#Engagement Ring Settings Without Stones

[allegriana]

Every time I see those godawful rings in The Rings of Power I am filled with indignation. You're telling me that the greatest living Elven smith set these chunky bizarrely cut stones into these incredibly basic bands?? Was this the wretched work of Sauron to make Celebrimbor forget everything he ever knew about lapidary???

These rings are completely out of step with the rest of the elven art nouveau aesthetic. Elrond was 100% correct; they should have been cast into the abyss before they infected Middle Earth with the desire for subpar costume jewelry.

The whole point of cutting gemstones is to make them catch the light and sparkle in a way that shows off the unique properties of the stone. Celebrimbor's grandaddy understood this perfectly when he crafted the Silmarils, which captured the light of the Two Trees of Valinor. (Then he apparently died without passing this knowledge on to his descendants and Celebrimbor was forever dragged for his questionable design choices, I guess)

Here are some examples of rings made by people who had a budget of more than $50 and more than a weekend to knock out their Jewelry 101 summer camp project

https://www.langantiques.com/lang-collection-art-nouveau-style-1-81-carat-diamond-ring-gia-j-si2.html

https://pebbleandpolish.com/products/victorian-art-nouveau-buff-cut-garnet-and-diamond-ring-in-yellow-and-white-gold

I'd be willing to entertain arguments about using larger/weirdly faceted stones, but you still have to design the ring to take this shape and style into mind

https://byangeline.com/products/partially-faceted-natural-sapphire-gemstone-raw-rough-diamond-18k-yellow-gold-engagement-multi-stone-1280

Galadriel, gazing in fascination at the first Ring Pop ever crafted by the elves. Look at how delicate the rest of her jewelry and costume are in contrast to the Temu engagement ring. The elves eventually have to take these rings off not because Sauron forged the One Ring but because theirs were turning their fingers green.

There are so many set and costume designs in this show that I love; clearly a lot of talented people worked on this show! I just wish that as much elegant craftsmanship had informed the TITULAR rings.

(I'm sure some there have been some defensive justifications for Why the Rings Look Like That but I tell you I will not be swayed by any of them)

[mawidixon]

"I will be your light in this cruel world"

Daryl x fem!reader

one-shot

Genre: fluff

Setting: Season 5 - Alexandria

Warnings: Twd violance (killing walkers and other stuff), swearing

Summary: Daryl never thought about marriage until he stumbled upon a beautiful ring in an abandoned jewelry store. From that moment, he put all his effort into making the engagement special.

A/N: I love that one-shot! I wanted to write Ink and Ashes first, but I just needed to write this!

@mawi22 I don't want my work to be modified, copied, or any of this kind of stuff without my consent!!!

It was one of those days when nothing seemed to happen and all the time was wasted. Daryl was on the run, alone because you were assisting Carol in cooking a meal for the rest of the people. To make matters worse, you had accidentally cut your leg while in the woods and you could not run in case of anything. Daryl, the hunter that he is, was now walking on a street that looked as if it had been abandoned. Attached to his belt were several rabbits that he had killed during the day.

The street was deserted; the closed shops bore testimony to what they used to be some time back. Cracked wooden panels and peeled paint spoke of a different reality that no longer existed. Daryl’s eyes shifted from one store to the other, the archer was ever vigilant. He was not only hunting for food but he was looking for anything that could be of use back in Alexandria.

He walked around each shop with purpose, looking for groceries, food tins, medicine, utensils, clothes, and other items. The rabbits followed the movements of the man, a small sign that he was successful in hunting. With every twist of the handle of a door and every crunch of his boots on the floor littered with debris, his senses were heightened. Daryl was determined; Alexandria required much more than food, and he aimed to make the people there as ready as they could be.

Soon, Daryl approached a destroyed jewelry store, its windows shattered and the door barely hanging on its hinges. With a cautious glance around, he pushed the door open, the jingle of a broken bell echoing eerily in the silence. Inside, the store was a chaotic mess, but remarkably, the displays of rings, necklaces, and other jewelry remained largely untouched. As he stepped further in, Daryl's eyes scanned the glittering pieces. Gold, silver, and other precious metals lay scattered about, some adorned with diamonds, others with various gemstones. The price tags, still attached, revealed their former value—these items had been incredibly expensive. In the old world, Daryl wouldn't have given them a second look, their opulence far removed from his everyday concerns. But now, in this new world where rules no longer applied, he could take whatever he wanted without consequence. Yet, the question lingered: what was the point?

Daryl continued his search, moving from display to display, his mind occupied with thoughts of Alexandria and the group. He checked behind counters, opened drawers, and scanned the room for anything useful. He was about to leave, dismissing the jewelry as unnecessary, when something caught his eye.

In a dusty display case near the back, a beautiful gold ring with a shiny sapphire gleamed faintly. The deep blue stone seemed to capture the dim light perfectly, drawing him closer. Daryl's thoughts immediately turned to you. He remembered the welcome party in Alexandria, how stunning you looked in that blue dress, the way it brought out the color in your eyes. The sapphire reminded him of that exact shade. He stood there for a moment, the ring in his hand, feeling an unexpected wave of sentimentality. In the chaos of their current lives, moments of normalcy and beauty were rare. This ring, this small token, could bring a bit of that back. He imagined your face lighting up when he gave it to you, a symbol of something good amidst the turmoil.

With a newfound resolve, Daryl slipped the ring into his pocket and left the store. The day, which had started as long and monotonous, had suddenly gained a new purpose. He continued his search of the abandoned street, but now with a hint of a smile, knowing he had found something special for you.

"I dun' know when to give 'er this ring," Daryl said, his rough voice barely a murmur as he twirled the sapphire ring between his fingers. The deep blue gem caught the light, casting small reflections on the walls of the dimly lit room.

Rick, leaning against the doorframe, glanced at the ring and then back at Daryl. "You've been together for a long time," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Maybe it's time to propose to her." Daryl shook his head, a mix of uncertainty and self-doubt clouding his usually stoic expression. "Nah, she gonna say no," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the ring. Rick stepped closer, his brows furrowing in concern. "Why do you think like that?" he asked. "She loves you, man. And you love her. What's the problem?"

Daryl let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It's jus'... things ain't never been normal for me, Rick. I ain't used to all this," he gestured vaguely with the ring, indicating the weight of emotions and commitments it represented. "What if I ain't good enough for 'er?" Rick's expression softened. He placed a reassuring hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Listen, we've all been through hell and back. None of us are the same as we were before all this. But what you have with her, that's real."

Daryl glanced up, meeting Rick's eyes. There was a flicker of hope in his otherwise guarded expression. "Ya really think she'd say yes?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Rick nodded firmly. "I do. She's stuck by you through everything, Daryl. That means something. She sees the good in you, even when you don't see it in yourself."

...

After that talk with Rick, Daryl began seriously thinking about how to propose. He knew it had to be perfect, something truly special. Unsure of how to go about it, he sought advice from Carol and a few others. Carol, always insightful and supportive, offered him some ideas and shared stories of heartfelt proposals she had witnessed.

With their guidance, Daryl finally crafted a plan. He remembered how much you loved daisy flowers, and he knew of a meadow not too far from Alexandria where plenty of daisies grew. It was a place you often spoke about with fondness, a reminder of simpler, happier times. He also knew the perfect spot to propose—a secluded lake nestled in the middle of the forest. This location held a special place in his heart, reminding him of your gentle touch and the soft kisses you often placed on his forehead. The tranquility and beauty of the lake made it the ideal setting for such an important moment.

Determined, Daryl set his plan into motion. He decided to tell you he had arranged a special date, something to brighten your spirits and provide a brief escape from the harsh realities of their world. On the day of the proposal, he rose early and made his way to the meadow. There, amidst the tall grass and wildflowers, he carefully picked a bouquet of the freshest, most beautiful daisies, picturing the delight on your face when you saw them.

"Y/N! You really dun' have to do make-up. Remember we're goin' to the forest," Daryl called out from behind the door, his voice carrying a mix of impatience and affectionate concern.

Inside the room, you were transforming yourself into a vision of beauty. With careful precision, you applied your makeup, enhancing your features with subtle touches. Your eyes sparkled with a hint of eyeliner, your lips a soft shade of pink. As you finished, you turned to the beautiful long white dress that Jessie had given you. The fabric was soft and flowed gracefully around you, hugging your figure perfectly and making you feel elegant and radiant.

You slipped into the dress, smoothing it down and twirling slightly to see how it moved. The dress was more than just clothing; it was a piece of the old world, a reminder of times when dressing up was a regular part of life. In this dress, you felt a connection to those memories, a sense of normalcy that was rare in these harsh times. True, you were heading into the forest where walkers could be lurking, but you felt confident. Your experiences had honed your survival skills, and you knew you could fight and run if necessary, even in a long dress. The dress might be unconventional for such an outing, but it made you feel special, and you wanted to hold onto that feeling.

You took a final look in the mirror, admiring the transformation. The long white dress accentuated your grace and poise, and the makeup highlighted your natural beauty. With a deep breath, you turned towards the door and opened it. Daryl stood there, his rugged features softening as he took in your appearance. His eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and admiration flickering across his face. He scratched the back of his head, looking a bit flustered.

"You look...amazing," he said, his voice sincere and a bit husky. "But you sure 'bout that dress? We might have to run."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. "I'm sure, Daryl."

Daryl chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, jus' stay close to me."

You nodded, and together you stepped outside. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over Alexandria, and the path to the forest beckoned. As you walked beside Daryl, the dress swaying with your movements, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. Whatever the day held, you were ready to face it, with Daryl by your side and a touch of elegance to remind you of the beauty still left in the world.

You had been walking for about ten minutes when you finally reached the place by the lake. The forest seemed to part just for you, revealing the serene expanse of water nestled among the trees. The wind gently swayed the leaves, creating a soothing rustling sound, and the lake's surface was calm, reflecting the late afternoon sky like a mirror. You and Daryl found a spot by the water's edge, where the grass was soft and inviting. As you sat down, you couldn't help but wonder if Daryl had scouted and cleaned up this area beforehand. There were no walkers in sight, save for maybe two or three in the far distance, making you feel surprisingly safe and at ease.

Settling onto the grass, you let out a contented sigh. The tranquility of the place was mesmerizing, and you felt a rare sense of peace wash over you. Daryl sat beside you, his presence warm and comforting. As you talked and laughed together, he reached out and rested his hand on your thigh, a simple gesture that always made you blush. His touch was gentle yet possessive, a silent reassurance of his affection. You glanced at him, catching the way he was looking at you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness that made your heart flutter. The intensity of his gaze left no doubt in your mind-Daryl adored you. Each look, each touch, spoke volumes of his love and devotion.

The conversation flowed easily between you, interspersed with moments of comfortable silence. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the lake and the surrounding trees. You leaned back on your hands, your dress spreading out around you like a halo, and took in the beauty of the scene. The soft hum of nature, the warmth of Daryl's hand on your thigh, and the serene ambiance of the lake combined to create a perfect moment. Daryl shifted slightly, and you turned to look at him again. He seemed a bit nervous, his usual calm demeanor tinged with something else. He took a deep breath, and you felt a sense of anticipation build.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and earnest. "There's somethin' I wanna ask" Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him reach into his pocket. The world seemed to slow down as he pulled out a small box and opened it to reveal a beautiful gold ring with a sparkling sapphire.

"Will ya marry me?" he asked, his voice filled with hope and love.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at the ring and then back at Daryl. This moment, in this beautiful place, was everything you had ever dreamed of. With a joyous smile and a heart full of love, you answered him.

"Yes!" you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and you both leaned in for a kiss, sealing the promise of a future together. The lake and the forest stood as silent witnesses to your love.

As you admired your new ring, you noticed Daryl seemed a bit uneasy. "You okay?" you asked, your voice filled with concern.

"Yeah...jus' I forgot 'bout..." he muttered, sighing heavily. You gave him a look that immediately coaxed the rest of his words out. "I wanted to give ya daisy flowers but I fuckin' forgot. 'M sorry," he admitted, his eyes dropping with a hint of regret.

Your face softened, and you laid a gentle kiss on his cheek. "You can give me them at home. There's nothing to be sorry for."

Just then, you both heard a cracking sound. Daryl immediately stood up, crossbow in hand, ready for action. Emerging from the trees were six walkers, their movements slow but menacing. Without hesitation, Daryl shot four of them with swift precision. You sprang to your feet, adrenaline coursing through you, and with swift, practiced movements, you took down the remaining two, leaving your dress and pretty face splattered with blood. Despite the gore, you smiled triumphantly. Daryl looked at your blood-stained dress and shook his head. "I could've shot them all, darlin'. No blood on your dress was needed."

You glanced at the lake and chuckled. "Maybe a quick bath?" you suggested, a mischievous glint in your eye. Looking at your future husband, you smirked and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him towards the water. "Come on!" With a playful laugh, you both stumbled into the lake, the cool water washing away the blood and grime. The sudden chill took your breath away, but the laughter and the joy of the moment kept you warm. You felt the weight of the world lift as you splashed around with Daryl, the man you loved.

The atmosphere was perfect, filled with laughter and light. You looked at Daryl, his hair wet and his eyes twinkling with happiness, and felt a surge of love and gratitude. This man, who had been through so much, was your friend, your partner, and soon, your husband.

As you floated together in the lake, the setting sun casting a golden hue over the water, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace. The feeling that you would soon be married to the man you loved filled you with joy. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

You are his light and hope for a better tomorrow.

[krisdreaming]

Wakatoshi loves his wedding ring.

It's just a simple gold band, unobtrusive on his finger for the most part, but every once in a while it catches the light and reminds him that it's there. He can't help the warmth that fills his middle every time.

His volleyball career keeps him on the road and away from you more than he'd like, so having the ring on his finger as a constant reminder of you makes you feel a little bit closer, even when you're miles apart. When he's missing you, he catches himself turning it slowly with his thumb and remembering the brush of your fingers when you slipped it on for the first time. If he closes his eyes, the memory makes him feel like you're in the same room, if only for a few moments.

Your relationship had always been very private, so the first time a reporter noticed it in an interview, it set off a bit of a flurry of attention. His teammates find it hilarious, but he mostly finds the questions it generates irritating. Maybe it's selfish, but so much of his life is already on display for the public eye, and he just wants to keep you for himself.

He'd never leave it off, though. Aside from practice and matches, when he has no choice but to take it off, it never leaves his finger. There's a familiar comfort in the slight weight of it, a constant no matter what is happening around him. A tangible reminder of your unchanging love for him that keeps him steady.

He loves it most when his hands are in yours. When he's holding you close, you often like to play with his hands, your fingertips gently tracing the callouses or marveling with a soft laugh at how large they are in comparison with your own. Without fail, you always end up toying with the ring, twisting it on his finger and gently rubbing your thumb across the smooth metal. You end by lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to the ring ‒ a small, wordless gesture that, to him, still says so much.

It's a gesture that he always returns. He runs his thumb gently across the back of your fingers, quietly admiring your rings ‒ the engagement ring and the matching wedding band. He had agonized over the style of the ring and, even so, it looked more beautiful than he could have imagined once it was on your hand. He presses a tender kiss to the stone, his eyes flickering to your face and your adoring smile.

Wakatoshi loves his wedding ring, but not half as much as he loves you.

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 1 2 3

Part 3

Title: No Good Deeds. Part 3.

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

This one got a little sad I’m sorry, I’m in my Freddie feels right now 🥀

Arriving at the shop, you noticed that Ron was still not here yet as the shop was in complete blackout except for the window lights which remained on at all times. You pulled out your wand and recited the unlocking spell that Fred had created and personalised, as well as the counter spell for the anti-alohamora charm he'd placed upon the building. You locked the door behind you with a flick of your wand and illuminated the store, making your way straight up to the office. The store looked good and tidy, though you did notice during your ascent up the stairs that there were a few stock items that needed replenishing, something you could do once you'd set up everything in the back.

Around half an hour later, Ron burst through the office door, calling for George and immediately froze upon seeing you sat there at his brother's desk.

"Oh, thought it was George this morning," he says, running his hand over the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed at barging in.

"He had some stuff to sort this morning, said I'd cover for him," you explained with a little shrug, grabbing the floats from the safe and the morning banking book.

"Oh right, yeah okay," Ron says, following behind you as you walk down the stairs. "Think he's got a secret girlfriend?"

Ron's words make you momentarily freeze, having not expected him to say that.

"Don't know Ronald," you said with another shrug and a smile, "but if Percy can get a girlfriend then George definitely can." Ron laughs with a nod and helped you set up the shop as you work together, laughing and joking like usual. He tries to pry into George's love life a little more, assuming that you know more than he does but you successfully manage to deflect his questions, hopefully without any suspicion.

You winced as the stones of your engagement ring caught the palm of your hand for the third time since you'd been restocking the shelves and looked down to see a little imprint of the outline cut into your hand. You sighed, checking around you to see where Ron was before walking up towards the office and turning left instead, towards the flat. Approaching the wooden door, you took a deep breath in and tried to gather your courage, suddenly feeling emotional and overwhelmed at returning to the flat you'd once known so well, dreading stepping through the door.

You huffed out a breathe and opened the handle, immediately greeted by the dark corridor that wrapped around the flat. You walked past the closet and then past what used to be Fred's bedroom, pausing only briefly to touch the doorframe as you felt your lip wobble, tears threatening your eyes. You shook them away and carried on walking towards George's room, looking for something specific that you knew he had, hoping he wouldn't mind you borrowing it.

You felt uncomfortable intruding like this, but it was the only solution you could think of. You stepped through the door and found the room to be much neater than you imagined, with only a few pieces of clothing and ties strewn on the floor in the otherwise rather tidy bedroom. You walked over to his dresser, seeing his leather watch box on top and raised the lid. Immediately you were met with a photo of you, George and Fred in your fifth year, building a snowman in the courtyard at Hogwarts. You all looked so young and happy, dressed in layer upon layer of warm clothes topped with coats and hats as you beamed at the camera, Fred's arm wrapped around you and George holding onto your shoulder, each one of you proud of the enchanted snowman you'd created. A tear leaked out of your eye and you bit your lip to try and prevent anymore from falling as you quickly wiped it away, unable to take your eyes of Fred's infectious smile. You placed the photo down onto the lid and reached to grab a silver chain that was beside the watch that his parents had given him for his 17th birthday, the same watch that sat beside an identical one in the box. You'd bought both of them a chain for their 17th birthday with a little engraved pendant attached that you had customised. The engraving was a 'w' sign with a little star at the top, the very same sign that would become the logo for the shop. Fred was buried in his chain, having never taken it off, but you noticed that George hadn't worn his much in the past few years, which you understood. You took out the chain and slipped the engagement ring through it before securing it around your neck and tucking it underneath your shirt. The last thing you wanted was to lose the ring and this was the only way you could keep it safe whilst you were at work, knowing you'd be panicking if it was in your pocket all day and you vowed to keep it at home tomorrow. You closed the lid of the watch box, casting one last glance at the photo before walking out of the flat and back down to the shop. Ron was none the wiser and you carried on restocking the love potions, no longer hurting from the ring, as Ron grabbed the skiving snackboxes in preparation for you opening the store.

You briefly thought of George as you wiped down the counter, wondering if the furniture had been delivered yet and what he was doing at home before a knock at the front door dragged you out of your musings. Verity had arrived for her shift and you let her in with a wave of your wand, greeting her before disappearing into the office for one last check over the inventory books before the shop opened.

"Morning stranger," you heard a voice say a little later as you deposited some cash into the safe. You turned around and saw George leaning on the door frame, arms crossed with a smirk on his lips, looking well rested and quite frankly, very handsome in his suit and burgundy shirt.

"Morning Georgie," you smiled, locking the safe and turning to face him completely.

"You ran off this morning," he teases, stepping forward to sit next to you on the desk, his long legs leaning beside you.

"I left a note," you countered in a mock-argument, giving him a wicked smile. He chuckles and nods, his eyes flicking over you.

"Did everything come okay? Didn't expect you in yet."

"All set up," he says with a nod before frowning gently, his mouth opening and closing twice before he says the next part, "look about last night, I'm sorry if-"

"Georgie," you said, moving to stand and place your hand on his chest to stop him. "I offered."

"Yeah not for me to sleep with-

"It's fine, actually it was nice to sleep beside someone again," you said honestly, the image of Fred's smiling face from the photograph filling your mind as you thought of the only person you'd ever shared a bed with. "Except for the snoring, that I could do without," you joked. He immediately grabbed you and pulled you into him as you let out a little squeal at the sensation of his beginning to tickle you.

"Snoring!?" He repeats with a shout, trying to look outraged but the grin on his face told you that he was far from angry. "How rude Mrs Weasley," he jokes, stopping the tickling but still keeping his hands on your waist. His eyes flick down to your left hand and his brows knit together momentarily as you follow his train of thought.

"Couldn't let Ron see it yet," you said as you both looked at your left ring finger, "I have to confess something though."

"Don't say you've lost it already," George says with a small, goading smirk which transforms into a laugh as you hit him on the chest for the little dig.

"No I haven't lost it," you say with a huff before reaching down into your shirt and pulling out the chain that sits around your neck, the ring hanging off of it like a pendant, knowing he'd recognise it instantly, "had to borrow this from you, is that okay? Please don't be mad, I tried to put the ring on my other hand but it kept digging in and it cut me and."

George immediately stops your babbling by pressing his lips to yours, a move that shocks you to your core as you stand there frozen, feeling his soft lips on yours. The kiss lasts no more than a few seconds but you can't help but stay perfectly still, more than surprised by his actions, your eyes slowly fluttering open after instinctively closing as he leaned in. George pulls away and looks at you with equal amounts of surprise, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done too. His shocked expression drops from his face after a few moments as he draws in a breath before explaining, never taking his eyes off his chain around your neck.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think of any other way to stop you rambling," he says with a small tilt of teasing in his voice before his gaze flicks up to look directly into your eyes, a soft look on his features. "I don't mind, looks good on you."

He strokes your arm as he pulls away and without any other words, he walks through the office door and down the stairs, leaving you utterly bamboozled as you stare at the spot where George had just been. George just kissed you. George Weasley had just kissed you.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, with paperwork and inventory checks needing your attention and taking up most of your time. You'd run into George a few times over the course of the day and each and every time you had felt his eyes on you before you even knew he was there. The look in his eyes was unfamiliar to you, like he was deep in thought or concentration but it only seemed to be when he caught sight of you which was strange. At one point he had winked at you as you walked through the store after grabbing some lunch for the both of you and it made you feel giddy and restless as there had seemed to be a shift in your dynamic since the kiss.

After your last inventory check was done and recorded in the files, you stepped out onto the shopfloor at 10 minutes before close to ask George about what he wanted for dinner tonight but you stopped short when you saw him laughing with an unfamiliar woman next to the till. They were stood pretty close together and she was laughing at something George was saying as he chuckled along, looking fairly animated in his reply. Your eyes rolled when you saw her laugh and reach out to touch his arm, a move you'd seen over and over again in all those tragic muggle romantic comedies that Hermione had made you endure over the years. You couldn't deny that your stomach sank at seeing the scene before you, George and the pretty woman flirting openly in the near empty shop, especially after he kissed you earlier in the day. You considered just backing away and pretending that you'd not seen what you had but that plan was immediately rendered impossible when you heard your name called out by a very familiar voice. George.

He waved his hand at you, gesturing for you to join them and you willed your feet to move across the floor, trying to force a smile onto your face though inside you were a maelstrom of hurt and rage.

"This is her, y/n," George says, introducing you as you approach them, placing his hand onto your waist as you stand next to him. "She came up with these, bloody brilliant actually," George says, holding out the familiar packaging of the weather in a bottle product you'd created together in your sixth year. "Excellent diversion tactic or just a harmless prank if preferred, a rain cloud will actually follow the receiver around and it creates no mess, except for the unsuspecting victim, they'll be wet through."

Usually, George's praise would have made you blush, especially as his hand held your waist so openly, but in the current circumstance you just felt enraged. The woman he was chatting with had pulled away from him and clearly had a face like thunder at your interruption, though she tried to mask it around George.

"It seems your employees are very talented," she says with a tight lipped smile that certainly didn't reach her eyes. You didn't miss the inflection on the word 'employees' and it pained you not to roll your eyes at her purposeful goading. You shot her a sarcastic smile in return before looking around for Ron but you couldn't see him.

"Employee?" George says questioningly before looking down at you, pulling you in slightly, "my fiancée." You froze, feeling suddenly on the spot at you tried to search for any sign of Ron or Verity in hearing distance but there was no one else around.

The woman seemed to baulk at the new information and all pretence of a smile dropped from her face. She suddenly made up some excuse about having to collect something from Flourish and Botts and quickly hustled out of the store, leaving you and George alone.

You snorted as you watched her exit, "should rename the shop 'Weasleys' Wizard Whizzes, with how fast she just ran out."

George barked out a laugh before checking his watch and flourishing his wand, effectively closing and locking the door. He nudges you with his hip as he squeezes past to get to the tills, opening up the first one that Verity had manned for most of her shift.

"So fiancé Eh?" You said quietly, moving around to the second till to begin cashing it up just as George had with the first one. George gives you a little look as he counts the sickles before jotting down the total on the little piece of parchment beside the till.

"Only one more day before we tell mum, might as well start the rumours," George says with a knowing smirk. The mention of telling Molly made your stomach lurch and it was all you could think of as you counted each galleon, knut and sickle in the till.

"You ready my beloved?" George asks jokingly, reaching for your hand as he puts the last of the cash in the safe.

"What about the accounts?" You ask, looking through the inventory receipts laid out on your desk.

"They can wait till morning, I'm starving, let's go home," George says, taking your hand and begins leading you down the stairs. His use of 'home' gave you a warm, fluttery feeling that made a goofy smile want to cross across your lips, knowing that he meant both of you.

You walked out of the shop and George turned out the lights and locked up with his wand before placing it into his suit jacket pocket, never once letting go of your hand as you walked around to the back of the store and apparated back to your flat.

As soon as you made it back, you walked into your bedroom and threw off your bra just as you did everyday, followed by your socks and jeans, changing into your loungewear straight away. You threw on a big cardigan and walked back out to see George in the kitchen, looking through the fridge.

"Made you a cup of tea Angel," he says with an absent nod of his head as he peruses the ingredients.

"Thank you!" You gush, elated at the prospect of having a warm cup of tea, "I knew there was a reason I'm marrying you," you joked.

George huffed mockingly, closing the fridge as he turns to face you. He'd taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves and you couldn't deny how good he looked right at that moment.

"Not my movie star good looks? Towering height? Flaming red hair?" He jokes, stepping closer to you.

"Hmmm," you pretend to think, dramatically tapping your chin, "no it's definitely the tea."

"Remind me why I'm marrying you again?" He teases, reaching behind you to grab his drink.

"I'd say my impeccable sense of humour and sharp whit but we both know it's for a savvy business move," you replied with a sarcastic grin that falls from your face as you watch George's face sink. He recovers quickly but you definitely saw the stricken expression on his face and you immediately regret your words, though you were of course only stating facts.

You start tea as George nips in the shower and as the rice begins to boil and the chicken comes out of the oven, the kitchen heats up exponentially and you have to take off your cardigan due to the heat, casting it to the wind to land somewhere on the sofa behind you. Just as you reached for the jar of sauce from the cupboard, you saw the bottles of daisyroot draught you'd bought for George a few days ago and pulled it out for him before adding the sauce to the chicken.

"Georgie, I got you some daisyroot, if you want it," you said, turning to face him as you stir the bubbling pan. He's wearing his pyjama bottoms and a black T-shirt as he rubs his hair with the towel, walking barefoot into the kitchen. He opens his mouth to reply but he seems to briefly pause, focusing intently on something around you before snapping out of it a few moments later, looking bashful.

"Great, yeah great, thank you," he stammered, stuttering through his words as he avoided eye contact with you and walked past you to grab a glass from the top shelf. You frowned at his peculiar behaviour but decided not to question in, realising that it might be an adjustment thing from him moving in with you, after all the only person he'd ever lived with as an adult was Fred. Perhaps you shouldn't have bought him the daisyroot, thinking that somehow you might have overstepped.

"Tea's nearly ready," you say, perhaps a little delicately in hopes that you wouldn't upset him but his reaction is normal so you try to put it out of your mind, putting it down to a bad turn.

"This is amazing Angel," George says, taking huge forkfuls of the chicken curry and rice you'd haphazardly thrown together. You smile appreciatively at him and scoop up some of your own food, admittedly taking much smaller bites than George. "So, you ready to tell Mum tomorrow?"

Your eyes shoot up to his with a glare, seeing him smirking at you and you roll your eyes, feeling a lump in your throat and nerves at the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah can't wait," you mutter sarcastically, already anticipating what could happen in your mind, picturing her utter elation, or her outrage.

"You know she'll be happy right?" George says, scooping up another forkful of rice.

"You think we can actually convince them?" You ask, changing the direction of the conversation slightly, not realising how much that question had been playing on your mind. George is quiet for a minute as he considers his answer, taking a sip of the daisyroot before picking up his fork again.

"Don't see why not," he says with a little shrug before turning to look at you with a little smile, "not exactly unheard of is it? Falling for your best friend."

George's words make your stomach flip and roil in numerous ways, the smile on his face only furthering those complicated feelings within you.

"Guess not," you reply, trying to act neutral as you absently eat your food, though you couldn't deny that your appetite had waned dramatically from the topic of conversation. "So, do I wear the ring tomorrow or do I put it on after work?"

"Whatever you want Angel," George says, reaching for his glass again, "Ron's off tomorrow and I doubt Verity would notice anything even directly under her nose, it's just you and me." When you don't reply, silently considering your options, George leans over and grabs your hand on the table, stroking where your engagement ring should be. "Keep in on my chain tomorrow, around your neck and then put it on before we get back to mum's," he suggests, a softness to his voice that made it seem like a hopeful request. You nod and smile at him, still feeling a little conflicted as you tuck into the rest of your meal.

When you climb into bed later that night, your thoughts are consumed by your situation, of your impending engagement and your future after that. Truthfully, you hadn't taken much time to process everything since that first initial day, getting caught up in George moving in and all the things that came along with that. You were already anxious at returning to the Burrow tomorrow, having only been back a handful of times since the war, once for Harry and Ginny's engagement party and a few other dinners that never quite felt the same as before, like something obvious was missing, as it always was these days. Your thoughts were plagued with what ifs and nervous thoughts of what lies after but mostly all you could think of was Fred.

You had to remind yourself that you were doing this for George and for Fred's memory, to keep the business exactly as it had been created, to honour Fred. They were your oldest friends, your best friends and you'd give anything for them to succeed and to be happy and if that meant sacrificing your own life and happiness temporarily, then you'd do it in a heartbeat, regardless of the emotional strain.

You felt shame at lying to the people that had become your second family, that had housed you and welcomed you into their home like one of their own. You felt sad that you were holding back George from finding someone and even more conflicted that the idea of George finding someone else caused you to hurt in ways you couldn't explain. And most of all, you felt immeasurable guilt at your arrangement with George, namely because it felt like you were disrespecting Fred. Moving on, even though you were never officially together, seemed to imply that you had chosen George over him, that you could be so selfish and heartless that you'd marry his twin brother after his death, casting all of your memories away and rendering them insignificant. In your heart, you knew Fred wouldn't see it that way and he'd be proud of you for doing what you were doing for his and George's sake, though your mind wouldn't listen to a word of that, instead choosing to attack you.

As soon as the idea crossed your mind, you pulled back your covers and hauled yourself out of bed to crouch on the floor, reaching for a large shoebox that was stored under your bed, filled with your most treasured items. The top of the box had scribbles all over it in both in pencil and quill ink, with writings and drawings of Weasley products all over in a mixture of yours and the twins' handwriting. You sat and chuckled at the difference between everyone's writing; yours was the neatest and most consistent with cursive tails and joined letters. George's writing was small and a little 'curly', though it was quite neat for a boy's writing. Fred's writing however, fluctuated between indecipherable scribblings and various levels of darkness as if he's taken too much ink on the quill. You ran your fingers over the markings, smiling to yourself, before opening the lid to the shoebox. You didn't do this often, only when you needed to feel him, to be surrounded by memories, like right now.

You pulled out a stack of photos front the top, some magical and some not, seeing you, George and Fred at various ages and places during your Hogwarts years. You looked through them with fondness before coming across a photo of you and Fred at the Yule Ball in your sixth year, both of you dressed in your fanciest clothes. Fred's rust coloured waistcoat matches his vibrant, long hair perfectly and you looked at the photo carefully, thinking of how handsome he looked. Memories of dancing and laughing through the night entered your mind, both with Fred and George after George had stolen you away for a dance when Fred had stepped out to get drinks. Fred had walked straight up to the pair of you pretending to be angry and had tried to steal you back, both of them never missing a step of the waltz choreography as you were passed back and forth between the brothers, their matching red hair just a blur as you spun around.

You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and steamed down your cheeks as you looked at the photo of Fred, trying to remember every little detail about him, the scar on his eyebrow and the light freckles on his cheeks, his smell and his laughter. You put down the photos and picked up the button that was underneath the stack, one of the buttons from your dress that night that Fred had unceremoniously ripped off of you, this singular button popping off and rolling underneath his bed, only for you to find it two months later. You placed the button down onto the photos and pulled out a stack of letters that you'd saved, some from Fred and some from George, not feeling strong enough to be able to read them at the moment.

Just as you pulled out a little stuffed toy of a Niffler that Fred had bought you in your third year and cuddled it into your chest, there was a gentle knock at the door. You called out for George to come in, trying to stash the things away before he could see them and get upset as well as quickly wiping away your tears before looking up to him.

Whatever he wanted from you disappeared the second he saw your tear strained face, crouched over a box he recognised immediately.

"Angel," he says quietly, which only makes more tears fall. He moves like lightning over to you and immediately wraps his arms around you, sitting beside you and pulling you into his embrace so that you were near enough sat in his lap. He holds you, rocking gently as you cry, no longer seeing any reason to hold back your emotions.

"Your T-shirt's all wet," you say in a weak, apologetic voice with a sniffle a few minutes later, pulling away from him slightly. "I'm so sorry, it's not fair of me to do this with you," you say, noticing that his own tears are working their way down his face.

"Not fair? What do you mean?" He says gently, allowing you to pull away but not completely, keeping a comforting hand on you.

"He was your brother, your twin, I-"

"Enough of that," he says with a shake of his head, reaching down to wipe away a tear under your eye, "he meant everything to both of us."

His words make you want to cry all over again but you don't, trying to stay calm as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. His hand strokes your back as you try and calm your breathing, feeling a little embarrassed by your outburst after you'd got it all out of your system.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't considered how hard this must be for you, you and Fred were together for-."

"It doesn't matter," you say, cutting off George, not wanting to explain that you were never really together, "it's not that, not really, I just really needed him."

George gives you a single nod that holds all the weight of understanding, clearly knowing exactly how you felt.

"I remember this," George chuckles, pulling something out of the box delicately. It was a piece of parchment with the ingredients for the ageing potion you'd found in an old potions book that the twins had used to try and enter their names into the triwizard tournament. You'd warned them that it wouldn't work against Dumbledore's age line but they hadn't listened. Attached to the sheet of parchment with an old paper clip was a photo you'd taken of the twins in the infirmary, both of them sporting wild white hair and beards, including bushy eyebrows, their arms around each other with cheesy smiles.

You watched as George reached down to touch an old, faded T-shirt of Fred's that was tucked down into the bottom of the box, an old quidditch T-shirt that had outgrown him by his third year, golden thread stitching up a hole in the collar and another smaller one on the seam of the sleeve. You wore it to bed nearly every night for years, the softness and the smell always so comforting to you.

George's fingers ran across the Gryffindor logo for a moment before catching sight of a keyring he'd bought you from the Quidditch World Cup, the green shamrock dangling from the binder ring, the Ireland logo on the back a little scratched up now but the green, white and orange colours were still as vibrant as ever.

"I bought you this," he said with a smile, placing it into his hand as he inspected it. You nodded eagerly, remembering it clearly. You'd painted the boys faces before leaving the tent with the face paint you'd taken with you and when they'd been to look at the merchandise with the limited money they had, they'd both returned with matching green and white scarves, Fred decked out in an obscenely large hat and George had nervously held out his hand to you, passing you the keyring as he moved you to stand between the twins.

"Knew you would want a momento from the trip but I didn't think you'd appreciate one of those hats like Fred and Ginny had," he says, a fondness in his eyes as he looks at the metal keyring.

"I used it everyday for five years," you said, giving him a little smile. "I caught it on the door one day and I thought I broke it, had to reattach the shamrock and then I switched it out, it means too much to me to get broken or lost."

George looks up at you with emotion filled eyes, a look shared between you both that held so much depth that it stole your breath for a few moments.

"Feels like another lifetime," George says after a few minutes of silence. You made a noise of agreement, flicking your eyes down to look at the box filled with distant memories that were now bittersweet and a little twisted.

"You're wrong, you know."

George looks up at you with a puzzled frown, confused by your words. You breathe out a puff of laughter and smile at him, reaching for the hand that wasn't holding the keyring.

"Fred isn't the only one who means everything to me."

Your words seem to affect George in a way that you hadn't anticipated as a tear comes to his eye, his hand tightening around yours before he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. You hug him back without question, feeling his soft (and now dry) T-shirt against your skin, his arms around you and the comforting smell of his hair and skin taking over your senses.

He pulls away ever so slightly and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you again, his face so close to yours but he doesn't, slowly releasing you from his hold until you climbed off of him, a little disappointed.

"Right, enough mushy shit, we need a plan, for telling your family," you say, standing up and pulling your pyjamas back into place.

"That was what I came to tell you," George says, moving to stand as well as you bent down to slide the box back under your bed. You turned around and looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate. "Mum sent an owl, said something about a gnome infestation, apparently they're vicious this time of year, dad's been bitten twice just walking to the car."

"Oh."

"I was thinking we could meet them at the leaky cauldron or get a meal out? We'll need to tell them soon," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Invite them over! I can cook, might need to leave work early to prep everything though," you reply, trying to save the plans you'd made.

"Really? You don't have to but,"

"They need to believe we're really together, what better way then to show them that we're living together," you say before reaching a bump in the road, "your stuff will probably need to move in here though, can't have it look like we're sleeping separately, we're not exactly priests."

George nods, following along with your train of thought. "I could bring more of my stuff over? Litter it about, just for a couple of days?"

You shrug in reply, "I don't mind."

"I'll write to mum now and offer them to come here, take the day off tomorrow, then you won't be rushing around, like I know you will," he says with a knowing smirk that you roll your eyes at.

"But you'll be on your own."

"I'll send Ron an owl."

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[lethalchiralium]

Caring | John Price x F!Reader

a/n: literally just john taking care of you. man is a worshipper, you can’t tell me shit

warnings: none, just caring and loving captain john price :D

summary: After a night out, John always follows through on his rituals.

Pushing aside your hair, John’s calloused fingertips brushed against the back of your neck as he undid your necklace. The heavy necklace full of beautiful stones now settled in his hand, he carefully placed it upon your dresser. He moved around to your front, his hands finding your ears and carefully taking out the matching earrings - the earrings and necklace a set he had just bought you. Forest green sapphires with glittering moissanites, a set he thought would look beautiful on you - and he was right. He was always right, because everything he bought for you looked divine on your skin.

He settled the earrings on the dresser as well, kneeling in front of you. His hand swooped behind one of your calves, grazing the skin to pull your foot towards him. His focus was on the clasp of your heels, gently pulling them off and setting them down next to the dresser with care.

These were the things John Price always did. for you, no matter the amount of protesting you did. He’d shrug off the, “You’re tired, honey, I can do it myself” and still kneel in front of you, taking off your jewelry and shoes after a night out. He’d help you shower if you wanted, and helped you into your pajamas before letting himself lay halfway on top of you, face in your neck and leg hooked over your legs.

Both shoes were set beside your dresser, he reached out for your hands - you set them in his grasp, allowing him to undo the clasps of your bracelets, sliding them off and onto the dresser before his hands found your stacks of rings, gently sliding them off your fingers. The only one that stayed on your hand was the glittering diamond engagement ring, he made sure it still fit without hurting you.

“John,” You whispered, his blue eyes flickered up to your face from your hands, he looked concerned. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”

He chuckled a little, pulling both of your knuckles to his lips, kissing them. “Of course I do. I’m going to marry you and never stop doing this for you.” Another kiss to your hands, he settled them back in your lap. “No matter how much you protest or get tired of it, I love taking care of you.”

You reached forwards for him, he stilled as your hands reached his tie. Loosening it, you began to undo it - slipping it off of his collar yet his hands take it from you. Your eyes flickered to his.

“Let me do it, darling.” He tossed the tie aside without a care, hands moving to your knees to which he kneeled in front of. He sighed, gently settling his cheek on your thigh, eyes gazing up at you.

Your hand settled on his jaw, gently swiping your thumb over his well-groomed beard, a smile on your face.

“I would do anything for you.”

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

———

[rhaenin-time]

No, House Targaryen is not inherently "doomed" by the very same flaws (and themes) that doomed the civilization that they left.

No, they're not fated to succumb to the Doom that they survived specifically because of the foresight that set them apart from everyone else who perished. Not only would it be terrible, simplistic writing, it would also endorse a terrible, simplistic worldview.

People choosing to make House Targaryen a representation of and thematic successor to not just the civilization that they differentiated themselves from, but the power structure that they chose to leave, literally divested from, and actively worked to prevent from rising again in another form... really rubs me the wrong way.

Why isn't this projection and generalization done for any of the families that come from the cultures that are not coded as other? Why is it only the family that's been separated from their cultural context? Why do the other families each get to be unique, complex manifestations not just of different aspects of their cultures, but of their own specific histories?

Why is the foreign degenerate family both a representation of everything wrong with the culture they come from, and a scapegoat for everything wrong with the system they assimilated into? How is it they represent everything bad about what they left behind, and also everything bad about the land they came to? Even though all those flaws are not only shared by the system as a whole, but are flaws that predate their arrival, that they were punished for resisting, and that they are demonstrated to be incompatible with. Why is it always both?

It just rings so familiar to the way so many people view the other in real life. Because the Targaryens are overtly, and intentionally written as the other. It's the reason so many people identify with them, and it's the very same reason that other people vilify them. They're not just the in-universe other to the 'default' culture established in the text, but they're also given characteristics that we, the reader and audience, can recognize as other and even sometimes anathema to Western Christian culture.

Perhaps the old tales were true, and Dragonstone was built with the stones of hell

A Storm of Swords, Chapter 25, Davos III

I want you to ask yourself: Why is the idea of "fire and brimstone" evil?

To paraphrase the annoying people that love to cite Ramsay when they feel like it: If you look at a morally complex family surrounded by other morally complex families in a morally complex world in a story that's famed for seeking to challenge your underlying assumptions, and think that their association with fire and brimstone is meant to signify their singular satanic evilness, rather than say... challenge that very Eurocentric assumption, you haven't been paying attention.

This vilification mindset where the Targaryens are the singular evil of Westeros is so common to people who seem to want to consume ASoIaF without engaging with the criticisms of the Eurocentric worldview of history at the heart of it. And they end up using the convenient “others” to project all the wrongs of that world onto so they don't need to examine it any deeper.

This is the part where I so often get crucified!

This is the take that so often gets me crucified for "trivializing real world bigotry" in an attempt to "moralize interpretations of fiction" by an onslaught of people with troubling ideologies who then ironically steer the onslaught to moralizing their interpretations of fiction in a way that seeks to either mask or justify their troubling ideologies.

The worldbuilding of ASoIaF is an almost unparalleled projection of the Eurocentric worldview. That's what makes the world feel so rich. That's why GRRM and even the readers and audience are able to craft so many details that feel intuitive. But that also means that how you choose to interpret that world is often driven by underlying biases and ideologies that relate to that worldview — especially if you're not willing to challenge them the way George RR Martin does and encourages you to do.

It means that certain potential biases and ideologies people might balk at outwardly expressing in the real world are recontextualized in a way that feels more comfortable to indulge in.

There are countless examples from countless parts of the narrative. Honestly, you could fill books on the matter. But the one I'll point to right now is how the vilification I pointed out earlier is so emblematic of how the Eurocentric worldview often seeks to project their own flaws onto the other or choose scapegoats for systemic issues.

It comes from the same place with how someone pointed out that the baffling bastardphobia that would have medieval peasants giving the side eye is so often people jumping at the chance to “cosplay” as bigots who base their arguments in misogyny and bio-essentialism. Because it's an acceptable channel to indulge in that mindset in a way that they'd often otherwise question, or at least hold back from expressing out of caution.

And there I go again. "Moralizing fandom" for pointing out that fandom is so often used as a 'safe space' to build communities that share and spread troubling ideologies that you're not allowed to criticize because those ideologies have been 'appropriately' decontextualized from their real-world parallels, even though those parallels are still very much there.

But the problem is that it's impossible to simply 'channel' bigotry and leave it in an 'acceptable' space, because bigotry doesn't work like that. It's not a static object you can carry around in your pocket to play with when you think it's safe to do so. It's a blight. A living poison that feeds and grows and spreads. And if you give it a 'safe space' and continue to feed it with 'acceptable' fuel, it will always find its way out.

[auras-moonstone]

mad woman — ethan landry (epilogue)

word count: 791

pairing: ethan landry x gf!fem!reader

author’s note: as i told you, i’m a rom-com girly, so i couldn’t have ended it any other way. thank you for supporting my work💕🫶🏻 i don’t think i’ll do other ethan series, but i’ll for sure do one shots for him!

last part ; series masterlist

EVERYTHING WENT FINE FOR THE KIRSCHES AND THE FREEMAN GIRL. They got away with it—the fact that Bailey was part of the police clearly helped a lot—, Quinn and her dad left NY because she would still have to live in clandestinity and Bailey didn’t want to leave his daughter alone.

Ethan and Y/N, on the other hand, decided to finish they college education. They moved in together and their relationship grew stronger and stronger with each passing day.

They now were about to celebrate their fourth year as a couple, and Ethan had big plans for it. He had consulted it with his sister thousands of times—if she didn’t love them so much, she would’ve blocked him already—but he finally had it all planned.

“Babe that was the longest walk ever, did I have to do it blind-folded?” she asked with a laugh once Ethan told her they had arrived.

“I promise it’s worth it” his breath tickled the back of her neck and, even after four years of being by his side, it still gave her chills and made her heart go wild. His soft fingertips made contact with her hair to take the blindfold off.

She blinked a few times, to get accustomed to the light, and her jaw flew open. They were on the roof, and by the sight of the big campus, she figured they were on the Blackmore University building. But it wasn’t dark and lifeless as usual, Ethan set up a blanket and some cushions on the floor and candles around it.

Y/N smiled and then looked at her boyfriend. The warm light of the fairy lights—that were hung on the wall—reflected on his face and he couldn’t look more beautiful. “Ethan this is… perfect”

“Only the best for you, of course” he flashed his pretty smile that was only reserved for her. “Let’s eat”.

They sat on the green blanket and ate the lasagna Y/N made. Ethan could barely swallow his food from nervousness, and Y/N, who knew him like the back of her hand, obviously took notice of that.

“Eth, what’s wrong?” she asked, putting her hand on top of his.

“I…” he sighted before standing up. Y/N watched him go to one corner and turn on the small speaker he brought. A tune she instantly recognized filled the room. “This song made me think of you… well, of us”.

“Timeless by Taylor Swift made you think of us?” Y/N asked with a smile, tears already filled her eyes. And she didn’t even know what was about to happen. “That’s… that’s so sweet”.

Ethan smiled, sitting back next to her “Yeah… I never felt anything like this before. To be honest, I didn’t even think this feeling existed. But… everything is better since you entered my life—which, by the way, thank you for being noisy” he said, making her laugh. Tears running down both of their faces “I think of my life before I met you and I get this horrible feeling on my chest… I don’t want to imagine a life without you. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side, have kids, adopt pets, buy a house, watch how our hair turns grey…” he made a pause “Get married…”.

Y/N smiled “Your list is on a weird order, Eth” she laughed.

“Shut up” he laughed, his lips meet hers for a millisecond “What I am trying to say is… I love you, and I want us to be together forever. So, Y/N, would you like to marry me?” He showed her an engagement ring with an emerald stone. Y/N laughed, which made Ethan frown “That was not the answer I expected”.

“No! I mean, yes! I want to marry you. I would love to marry you” she said kissing his cheeks, lips, forehead, jaw “I laughed because… well” she took a little box from her bag and showed him the content. “We both had the same plan”.

“Oh my god” Ethan laughed. “Well, aren’t you gonna ask the question, love?”.

“Dear beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking Ethan… would you make me the happiest girl in the world and take my hand in marriage?” she asked in a posh voice.

Ethan rolled his eyes “Do you always have to kill the romantic vibe?”

Y/N arched her brow “Is that a no?”

“It’s a put the fucking ring on me already” he said. And Y/N obeyed, and then Ethan did the same to her. “I can’t wait to get married”

“Me neither. I love you, so so much”

Ethan grabbed her waist to pull her to his lap “But I love you more”

“Not a chance” she laughed, resting her forehead against his.

“Should we celebrate this, fiancé?” he smirked, his eyes filled with need and lust.

“Let’s go home, fiancé”

[edgeray]

🌸 madoka anon back! can i request arle finding clervies reincarnation later? with or without memories and how arle will handle it

To Find You Again

(Arlecchino & Clervie)

A/N - So… it's been a while huh? Guess I'm back for a little bit. Did you guys miss me? I missed you guys (please talk to me T^T it's been so lonely).  I am so sorry for taking so long to make this 🌸 Anon. Anyways, platonic arlevie because reincarnated clervie is a child while arle is an adult.  As you guys may have known, I was working on the follower special, and the reason I haven't posted it yet is because I haven't finished 💀. I know. Writing has been on and off for me the entire month, and I think I burnt out from just writing about one piece so much. That, with the added stress of finishing this before school started, and also me not knowing how to start the smut was just a fuck cluster of me procrasinating from writing because the solution to your problems is obviously running away from it :D. I was simultaneously exhausated and antsy to write. Anyways, with school approaching, instead of putting it off, I decided it'd be better to get the requests out of the way so I can get back into the groove of writing without having to focus on the oneshots.  TLDR; Going back to writing requests because I'm sick of writing the specials. 😭 I'm not abandoning part 2 or part 3, because god forbid I throw 9k words in the trash, but lord do I need a break from that writing style. They will be worked on steadily but they will happen… someday.    Content warnings / info - some angst :(, maybe bittersweet ending, 1.7k words.

There is a reason that Arlecchino favors a certain shade of red. The type of vibrant scarlet that leaves her breathless for the slightest second, and she cannot help but admire. Because in that single brief length of time, she is thrown back to when she was no older than six or seven, when she was just Peruere–underneath a tree, a small box in her hands, the sun beaming down at her, knees in the dirt, her curse creeping up her fingertips–and then warmest set of emerald eyes peering upon her. Memories, some fond but largely agonizing, swarm her thoughts, rising in waves that threaten to swallow her whole. 

Over the years, she's learned to stay afloat above the fickle waters, no matter how many times they resurface in varying sizes. Except today is when the waves tower over her, as it crashes into her body, shaking her to her very core, the very foundation of her memories disturbed. All caused by a single engagement in the middle of the Fontainian streets. 

Arlecchino often enjoys strolls when her work allows respites; they are refreshing to the mind, and the beauty of Fontainian architecture never fades away. Walking along the path, she hears small footfalls approach behind her, and then something collides into her body. The weight and negligible force of impact tells her it's a small person, a child, she confirms when she hears a high-pitched voice. 

An apology tumbles out of the child's lips. “I'm sorry!” 

And Arlecchino stiffens immediately, as her ears suddenly ring with those two words, familiarity bleeding through each utterance, because she knows of this voice. This is the same voice that has haunted her dreams for a decade, only this time, it's not whispered, not sapped of all of her previous vitality. Arlecchino is sixteen again, loose sword in hand, the press of a body against her chest, and surrounded by smoke, ashes, and blood, and all she knows is her last words. 

I'm sorry. 

Arlecchino looks down with a gaping expression, lips parted and eyes widened as she stares down at a mop of hair, the color of that ever damnable shade of red, carmine. Gleaming jade stones gaze back at her, and Arlecchino thinks of the impossible–reconsidering every preconception about death. Everything but her attire matches that out of her memories. Many explanations come to her for this child's appearance, but they mock the Harbinger's own recollection of her past. 

“I'm really sorry, ma'am!” The imposter repeats again, before looking down at her shoes, to hide away from any disapproving expressions. 

Had it been one of her children, she would have chided them on their spatial awareness. Had it been any other witless child, she would have scowled and shooed them away. But even with the knowledge that this is a fake, that the girl this child resembles could never return, she cannot help herself when this girl looks so much like her. 

She crouches down to the child's eye level, placing a tender hand on the top of their head, suppressing the urge for her fingers to card through the locks, just to re-experience one final time. She has to be no more than six or seven years. 

“What is your name?” Arlecchino inquires with a softness she seldom had for anyone.

“Clervie.” 

Arlecchino’s breath hitches, and she wills her face to remain still, betraying none of the internal turmoil inside of her. What kind of trickery was this? It's not plausible for Clervie to be alive, not when she had buried her a decade ago, so how could this child stand before her? It'd ease her if she chalked it up to coincidence, but the resemblance is uncanny. Fate works in inexplicable ways, and if it is at play here, then perhaps that is the only explanation. Only Arlecchino contemplates what it is that fate has in plan for Clervie: does it intend to redeem Clerive, or punish her? Or perhaps, was it to punish the Harbinger herself? 

This Clerive seemed to have not a single drop of recollection of her. Forgotten was Peruere, like ash drifted to the wind. 

“How old are you?”

“Six.” 

Further eye contact with the child proved to be too unbearable. Arlecchino observes around, seeing no adult making their way to them.

“Where are your parents?” 

“They're at home.” 

Multiple parents? Arlecchino prays to her Majesty that this Clervie did not have her own version of a Crucabena. A miniscule, selfish part of Arlecchino wishes that her answer was that she had no caretaker. If that was the case, Arlecchino almost wouldn't hesitate taking Clervie to the House of the Hearth, if only to keep this Clervie, no matter if she doesn't know of what occured in her past lifetime, close to her. Anything to replace the emptiness that her Clervie left her with, to pretend that she still has this seldom source of her content. 

She knows that her Clervie would never forgive her, if she knew. And Peruere knows that Clervie longed nothing more but freedom, freedom from the House of the Hearth. Even if this is not her Clervie, she could never trample what Clervie achieved for her own selfish gain. Even if Crucabena was no longer there, Arlecchino could never subject Clervie to the cruelties of the Fatui, could never subject Clervie to herself.

(Arlecchino lays alone in the darkest of nights, when the stars do not shine on her. During such sleepless periods, she contemplates that if Clervie could see her, would Clervie see her in place of their late Mother? 

Peruere is afraid of the answer.)

Clervie is free. There is no need to cage her again when she is always meant to be with the wind. 

But when Arlecchino sees this fake, but undoubtedly, Clervie, she cannot help but want to relive the pleasures of reading books in the window sill with the moon and constellations, climbing trees to collect its bearings, or delighting in cakes. A foolish, naive part that Arlecchino thought she had long buried resurfaces, and it longs to reenact those placid memories. 

“You should not be outside without your parents, Clervie,” Peruere states. “Did you run away?” 

Does this Clervie wish for freedom, just like she did before? The same freedom that she can only sought by death? 

The child shakes her head. “I can't find them. I lost them somewhere.”

The Harbinger lets out a relieved, inaudible sigh. Maybe fate decided to be kind to Clervie this lifetime. 

“Would you like me to help you look for them?” Peruere finds herself asking without a single thought. 

Clervie beams, and perhaps it hurts more than any blade that could pierce her skin. Still, she commits it to memory. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you want me to carry you so you can see better?” Peruere inquired. Admittedly, this is more out of selfishness than for Clervie's benefit. However, she wants to replace the memory of the last time she had carried Clervie's body, broken and bloodied it was when she brought her dear friend to her burial place. If, for the briefest moment between the tides, she would like to fool herself with this memory, then she wishes that she is allowed just this. 

Clervie nods her head, and Peruere carefully picks up the child in her arms, before standing up from her crouching position. 

“Wow, you're so tall!” the six-year-old admires with a wide grin. 

The Harbinger faintly smiles but says nothing. 

“What's your name, ma'am?”

Peruere stops before she's taken 5 steps. It's instilled in her for her to state Arlecchino, the Knave, Fourth Fatui Harbinger, but on her tongue lies another name. “It's… Peruere.” 

“Per…uere?”

Peruere nearly shudders from her utterance, but nods. 

“Can I call you Perrie instead?” 

Arlecchino is the Fourth Fatui Harbinger, her power nearly comparable to that of a god. She has faced Crucabena's Kingmaking, she has endured the icy prisons of Snezynayan, and she has fought countless enemies. Arlecchino is all but weak, and yet she crumbles from a mere innocent question, from a child of all people.

“Yes, you can call me Perrie,” she answers far too quickly then she would like to. 

The Harbinger traverses around the Fontainian streets with the child in her arms as they look for adults similar to Clervie's description. They seem nothing like Crucabena, Peruere notes.

“Perrie, why did you stop when I asked you your name?” is the first question that Clervie asks on their search.

“You remind me of someone that I knew.” 

“Oh…” Silence, then, “You're really tall. Do you think I can be tall like you?” 

You never got the chance to, Peruere almost says, but dismisses it immediately. “I do not see why not. You have plenty more to grow.” 

Clervie hums, before her attention flits to Peruere's hands. “How come your hands are like that?”

“I painted them,” Peruere says and winces at the answer her mind conjured up. Nonetheless, it's more than convincing to the child.

“Wow… they look really cool! You painted them yourself?”

“I did.”

“Can I touch them?” 

“I suppose.” 

The conversation flows as awkwardly as one would expect with a six-year-old. Peruere is now privy to random tidbits of this Clervie's life: her favorite pastimes, preferred animal, and favored dishes, and favorite plants. The Harbinger finds it unsurprising that this Clervie still pleasures in reading novels, ravishes cake, and admires Lumodice Bells. Then she discusses why she had been out earlier today: her parents intended on getting her new clothes but lost her after she was distracted by the window displays of a bakery. 

Peruere allows her to talk, wordlessly indulging in the youthful spirit that this Clervie exhibits. It is nearly evening when Clervie exclaims sighting her parents, and Peruere hesitantly approaches the couple. 

It takes more strength than Peruere knew she possessed to let Clervie down. Clervie sprints to her parent's arms without a second thought. Clervie's parents thank Peruere for reuniting them, and promise Clervie that they would visit the bakery to buy the cake she eyeing so much.  

It is clear that Clervie has her own life to attend to. Fate chose to be merciful to her, and Peruere knows she cannot interfere with Clervie's life more, no matter how much she wishes it. Clervie is content, without Peruere.  

Arlecchino turns on her heel, intending to leave without an additional word, but Clervie calls out to her, waving frantically. 

“Bye-bye Perrie! Thank you so much!” 

Peruere glances back over her shoulder, a faint smile stretching on her lips. 

“Goodbye Clervie.” 

In your next life, let us know each other more familiarly. Until then, live the carefree life we both yearned for. 

[malamira]

IN AN EFFORT OF ENGAGEMENT, pt. i

synopsis: mustang sighed, his voice giving way to exhaustion in the echo of the room. Ed's eyes climbed to his former senior officer's face, watching the twitch of the General's, conveying thinly veiled annoyance. "you, fullmetal," mustang grumbled, "have terrible timing."

a/n: i just read parts 1 and 2 of the counteroffer series on ao3 and found inspiration in the concept.

— 💍 —

The door opened before he could even knock.

"Oh!" a woman exclaimed, and Ed had to jump back to make sure the box in his hand wasn't knocked over.

"Lieu—Captain!" he corrected himself, jumping back when the doors to the Colonel's—no, now-General's—office opened. Hawkeye took up the entirety of the entryway, her hand on the door.

"Edward!" she greeted in surprise. "I—I didn't expect you." She looks behind him. "Is Al not with you?"

"No," Ed said, blinking at her. "He's, um. He's in Xing, doing more research." He cleared his throat awkwardly. While he didn't expect to not see her here, he didn't expect to be greeted at the door so soon. He raised the box in his hands. "Um, I found some files back in Resembool when we were fixing up the house; I thought to return it..."

"Oh, thank you," Hawkeye said gently, looking at the box, "I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"It—N—No, of course not," he stammered, letting the Captain take the package from him.

She paused in the slightest before offering him another smile. "Your arm is looking healthy."

He feels his cheeks warm in the slightest. "Th-Thank you."

Hawkeye gives him a smile—not something he was unused to, but it felt a little strained. Maybe he was imagining it.

"I'll take these to the file room so we can sort it out there," she declared. Before he could say that maybe the General should take a look at the documents, too, she'd already turned a corner.

"Fullmetal."

He flinched out of habit and scowled at the General. "You don't have to call me that anymore."

"Force of habit." From the door, he could see Mustang's silhouette shrug as he stood. "Come in. And close the door, will you?"

Ed obeyed, the door clicking shut behind him. "Hey. Um, Hawkeye took my files—"

"I heard." Mustang's tone was flat. "She's gone?"

The man's office was large, and Ed had to squint as he looked into the direction of Mustang's desk. The General had a penchant for placing desks right in front of windows. Ed always thought that it was in a play of power: he could see who comes into his office but not offer them the same courtesy, almost giving Mustang the opportunity to calculate how he should greet the guest. Or the intruder.

Bradley was the same way, but Ed had a feeling mentioning it wouldn't do him any favors.

"Yeah," he said, walking closer. He'd gotten so used to Hawkeye being at Mustang's side that any space she occupied without him felt unnatural.

Mustang sighed, taking a seat. "Thanks. Now I won't be able to find her for at least six hours."

"What are you talking about?" Ed asked, brow raised. "She's not coming back?"

"Hawkeye has this amazingly irritating talent of disappearing when she doesn't want to be found." Mustang leaned forward and threaded his fingers over his mouth. "She knows me so well she knows exactly where I'll look. It's humbling."

"You mean it's humiliating."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

Ed started, "Why would she—" He paused when a glint from the middle of Mustang's desk caught his eye. Ed's brow furrowed and he stalked closer.

It's a ring. A simple silver ring, with a small yet very beautiful stone set against it.

It's pretty. In fact, he remembered seeing at something similar when he had been looking for a wedding ri—

He blanches when the dots seemingly connect in his head.

"That is," is all he's able to say, voice cracking a little. Shit, is this serious? is all he can think.

Mustang sighed, his voice giving way to exhaustion in the echo of the room. Ed's eyes climbed to his former senior officer's face, watching the twitch of the General's, conveying thinly veiled annoyance.

"You, Fullmetal," Mustang grumbled, "have terrible timing."

[ikeromantic]

Picking an Engagement Ring with Silvio

"I can't use my hand with this on," you say. Your ring finger, pinky, and middle finger brace the huge gemstone and surrounding halo. It's heavy enough that it takes 3 bands to keep it on your hand.

Silvio scoffs. "It's the most expensive ring in Benitoite."

You sigh, trying to remember that under the tyrant's guise is a kind, sweet man. Just, sometimes he's hidden quite deep. "I'm sure it is. But it's not to my taste. And look - it will catch on everything. My hair, my clothes, anything I get close to." You carefully lift your hand, showing how your hair tangles at the base of the stone and gets caught in the fittings.

The Prince struggles with himself. You can see it in the twist of his lips and the way he looks aside, unwilling to meet your gaze. "Fine. Pick what you want. But it better not be some cheap, plain crap."

Internally, you cheer. But you keep your expression neutral, graceful in victory. "Why don't we pick it together? Something a - a little more practical but still nice enough that you feel proud to see it on my hand too."

He studies your face as if uncertain what he might see there. Some part of him always expects that you will turn into the greedy, shallow sort of woman he despises. But whatever he glimpses in your gaze stains his cheeks a faint pink. "Whatever. Just shuddup and pick something."

As you bend to look back at the jewelry case, where hundreds of rings sit in velvet settings, some with stones and some without, you feel his warm hand on your low back. The touch a reminder of just how much he loves you, even when he can't manage to say it aloud.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

SNEAK PEEK! With Discretion Holiday Extra!

WC: 1.1K

No warnings for this sneak peek:)

Read the "With Discretion" series:)

Y/N discovers that her husband of 7 years, Caleb is cheating on her. One night out with her friends leads to an affair of her own but with Caleb’s boss, Mr. Styles, and they promise to never do it again…but some promises are just meant to be broken.

“That one’s nice, no?” He asked you as he nodded towards the case.

“Which one?”

“Second row, fifth one in.” He said and you searched and nodded.

“It looks vintage-y, that’s what I like about it. Don’t love that cut though.” You said.

“The princess cut?” He asked and you nodded.

“S’too boxy, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He hummed.

“The one two rows beneath it is gorgeous.” You mused and he smiled.

“The oval one in gold?” He asked and you nodded and hummed in confirmation, “Yeah, quite like that one actually. It’s very nice.” He mused as he looked it over.

“Would you like to inspect any of the rings more closely or try anything on?” Suddenly one of the salespersons appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“Oh n-”

“Yes, please.” Harry’s voice slightly overpowered yours before he turned and smiled at you briefly before turning back to the clerk and pointing at the one you had said you liked. The man was careful as he removed it from the back velvet setting it was in and reached for the magnifying glass that was peeking out of the front pocket of his suit jacket.

“This is a fine choice. The main stone is 3 carats, ethically sourced, and it has wonderful clarity.” He said as he positioned the magnifying glass over the ring’s main stone, “Have a look.” He insisted and you both peered over. It looked like you were staring into a hall of a million mirrors, it was absolutely beautiful. “You don’t see too many engagement rings set in gold now a days, but it is making a come back. It gives them a generational kind of feel, I think. Like a priceless family heirloom.” He smiled at the two of you.

“Yeah.” You hummed in agreement with a smile before glancing up to the man.

“Would you like to try it on?” He asked and you glanced to Harry who smiled at you and shrugged, indicating that it was up to you. It was just so pretty that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try it on. Cal insisted that you keep your rings from your engagement and marriage, but you didn’t wear them anymore, they were in a safe in your apartment. But you had been wearing two rings for seven years and you did feel naked without them for the first few months after you agreed to divorce, but now it was fine. But a part of you missed having them on so you agreed.

“Sure.” You accepted happily. Cal hadn’t consulted with you on which ring he’d get you when he proposed. You still liked it, it just wasn’t something you would’ve chosen for yourself, unlike this ring, this ring was right in your wheelhouse.

“It helps a lot to see the different cuts on yourself. That way you know which ones flatter you most when the time comes to choose “the one”, you know?” He said as he extended his hand towards yours and you handed over your right hand without much thought. “There’s only one “the one” ring. One ring to rule them all…” you said lowly as you glanced back at Harry knowingly as you quoted “Lord of the Rings” with a grin and Harry sputtered on a laugh and the salesman did as well.

“You’re a complete dork.” Harry murmured before kissing the side of your head, “S’one of the reasons I love you, though.”

“Pardon, but wrong hand, miss.” the salesman said and your eyebrows arched up before you and Harry chuckled.

“Right! Don’t know why I’m so nervous.” You chuckled in a bit of embarrassment as you handed over your left hand and Harry’s warm hand rubbed over your lower back a few times reassuringly.

“It can be nerve-wracking, it’s a big step getting engaged.” The man said and you hummed. Obviously, you and Harry were not getting engaged any time soon. You hadn’t even properly talked about marriage like that yet, this was just for fun…right? Suddenly the man gasped and you turned to him, “Would you look at that?” he mused in wonder, his bright eyes met with yours, “It’s like it was made for you. It even fits perfectly.” He pointed out with glee, “And the cut is very flattering on your hand. It looks very beautiful on you. You have good instincts for this.” He smiled up at you and you just chuckled bashfully. “What do you think, sir?” He asked Harry and you glanced back to him as well.

“I agree, I love it on you.” He smiled solely at you and you smiled back at him as your stomach did another unsettling flip that you couldn’t really focus on when the man spoke up again.

“Are you interested in seeing any other options similar to this one? We can find similar ones with different budgetary limits as well if you have a price point in mind? Or have you got any ideas for other styles or cuts you’d like to see? Maybe even see what wedding bands can match with the engagement ring?”

“Sorry, we’re actually just here to buy some cufflinks for my girlfriend’s father.” Harry explained, “We got a bit sidetracked over here. The rings are just so shiny and beautiful, it’s impossible not to come have a look at them more closely.” He said with a smile and the man hummed with a smile.

“Oh, I understand, could stand around here all day marveling. I’m sorry to have assumed. You are a lovely couple though. Maybe sometime in the future.” He said with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Harry smiled, “Thank you though.”

“Let me give this back to you.” You said as you extended your hand out again and he chuckled.

“Of course, miss.” He said and carefully slipped the ring off of your finger, “Well in the future if you are taking things to the next level feel free to make an appointment with me, my name’s Dan. I’m the senior consultant specializing in engagement rings and wedding bands.” He explained as he set the ring back in it’s spot under the glass. “We do very thorough consultations for engagement rings if you so choose to buy with us.” He said as he extended his card to you, again he seemingly pulled it out of thin air. 

“Thank you.” Harry hummed with a smile as he took it and slipped it into his pant pocket.

“My pleasure. I hope you find everything to your satisfaction.” Dan smiled before hurrying off to help another customer a few cases down.

---TAG LIST---

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[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬 ~ 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧ { 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 }

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟔𝟓𝟎

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐨 “𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞?

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢’𝐦 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐢’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝐚𝐦

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

You stood there, completely dumbfounded at the man standing in front of you. Had he grown taller since you last saw him? Was it possible that he’d gotten even more handsome? You shook the thoughts from your head, trying to find the right words to say.

“Sirius. What’re you doing here?” You questioned, your gaze falling to the small gift box in his hand.

“Can I come in?” He didn’t wait for your response, stepping right past you and into your home.

“Oh, sure, make yourself at home.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes and shutting the front door.

“We need to talk.”

“Do we really? Cause I was having a good day, and I didn’t need this to ruin it.” You said, crossing your arms across your chest.

“We should sit.” He spoke, ignoring your comment. He pulled out a chair from your kitchen table, sitting down.

You sighed, reluctantly going over and sitting across from him. “What’s this about?”

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you didn’t expect this.” He set the box down on the table, settling into his seat.

“What, expect you to barge into my home unannounced?”

“Your birthday is only a few days away.” He said, slightly quieter than his previous words.

“Yeah, and? Are you upset that you weren’t invited?”

“You’re turning twenty-five.”

“I know that. What’s so important about that?”.

He picked the box up, opening it to reveal an engagement ring. You couldn’t deny that it was beautiful; the hexagonal onyx stone in the middle paired perfectly with the silver band. You could tell that he had picked it himself, as it was absolutely his style.

“We have to get married.” He responded, offering you the box.

“Excuse me?”

“We made a promise, Y/n. We said that if we both weren’t in relationships by this time, we’d marry each other.”

“That was a stupid thing we agreed on as teenagers! I don’t even know you anymore.” You said, pushing the ring box away.

“We made an unbreakable vow. Don’t you remember?” He ignored the hurt that he felt, realising that you had forgotten all about it. He hadn’t gone a single day without thinking about it, or you.

The awareness hit you. You had always tried your best to forget your memories with Sirius, and it had been successful in many ways. You hadn’t remembered your vow until just now, and a chill ran down your spine as you recalled the events from that night years ago.

He spoke again, this time softer than before. “Look, I understand that this isn’t what you want, but we don’t have a choice. It has to be done. And trust me, I don’t want this either.”

You glanced between the ring box and him, nodding slowly. “I suppose marrying you is better than death.”

He couldn’t help but smile slightly, taking the ring out of the box. He took your hand, gently slipping it onto your ring finger. “I know this is a bit tough, but we can make it work.”

“I hope so.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The next day, Remus came over for your weekly movie night and you immediately bombarded him with information about last night’s events.

“…I’m sorry, Y/n. I know this must be so weird for you.”

You nodded, sighing and rubbing your temples. “I don’t want to marry him, Remus.”

“You loved each other once, who says you can’t do it again?” He spoke, looking at you uncertainly. “You know, he asks about you everyday. He never stopped loving you, even after everything that happened. I know that it must pain him to have to reunite with you on such tense terms, considering the fact that he’s been trying to find the courage to speak with you for years.”

“He doesn’t love me, Remus. He just doesn’t want to die.”’

“We’ll see about that.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

│𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 │ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 │𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 │ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 │𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 │𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱 │(𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞)

[jahayla-parker]

Love of a Lifetime Proposal SMAU : Freddy Carter x Reader

Moodboard is from Proposal fic (accessible here)

Part of Love of a Lifetime Mini-Series

For full warnings and description, see mini-series masterlist

560 WC

Fic leading up to the SMAU photos/post plus SMAU posts announcing the proposal below the cut

“Do you like it?” Freddy wondered as he positioned his camera at the desired angle. “The ring, I mean,” he elaborated, glancing up at y/n. “I had help from my mum and y/bff/n when it came to choosing it but-,”.

“It’s beautiful, honey,” y/n hummed, cutting Freddy off warmly. “For the record, I would’ve been fine with a ring made of the paper from a straw wrapper, Freddy,” she pointed out, smiling as she neared her fiancé. “As long as it came from you. But, this is stunning,” y/n assured him, gazing lovingly down at her left hand. “You did a miraculous job”. She held her hand up to look at the ring on her finger as the sunlight reflected off the polished stone at its center.

Freddy’s checks flushed crimson as he grinned. He moved closer and held y/n’s fingertips in his hand. They stood there silently admiring the radiant engagement ring on y/n’s finger and all it stood for.

——

“So, y/bff/n knows?” Y/n asked as she watched Freddy adjust his camera settings. They’d completed a few photos already but both wanted to obtain a couple more. She was just glad she could put her jacket back on now for the remaining ones; much to Freddy’s relief as well as it had been y/n’s idea to get some shots of her in her dress without the coat obstructing the image.

Freddy blushed and nodded. “Uhh.., yeah, kinda,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, darling, I wanted to make sure the ring-” Freddy began to apologize.

“Freddy,” y/n scoffed lightheartedly. “Handsome, you do not need to apologize!” She shook her head as she smiled over at him.

“If it helps,” Freddy replied, stationing his camera. “I mean, y/bff/n only knew I was going to ask you.” He stood up from his slightly crouched position and walked back to his fiancée. “She didn’t know when I was asking, or what your answer would be, or-”.

Y/n smirked and hummed quietly. “In other words, she knew everything,” she corrected playfully. When she noticed Freddy went to argue, she giggled and shifted her smirk into a grin. “Freddy, dear, there’s no way y/bff/n would have had any doubt as to what my answer would be,” y/n said, explaining her earlier statement. “She would be stupid to think I’d ever even hesitate, much less say anything other than yes, to a marriage proposal from you.”

Freddy grinned and buried his flushed face in the crook of y/n’s neck. He wordlessly nuzzled his face closer, delicately rubbing his forehead and nose against her skin.

Y/n twisted her head until she was at the necessary angle to kiss Freddy’s ear. She frowned slightly as her lips left his skin; his ear was freezing cold. “Aww,” y/n sighed, “Freddy you’re cold!” She whined as she leaned back until he reluctantly lifted his head from her shoulder. Y/n quickly covered Freddy’s chilly red-tipped ears with her hands.

Freddy laughed loudly and placed his hands over y/n’s. His right ear was covered by her left hand. And now, his right hand was resting on top of y/n’s left hand. The base of Freddy’s right ring finger brushed against her ring, prompting him to curl his right ring finger back until the fingertip lovingly grazed the diamond with glee as they stared into each others eyes.

Social Media Proposal Announcement Posts:

Liked by freddycarter1, amitasuman_, yourbffname, and 798, 261 others

yourusername: Timeless in Vienna

❤️ @/freddycarter1

view all 309, 618 comments

freddycarter1: ♾️����

benbarnes: getting engaged on Valentine’s Day in Vienna?! You two are so sickeningly romantic. Xxx

amitasuman_: ahhhh congrats!! ❤️

tommyae: best addition to the family 🤗

yourusername: honored to join such a wonderful family ❤️🥹

yourbffname: sCrEaMiNg!! So happy for you both 😭💞

Liked by yourusername, tommyae, daniellegalligan_, and 973, 168 others

freddycarter1: My forever Valentine ❤️💍

view all 579, 139 comments

daniellegalligan_: my heart is bursting for you guys 😍

yourusername: you’re forever mine now 🥹❤️

freddycarter1: yours, always, darling 😘

tommyae: she’s an ace of a woman mate, very happy for you little bro ❤️

kittheyounger: jealous of you both 💙 I mean happy, I’m HAPPY for you both xx

Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @alex-kazbrekkersimp @nikfigueiredo @historynerd77 @opheliaofficial07 @el-de-phi

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[capybaraonabicycle]

So obviously I love the Doctor's and Amy's relationship. But I do not enjoy that scene at the end of Flesh and Stone. And I believe the Doctor should have met Mels as early as during The Eleventh Hour So I -

They are sitting on Amy’s bed, looking at her wedding dress hanging on the inside of her closet.

“Well” the Doctor says for loss of better words.

“Yeah” Amy answers.

“Blimey” he says. ‘I’ve been running, too’ Amy has said when they were in the TARDIS just now. Running from her wedding.

“I know” Amy agrees, swaying a bit back and forth. “This is the same night we left, yeah?”

He checks his wrist, not even wearing a watch that would tell the correct time. But he knows, of course. He’s a timelord after all. “We’ve been gone five minutes.”

Amy reaches for the ring box in her nightstand, flipping it open. “I’m getting married in the morning.”

He snatches it from her hands, tapping the small diamond. “Why did you leave it here?”

“Why did I leave my engagement ring off when I run away on the night before my wedding?” she asks, unsure whether he really doesn’t understand or is just playing with her.

“Yeah.” He really doesn’t understand.

“Hm” she hums, snatching the ring back. “You really are an alien, aren’t you?”

He nods absentmindedly. “Who’s the lucky one, then?”

“You met each other” she tells him and his face lights up.

“Ah, the good-looking one?” he asks. “Or the other one?”

He mimics a long nose and Amy’s face darkens. “The other one.”

“Well, he was good, too” he placates her, and she chuckles.

“Thanks” she says, before frowning. “Who’s ‘the good-looking one’?”

“Your friend” he tries to describe who he’s thinking of. “The one with the laptop and the gun.”

“Mels?!” Amy asks scandalised. “You thought I was marrying Mels? Ew, no. I mean, I love her, I do. But…she’s like my sister. You know? Like the little sibling you always have to look out for because they get themselves into trouble? I would not marry my sister.”

“Right” he agrees, unable to follow.

Amy looks thoughtful now.

“Mels is part of the reason I wanted to return, though” she admits.

“Which reason?” he asks.

“I nearly died” she reminds him. “I was alone, in the dark and I nearly died. And it made me think.”

“Well, yes naturally, I think sometimes” he chimes in. “Well, lots of times.”

“About what I want” she continues, unimpressed. “And about what I am risking. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah” he nods, then shakes his head. “-No. Sorry.”

Amy sighs. “Doctor, if I had died back there, if an angel had gotten me, I would have just disappeared. On the night before my wedding, without saying goodbye. Rory and Mels, I would have just left them behind, without warning or explanation. I didn’t die, so they will never have to know now, but the fact that I risked it. That I risked just leaving them like that. That was wrong.”

She reaches for his hand.

“That’s why I wanted to come back now” she explains. “I don’t want to stop traveling with you. But I have to at least let them know what I am doing and what could happen. I owe them that much.”

He holds her hand tightly, smiling. “They could always come along, you know?”

“What? So, you can spend more time with the ‘good-looking one’ or what?” she teases and realises with a start: “Oh my god: You like Mels!”

She almost pounces on him in excitement and hurriedly he scrambles away from her and off the bed. “No - NO! Amy!”

“You Like Mels” she exclaims in triumph. “Do you want me to set you two up?”

“Ye-No!” he shouts, waving his arms to get her off him when she tries to grab his shoulders.

“But it would be perfect, Doctor” she insists, backing him against the TARDIS with her damned gleeful smirk. “I am positive Mels likes you, too. She’s been talking about nothing else ever since you left.”

“Amy, listen to me!” he pleads, pressing against the TARDIS door in search for support. “I am nine hundred and seven years old. Do you understand what that means?”

He walks past her to get out of the corner she has backed him into, but she is right on his heels.

“It has been a while?” she proposes. With all the social clues he is constantly missing it would not be a surprise.

“Ye-No. No. No” he insists wringing his hands. “I am nine hundred and seven years and look at me: I don’t get older, I just change. You lot get older, I don’t. So, me and Mels can’t ever work.”

“Aw” Amy coos. Somehow, she has chased him towards the TARDIS door again and now she is smiling with something like pitiful amuse. “You are sweet, Doctor. But don’t worry about that. I don’t think Mels is expecting something quite so long-term, really.”

“But she’s human!” he tries again, then decides on the spot to change his strategy. “Why are we even talking about this? You’re the one who’s getting married in the morning!”

Suddenly he’s realising something.

“In the morning” he repeats more slowly, and she can basically see the gears turn behind his forehead.

“Doctor?” she asks, immediately having forgotten about Mels and her plans to set them up.

“It’s you” he understands. “It’s all about you. E-everything. It’s about you. Amy Pond. Mad, impossible Amy Pond. I don’t know why, I have no idea but quite possibly, the single most important thing in the history of the universe is that I get you sorted out right now.”

He grabs her hand and Amy smiles, confused but pleased.

“Alright then” she agrees, letting him drag her to the TARDIS. “Let’s go.”

There. Fixed it.

[labgrown-diamond-ring]

The Beauty of a Round Cut Lab Grown Diamond Engagement Ring in 14k Rose Gold

Looking for the perfect engagement ring that blends modern ethics with timeless elegance? The Round Cut Lab Grown Diamond Engagement Ring in 14k Rose Gold with a Minimalist Halo Setting might just be the one. Here’s why this beautiful combination has captured the hearts of so many brides-to-be:

🌿 Sustainable Sparkle

Lab-grown diamonds have become a game-changer in the world of fine jewelry. These diamonds are grown in controlled environments that replicate the natural diamond formation process but without the environmental harm of traditional mining. You get the same brilliance and quality as a mined diamond, but with the peace of mind that comes with choosing a sustainable and conflict-free option.

A round cut diamond, known for its unmatched brilliance, is the perfect stone for those who want their engagement ring to radiate light and love. Combine that with a lab-grown diamond, and you’ve got a beautiful piece that’s also kind to the planet.

💕 Why Rose Gold?

Rose gold has a romantic appeal that’s hard to resist. The warm blush tones of 14k rose gold create a soft, dreamy contrast with the dazzling diamond. It’s a unique twist on traditional yellow or white gold that adds a touch of modern sophistication. Plus, rose gold complements all skin tones, making it a versatile and flattering choice for everyday wear.

💫 The Minimalist Halo: Subtle Yet Stunning

If you love the idea of adding a little extra sparkle to your ring, the minimalist halo design is a perfect choice. The halo of smaller diamonds surrounding the center stone enhances the overall shine without overwhelming the ring. It’s elegant, chic, and adds just the right amount of shimmer, making the center diamond the star of the show.

The minimalist design also appeals to those who prefer a sleek, understated look. It’s not too flashy but still radiates enough glamour to make a statement.

💍 Timeless and Meaningful

An engagement ring is more than just a piece of jewelry. It’s a symbol of love, commitment, and a promise of forever. Choosing a ring that reflects both your personal style and values makes the piece even more meaningful. A round cut lab-grown diamond in rose gold with a halo design is perfect for the modern bride who values sustainability, timeless beauty, and subtle elegance.

[purestarjewelry]

The Perfect Blend of Elegance and Simplicity: 10k White Gold Cushion Cut Lab Grown Diamond Halo Engagement Ring & Minimalist Accent Wedding Ring for Women

When it comes to finding the perfect engagement and wedding rings, many brides today are drawn to designs that balance classic elegance with modern simplicity. Enter the 10k White Gold Cushion Cut Lab Grown Diamond Halo Engagement Ring paired with a Minimalist Accent Wedding Ring—a combination that exudes both timeless beauty and contemporary charm.

Why Lab Grown Diamonds?

Lab grown diamonds are quickly becoming a favorite among eco-conscious brides. These diamonds are created in controlled environments, offering the same sparkle, brilliance, and durability as natural diamonds—but without the ethical concerns associated with mining. Choosing a lab grown diamond means you’re getting a sustainable, conflict-free gem that shines just as bright as any natural stone.

Cushion Cut: A Classic with a Modern Twist

The Cushion Cut diamond is known for its rounded corners and larger facets that create a soft, elegant glow. It’s a cut that combines the best of both worlds: vintage charm with a modern edge. The cushion cut has a rich history, but its versatility and ability to enhance a diamond's brilliance make it a favorite for today’s engagement rings.

Halo Setting: More Sparkle, More Impact

What sets this ring apart is the Halo setting, where a circle of smaller diamonds surrounds the center cushion cut diamond, adding even more sparkle. This not only enhances the overall appearance of the center stone, making it look larger, but it also gives the ring a stunning, multi-dimensional effect. The halo is perfect for brides who want a bit of glamour without being overly bold.

10k White Gold: Sleek and Durable

The 10k White Gold band offers a polished and sleek look that beautifully complements the sparkle of the diamond. White gold has a cool, refined appearance that pairs well with any style, making it a great option for brides who prefer a minimalist aesthetic. Plus, the durability of 10k gold ensures that your ring will withstand the test of time—just like your love.

The Minimalist Accent Wedding Ring: Effortlessly Chic

To complete the set, the Minimalist Accent Wedding Ring offers a clean, simple design that pairs effortlessly with the halo engagement ring. This band is perfect for brides who want something understated yet elegant. Its simplicity enhances the boldness of the engagement ring, creating a harmonious balance between the two pieces.

Why This Set is Perfect for You

This ring combination is perfect for the modern bride who values both tradition and style. The 10k White Gold Cushion Cut Lab Grown Diamond Halo Engagement Ring gives you that classic, sparkling engagement ring look, while the Minimalist Accent Wedding Ring keeps things simple and sophisticated.

If you’re a bride who loves sustainable choices, timeless elegance, and understated luxury, this duo is the perfect way to celebrate your love.