick continues to lay still, his eyes boring into mine. I gently nudge him with my foot, which seems to get a reaction. He slowly rises back onto all fours, and proceeds to get off of me. He walks up to my side of the bed, hand outstretched. He wiggles his fingers, and that toothy grin returns.

"C'mon, I'll take you back to your room. Once you're done, I'll meet you in the dining room." He states, and I lend him my hand. He swiftly pulls me up and we proceed to my room. The walk isn't long, but I'm unwilling to let him go, fear flushing over my body like a wave.

"Finnick..."

"You okay honey?" He asks, not sparing a moment to think to respond to me, it felt very much instinctual. I hesitate, and decide not to pursue the topic. "Nevermind, it's okay. I-I'll see you in a bit." I smile unsurely, waving him away, although he remains still, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern.

"If you wanna talk, if there's something on your mind, you can tell me, Y/n." He says, his voice having taken on a serious undertone. I nod my head with a small smile and thank him, before I step into my room and the door slides shut, separating us.

I take a quick shower, the warm artificial rain slightly easing my nerves, I brush my teeth and change my clothes before I take one last look in the mirror. My hair looks fine, my teeth are clean, but I can still feel the rattling of my heart, the shakiness ghosting my legs, and the pricking of nails at my hands.

I shake my head, taking a deep breath. This is not the time, I think to myself, and exit my room.

The train is eerily quiet as it travels. It is much different on the inside than it is to the outside. Whenever I got to see a train, I was overcome with fear and anxiety, as it would travel awfully fast and make tons of noise. It would make me terrified and anxious, and although I'm on the inside of the train, those same feelings are now making an appearance.

I continue on, my feet shuffling towards the next cart, though I feel them becoming numb.

There is loud chatter coming from the room, and as I come closer, I can hear Beau telling a story, and soon I can see Finnick and Mags listening intently, giving their breadcrumb opinions on the matter at hand. As I enter the room, Beau exclaims a loud, "Y/n!", and everyone turns their heads. Mags greets me with a strained voice and a gentle smile as she smothers a piece of toast with a clumpy liquid, Sylvia and Finnick turn to me with smiles.

"We've been waiting for you, Y/n. Come, sit with us." Finnick says as I make my way towards him, and I notice his smile from earlier is now gone.

"We've been discussing the games, and everyone agrees on what course of action we'll take." Bringing up a steamy cup to her lips, Sylvia says before sipping on some black liquid.

"If you want me to play the guitar then I'm gonna need to know what song I'll be playing to." I state quietly, lathering some toast in jam.

My stomach twists and turns as I'm reminded of what's to come.

The Games. The bloodbath. The paparazzi and the flashy cameras. I'm gonna be put up on display like a wild animal. I'm going to be placed in that arena, forced to fight to the death against twenty-three other tributes. I feel my stomach drop, and one of my legs begins to bounce up and down rapidly under the table.

I might as well step off the metal plate before the gong sounds and blast myself to pieces. I remember watching a tribute in the Games a few years back. She was fiddling with something in her hands, trembling so much that she dropped it. It was far too late for her to catch it, because as soon as it hit the ground, she was blasted into pieces.

I pitied her, though now I considered sharing the same fate. How ironic.

Either way I'm trapped. I'm trapped in this train, I'll be trapped in the Capitol, and I will be trapped in the arena.

The only means of escape is death.

Finnick continues to discuss the plan with the others, and I'm able to get the gist of it. It's enough for me to realise he wants me to help Beau in the arena, which I don't have an issue with in and of itself.

The issue will be when we have to split up, or if we both end up getting through to the final showdown. What will we do? Fight each other?

I lean back into my chair, abandoning the jam toast on a porcelain plate, barely having taken a bite out of it. I can't eat anymore, I don't want to. I swallow thickly, but notice how dry my throat has become.

I take in a deep, shaky breath, and think of reaching for some water.

Water. Water sounds nice. Reaching for it shouldn't be too difficult to do... Right? The bouncing of my leg has increased in speed. I feel goosebumps travelling down my arms.

I can't.

The cart feels so much colder now, so less spacious, and my hands and arms feel numb. I tune out the conversation in front of me, instead focusing on a faraway, high-pitched noise. Was that the train screeching against the tracks? Isn't it supposed to be silent?

It starts off slowly; the trembling. A couple shivers here and there, but it soon turns into full-blown chills. They really must've crammed the air conditioning up. I look to everyone, from Beau to Mags, Sylvia to Finnick. But they all seem fine? Maybe- Maybe it's just me. My hands feel clammy, sweaty. I try wiping them on the long sleeves of my shirt, but the clamminess doesn't go away.

I need to get out of here.

The walls feel too close, and my head feels heavy. I close my eyes, lifting a shaky hand to massage at my temple. My breaths are shaky. My leg doesn't stop bouncing. The shivers continue.

Get up, get up, get up, get up!

My legs don't listen, and I bite down harshly on my bottom lip. Tears start pricking at my eyes, and I have to blink rapidly to get rid of them.

I hear a voice.

It feels so close yet so far.

The tears are now fully welled-up in my eyes, on the verge of falling. I bite down harshly on my bottom lip, feeling the skin crackle under my teeth.

The iron taste of blood sits on my tongue.

I look around, anywhere. But I catch the gazes of everyone around me. They have stopped talking between themselves.

They've stopped talking?

Why aren't they talking?

I look down at my lap, heaving in a shaky breath. It sounds as if I'm wheezing.

"Y/n?" It feels distant, and I'm not sure who the voice belongs to. A warm hand nudges me, and I look up, seeing Finnick's sea-green eyes boring into mine.

There is a clear concern glinting across them, and his mouth is slightly parted.

I can't breathe. I can't get enough air into my lungs. Why can't I breathe?

Calm down, Y/n. Calm down.

But I don't calm down. Instead, I begin gasping for air, my chest shakily heaving up and down, the tears escaping like water from a broken dam. My cheeks flush, and I try to supress my sobs. I bring a shaky hand up to my mouth, shaking my head in the process.

I feel arms wrapping around me, and soon I'm scooped up into the air, my head resting against a sturdy chest. It's Finnick.

In any other situation, I'd try to sniff his scent, or focus on the heat radiating from his body. But now, all I can do as I try to breathe, is cover my mouth. The sobs grow louder, and more tears slide down my cheeks.

"Fuck... Fuck, fuck fuck!" I wail out, my knuckles aggressively wiping at my eyes. I'm not supposed to be crying. I'm supposed to be strong, I'm supposed to be tough.

My body bounces up and down as Finnick runs through the carts, eventually leading me into a room.

Finnick soon lays me down into some silky sheets, although I can't tell who's room I find myself in.

My chest is aggressively heaving up and down, but I can't catch my breath.

My chest feels tight.

I supress another loud sob.

The room suddenly becomes dark, and I find some comfort in that.

"I w-wasn't-... I-I wasn't supposed to cry!" My voice is sickeningly high-pitched and drawn out, and I cry out, covering my face with one hand as I turn on my side, gripping the sheets tightly in my other one.

I can feel Finnick's hand softly caressing my hair, but I continue to cry.

His arms wrap up around me, and I can hear him telling me 'It's okay's'.

I manage to supress my sobs and wails, though my lips are tugged downwards in a scowl, my eyebrows furrowed and I'm pretty sure I look pathetic. Not strong, or tough. Just pathetic. And Finnick is witnessing all this.

"Get out..." I say quietly, a small sob leaving my throat.

"What?" Finnick leans in closer, unable to hear me coherently.

"Get out!" I exclaim. "P-please get out!" I shout, though it's not as loud as I convince myself it is. "I don't want you to see me like this..." I insist, my voice hoarse and small.

More sobs break out through me, and I feel more tears welling up in my eyes.

"Please... Just leave me alone-" I continue, wrapping my arms around myself.

Finnick shakes his head, repeatedly saying soft 'no's'. I ignore him, my hands pushing away at his chest.

Without a second thought, he scoops me up into his lap, forcing my face into his chest. My sobbing only becomes stronger, but it soon eases into soft hiccups as Finnick begins humming a lullaby, stroking my hair with one hand, cradling me with the other.

I focus on the sound of his voice.

His voice is so lovely... So soft.

I close my eyes again, grimacing as I let the tears flow.

It takes a while of Finnick humming and caressing me, but my breathing eventually steadies, with occasional, throaty sobs making me hiccup. I continue wiping aggressively at my eyes, but the longer that Finnick hums, the more I let them cascade freely, until eventually they stop and I feel the wetness of my eyelashes against my cheeks.

We sit like this for a who knows how long, long after my crying has ceased. A scowl remains on my face, but I continue listening. It has been a long time since someone has comforted me like this...

The last person I remember doing this... Is my grandma.

She was a wonderful woman, though strict at times and painfully honest, she never failed to show me just how much she loved me. Guiding me through meltdowns as a child, in just the same exact way as Finnick is now.

"I'm tired..." I softly mutter to Finnick, hiding my face further in his chest. My voice is raw from crying, and my eyes slightly burn from all the salty tears and rough knuckles. Finnick's shirt is damp with them, but I don't think he minds it too much.

"D'you wanna sleep? I can stay with you if you'd like..." He whispers softly, his large hand coming down to caress the side of my face, his thumb lovingly stroking the apple of my cheek. I nod my head gently, and feel the tears trying to return, but I blink them away. "Okay, we'll take a nap, and then we can talk about what happened, okay honey?" He continues, his voice sounding as sweet as honey tastes. I sniffle quietly, and nod my head again, doubting that my voice is steady enough to talk more.

Finnick lays us down on the bed, and drapes the duvet over me, his chest presses against my back. I close my eyes, and feel the drowsiness slowly lure me into a dreamless sleep.

@bambikitten @noisyalmonddreamer @avoxrising @honethatty12 @circe143 @dnpo1son @innercreationflower @lagrimasdepandora @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @lil-tracys @i-bitch-you-bitch @pinkigirl @yourdailymemedelivery @nexxus13 @ropickle @spilled-coffee-cup @zucchinimalfoy @l5byrinth @superbfishhumanoidweasel @whens-naptime @nordicvxid @luvrboiwonu @lili19080 @nojustn00 @antoheartit

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galvanizedfriend · 7 months

Note

HIII if you don’t mind sharing, what are your fav klaroline fics? New and old, I’m in need of new reads 🙏

I'm probably not the best person to be doing new fic recs. 🥲 I have sadly not been reading that much Klaroline myself these days. When I do read fic, it's for other stuff. So my recs are either old or new-ish. 😂 But hopefully you can find something to your liking that haven't read yet here.

Buckle up because I took my sweet time with this list, nonnie.

. Inertia Overcome by @avari20

The first KC fanfic I remember reading the reason why I finally got pulled into the fandom after years of watching TVD as a reasonable spectator (so rly, if you guys can't stand to see me around anymore after all this time, it's this fic's fault for being so good). Honestly one of this fandom's statement works. If you haven't read it yet, please do.

. Timeless by @marvelouskatie

Same as the above. One of the most iconic KC fics of all time imho. The canon AU to end all canon AU. When I first decided to come out of the shadows and create a tumblr and actually start interacting with folks, this was the first fic that was recced to me. I was very grateful then, and now I'm here to pass this knowledge on.

. Picturesque by @supernutellastuff

Honestly of the sweetest, most heartwarming fics I've ever read! It's a human AU that's a How I Met Your Mother sort of adaptation, and honestly the first time I've ever enjoyed HIMYM. I love a good ensemble fic and this is just it! Supernutella is so talented.

. Quiet Light by @definedareasofuncertainty

This fic was WRITTEN FOR ME because of how much I pestered my friend Luiza about Carolijah and this will forever feel like a trophy to my heart. 🥰 It made me feel ALL THE FEELINGS. I hated Caroline, I loved Caroline, I loved my baby Elijah, I hated him, I also hated Klaus (he's such a fucking asshole omfg), but then the end was just DHAGHDDASAS!! You think you're in for a certain kind of story and it turns out to be so much more. It is, deep down, about the brothers, how selfish they are, how they can hurt each other more than anyone, but how they love one another above anything else, even when they want to kill each other (and fall in love with their brother's girl!!!). It's beautiful, like everything Luiza writes, and it genuinely made me cry.

. long limbs and frozen swim by @definedareasofuncertainty

I saw a discussion the other day about how whoever wrote this fic JUST GOT IT, and I have to say I completely agree with the person who made that comment. Luiza just NAILS Caroline's grief and loneliness after her mother's death, how isolating and gut-wrenching it is. Klaus being the person who finds her, who knows exactly what to say without her ever having to spell it out, the one who can truly see her, is so honest too. This fic is sensitive and absolutely beautiful. Luiza's writing is perfection and this is for sure one of my all-time favorites.

. Whisper to me, Help me remember by @lalainajanes

This story reimagines the plot with the "villains" of TO S3 in a way that proves my point that the premise of that season was good, but execution was absolute crap. All of the potential the De Martels had to be incredible antagonists was completely destroyed at the hands of the show writers - but explored to perfection by Laine's much more capable hands. Klaus is freed after 10 years in captivity to find that Caroline had been working with Tristan this whole time in order to take him down - except something is not quite right about that. While you're at it, please read all of Laine's fics! It's a delight.

. Into the Woods by @jinxedwood

I wept when I read this because it's the post-TO canon fic I didn't even know I needed. Caroline's search for a way to stop her twins' merger ends up leading her to someone who's been watching over her on the Other Side. 😭 I thought I'd always rather live in denial when it came to how TO ended, but this fic made my heart so full! Also, jinxedwood's use of fae mythology here was incredible.

. All I Need by @euvixen

This story is HOT. It taught me things about the werewolf AU universe I was not prepared to learn, but I am a much happier person after reading it. It's a canon mates AU that will leave you 🥵🥵🥵🥵 I speak as though the story was merely about the smut, but it's actually much more than that. A TVD S3 reimagine of sorts that is incredibly satisfying. That's my favorite season of TVD, but this is still even better.

. the birth and death of the day by @little-miss-sunny-daisy

Anyone who's known me for a some time knows how this fic was my entire personality for a while there. I'm obsessed with Kelly's writing, and I have this fic on a freaking pedestal. I first started reading it when it was on a six years hiatus, and I was *so* into it I didn't even bother me that it might never get updated because it was so good I was just happy I'd found it. But then my silly comments inspired Kelly to come back to it, finish it, and it has honestly been my greatest accomplishment as a part of this fandom because this is a masterpiece. It's a TVD/Supernatural crossover where Caroline is a step-sister to the Superbros. It's truly, truly epic, with beautiful writing. This could genuinely be a show. It's amazing, just read it.

. this is a harvest by @highgaarden

This, right here, is the perfect Klaroline-within-canon story. This is the story that put my revolt to rest and gave my spirit some much deserved peace where those two are concerned. This is exactly what canon should've been like. I'm not even joking, this is IT. If you'd asked me what I thought the perfect Klaroline development should be like I probably would've said something very vague because I couldn’t explain it, I’m not that great or creative a writer, but now I can just show you this story and let you bask in the amazingness of a fantastic read that will not only keep you thoroughly entertained, but will also be the answer to all the questions you didn't even know you had.

. Paradise Lost by Borzoi

When i grow up, I want to learn how to write like Borzoi. All of their fics are incredible novella-like reads. It's addictive. And this is probably my favorite (it varies though, sometimes I'm in a Parisian Deal era). What happens after Klaus and Caroline sleep together in 5x11, and how they eventually find their way back to each other. It's just one of those stories that you can't stop reading after you start. It's so rich, so deep, so perfectly IC. One of those fics to end all fics.

. The Stubborn Grace of Being Loved Regardless by @helpless-in-sleep One of the modern day classics, if you will. This fic is such a stunning, vivid and delicate picture of Caroline's mind as she was dealing with the consequences of the abuse she suffered at the hands of Damon. She's still human, but she's probably more IC than we've seen her ever on the show when it comes to this. The bond she forms with Klaus is truly incredible too, and speaks a lot of how the two of them really do have a lot in common (even with Caroline still as a human), but it's really the Caroline study part of the story that touches me. The writing is absolutely beautiful as well.

. it takes a while to settle down by theviolinist

This story is a punch to your stomach, but it is PERFECTION in 8k words. It's hot, it's bittersweet, it's SO in character and, in my head, I kinda like to pretend that this is what happened before Caroline married Stefan. lol

. Wanderlust by @bellemorte180 Anybody who was a part of fandom around the time this story was being published can tell you how much of an EVENT it was. There were discussion groups about the mystery. It was so entertaining. Erica's attention to detail and how she wove the little clues throughout the chapters made this a genuine thriller. I particularly some of the side-characters here. It's honestly another fandom staple I think everyone should read.

In terms of newer fics that I can rec you, I have two that are on my TBR. One of them is a WIP that I've been slowly going through, and the other one I know was recently finished.

. make them bow by @stars-and-darkness

This was recced to me by two friends recently and I started reading it a while back and thought it was incredible! I have sadly been awful with keeping up with stuff, but just based on the raving reviews and the five chapters I read, I fully believe it to be just as awesome as it seems to be. The writing was so good, and I was just in love with Klaus' voice in this story. It was so reminescent of early-days TVD Klaus, which is by far my favorite Klaus of all. Sexy and dangerous and so smooth. I loved it! Need to get back to it.

. Wolf Club by @Radioactive79

Listen, if you like kid fics, this is absolutely for you. The whole story is narrated by an eight-year-old OC, the daughter of Ray Sutton, the first werewolf Klaus kills when he's trying to start his mass-production of hybrids. She's a little wolf herself, and a while little thing who was subjected to her fair share of child trauma. Klaus has no idea what to do with her, but ends up taking her with him as continues on his journey, and ends up forging a bond with the little girl. I cannot tell you how delicious this story is. It has Klaroline, yes, but for me the little girl is the absolute star of the company. I usually hate OCs, especially children, in fics, but this one is AMAZING. Seriously. The way this story is written is glorious. I can't recommend it enough.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfic rec #klaroline fanfiction #yokan answers #it's been a minute since i wrote such a long rec list!#i know i have some followers that are new-ish in fandom so i hope this might introduce some old classics to them #honestly this is all better than anything i've ever written #i'm spoiling y'all #hope you still want to read my crappy fics after going through this list nonnie lol #long post

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boytoyhalo · 4 months

Note

Can we have more of the selkie au please?

are there fantasy books in the lighthouse? Did they see seal!Pac after the coat incident? Is Fit hunting an imaginary poachers on the island?

you absolutely can!!

They don't see Pac - human or seal - for a few days after the incident. During those few days, Fit very much notices the absence of his usual evening journaling buddy, and he's very much not happy about it. He scours the island in his free time looking for traces of whatever poacher is squatting there, but he can't find anything. He also notices Pac's absence, and by the 3rd day he's starting to come to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only logical explanation he can think of for his strange behavior, and the lack or evidence for any other people on the island, is that Pac must be the poacher he's looking for. He doesn't want to believe it, because Pac is so nice and he's always seemed to really like the seals (maybe even more so than him or Ramon) when they've been around them together, but he just doesn't know what else it could possibly be. Then right as he's resigned himself to confronting him about it, and begun to prepare for the ordeal of filing a report against his friend, he finds his furry friend waiting for him on it's usual rocks like nothing happened.

Fit spends a good few minutes just gaping at it, completely frozen - the fucking thing has the gall to look confused, tilting it's head at him like his son wasn't sobbing over it's severed skin just a few days ago. Even after the initial shock passes and he manages to drag himself out of his stupor and onto his own rock, he can't find any words to speak or to write; he just keeps staring at it in complete puzzlement. It stares back at him, it's gaze flicking curiously to the blank page in front of him every so often almost. After what feels like an eternity it huffs and flops over on it's side, seemingly having decided that it would rather nap than continue their stare-off. Fit begins his journal entry in uneasy silence, trying his best to let the scratching of the pencil on the page distract him from the anomaly next to him. Unfortunately, said anomaly doesn't tolerate the cold shoulder for long before snorting offendedly at him.

"What?" Fit raises an eyebrow at it. There's a beat before it snorts again, slapping it's front flippers loudly against the wet rocks. "You- oh, what, you want me to talk to you? Is that it?" It grunts softly. Fit blinks, his mouth opening and closing around words that don't come. "I mean I- I don't really uh. I mean, I'm just kinda speechless right now." And ok, that's an understatement - he feels completely disoriented, his entire world having been flipped on its head. This seal was dead, it had to have been, that was the only possible explanation for the way everything had lined up. Except apparently it wasn't, because the seal was alive and it was looking straight into his eyes with that disturbingly human intelligence shining through its own. As the gears in his head start turning, trying valiantly to come up with something to say, some pieces start to fall into place.

The pelt, Pac's freak-out and subsequent disappearance, the seal acting like someone's lost pet and not a wild predator, Pac having no traceable presence on the island but appearing every day, both of them missing a limb - little dots swimming around in his head, moving too quickly for him to connect, forming a fragment of something that Fit doesn't think he could handle knowing in full. He nearly slips and breaks his neck in his mad scramble off of his perch, startling the seal - or whatever this thing was. He ignores it's concerned cry and backs away slowly, a dizzying dread creeping slowly over him as his attempts to think of any logical explanation for the ever-growing pile of mysteries come up completely empty.

Various half-formed theories run through his mind as he speeds through the short walk back to the cabin: Was the seal Pac's pet? Was it some robotic creation of his? Did he kill it and do some fucked up death magic on it? Was he the seal? Was he a shape shifter, or- or some kind of hypnotist? Had the whole thing just been an illusion? A dream? Was Fit finally going insane?

Yeah, that's gotta be it he thought as he made his way through the door, being sure to close it quietly so as to not wake Ramon. I've finally fucking lost it. There was no way Pac was - whatever it was that Fit's psyche was convinced he was. That seal was a normal, if weirdly friendly seal, and there was a completely rational explanation for everything that Fit was just too dumb to catch onto. Pac was probably just freaked out by the implication of the seal's death, and maybe the pelt had just been an incredibly convincing fake. Yeah, that was it, definitely. Fit pointedly ignored the voices in his head that screamed all of the ways that that didn't make any sense as he stumbled his way through his nightly routine and into bed - it made enough sense that he was fine letting it be not his problem anymore. He was much more interested in getting a good night's sleep than in spiraling into a frenzy over something that probably didn't matter in the slightest

.....Or not. Apparently, whatever part of his brain he didn't have control over greatly overpowered the part that was sane and rational, combined with all of the exhaustion in his body. He sighed as he begrudgingly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the shadows that flickered across his wooden ceiling. He could already tell this was gonna give him hell. He had never been someone who could take it easy, not even before the sounds of gunfire and explosions and the heavy stench of blood-soaked dirt had made themselves a permanent part of his world. This certainly wasn't the first time since that he had questioned his perception of reality; in fact, he was quite familiar with being disconnected from it, the way that it could bend around the most damaged parts of him and twist his mind back into a shape that no longer fit in the present. He sometimes heard gunshots when there was no one to fire them, screaming in his ear while he slept at night - It wasn't far-fetched at all to write this off as the conspiratorial delusions of a soldier taken off the battlefield too late. But, something about it just kept nagging at him, urging him to look deeper even if he couldn't handle it. Finally, after what had to be hours of tossing and turning in his sheets, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The spiral only pulled at him harder the next morning, as he made his early morning rounds and reports, harder still as he made his way back to the house and made breakfast. By the time he woke up Ramon he was wishing he still had hair on his head just so he could pull it out. His boy, of course, noticed his mood immediately.

"...What? What is it?" Fit asked as the kid stared at him flatly over his scrambled eggs and toast.

"Something is bothering you." Ramon pointed his fork at him. "Tell me." Fit sighed; that was his son, blunt as ever. He briefly contemplated spinning a lie to ease his mind, but wrote it off as soon as he remembered that his baby boy was a genius that, unfortunately, knew him far too well.

"It's nothing, Ramon, don't worry about it. Eat your eggs." Ramon dropped his fork loudly onto the table, not breaking eye contact. He looked unimpressed.

"Fit." There was silence as they stared at each other from across the table, both plates forgotten as they engaged in some sort of psychological battle that Fit felt he had a distinct disadvantage in somehow. After a long few minutes he turned his gaze away with a resigned grunt, knowing from an abundance of experience that there was no use in resisting Ramon's questioning - The kid was determined, and he had a way of getting things out of Fit that he sometimes didn't even want to admit to himself. He swallows a mouthful of his suddenly very bland tasting eggs, trying to think of how to start.

"You wouldn't happen to have any books that talk about seals, would you?" Is what he eventually settles on. Ramon blink at him in confusion, seemingly thrown off by the turn of the conversation. "It's- well, it might be nothing. It's probably nothing, But." He takes a deep breath, admitting to weakness is a difficult task that Fit has always had to push himself greatly to accomplish; he's been trying to work through it for his young boy's sake. "There's just been some stuff happening around here that I can't figure out and that's kinda the only place I can think to start looking, you know what I mean? It's nothing you need to worry about though, I promise." Ramon fiddles with the frayed bauble of his favorite red hat as he hums, thinking.

"I think a couple of the animal encyclopedias that you got me mention them, but nothing too detailed. What's been happening with the seals?" Fit takes another nauseating bite to buy himself time to consider his answer.

"I've just... been thinking about the fur we found," he says carefully, praying that It won't be a sensitive topic. Thankfully, Ramon doesn't seem fazed, only raising his eyebrows a bit as he waits for his father to continue. "I was sure it was from one of those ones that like to hang around here, and we were only seeing five of them for the past few days so I thought - someone must have hunted it, you know? But there's been no one here but us and Richas' parents, and then last night the seal that was missing showed back up and." He cuts off his ramble as he notices the strange look Ramon is giving him. "What? Do you think I'm going crazy or something?"

"Pac said he gave the seal it's skin back, remember?" He says plainly, like it makes complete sense. Fit balks at him, mouth open in disbelief. Ramon had.... Ramon believed that? But he was so smart for a kid his age, he had even called Fit out for pretending it wasn't dead! Had he just.... decided to believe Pac? Was this his way of coping?

"You, uh. What?" He responds eloquently. Ramon looks at him like he's grown a second head, and ok, now Fit is definitely going crazy. Since when does his little boy genius believe that one can simply give a dead animal it's skin back and bring it back to life?

"He gave it back." He draws out every word, as if he's the adult explaining a simple concept to a child. "The seal is fine. Richarlyson said it took Pac on adventures with it to thank him." He sniffs petulantly. "Kinda think he should have invited me, but whatever. It's all ok, see! Just like you said." Fit has no idea what to say, completely lost. This conversation had done nothing but add another layer of headache to the already impressive thorn in his side. He nods slowly, deciding to just let it go for the sake of the little sanity he has left.

"Right, ok. That makes sense, I guess." As far as he's concerned, if Ramon is happy there's no issue. That's what he tells himself at least, and to his credit it is mostly true. Ramon knows better though, and he levels Fit with a look that tells him as much. After a moment he returns his attention to his plate, looking bored with the topic of conversation.

"Richas said Pac is gonna be back to see you today. I'm gonna ask him all about it, you can listen if you want to." Fit startles a bit. Pac was coming back? "And if that doesn't answer your questions, maybe you should try checking all those old journals we found to see if they say anything useful?" Right, the archived journals from previous lighthouse attendants - Fit had completely forgotten about them, locked away as mementos in a storage room at the bottom of the lighthouse itself. He hadn't spared them a thought since he and Ramon had been shown them on their first day on the island. That was as good a place to look as any, he supposed. He makes a mental note to do so later tonight, when he's done with his work for the day.

"Yeah that's a good idea actually, thank you Ramon. You're damn smart, you know that?" Ramon nods easily, and Fit cracks a smile for the first time since his worldview had been upturned the night before. "Anyway, you say Pac is coming back today?" He tries not to sound too eager, though he doesn't think he does very well - he's missed his friend, what could he say? The manual labor was much more grueling without company, he had realized. It had been hard doing it alone again after having gotten used to Pac (and on semi-frequent occasion, Mike's) company over the past few months. Even when he had suspected the other man of being the dreaded poacher, a concept he had now completely written off as too out of character to be reliable, he had been more sad about the possibility of having to turn him in than about the actual poaching - although he definitely had been sad about that too. Ramon looks like he's stifling a laugh.

"That's what Richarlyson said. He said his other parents were making him do it today." Fit doesn't have time to question why Pac apparently needed someone to make him come back after his "adventure" before Ramon is getting up from the table with an exclamation of "done!" and running out to the beach, leaving his dirty dishes to Fit and ignoring as he calls after him, of course.

He finishes cleaning up and gets outside to join him just in time to see Richarlyson running eagerly up to the other boy, Pac following behind him at a much more casual pace. He can't help frombreaking into another smile as he draws closer, black waves dripping wet (as always) and a familiar grin lighting up his face.

"Oi!" He calls out across the remaining distance. Pac wastes no time in calling back to him, speeding up his walk a bit as Richarlyson reaches his target and tackles him into a hug. Fit decides to leave them to their own devices for the moment, setting his own pace towards his approaching friend and meeting him in the middle. "Where have you been?" Pac's smile turns sheepish, and Fit's eyes flick to the way his teeth nervously pull at his lip for a moment before he speaks.

"I was feeling really sick, I think I must have caught something from touching that pelt! I was throwing up and having a- a fever, you know how it is," He looks to Fit almost bashfully, like he's fully aware Fit isn't buying it. Fit, for all he's been agonizing over the possibility of Pac being.... something, suddenly finds that he doesn't really care. The seal is alive, Richarlyson is safe - whatever Pac was doing is his business. He's just happy to have some adult company again. Before he can say as much, not that he would have, Ramon comes running up from behind him, stopping short in front of Pac with elation tangible in his demeanor.

"PAC! Richas says you went on an adventure with the seal who's skin we found, what was it like? TELL ME!" Pac laughs, startled, and crouches down to meet the boy's eyes, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair through his hat.

"Yeah, it was amazing! I gave the seal his fur back and he was like 'oh wow thank you so much! come swim with me!' And he took me to his home in the kelp forest and introduced me to all his fish friends! We even saw some- ah, I forget how you say it in English - The big guys with the claws... LOBSTERS! yeah, we saw some lobsters! And they were fighting each other with SWORDS! Oh it was so cool Ramon, I wish you could have seen it. Hey, maybe I can ask him to take you next time!" Ramon's giggles stop abruptly as he gasps in excitement, eyes lighting up as he begins pleading with Pac to do so. Fit shakes his head fondly.

There's a soft look in Pac's eyes as he speaks animatedly to Ramon, recounting his epic underwater adventures with the dramatic flair of a man who's very used to entertaining children. And yeah, Fit decides as brown eyes stray momentarily to share an amused look with him, none of it matters. He'll look at those journals later to see if there's any mention of seal pelts or strange men appearing out of nowhere, but in the meantime he couldn't care less - he has his work buddy back, his son is happy, the weather is nice and no seals have been harmed.

Maybe he can take it easy, just this once. For now.

#selkie au #fitpac #god dammit fuck this took so long #not editing this shit fuck that you'll take my inconsistent tenses and you'll LIKE IT #asks #also for the record i am probably going to turn this into a multi-chapter fic I just have to. figurre out how to do that lollll #feel free to keep sending asks i'm having so much fun

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sadbeautifulttragic · 10 months

Text

long limbs and frozen swims, you'd always go past where our feet could touch...(x)

#Taylor swift #taylorswift #tswift #tswiftedit #my edits #the eras tour #eras tour #2023 #performances #q

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strangerquinns · 2 years

Note

Steve x reader angst that just destroys you! With 16,34,38,48. Rip my heart out!

Steve Harrington x Reader | 1.2k+

Steve thought he'd understood pain and loss. But that was until that night at Starcourt on the fourth of July.

“Please don’t leave me.” / “Hurts.” “I know. It’s going to hurt some more, okay? Deep breaths. I'm sorry- I’m so sorry-”/ “Easy there, don’t move too quickly- you lost a lot of blood.”/ “Get out of my head!” // send me angst prompts // stranger things masterlist

For a moment everyone thought they had won. That the monster was defeated and the threat was over. But once the smoke settled it wasn't long before everyone realized that they had lost. The once pristine mall was destroyed. It was eerie to hear the pop tunes playing through the speaker system with the deformed monster lying dead in the middle.

Steve could hear the ringing from the power of the fireworks against his eardrums as he searched through the smoke for you. From afar he heard Max's screams for her older brother but that wasn't his primary concern or worry. One moment you were beside him as they raced back into the mall to save Eleven from Billy and the Mindflayer. But in the chaos of it all, you'd gotten separated.

"Steve! Steve!" Robin's shrill voice broke through, his head snapping in the direction of her voice. Something about the tone of her voice was making his stomach twist. "Steve!"

Quickly Steve ran to the other side of the courtyard and was welcomed to his worst nightmare.

You lay amongst the rubble with your limbs twisted as you struggled to catch your breath. Your eyes stared up toward the ceiling unfocused as blood pooled beneath you turning the once-white tile red. Steve felt frozen. He thought for sure this was all a nightmare and he was going to wake soon. To be lying in bed with you tucked beside him. Wrapping in the warmth of your embrace, enough to make the memory of this go away.

But that never came. He never woke up. This was happening.

"Steve! Please!" Robin screamed, snapping him out of his daze.

It was then he noticed the tears running down his friend's face. Her short brown hair was disheveled and her uniform stained with your blood.

Quickly his feet led him to you before he dropped down on his knees beside you. It was like the movement was able to help you focus for a second. A pained smile spread across your paling lips when you saw who was beside you.

He knew that he was going to have to be strong for you at this moment and not let his emotions show. But his hands shook as he reached to caress your face before looking down at the gaping wound in your side.

Robin had already taken off her work vest and placed it against your side to try and alleviate the bleeding. But it wasn't working. The blue of the vest was now a deep burgundy purple. It wasn't stopping much with your blood seeping through Robin's fingers. Steve quickly worked off his vest to add it to hers.

"What happened?" Steve asked, his voice tight and strained.

"She pushed me out of the w-wa-way. The M-Monster...Mindflayer...it's tentacle was coming at me...b-but she pushed me away." Robin explained as tears streamed down her face and she fought back her sobs.

"S-Steve," You spoke again, your hand coming up to grab his arm.

His head moved quickly to look at you. You frowned when you saw his face. Seeing his brown eyes swimming with tears. Steve was pressing his lips together so tightly they were barely visible. You could tell by his face that he was trying to act strong, giving off that nothing was bothering him.

But you saw through it.

You opened your mouth a few times to speak, but nothing was coming out. Your chest felt tight with an intense pain that seemed to come over you in waves.

Your body was also getting cold.

So so cold.

"Shhh...shhh...It's ok, baby," Steve cleared his throat as his voice cracked, "Save your strength ok? You gotta k-keep your s-stre-strength..." He turned back to Robin, "We need to tie around her waist, get the bleeding to s-stop...g-go and get something. Quick!"

Robin nodded and scrambled onto her feet before running off in search of something.

But it was too late.

Steve knew it.

Robin knew it.

You knew it.

You shifted slightly and screamed out in pain as you felt more of your body start to tear apart.

“Easy there, don’t move too quickly- you lost a lot of blood,” Steve spoke, moving to press you back down as you tried to sit up.

You cried out and let out a whine as you fell back against the floor. Your vision began to blur with tears, "Hurts,"

“I know. It’s going to hurt some more, okay?" Steve pressed harder on the wound, causing you to scream out in pain. He hated that he wa hurting you more, but he wasn't ready to give up on you yet. "Deep breaths. I'm sorry- I’m so sorry-”

Your hand tightened around his forearm to get him to focus back on you again. "Steve...S-S-Steve..."

When he looked at you, Steve finally felt his heartbreak. Piece by piece it began to crack away as he saw the finality in your eyes.

"No...No...." Steve shook his head, letting his emotions win as he began to cry harder, "You can't leave me, no-not now baby...please...you can't..."

"I-I..." You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain winning quickly

But Steve calling out your name, the pain in his voice, pulled you back as you stared up at him.

"Stay awake...ple-please...Please don’t leave me.” He moved closer to you, pressing his forehead against yours, "I lo-love you, please baby, please..."

"I-I'm s-s-sorry," Your lips quivered slightly, your voice so weak. You groaned for a moment "I-I love you...a-always loved you s-so much."

Steve whimpered and pressed his face into your neck, feeling his body shake as the sobs took over his body. He wanted to hold you one last time. Feel the weight of you against him. Steve shifted to bring you into his lap and whispered soft apologies when you whimpered.

You stared up at him trying to quickly commit his face to memory.

You were happy the last thing you were going to see was going to be the love of your life.

Steve softly caressed your face and wiped away the tears that ran down along your temple.

He whispered sweet nothings and words of devotion to you.

He felt as your final breath passed through your lips.

At that moment a part of Steve Harrington died as he held you - his cries so loud it echoed through the mall.

Steve awoke with a shock as cold sweat dripped down his back and forehead. His chest rose with the harsh labored breaths as the dream still fogged over his mind slightly. Steve's brown eyes looked around his room frantically for a moment as reality came back to him.

It wasn't long before his labored breaths were replaced with his sobs. His hands reached up to cover his face as his shoulders shook with each cry.

"Get out of my head," He screamed to an empty room, his voice breaking.

It has nearly been a year since your death and each night he was plagued with the nightmares of that night.

People tried to tell him that grief and pain got better with time. But it only got worse.

Steve sniffled and reached up to wipe his tears, but when he wiped away at his nose, he was taken aback by the red.

Blood was dripping down from his nose.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington concept #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things angst #mmm…don’t know if I like this as much #like the idea was there but idk

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thegoblinboy · 10 months

Text

based on this fantastic post I decided to make my own post for it as well because I most likely have nothing ready for today besides this lmao

Eddie’s hair shines loosely against his shoulders and against his forehead, with loose strands that fall into his mouth no matter how many times he brushes them back with his fingers. It’s frustrating, constantly sticking his tongue out with a light flush to his cheeks to pull one tiny strand of hair out.

Water droplets falling down from his eyelashes finding their way home in the dip of his collarbones. The river water barely brushed up against his hips, pushing its way past him and reminding him that the world was in fact still moving around them. Not frozen in time as he stares at the prettiest boy alive.

Scratch that, the prettiest thing in the entire universe with his hairy chest, wide nervous eyes, the deep v-line above his swim shorts and most importantly the scar that connected the king with the freak.

That connection runs deep as Eddie stays planted in his spot. Refusing to let his own discomfort remove his attention from Steve’s. Pulling on an invisible string wrapped around the other boy, tugging him deeper and deeper into the cold dark water. Watching the other's reactions to make sure he didn’t push him too far, only seeing light amusement in the other's eyes as he, for the numerous time pulls a strand of hair out of his mouth.

“You know I do have hair ties in the van?” Steve says with a deep chuckle. Hands staying on the surface of the water as he moves forward, fingers tapping the water gently causing soft ripples to dance out into the night.

“Yeah, yeah - now come on big boy come to daddy,” Eddie grins, knowing that his personality can flow freely with the other. Not afraid to be himself, knowing that whatever they had going on right now was keeping him warm in the cold night.

“Oh shut up-” Steve laughs, nose scrunching up a bit as he takes another slow step. Losing his balance and nearly stumbling face-first in the water. Water splashes as his limbs fight to regain balance, gagging as he moves his foot away from the area that had mushier sand. His heart races as his anxiety and the hairs on his arms stick up. His hands shake against the water as his breathing picks up. Nearly drowning in the memories of Watergate. Only to be forcefully pulled out by Eddie, whose hands land gently against his shoulders.

Body moving so close that Steve could feel his body heat, the other rings causing pink goosebumps to form where ever they touch. Eyes hazy and distant only to refocus when the others hand find its way to the right side of his face. Grounding him, being his rock but not drowning him in the deep river.

“Do you need to get out?” Eddie asks softly, voice deep and raspy. Steve can see another strand of hair falling forward and landing in his mouth again as he spoke. Curls move around the night sky as the wind hits them both. Tempting to blow the foundation that the two have built over the past few months. Eddie acts unfazed by the wind, by the strand of hair that tickled the back of his throat. To focused on the other to care.

Eyes flickering down at the other's mouth, he moves his thumb and gently pulls the strand of hair out for the other. Before looking back up at the other with a soft smile. Eyes beginning to sparkle brighter than the stars above as he shakes his head no. Words dying in his lungs, unable to move up to his throat and be spoken. So much and not enough was happening all at once as their eyes meet. He, for the first time in a long time, was drowning in something other than fear. Something new and exciting as it lights his lungs aflame and nips his veins with electricity that bleeds out into this moment. Spreading its way to Eddie causing an intense fog to wrap itself around both of their heads.

Eddie moves his hands down off from the other's shoulders. Carefully wrapping themselves around the other's wrists, sliding down to tangle their fingers together as he slowly starts to back up. Static pumps its way to Steves rambling brain as he begins to move forward, his eyes landing back down on the other's rosy lips. Knowing exactly what he wants, willing to walk through his biggest fear for it. Letting Eddie pull him in deeper, literally and figuratively. It was like he was under a spell as the water brushes against his chest. The deepest he has gone since the night he got pulled down watergate. He would celebrate, and yell for all to hear but he thinks he knows that Eddie was going to reward him with something better.

They both take shaky breaths, unable to function normally when they were this close to each other. Eddie finally stops when the waterline is up underneath their armpits. Eye contact never breaking as he smiles brighter than the moon. Moving his hands from the others, sliding them up, and feeling the way the other shivers. Both their faces moving closer and closer as Eddie’s hands hold the others back. Pulling the other closer into his orbit as they blink slowly. His right-hand moves up to the other's hair experimentally, the water from between his fingers getting the other's hair damp for the first time that night. Rings loosely tangling themselves in the small tail on the back of the other's neck.

Eddie felt like he needed to get on his toes, even though they were the same height. He doesn’t. Instead, he leans back and pulls the other closer as he feels his hair float in the dark water. Pulling the other closer and closer, watching the other tilt his head gently as their lips brush for the first time. There aren’t fireworks, but there is a home that is slowly starting to build. One that Eddie knows will keep him safe for the rest of their days.

Lips collide, gentle and skimming to make sure this was fine. Trying to understand what the other wanted, no what the other needed. And what they needed was to be closer. Impossibly close to the point they were one entity.

The string finally snaps as Steve pushes himself against the other harder, deeper into the water as he kisses Eddie like he was the oxygen he breathed. A soft giggle leaving one of them as their teeth hit against each other, letting themselves learn and keep going as Eddie’s hand moves back down against the other's back.

Allowing the other to push him deeper and deeper. Truth be told Eddie wants the other to drown him with his love, like this for the rest of their life’s. Allowing the other to take all of him for what felt like seconds.

Pulling back, lungs burn as foreheads stick together. Arms wrapped around each other, Steve’s finding their way down to hold the trim of the other's shorts. Pulling the other as close as possible. The realization that like that night on the boat, when he was dragged into the water his life was changed forever. This time for the better as he cant help but hold a loopy smile on his face.

“I did it.” He breathes out as if he has been holding his breath the entire time since Watergate. Smiling grows on his face as he keeps his eyes closed. Not needing to look at the other to know Eddie’s facial expression matched his own. Even with the other in front of him, he could see him behind his eyelids.

“You did, you fucking kicked waters ass Stevie,”

im really positive that this is my first time writing Steddie kissing lmao

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #first kiss #steddies first kiss #steve still holds a lot of trauma with the water #Eddie tries to help him the best he can #I am so proud of this ngl #soft steddie

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taylor-swift-bracket · 14 days

Text

🎇Please reblog!🎇

Comment your favorite bridges!

Notable Bridges

(Under the cut)

evermore

champagne problems

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door

November flush and your flannel cure

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

How evergreen, our group of friends

Don't think we'll say that word again

And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls

That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show

I never was ready so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don't know the answer

'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride

What a shame she's f*cked in the head," they said

But you'll find the real thing instead

She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

ivy

So yeah, it's a fire

It's a violent blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the fiercest fight of my life

And you started it

You started it

tolerate it

While you were out buildin' other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I'm beggin' for footnotes in the story of your life

Drawin' hearts in the byline

Always takin' up too much space or time

You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I

marjorie

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

right where you left me

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

How it was supposed to be

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Breakups happen every day, you don't have to lose it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

And you're sitting in front of me

Midnights

Hits Different

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

God rest my soul

I miss who I used to be

The tomb won't close

Stained glass windows in my mind

I regret you all the time

I can't let this go

I fight with you in my sleep

The wound won't close

I keep on waiting for a sign

I regret you all the time

You’re Losing Me

How long could we be a sad song

'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life?

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me

I'm the best thing at this party (You're losin' me)

And I wouldn't marry me either

A pathological people pleaser

Who only wanted you to see her

And I'm fadin', thinkin'

"Do something, babe, say something" (Say something)

"Lose something, babe, risk something" (You're losin' me)

"Choose something, babe, I got nothing" (I got nothing)

"To believe, unless you're choosin' me"

You’re On Your Own Kid

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this

I hosted parties and starved my body

Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money

My friends from home don't know what to say

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown

And I saw something they can't take away

'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned

Everything you lose is a step you take

So, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it

You've got no reason to be afraid

Anti-Hero

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out

"She's laughing up at us from Hell"

youtube

#taylor swift #taylor swift poll #poll #my polls #swifties #midnights #evermore #Youtube

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danosrosegarden · 11 months

Note

helloooo!!!! :3

so i had this idea pop in my head and i would love to see what you do with it!

So basically edward most certainly has an account on onlyfans to see women on there i just feel it in my bones, but anyway his favorite account on there is the reader’s….and let’s say one day she just randomly moves in next to him? he’s freaking. the. FUCK. OUT. i mean his favorite onlyfans model moving next to HIM?? oh he’s creaming his pants forrr sureee, anyway she’s just the sweetest person ever and interact with him (and he’s just there profusely sweating like “she’s talking to me???”) whenever she’s lucky to get to see him come out of his apartment like for example he’s leaving for work and she’s making her way outside aswell to run some errands, and the more they’re getting close and being friends she invites him to her apartment for food or drinks and he’s just flipping the fuck out because he loves her (and her OF content) so much, and that leads to smut 🤭

and i dont know maybe…. one day he could appear in some of her OF content….. if he wanted to of course

anyway have an amazing and lovely day/night!

<3333333

Girl Next Door - Edward Nashton x Camgirl!Reader Headcannons (NSFW)

Contains: descriptions of masturbation and camming. Also, a jealous and somewhat delusional Eddie.

Note: return of the camgirl! I truly love this dynamic. I know this concept has been done before with Eddie, so I tried to be original as could be.

♡ "Excuse me, sir? Could you lend a hand for a moment?" Edward's blood runs frosty, his limbs frozen solid as he watches you struggle with your boxes in front of your apartment door. The contents inside clatter about in loud cymbal crashes. There's no fucking way.

♡ The shine coating your hair is the same shine he's seen late at night on his laptop. The curves of your hips are the same curves he's got his eye on as he pumps his cock with a tight grip. The curl of your pouted lips, the bat of your long lashes, hell, the sparkling color of your nails...it's really you, isn't it?

♡ It takes every fluid ounce of strength flowing through his body for him to not jump for joy. He was on his way to the store, but groceries could wait. "Uh, yes, of course," he coughs, scrambling to help hold the boxes.

♡ "Thank you," you say. "I'm new to Gotham. You're actually the first person I've really interacted with." Oh, how heartbreaking. A sugar-sweet angel like you shouldn't have to have her blood pumped and tainted with the filth of this city. If only I could find a way to protect her...to hold her close to me, then nothing bad could happen...

♡ As it turns out, you live two doors away from Edward. You offer a warm smile as you enter your apartment and close the door. Edward nods and rushes back to his own place, instantly peeling his pants away and frantically pulling out his cock. He's grasping at the faint notes of your perfume still swimming around in his nostrils.

♡ Regular porn didn't do it for him. Everything was so...stiff. The moans pouring from the women's mouths reeked of plastic. Fake. That's what it all was. The concept of paying for what he liked seemed more appealing. After all, these were real girls in the comfort of their own homes. Real pleasure. He liked seeing that.

♡ It didn't take long to find you...and he was smitten. You were a real life doll, overflowing with enchanting beauty, soft skin dripping with grace. Your moans were luscious and candy-coated. And besides all that, he could tell you were really enjoying yourself each time you appeared on camera. Oh, how he wished he could hear those groans in person and feel them dissolve on his tongue. How he wished he could just reach out and touch that smooth skin, tug on that soft hair...and now you were here. It felt like a fluffy-clouded dream.

♡ He imagined it with his eyes squeezed shut and his fist gliding up and down, his cock throbbing and glossy with precum. You would invite him over for dinner one night. After all, he was the only person you knew in Gotham. Something about that excited him. You would open the door and Edward's breath would snake out of him, floored by your bewitching allure.

♡ The night would wax and wane to the tune of wine-soaked laughter and stolen glances. "You're so cute, Eddie!" you'd say. "I just want to eat you up!"

♡ A breathy whimper slid from his mouth as he pumped faster, thinking of how small brushes of the hand would turn into grazing up and down his sensitive sides. How that would morph to the shedding of clothes, the soft click of kisses, the candied sound of your moans as you slid down onto him.

♡ He was always jealous of the comments you'd respond to while playing with yourself. Every "you're so pretty" turned his blood a deeper shade of furious red. Each "I want to fuck you" made his heart race with rage. You were supposed to be just for him. His little secret.

♡ "Mine," he growled lowly, tugging desperately, feeling his high draw closer. "Mine." Maybe one day you'd let him come on camera with you...then he'd really show those pigs what they could never have.

♡ Hot cum wept from his tip as his breath hitched in his knotted throat. He did feel a twinge of guilt rip through his organs for a split second afterwards...you had barely spoken two words to him, and here he was, leaking all over his clenched fist from the thought of you.

♡ He couldn't afford to wallow in his pathetic disgrace for too long, though...he had a mission now. It was time to make his dream girl his reality.

#Eli’s writing #Danonation #Paul Dano #Edward Nashton #The Riddler #The Batman #Edward Nashton x reader #The Riddler x reader #Edward Nashton x you #The Riddler x you #Edward Nashton x Y/N #The Riddler x Y/N

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shallyne · 1 month

Text

You're Alive In My Head

A new fic for @throneofglassmicrofics and one of my favorites I think! based on the song Marjorie by Taylor Swift.

Prompt: Memory

Words: 966

TW: pre-canon death, mourning, grief

“Never be so kind, you forget to be clever and never be so clever, you forget to be kind.” Aelin’s mother said. She had heard this alot, from teachers and her father, even Aedion, but when her mother taught her, it was special in a way Aelin couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way Evalin Galathynius was gentle enough that she didn’t turn away out of spite but strict enough that Aelin had to listen.

Aelin wanted to ask questions but when she opened her mouth no sound came out. Clawing at her throat, she looked at her mom but when she looked up, her mother kneeled in front of her and with a shock Aelin realized she could see the wall behind her mother, through her mother,

“My brave girl,” her mother whispered as she touched Aelins’s cheek, a phantom touch she couldn’t feel, slowly dissolving into thin air. There was nothing Aelin could do to help, she couldn’t even scream for help.. She couldn’t stand up to hug her one last time, she could only watch her mother vanish.

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were talking to me now

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, you're alive in my head

Aelin awoke startled in an empty bed. It was early morning, the sun just rising. Rowan was probably on one of his early morning trips, not expecting her to wake up this early.Sitting up, she touched her cheek just where her mother had in her dream and it had felt so real that her own hand was shaking. The smell of her mother’s perfume still was embedded in her.

Breathing became difficult and before she could think twice, Aelin grabbed her cloak and a pair of boots and went out. Luckily the palace was still asleep, mostly, and she knew which corridors she had to avoid to meet anyone.

It was quick to leave and grab a horse, leaving unnoticed and as she was riding towards sunrise, she remembered another lesson many years ago.

“Never be so polite, you forget your power and never wield such power, you forget to be polite.” her mother quietly said as Aelin was cuddled against her, munching on a cookie she had stolen from the kitchen.

She looked up at her mother, meeting her eyes, the same shade as hers. “What does that mean?”

Her mother smiled, softly caressing Aelin’s golden mane of hair, “I asked the same thing when I was your age, Fireheart, and no one gave me a satisfying answer. But I’ll have to tell you the same: you will find out when you’re older.”

“I want to know now!”

“I know, Fireheart,” Evalin Galathynius replied, her thumb sliding to her face and caressing Aelin’s cheek. “I know.”

And if I didn't know better,

Aelin reached her destination and she climbed off her horse, binding in on a nearby tree, walking down a little path she had dreaded to walk since she had entered Terrasen after ten years until she reached a gated patch amidst the trees.

“Hello,” she said the graves with a breaking voice, etched on them Evalin Ashryver Galathynius and Rhoe Galathynius.

The wind caressing her as if in response.

I'd think you were listening to me now.

It was the first two hours that Aelin broke down and told them everything that had happened since she woke up that dreadful night in her parents bed. Everything bad and everything good. She cried and got mad and mourned all of the fallen who had fought for a better world once more. She hasn’t told them everything of course because if she had included details she would be here for a week. Although, at this moment it felt like her parents listened and she would have stayed a week if that feeling would’ve stayed but the feeling vanished the more the world woke up around her.

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

Aelin let herself fall on the grass, looking up at the sky. A chill crept up her spine as the autumn cold and her decision to not wear a garderobe appropriate for autumn weather caught up to her, that wouldn’t get her to leave though. Not yet.

Turning her head to the gravestones, she said, “I should have asked you more questions. Both of you. I should have asked you how to do this and…” she swallowed. “I should have asked to write it down or something. I wish I could have kept everything.” a tear rolled down her cheek.”They took everything, everything from you. Every little scrap was taken.”

The wind howled around her, mixing with the singing of the few birds that haven’t traveled south yet.

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were singing to me now

Aelin stayed like that, silent, for a few more minutes before she stood up groaning and knelt one last time before her parent’s graves. “Next time I’ll bring you stones. I’m sorry, I just had to talk to you.” she whispered, pressing her hands against both gravestones. “I love you so much.”

I know better

But I still feel you all around

Against the cold, Aelin pulled her cloak closer together and walked back to her horse and once settled on the mare, she looked up the pine tree at the green eyed hawk, “Let’s go home, buzzard.” she said hoarsely.

And as she rode back home, her mate was flying above her, guarding her. She didn’t mind, she was actually glad he was there.

That they were together.

#throne of glass #throne of glass microfics #tog #rowaelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver whitethorn galathynius #aelin fireheart #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fan fiction #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fic #tog fanfiction #tog fan fiction #tog fanfic #tog fic #taylor swift

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taylorswifttournament · 10 days

Text

Lyrics under the cut

marjorie

The autumn chill that wakes me up You loved the amber skies so much Long limbs and frozen swims You'd always go past where our feet could touch And I complained the whole way there The car ride back and up the stairs I should've asked you questions I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me Watched as you signed your name Marjorie All your closets of backlogged dreams And how you left them all to me

I Bet You Think About Me

Oh, block it all out The voices so loud, sayin' "Why did you let her go?" Does it make you feel sad That the love that you're lookin' for Is the love that you had?

#taylor swift #polls #best bridge #marjorie #i bet you think about me

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bleachedduck · 6 months

Text

"The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be