#gotta have a clove day
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nf i don't want to take a day off tomorrow.
#it's been almost a month i gotta#gotta have a clove day#for my hands#what will i even DO#i am BUSY#MY MACHINATIONS#personal
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Kinktober 2024: October 7th
Day 7: Bruising or Bitemarks // Virgin // Ice Play
Agent Whiskey x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Vaginal sex, cock riding, biting, hickies, begging, submissive Whiskey, teasing
|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
âUh, Whiskey?â Jack looks up from examining the amber tone of the newest batch of Statesman that had been un-barrelled and bottled, sniffing the oaky rich notes and was satisfied with the hint of cloves and honey. It will be a good vintage, one that he had personally crafted and he was just about to put it to his lips to taste when heâs interrupted.Â
Looking up, he finds Champ, aka Agent Champagne, his boss - staring at his neck. Making him frown at the bewildered and slightly bemused expression on the older manâs face. âWhat is it?â He asks, setting down the glass and reaching up, his brows pulling together even more when he feels a tender abrasion that has been exposed as his collar moved down, pulled tighter as he had sat. Making his own embarrassment bloom on his face as he realizes what Champ is staring at.Â
****
âFuuuuuuuck, sugar.â Itâs hotter than fucking Satanâs ass in the middle of July, but heâs not going to even fucking complain. Your sweat slick body writhing on top of him, your cunt wrapped around his cock, bouncing on it so expertly that it makes his toes curl every time you settle on him. His head tips back, eyes closed as you kiss down his jaw.Â
You hum, the sound almost a growl as you reach up and start to tangle your fingers into his sweaty hair, holding onto him like you are riding a bull. Putting a little more roll into your hips as your teeth come out and you scrap them over his skin.Â
âOh shit.â Jack hisses, his cock twitching in an instinctive reaction to your little nip and making you giggle.Â
âYou like that, baby?â You coo, your voice dripping with sex and honey, just the way he likes it. You nibble at his throat again and he moans softly, his cock jolting inside your walls again. Even if he denies it, his body is telling you that he loves what youâre doing.Â
âHmmmmm.â You smirk and open your mouth wider, letting your teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of his neck, right above the pulse and dig in.Â
Your name falls as a whimper from his lips, his own fingers digging impossibly tight into your hips. Holding you there rather than trying to push you away. You know Jack is stronger than you are, you have seen him in action. If he didnât want this, he could easily stop it.Â
The fact that he doesnât makes you feral. Sucking and biting more and more. The same spot over and over again until he is wearing an impression of your teeth in the smooth, tanned skin of his vulnerable throat. A bruise is already starting to bloom under the surface from where the pressure of your mouth has broken capillaries.Â
âGoddamn.â He pants, rocking his hips up into you, needing and wanting more of your cunt while you lose yourself in the taste of his sweat and the beauty of marking his body as your own. âSugar, you gotta- I need-âÂ
He whines again when your tongue presses at the hollow of his throat, your teeth scraping over his Adamâs apple. Heâs never been one to give up too much control, but right now, itâs like youâve lassoed him to the bed and he can do nothing more than bed for you. Chills racing up his spin every time your teeth bite into his flesh and his body pulls tight in pleasure.Â
âI know what you need.â You tease, lapping at the latest mark and then deciding to suck on it again. Enjoying the tightening of his core and the melting of his limbs as you put another set of bitemarks to his shoulder after youâre satisfied with one right above his collarbone.Â
His chest becomes your canvas, your mouth the paintbrush. Bruises and impressions start to form a pattern over his skin. Making him whine and squirm ever more, groaning in protest when you actually pull off his cock so you can move down his body.Â
Another bruise on his hip bone, making sure that it will be vivid when it fully forms, imagining the way it will look when his low slung jeans rest right below it. It makes your now empty cunt clench around nothing and you moan before you move to give him a matching mark on the right side.Â
Jack Daniel whines when you bite right next to the base of his cock. You donât apply as much pressure as you do on the less sensitive areas, but the shudder of his thighs and lovely little spurt of pre-cum that beads up against his belly and slides down his stomach gives away how much he likes this.Â
Your tongue teases his balls, making him gasp and they draw tight, as if he is about to cum, but you move away and his groan is heavy with disappointment.Â
Focusing on his thighs. You always love how thick and strong they are. Able to ride a bull and hold tight, they are tight with need and anticipation as you smirk up at him, your face planted right at the most sensitive inner portion.Â
âCock tease.â He blows out a half breath, half laugh as he looks down at you. âYou might as well make your mark there, too.â He pants, making your smirk at the way he makes begging seem like heâs going you a favor. He wants this just as much as you do, maybe even more.Â
You blow on his skin, making him hiss before you finally give him what he wants. Your mouth suctioned to his skin, pulling it harshly before you pull away and bite around the mark. Only to do it all over again under there is a change in the skin. The slight puffiness of where it has been sucked on, the discoloration and then the indentions that are so close to breaking the skin that they are bruising as well.Â
Jack looks drunk, his eyes heavy and his chest heaving, so close to just giving in and cumming untouched from the attention of your mouth. âSugar.â He slurs the soft praise. âGoddamn, câmere.â He reaches down and urges you back up his body. âI fucking need to be inside you when I blow my load.âÂ
You nip his hip again and giggle when he moans, your teeth carving the path back up his body.Â
****
âJack?â He doesnât hear him say his name the first time. âEarth to Jack.âÂ
Jack squirms slightly, pulling his collar and covering up the bruises and bitemarks that could be seen and shooting Champ an innocent look. âTraining injury.â He lies, knowing that the man would never believe that for a second.Â
Champagne snorts and shakes his head, turning back to the bar cart with a chuckle. âIâll have to get Ginger to get the nanites to get rid of it for you.â He offers, smirking to himself.Â
âNo.â Jack shakes his head quickly, picking up his whiskey glass to lips to hide his grin. âIâm good.âÂ
#pedro pascal#kinktober#kinktober 2024#absurdthirst kinktober#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey imagine#agent whiskey fanfiction#jack daniels x f!reader
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loves makes people crazy
yandere dragon X madly in love reader
Here's another idea,a yandere dragon like all powerful and scary the villager is scared of him,the king is scared of him,the Wizards and pretty much everyone and their grandmother is scared of him but then there's you,you different breed of a human decides to see him for the first time and say "yes that's my hubby" and the rest is history
âââââââââââââââââ
⢠people often called you crazy, dilusional and others not so nice insults for being still not being married despite hitting the big 2 0 that and also rejecting the local lords and basically anyone who tries to court you
⢠now just because people say it doesn't mean you HAVE to follow it yk?oh but you did you played their little fantasy of you being crazy so perfectly people were honestly scared for your mental well being,why?you may ask
⢠well it's because when khum first arrived at the village (I say first but it's really his 100th time terrorising the village) you decide to whisper something that some people might have heard "he's perfect" you said eyes filled with hearts watching him scaring the sht out of the locals
⢠honestly you're staring so much he could feel you boring holes into his head,curious he looked around for whoever it is that dared to stare at him for so long and BAM! He saw you,at first he thought you're staring at him in contempt or anger maybe both but then you sigh lovingly and waved at him a fools smile placed upon your face
⢠he had to look around and points at himself just to made sure he even mouthed "m-me? you're talking to me?!" But you blowing him a kiss and winking made it pretty clear it was him,well let's say after that he couldn't help but think about you "what an odd human" he thought
⢠"oh my god haven't you heard?! The dragons visit has been so frequent lately our village can't keep affording the rebuilding cost!" One of the villagers said,you aren't paying attention but just hearing him coming back more and more made your heart flutter "I know it's a blessing" you sighed melting into the seat as you remembered the first time he talks to you
â˘well it happened,khum stood Infront of you folding his hand,what is his plans anyway?kidnapping a human all of a sudden,a weird one at that,"human,do you have a name?" He said
⢠"you can call me yours,and I'll call you mine" you said "how about the name....treasure?no too basic maybe clove?nah um.....oh darling?" he said tilting his head,khum never thought one day he'd witness a human visibly explode and faint but here we was
⢠it was a rocky start to the relationship,well...rocky as in everything was so perfect it's scary, here's the recap,on day five of your kidnappings you've opened up to how the villagers had been treating you(not that it's hard to make you open up,all he had to do was give you food and call you pet names while stroking your head and bam! you're dumping your entire trauma onto him) and oh boy was he not happy
⢠now despite everything he's still a classy dragon,he ofcourse had hoarse of treasure but he also had a pretty nice castle he may or may not seize from a royal you don't have to know that tho so moving on,and with a huge castle come servants and with those come soldiers who needs to maintain security,not that he needs any but you know he likes to have thing's completed and that including the castles needs
⢠now when his subordinates first saw you absolutely gushing on how cute he was they were absolutely shocked,because one he literally look like a demon ripping out people's heart and two this isn't some flower field it's a grusome battle scene yet you couldn't help but blush when his shirt got torn off,you even closed your eyes to savor the moment after a while
⢠khum really can't understand your fixation on him,is it like his love for you?but even then he acknowledges your weird behaviour but you literally looked at him as if he was a god,not that he minds,he gotta admit that day he kinda wore a shirt that's a couple of size down so when he does some movements that needs intents flexibility his shirt would rip off in some cool cinematic style,it worked,it worked too well
⢠so apparently his stamina had their limits he'd come to know it last Night after the battle,oh but the details won't be necessary,oh but don't be fooled if he were to actually try you'd be the one to pass out
⢠now is he dilusional?nope he knows full well that it's not healthy but does he care?nope he's a powerful dragon,are you dilusional?maybe?...idk...probably....yes?.... Well he is cute so I'll give you that
⢠he is possesive, but it's really hard to show possesive when the person he loved won't look at other people,you will talk to people normally but once he entered your line of sight the other people can forget ever having a conversation with you
⢠now for the big question does this technically make you a yandere? maybe..yes.
â˘i feel the need to say he is 100% taller than you, I'm sorry but it's just the rules äšâ (â  â â˘â _â â˘â  â )â ă
⢠yes he has two pp lets move on now
⢠he had a way of marking you so other beasts knows to back the fuck off it's called biting,the first night you ever discover the chamber of secrets together(wink wink nudge nudge)he bit down on your neck,it leaves a pretty little flower mark that's imbued with his power it's very very very tiny teeny I cannot stress enough how tiny it is so it's safe
⢠now if you EVER even say someone else is cute then oh boi oh my,now I have established that he is jealous have I?,no?well too bad because he is,and his jealousy doesn't play nice,he will rip out the heart and torture the person over and over and over each time reviving them again and again and put a curse of Resurrection on them only to leave them in a forest of ravaging beasts that has lost their minds to be feasted upon and tortured until he sees them having suffered enough. ಠâ ︾â ಠMoral of the story? don't just don't say anyone is cute (yes not even babies) (he won't like k.o them but he will like curse them or sum sht )
âââââââââââââââââ
on that note good night people
#yandere dragon#Yandere X reader#tw yandere#yandere monster x reader#Yandere dragon X reader#yandere x yandere#yandere oc x reader#yandere x willing reader#Dear god why is tagging so frustrating?#monster fic
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tender love is blind
In which Eddie dies, Steve lives, and the two of them finally get their happily ever after. -- For the Steddie ABO Valentine's Day Exchange!
Published: 02/08/2024 | Words: 5,462 | Rating: Mature | Link: x
Eddie doesnât believe in the afterlife, not really.Â
Years ago when the paramedics wheeled his momâs body away, Eddie had sat at the window in their shitty little apartment building and stared up at the night sky. He didnât even know what he was looking for-- a sign maybe, like a shooting star. Something to let him know that the heroin was worth it and Josie Munson was in a better place.Â
There wasnât anything, of course. Eddieâs Dad had stumbled into the apartment high off his ass, like the solution to his wifeâs overdose was to follow in her footsteps. He shoved Eddie into a car and somehow got him to Hawkins in one piece. In hindsight maybe that was the sign, his mamaâs way of doing him one last solid from the beyond. Wayne is the best thing thatâs ever happened to Eddie, and if the grizzled Beta could be believed Eddie was the best thing to ever happen to him, too. He thanks a god he only sorta believes in that Wayne is safe in Normal Hawkins, that none of this shit will ever touch him. Eddie tries to smile, but then he remembers that heâs dying.Â
âPlease, Eddie--â Thatâs Steve, fuck. He hadnât wanted Stevie to see him like this. He tries to talk, but instead of âI love youâ, iron and copper flood his throat.Â
Eddie regrets a lot, but right now not mating Steve is the biggest one. Eddie had wanted to wait-- until heâd graduated, until he'd saved enough money, until until until. He regrets not taking his chance at happiness when he could. Steve had wanted Eddieâs bite, had made that abundantly clear every heat and rut theyâd spent together over the last year. It had been Eddie that got hung up on wanting to give his Omega the best start at their life together⌠and now heâll never get the chance.Â
âHeâs gone, Steve, we gotta go--â Thatâs Nancy, probably. She seems like the type to compartmentalize.Â
âEds, you canât leave me, please baby get up. Itâs your year, remember? You gotta just get up for me, just sit up--â Steve is spiraling. Normally Eddie would distract him, would have already pulled Steve into a hug and probably scented him a little. Make them both smell like clove-honey, cinnamon-vanilla.Â
âWakeupwakeupwakeup,â Thereâs pressure on his chest, but it keeps sliding off because from what Eddie remembers he doesnât really have much of a chest anymore. He feels a mouth on his, realizes that Stevie is giving him CPR. âNancy you gotta do something!â Thatâs Buckley. Killing Vecna must have gone well then, if all three of them are here and alive. Â
âShit,â Nancy says. And then she growls, âSteve, letâs go.â All Alpha, a tone Eddieâs only used on Steve to snap him out of a panic attack. Usually Steve is thankful, but this time he makes a sound Eddieâs never heard before; a high, keening wail that breaks whatâs left of Eddieâs heart. He hears a scuffle, like Steve is being dragged away. The wail doesnât stop.Â
Eddie really hopes thereâs an afterlife, if only so he can see Stevie again. He imagines them meeting in Heaven; Steve will be like 98 with crowâs feet and gray hair thatâs full but maybe a little shorter and heâs been happy and they can dance and kiss, even though Eddie is frozen at 21. Itâs a nice dream. Eddie really wishes he could smile.Â
Robin holds Steve, after everything.Â
Sheâs the only thing keeping him together when his body threatens to shake apart, and now that Steve is almost officially out of secrets he feels numb. The entire Party witnessed him trying to claw his way back into the Upside Down, screaming for Eddie to come back. Theyâd known he was an Omega-- it was hard to hide, after Starcourt and the Russian drugs-- but they hadnât know about SteveandEddie.Â
Eddie had thought it was funny, to keep them a secret. Dustin kept pestering them about meeting each other, and the kid was insufferable on a good day. Theyâd wanted a big reveal; something to give the kid a heart attack when they finally told everyone theyâd been dating for a year. Besides Robin and Uncle Wayne, no one had known, and now everyoneâs found out in the worst way possible. In hindsight, Max probably knew the whole time. Sheâs a smart kid, and if the whole Vecna thing is any proof, really good at keeping secrets.Â
Over the next few days the Party curls up in the pack nest in the Harrington living room, everyone filtering in and out in shifts so Steve and Robin are never alone. Robin only gets up to make food and use the restroom; she pumps out a constant stream of calm and steady pheromones even though Steve can tell that sheâs grieving, too. Steve hasnât taken off his scent patches since before Vecna. They make his neck and wrists itch, and he knows wearing them this long isnât healthy but thereâs so much heâs not ready to face.Â
Everyone talks to him, even though he canât bring himself to respond. Max has a broken leg, but sheâs fine. Dustin has a sprained ankle, but heâs fine too, at least physically. Hopper was never dead, just held captive by Russians. Eleven has her powers back. Erica and Lucas are rattled, Mike and Will are being awkward, and Jonathan has a new friend named Argyle. Nancy is busy as always, running around helping with the townâs relief efforts.Â
They all pepper Robin with questions whenever they think Steve is out of earshot.Â
âHe smells like my aunt after my uncle died,â Mike asks. âHe smells like a widow. Were they-- I mean I donât see a bite mark, but⌠were they mated?âÂ
âNo,â Robin says. âEddie wanted to wait until graduation.âÂ
âOh. â86 was going to be his year.â Mike makes a punched out noise, like it just dawns on him.Â
That night, Steve burrows into Robinâs side. Her scent is lavender and lemon, soothing yet sharp. Steve knows heâs not going to like what she has to say when she starts smelling nervous. âBabe, look at me for a second,â She says. She pats his hair until Steve looks up. âDustin said he saw Wayne putting up posters at the school, looking for Eddie. Looking for the both of you, actually. Someone has to tell him.âÂ
Steve closes his eyes against a wave of despair. It threatens to crush him, to pull him under until he canât tell up from down. âI canât, Robbie,â Steve says. Heâs never been more at war with himself; his Omega feels far away, only mildly distressed even though Steve has never felt further from peace. âI canât stand there and tell him I couldnât bring Eddie home.âÂ
âI know for a fact Uncle Wayne would never blame you,â Robin tries. Steve doesn't answer, just wraps an arm around his stomach. Robin sighs.Â
âIâll ask Joyce, or Nancy.â Robin says finally.Â
He nods. He shuts his eyes. He quietly wishes to float away and never come back.Â
Steve has only been to two funerals in his life. One when he was eleven;Â his Grandpa Otis passed away, and the Harringtons had thrown a memorial fit for a small-town king. The coffin was shiny, the food was catered, and the choir was hand-picked from among local unpresented pups. The ceremony was gorgeous, and at the end of it people came out of the woodwork to shake hands with Steveâs parents and tell them how much of a pillar of the community Grandpa Otis was. Little Steve had fixated on the flowers-- even though he was an alpha, Grandpa Otis always loved roses, and had had a huge plot for them in his backyard. Heâd said they reminded him of Steveâs grandma, a society Omega that always smelled like roses and rainwater. Otis had taught Steve how to weed and pluck and prune his rose bushes, but at his funeral, there were only hydrangeas and gardenias.
âWhere are the roses?â Steveâd asked his mom.Â
Vivian Harrington rolled her eyes, âRoses are so⌠common.â She sniffs at the word, her perfect face wrinkling in disgust. âDonât you want everyone to know how much we loved Grandpa Otis?âÂ
Even then, Little Steve had known to read between the lines, that what his mother was really saying was Donât you want everyone to see how much money we have? Heâd bitten his tongue, but later when his parents were away on another business trip Steve snuck into the cemetery with a handful of roses and spent the night curled up by Grandpa Otisâ headstone.Â
The second funeral Steve had gone to was for Dustinâs cat, Mews. It was actually more like a candlelight vigil, and Mrs. Henderson had bawled, clutching at a guilty Dustin whoâd given a very heartfelt speech. It was all very moving if not a little uncomfortable, but Steve canât imagine that Mews actually gave a fuck that in lieu of a body theyâd buried a can of his favorite food.Â
Both instances cemented one thing in Steveâs mind; funerals, theyâre for the living.Â
So when Wayne tracks Steve down two weeks after Vecna and asks if Steve will come with him down to the church to plan Eddieâs service, Steve canât help but think of the way Wayne welcomed him into his home with open arms; the grizzled Beta rarely asked for anything, but gave Eddie and Steve everything in return. Of course Steve says yes.Â
Wayneâs truck squeals as they pull into the church parking lot. His fingers grip the steering wheel, the white of his knuckles the only thing giving away his nerves. Like Steve, Wayne is wearing a scent patch-- Steve canât pick out any of Wayneâs emotions, only catching hints of tobacco and orange.Â
Hawkins only has one church still standing, and itâs unfortunately been run by the Carver family for the last 70 years. Pastor and Mrs. Carver had gone on the morning news and invited all of Hawkins to use their church to say goodbye to their loved ones that died in the âearthquakesâ. They were the picture of the perfect alpha omega couple, eyes red-rimmed and mouths spouting bullshit like âitâs what Jason would have wantedâ. As if their kid hadn't died during a manhunt for an innocent person. Steve knows this whole thing is useless, but he respects Wayne for trying anyway.Â
He thinks that if Eddie were here he probably would have insisted on the church, actually, if only to scandalize the âfine upstanding hypocrites of Hawkins, Indianaâ. Steve lets himself imagine it-- instead of hymns, theyâd shake the walls with Metallica. The Party would all wear their Hellfire shirts, and Steve would wear the cropped prototype Eddie had made for him, even though it was cut right under Steveâs nipples and entirely inappropriate. Eddie had always loved Steve in that shirt and would always cut it incrementally shorter, and Steve would pretend not to notice. Maybe his ghost would appreciate the show.Â
Wayne doesnât move to get out of the car. The silence weighs down on Steve, this heavy thing that isnât even being offset by the mellow croon of Dolly Parton on the radio. Wayne turns towards Steve, his mustache twitching oddly above his lip.Â
âSteve--â Wayne starts.Â
âIâm sorry,â Steve blurts out. âIf I hadnât⌠after Starcourt, if Eddie hadnât found me, and then with Vecna it was Eddieâs first time with the Upside Down and if I hadnât left Eddie and Dustin alone--â Steve hasnât been able to stop crying in two weeks, and this time isnât any different. Itâs like he gets three seconds of peace before the fact that Eddie is gone slams into his chest and sets him off again.
Steve fists his hands in his sweater, rubbing harshly at the fat tears rolling down his face. His stomach somersaults but he holds back the nausea, not looking Wayne in the eyes.Â
âHarrington,â Wayne says again. He clears his throat when Steve flinches at the use of his last name-- âSteve, please, can you look at me, son?âÂ
âYou donât have to say anything, Wayne, I know itâs my fault--âÂ
âSteve, I donât blame you,â Wayne says.Â
âYou should,â Steve scoffs.Â
Itâs true; heâd had a bad feeling about their plan but heâd let everyone go through with it anyway. A not-small part of Steve was convinced that if Eddie had never met him, the Upside Down would have never come into the Munson family's lives. Itâs like the Upside Down was a disease; once youâre a part of it, anything and everyone you get close gets infected.Â
âYou should hate me,â Steve says.Â
âI donât,â Wayne says. âI canât.âÂ
Even though Wayne isnât a man of many words, the Beta has always been kind to Steve. Heâs never given Steve a shovel talk, not even when he caught Eddie sneaking Steve out of the Munson trailer more than once in the early hours of the morning. And when they were officially introduced around a dinner of pizza and Coke, heâd welcomed Steve into their family with open arms even though heâd had no reason to trust a Harrington. Even when he seemed confused that Steve seemed to be sticking around.
âYou should hate me,â Steve says again.Â
With a frustrated growl, Wayne lifts his scent patch. The truck is a three-seater, so it doesnât take long for his scent to flood the carriage with the expected citrus-tobacco-grief. But underneath that⌠love-protectiveness-affection. Steveâs nose twitches, heart stuttering.Â
âYou made my boy the happiest Iâve ever seen him. The way Dustin Henderson tells it, Eddie went out a hero. Protecting one of those pups you care about so much.â  Â
âYeah, yes,â Steve is quick to agree. âHe was a hero.âÂ
Wayne nods and takes a deep breath.Â
âEddie is⌠Eddie was  used to people leaving,â Wayne says. âHis mama, his daddy-- that boy was accustomed to giving people his heart and then watching as they stomped all over it. I knew as soon as I saw you two together that you werenât like that.â He sniffs and clears his throat.Â
âI knew that boy like the back of my hand, and I donât know if I would have been able to put him back together, if he had lost you. I know you werenât mated, but youâre still family.âÂ
Steve realizes, then, that Wayne probably understood. Mike was right-- Steve, when he lets himself take off his scent patches, smells like heâs been widowed. Eddie wasnât Wayneâs kid, and he wasnât Steveâs mate, but he still held those places in both of their hearts.Â
âThank you,â Steve chokes out.Â
Wayne gives Steve a pat on the shoulder, rubbing his wrist against Steveâs arms before sticking his scent patch back into place. âYou might be family, but Iâll thump you if you ever make me talk that much again,â Wayne laughs wetly. âNow letâs go.âÂ
-
-
In the Upside Down, Eddie Munson opens his eyes.Â
The line for the church moves agonizingly slowly because people keep jostling in front of them once they recognize Wayne. People shove past with barely concealed snarls, and Steveâs glad his scent patches are on; the scent of distress-anger-omega would have probably made the situation worse.Â
As it was Steve already had to breathe through his mouth so he wouldnât be able to smell the shock-disgust-confusion radiating off of the people of Hawkins as they wondered at Wayneâs audacity. Even though the government big-wigs had swooped in and cleared Eddieâs name, it wasnât enough when people had already decided that Eddie had invited evil into Hawkins by simply existing.Â
âWonât be long now,â Wayne says.
Two hours pass. Wayne keeps his eyes forward, his scent never wavering beyond his stoic citrus. All the different scents layering over each other give Steve a headache. It bursts into existence from behind his eyes, and Steve isnât sure if itâs a result of repeated head trauma or⌠well, something else. Â
After that everything is blurry.Â
Steve knows they get to the front of the line, remembers Pastor Carver baring his fangs and yanking the âFuneral Request Formâ out of Wayneâs hands. He remembers laughing, humorless; for all that Jason Carver Sr. preached about religion putting him âabove his base instinctsâ, he was halfway feral at the very sight of Wayne Munson.Â
Steve remembers Wayne tilting his head, submitting, and snatches of a conversation--Â
 âI figured you know what itâs like, losing a son,â Wayne had said. âIâd like to bury mine, please. Near his mama, if thatâs alright with you.âÂ
He remembers Carver Sr.âs fangs extending, eyes shifting into a bloody, Alpha redâÂ
âMy son,â Pastor Carver spat, âwas not a murderer.âÂ
âNeither was mine,â Wayne growls.
Steve remembers letting out a whine as a sharp pain shot through his stomach, accompanying the one in his head, Wayne turning, looking at him with concern-- âSteve, are you okay?âÂ
And then, nothing.Â
Eddie canât tell if heâs in Hell or the Upside Down.Â
He also hasnât decided if heâs dead or not, but that seems like a secondary concern, honestly. He kind of hopes heâs in Hell, because at least then thereâs bound to be other Damned souls hanging around if he looks hard enough. But if itâs the Upside Down that means that his friends left him. And if they left him, that means they didnât think he needed a way out in the first place.Â
Of course, thereâs the possibility Hell only looks like the Upside Down because thatâs where Eddie beefed it⌠he doesnât know. Everythingâs all jumbled together, and to be fair maybe-dying hasnât left him a lot of time to parse through the maybe-Afterlife logically.Â
Fact: Heâd woken up surrounded by dead demobats. Their bodies were all twisted and broken, like theyâd fallen mid-flight instead of landing. Point for the Upside Down.Â
Fact: Eddieâs room in Wayneâs trailer is still stuck in 1983. Itâs almost hard to notice-- Eddie has always been in the habit of adding more things to his room, layering posters on top of each other. Stevie used to joke that if Eddie added any more layers, heâd be boxing himself in. The biggest difference, though, is the absence of Steveâs nest. It makes his Alpha panic, actually; his instincts are screaming for him to find his Omega and make sure Stevieâs safe.Â
Fact: Heâs hungry. He feels like Tantalus, hunger fogging his mind until he canât even fucking think. His fangs are longer than theyâve ever been, even for an Alpha, and combined everything is pointing to something Eddie doesnât even want to think about.Â
So heâs decided that heâs probably haunting a parallel dimension. Maybe. Itâs still unclear.Â
Heâs doomed to live out his afterlife in a parallel dimension because he saved a fucking freshman. Not that he regrets it-- Dustin was Eddieâs favorite, and Steveâs favorite even though Steve claimed not to have any-- but Eddie canât help but relive the moment he died over and over again. He canât help thinking that instead of cutting the rope and trapping Dustin in the Rightside Up, he couldâve jumped down with him. Instead of standing on top of his trailer and playing Master of Puppets, he couldâve hooked his radio up to his amp and fucking blasted it.Â
Luckily he has time, an eternity even, to really think about all the ways heâs fucked up.Â
At some point, Eddie adopts a demobat. Itâs rare to find one thatâs alive -- all the ones that used him as his last meal were 100% dead, thankfully -- but this oneâs a baby. Heâs calling it Dustin II, because itâs annoying in a cute way, using its feet to bop along and walk behind Eddie instead of flying. As the only other thing Eddieâs seen alive, heâs kind of attached to the little guy.Â
âNever let society tell you that drug dealing isnât good,â Eddie says. Dustin II flaps his ears, and Eddie takes that as a nod. âNothing can be that bad, especially not when it introduces you to the love of your life,â Eddie says.Â
âStevie called me one day, just like super out of it. He said he got roofied by Russians. I thought he was kidding, but now I know he was most definitely not--âÂ
Eddieâs in Melvadâs, trying to find food he wonât throw up. Heâs gone through cans of beans, cans of vegetables, bags of chips⌠nothing sates his hunger, and even though Eddie thinks it might help, he avoids the meat section entirely. Itâs probably all spoiled anyway. He ignores the fact that it still sounds delicious. Â
âHe calls me over to get some strong painkillers, and asks me to stay with him in case he freaks out. Of course I do it-- King Steve calling me? Iâve been half in love with the guy ever since he was a fucking freshman, of course went over immediately. I show up with drugs, he actually does freak out. I talk him down, and as the kids say, the rest is history.âÂ
Eddie picks up an apple. Itâs more than rotted, itâs practically mummified. He considers it, weighing it in his hand. His stomach revolts-- this wonât do him any good. Eddie shakes his head and throws it away.Â
Dustin II chitters. âI know, man,â Eddie nods. âFinding out King Steve was actually Stevie, that heâs a good guy who takes care of a gaggle of kids and likes fucking ABBA-- it rocked my fucking world. Falling in love with him probably goes against the natural order, but I dare you to find anyone that wouldnât love that man.â Â
Somewhere an aisle over, thereâs a crash. Eddie flinches and ducks into a crouch. He was stupid to think that Dustin II was the only thing to survive in the Upside Down-- what if itâs a Demogorgon or a Demo-something else⌠Eddieâs too hungry, heâs too tired, he canât do thisâŚÂ
He creeps up the aisle, peeking around the corner. He jumps out with a yell, claws and fangs hyperextended--Â
--There, in front of Dustin II, is a thick, reddish membrane. Dustin II chitters again. If Eddie didnât know any better, the thing would look fucking smug. âHoly shit.âÂ
--
The first thing Steve sees when he wakes up is Robinâs worried face. It immediately shifts to relief, and she goes to punch his arm before she hesitates, her hand spasming before she rubs his shoulder instead. She holds a glass of water up to his lips and he sucks it down, greedily. âWhat happened?â Steve says.Â
âYou passed out at the church, dingus. Apparently Wayne had to actually catch you before you got another concussion.âÂ
âOh.âÂ
âSteve⌠They called the ambulance. The EMTs took off your scent patches.âÂ
âOh.âÂ
âYeah,â Robin says. She brushes her wrists over Steveâs neck, his sides, filling his nose with lavender. âEveryoneâs waiting downstairs.âÂ
Steve Harrington is officially out of secrets.Â
--
The thing is, Steve never planned on saying anything. When the pregnancy test came back positive, Steve had immediately gotten into his car and driven out of Hawkins. Not even twenty minutes later heâd had to pull over and throw up his lunch.Â
His Omega wasnât happy-- he could feel his instincts rebelling against his very human, very urgent need to get the fuck out of Hawkins, Indiana. Steve had looked down the highway, eyes roving over the Welcome to Hawkins sign. It mocked him in happy yellow letters, like Hawkins wasnât a hellmouth thatâs already taken everything from him. Heâd leaned back against the cool metal of his car, letting the soft rumble of the idling engine sooth his sour stomach. Eddieâs battle jacket was warm around his shoulders, and Steve had stuck his nose in it letting Eddieâs clove-honey scent soothe and calm him down the rest of the way. His hands had passed over his stomach as he got back into the front seat.Â
He makes a U-Turn and drives back the way he came.Â
--
Steve walks downstairs.
As one, all eyes turn to him. Everyoneâs there-- all the kids, Hopper, Joyce, Murray. Even Wayne. Steve turns to him, first. He doesnât care if everyone hears, he needs to make Wayne understand.Â
âIâm sorry,â Steve says. âI wanted to tell you, but I figured youâd eventually want to leave Hawkins and I canât be the reason youâre stuck here. This whole place, no matter how much they hated Eddie and the way Eddie hated them⌠Heâs just, heâs all over Hawkins, and I canât leave him when heâs here or in some version of here, and I know you donât owe me anything because we werenât bonded, not really, and weâd just talked about it--âÂ
âYouâre carrying my grandpup,â Wane interrupts. His eyes are misty.Â
âYeah,â Steve says weakly. Wayne crosses the room and pulls Steve into a hug, passing his wrists all over Steve in a way more intimate scenting than theyâd had in the parking lot of the church. This time itâs more than a light touch; itâs borderline parental, in a way Steveâs parents never were.Â
He sees the happiness in Wayneâs eyes, his joy at having a piece of Eddie that isnât locked behind the gate to a hell dimension. Wayne has said a million times over that he sees Steve as his own kid, but this is the first time Steve actively lets himself feel it. Wayne finally lets Steve go but hovers at his side as he turns and faces the rest of the kids.Â
âSo yeah,â Steve smiles sadly. âIâm having a baby.â The room erupts into cheers.Â
Eddie Munson laughs as he bursts into the Rightside Up, taking huge gulps of fresh air. âYES! â86, baby, what did I say! Itâs my fucking year!!!â At his side, Dustin II screeches, feeding off Eddieâs energy.Â
So.Â
Fact: Eddie Munson is a vampire.Â
Itâs the only explanation, really-- he survived for weeks in the Upside Down without food, raw meat is the only thing that sounds even remotely edible, and his fangs are so long they probably belong in a record book somewhere. His first instinct is to find Steve, to claim him right then, to make up for all the time he wasted. He lets himself imagines it:Â
Itâs the afterglow of Steveâs heat and theyâre sweaty and practically glued together--Â
Steve looks at him, his face breaking into a smile that makes Eddieâs favorite moles scrunch together, practically touching, and Eddie will lick his lips, he��d be nervous, probably--Â
Itâd be evening, hopefully sunset, so the sun can outline Steve in a halo of yellow light. Heâll look angelic and fucked-out. His blushâll spread down his chest and over the sharp planes of his stomach, and Eddie will take his hand in his jaw and heâll nuzzle at Steveâs throat, popping out his fangs--Â Â
Sticky blood runs down his fingers, and heâs trying to prop Steve up and Steveâs eyes go from trusting to horrified and itâs too late and he canât move and nothing heâs pressing his fingers to Steveâs neck but the blood wonât stop but instead of being horrified⌠His knot expands, pushing at Steveâs belly from the inside and heâs killing him and he wants to stop and he canât, and he wants to save Steve but he canât, and then. And Steve is lifeless, a broken, bloody thing, contorted and dead in their nest.
Eddie shakes himself out of it. That canât happen, that wonât happen. His laughs peter off into sobsâŚÂ
He doesnât think he can ever see Steve again.Â
-
-
Steveâs Omega wakes him up that night.Â
He shimmies out of Robinâs hold, steps over the pups and out of the backdoor of his house before heâs even fully shaken off the haze of sleep. He walks into the first behind his house, following the scent of clove and honey. Steve thinks itâs his mind playing tricks on him. Itâs Eddieâs scent but something more piggybacking on it, something that smells like blood, an undercurrent of iron. Â
He feels stupid, but-- âEddie?â The trees in front of him rustle.Â
Steve whips around, tiny fangs bared and hand hovering protectively over his stomach.âStop,â The shadow growls. Steve can feel a whine in the back of his throat. His Alpha is ordering him away, doesnât Eddie want him anymore? Logic is gone, thereâs just sadness.Â
âEddie, is that you?â Steveâs shaking, heâs unraveling, heâs coming apart why canât his Alpha see that. âEds, talk to me please.â
âDonât come any closer,â He says, but his voice cracks on the command. Steve has fallen asleep to that voice too many times to not recognize it. For the first time since Vecna his Omega and his heart are on the same page. Steve feels despair, but more than that heâs angry. Â
The shadow moves further into the forest. Historically itâs the Alpha that chases an Omega, but Steveâs nose isnât lying to him, his heart isnât lying to him. He holds his hand over his stomach, the barely-there swell comforting him. Heâs about to do something so fucking stupid--Â
Steve runs.Â
The shadow is impossibly fast, almost teleporting through the trees, but Steve is determined. He ignores that heâs barefoot, even though the ache in his feet is already catching up to him. Maybe-Eddie might be fast, but Steve grew up in these woods, mapping them every summer since he was old enough to walk. Steve sniffs-- smells iron and blood, clove and honey-- there.Â
He launches himself at the shadow, and they tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Steveâs legs wrap around Eddieâs waist, pinning him to the ground in between his knees. Itâs Eddie, but⌠the first thing Steve notices is that Eddieâs fingers are different, long and skinny and pitch black at the tips. Steve thinks itâs a trick of the light until they move to cover Eddieâs face.Â
âAlpha, how are you here?â Steve says.Â
âSurprise,â Eddie says. He moves his hands, finally, and Steve tries to catalog every change in his face. Heâs skinnier, gaunt almost, the circles under his eyes making them look impossibly wide and dark. Steve brings his hands up to Eddieâs face, cradling it. Theyâre both crying. Salty tears drip down Steveâs nose and onto Eddie. âWhy did you run from me?âÂ
âStevie, you saw me die,â Eddie says. âYou saw me die, and then I came back wrong.â Eddieâs shaking. Steve holds him tighter. âNothing about you could ever be wrong, Eds,â Steve says.Â
âYeah, well, Iâm pretty sure Iâm a vampire now.âÂ
That gives Steveâs pause. But⌠itâs Eddie, impossibly kind, impossibly wonderful Eddie. The guy who takes spiders out in his palms even when it would be easier to kill them. Again, Steve and his Omega are on the same page.Â
âOkay, so youâre a vampire. There is a literal child with superpowers in my nest as we speak,â Steve says. âI know you, Eddie. Youâd never hurt me, and youâd die before hurting our baby.âÂ
A beat. Steve is just so happy now, and it bubbles out of him as he laughs at Eddieâs dumbstruck expression. âWait, huh,â Eddie says. âCome again?â Â
âYou, Eddie Munson, would never hurt me or our baby,â Steve giggles. âI was thinking Winnie, if itâs a girl, and maybe Otis for a boy. What do you think?âÂ
âWeâre having a baby?â Steve is right; even through all the changes, Eddie is Eddie. His hands flutter over Steveâs stomach, eyes searching Steveâs in the dim moonlight. Steve nods, grabbing Eddieâs hands and placing them over his belly. Thereâs nothing to feel, not yet, but Eddieâs eyes are wide with wonder anyway.Â
âYouâre gonna be a daddy,â Steve says. Between one blink and the next, Eddie growls and pulls Steve down on top of him. They come together in a crash of teeth and tongues. Steve whines, a small thing in his chest that gets louder as Eddieâs attention shifts to Steveâs neck and chest, sucking and biting everywhere but where Steve wants him.Â
Later, Eleven will go through Eddieâs mind and confirm what Steve already knew, that Eddie is still himself even if he needs a little blood once and a while.Â
Later, theyâll welcome their baby girl, a sweet little thing with Eddieâs curls and Steveâs moles. Theyâll give Wayne his âworlds best grandpaâ mug and heâll get tears all over all of them.Â
But right now, under the moonlight, they have all the time in the world.Â
THE END.Â
Notes: Dividers by @strangergraphics
#eddie x steve#stranger things#omegaverse#steddie#exchange fic#major character death#but not really at all#vampire Eddie munson#non graphic mpreg#mpreg#secret relationship#omega steve harrington#alpha eddie munson#Steve Harrington x Eddie munson
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Come On Baby, Light My Fire
CW: gn!civilian!reader, alcohol mentioned, toothrotting fluff for the pretty boy Kyle.
(Title from "Light My Fire" by The Doors)
You can't remember last time you had this much fun on Guy Fawkes Night. Some years you didn't have anyone to go with, other times you found yourself too busy with your studies, job or family matters. Something always prevented you from going out for the whole night and enjoying everything the celebration offered.
But not today. Today you are already a part of the loud crowd, packed densely between the food stalls, music and chatter flooding your ears along with hissing and crackling of small firecrackers lit here and there - probably violating some codes and regulations, but you're not worried: a strong hand tugs you away from any possible harm before you even register a potential threat.
The same hand that dragged you out of your apartment tonight and brought you to Alexandra Palace, shushing your protests with a finger against your lips.
Kyle's hand.
Holding yours tightly inside that stupid lovers' mitten you gifted him last Christmas - mostly as a joke, just to poke fun at his tendency to be sugary sweet and corny with his romance sometimes; but you chose the wrong man to joke with. The mitten has been a must on cold weather dates ever since, and the 5th of November is definitely not a hot day - so much not a hot one, that the air above the crowd is filled with steamy breaths along with sparklers' distinct smell and the tanginess of mulled wine poured at every stall.
Kyle has his paper cup, steaming with clove, cinnamon and red wine, in his free hand, as he leads you confidently to a less crowded space - you just have to hurry along, laughing and watching out for your half-eaten toffee apple he insisted on buying for you. There were three chocolate-dipped strawberries too, but you ate them almost immediately, like two rom-com sweethearts, kissing over the sticky, juice-covered stick.
You're both unbearably and disgustingly in love.
A flock of teenagers swarms you, half of them in the V for Vendetta stylized Guy Fawkes masks, and the one in the hat tries to shove a sparkler in your hand, but when you helplessly demonstrate you're fully occupied, sweet kid giggles and stands on their tiptoes to put the little festive stick (not lit, thankfully - you wouldn't put it past kids to do all kinds of stupid things) into Kyle's front jacket pocket.
"Thank you!" You shout over another firecracker blowing up as the teens run off - and only then you realize that you should've probably given them a penny for the guy.
"Let's move, love, fireworks are going off soon, gotta find a good place to watch." Kyle leans to speak directly into your ear and kisses your temple, nuzzling your beanie to push it lower so you won't freeze.
You two stumble out of the main crowd over to a spacious lawn with people standing respectfully sparse, and you finally get a chance to finish your apple, already cold, but still sweet and juicy. Kyle volunteers to lick the stick clean of the caramel and exchanges it for a mulled wine-soaked orange slice that you nibble on gladly. After you both finish your treats, he finally ditches the stupid mitten, leaving it to keep your hand warm, and leaves you for a moment to throw the trash away.
Even while Kyle's wandering somewhere around in search of a trash can, you still feel giddy and stand there with a silly smile stretching your lips, as you watch a big bonfire blaze far, far ahead, where there are too many people to even come close already. It's alright, though, you're not that cold and you can enjoy bonfires later, in your neighbourhood, with less people around. The toffee apple still melts somewhere inside you, as if the heat of the fire reaches you on the damp lawn, and covers all your internal organs in sugary syrup.
It's a good night, a great date and the best way to experience a Guy Fawkes', you're sure.
"Missed me, I hope?" A warm voice and two strong arms envelop you from behind and you laugh, caught in Kyle's hug. He smirks and tries to go in for a sweet smooch, but you have your own idea - and squirm, avoiding his tempting full lips as best as you can. He stops, like a good boy, but looks at you with eyebrows raised high. "Well, that's new. Did I miss a sign that said kisses are off limits or something?"
"No, I want to kiss you," you reassure him, patting his hand - warm even without the mitten, even though he swears each time he'll freeze his fingers off if you don't wear the ting (and you wouldn't want to lose these fingers, would you, angel?). "Just-"
"Well, what are you waiting for, then?"
You'd have to explain, but a loud explosion interrupts you, firework rockets tearing through the dark, gloomy sky and blooming with bright, colourful flowers among the clouds. Both you and Kyle stand there, enchanted with the pretty picture, until you finally admit what you were waiting for.
"For this."
You pull him by the back of his head, cap already moved out of the way, and kiss him. And it feels just as sparkly and beautiful as fireworks.
#juju's love is illegal celebration#cod#call of duty#gaz cod#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#cod fluff#fluff#oneshot
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Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 11: When You Can't Sleep at Night, You'll Hear My Stolen Lullaby
Heeeey besties. It has been more than a minute. I work eighty hours a week. Please take pity on me. If you are still here, still reading, wow I love you and I thank you deeply.
This chapter doesn't have a strong plot, it is just about my favorite things. Mamas and their babies.
A huge shoutout to @districtonekisses who has had conversations about explicitly stuff in this fic with me again and again, I love you and owe you cashbaria content soon I promise.
As always @kentwells my beloved, has been keeping my clato thoughts FED in my DMs to keep me moving through this shitty work schedule I have.
@bodyelectric77 you just have to get tagged at this point im so sorry.
Anyway!
Title from T-swift My tears ricochet
masterpost
AO3
He does not fit in the space from her knees to her hips anymore. His body can no longer fit comfortably resting on the short length of her thighs, where she could prop up her knees and take the time to memorize the details of her son in the middle of the night. Really, he never fit there to begin with. His legs would be scrunched up, and if he extended them he gave her an impressively strong kick for such a little person. Â
Now, though, months and months into his life, Clove could not even pretend that he still fit in her lap.
Her arms, though, oh her arms were another story entirely.Â
It was all part of her carefully crafted nightly facade, one she had been orchestrating for the last six months, for the entire duration of her time as a mother.Â
It went the same way every night. Cato would hand her the baby in his little hooded bath towel, all wet eyelashes and big blue eyes staring at her as his little baby hands just reached for her almost as quickly as sheâd reach back for him. Sheâd absolutely insist she was just going to get him to sleep, then sheâd be back to bed. Yet, every single night sheâd end up padding across the short distance from his room to their own with him firmly asleep in her arms. She always insists that it is just simpler if he is with them, because really, where in the whole world could he be safer than between the people who brought him into it. Cato always knew his part too, when heâd wordlessly just take the baby back from her so she could get into bed. That is exactly where his son would sleep, right there on his chest and in his arms, until hours into the night when the first slight noise he made had Clove pulling him over into her arms. Theyâd wordlessly, barely even consciously, pass him back and forth throughout the entire duration of the night. Neither mention it. Neither question it. It is their unspoken, unquestioned agreement.Â
(Neither want to admit just how scared they are at the thought of him being anywhere but between them)
This is part two of that routine, where Clove and her son sit curled up in the corner of his bedroom, her knees tucked under her as she rocks with him in the oversized (for her, at least) recliner. Sheâs got him in the crook of her left arm, though her right hand comes around to brush her fingers over his still damp blonde hair on his head, her thumb coming to caress his full little cheek. They share the same fleecy blue blanket that she wraps around her own shoulders and covers her arms in, so that he too is protected from any sting of his first District Two winter that bites outside the window.Â
Not that there was any real risk of feeling a winter sting; from the blanket to his motherâs arms to the little blue sleeper the color of his eyes to the well heated house that his father endures for the sake of his mother- he was never going to be cold.Â
Cold he is not. Awake, however, he is.Â
âYou gotta go to sleep, sweetheart, come on..â Clove whispers, though there's a softness in her voice that is reserved for this little boy and this little boy alone. âYou had such a busy day, you have to be sleepy.âÂ
Busy is a bold descriptor, but he did have an exciting day for a six month old. The first real layer of snow had finally covered the District last night, an uncharacteristically late start in February. Cato had been nothing short of insistent that he got to take the baby out today. Even Clove, who watched from the warmth of the kitchen window, couldnât look away from the identical smiles of her boys and the sweet baby giggles coming from her son. There was something about the way Cato dipped this baby down into the ground to toe at the snow, and the way he pulled his little feet up in delighted response, that made Clove almost want to brave the cold for them, too.Â
Still, the day of discovery did not seem to make a dent in the energy level of Atlas Hadley, who was contently playing with the thin strap of Cloveâs shirt, an entire little fist wrapped around the fabric. She shifts, just a little, so that he is less facing into her and more looking up at the rest of the room. She catches one of his hands, and brings it up to her lips to kiss his closed fist, which earns her the biggest, widest smile from the blond boy in her arms.Â
And God, when he looks at her with the biggest, widest blue eyes in the world, as if she herself hung the stars in the sky? The only thing she can wonder is how the fuck she deserves him.Â
She finds herself humming to him often, and now is no exception. She never full on sings, and she never will, but there's something just..instinctual about how simply it falls from her. She isnât even sure where she learned it. Normally it works, too. A few minutes of humming and rocking in this chair and he was out, usually with his little cheek pressed flush against her skin.Â
Itâs always the same song, too, oddly enough. It just flows. She isnât even sure where she heard it or picked it up fromâ probably Glimmerâ but it does the job.Â
Most nights, at least.Â
Now, though, sheâs still got those sky colored eyes just absolutely staring up at her, like something is so captivating he canât bear to close his eyes and miss a moment.
âWhatcha looking at? Do you see the snow?â Clove twists her neck to look backwards, trying to glance over her shoulder out the window to see what could possibly be so enticing to her baby. Itâs just a dark sky, not even moonlight within frame to have him so entranced.
 When sheâs glancing out, beyond what her baby could see, she can see the thick blanket of snow draped over the trees and landscape. Itâs involuntary, the chill that goes through her, when she sees the eerie stillness of snow in the darkness.Â
She doesnât mean to stretch out her fingers, rolling them out as if she is trying to keep them mobile and warm. She canât help but do her best to wrap her little hands around her son, somehow managing to pull him closer as if she herself will be the final defense between him and an icy, frozen arena.Â
Itâs been what? Five..Six..Seven years since her games? Nearly a decade and that biting cold feeling just cannot leave her.Â
âThereâs no snow falling, what do you see, my love?â Clove tries again, this time shifting him in her arms so that his head is resting on her chest rather than her arms, hoping to distract him from whatever was keeping him so alert.Â
Still, Atlas twists his little face so that he can still see hers, blinking up at her with the same lovey expression as before. She makes a confused face at him, eyebrows pinching together, but just wraps her arms tighter, holding them both deeper in the warm embrace of their blanket.Â
âI canât blame him, all he wants to see is you.â Cato points out from where he now rests in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over the expanse of his bare chest. âI wouldnât want to go to sleep either, if my other option was looking at you.âÂ
âAnd what are you staring at now, Cato?â Clove teases, letting one hand come to the back of her sonâs head and strum rhythmic little circles over his hair. âYou know youâre going to distract him..â
âDonât mind me, Iâm just admiring my work is all.â Cato grins, raking his eyes over Clove in the corner of the room, so effortlessly curled up around their only child.Â
Clove, who was once a feral little girl with knives hidden in her socks, now just so delightfully different while maintaining everything that made him love her.Â
â...your work? Youâre admiring your work?â Clove raises a dark eyebrow, though her expression twists into something toeing the line between annoyance and adoration, an expression Cato knows all too well.Â
âHell yeah this is my work.â Cato gestures to the two of them with one hand and the most smug smile on his pretty face. âI did  make all of this happen soâŚmy work.â
âYouâre the worst sometimes,â Clove rolls her eyes, but doesnât stop the rhythmic rocking of her son in her arms. âItâs our work, thank you very much.â
âSome of our best, honestly.â He agrees, but uses the arm that was reaching out to them to gesture back towards himself. âCâmere. Iâm lonely across the hall.â
âHe isnât asleep yet..â She sighs, shaking her head lightly. âHeâs got a staring problem like his dad.â
âCanât blame the kid.â He holds out his other arm as he crosses the distance between them. âHold on to him.â
âWhat are you-â
He slips one arm under her legs and the other behind her shoulders, âJust hold him. Weâre going to bed.â Cato instructs, before heâs got her scooped up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a baby herself.Â
âCato! Be careful!â She shrieked, but curled into his chest as she had done thousands and thousands of times in her life.Â
âYou act like Iâve ever dropped you.â
_____________________________________________________________
âNo mama, no sleepy.â Stella Sanford shakes her little head, blonde ringlet curls brushing over her pajama clad shoulders with every move. Regardless of her pouting, and boy does she know how to tilt her little lips into a pout, she flops into her usual bedtime position with her head on her motherâs right arm.Â
âYes, Stella, you have to go to sleep. You canât wake up for your birthday if you donât go to sleep first.â Glimmer tries softly, bringing her arm up to wrap around Stella, twisting her fingers through the ends of her soft baby blonde hair. Sheâd remain here until Marvel came upstairs, when sheâd effortlessly roll right into his arms for the rest of the night. A baby for each of them to holdâ well, toddlers now. âAnd Sissyâs already sleeping, sheâs going to get to have her birthday tooâŚâ
âNo sleepy,â Comes from the muffled voice of Aurelia on her chest, who doesnât even lift her head to see her mother or her twin sister, instead keeping her face buried in her favorite pink blanket the three of them fell asleep under every night. âSing song, mama?â
âYou already got your sing song, baby.â She soothes, brushing her hand over the back of her baby soft pajamas, the tips of her fingers tracing the tiniest little shapes on the top of her back. âAnd your story, and another book, and your kisses..â
âP-eeease, mama?â Stella flutters her long eyelashes at her mother, resting her chin right on her chest next to her twin. âone sing song.â
âOne sing song.â Aurelia chimes in, one of her little hands escaping her blankets and coming up to touch her motherâs face gently. âPease?â
Glimmer audibly sighs, grabbing Aureliaâs little hand and kissing her open palm, using her other hand to pull Stella closer. Theyâre just her babies, babies who were two years old as of early tomorrow morning, how could she tell them no?Â
Especially now, when the days of them holding onto her and sleeping in her arms are slipping away so quickly?Â
âWhat sing song do you want? You canât have the birthday one until tomorrow-â
âNo words sing song.â Aurelia explains, twisting a hundred and eighty degrees in her motherâs arms so that she can face her sister now too.Â
â...no wordsâŚbaby, that's not a song?â Glimmer tries, taking the opportunity to spread their pink blanket out over the three of them, now equally covering both Stella and Aurelia where they would sleep until Marvel was done with birthday set up.Â
âNo words sing song!â Stella agrees with an enthusiastic nod, her little nose scrunching up with her smile in an expression she most definitely did not inherit from her mother. âLike this!âÂ
Glimmer watches with a bemused smile as Stella tries to demonstrate her request, with little furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. Itâs adorable, almost to the point that Glimmer forgets her girl is trying to show her something.Â
â...oh you want me to hum you a song? Thatâs not singing, silly girlies.âÂ
âHum song.â Stella outright demands this time, resting her little hands on her chin expectantly. âDo the hum song, mama.â
â...the hum song?â Glimmer mumbles, trying to rack through her brain for whatever specific song they mean. Thereâs the one that comes to mind, though she isnât sure why or where she learned it. Then again, there arenât words, itâs only a hummable song.Â
âOkay. Iâll do the hum song, but you gotta cloooose your eyes.â Glimmer instructs, moving her arms intentionally so that they are both individually cradled in an arm, although they are far bigger than the infant babies she brought home in this position two years ago.
 âGoodnight Aurelia-â She starts, leaning down to kiss the top of her far more reserved childâs head, her lips lingering for just a moment as she soaks in the time she gets to share alone with them. âGoodnight Stella..I love you both so so much.âÂ
âNigh-nigh mama, loves youâ Stella announces contentedly, curling up into her motherâs side dutifully, before peaking one green eye up and over at her sister. âNigh-nigh sissy.â
âNight-night sissy.â Aurelia declares, wiggling her little pink nails (an early birthday fun day gift from Auntie Cashy) out for Stellaâs matching ones (and match Cashmere and Glimmerâs, too of course). âLove mama.â
As she hums to her girls, Glimmer watches closely. She notices how Stellaâs hand reaches up to hold on to Aureliaâs, and her heart catches in her throat. She canât help but remember the very first time she held the two of them together, how her girls who never knew anything but each other, reached only for each other within the first moments of their lives. She was not a twin herself, but there was something otherworldly about the bond between her children, beyond anything sheâd ever get to know. Even now, almost two years to the day since they were born, they still fall asleep every night holding each otherâs little hands. As it was right now, it was almost always intentional. Just two halves of the same soul, always reaching for the piece that completes them.
Glimmer never takes advantage of how lucky she is to have the children that she does, what a miracle it is that she gets to be their mother.Â
She never forgets just how deeply loved her daughters are, by so many people beyond herself, either.Â
Now, for example. Her sister and brother were adamantly downstairs helping her husband decorate for the girlâs second birthday, with no fewer than 730 pastel balloons to blow up and intentionally place around the first floor. It is arguably the least sexy, most unromantic way for her sister to spend the eve of Valentine's day, something Cashmere most definitely would point out to her later. Fortunately the seven pm bedtime of the twins meant they would be finished decorating before Cashmere was even due to start her skincare.Â
The point being, Cashmere and Gloss didnât have to be here. These twins are not their children, they have no responsibility to them, and yet here they are.Â
Not to forget that Marvel, the sweet sweet man that he is, would most certainly come up with a gift for her. Claiming that, yes it was the girlsâ birthday, but it was her who physically birthed them into the world and that she deserved as much recognition as they did.Â
There's something remarkable about him as a husband and as a father that almost, just almost, makes her think about risking a boy for just one more child to watch him raise. While she likes to think that she was born to be a mother, it cannot be denied that he wanted those girls just as badly as she did.Â
She can physically feel Aurelia fall asleep on top of her, when any tension in her little body just releases at once and she fully gives into the embrace of her mother. Stella never takes long after Aurelia, though it is far more subtle to hear her breathing pattern even out so distinctly.
Two entire years of this being her life, two years of big green eyes staring at her, two years of âmamaâ in high pitched little voices, two years of little humans who trusted her for everything they could ever need.Â
She isnât sure sheâll ever get used to this being her real life, as if she will ever accept it as anything more than the dream it feels like.Â
Itâs unbelievable to her, that this is the life she gets to live.That somehow, after everything, she has been granted this chance. It feels beyond a dream to have one daughter who prefers strawberry jelly over grape, or another daughter who cries if her bubbles in her bathtub pop. What a privilege it is to sort little socks embroidered with Aâs and Sâs, to have two of every set of pajamas and every tutu.Â
Itâs nothing short of a dream, nothing short of a miracle, that Glimmer even survived long enough to be a mother at all.Â
Marvel moves so quietly that she doesnât even hear him come into the room, and is only alerted to his presence by the shift of the other side of the bed when he sits on their shared bed.
She pauses her mindless humming, glancing up over at him with a soft smile on her face. She notices something speckled on the thin fabric of his white shirt, but pays very little attention to it as he so carefully slides into bed beside her with a well practiced agility that only comes from long dedication to not waking the girls with a shift in the mattress.Â
âDonât stop on my account.â He defends, leaning over oh so carefully to kiss her on the cheek without disturbing the freshly sleeping toddlers in her arms. âBalloons, streamers, and the special birthday plates are set up. Your sister did tell me Iâm ruining her valentines day because I said she couldnât come wake them up to give them their first present. Sheâll get over it.â
Glimmer gives him the softest smile as his hands thread under Stella, expertly pulling her to his side of the bed where she would sleep incredibly soundly for the rest of the night . As if to illustrate her thoughts, her baby curled right up against her father, burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. Sheâs paying such close attention there to his side, that it dawns on her exactly what the speckles on his shirt are.Â
She reaches out to grab the white fabric, and the deep maroon blossoming along his side confirms exactly what she suspected. âAre youâŚ.bleeding?!âÂ
âOh! Yeah! Itâs nothing! Just your brother and the staple gun! No harm done!â Marvel brushes off, grabbing the free edge of the pink blanket and dragging it over him too. He offers her a comforting smile, grabbing at her hand. âHey. Glim. Iâm fine. Seriously. Your brother started thinking a bit too much about why we were decorating and how the girls came to be, and you know how he gets! Heâs just..protective of you. Heâll get over it one day. Or he wonât, and heâll try to kill me one day a year every year for the next twenty. Either way, I can take it. And probably deserve it a little.â
âHe does not get to hurt you,â Glimmer warns, shaking her head in firm but loving disapproval. âIâm a big girl, and I made my decision. And I would make that choice over and over and over again. And I will remind him of that tomorrow.â She shifts closer, as far as she can without the risk of waking Aurelia in her arms. âThey donât get to act like theyâre number one aunt and uncle and then act like that towards you. Itâs infuriatingâ She mumbles, taking the chance to move just a few inches closer, unable to fully close the gap between them. âYou donât deserve that.â
âItâs okay, Glimmer, I can take it. They donât mean anything by it. BesidesâŚmaybe theyâre just jealous.â He does his part to shift closer too, leaving just enough space between them for the girls to move to. ââCause I got two of these,â he gestures to the sleeping twins, pulling Stella up to sleep on his chest, mirroring Aurelia on her motherâs. âAnd they donât have any. And I get a you, Glimmer. They can say whatever they want, because really, I won.â
âYeah, well, my sister doesnât pay attention to anything but her own reflection, and my brother is her lapdog. I wouldnât want to be them, either.âÂ
âEspecially not Cashmere, sheâs got Enobaria with those teeth-â Marvel jokes, earning him a little nudge from Glimmer.Â
âGod donât bring that up, there are some things I donât need to pictureââ
âHey, thatâs just mentally picturing. I have actual proof of the things I've done with their sister.â He teases, pointing between the sleeping blondes in their arms. âWe donât need them to like it. We just need them to help blow up balloons once a year. They like the girls, thatâs what matters.â
Glimmer feels like her heart physically hurts in the center of her chest, when she looks up and sees the way he just looks at her with such love and dedication in those blue eyes. Blue eyes she wishes were reflected in one of her daughters, sometimes, if for no other reason than how much she selfishly loves them. â....I love you.â
âI love me, too.â Marvel teases, before catching her face in his hand. âI love you, more than anything. And Iâm really glad we accidentally pulled off this two for one special thing, because we have really, really cool kids.âÂ
And for all the anxiety, the uncertainty, the discomfort, the stress, and the downright fear that came with the time leading up to the birth of her children⌠she wouldnât have it any other way. After it all.. sheâd go through every single moment all over again if she meant she held her daughters at the end of it. â...theyâre the best.âÂ
âYouâre the best.â He promises, finally just slipping his arm around her hips and pulling her closer, damned with keeping space for now. He pauses, and shakes his head for a moment as if he just remembered something. âThat song you were humming when I came in..they ask for the no words sing song alllll the timeâŚwhere the hell did that even come from?â
âAbsolutely no idea.â
_______________________________________________
âGood morning.â Glimmerâs raspy, sleep-addled voice in the doorway would have jolted Clove awake had it not been for the fact she had already been wide awake the majority of the night and into the early morning. She stands in the doorway with hair in two frizzy braids that are passively untwisting and oversized sweatshirt with sleeves that cover her hands, and the way she is rubbing at her eyes with said sleeves make her look nothing short of an oversized toddler coming to her mother for comfort in the middle of the night.Â
Except Glimmer is a twenty five year old woman and Clove is not her mother.Â
âCan I get in bed?â Glimmer murmurs, though it is nothing more than a formality as she is already pulling up the comforter on the opposite end of the bed from Clove and sliding one leg in. âEw, this is Catoâs side, I donât want to lay in these sheets, I know what goes on here-â She scrunches up her nose, but plops her head down on his pillow anyway.
âThe sheets are clean-ish. Nothing is going down in this bed for a long fucking time. Fuck, what time is itââ She twists her head to look over at Glimmer, who is making herself plenty comfortable in Cloveâs bed. Clove on the other hand is half sitting, half leaning, with her neck just slightly propped up by the pillows. Most importantly is her baby, all of five (six, now) days old, scrunched up on her chest, but incredibly safe and protected in the arms of his mother. She ceases her humming, some old song she canât seem to get out of her head, before stifling her own yawn into her sonâs hair. âWhat are you doing here? Did Cato send you to come babysit me?â
âItâs five forty two in the morning. Five forty five is the morning workout start time for you district two psychopaths apparently. Enobaria and Brutus are downstairs with Cato, theyâre going down to the basement.â Glimmer stifles a yawn with the edge of the blanket, rolling onto her right side so that she is facing Clove, though her eyes are barely even half open to support her argument that sheâs awake. âHuh? No it wasnât Cato. Iâm not even babysitting you per sayâjust keeping you company while everyone else works out- okay, Enobaria came into my room and pulled me out of bed by my ankle and said I had to come sit with you. Not that I mind!â
âDo they think iâm a fucking baby and canât watch myself?â Clove snaps, wiggling so that she too is laying flat on her back next to Glimmer. It had been six daysâ how the hell was she going to do this for eighteen years- and the lack of sleep had gotten to her. Itâs not a foreign sensation, they had deprived them of sleep plenty of times during games training and even at the hands of Snow in the capitolâŚbut back then the only person she had to keep alive was herself. Not a whole new needy, helpless human being. âWhat do they think I'm going to do? Throw him at a target to strengthen my arm?â
âI think theyâre more worried about you trying to workout six days after you had a baby come out of you. ��� Glimmer explains, stifling yet another yawn into her borrowed pillow. âNot that iâm saying you would-â
âFuck, Glim, Iâm not working out. I can barely walk, it feels like he literally ripped me in half and he might have! I donât know! I donât care to find out! Iâm pretty sure I'm literally stitched back together!â Clove shakes her head quickly, blinking back the wet feeling in her eyes she doesnât know whether to attribute to exhaustion or hormonal instability. â...Glimmer everything hurts. It hurts and I canât do anything and all I do is lay in this bed with this baby and try to pretend that everything is fine but Glimmer it hurts.âÂ
Glimmer takes the moment to prop herself up on her elbow, recognizing the need to feel more present for her friend. â...of course it hurts, Clove. Heâs huge. You are not. It hurts even when theyâre little.â
âYeah, well you had two at the same time, of course that hurt,â Clove insists, but uses the chance to pull her son up closer to her face, where she can continue to place kisses on his head and try to keep him asleep. âIt hurts and I canât tell Cato that because heâll absolutely freak out or think iâm dramatic or something and I just donât need that right now-â
âClove..do you think he doesnât know? Like heâs dumb but he isnât that dumb.â Glimmer tries, giving just the slightest eye roll. âHeâs constantly worried about you. He texted Marvel seventeen âand I countedâ times the day you had the baby telling him he was afraid you were going to die, Clove. Heâs stupid but he absolutely can read you like a book.â
âYeah, well I thought I was dying too, Glimmer!â She bites back, tension and something else crawling into her tone. âIâve been in multiple near death experiences, and you know what, it was the only time I had ever actually been scared of it!âÂ
âBut you didnât! And heâs here and heâs okay and you are okay. You deserve to take care of yourself, too, Clove. I know heâs important and all, but so are youâŚâ
âI am taking care of myself, clearly I'm laying up here in bed all useless while everyone else gets to go actually do something for themselves. And God, Glimmer, this baby wakes up all night and heâs already asleep on me so I just take care of him and I love him and I wouldnât change a thing but I look at Cato who looks so fucking peaceful and well rested and I want to kill him.â Cloveâs breathing and speaking speeds up as she rambles, borderline pushing herself to a meltdown. âI love him. He offers to get up with me, and he does, but heâs justâŚuseless to this baby right now. So he sits up and stares at me as his version of moral support. But it isnât helping!â
âOh! Absolutely! I remember one time I woke up in the middle of the night, and I was so tired, and I looked down and I had Stella in one arm and Aurelia in the other and I looked over and Marvel was just..out. And all I wanted was to just slit his throat. After that I started making him wake up all night, too. WhichâŚtheyâre pretty useless but it makes you feel less alone. Youâre the only person in the world who can take care of that baby, Clove, and itâs lonely and itâs hard but when heâs like a year old and all he wants is you, itâs the best feeling in the worldâ Glimmer sits up just a little, holding both her hands out and making a gesture towards herself. âGive me the baby.â
âWhat? No, heâs fineââ Clove shakes her head rapidly, both her hands wrapping around his little back, holding him somehow closer to herself.Â
âClove. Youâre exhausted. More than Iâve ever seen you, and that's saying something, considering we literally went through Hunger Games together. You came back from literal capital torture looking less tired. Give me the baby.â She once again waves both hands towards herself. âDo you trust me?â
âWell yeah of course I trust you, itâs just not your job to take him.â Clove insists, shaking her head firmly, but glances sideways down at her baby. âItâs my responsibility to take care of him.â
âClove. Give me the baby. I swear I wonât leave this bed. Give me this baby and take a nap.â Glimmer all but demands, shuffling her body to sit up a little more properly. She shoves her hands closer to the baby, patiently waiting in that position. âLet me help you. Itâs what I'm here for.â
âYouâre here so I donât go try to do a sit up.â Clove hesitates, but finally acquiesced and slides her fingers under her sonâs chest, lifting her son so that she can look at his sleepy face before gently hovering him closer to Glimmer.Â
âYou donât have the core strength for a sit up right now, who are you kidding.â Glimmer flashes the baby a bright smile, all but abandoning her exhaustion as she pulls him into her arms. âHey little buddy!â She coos at him, holding his head in one hand and his body with the length of her opposite arm. âYouâre still such a cutie, even though you look like your dad!âÂ
Clove somehow looks both visibly more tense as she rolls on her side to face Glimmer, and also more relaxed at the same time. âHeâs got a cute dad, of course heâs cute.âÂ
âIsnât it annoying that you did all the work and he looks like him though?â She points out, gently shushing the baby as she bounces him just slightly in her arms. âI wouldnât know what thatâs like, obviously.â
âI wouldn't want him any other way.â She half mumbles, reaching her top hand up to hold on to his little body, despite the fact Glimmer is plenty capable of taking care of him. She sees the skeptical look from Glimmer, and gives her a tired half-scowl. âLeave me alone, Iâve been touching him in some way for like..ten months.â
âYouâre just so maternal itâs cute.â Glimmer grins, wiggling down so that she is laying more parallel to Clove. âHeâs safe, Clove. Iâll wake you if he needs you. I promise.âÂ
Clove rolls her eyes to make a point, but her eyes do not bother re-opening for Glimmer to notice.Â
Glimmer of course notices, particularly when Cloveâs hand goes fully limp on top of the baby. She laughs to herself, never out loud in fear of waking Clove who barely wants to sleep as is, as Clove slips in and out of deep sleep, occasionally humming something over and over even while unconscious.Â
âYouâve got a good mama, Atlas. Be good for her, okay?â Glimmer whispers to the tiny blond boyâ okay, not tiny in compared to the actual tiny babies she herself made. âYour dad though, you can scream at him all you want.â
This is how Cato finds them an hour later, when he comes up stairs and sees Glimmer in his bed. Cloveâs practically curled up in Glimmerâs side, her hand resting on top of the baby, though otherwise she is dead to the world. Â
âGo home, Blondie, youâre in my spot.â Cato demands, holding a low-slung towel on his hips, nodding his head towards the door. âAnd donât get any ideas about taking my kid with you.â
âJealous, I'm in bed with your wife?â Glimmer taunts, but gives a firm shake of her head. âYou can have her back after you make me breakfast, as a âsorry you had to come over at 5 amâ treat.â
âYou act like you mind it. Youâre getting to hold a new baby without any responsibilities.â Cato runs a hand through his wet hair, before dragging it down the side of his face. He struggles to get out the words âthank you,â but itâs understood when he rubs at the back of his neck and asks. âDo you want me to wake Marvel to make waffles or wake Marvel to make french toast.â
âMmm, I was actually hoping for an egg white omelet?â Glimmer scrunches her nose in a semi pout, sticking out her bottom lip playfully.Â
âCan he make that?â
âAbsolutely not.âÂ
âGreat. Heâs making french toast then.â
It becomes a daily pattern for the next month and a half.Â
______________________________________________________
It is literal years before anyone thinks about the song for more than a few seconds, other than long enough to remember to start singing it.Â
âDid you learn that song from Cashmere?â Clove asks from her spot at the kitchen island, sitting on her barstool as she stirs a bowl of ice cream and sprinkles in her hand. It had been her favorite treat for the duration of her secondâ and finalâ pregnancy, but usually she had a blonde boy breathing down her neck for a bite. She takes the moment to enjoy her snack in peaceâ without her husband or toddler demanding she share with the same pouty face and wide blue eyes.
Sometimes she felt like she married a child and then went and made him an identical, miniature version of himself to be his new best friend.Â
Enobaria crinkles her eyebrows, her face twisting from bemusement at the dark haired little girl in her arms, to actual irritation. âDid you lose your mind when this one came out?â She holds up the tiny baby girl, swimming in the little sleeper that her brother once barely fit in, as if for emphasis. âSheâs been here for three days, you canât blame her anymore.â
Three days which Enobaria has had to hear every night from Cashmere on the phone back in District One, are the longest three days sheâs had in years.Â
Enobaria couldnât leave her brand new three day old niece any faster than Cashmere was willing to leave her ten day old one.
âWhat! I learned it from Glimmer I think. I dunno. It always puts Atlas to sleep, Sevina doesnât seem to care about it yet.â Clove shrugs, glancing past Enobaria to catch a glimpse of her two year old son, being chased around the pool by his father. âI just assumed if I learned it from her, you learned it from Cash too-â
âClove, that song is old District Two. Iâm talking before the first war level old.â Enobaria explains, before her attention is brought right back down to the tiny girl in her arms. She never knew Clove at this age, but she canât stop herself from wondering if this was exactly what it had been like to hold her.Â
âHow would I know it then?â
 âBecause you were once a toddler who didnât sleep and I was a desperate teenager.â
#arwbfb tag#clato#arwbfb au#clato tag#glimmer tag#marvel tag#enobaria tag#glimmer and marvel tag#pfsk tag#always remember we're burned for better tag#picket fence is sharp as knives tag#hunger games#hunger games au#hunger games fic#clato fanfic
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As I start physio for my wrist, I've been thinking now's a good time to reread some wips and decide which one I might try to work on first once I have less pain from all these exercises. I also thought it might be fun to do a poll to see which fics folks wanna see updated soonest:
Propaganda (read: current wip status) below the cut!
Take Root- the modern AU of two old men supporting each other and learning to grow around their scars. The bulk of chapter 17 is written. There is one small scene I need to add, and one other scene needs some serious editing before it is ready to post. We're hitting a big emotional beat in this one, so I want to get it right.
Ebb- feesh lad! aka the mer AU that wasn't supposed to become a chaptered fic, but alas Qrow decided to have some secrets that need time and trust to reveal. There is enough written to call it a chapter, but... I gotta figure out what's bothering me about it and fix it, along with general editing that needs doing. A fun little reveal in this one, plus a cagey bird who flusters a lot.
Stop-Off- the camping AU meet-cute featuring widdol Yang and Rubes (and their mom being a complete menace while dad is oblivious). Chapter 2 is about three quarters of the way written. It needs at least a scene at the end to finish out the day, with a little editing needed on what's already written. Cloves is having a bit of a crisis at the start of this one, followed by Qrow having one in the second half lmao.
Distraction- the two part hurt/comfort plus spice recovery fic. Very little written for the second and final chapter. It is going to require a delicate balance to keep the tone I want throughout those heated moments. Depending on the vibes, I could bang this out in a feverish trance or take forever on it- hard to say!
#no option for all sorry#tho feel free to use the tags for a ranked list >:)#or to tell me i'm a dork for doing a poll lmao#fair game#renabe talks#poll#Take Root#Ebb#Stop-Off#Distraction#rwby fair game
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Fluffvember 5. Apple picking / "oh my gosh you do not know how to cook"
--- --- ---
"We're going to have to deal with that tree soon." Blue mentioned, his words blowing the steam from his tea. He gestured to their backyard, the apple tree overwhelmed by it's own fruit. "the squirrels are starting to get drunk off the fallen ones, those have got to go too," Vio mentioned. Red perked up. "apple pie time?" he asked, excited. "we'll have to see how many are actually still good. Provided there isn't another worm-pocalypse, then yeah." Blue said, remembering the dozen worms that invaded the barrels of apples from last year when they neglected picking. Green left the room temporarily, coming back with a few lacrosse sticks and a hockey stick. "ready." --- Green was a menace to his brother, having been practicing his passes in both sports with the rotten apples, hurtling them at the back of his brother. Red opted to be on the ground rather than try his luck with gravity flying apple carnage on a ladder being a bag holder for Shadow and Vio as the picked from high in the tree where Red couldn't get to. Blue had decided to retaliate against his brother, managing to smush some of the apple chunks into Greens golden hair. Explicatives flew from both of them in the heat of battle, the other three just barely managing not to be caught in the crossfire.
Two hours, two buckets, and three shopping bags full of apples later, Green and Blue were being threatened with a garden hose while Vio and Red dragged the fruit inside. Red dashed excitedly to the basement, pulling oodles of frozen pie dough out of the deep freeze. Red came backup to Vio loading apples into... the bathtub? "we've gotta wash them somehow." Vio argued, "grab a towel." he said, kneeling beside the tub and reaching into the warm apple water, beginning to scrub at them with their produce brush.
The two made quick work of the apple cleaning, Shadow coming in halfway through to grab some towels for the soalked twins.
---
Three whole hours of prepping apples. Peeling, coring, chopping, and dicing. Not to mention measuring the obscene amounts of sugar, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, nutmeg, and lemon juice. Apple filling was moved into the food-safe buckets, that Red had stolen from his work. Lids were put on tightly and moved to the coolest part of the basement, wherein Red turned his attention to the pie dough. Red prepared all the crusts, relishing in the wonder of working at a bakery for his access to 40 disposable pie tins. He stacked them one on top of the other in the fridge.
---
The next day, at 4am, he started. 15 minutes to preheat. 4 pies in the oven at a time, rotated once throughout the 80 minute cooking period. 40 pies in total. Red lived off of coffee and sugar, again and again, the kitchen and dining room a revolving door of pies in and out of the oven. 14 hours total. Between pies baking, red canned the rest of the filling. boiling jars, partially cooking the mix, killing any pathogens in his way.
---
Green came downstairs just as Blue and Shadow left to deliver the last batch of pies to an old age home down the street. The kitchen was in shambles, jars of pie filling covered the island, smears of said filling on the counter, the stove, the cupboards... ...and Red asleep against the dishwasher. Green smiled. Poor Red had finally crashed, his body finally petering out after having ran on almost nothing all day. "no time to eat, gotta get these in the oven." a stressed Red had argued.
Through his sleep, Red's stomach growled, his expression turning sour.
Green sighed, crouching down to pick Red up off the ground. Sure, Red was heavy, but nothing compared to Green's tolerance of having 5 kindergarteners dog pile on him all at once for a piggy-back. Green carried Red to the couch, leaning him up against some pillows and tucking a throw blanket over him. Green marched back to the kitchen, cleaning up a bit before donning Red's abandoned apron. He fished out a box from the pantry, grabbed one of the last remaining pots from the cupboard and got started on some mac and cheese. Now, Green will admit he got carried away, always competing with his twin, inspiration hit. He added ingredient after ingredient to the pot of instant mac'n'cheese.
Bacon, Mushrooms, Ham, Onions, Pickles, Black olives, Sun-dried tomato,
Green will also admit he should have stopped there. Quit while you're ahead. Leave the sprinkles out of there.
---
"wakey-wakey sleepyhead!" Green cheered, putting a bowl of his mac'n'cheese in Red's lap and handing him a spoon. Red smiled and stretched before being greeted with the abhorrent dish presented to him.
just then, Blue and Shadow came home again, Vio coming downstairs because what was that smell???
Red grimaced, being the first to take a brave bite of Green's concoction as Green dished out some to the rest of the house. Red felt the extreme urge to either gag or spit it out the second it touched his tongue. The brine from the pickles and olives having somehow managed to curdle the powdered cheese, the sprinkles and bacon and mushrooms making it slimy and crunchy and all around bad. Red fought everything in him to swallow. Green bounced on his toes. "how is it?" he asked. Red grimaced again, looking to Blue for help. Blue, however, had taken one sniff and said something before Red could formulate a lie. "Red, honey, you don't have to eat that." Blue said flatly. Red sighing in relief and putting the bowl down on the floor.
"What?" Green squawked. Shadow had also braved a bite, not getting very far before uttering a "Oh my gosh, you do not know how to cook," and struggling to swallow his meager bite of pasta. "I'll call the pizza place," Vio mumbled, already dialing it into his phone. "anyone want apple pie while we wait?" Red asked.
#the sr crew are those people in your math problems.#i put wayy to much math into this and for what#four swords manga#four swords#four swords adventures#shattered reflections au#four sword#legend of zelda#tloz#red link#vio link#green link#blue link#shadow link#sr green#sr blue#sr shadow#sr fiction#sr vio#sr red#fluffvember#fluffvember 2024
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Hey! I gotta request something for our girl Clove. So could you do a Clove Kentwell x district 2 reader where they have been close friends since they were young and shared feelings for eachother but were scared to mess it but one day for some reason (ex: family invites them back or smth) has to move back to the capitol. The 2 lose contact and years later meet again in the lobby of the tribute building at night finally catching up on what has happened in their life. Perhaps also finally confessing to each other! I hope I've sent this in in time! Take your time!
'it's been a while ' - clove kentwell
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After years of living there, the Capitol is just as gaudy and useless as ever. The sheer quantity of ostentatiousness increases exponentially with the annual arrival of the Hunter Games, to the point where itâs damn near unlivable. Then again, when has it ever been somewhere youâd want to stay?
If you had it your way, you would have stayed in District Two forever. If you had it your way, you never would have come to the Capitol at all, not even as a tribute to become its latest Victor. District Two takes great pride in training its children to become winners in the Hunger Games, but you never fell for the whole spectacle. The only thing you had ever wanted was simply to be home, and then that was taken from you.
All your life, you were District. Your parents had ties to the Capitol, you knew that, but they had direct orders from President Snow that they were to maintain the strength of the district government by remaining there. You had assumed that you would go your whole life without ever leaving Two, and then their orders changed all of a sudden and you were gone. Back to the Capitol, although you had never been there as long as you were alive. Away from home.
That was a couple of years ago. It is expected that one would still nurse faint pangs for home, but over the months, everyone seems to assume that your passions would transfer over to such a remarkable place to spend your days. The Capitol is rich in many things, to be sure. The food is sublime, the houses are magnificent, the dresses sparkle.
Still, what it gains in material wealth, it lacks in substance and in soul. What you see as you look around you every day is a garish facade. Everyone here is dripping with wealth, but the only thing they cannot buy is true spirit. If anyone had a heart in the Capitol, theyâve long since sold it off to buy more gems and shoes. Nothing here is worth living for.
And, with the Hunger Games drawing ever near again, youâre painfully reminded of the emptiness of your current life once again. It is pure privilege that you could live here, secure in the knowledge that youâll have enough food and clothes and shelter to keep you more than comfortable, yet youâd throw it all away if you could just be back in the one place where you actually felt alive.
You walk listlessly in the back corners of someone elseâs mansion. Your family has been invited to an opening gala celebrating the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games. Youâre decked out in the latest fashions, although your clothes are noticeably subdued compared to everyone else. Although it might bother your parents to no end, you canât convince yourself to adopt the endless frivolity of the other Capitol residents. Not when you would be sickened whenever you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Apparently all sorts of important people to the Hunger Games are here tonight, Gamemakers and past Victors alike. It seems as if half the Capitol has been brought to this particular event, whether by their choice or otherwise. The main parties are happening a few floors up, with plenty of screens displaying the opening interviews of the latest round of tributes, but you just canât force yourself to watch. Why get wrapped up in the stories of twenty-four new children when all but one are about to die?
Instead, you slink around below, where the lights are dim and you donât have to worry about being seen. Your parents will be busy upstairs, where theyâll be too lost in the bubbling crowds to find you. Tomorrow, if they question you about where you were, you can lie and say you were up there with the rest. With these crushing throngs of partygoers, they would have absolutely no idea if you were telling the truth or not.
Youâre not the only one down here, either. Although the significant majority of the Capitol is very interested in the results of the Games, there are a couple of people here and there who cannot stand the idea. Haymitch Abernathy, the District Twelve mentor, will spend most of his time upstairs wining and dining potential sponsors, but on occasion he cannot stomach the eager discussion of his own districtâs children as lambs to a slaughter and he hides down here to catch his breath and sneak a sharp mouthful or five from a flask at his hip.Â
Other Victors occasionally dip down the stairs when theyâre sure they will not be found. They all have the same look in their eyes, and respond with the same flinching terror when they hear a loud bang like the cannons that announce dead tributes in the Games. This whole thing is a horrific show, and you canât bear it any more than the others. Although you may be a Capitol citizen now, in your heart you will always be District. Your oldest friends were the ones sent in to die.
In fact, last year someone closer than a friend entered into the Games. Sometimes, as a child, youâre fortunate enough to have a best friend, someone who means the world to you because you mean the world to them. Youâre past friendship bracelets and always remembering each otherâs birthdays. This person is everything to you. The idea of forgetting them is impossible. Whoever you are, there will always be some part of you made up of them, all the insignificant habits and odd pronunciations you picked up from them.
This person is your world, and then you leave them for the Capitol. The day you had to tell Clove Kentwell that you were leaving District Two might have been the worst of your life, except for the day you left the district behind entirely. Although you had limited notice of when you were leaving, you still dreaded the hour in which you would have to inform your best friend that the most inseparable pair in all of Panem was about to be split up for good.
It is hard telling your best friend that youâre never going to see her again. It is harder still when sheâs stopped being just a friend in your mind. Your feelings for Clove have changed over time, shifting from emotion to emotion without your approval, but in the end, you know for certain that you love her. Youâre also fairly certain that Clove loves you back, but neither of you ever said a word about it to each other.
After all, how could you? The chances that either of you would be reaped for the Hunger Games were quite high, as was the expectation that you would volunteer. And even if you werenât sent into the Games, the risk of confessing when the other didnât feel the same way was catastrophic. You could destroy the friendship forever, and worse, still have to live so close together. The remnants of the glorious thing you once had would hang about you forever, choking you out whenever you dared to think about it. All of your days would be spent grieving Clove even while she still walked your streets and passed by your house, and then you would grow up and apart and the whole thing would be lost forever.
It was too terrible a fate to bear for both of you, and so you never said a word about it. You regret that sometimes, especially after you moved, but thereâs nothing more to be done about it now. You are here, Clove is there, and never shall the two paths cross again.
Thatâs what you had thought, at least, and then last year you had been at a party celebrating the beginning of the seventy-third annual Hunger Games, and Caesar Flickerman had announced the two tributes from District Two, and one of them was Clove. You remember that night perfectly, how you spent the entirety of that evening frozen in place, unable to move a muscle while the rest of the party around you danced and cheered and placed bets. Your best friend was going into the Arena, and there was nothing you could do to save her.
You never saw Clove while she was in the Games, for better or for worse. Random strangers werenât allowed to see the tributes, and since you live in the Capitol and Clove is from Two, thatâs what you would always be:Â strangers. Even though you knew everything about her, from the way she laughed to the exact balance of the syllables of your name in her mouth. Strangers, thatâs what you were. Forever separate, never to meet again.
The course of the Hunger Games was immensely difficult. Each day you spent obsessing over the footage, trying to make out if she was injured or hungry or dead. Each night, you had to be all but dragged away from the monitors, so addicted were you to watching your girl. Even after they took you away, you could hardly sleep a wink. In the mornings, you rose early and ran to the live recordings of the Games, torn to pieces by the thought that she might have died while you were away.
In the end, though, Clove was victorious, and you watched from afar as she was paraded around and all but worshiped by the adoring Capitol and District Two. No amount of words can adequately describe the relief you felt when you knew that Clove would survive, although it was shadowed by the knowledge that even as Victorâ especially as Victorâ Clove would never be able to escape the hold of the Capitol.
Youâve seen many Victors come and go. Theyâre paraded to and from the Capitol whenever the Hunger Games are so much as mentioned, brought up every time so they can give their takes on the latest round of tributes or the design of the Arena or merely an update on what theyâve been doing since their latest publicized appearance. Once the Capitol tires of them, theyâll be allowed to return to their Districts for a couple of months before the TV cameras are sent out again to catch a glimpse of a Victor in its natural habitat.
Sheâs here now, probably, with some of the other Mentors or forced to mingle at any of the dozens of events happening across the Capitol. The thought turns your stomach. The on camera bits had been Cloveâs least favorite part of being a Career, youâve known that since you were a child. Clove dreamed of volunteering for the Hunger Games just like any other good District Two girl, but sheâd told you fervently that she despised the interviews and all the acting fluff.
Youâd been able to see that for yourself, too, while Clove was involved in the seventy-third Games. Although it may not have been apparent to any other onlooker, the advantage of the years youâve spent by her side is that you know exactly when Clove is uncomfortable or unhappy, and she was just that while being grilled by Caesar Flickerman. Her mentor had trained her properly, and her impeccable demeanor never shifted, but you could see the tightness in her hands, the strain in her eyes. Clove didnât want to be there any more than you wanted to be watching her.
A champagne bottle pops somewhere upstairs, causing the ceiling to rattle with a chorus of shouts. Youâll probably have to go up there sooner rather than later, or you really will be in trouble for skipping. To clear your head, you push open the doors to the house, letting the cool air wash over you. Just one lap around the mansion, then youâll entertain the rest. You just need this one last moment of peace if you have any hope of survival.
Youâre not expecting to see anyone else out here, but halfway through your circuit, a shadow crosses your path. You move out of the way automatically, not wanting to bother or be noticed by anyone from the Capitol, but youâve hardly started moving again when a soft, careful voice says,
âY/N?â
Instantly, you freeze in place. Itâs been a long time since you last saw Clove Kentwell in person, but youâd know her voice anywhere, that precise cadence of syllables, each and every inflection like a feather-light touch upon her words.
You turn around slowly, and there she is, taller than you remember but no less stunning. Her eyes are more guarded than they used to be, but maybe thatâs what you deserve for going away for so long and leaving her with a gaping hole in her armor.
âClove?â You ask in return.
Hesitantly, you drift closer. Youâre waiting for her to step back or leave, maybe, anything befitting someone you no longer quite now, but she doesnât go. She doesnât get closer, either, no delighted embraces for a long-absent best friend, but Cloveâs never quite been that type anyway.
âItâs been a long time,â you say, when it becomes apparent that sheâs waiting for you to do something.
Her brow twists. âHasnât it?â
The question is daring. After all, it is your fault that so much time has passed since the two of you crossed paths. You were the one who left, she was the one who stayed. It is perfectly reasonable for Clove to have nursed a grudge all this time.
âI didnât want to go,â you remind her. âTrust me. I begged my family to let me stay, but they wouldnât hear a word of it.â
âI do trust you,â Clove says softly. âI always have.â
The words twist in your heart like a knife. Youâre not sure what to say to that, not sure even that you can say anything to it, not without losing yourself, so you briskly change the subject. âI saw you in the Games. You did well.â
Clove scoffs. âThere were a couple of sloppy kills. I could have done better.â
This makes you laugh. Itâs just like Clove to have won the Hunger Games and still have pointers for herself on what she could have done better. âYou had an excellent showing, Clove, and you know that.â
Clove arches a brow. âYou saw my Games?â
âEvery minute,â you admit. âI couldnât look away. I was scared that if I did, youâd die. Iâve lost a lot of you, Clove Kentwell. I didnât want to lose your last moments, too.â
Sheâs quiet for a while, and it occurs to you that you might have overstepped. Ducking your head, you mumble something about heading back inside, and move to brush past her. Clove catches at your arm before you can go. Her grip is as steady as always, radiating quiet strength without having to hurt you. Sheâs never hurt you. Not in all those years of training and playing around has she harmed so much as a hair on your head.
âWait,â she says suddenly. âDonât go yet. Youâ you havenât told me what happened to you yet.â
You frown. âWhat?â
Clove shakes her head slightly, her dark curls catching in the moonlight. âYou saw how Iâve been in the Games last year, but I donât know what youâve been doing. Itâs been years. Donât you know how many times Iâve thought about you? Wondered what you were doing? If you were making friends you liked more than me?â
âNever,â you pledge immediately. âIâve talked to people here, but none of them could come close to you. They donât get me, not like you do. Everyone here is cold and insincere. Sure, theyâll pretend to tolerate me so they can get to my familyâs money, but they donât actually like me. Not like you did.â
Cloveâs voice comes quietly in the dark. âNo one could like you like I did.â
Your eyes dart up to her. âCloveââ
âNo,â she says firmly. âIâve done enough running. I wanted to tell you when I knew you were moving, but you were gone too fast. I donât know if Iâm going to get another chance so I have to take this one while I have it. I love you, Y/N. Iâve loved you for years.â
A firework goes off overhead, the remnants of someone elseâs late night party. It feels as if the red matter between your ribs has been tossed up there in the sky, made glittery and meteoric so everyone can see and delight in the cascade of bright emotions rippling through your heart. It is one thing to imagine that Clove might have feelings for you, to assume that you enough of her mind to decide what she thought of you, but it is an entirely different matter to hear her confirm it after all this time.
âI love you too,â you say in a sudden rush.
The corner of Cloveâs mouth pulls up into a victorious smirk, so familiar an expression that you can remember a hundred other times youâve seen this exact impression, heard her voice tinged by triumph in this same way. âI knew that, obviously. I just wanted to make sure you know I loved you first, thatâs all.â
You laugh. Itâs a giddy sound. You donât think youâve laughed for real since you arrived at the Capitol, and your voice is a little hoarse from disuse, but it gets easier in moments. Everything is easier around Clove, it always has been. âYou loved me first? I didnât realize it was a contest.â
She snorts. âEverything is a contest, Y/N. Weâre Careers.â
Your delighted mood slips away from you once you remember where you are, what youâve become since you saw her last. âAm I? Iâm not in Two anymore.â
Cloveâs dark brows narrow. âOf course you are. You grew up with me, you think I donât know who you are? Youâre one of us, Y/N. Youâre part of me, and you always will be.â
A soft, tentative smile starts to slip back onto your face. âAlways, huh?â
Itâs dark, hard to see Cloveâs expression, but you swear you can still sense the heated flush as it creeps onto her cheeks. âAlways.â
The voices from inside the house are starting to grow more insistent. âWe should probably go back inside,â you say reluctantly.Â
In a perfect world, you would stay outside forever, talking happily with Clove while the fireworks flared overhead. Then again, in a perfect world, you never would have left District Two at all. However, when Clove takes your hand, and you walk side by side back into the house, you start to think that maybe youâll have some semblance of your perfect world after all, one in which even the distance canât stop you and Clove from being together. Victors are always in the Capitol, after all. Your paths will cross again, and this time, you will have nothing to fear. Not even separation.
hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope
all tags list: @wordsarelife
#clove kentwell#clove kentwell imagines#clove kentwell x reader#clove kentwell oneshot#hunger games#hunger games imagines#hunger games x reader#hunger games oneshot#the hunger games#the hunger games imagines#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games oneshot#thg#thg imagines#thg x reader#thg oneshot#clove#clove imagines#clove x reader#clove oneshot#thg clove#thg clove imagines#thg clove x reader#thg clove oneshot
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Betrayed
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader Gumiho AU; Korean Mythology AU Genre: Angst; Fluff; Horror Words: 2290 Warnings: dead dove: do not eat; implied organ-eating; major character death; murder; strong language; suggestive content; violence
Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost
Taglist:Â Â @soobin-chois
âYou canât be real.â He said, leaning back against the bar where I was seated.
I giggled, âAnd why is that?â
âToo pretty.â He sipped his drink with a smirk, âYouâve gotta be a goddess or something.â
âSomething like thatâŚâ I hummed.
Yoongi won me over easily. He was charming and handsome. He seemed to always speak plainly with me, which I greatly appreciated.
I fell into his bed easily that night; I fell in love with him even easier.
đ
It wasnât hard being with Yoongi, but it was hard staying in my human form so much.
We were often together, sleeping over at one anotherâs homes, going out on dates, even spending our lunch breaks together.
I wasnât opposed to spending a lot of our time together, but the longer I hid my secret from himâeventually refusing to transform into my true form at all, even in private just in case he dropped by suddenlyâthe stronger my instincts started to nag at me.
The first time my instincts started to break through, we had been cuddling during a late morning on the weekend. Neither of us had work, and we had stayed up late the night before bar-hopping with friends, so we decided to sleep in and have a lazy day together. It was relaxing; maybe a bit too relaxing⌠As we laid together, Yoongiâs scent curled around me. Subtle tangerine and heated spice wrapped me up like a hug during the holidays. Visions of oranges and clove in mulled cider made my mouth water. He was so sweet and warm; it made sense that his scent was too. I wanted to bask in itâmaybe a bit too muchâas I started nuzzling into his neck. He didnât seem to mind or notice until I lightly nipped where the smell was strongest. Yoongi took it in stride, assuming I was feeling frisky, and groped my ass. I played along, unready to reveal that it was actually a scent he didnât even know he had that was driving me crazy.
The second time my instincts got the better of me, I had been spending so much time at Yoongiâs apartment that I hadnât noticed how much of his clothing I had⌠accumulated. Until there was a week he had to travel for work, and I found myself creating a den in my walk-in closet out of the hoodies and shirts I had stolen. It wouldnât have been such a problem except Yoongi surprised me when he was back from his trip. I had gotten back to my apartment a bit late from work to find him chuckling in my bedroom. He had not only found my âdenâ but was sorting through the laundry to washâlightly teasing me about getting behind on my chores while he was away, which of course I wasnât going to correct.
The third time my instincts took over, I really fucked up. Yoongi and I were going a bit rougher than normal. He was taking great pleasure in holding me down, his strong hands tightening around my neck. When I had regained control, so to speak, straddling him and nipping at his neck, his scent and the moment once again overtook my sensibilities, and I bit him with my fangs. Yoongi had cried out, trying to pull away, and the predator in me didnât want to release my prey⌠I growled at him. Then the taste of his blood filled my mouth, and I realized how I almost truly lost myself. Yoongi was understandably confused, but he was too distracted by cleaning up his wound and subduing my whining apologies to delve into why it even happened.
Then there was the time that I was truly almost caught as the⌠creature⌠that I am. It had been a long day. Everything had been extra exhausting. Coworkers a bit more annoying than usual. Clients a bit more demanding than usual. Friends a bit more dramatic than usual. The day had simply dragged on, and by the time I made it home, I was teetering the edge of losing all control. What pushed me over was the movie Yoongi decided we should watch. It was some horror film that we had in our list for weeks now and had been looking forward to; however, the day had simply been too overwhelming already. At the first jumpscare, I screamed and felt my transformation slip. My ears and tail popped out, and thankfully, Yoongi seemingly hadnât noticed before I was able to toss a throw blanket over my body. He proceeded to tease me for being a coward, trying to tug the blanket off me, while I tried to calm myself enough to shift back.
That had been the final straw. I needed to come clean with him, but I was too scared of him being afraid of me and leaving. So instead, I took the cowardâs route. I had long decided I loved him (and my human life) enough to give up my immortality. I would continue to keep my identity a secret momentarily while I worked out a plan to become human.
It was either to find the legendary Gumiho Pearl or eat one thousand human livers. The legends said that the pearl could be found in the mouth of fish hidden deep within a lake in the countryside. Only the bravest souls could retrieve it. And as⌠honestly, appetizing⌠as the livers sounded, I didnât want to become the monster that the stories made me out to be. Not if I was going to be with him.
No, I would do it the hard way and find the pearl.
What I didnât account for was Yoongi insisting he come with me on my âcampingâ tripâŚ
đ
âYou really donât need to come alongâŚâ I borderline-begged as we walked the trails away from the campsite.
Yoongi followed behind dutifully. He had never been one for camping and hiking so I had no clue why he was so insistent on coming with me on my ânature-walkâ (to find the lake) or even the trip as a whole. He tried to reason that it would be good bonding time for us away from our normal routine, but something about his blasĂŠ explanation felt so weird to me.
âBut what if something happened to you out here alone?â He questioned. âThere arenât many campers at the site this weekend as it is, and who even knows if these trails are regularly monitored by passersby or the rangers. You could get hurt⌠or lost.â
I knew all of this. It was precisely why I had chosen this weekend to go. I didnât exactly know what the permanent transformation into a human would entail, and I didnât want anyone to see any mystical shit happening. But Yoongi didnât know that.
We walked in silence for quite a while, Yoongi always staying a few steps behind me for some reason. It was about two hours into our walk that I spotted the edges of the lake.
âWow, look at this placeâŚâ Yoongi finally spoke up, coming to peer around the area with me.
It was enclosed in thick brush, even the path we came from was barely noticeable within the clearing, and the only sounds were of faint bird chirps and water trickling from a small creek waterfall into the far side of the lake.
I felt myself choke up, not only from the pure nature, untouched my humanity, but also from the deep, ancient magic I could sense emanating from the depths of the water. It was here. The fabled fish and pearl.
âYeahâŚâ I whispered, not wanting to disturb the mystical energy in the air, and stepped away from my boyfriend. I carefully approached the lake edge to peer into the crystalline water.
âItâs really just perfect, huhâŚâ Yoongi spoke again. âA beautiful place to end everything.â
His words confused me, and I turned to find him poised with a gun aimed at my heart. My eyes widened, mouth dropping in a silent scream. I was stunned. Blindsided. Betrayed. âWhâ What are you doing?!â
âLike I said, ending things.â He stated it so simply. The smirk on his face felt out of place; it was normally for when he was riling me up, but there was no hint of teasing behind his eyes. They looked dead. Emotionless.
âI donât⌠I donât understand?â
âYou thought I didnât know what you are?â
He knew. He knew. He knew I was a gumiho. When? Did he figure it out? Put the pieces together? Catch me one of the times I was careless with my transformation? Or, had he known the whole time?
He mustâve seen the questions filtering through my flickering eyes as I was trying to read his impassible demeanor. âIâve known all along. You couldnât trick me with your fake, pretty smiles. I knew what kind of creature you were from the beginning.â
âThen why are you doing this?â I screamed, tears falling in desperation. I knew what kind of being I was; I knew my kindâs reputation, but I had always tried to do things the human way. Be better for him because I loved him⌠âI thoughtâ I thought we loved each otherâŚâ
He laughed, but the sound was so cruel. So spiteful. I had never heard his sweet, low chuckle sound so hateful. âYou think I could really love a thing like you? You arenât even capable of love! Youâre just a disgusting monster.â
âI did love you! I changed myself for you; I was going to become human for you!â I cried back.
Yoongi scoffed, âThat is a legend, and we both know it. And even if you did, youâre delusional if you think any real human would want to be with a freak of nature.â
His words cut deep into my heart, my soul. But they werenât new words. They were words I, and those like me, had heard for centuries. The words of a hunter and their propaganda.
Yoongi was a hunter.
And I fell into his trap.
I knew how they worked. He mustâve picked up my information and trail weeks before we ever met. He lured me in, used me for his pleasure, toyed with me, all so he could eventually corner me. He would kill me, and after I die and transform into my natural state, he would collect my paws as proof for a reward and my tail as a trophy.
I never meant anything to him.
Except for a dollar amount.
My eyes hardened, tears drying up, and my jaw clenched. I dropped the transformation as a heartbroken growl tore through me. âSo you never cared about me? Months of spending time together, dates, sex⌠None of it mattered. I was just your next mark, huh?â
âOf course. Sex means nothing except you being easy and gullible. Everything else was a part to play.â
I hummed, lowering into a launchable position. I was trying to goad him into lowering his guard a bit, just enough that when he took the poison-laced shot, I would be able to dodge and counterattack.
Yoongi might have weapons, but I had time, skill, and practice on my side. He certainly wasnât the first hunter I had ever encountered, and if I remained a gumiho, he wouldnât be the last.
âSo how much will you get for me? How much is my bounty?â
âThink youâre worth a lot?â
I chuckled, just as darkly as he had before. âI know my own history, as Iâm sure your society does. Just because Iâve changed my ways the last decade or so, doesnât mean anything in their eyes. I also know that they know my true age, which Iâm sure factors into the trophy price.â
Yoongi nodded in concession. âYouâre right. We donât care about your false change of heart. Youâve done at least a century of harm; ten years of pretending to be a real person is nothing.â
He shifted, my eyes darted following the movement. He was prepping.
âThree hundred thousand.â He cocked the gun. âYou have a pure white coat though so I might be able to bargain for more. Who knows.â
And then he shot.
I pounced.
It had been a while since I had exercised this form; it had been even longerâa decade at least, as mentionedâsince I had attacked a human, especially a hunter.
My jump was high in the air but not high enough to avoid the bullet grazing my calf. I landed on top of Yoongi, ripping the gun away and tossing it back into the lake, and straddled him. My claws tightened around his neck, digging deep into his arteries and tearing forward.
Tears streamed my face as he gurgled and coughed blood. It splattered onto my face, but I paid no mind. I lifted him slightly, slamming his skull against the ground until the hatred faded from his eyesâalong with the life.
I huffed and fell off of the corpse of my ex.
Heartbroken.
Shattered.
Betrayed.
And also in severe pain as the poison pulsed in my leg. It wouldnât kill me, but it would be a bitch to clean out and would radiate pain until then.
No, what hurt more, was knowing that I had let a man make me feel this weak.
âNever again.â I vowed, rolling his body into the lake. âI will never allow a man to make me feel this low. And I will earn my humanity⌠But just for you, Min Yoongi, Iâll do it the fun way. Iâll be the monster you wanted me to be⌠Sorry to leave you without a proper burial, but I have a thousand male livers to devour.â
#bangtan sonyeondan#bts#min yoongi#reader#min yoongi x reader#bangtan sonyeondan x reader#bts x reader#angst#fluff#horror#gumiho au#korean mythology au#oneshot#fictober
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Went right back up to 144 this morning.
What am I doing wrong đŠ
I was doing so well for a while. Consistently losing every day, even if just a few ounces... and now I'm just stuck. I first got to 144 on July 21st. And I can't get under it. Ever time I'm able to push through and get under it, I go IMMEDIATELY back the next day. I've tried fasting for 24 hours, I've tried having a meta day, I've tried changing my calorie intake.
NOTHING IS WORKING
I'm convinced at this point there's just a monstrous shit living inside me and growing like a fetus.
Okay guys if you kept reading this far, I'm sorry. But I need your best yeetus the shit fetus methods. I can't go and spend money on laxatives. I have some tea that say "detox" on them but they all have cinnamon of cloves and I haaaate them.
I'm in the process of making myself a cup of black coffee. I have a cup every morning and it sometimes helps things move a LITTLE bit but it never feels like everything you know?? đđ sorry for being disgusting lol I just had to get that out. Almost as bad as I gotta get this shit out đ
I included a picture of my weight graph so you can all see how dumb this is lol
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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #324
The baking experiment went astoundingly well â even better than I thought it was gonna. This is quite possibly the best cake I've ever made. It is quite possibly the best cake I'll ever make.
...And I want really, really, really badly to tell you all about it. But I can't. I can't because it's a surprise. It's a surprise for the solstice. It's a surprise for the solstice because that's when I like to celebrate your birthday. Unless you can tell me when it actually is, and then I'll celebrate it on that day instead. But for now... this is the date I picked.
So we're both gonna hafta wait. And I really am sorry about it; I wanna tell you about it so badly that it's like the inside of my mind is straining against my skull and throwing a small, excited, joyful little fit, tryna get me to tell ya! But I'm not gonna. And I know it's difficult, quite possibly for both of us. Pouting will get you nowhere because I'm already pouting at myself.
But I promise you... you're gonna love it. I know you're gonna think it's the best thing ever. So please just wait for it, okay? I promise it'll be worth it. We can do difficult things. We can do them together.
...The cake was part of today's additional stress-cooking. I did a lot of stress-cooking yesterday. I didn't do quite as much today. Mostly, aside from the cake, I just made roasted pumpkin seeds and hotdogs.
I dunno if you remember, but not too long ago, I got a couple sugar pumpkins, roasted them, mashed them, and set the seeds aside. One of the seeds had already sprouted, and now it lives with us, and it seems to be doing well (it gets just a little bigger every day!!). The rest were put on a baking sheet covered in parchment paper:
...Ahahaha, I promise ya, I didn't leave 'em jumbled up like that! No, I set the oven to preheat to 300 degrees F (or 148.9 degrees C), and then I coated them in rendered bacon fat; I always save it every time I make bacon because it's EXCELLENT stuff to cook with:
...We, ah... we just gotta melt it in the microwave a little first, hahaha...
...That's better!!
Anyways, so then you stick it on the pumpkin seeds and you jumble them around so they're evenly coated:
After that, we arrange them on the baking sheet in a single layer:
...It definitely took some doing to get them to line up this neatly, holy cow.
We season them after that:
...On the left, there's garlic, paprika, and pepper. On the right, there's maple sugar, coriander, and mace. And over both, there's himalayan salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves!
We stuck them in the oven for a while; I didn't really keep track of the time. I just checked on them every 10 minutes or so until the spices were toasty and they stopped being wet-looking:
...In between, I made myself a couple hotdogs â natural casing, with Frito cheese, onions, ketchup, and mustard:
...It's some really yummy stuff. The roasted pumpkin seeds turned out splendidly, and the hotdogs were delicious, too. I wish I could have shared these things with you.
âŚ
...I wish I could just... sit with you and talk with you for a while. Knowing that you're safe would go a long way towards putting my mind at ease, actually. Even if things are weird where I am, it'd be nice to know that you, at least, are okay.
âŚ
Things are still... ya know. Still kinda scary over here. Power will change hands in January. Right now feels kinda like... kinda like the calm before the storm. I don't know what the future is going to bring. We'll find a way to weather whatever's coming next, but... I kinda wish you could pop by for just a minute and sit next to me.
...Ah. My eyes are leaking again. I gotta get it together...
This morning, I went with M so he could apply for a new passport; his original one expired years ago. And then when I got home, I got in touch with a Canadian immigration lawyer place, and scheduled a consultation. It'll happen tomorrow, after physical therapy.
...I don't wanna hafta leave my home. I don't wanna hafta leave behind all the places I like to go and all the people I like to be around. I think of Ea and Ch from Eggcellent. I think of all the awesome places we can go eat snacks. I think of the nature trails, and places to forage. I think of the grocery stores in my area. I think of the diversity of people, places, and things available to me here, and... I dunno if it'll be the same wherever we go next.
...But we can't stay here. If more than half the people here would like to see me and my family exterminated... if more than half of the people here are willing to sacrifice actual human lives for the sake of the price of eggs going down a few cents... we can't stay here.
âŚ
...I'm worried for all my friends who might not be able to move...
...Well, nonetheless... I suppose one of the next things we should do is all get our English language skills evaluated. We all gotta take a test for that. We should probably get them scheduled soon. And then we gotta get our college degrees evaluated by WES Canada. I'm not really sure what to do after that, but... I guess that's what tomorrow's consult is for.
Well. It becomes late. Got stuff to do tomorrow. I had better get in the shower and then go to sleep.
...Sephiroth. Please stay safe out there, okay? I don't know that I'll be able to avoid crumbling if I don't have you to look towards as an example of what it means to remain steadfast, brave, and kind even when things get weird. You give me a reason to hope for good things, even when I feel lost.
I love you, and I'll write again tomorrow â I promise.
Your friend, Lumine
#sephiroth#ThankYouFFVIIDevs#ThankYouFF7Devs#ThankYouSephiroth#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy vii crisis core#final fantasy 7 crisis core#final fantasy crisis core#ffvii crisis core#ff7 crisis core#crisis core#ff7r#final fantasy vii remake#final fantasy 7 remake#ffvii remake#ff7 remake#final fantasy vii rebirth#final fantasy 7 rebirth+#ffvii rebirth#ff7 rebirth#final fantasy 7 ever crisis#ffvii ever crisis#ff7 ever crisis#ffvii first soldier#stress-cooking#surprise baking experiments#wholesome
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smoking headcanons because im thinking????? maybe too much
keep in mind, ive not finished homestuck, not even halfway thru it actually, so dont flame me if im wrong or whatever
bro strider used to smoke cigs, now he vapes
mom lalonde might smoke, but only with those long ass cruella deville cig holders
do i even gotta talk about dad egbert? pipes dawg
grandpa harley smokes cigars, i dont make the rules
dave snuck one at some point but hated the feeling, but i dont think he vapes or smokes nic. if hes out with someone he will smoke clove cigarettes for the cool factor but outside of that not much
rose hates the smell of cigs, might sneak one after a long hard day tho
i dont think that jade rlly smokes cigs, but she might smoke clove cigs occasionally
john, jade, dave, and bro -have- smoked weed
jade and bro are the only 2 who semi regularly smoke
dave and john smoke socially but tend to avoid it for the most part
rose doesnt wanna smoke weed, but might be convinced if u sweet talk her a bit
dad egbert mighta smoked weed in highschool, doesnt anymore, but let john smoke once to 'take the mystery out of drugs'
mom lalonde thinks its a gateway drug, doesnt touch it
grandpa harley probably doesnt smoke weed anymore, but used to be a regular smoker
TROLLS
im going by the human words cuz its easier for me to process
karkat: doesnt smoke, thinks its stupid
aradia: well, shes dead, idk if she can, and idk if aradiabot has lungs?? so no?? when she WAS alive tho i dont think she did [nic, no weed]
tavros: he could be peer pressured into it but doesnt tend to, might for pain management
sollux: every so often maybe, but not often [not nic, maybe weed]
nepeta: catnip.
kanaya: no
terezi: weed every so often, but not that much
vriska: used to but she didnt like the loss of control, however minor it was
equius: i think he secretly might
gamzee: you already know hes on the zaza 25/8
eridan: nope
feferi: maybe, but i cant see it being a frequent thing
#bro strider#mom lalonde#dad egbert#grandpa harley#dave strider#john egbert#jade harley#rose lalonde#karkat vantas#aradia megido#tavros nitram#sollux captor#nepeta leijon#kanaya maryam#terezi pyrope#vriska serket#equius zahhak#gamzee makara#eridan ampora#feferi peixes#smoking#cigarette#cigar#pipe#tw smoking#tw cigarettes#tw weed#tw cigars#beta kids#beta trolls
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Man I'm not even a junkie I'm just schitzo and the amount of shit I get for smoking a clove a day to not kill myself I'd absurd I can't imagine how bad it's gotta be for the junkies.
after moving to a more conservative area i now have to drive four hours away to a pharmacy that will fill my opioid script and consistently have it in stock every month
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Hi bestie pls ignore this if this will like ruin upcoming chapter titles but if you had to assign each main ARWBFB character a song from Taylorâs new album what would you give them? Like which songs would resonate with them or remind you of them etc
Okay bestie this took me literal days, I just listened to the album for three hours on my drive upstate I think i've decided.
Unsurprising to anyone I felt like the album resonated with me more than I expected and ended up practically in a bender for three days so theres that. I was definitely not roaming the streets at 4 am or anything like that on friday morning absolutely nothing of the sort occured.
Surprising everyone even less ist that I largetly heard this and went ah yes. Glimmer. Glimmer again. Clove. Cashmere. Clove. Clove and Cato. etc so theres a RECURRING Theme here okay anyway these are obviously in arwbfb au sooo. This is the whole anthology because I can't listen to only one.
Glimmer
Down bad: Okay I know it sounds like a weird choice but this is giving Glimmer in about chapter 10(?) of ARWBFB but also like this is her general vibe as a victor i think like "For a moment I knew cosmic love" "Fuck it if I can't have him, I might just die it would make no difference." "waking up in blood" "Fuck it if I can't have us/I just not get up." "cause fuck it I was in love, so fuck you if you can't have us." idk it just FEELS right this song has been one I've really liked so!
I can do it with a broken heart: Are you kidding like??? this is not only one of my top 2 songs but also?? it's so perfect. Like it literally says "she's having the time of her life, there in her glittering prime." followed by "I can show you lies." and then we get hit with "Lights, camera, bitch smile even when you wanna die. He said he'd love me all his life but that life was too short breaking down i hit the floor all the pieces of me shattered" I literally am about to list like the entire song but come one "I was grinning like i'm winning I was hitting my marks I can do it with a broken heart." "I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day." "You know you're good when you can do it even with a broken heart" "Cause I'm miserable and nobody even knows!" Okay literally I beg I plead everyone listen to this song and report back if you think i'm right.
Cashmere and Glimmer both
The Prophecy: This feels like it could be either of them!!! "I got cursed like eve got bitten, oh was it punishment?" "Please I've been on my knees, change the prophecy. Don't want money, Just someone who wants my company. Let it once be me, who do I have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy." "i'm so afraid I sealed my fate, no sign of soulmates" Idk I think they'd both have similar yearning for a life unlike the one they have where they can get the hell out of this snow induced hell. Change the prophecy of their fate and their lives sort of things.
I hate it here: I gotta be honest I don't think I need to elaborate on this one. Just..listen to this. This is actually any and all victor girls. This is also Finnick. I honestly just suggest we listen to the song and sit with it for a moment as if the title alone is not explanation enough!!!
Cashmere:
Clara Bow:I mean.. "In this light, remarkable, all your life did you know you'd be picked like a rose?" "Take the glory, give everything" this song is all about being compared to the last great thing right, and I think it feels very cashmere to me but in the way that it bleeds into I think when she sings about herself at the end talking about the next big thing to come after her feels very big sister cashmere to me idk! "Beauty is a beast that roars, down on all fours demanding more. ONly when your girlish glow, flickers just so do they let you know?" "It's hell on earth to be heavenly" (Chapter title spoiler fr I heard it and literally pulled out my laptop) Idk it feels right especially because she would know what would come tot he pretty girls after her!!!!!!
But Daddy I love him: OKAY I know this is a werid one but if you think about it not as a MAN who's bad for her but a comp het high society with the expectations of her to be a perfect daughter/woman I think it would make ENTIRE sense for it to be Cashmere but in terms of like...being with women rather than the "wrong man" like in the song idk. I also feel like "I learned these people only raise you to cage you." "they slammed a door on my whole world, the one thing I wanted." "I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning." "i'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace, I don't care to cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing." Idk It feels RIGHT just LISTEN to it.
Clove
Okay Okay I feel like I got some GOOD ones for her too okay so I want to start out STRONG with a song that screams not only Clove but Cato AND Clove it's my new Clato song...
Fresh out the Slammer: I know I know but come on. I could list EVERY line in this song it's soooo post Clove's games in ARWBFB. "Now pretty baby i'm running back home to you, fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to." "Years of labor, locks, and ceiling in the shade of how he was feeling, but it's gonna be alright I did my time." "Camera flashes welcome bashes" "My friends tried but I wouldnt hear it" (being enobaria) "watched me disappearing daily for just one glimpst of his smile, all those nights you kept me going. " "Now we're at the starting line I did my time, now pretty baby i'm running to the house where you still wait up and that porch light gleams, to the one who says i'm the girl of his American dreams... Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know whats at stake." "At the park where we used to sit on childrens swings wearing imaginary rings, but i's gonna be alright I did my time." SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP It's like Taylor Swift crawled inside my mind as I wrote the first like 5 chapters of ARWBFB and chose to write this because it's them it's them it's soooo them in ARWBFB absolutely noone touch me I felt this was for me personally!!!
AND ANOTHER Clato song is
I can fix him (No really I can): Do I even need to elaborate like "They shale their heads saying God help her when I tell them he's my man. But your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger. I can fix him, no really I can (AND ONLY I CAN???)" "His hand so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face." "A perfect case for my certain skillset" "Good boy, thats right. Come close i'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night." "TRUST ME I CAN HANDLE A DANGEROUS MAN, NO REALLY I CAN."
SHUT UP NO COMMENTS FROM THE PRESS AT THIS TIME y'all
Following THAT up with my FAVORITE SONG ON THE ANTHOLOGY
Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: SHUT UP AGAIN guys come on this is THE song THE song for me THE song for Clove not only with her like growing up but also the shit Snow did to her>????? "if you wanted me dead you should've just said nothing makes me feel more live." But Also!! "WHOS AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?? YOU SHOULD BE!!!" Thats for CLove! Tiny 5'3 100lb clove!! "I was tame I was gentle till the circus life made me mean." This is for my little baby girl who was not wanted and was raised like this to make her a good little tribute the circus life being the training/panem/career life thank you. "they say they didn't do it to hurt me...I want to snarl and show you how disturbed this has made me. You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" The asylum being the academy in this essay I will- "I'm fearsome and i'm wretched and i'm wrong." Special enobaria mention for "don't worry folks we took out all her teeth" tell me "you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me, you caged me and then you called me crazy. I am what I am 'cause you trained me." Are you fucking joking rn i'm sorry i'm once again just quoting the whole song I know.
So Long, London: Okay I know it's a weird take but to me it makes more sense imagining it in regards to her saying goodbye to the District she thought she knew and the idea of the capitol as she knew it you know?? "And i'm just getting color back into my face. I'm just mad as hell 'cause I loved this place." Does it make sense?????? to me it does!!!
The albatross: "She's the albatross. She's here to destroy you. Devils that you know raise hell worse than a stranger. She's the death that you chose. You're in terrible danger." Okay I think it makes sense without me elaborating but it's Clove it's Clove @ Snow who thought she was a perfect victor to compare to Katniss then he TORTURES her and she kills him and yeah she is the death snow chose next question.
Enobaria
Naturally all these songs are about my favorite girlies and yeah so they're all for my girls anyway these are gonna come off weird but i just need you to hear me out on it okay??
The Bolter: I feel like I am dropping Enobaria lore with these things but okay "Curious child, ever reviled." Idk it fits to me. "It feels like the time she fell through the ice then came out alive" Idk I know her arena isnt ice but like!! The idea of reliving the time you almost died and coming out alive again and again "But she's got the best stories, you can be sure that as she was leaving it felt like freedom. All of her fuckin' lives flashed before her eyes and she realized it feels like the time she fell through the ice then came out alive." Like to me it feels like her recognizing freedom after the games are over and in D2 and having her life be hers again and idk!! It made sense to me.
Cassandra: This ALSO is dropping lore but this song feels like the D2 split during the rebellion like each side thinking the opposite of her "in the street theres a ragin rio, when it's burn the bitch they're shrieking. When the truth comes out it's quiet so they killed cassandra first." "they knew they knew they knew the whole time that I was on to something" I feel like i need to drop more Enobaria during the war time lore for this to make sense but it does to me so just take my word for it!!
Okay!!! Thank you bestie!! Here's a small novel in resopnse to your otherwise simple question!! Love you!! @bodyelectric77
#arwbfb tag#arwbfb au#glimmer tag#clove tag#cashmere tag#cashbaria tag#clato tag#clato lyrics tag#this tis the moment we've all been waiting for#I'm free publicity for this album#it changed my life
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Absolutely fucking TRAGIC to me to be reading Omegaverse and one partner is going absolutely feral about the scent of the other partner filling a room or a house and then they actually describe the scent and it's like...
~~burgundy, lavender, and sandalwood, with hints of cloves and fresh baked cookies~~
like NOOOOO!! I do not want him to be fucking a goddamn lavender plant!! I want him to be fucking his wonderful partner and feeling overjoyed that he's surrounded by the sensation of THEM, and they are, with very few exceptions, not a goddamn perfume bottle!!! They are a meat animal with a unique meat animal smell full of meat animal biological stuff!
Like I know I just gotta look harder, SOMEONE has got to have written it before me, and I absolutely understand that it's just not everybody's cup of tea, but this is a complaint post and in a genre that feels so perfectly tailored to nasty ass "home in three days, don't bathe" scent kinks, where musk is a routinely used word, there is bafflingly little scent kink to be found! I have found zero omegaverse fics that make people smell like people! Where are my fellow gross beings hiding???
#omegaverse#abo dynamics#scent kink#if you know fics that are nasty about this please give them to me#I don't wanna gotta write it ALL myself#i WILL write it myself too tho do not get me wrong
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